Right Hook to Reality
870 Words
Zayden already hated this school.
He leaned on the front desk, repeating his name for the third damn time.
"Zayden Cole. Zay-den. Cole."
The receptionist squinted at the screen like it was written in Greek.
He opened his mouth again—ready to snap—when a voice behind him cut in, louder, more precise.
"He said his name is Zayden Cole. He’s the new transfer Principal Grim told you about."
Zayden mumbled a dry, “Thanks,” without turning around. He just saw a flash of red braid disappear out the door.
Schedule in hand, he ducked into the nearest bathroom.
He wasn’t going to class. Not yet. Not ready to deal with the staring, the whispering. Not again.
He stared at himself in the cracked mirror. Just one more year. Then he could disappear.
Once he stepped out of the bathroom, the hallway would feel like a spotlight.
Eventually, as he gathered himself he pushed open the door and immediately bumped into a short red head, girl helping her sick-looking friend walk toward the nurse’s office. She stuttered an apology and moved on.
He didn’t reply. Just watched them disappear around the corner.
"Second time" he muttered.
Zayden stood at his locker, hands still wet from the bathroom sink, twisting the combination for the fourth damn time.
Click. Nothing.
Click. Nothing.
He sighed through his nose, staring at the chipped metal like it had personally offended him.
He’d already had enough of this day, this school, this entire city.
He finally yanked it open just as someone rushed past him in a blur. It was the school nurse her walkie crackling with static on her hip something like screaming on the other end.
Probably some kid passed out in gym.
He fumbled the combo two more times, cursing under his breath. Before the locker finally clicked open with a metallic groan.
He stuffed his hoodie and schedule inside, exhaling slow. This place sucked. Same cheap fluorescent lights, same chipped walls, same tight feeling in his chest like the walls were shrinking.
Then he heard the scream.
It wasn’t the regular kind. Not a hallway fight or drama girl shriek. It was raw. Panicked.
He turned in time to see her.
The redhead from earlier—the one from the front desk and the bathroom. She tore around the corner like her life depended on it. Her glasses were crooked, her cheeks streaked with tears and blood. Eyes locked behind her, legs pumping fast as hell. She looked at him for just a second before she tripped and slammed into the ground, her bag flying.
Zayden took a step forward to help her.
Then he saw what was behind her. A boy in a school hoodie sprinted after her.
Fast.
Unnatural fast.
His mouth—his mouth wasn’t right. It hung open too wide, smeared with red. His limbs jerked wrong, and his skin was a greyish color marked with blue veins.
Zayden raised his hands. “Yo! Back off, man!” he didn’t stop. He just kept coming arms flailing behind him.
He lunged.
Zayden grabbed his arm mid-charge, shoving him off balance. “Back up, dude. What the f**k is your problem?!”
Nothing. No pause. No blink. Just that noise—this awful wet snarl. His eyes were rolled back white.
And he lunged again.
Zayden’s instincts screamed move.
He dodged sideways, slamming his shoulder into the kid and sending him stumbling into the lockers. The impact left a dent.
“What the f**k—are you high?!”
No answer. The kid twitched, straightened, and lunged again.
This time, Zayden didn’t hold back. He grabbed the guy’s collar and shoved, slamming him into the metal again.
Still no reaction. The boy hissed, snapped his teeth, and scratched at the air between them.
He didn't have time to think, he shoved the kid and when he came at him again. Zayden swung wide and punched him across the jaw.
The kid didn’t even flinch.
He kept coming.
Zayden's back hit the lockers. He ducked just in time as teeth snapped where his face had been a second ago.
He elbowed the kid in the gut, twisted, and threw him over his shoulder with a full-body shove. The boy crashed to the floor but scrambled like an animal, fingers clawing the tile.
Zayden grabbed a fallen broom by the wall. It wasn’t much—but it was something. He raised it like a bat, jaw clenched.
When the kid sprang again, Zayden swung—hard. The snap of wood cracked through the hallway as the broomstick splintered across the boys face. It dropped, dazed, twitching.
He didn't give what ever the f**k that was any time to recover. He sprinted towards the girl, wiping sweat from his face. "You okay?" he asked her.
She nodded slowly, like she didn’t trust herself to speak.
"Cool," he muttered. "Let’s find something stronger than a damn broom."
He grabbed her by the arm, helping her to her feet and ran.
Whatever that thing was—it wasn’t a classmate anymore.
Zayden gripped the broken broom tighter in his hand.
And for the first time that day, he felt wide awake.
- Writer
