Day One
The day had started like any other, but something was off. There was a palpable tension in the air that we couldn’t quite put our fingers on. It wasn’t until the blaring alarms pierced through the classroom that our hearts truly started to race.
The red strobing light by the door and the metal slats sliding down the walls, trapping us inside, were the first signs that something was terribly wrong. Mr. Jonas, our teacher, tried to calm us down, but his words were cut short by a chilling announcement over the intercom - a Level 3 Contagion had been detected in the south quadrant of the campus, and the lockdown and isolation protocols were now in effect.
We were ordered to stay put and not to panic, but the fear was palpable. We had heard stories of this contagion - how it could spread rapidly and how no one was safe. We tried to distract ourselves with idle chatter and jokes, but the weight of the situation was heavy on our minds.
The hours ticked by, and we were still stuck in the classroom, unable to leave or make any contact with the outside world. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional whimper or sniffle.
As night fell, we settled in for what we thought would be a long but ultimately temporary stay. We were wrong.
Day Three
The classroom had become our prison, and we had lost track of time. We were running low on food, and the smell of our makeshift bathrooms was starting to permeate through the room. Mr. Jonas had tried to keep our spirits up, but even he was starting to show signs of strain.
The once well-lit room was now dim and dreary, the windows and doors blocked by the metal slats. We were becoming restless, and the lack of information about what was happening outside was driving us crazy.
The occasional announcement over the intercom gave us no solace. The Level 3 Contagion had been spreading rapidly, and the lockdown had been extended indefinitely. We were trapped, and the realization was setting in.
Day Five
The hunger was gnawing at our insides, and the stench of our waste was unbearable. Mr. Jonas was no longer the composed teacher we knew; he was now pacing the room, muttering to himself and occasionally cursing under his breath.
We had resorted to playing games and snacking on whatever we had left, but the constant feeling of confinement was suffocating us. The thought of never leaving the classroom was becoming more real with each passing day.
The isolation was starting to take a toll on us. We were all losing our grip on reality, and the sense of hopelessness was overwhelming. It felt like we were slowly being consumed by the contagion, even though we hadn’t shown any symptoms.
Day Eight
The banging on the door startled us all. It was the Biology teacher, and he was using a chair to try and break it down. Mr. Jonas joined in, screaming for help, but the robotic voice of the lockdown system remained resolute.
The realization that no one was coming for us hit us hard. We were on our own, trapped inside this small room with no escape.
As the days dragged on, our behavior became more erratic, and fights started breaking out. We had become desperate for human interaction, and the isolation was taking a toll on us.
But the scariest part of it all was Mr. Jonas’s behavior. He was becoming more unhinged with each passing day, muttering about things that didn’t make sense and reciting prayers under his breath.
We didn’t know what was happening outside those metal slats, but whatever it was, it had turned our teacher into a shell of his former self