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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Ok-Counter-9441 on 2024-11-24 14:09:19+00:00.

PART 2

“Alright,” Wes whispered. “Faculty office is down the main hall, near the principal’s office. Stay close and don’t make too much noise.”

I glanced back at Tommy, who was clutching his pocket knife like a lifeline. “You good?”

Tommy nodded, forcing a grin. “Let’s just get those keys and get out of here. Don’t wanna run into one of them again“.

We moved cautiously through the dimly lit halls, our eyes darting to every shadow and flickering light. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of our breathing and the sound of our steps.

As we rounded a corner, Wes held up a hand, signaling them to stop. He squinted into the darkness ahead, where the faint glow of an exit sign illuminated the door to the faculty office.

“There,” he whispered.

Wes nodded and moved forward, but just as we reached the door, the sound of something shifting echoed down the hall behind us. All three of us froze, eyes widening as we turned to look back.

“What was that?” Tommy hissed.

“Probably the Lurker,” Wes muttered, fumbling with the office door. “We’ve gotta be quick.”

I tightened my grip on the wrench in my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. “Just get the keys, Wes. Tommy and I’ll keep watch.”

“Guys, it’s locked,” he muttered, stepping back.

Tommy let out a frustrated huff, gripping his pocket knife. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s break it down.”

“Don’t,” Wes snapped, holding up a hand. “You’ll just make too much noise. Give me your pocket knife instead.”

Tommy hesitated for a second, then handed it over. Wes crouched by the lock, squinting as he wedged the knife into the mechanism. “Keep an eye out while I work on this,” he muttered.

Me and Tommy exchanged a glance, then turned our attention back down the hallway. The silence wasn’t comforting—it felt alive, like it was waiting to pounce.

“You know how to do this, right?” Tommy whispered over his shoulder, his voice laced with doubt.

“Sort of,” Wes grunted, concentrating. “Saw my brother do it once. Could be worse, though—you could be the one doing it.”

Tommy rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. His grip on the screwdriver tightened as a faint noise reached our ears: a soft scraping sound, like claws on tile.

“Wes,” I whispered urgently. “Hurry up.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Wes hissed back, frustration seeping into his voice.

The scraping grew louder, followed by a low, guttural growl that sent shivers down our spines. My heart pounded as i glanced over my shoulder. A shadow moved at the far end of the hallway, tall and hunched, its uneven gait growing faster.

“Wes,” Tommy said, his voice sharp now.

With a triumphant click, the lock gave way, and Wes pushed the door open. “Got it!” he whispered, motioning for us to get inside.

But before we could even move, the Lurker charged. Its claws scraped the floor as it lunged towards us.

“Move!”Tommy barked, shoving Wes into the room. I darted in after him, slamming the door shut just as the creature’s claws raked against it. The force of its attack shook the door in its frame.

“Block it!” Wes shouted, and Tommy and I scrambled to shove a filing cabinet against the door. I heaved one side while Tommy pushed the other, the screech of metal on tile echoing in the small office. Just as the creature slammed into the door again, they managed to wedge the cabinet in place, holding it shut.

The Lurker howled outside, the sound guttural and furious, its claws scraping relentlessly against the wood. For a moment, the three of us stood frozen, breathing hard and staring at the door, waiting to see if it would hold.

Tommy broke the silence first, his voice shaky. “Please tell me it can’t get in here.”

Wes shot him a look. “You saw Greg’s car.”

I exhaled, wiping sweat from my brow. “Alright,” i said. “Now let’s find those keys first. We’re gonna make it somehow.“

We spread out, rummaging through drawers and cabinets as the Lurker continued its assault on the door. Every now and then, the cabinet shifted slightly, but it held firm. After what felt like an eternity, Wes let out a triumphant whoop, holding up a ring of keys.

“Got ‘em!” he said, grinning.

“Great,” Tommy muttered, “But how are we gonna—”.

Wes furrowed his brow, glancing at me and Tommy. “Is that…?”

I tilted my head, listening closely. A powerful, soulful voice echoed faintly through the halls, accompanied by the unmistakable rhythm of Jefferson Airplane’s “Somebody to Love.”

“It’s music,” Tommy said, his voice low, almost disbelieving. “Where the hell is that coming from?”

Wes’s eyes darted to the door. “It’s loud,” he muttered.

As if on cue, the scraping at the door ceased. The Lurker let out a sharp, guttural snarl, and we heard its heavy footsteps retreating down the hall, the sound fading as the music swelled.

My grip on the wrench tightened as I exchanged a look with the others. “Whatever that is, it distracted it. We can’t waste this chance.”

They nodded in unison, our fear temporarily overridden by determination. Wes cracked open the door just enough to peek outside. The hallway was empty, but the music filled the space, coming from somewhere deeper in the building.

“It’s clear,” Wes whispered, opening the door wider.

The three of us slipped out into the hall, moving swiftly but cautiously. The glow of flickering overhead lights made every shadow seem alive. The music grew louder as we approached the exit, the lyrics almost surreal in our clarity:

“Don’t you want somebody to love…”

Tommy muttered under his breath, “What kind of psycho is playing this right now?”

I shook my head. “No idea, but whoever it is, they might’ve just saved our asses.”

Just as we reached the main entrance, we stopped short. A figure stood in the middle of the hallway, leaning casually against the wall. The acrid scent of cigarette smoke wafted towards us as the man exhaled a cloud of smoke, the glowing cherry of his cigarette briefly illuminating his weathered face. Slung casually over his shoulder was a shotgun, its barrel gleaming faintly under the dim lights.

“Well, what do we have here,” the man drawled, his voice raspy but calm. He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowing at the us. “You boys got a death wish, or are you just stupid?”

Tommy gawked at him, his eyes darting between the shotgun and the man’s face. “You’re… the janitor, right?”

“Sharp as a tack,” the janitor replied dryly, flicking ash onto the floor. “Now, are you gonna keep standing there with your mouths open, or are you gonna tell me why you’re sneaking around my school while there are monsters out there?”

I couldn’t shake the odd vibe the janitor gave off. There was something too relaxed about his posture, like he wasn’t fazed by this whole situation. It didn’t add up. “We’re trying to get out of here,” I said cautiously. “Our car’s totaled, and we’re heading for the bus outside. The music…was that you?”

The janitor smirked, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. “Guilty as charged. Got a little creative with the PA system to draw those freaks away. Worked better than I thought.” He lowered the shotgun from his shoulder, gripping it with both hands. “Now, I’m guessing you’re not the only ones here. Where’s the rest of your group?”

Wes stepped forward. “Yeah. We were just getting the keys.”

The janitor smirked. “Figures. Only reason anyone’d stick around this mess.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I stepped closer, my voice low. “You’re not freaking out like everyone else. Do you know what’s going on here? These things, you seem like you’ve dealt with them before.”

The janitor’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve seen enough to know you’re in over your heads.” He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You think this just happened out of nowhere? Ask your parents if you can find them.”

My stomach twisted at the cryptic response. “What does that mean?” I pressed. “Do you know what these things are? Why they’re here?”

The janitor straightened, his expression hardening. “Time’s running low, kid. I ain’t got the luxury to play twenty questions, and neither do you. You’ve got people waiting on you.” He let out a long sigh, his eyes briefly softening. “Just… do yourself a favor. Get your friends, get that bus, and get as far from here as you can.”

I didn’t look away, suspicion gnawing at me. “You won’t come with us?”

The janitor chuckled dryly, though there was no humor in it. “Because some messes don’t get cleaned up by running away.” He looked down at the shotgun in his hands, his face clouded with something unspoken—guilt, maybe, or regret. “Besides, I’ve got my own business to finish here.”

Wes frowned. “Business? You mean…?”

The janitor cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you kids getting out alive.” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small revolver. He flipped it open, revealing six bullets inside the cylinder, then handed it to me,

I hesitated but took it, feeling the cold weight of the gun in my hand. “I… I don’t know how to use this.”

“You’ll figure it out,” the janitor said. “Don’t waste your shots. And don’t let your hands shake when it matters.”

Tommy glanced at the janitor. “You’re really not coming with us?

The janitor slung the shotgun back over his shoulder, stepping pa…

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