Where our corrupted dreams sprout

Dark.

That was their first impression the moment the blinding light faded.

This wasn't darkness caused by an absence of light. It was primordial, absolute—a darkness so potent it distorted the mind's perception and rendered all senses useless.

Even as they moved their limbs, brushing their hands against their own bodies to reassure themselves they were still whole, the void offered no clarity.

Their minds were so shaken, their senses so fractured, that they couldn't even tell if their hands were truly there. What if this was a hallucination? they wondered.

A desperate delusion—their brains compensating for a lack of input, tricking them into feeling alive when, in truth, they were lost. Floating. Trapped in a lucid nightmare, caught in the void, unable to process what reality had to offer.

Ceryn's mind groaned under the weight of exhaustion, but he ignored the oppressive void. Instead of succumbing to fear like the others, he focused on trying to understand it. He already knew the creature wouldn't harm them unceremoniously. This wasn't his first time being restrained, robbed of sight, and ferried across an unknowable distance.

The sensation, though different in its intensity, wasn't new to him. So he remained calm and collected, letting his mind steady itself in the chaos.

Gradually, a small dot of light appeared in his vision. It expanded rapidly, faster and faster, swallowing the darkness whole until it consumed his entire world.

Gasp!

Ceryn sat up sharply, the cold marble beneath him sending a chill through his body. He was drenched in something.

Sweat? No… not quite.

He brushed at his damp clothes but dismissed the thought as inconsequential. Around him, groans echoed as the other students began to stir. They were scattered haphazardly across the floor, their bodies twisted in awkward positions, struggling to regain their senses.

Ceryn rose to his feet, his sharp eyes scanning the room. He quickly located Myrille, then Asher, and finally Claire. Not having much of a relationship with the latter, he waved casually to Asher as he made his way to Myrille.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice calm but firm as he extended a hand to her.

Myrille took it, her grip weak but steady enough. "I… don't think I'm fine," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But if you're asking if I'm hurt, then no." She managed a faint, tired smile.

"Ceryn, just now, did you feel it?" Asher called out as he approached, his brow furrowed in concern.

"I did," Ceryn replied, his tone neutral but his expression tense. "And it wasn't that far off, maybe less…potent"

Asher frowned but ultimately agreed with his deduction.

Claire quietly made her way to the group, observing their expressions for a moment before speaking. "Ceryn, I don't know much about you, and I'm sure the same goes for you about me. And while this might not be the best time to trust the people around you, I'd like to ask if you'd consider adding me to your group," she said calmly, her voice measured.

She turned to Myrille. "I'm sure Miss Myrille can vouch for my character. I won't do anything to harm you, but I believe sticking with you all is a safer bet for my survival."

'I need to join them,' she thought. Staring at Asher and Myrille 'They're both capable, and…' she turned to Ceryn 'he's reliable in his own way'

Myrille pondered for a moment, her expression conflicted. Then, after a pause, she finally spoke.

"Claire, yes, you are honest, straightforward, and kind, as I've noticed," she said, her words causing Claire to smile in relief. But what followed wiped the smile from Claire's face.

"But I'm sorry—I cannot vouch for you."

Claire froze, stunned for a moment. She collected herself and replied cautiously, "Might I ask why, Miss Myrille?"

Myrille glanced at Ceryn briefly before turning her gaze back to Claire.

"Because if you make a mistake that hurts him, I won't be able to forgive myself. I already feel like a burden to him, and adding someone else for him to babysit would be beyond selfish," she explained, her tone firm but apologetic.

Claire absorbed the words, her expression shifting as understanding replaced her earlier surprise. She nodded, then turned her focus to Ceryn.

Ceryn studied her for a long moment, his eyes cold and calculating. Finally, he gave his reply

"Honestly I don't trust you, but I don't mind as far as you kee—"

He stopped mid-sentence as a loud bang reverberated through the space, followed by a muffled scream.

"Give you a break? Oh, you're in for a treat, princess."

Ceryn's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the commotion, his irritation stacking further.

"What are you doing? Leave her alone!"

A female student's desperate cry cut through the air as she rushed to the aid of another girl. The injured student lay crumpled on the marble floor, her fingers bent at grotesque angles. Her screams of pain echoed in the empty, desolate void surrounding them.

"She didn't do anything to you! What's your problem?!"

Samuel loomed over them, his grin wide and cruel. "My problem? Did you just talk back to me?"

He grabbed the second girl by her hair, dragging her up and slapping her viciously across the face. The sickening sound of skin on skin echoed as the girl screamed and clawed at his hands, tears streaming down her face.

"Let her go! This isn't the time for this! What's wrong with you?!"

A male student stepped forward, fists clenched tightly. "I saw what you did. You pretended to be disoriented, then tried to touch her. And when she pushed you off, you started hitting her. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Samuel turned to him, his grin widening. "And what are you going to do about it?"

He stepped into the boy's personal space, his imposing figure making the other student flinch and look away.

'Big mistake.'

Samuel's fist shot forward, slamming into the boy's stomach. The student doubled over with a choked gasp, the wind knocked out of him. Samuel followed up with a brutal uppercut, the force of it rattling the boy's teeth and sending a couple flying.

The student collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding mouth as Samuel began to kick him repeatedly. Around them, the other students recoiled, too paralyzed by fear to intervene.

"Are you out of your mind? Stop this instant!"

Samuel paused, turning slowly to face the source of the voice.

Myrille stormed toward him, her pale face flushed red with rage. Her features were twisted in fury, her usually calm demeanor replaced by a fiery determination.

She walked right up to Samuel and slapped him hard across the face.

The sound echoed like a gunshot.

The students gasped, their eyes widening in shock. Samuel stood frozen for a moment, the sheer audacity of the act rendering him speechless. But then his face twisted with fury, and he snapped his head toward her.

"Big mistake, teacher," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "I wonder where you got the confidence to do that. There's no law here to protect you from what I'm about to do."

He rolled up his sleeves, his eyes narrowing as he took a menacing step forward.

"I've made up my mind," a cold, familiar voice cut through the air.

Everyone froze.

"I don't care much for the other students," Ceryn continued, his tone detached and chilling. "In fact, I couldn't care less if you all died."

The students stiffened, a cold dread settling over them.

"But her?" He gestured toward Myrille as he stepped closer to Samuel. "She's the only one I care about here."

"Oi, what about me?" Asher interjected, his voice laced with mock annoyance.

Ceryn ignored him entirely.

"And the fact that you have the gall to threaten her..."

Ceryn stood inches from Samuel now, his cold, unflinching eyes locking onto the boy's. Samuel glared back, his body trembling with rage.

"You," Ceryn said softly, his voice like ice, "I will ki—"

"Hahahahahaha! A very lively bunch we have here!"

Ceryn frowned, his words cut off. He turned his head slowly toward the source of the laughter.

A clown.

It stood no taller than a toddler, its grotesque form impossible to ignore.

Its oversized head bore a grin stretched impossibly wide, revealing jagged, yellow teeth. One bulbous, milky eye and one burning red eye twitched beneath bruised sockets. Its patchwork jester costume—splattered with dark stains—jangled softly with bells as its unnaturally long arms brushed the ground. Each marionette-like movement was jerky, as though yanked by unseen strings, each step squelching wetly.

"Oh, my little friends, welcome! There is no need to fight!" it said, grinning wickedly.

"You have come from afar to my realm to play with me."

Its voice changed, shifting from light and cheerful to dark and sinister.

"Now, let's all have fun and delight in the games."

The clown threw its hands into the air, and the ground beneath them trembled violently.

Two gigantic hands burst from the floor, slamming down with such force that several students lost their footing.

The clown giggled and spun in excitement as the hands pulled something massive from the ground—not a creature, but a circus.

The monstrous structure groaned and shifted, secured to the ground by chains. The sky above turned a sickly green, streaked with pulsing black veins. The air grew heavy, reeking of burning sugar and rotting meat.

The circus loomed before them, bathed in flickering, broken neon lights that buzzed and sparked against the oppressive gloom.

Above the entrance, a warped sign twisted and writhed as though alive.

It read:

"WELCOME TO THE CARNIVAL OF FLESH."