[@Savo][@JBRam2002][@Suku][@GarlandDaHero]

[b]Santen[/b]

Okazaki stepped up silently towards the emergency exit, hand reaching for the knob. If all went well and the eerie facsimile of their school proved to work the same as their reality, then it would give them a path to escape. It was entirely possible that this strange world was bound by different rules, or that the exit would lead to absolutely nowhere they wanted and rendering their entire trek here entirely moot, but to be perfectly honest, the Drama Club's Vice-President doubted he would be particularly fazed by such an occurrence. A success sounded invigorating, and he definitely wanted that, but if it didn't pan out, then they would just have to try again.

He just needed to open this door. That was all.

His hand brushed against the flaking brass.

Magma.

A thousand burning pinpricks ran through his arm and lanced right through his head, a jagged lightning bolt of searing hot white. He staggered back, unconsciously raising his right hand to his forehead, left gripping tightly onto his wrist.

Pain.

[right][b][i]ļ̴̛̭̘̯̠͎̩̺̙͋̿̈̇͊̃͘̕̚e̷̢͈͇̘͍̩̔̎̅͆t̵̬̤̤̙̟̼̹͉̟͚͎̙̆͐̑́̒͆͒͗̚ ̷̢͚̝̜̫͎̖͓̣͖͂͋̀̽́͌̓ͅȍ̸̢̦͕̳̜͇̮̗̫̮̤̺͈͔̑͂u̶̬̹̺̽r̷̯͍̤͔̠͊̿͋̀͆̅̈́̌̈́̊̈́ ̵̡̢̛͕̫̗͉̀h̸̡̞̞̰̭͖̬̙̥͍͎̽̃̓̌̈́͌̀̂̔̚̕̕͠͝ó̸̳̏̓̆̽̇̈́̕͝͠ŗ̸̛̛͈̳̳͕̫͈̇̓̀̒̓̈́́̒̕͝s̴̱͎̻̠͎̥͑̏͋͂ȩ̴̛͎̤͚̺̮̹͇̳̩̲͈̾́͗́͂̈́͗͛̇͗͐͝ͅs̴͈̝̼̺̮̳͎̓̓́̇̏͜ ̸̛̛̻͙̉͂̅͑̓͌͛͌̈͘͝͝ŝ̵̢̧̢̱̫̮͕̖̭̖͔̳̮͌͆̒ͅt̵̘̘͙͖̍ͅą̷͎͍̦͓̮̹͈͖͑̉̿́̋̆́̌̏̚͠ǹ̴̛̛̳́̓̾͊͋́̇͝͝d̵̯͔̘̯̰̝̈́̋̌͋̀͗̃̽͊͋͆͆̽͠͝,̵̡̠̱͔͍͙̘͇̦͖͓̯͌̑̎̈̓̈́́̔̔͘͠ͅ ̷̧̮̯̜̖͍̺̤͔̺͠f̵͍̹̬̒̈́̎̚͜ó̸̧̫̠̰̬̫̹̮͇̩͙͍̻͗̽̀̆̔́̇̋͋̕ͅr̴͔͚͈͔̜͉̮̣̪̳̬̜̫̠͑̏̾̃̃̊̽͗͂͂͘ ̸̬͙̠͓͓̠͔͓͂̑͋͊̓͗͂̿̎̿̽̋̏ị̶̧̡̡̢̛͇̘̟̹̙̞͋̇̄̂̈͜ ̵̛̹̟͈͖͉̬͚̮̯̳̏͂̄̃̔́̄̋̈́̉͊̈̚͘a̸̛͖͇̖̦̔̎͛̽̊̓͛͐͗̕͝m̶̨͓̘̱̺̝͈̙͔̃̈́͛͆̾ ̵͈͉̯̣̝͚̋͂̽̄͑̽̌̈́͌͐͘ͅm̸̧̡̪̰̠̞̗̩͙̩͖͙̯͒̈́̉̎̓̑̈͠i̶͙̬̫͇͑̈́͛̀́n̸̮͇̋͗̏̔̆̊̾̅̅̉͗̍͠d̷̡̛̯͚͙̪̲̹̙̟̠̮̙̘̅̎̃͆̓̅e̸̩̲͚̬̹̙̾͒d̴̡̞̠̜͍͎̗́͂͑̓̔̎͒̓̀ ̶̮̟̈́t̶̡̧̧̛̛̰̰̻͉̩̀̊̽̀̈́́̊́̄̓̚͠͝o̴̙̤̖̲̮̟͌̇̍́̂̉̄̾͑̂̕͠ ̸̧̻̦̼̰̒́̽̿͊̆̄͒̿͒̚͝͝ḑ̵̢̛̩̻̘̻̩̱̿͋̒͐͂͂̎͐̈́̒̚͘̚ȩ̵̢̗̳̘̳͍̰̠͎̳̪̘͔̒̔̓̓͗̆̔̓̎͜͝p̶̛̤̑̓̆̓͑̑̒̋̏́̿̾͜͜͠ą̵̨̰͎̞̺̮͉͓̫̰̝̖͂͒͒͊͝ŗ̶̨̨̹̜̠̹̙͓̲͙̲̣͕̠͊̏̿́͆̈́̉̿̋̃̏ṱ̶̪̪̤̈͋̍͗̕̚ ̴̘̝͖͎̩͈̌̉́̒́̒̐͘͝ͅa̵̠̺͓̱̘͕̖̝̥̭͚̯̯̳̍̆͠ḡ̷̨̡̝̮̯̮̩̻̯͔̯͝a̶̡̛̛͍̦̟̫͖̜̦͔͓̣̋͑̓͌̂͐̒̕i̴̻̯͚̹͓͉͙̟̽̒̉͌̓̍̓̉͊̓̕ņ̸̠̟̱͈̝͙͕̓̈́̾̋͋̋̒̋̚ ̵̡̰͉̠͓͈̳͗s̷̛̤̻̾̈̓̏̐͆̆͊͘͘p̸̢̣͈̲͖͙̳̻̮̜̼͐͛̂̈́̌͛̋͑̀̈́̕͜ͅę̸̡̝̗̬̜͚̗̲̥̅̃̍̇̅̔ė̵̖̙̹̰̖̥̰̗͈̥͕͓̎̐̊̾̈́̓̐͛͛̕̕d̶̗̾̓̍̾̊͂̃̏́̍͑́̂̿̆i̴̝͖͋̿͠l̵̫̼͚̘̭̋̿̈́͘͠ȳ̷̡̹͔͙̫̞͇̥͓̥̺̪̘̪̆̈́[/i][/b][/right]

A loud chime.

It resounded across the school.

The chiming of ... of a bell.

Even despite the burning, he knew it.

The clock tower bell.

And [i]they[/i] came.

Neon green oozed from the windows, a mass of shocking colour filling the monotony of the glass and walls as they rose up from the Expanse outside the windows, cutting short Alexander's peek into the haze of purple and red that dropped into a chasm of nothingness. They oozed and rippled, coalescing, and the ears of the children would hear.

Hear the chittering.

The walls seemed to rust.

A film of acidic emerald became legs.

Happily dancing closer.

Bulbous, gangrenous masses of pink. Almost unidentifiable.

Yet the sight of human flesh, no matter how distorted, will never be one that Man can mistake.

The pink, leaking green, flow from all sides.

And they are born, one by one.

Little, little feet. Milliard in number.

And their golden eyes awoke, turning in perfect synchronicity upon the visage of Alexander.

Ugly, uneven masses, bulbous like fungi. Rotting in scent, rotting in looks, pink giving way to black and sickly yellow. And upon that black were the cysts, little, pulsing as if to pop. And some had, the leeching of neon green acid from small holes flowing over their sides and towards the floor.

Keratin protrusions from a mouth.

Two mouths.

Far too many sets of two mouths.

Sickly claws as sickly teeth.

Chittering. Chattering. Shambling and dancing along. A wave of pink masses upon a wave of green liquid.

And the tide fell upon Alexander, drowning him beneath the stench of flesh.

Beneath the green, [s]heavenly[/s] hellish liquids.

And with seraphic, beauteous tones, they buzzed their delightful cries.

For they were here.