Episode 6 — After the Bells, Run through the Daylight?

DONG.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then:

“RUN!” Mrs. Clara screamed, yanking her son by the arm.

“Mommy? Where are you?” another child sobbed from somewhere nearby.

Any other time, people would have stopped to help. But when the bells rang… it was every person for themselves.

Parents dragged kids off their bikes. Teenagers abandoned their backpacks in the dirt.

Doors slammed open all over Whitegrove. People poured into the streets—kids, parents, teachers, elders. Some ran with wide, terrified eyes. Others… moved with grim, practiced focus, like this was a drill they’d trained for their whole lives.

The sky, already heavy from the earlier rain, turned darker still. Clouds churned like something alive.

Michael hadn’t made it far.

He barely rounded the corner when the first bell rang.

He froze mid-step.

The rain had faded to a cold mist. His shoes squished with every breathless shift of weight.

DONG.

His chest tightened. All that talk—how he didn’t care, how none of this scared him—it vanished the second instinct took over.

His legs moved before he could think.

Not toward home. Not toward safety.

Back.

Toward them.

Toward the gazebo.

At first, the bells rang too fast.

Then slower.

Then deeper.

DONG.

Michael turned, panting, staring at the sky. Too dark for this time of day.

Too wrong.

This wasn’t the life they had grown accustomed to. Since the witch’s death, there have been a total of seventy bells that have rung. Twelve times per year, sometimes once a month, sometimes weekly. Every five years, that was the pattern they worked around.

Never like this.

DONG.

The third bell roared, louder now—closer somehow.

Michael sprinted through the muddy path, chest heaving, shoes slipping.

When he burst through the trees, Sasha stood first.

“Michael? What’s happening?”

“The bells,” he gasped, pointing over his shoulder. “They’re... I heard them...”

“We did too,” Tania said, voice tight. “All three. Could it be the church bells or something?”

Anya clung to her sister’s arm, nails digging into her sleeve. “They’re not supposed to ring again… not after just one day… right?”

“No,” Sasha whispered. “Something’s wrong.”

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

Even the rain seemed to stop.

Then the bells rang again—twelve times in total before falling silent.

Wind rattled the tree branches. Nothing else.

Michael moved to the edge of the gazebo, peering toward the road he’d come from.

“I swear it came from that direction.”

“Then let’s not go that way,” Anya said quickly. “Let’s wait here. Just for a little longer.”

“Fuck that,” Tania snapped, crossing her arms. “Let’s go to the church.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart,” Michael muttered. “It might not be safe either. Let’s get somewhere high. See how things go.”

Then, faintly.

A soft, dragging sound.

Like wet cloth being pulled over gravel.

Michael’s stomach dropped.

“Get back,” he said sharply.

“What?” Sasha asked.

“I said get back!” His voice cracked.

The others scrambled away from the gazebo’s edge just as a figure turned the corner down the street.

A man—no, not a man.

A suit.

Pitch black. Soaked through like it had been dipped in tar.

Its arms hung low and loose. In one hand, it dragged something long and rusted.

A scythe.

The figure paused at the center of the road, its head cocking sideways at a sick, unnatural angle.

Then—step.

Another step.

Straight toward the school.

Michael’s throat closed. “We need to go. Now.”

“But where?” Sasha whispered.

“The Gym! Mr. Ellis....he kept spare keys in the utility closet!”

“How do you even know that?” Sasha asked.

Anya shot back. “Is that important right now?”

He grabbed Sasha’s hand and bolted.

Tania and the twins followed.

They pushed through the double doors of the school building, slamming them shut behind them.

“Of course, he runs with the birthday girl,” Tania muttered, fumbling through her soaked jacket for her phone.

The utility closet was near the back hall. Even though the bodies and hair had been cleared from earlier, the stink of dried blood still hung in the air. The floor was still stained.

“There,” Tania pointed.

Michael wrenched the door open, rummaging through shelves. “Damn it… where…?”

“Forget it,” Sasha said, already moving. “Upstairs. Second floor. The library is still open!”

They sprinted for the stairs, slipping, gasping for air.

Behind them—the front doors of the school began to shake.

Once.

Twice.

Something-no—someone—was trying to get in.

The lock held.

“Damn it,” Tania cursed. “Why are the Suits out in the afternoon? I told you we should’ve stayed home.”

No one argued.

Sasha led the way down the second-floor hallway.

“I haven’t even been to the library in months,” Tania muttered, stumbling behind. “Don’t even remember where it is.”

When they reached the door, it was locked.

Tania swore loudly. “Damn it! It’s not open, Sasha!”

“I’m sorry! Mr. Ellis always left it open for me...I...”

She stopped mid-sentence.

Michael didn’t wait for more explanations.

Two hard kicks.

The old wooden door cracked, then swung wide.

The library smelled of dust and mildew.

It hadn’t been used in years. Most students just read from tablets now.

But it was the second place, other than the Gym that still had solid walls and no open windows. If anywhere in this school was a panic room… this was it.

“Barricade the door, Now!” Michael shouted, lifting a desk like it was paper.

They dragged chairs and desks against the door, stacking anything with weight.

Heartbeats thundered in their ears.

“What was that thing?” Anya whispered, crouched behind a bookcase.

“A Suit, obviously,” Tania said without thinking.

Michael didn’t correct her.

“Why now?” Sasha’s voice trembled. “Oh my God, this can’t …be happening.”

“Maybe…” Tania swallowed hard.

“…Maybe the rules are changing.”

Boom!

Boom!

A knock at the door.