MidReal Story
Numbered Fates: School's Deadly Secret
Scenario:
A school with a murder ever group of children are separate by numbers 4B and 5B following after continuing until 1G where the murder is getting closer and closer to the other groups day by day but nobody knows what's going on
Create my version of this story
The first time it happened, it was a complete shock.
We were all in the cafeteria, eating lunch and talking with our friends.
I was sitting at the table with my friends, all of us in Group 1G.
We were all laughing and having a good time when we heard the first scream.
We all stopped talking and looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from.
Then we heard another scream, and another, and another.
It was like a chorus of screams echoing through the cafeteria.
I looked around at my friends, panic rising in my chest.
“What’s happening?”
one of them asked.
I shook my head, not sure what to say.
I had no idea what was going on or why everyone was screaming.
All I knew was that it couldn’t be good.
Then I saw them.
There were at least three of them, but they all looked the same to me.
They were all wearing black masks and black gloves, and they were all moving so fast that I could barely keep up with them.
They were like ghosts, like dark shadows flitting through the cafeteria.
More screams echoed behind them as the other students saw them and started to panic.
That was when I heard the first gunshots.
It was a sound unlike anything I had ever heard before, a loud crack that seemed to echo in my head.
The shots rang out one after another, a rapid staccato rhythm that filled the air with noise and made my heart pound in my chest.
Then the lights went out.
I was sitting with my friends from Group 1G when it happened.
We were eating lunch and laughing and being normal teenagers, and then it was like someone flipped a switch and everything changed.
The second time it happened, I was with Lucas.
We had just gotten our lunch and were sitting at an empty table in the back of the cafeteria, talking about our English homework.
I remember Lucas looking up from his notebook, worry etched on his face as he listened to the screams.
“What’s going on?”
he asked, but I didn’t have an answer for him.
Then the lights went out, and we were plunged into darkness once again.
Chaos erupted around us as the other students in the cafeteria started screaming and running for the exits.
Lucas grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
“We have to go,” he said, his voice urgent.
I nodded and followed him, trying to keep up as we wove our way through the crowd.
The cafeteria staff—four adults who looked like they were in their early thirties—were moving quickly through the room, trying to get everyone out as fast as possible.
They were shouting orders and trying to keep the students calm as they herded them toward the door.
“Come on,” one of them said when he saw us.
“Let’s go, let’s go!
Everyone out!”
“Where are we going?”
I asked as I followed him out of the cafeteria.
He didn’t answer.
“Go, go, go!”
he said instead, leading us down a hallway that was packed with students running in every direction.
“Just run as fast as you can!
And don’t make any noise!”
The staff were taking their own advice: they ran silently through the halls, not even bothering to shout instructions any more.
I could hear some of the students around me gasping for breath as they ran, but no one was screaming any more.
It was almost eerily quiet.
We kept running until we burst out of the school and into the bright light of day.
The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
All around us, students were streaming out of the school like ants fleeing from a flooded anthill.
There were no teachers or staff to be seen; it was like we were on our own.
Lucas and I stood in the hallway for a moment, hesitating.
The staff had told us to run, but they hadn’t told us where to go.
They hadn’t even told us what was happening.
The initial chaos seemed to have subsided; I couldn’t hear any more screaming or gunshots.
But there was still something in the air that made me uneasy.
Maybe it was just fear, left over from our previous experience in this hallway.
Or maybe it was something more.
As we stood there, a group of students ran past us in the opposite direction.
They were all from Group 2G.
I recognized some of them as my friends and classmates.
I opened my mouth to ask them what was going on and where they were going, but before I could say anything one of them put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
And then they were gone.
Lucas and I exchanged a look.
“We have to find out what’s happening,” he said.
“There aren’t any adults around to tell us what to do.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I know,” I said.
“But we should be careful.”
We started walking down the hallway together, stepping gingerly so our footsteps wouldn’t make any noise.
There were no sounds but our breathing and the sound of our hearts pounding in our chests.
As we walked, we started passing doors that opened onto classrooms.
Some were closed; others were open.
I peeked inside one room and saw it was empty.
But when I looked into another room further down the hall, I saw something very different.
My breath caught in my throat as I took in the scene before me: there was blood everywhere.
It looked like someone had been murdered inside that classroom—someone or maybe several someones.
“Lucas,” I said, reaching for his arm and pulling him back down the hall with me.
He followed me without question or comment until we were standing back where we had been before we started walking.
I let out a shaky breath.
“I think we should go back to the cafeteria and wait for the staff to tell us what to do.”
I started to turn around, but Lucas put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me.
“No, look.” He pointed down the hall behind me.
I turned around and looked.
At first, I didn’t see anything.
But then I realized that the floor was covered in blood.
And not just the floor; it looked like the walls had been spray-painted with it.
I felt my stomach lurch, and I had to swallow hard to keep from throwing up.
I had seen a dead body before, but nothing like this.
And then I realized that this wasn’t just any dead body.
These were students.
I counted at least five, but there could have been more.
All of them had been shot, and all of them had died where they fell.
“Look at the numbers on the doors,” he whispered.
I looked up and down the hall at all the doors.
They all had numbers on them, but none of them matched the numbers that I knew belonged to the classrooms we were standing near.
Lucas was right; something was definitely wrong here.
“Did they change the layout of the school without telling us?”
Lucas shook his head.
“No,” he said.
“I remember which classrooms are on this hall, and these aren’t them.”
“So how did we end up here?”
I asked him.
I thought for a moment that maybe we had taken a wrong turn somewhere, but now I didn’t think that was possible.
Lucas reached for my hand and held it tightly.
“We need to get back to the cafeteria,” he said.
I looked at him in confusion.
“You said yourself that we don’t know what’s going on out there,” he said, his voice firm and confident.
“But whatever it is, it’s not good.”
He nodded his head toward the numbers on the doors of the classroom where we were standing.
“The numbers are different now, but they weren’t when we left the cafeteria, right?”
I looked at the numbers again and realized that he was right: they were different now than they were when we had left the cafeteria earlier in the day.
“So what does that mean?”
I asked him, even though I already knew the answer.
“It means that someone changed them while we were gone,” Lucas said, his voice lowering to a near whisper so that no one else could hear him, even though there was no one else around to hear him except for me.
I felt my blood run cold as his words sank in and I understood what he was saying: We weren’t alone in the school today, and whoever had been here with us had done this—had killed these students—and then sent us out here to find them…or maybe to be killed ourselves?
I heard something creaking and looked up just in time to see the ceiling tile at the end of the hall move out of place—and then a pair of hands reaching down toward us from above.
I opened my mouth to scream, but just then, a voice came over the intercom, and we both froze in place as we listened to it, our eyes locked on the set of hands reaching down toward us from above—and then another set of hands came into view, too.
“It’s time to play again,” the voice said.
It sounded like a young girl talking, but there was something about her voice that made her sound otherworldly—like a ghost or a demon or something else horrible like that.
“Let’s play hide-and-seek,” she said, her voice cackling ominously with what sounded like glee.
“You can be it!”
