Cover High/Pekora

Interlude

Head bowed, you walk in silence down the hallway. The floor warps beneath your feet, rippling with each step you take. A gloomy mist hangs in the air that seems to suck all of the color out of your surroundings, leaving the world faded and washed out like an old photograph. Students pass to and fro on either side of you, an ocean of indistinguishable uniforms and blurred faces. The ghostly apparitions pay you no heed, and you none to them. An untold number of irrelevant and long-forgotten conversations flow through the distorted corridor, coalescing into a dull cacophony of noise. Though the voices surround you, they all feel unnaturally distant, as though coming from the next room over. The murmuring seems to follow you along your path, until you listlessly slip into your classroom and the droning sound finally dies.

With the usual motions, you pull out your chair, set down your bag, and sit down. Spectral figures of vaguely-humanoid shape populate the room, congregated in groups around the rows of neatly-arranged desks. You ignore their muffled, incoherent prattling. The phantoms are content to let you be, and you're more than willing to reciprocate. What they do amongst themselves is none of your business. You just want to be left alone. Crossing your arms atop your desk, you lay your head down and close your eyes, content to let your mind wander until another monotonous school day begins.

"Ah↓ha↑ha↑ha↑ha↑!"

Your eyes fly open. What was that? What was that noise? It was so distant, and yet it had cut through the haze with jarring sharpness. Picking your head up off the desk, you look in the direction that the sound had come from. The doorway that you had closed behind you is now ajar, the hallway visible through the narrow gap. Curiosity getting the better of you, you begin to rise from your seat. But as your hand moves to rest atop the desk, you feel something beneath your palm. With a downward glance you see, occupying the space where your head had just been resting, a small white box wrapped with a vibrant sky-blue ribbon tied up in a bow. The tag simply reads: 'Open me!'

Now caught off-guard twice in quick succession, you find yourself just staring at the box in bewilderment. This wasn't here a second ago. Where did it come from? What's going on? But despite your growing confusion, something compels you to follow the tag's instructions. Tugging on the tail-ends of the ribbon, you untie the bow.

The instant that the silky blue fabric comes loose, the box's lid comes flying off. The abrupt motion startles you, sending you staggering back and nearly tripping over your own chair. It takes a moment to recover from the shock before you register the cause of the lid's flight. Out of the box has leapt a bright orange carrot on the end of a spring. A note is stuck to the bouncing vegetable, upon which are written three words.

'Tag! You're it!'

So that's how it is. Alright then.

Accepting the challenge without question, you beeline for the open door and step out into the hallway. Your head turns just in time to see a blur of white and blue disappear around the corner, and you take off down the hall to give chase. As you round the corner to the stairwell, you look down to catch a fleeting glimpse of long braided hair on the floor below. Your pace quickens. You won't let your opponent get away so easily.

The instant your foot touches the bottom tread, the ground opens up in front of you as if trying to swallow you whole. In a snap judgment, you kick off of the stairs hard and leap through the air. Your feet just barely manage to land at the edge of the yawning pit, and you stumble forward to continue running. It's going to take more than a trick like that to stop you. Underestimating you will be your foe's downfall. Your mouth twists into a grin as you rush out into the hall.

Indistinct silhouettes of uncountable number fill the corridor, blinding you in a smokescreen of shadow. But through the smoggy blur, you can barely make out a pair of long white ears poking out of the sea of darkness. Gritting your teeth, you rush into the throng of ghostly bodies. Get the hell out of the way! The blurry shades flow around and past you as you run, not moving aside so much as being forcefully blown aside like smoke in the wind. You let the dark mist wash over you without care, your gaze remaining locked on the those bobbing ears. Though their pace nearly matches yours, the distance between you is slowly, but unmistakably, getting shorter. An exhilarated laugh escapes you as you close in on your quarry. Run, rabbit, run!