The morning light was weak—barely more than a gray mist leaking through the windows. But it was enough.
Enough to see.
Enough to act.
Katharina gripped the sharpened metal rod they had pried from the bedframe. Henriette held her improvised club—two table legs bound together with ribbon and hair ties. Seraphina had duct-taped scissors to a broken broom handle, and Monika… Monika just held a frying pan with trembling hands.
They stood by the door. Silent. Faces pale but resolute.
"We can't stay in here forever," Henriette muttered.
Katharina nodded. "We find supplies. Food. A radio if there's one left. Maybe someone else survived."
Seraphina reached for the door lock, her fingers shaking. "Ready?"
Katharina took a breath.
Then slowly—click—the lock turned.
She pushed the door open.
Just a sliver.
And froze.
Two girls stood there, no more than a meter away. Both wore the pale blue skirts of their school uniforms, now torn and bloodstained. One's hair—once tightly braided—hung loose and clumped with dried gore. The other dragged a twisted leg behind her, arms slack at her sides, head lolling unnaturally to the right.
They weren't alive.
But they moved.
Their heads turned as one, the sound of the lock like a gunshot in the silence. And then—without warning—they lunged.
Katharina barely got the door shut before the first one hit it with a sickening thump, her body slamming into the wood like dead weight. A moment later, the second scratched and clawed at the handle, moaning low and guttural.
"They saw us," Katharina hissed.
Henriette stepped forward. "Then we kill them."
Seraphina stared, wide-eyed. "We can't just— They're students. They were our classmates—"
"They're not anymore," Henriette growled.
Without another word, she yanked the door open and stepped into the hall.
The first zombie girl staggered forward, jaws open. Henriette let out a guttural cry and swung. Her club cracked against the side of the girl's head with a crunch—not enough to kill, but enough to knock her sideways.
The second girl lunged at her.
This time, it was Monika—small, terrified Monika—who screamed and swung the frying pan with everything she had. The impact rang out like a bell. The girl's skull dented inward. Blood sprayed against the corridor wall.
Seraphina choked back a sob.
Katharina struck next, ramming her metal rod through the chest of the first zombie as she tried to stand again. It pierced through with wet resistance, but the girl still moved, her jaw gnashing. So Katharina pulled it out—and stabbed again. This time through the eye.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry.
She only shook after it was done.
Henriette was breathing hard, blood running down her arm—she wasn't bitten, just scraped when one grabbed her—but she didn't complain.
Monika dropped her frying pan. Her hands were red. Her knees buckled.
"I-I killed her," she whispered. "I think I knew her. From Literature class."
Seraphina knelt beside her, wiping the blood from Monika's cheek with trembling fingers. "You saved Henriette. You did what you had to."
Monika nodded, slowly. She didn't speak again.
They stood in the corridor now. The dormitory wing stretched ahead, quiet but not empty. The two bodies lay at their feet—still and wrong.
Katharina looked down at her shaking hands. "I didn't think it would feel like this."
Henriette adjusted her grip on the club. "It's not supposed to feel good. Just necessary."
A sound broke the moment—a groan. Then another.
Shuffling footsteps. From the far end of the hallway.
Five. No—six shapes.
More girls.
More monsters.
"Back inside!" Katharina ordered.
But Seraphina didn't move. Her voice was small. "There's no end to them, is there?"
Henriette grabbed her wrist. "Not yet. But there will be. When we make one."
The group turned and rushed back inside, dragging the bodies with them, barricading the door with a desk and the wardrobe. Just in time. Fists slammed against the wood seconds later.
Monika collapsed into Katharina's arms, shaking.
Outside, the world was dying. But inside, their hearts were still beating.
Still human.
For now.