The Principal

Chapter 1:Death in the Desert

Warning: This story contains mature themes, language, and violence that may not be suitable for some readers.

Three teenagers dash across a dimly lit street as they desperately escape from a large dark building labeled Sonoran High School. Their figures keep in the faint yellowish glow of the overhanging street lamps, doing their best to avoid the darkness of night at all costs. A large fat moon hovers in the clear night sky, which seems to chase them as they make their way down the empty and silent street. A tall male wearing a torn yellow football jacket leads the group. A female runs behind him, her angled bob, black hair matted to her forehead with sweat, and spots of blood dotting the front of her white blouse. The last, a husky male, runs a few steps behind them. He struggles to keep up with them and gasps noisily for air. He turns around and calls out to the other two.

"Guys, guys, wait for a second. He's not following us," he gasps between hoarse breaths.

In a panic, the female grabs the husky male's arm, and pulls at him, "We've got to keep going. We are not safe here. That thing is a hunter, and even though it looks like he is not following us, we are still unprotected out here."

The male jerks his arm away from her and rakes his fingers through his hair as he grunts in frustration. The female turns away from him, shaking her head, and turns to the other male and checks his arm.

"He didn't get you did he?" she asks.

The male pulls up the sleeve of the jacket and runs his fingers over the unbroken tan skin on his arm, "No, no. I think I was able to dodge that swipe," he slides his arm away from her, "I mean. What the fuck was that? That was not a human hand. A human hand could not have done this," he cries out in panic as he brushes his fingers along the hanging pieces of fabric.

The girl clings tightly to the fabric of the yellow jacket. She holds her breath as the feeling of being watched washes over her, and she pulls down on the jacket twice. The other teen becomes still at the sudden sensation, and both hold their breath as they glance around them. There is nothing but silence that answers them back. As they stand underneath the street lamp, they feel surrounded by the darkness of night, which distorts their sight. The female's heart begins to race, and the hairs on her body prick to standing. She can feel his eyes upon her, and she yanks the other two out of the light and down the street towards the neighborhood. In the dark, somewhere, he is hiding. Staying in the light of the moon but keeping out the artificial light.

"Let's go. We need to get home. We are not safe. He is coming to get us! Let's go!" she cries out in panic. Her voice becomes shriller which each passing word.

The three take off down the street, away from the shop buildings and the school, towards their homes. As they make their way up the driveway, their legs ache, and their lungs burn, but they don't stop until they reach the front door. The larger teen digs in his pockets, his short round sweaty fingers struggling to grab the slick metallic keys. Panic rises quickly as he bends down to pick them up, and in the darkness, he works to find which key belongs to the lock. He fumbles as he pulls them out of his pocket, they catch on the corner of the fabric of his pants, and they drop to the floor.

"Hurry, he's coming," the female wines behind him.

"I'm trying. Stop freaking me out even more than I already am," he complains.

She gazes into the darkness and inhales quickly as a prominent black figure appears in the street, halfway illuminated by a street lamp. The figure creeps forward, and her heart sinks into her stomach. The figure stalks them as the male struggles to unlock the front door. The jingling of keys matches the beating of the female's heart as the figure makes its way closer to the light. The shadowy figure drops its arms to the side, and dark liquid oozes off its fingertips. Curiosity gets the better of the female as she takes a step toward the figure unconsciously. She desperately wants to know what the liquid is, even though she already knows what it is. The front door swings open, and one of the teens drags her into the house. They slam the door quickly behind them, double-checking all the locks before they rest against the door panting heavily to calm down. A slight sense of relief washes over them as they huddle close behind the locked wooden door.

"Are your parents' home?" the other male asks as he turns on the front light.

"They should be. They didn't go to the assembly like most of the other town did," the fatter one explains.

The three of them make their way toward the kitchen at the rear of the house.

"That will be good, and then they will probably be...." The girl starts, but her words trail off, and her mind goes blank as she looks at the open back door.

It stands wide open, letting the darkness seep in against the bright light of the kitchen, and a smeared trail of blood leads behind the kitchen bar. The female is the first to take a step forward, followed by the other two, as they inch their way into the kitchen to glance behind the bar. Like three deer in headlights, they stand; not a single word is exchanged, nor do they move. The body of a large male lays crumbled on the gray title as blood pools out of the large deep gashes across the diced stomach. The fatter male lets out a shrill scream, and the three scatter through the house for a place to hide, forgetting all about the open back door.

An older male makes his way through the house, sniffing the air and following the scent of the teenagers. He reaches a hallway closet, yanks the fatter teen out of it, and snaps the teen's neck before he even has a chance to scream. The man drops the body onto the floor and steps over it as he makes his way deeper into the house. A chuckle emerges through the silence after the scream, and heavy boots echo through the house on the wooden floors.

The female scrambles her way into the master bedroom closet. She closes the door quietly behind her, holding tightly to the handle to stop her hand from shaking. She listens but hears nothing before glancing around the space in the dark and noticing a large dresser on the rear wall. She slides the heavy dresser away from the wall a few inches and squeezes behind it. She covers her mouth with her hand and hears a scream before everything falls silent again. Warm tears stream down her cheeks, and she curls into a tighter ball behind the dresser. The footsteps get closer, and the door to the closet creaks slowly open.

"You know it's no use hiding from me. I can sniff all three of you out," the man's hoarse voice speaks through the silence, "Although I do enjoy a game of cat and mouse every so often."

The young woman panics at the sound of his voice, and a warm liquid releases itself from her body, soaking into the thick material of her jeans. The sound of his heavy boot steps stops directly on the other side of the dresser. The older male grabs hold of the corner of the dresser and throws it into the closet wall, leaving her completely exposed. The female screams as the man grabs her and yanks her off the floor.

No one hears the muffled scream that erupts from the tannish concrete house that blends snuggly into the desert landscape of the small town or the long mournful howl that penetrates the silence of the night.