The Alien Within

The athletes were stretching and gearing up for when the whistle would be blown as the commentator kept calling name after name of the participants from each school.

The stadium buzzed like a live wire, humming with the energy of the competition about to begin.

Riverdale Central Stadium was packed to capacity, a sea of spectators in school colors—reds, greens, blues, and yellows—filling the seats, balconies, and grassy areas.

The banners for Tessa and Bridget were especially visible, plastered across walls, flags, and even a few fans' faces. The Peri Inter-Region Track and Field Competition wasn't just another event, it was a festival of talent, ego, and, more importantly, pride.

On the field, the participants from all eighteen schools had gathered, each group clustered around their star athletes. It was a who's who of track talent. You could feel the tension crackling in the air like static electricity.

From Northwind High, there was Kendra "Blaze" Tombstone, known for setting the regional record in the 200-meter sprint last year.

She strutted around with her head held high, headphones on, blocking out the world, her expression saying she was already imagining herself holding the winner's trophy.

Behind her, from Ivy-bridge Academy, stood Ryan "Silver Streak" Daniels, whose silver-colored running shoes had become as famous as his speed.

Rumor had it that his shoes were custom-made to match his pace, and today he looked ready to prove he was more than just hype.

Not far from them, Southernhill College had their secret weapon—Eve "Lightning" Parker, a petite girl with an unassuming look but a vicious sprint.

Despite her small stature, she had floored many competitors before, her nickname earned not just for her speed but for her explosive starts.

Amidst the various athletes, a small group of boys from a nearby school made a snide remark as they passed Riverdale's section.

"Hey, isn't that the team that thinks they have a beast?" one of them sneered, doing air quotes.

"Oh yeah, I heard they've got some mythical creature on their team," another boy joked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Tessa the Beast! I wonder if she'll eat us if we lose!" the third added mockingly, sparking a round of laughter among his crew.

But Riverdale students weren't having any of it. One of Tessa's die-hard supporters, a lanky guy named Karl, shot back with his own retort.

"At least our beast doesn't look like she just got off her shift at a petting zoo," Karl quipped, pointing at their runner, whose messy appearance suggested a rushed warm-up.

The Riverdale section roared with laughter, and even a few neighboring schools couldn't help but chuckle.

The online banter was even more heated. On every social media platform, the back-and-forth between fans reached fever pitch. Fans of Bridget and Tessa were the loudest, dominating every thread with arguments, memes, and GIFs.

@BridgetMillsFanClub: Good luck, Riverdale. You'll need it when Bridget leaves you in the dust. #TrackQueen

@TessaPower: #TrackQueen? Please. Tessa's not just a queen—she's the whole empire. Bridget better have an oxygen mask ready when she starts choking on our dust. #BeastMode

At the heart of the competition, amidst all the noise, was Tessa. She stood calmly, tuning out the buzz around her. Her eyes scanned the track, taking in every detail, from the lanes to the starting blocks. The tension in her body was minimal; after all, this was something she was born for.

The grass beneath her spikes felt soft, pliable, and she could almost sense the wind whispering to her, telling her it was her time.

But Bridget Mills wasn't about to be overshadowed. She stood a few meters away, her sharp eyes narrowing as she observed Tessa.

There was no love lost between the two, not that Bridget cared. In her world, there was no such thing as rivals—only competitors to be beaten.

"Better hope you've got more than hype, Riverdale," Bridget called out as she passed by Tessa, her voice low and cutting. "Because once that gun goes off, it's game over."

Tessa barely glanced in her direction, instead taking in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. The aroma of the day was almost intoxicating. She felt her pulse steady, her thoughts centering.

She wasn't worried about Bridget—if anything, Bridget was wasting energy trying to intimidate her.

Nearby, Mr. Rudbick sat in the VIP section, arms crossed, watching the event with an almost bored expression. James sat beside him, fidgeting in his seat, clearly annoyed by the attention Tessa and Adrian were receiving.

"That girl," James muttered bitterly, eyes glued to Tessa. "She thinks she's so untouchable. I don't know why everyone's obsessed with her."

Rudbick remained silent, but his eyes flickered toward Tessa. There was something in his gaze—cold calculation, as if he were assessing her potential, considering how she could be useful. James continued to sulk, his fingers tapping irritably against the armrest.

"I'm telling you, Dad, this whole thing is a joke. She's not that special. Just give me a chance, and I'll—"

"Quiet, James," Rudbick interrupted softly. "Watch and learn."

Back in the crowd, a group of Riverdale students began to chant again, raising their voices louder with each passing minute.

"Tessa! Tessa! Tessa!"

One girl in the group sighed dramatically. "Ugh, why can't Adrian be running today? I mean, he's practically built for this."

Her friend nodded enthusiastically. "I know, right? If Adrian was running, we wouldn't even need Tessa. He'd lap everyone twice!"

In the midst of the cheering, Adrian, sitting quietly on the sidelines, smirked to himself. He could feel the attention on him but remained cool. If he had wanted to, he could've easily joined the race and stolen the spotlight. But he didn't need the attention.

Tessa was more than capable, and besides, revealing his true speed in front of so many would be problematic for both of them.

Ms. Caldwell stood nearby, observing Adrian's reaction. She was the only one who truly understood what he and Tessa were capable of. Watching him now, calm and composed, she felt a strange sense of pride.

They were a well-kept secret in the middle of all this chaos.

Finally, the whistle blew, signaling the competitors to take their positions on the track. The chatter began to die down, but the tension in the air was suffocating.

Tessa walked toward the starting line, her eyes laser-focused. The ground felt soft under her shoes, the breeze teasing her hair. She flexed her fingers, feeling the subtle tingle of her alien blood coursing through her veins, steady and powerful. Bridget was already there, rolling her shoulders with a confident smirk plastered on her face.

The time had come.

Tessa bent down into her starting position, her muscles coiling like a spring, ready to explode the moment the gun fired.

The chatter of the stadium faded, replaced by the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears. She could feel the energy of the moment—the anticipation of the crowd, the anxiety of the other racers—but it all washed over her like a distant wave.

This was what she had been preparing for, and even now, she wasn't giving her all. If she did, the race would be over before anyone blinked.

In the stands, the noise had reached a fever pitch, with fans of each school shouting their last-minute encouragements and insults.

Karl, the ever-loyal Riverdale student, along with Oxlade, couldn't resist having another dig at a passing group of Fiver Academy fans.

"Hey, tell your track star to at least wave when Tessa laps her!" Karl yelled, grinning widely as his friends burst into laughter.

The Fiver supporters glared back, but one of them responded with a sly grin. "Just make sure Tessa doesn't trip on her own ego before the finish line. Bridget doesn't even need to see her!"

This banter only fueled the energy around the stadium, with students from every school getting in on the act.

Social media was in a frenzy, hashtags like #TessaTheBeast and #BridgetQueenOfSpeed trending in minutes. Even local celebrities were joining in on the fun, placing bets on who would come out on top.

"Let's just hope no one's ego gets bruised today," a commentator quipped on one live stream, "because this race might just shatter a few dreams!"

As the runners settled into their positions, Bridget took one last glance at Tessa, her expression smug.

She had been the queen of the track for too long to be dethroned now. Sure, Tessa had the reputation, but Bridget had the fire.

"You ready to taste defeat?" Bridget whispered, loud enough for Tessa to hear.

Tessa didn't respond, her focus razor-sharp. Bridget's arrogance was just noise, and she had no time for it. Her mind wandered briefly to the strategy Mr. Joel had drilled into her head all week—start strong, build momentum, but don't give it everything until the last hundred meters. She smiled inwardly. If only Mr. Joel knew the truth about her speed. She'd have to slow down just to follow his instructions.