With Fear or Without

Prologue

She drifted aimlessly through the halls of a public high school, with its long hallways and rows after rows of mundane lockers that were the constant supply of stress to students on the first days of school. The campus was colorful, the murals and writings painted over the grimy gray walls making it obvious this was an arts school. One of creativity and liveliness. Patched of dew covered grass were scattered about, but there were no soccer fields or football fields. In fact, there were no sports field at all. The largest area in the school was the auditorium, the school's pride and joy. 

The most unusual, and deeply unsettling, thing about the school at present was the absence of life. This school was always loud, filled to the brim with voices outspoken and longing to be the focus of attention. There was constant noise all around, colors and creation blooming everywhere you looked. It was a welcoming and chaotic place.

But now, the school was empty. Silent. Eerie. Not the kind of welcoming atmosphere you wanted to go wandering around in. Especially not with the fog that filled the area. The fog that was so subtle and translucent it seemed to disperse in front of you, condensing at the edge of your vision like pools of swirling wind. The combination of the fog and the gray clouds above made the colors dim and gray, like a picture sapped of most of its color.

She was the only sign of life and she was breathing heavily, the sound of her breaths filling the emptiness around her as she strolled through the halls. With the fog obscuring her vision ever so slightly, she was forced to squint as she walked, dragging her hand lightly on the row on lockers that stretched out next to her. She couldn't think of where she was going, or why. Her mind was also filled with that mysterious mist, pushing away any rational thought. But she was definitely going somewhere, as if the fog condensing behind was nudging her in the right direction. 

She had no sense of how long she had been walking. Time was warped here, stretching out impossibly far and squeezing together in the same instant. It shouldn't take her this long to walk down that hallway. It should take her more than a couple strides to cross that courtyard...

As she rounded a corner the push behind became stronger. It came from inside her now as well, an invisible string being tugged from the center of her sternum. She was getting closer, she could feel it. Not an emotional feeling but a physical one, like her body needed to get her to the destination. Her very bones ached to get closer, her feet working on their own to move her forward.

She stopped abruptly. She turned to her left, directly facing a locker. The metal door flew open and crashed against the wall, the muffled sound reverberating through the air. The locker was empty, but she couldn't make out the back of it. A black abyss filled the space inside, so deep it swallowed the light around it as she stared into it. The fog gave her one last push and dispersed into the air. Its job was done. It was up to her now.

She kept walking, one foot in front of the other. As she went, she kept her gaze sideways at the lockers as each flew open one by one. The crash of metal against metal became a rhythm, each one revealing the same piercing emptiness. The constant sounds continued and followed her lead as she marched on through three more hallways. A third of the school's lockers now hug open, empty. 

Finally, she stopped again. She faced a locker, one just like any other. Her heartbeat picked up speed, her very being itching to see inside. Her light chestnut hair flowed out behind her like she was facing a powerful fan, streaks of lighter brown catching the rare rays of sun. She leaned forward on the balls of her feet with anticipation for something she didn't know. It seemed obvious that she would be drawn to this place, this specific spot, that she scolded herself for not realizing it before.

She drew in another breath and reached fingers outstretched towards the locker. Just as she raised her foot to take a step, a light made its presence known from between the grates like a flashlight was stored inside. She took a hesitant step forward and the white glow grew brighter, a crystal clear warning sign in the murky surroundings. It grew, brighter and angrier, and Cleo's fear and curiosity matched its intensity. She was rooted to the spot, pulled back by apprehension and pushed forwards by interest and need.

The glow pressed out towards her, deep reds and oranges beginning to take root in the light. It grew and grew until it was the color of roaring flames and it covered her vision.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the blinding light still pressing in through the edges of her eyelids trying to seep in through the cracks. When the light faded, her surroundings faded in to replace it.