Chapter 7: The Boy in the Hallway
1311 Words
Maria barely slept.
The journal remained open beside her bed.
The black feather rested on top of its pages.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cathedral.
The ash.
The shadow.
And the single word that refused to leave her thoughts.
Scars.
By morning, she had more questions than answers.
Unfortunately, school still started at seven-thirty.
The rain had stopped by the time Maria arrived at school.
Gray clouds lingered overhead, casting long shadows across the campus.
Students moved through the hallways as usual.
Laughing.
Talking.
Living ordinary lives.
None of them knew reality was breaking apart around them.
None of them remembered Ethan Cruz.
And none of them had any idea what was hidden beneath Room 214.
Maria wasn't sure whether that was comforting or terrifying.
Jake and Tyler were already waiting outside her classroom.
Neither looked particularly rested.
Jake carried his sketchbook.
Tyler carried enough snacks to survive a natural disaster.
"Morning," Maria said.
Tyler held up a bag of chips.
"Preparation."
"For what?"
"The end of reality."
Maria couldn't help smiling.
"Fair enough."
Jake looked considerably less amused.
His eyes kept drifting toward the school hallways.
As though he expected something to emerge from them.
Maria understood the feeling.
The three gathered inside Room 214.
The journal lay open on Maria's desk.
The rusted key sat beside it.
For nearly an hour they studied Miss Reyes's notes.
Most of the pages were difficult to understand.
The journal referenced symbols, locations, disappearances, and something called The Forgotten Paths.
One particular entry caught Maria's attention.
Written in shaky handwriting were the words:
The hallway appears when the Fracture widens.
Beneath that:
Do not follow the voices.
Tyler frowned.
"That doesn't sound suspicious at all."
Jake pointed lower on the page.
"There."
A rough map had been sketched near the bottom.
The drawing showed part of the school.
One corridor had been circled repeatedly.
Maria stared.
The corridor shouldn't have existed.
According to the school's floor plan, there was only a storage room in that section of the building.
Yet Miss Reyes had clearly marked something beyond it.
Something hidden.
A location she desperately wanted someone to find.
Maria slowly looked up.
"I think we need to go exploring."
Tyler sighed.
"I knew you were going to say that."
The hallway behind the old storage rooms was empty.
At least at first.
Dust coated the floor.
The lights flickered occasionally overhead.
Nobody used this section of the school anymore.
According to the administration, there was nothing beyond the storage area.
Just an exterior wall.
Yet as the three moved deeper into the corridor, Maria noticed something strange.
The hallway felt longer than it should have.
Much longer.
She glanced behind them.
The entrance seemed farther away.
Jake noticed it too.
"You see that, right?"
Maria nodded.
Tyler looked over his shoulder.
"Nope."
"What?"
"Nope as in I officially hate this hallway."
The corridor continued stretching ahead.
The air grew colder.
The silence deepened.
Eventually they reached the end.
Or rather, what should have been the end.
A wall stood before them.
Plain.
White.
Ordinary.
Jake stepped closer.
Then stopped.
"Wait."
His voice had become a whisper.
Maria followed his gaze.
A door had appeared.
It hadn't been there moments earlier.
She was certain of it.
The paint matched the wall perfectly.
Almost as though the door had been hidden.
Or forgotten.
Tyler looked ready to leave.
Again.
"Please tell me we're not opening that."
Maria reached for the handle.
"Maria."
She opened the door.
Beyond it stretched another hallway.
A hallway that absolutely did not exist.
The ceiling arched higher.
The walls appeared older.
The lights overhead glowed with a pale silver hue.
Dust drifted through the air.
The corridor seemed endless.
And at the very end—
Someone stood waiting.
Jake gasped.
Tyler froze.
Maria felt her heart stop.
A teenage boy stood beneath the silver lights.
Soccer jersey.
Dark hair.
Familiar face.
Ethan Cruz.
For a moment nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Ethan slowly lifted his head.
His eyes met Maria's.
And he smiled.
"You're late."
The words shattered the silence.
Maria took an involuntary step forward.
"Ethan?"
The boy nodded.
"As much as I can be."
Jake stared.
"You remember us?"
Ethan laughed softly.
"I remember everything."
A chill swept through the corridor.
Everything.
Not just his classmates.
Not just Room 214.
Everything.
Maria carefully approached.
"Ethan... where have you been?"
The smile faded from his face.
His eyes suddenly looked much older than they should have.
"Between."
The answer barely rose above a whisper.
"Between what?"
"Everything."
Silence followed.
The corridor seemed colder now.
The silver lights flickered overhead.
Maria struggled to understand.
Ethan looked around nervously.
As though he expected someone to overhear.
"They erased me."
The words sent a shiver through all three of them.
"They erased my records."
"My friends."
"My family."
"My life."
Jake swallowed hard.
"But we remember."
Ethan looked at him.
"That's why you're dangerous."
Nobody spoke.
Finally Maria asked the question that had haunted her for days.
"What are the Fractures?"
Ethan's expression darkened.
"They're tears."
"Tears in reality."
"Places where forgotten things leak through."
Maria's pulse quickened.
"The Forgotten?"
Ethan nodded.
"They aren't gone."
"They never were."
The corridor lights flickered again.
A strange unease settled over the group.
Maria sensed Ethan was running out of time.
"What happened to Miss Reyes?"
For a moment sadness crossed Ethan's face.
"She tried to stop it."
"Stop what?"
"The Seventh Fracture."
The name alone seemed to darken the hallway.
Ethan lowered his voice.
"There were six before."
"Every time reality healed."
"Every time people forgot."
"But this one..."
His eyes lifted toward Maria.
"This one is different."
Maria stepped closer.
"Why?"
Ethan's expression became grim.
Because the Seventh Fracture doesn't erase people.
It brings them back."
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Maria felt her stomach drop.
The Forgotten.
Returning.
Miss Reyes's warning suddenly made terrifying sense.
"What happens if it opens completely?"
Ethan looked genuinely afraid.
For the first time since meeting him, he looked like an ordinary teenager.
"I don't know."
The confession chilled her.
"If you don't know—"
"Because nobody survived long enough to find out."
Silence swallowed the corridor.
Then Ethan said something even worse.
"There are others."
Maria blinked.
"Others?"
"Students."
"Teachers."
"People who were erased."
"They exist between realities now."
Jake's voice trembled.
"How many?"
Ethan's expression hardened.
"Hundreds."
The number hit them like a physical blow.
Hundreds.
Hundreds of forgotten lives.
Hundreds of people nobody remembered.
Maria struggled to process it.
Then Ethan suddenly looked over her shoulder.
His eyes widened.
Fear flashed across his face.
"No."
The word came out sharply.
"What?" Maria asked.
Ethan took a step backward.
"They found you."
"Who?"
The corridor lights began flickering violently.
The silver glow dimmed.
Shadows stretched across the walls.
"Ethan?"
He looked directly at her.
His expression desperate.
Terrified.
Then he spoke the words Maria would never forget.
"The Seventh Fracture already started."
The hallway shook.
A deep rumble echoed through the walls.
Maria rushed forward.
"What does that mean?"
"Ethan!"
But it was already too late.
His body began fading.
Like smoke caught in the wind.
"No!" Jake shouted.
Ethan reached toward them.
Trying to hold on.
Trying to remain.
For one brief moment, his eyes met Maria's.
Then he vanished.
Gone.
The corridor became silent.
The silver lights steadied.
The hallway stood empty.
Maria stared at the place where Ethan had stood.
Her heart hammered.
Questions filled her mind.
A thousand questions.
Then Jake gasped.
Maria turned.
At the far end of the corridor—
Just for a second—
Another figure appeared.
A student.
Pale.
Translucent.
Half-hidden by shadows.
Not Ethan.
Someone else.
Someone forgotten.
The student's terrified eyes locked onto Maria's.
As though silently begging for help.
Then the figure disappeared.
And the hallway was empty once more.
- Writer
