Rasazy's Fundamental Paper Education AU 2.0

The Chase/Confrontation

Claire's body throbbed with a dull ache as she climbed the staircase, her left shoulder protesting with every movement after her unfortunate fall in the underground area of the library. Each step sent jolts of pain through her arm, but she pushed through, determined to put as much distance between herself and the eerie quiet of the library's depths.

The hallway stretched ahead of her, lockers lined on both sides like sentinels in the eerie silence. The usual chatter of students was absent, leaving only the sound of her ragged breathing and the faint echo of her footsteps. She turned a corner, only to freeze in place, her heart skipping a beat.

At the end of the corridor stood Miss Bloomie.

The sight of the science teacher sent a bolt of terror through Claire's chest. The test paper clenched in Miss Bloomie's right hand bore a bright red 'F'—a stark reminder of her failure. However, it was more than just the failing grade that chilled her. Miss Bloomie's posture was rigid, and her left arm, a razor-sharp prosthetic appendage, gleamed ominously under the dim hallway lights. The sight of it sent a wave of nausea through Claire, the razor poised as though it had been made for one purpose: to cut through anything—or anyone—in its path.

"Run." Miss Bloomie's command was simple, her voice cold and devoid of any warmth. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural intensity, and Claire could feel the weight of her gaze, as if Miss Bloomie were hunting her.

Without a second thought, Claire obeyed. Her feet hit the ground hard as she bolted down the corridor, adrenaline surging through her veins. The sound of her shoes slapping against the floor echoed as she sprinted, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Every muscle screamed in protest, but the fear driving her forward drowned out the pain. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly in front of her, an impossible distance to safety.

But no matter how fast Claire ran, Miss Bloomie was always there, looming just behind her, closing the distance with an unsettling calmness. The science teacher's steps were steady, almost casual, but she was impossibly fast. Her razor prosthetic glinted in the corner of Claire's vision, always raised, always ready to strike. It was as though Miss Bloomie was toying with her—letting her run just far enough to think she had a chance before closing in once again.

The cold breath of fear crept up Claire's neck, urging her to move faster, to escape. She knew she couldn't keep this up much longer. Her body was already starting to betray her—her legs ached, her lungs burned, and her shoulder throbbed mercilessly.

In a frantic bid to escape, Claire darted into a nearby locker, squeezing herself inside just as Miss Bloomie raised her razor arm for what Claire feared would be the final blow. She held her breath, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the inevitable. But nothing came. The blade missed, intentionally, leaving Claire trembling in the cramped space, her mind racing with confusion. Why had Miss Bloomie let her go?

Emerging cautiously from the locker, Claire's heart sank as she encountered yet another figure in the hallway—Miss Thavel.

The math teacher stood there, her expression unreadable, holding a failed test paper of her own. The scarlet 'F' stood out like a beacon of doom. Claire could only stare, her body frozen with fear. Miss Thavel's lips curled into a sinister smile as she crumpled the paper in her hand, the sound of it like thunder in the silent hallway.

Panic surged through Claire once again. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to fight, to do something. In a split-second decision, she grabbed a notebook from a nearby unlocked locker and hurled it at Miss Thavel. It wasn't much, but it was all she had. The notebook flew through the air, but Miss Thavel, with chilling precision, sliced it cleanly in half with a swift motion, her smile never faltering.