Passa Piano

Chapter One

Cotton.

The dry, suffocating cloth of her pillowcase was clenched between her teeth and the salt of tears stained the pillow here and there. Gasping, the nightmare a hazy memory, Nikka groped around for the incessant alarm clock that wouldn't cease its ringing.

One smack, two smacks, three. The damn thing wouldn't shut up and in a fit of Monday rage she hurled the clunky alarm across the room.

Silence ensued.

Hair a glorious mess, a familiar glint of annoyance in her eyes, and a blood-stained gauze wrap on her right hand; Nikka looked as though coming off a three-day bender with an unfortunate finale. Gritting her teeth, she poked at her split knuckles as she remembered the circumstances under which she nearly broke her hand. To be truthful, it had felt like punching piping although the gruesomely satisfying crack of breaking bone that had followed was worth it.

She'd been walking home from work through a shortcut; a dark, rather dismal alleyway, when out of nowhere she'd been shoved at breakneck speed into a wall. The assailant had been cloaked in darkness yet despite that, their glowing eyes full of bloodlust were perfectly evident. As terrified and confused as she had been, to her, those eyes were not an unfamiliar sight. Nor were the following snarl and accompanying disproportionate strength. Nikka had managed to fight off the bastard but emerged from the altercation with a busted hand.

At least it's not broken.

Finding little consolation in the thought whilst doing her best to remove the gauze wrap as she soaked the injury in cool water, Nikka cursed under her breath. The now broken alarm clock that lay pitifully on the floor, still flashing 9:00AM, had not only glitched out but was in summary absolutely shit at serving its purpose. Now, as a result, she was late to school.

Only two more months, only two. Then, you'll be free from dealing with this nightmare.

The thought played over and over in her head as a mantra while she hastily gathered her remaining wits and fucks to give.

...

"Really now? You come in late and then start licking at your wounds? Does this look like the infirmary?" the teacher's passive aggressively laden tone peaked in shrill questioning and dropped into a clipped baritone, "Out."

In her haste to get to the building, the bandaging on her hand had come loose. She'd been quietly and covertly redoing the wrap when the proverbial last straw of sanity must've snapped in the 56-year-old man's mind. Quietly but swiftly, she grabbed her items and silently marched out the door. She pointedly slammed it shut behind her with barely contained ire.

Nothing outside the infirmary had seemed amiss, but upon entering the room the darkness of the space was surprising. All the lights were off as well as all, but one blind was drawn. Inside, not a peep of sound could be heard but the faintly illuminated form of a student stood a few meters away. Eyebrow perked but not sensing hostility, Nikka continued forward only to stop in her tracks. Under the desk, barely visible, was a silhouette of a body curled in fetal position.

What... The ever-loving fuck, is that?

A wave of shock washed over her as her muscles stiffened, and adrenaline shot through the roof.

Something tells me that whoever that is, they're not breathing.

Stuck in fight or flight mode, she didn't notice the approaching presence. At this point, connecting the dots with numbed realization, she realized that the figure she'd spied earlier must've been responsible for the body under the table. A broad back proceeded to collide with her shoulder, jostling her out of shock and drawing a tensed groan from the student. Angry eyes zeroed in on the disturbance in the form a petit female as he whipped around, clutching at his nose.