Chapter 18

The bandage on my wrist itched beneath the gauze as I pushed through the infirmary doors, the nurse's advice about rest and hydration still echoing in my head. But rest was the last thing on anyone's mind. Stepping into the cacophony of the main hall, I was swept up by a tide of excitement that pulsed through the school like an electric current.
"Did you hear?" A cluster of students huddled near the trophy case, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and thrill.
"About the lizard?" another chimed in, leaning closer to the group as if sharing a state secret.
I edged past them, trying to make sense of it all. A rare large lizard? Here? It sounded like the plot of one of those old monster movies Mr. Henderson would play during his film appreciation club, where creatures from forgotten times would emerge to startle the modern world.
"Hey!" someone called out behind me, but I didn't stop. My thoughts were tangled, trying to reconcile the reality of biology class—where reptiles were confined to terrariums—with the rumors snaking around me. The sterile smell of antiseptic from the infirmary lingered in my nostrils, grounding me in the moment, yet my pulse quickened at the possibility of something extraordinary happening within these familiar walls.
I should have been worried about catching up on classwork, about the notes I'd missed while lying in that too-small infirmary bed. Instead, I found myself drawn to the windows, peering out into the courtyard where groups pointed animatedly at the bushes, the trees, any shadow that could hide a creature of significant size and unknown origin.
"Apparently, it's massive," a voice buzzed near my ear, a fellow student I barely recognized from my English literature class. "Like, not just a big iguana or something. We're talking dinosaur-big."
Dinosaur-big. The words hung in the air like a challenge, stirring a blend of skepticism and wonder within me. My gaze drifted over the faces around me—some alight with the prospect of the hunt, others furrowed in concern, and a few indifferent, scrolling through their phones as if large lizards on campus were a daily occurrence.
"Have you seen it?" I finally asked, the question slipping out before I could weigh its absurdity.
The student shrugged, their attention already drifting away. "Nah, but wouldn't it be wild if it were true?"
Wild, indeed. My imagination flickered with images of scales and claws, of hidden places on campus where such a creature might lurk. I shook my head, trying to dispel the fantasy. There had to be a logical explanation, I told myself. Yet, as I walked down the corridor, the hum of excitement followed me, and I couldn't help but feel that something truly unusual was unfolding at the school.
Stepping out onto the sunlit courtyard, I squinted against the glare reflecting off the windows of the main hall. The buzz about the lizard had escalated into a cacophony of wild theories and dares as students clustered around the notice board where the council's latest announcement flapped in the breeze. Curiosity tugged at me, pulling me through the throng until I was close enough to read the bold print.
"REWARD OFFERED," it announced in block letters that seemed to scream for attention. "Information leading to the safe capture of the unidentified reptilian creature will be generously compensated." An actual reward? My heart skipped a beat. This wasn't just schoolyard gossip; the council was taking this seriously.
I chewed on my lip, pondering the implications, when a thought struck me like a sudden clap of thunder—Mr. Hargrave. With his background in herpetology, he'd be all over this situation. If anyone could shed some light, it would be him.
I navigated through the corridors, past lockers adorned with stickers and magnets, each step quickening with purpose. But when I arrived at his classroom, it was not the familiar figure of Mr. Hargrave that greeted me, but rather the emptiness of the room, still and silent except for the faint ticking of the clock. Confusion settled over me like a dense fog.
"Looking for Mr. Hargrave?" Mrs. Penrose, the algebra teacher from the adjacent classroom, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.
"Yes, actually. Is he around?" I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
She shook her head, a strand of hair escaping her bun. "Took leave just this morning. Said something about a personal matter."
"Personal matter? You mean the lizard?" The question came out more accusatory than I intended.
Her lips twitched into a knowing smile. "Could be. He didn't give details, but you know how he is with reptiles. Probably couldn't resist the hunt."
"Right..." I muttered, though the pit of my stomach churned with unease. Mr. Hargrave was methodical, not the type to chase after wild rumors—especially not abandoning his classes without a solid lead. It struck me as more than strange; it felt wrong.
"Anyway, if you see him, tell him we've got essays to grade," Mrs. Penrose said before retreating back to her domain of numbers and equations.
Left alone in the hallway, I leaned against the cool metal of Mr. Hargrave's locked classroom door. The lizard was one thing, but Mr. Hargrave's sudden departure was another mystery entirely—one I had a sinking feeling was far more complicated than any of us understood.
Pressing my forehead against the cool metal of the door, I let out a slow breath trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts. The buzzing of the hallway faded into a distant hum as my mind slid back to earlier that day, beneath the glassy surface of the school's lake where everything was supposed to be under control.
My hand drifted to the pendant around my neck — the rune-inscribed talisman meant to shield me. But something had gone wrong. Instead of the usual serene dive, my vision had blurred, and the water around me churned violently like a living entity. Panic had clawed at my throat as I fought my way back to the surface, gasping for air in a desperate escape from what should have been impossible.
The rune had failed, or perhaps it was never meant to hold back what lay below. What was it that lurked in those depths? I shivered, the memory of cold water engulfing me still fresh, leaving a residue of dread that clung tighter than any wet garment. It wasn't just water down there; it was something else, something that whispered in the shadows and promised to pull me into its silent abyss.
Jolting awake in bed, my heart pounded against my ribcage as the remnants of the dream clung to the edges of my consciousness. The darkness of my dorm room seemed to press in on me, filled with the echo of a silent scream that had no voice.
"Are you okay?" The whisper came from the bunk above, laced with concern. It was Marianne, my roommate and steadfast friend through countless late-night study sessions and whispered confessions. She must have sensed my distress, her intuition always as sharp as the blade hidden under her pillow.
"Another nightmare," I admitted, rubbing at my eyes, willing away the vestiges of terror that danced just out of sight. In the dream, the water had turned to ink around me, coiling and constricting like chains. A creature, large and unseen, had brushed against my legs, its touch cold and malicious. I could still feel the imagined weight of it, a lingering violation of my own skin.
Marianne swung her legs over the side of her bunk and hopped down, her feet meeting the floor with a soft thud. "This is getting worse, isn't it?" she asked, sitting beside me, her presence a comforting warmth.
"Maybe... maybe you need to talk to someone about this? Like, professionally?" Her tone was hesitant but insistent, an audible frown in her words. She wasn't one to push without reason, her practicality usually tempered with patience, but the worry was clear in her dark eyes as they searched mine for resistance.
I shook my head, more out of reflex than conviction. "No, I can handle it," I muttered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my uncertainty. Talking to a counselor would mean acknowledging these dreams weren’t just figments of an overactive imagination. That something deeper might be wrong, and I wasn't ready to face that possibility. Not yet.
Marianne sighed, her hand falling away. "Just think about it, okay?" she pressed gently before climbing back into her bunk, leaving me alone with the shadows and my thoughts, the offer hanging in the air like a lifeline I wasn't sure I deserved to grasp.
The corridors of the school seemed narrower than usual as I navigated through the sea of students, their voices mingling into a cacophonous symphony of rumors and excitement. No one spoke directly to me, but their whispers slithered around my ears like serpents.