The chainsaw didn't come closer.
That was the first thing that felt wrong.
It hovered at the edge of the courtyard, the sound low and constant, not charging, not retreating… just existing. A mechanical purr that crawled under my skin and refused to leave.
Alden noticed it too. I felt it in the way his grip tightened around my hand.
"That's new," he murmured.
I nodded slowly. My eyes traced the shadows between the gym and the main building, the narrow passage where the light never quite reached. The same place where blood always pooled. Where Alden always…
I forced the thought away.
"He's waiting," I said.
"For what?"
"For us to break first."
The chainsaw clicked off.
The silence that followed was worse.
It slammed into my ears, thick and absolute, like the world itself had stopped breathing. Even the insects went quiet. My heartbeat sounded too loud, traitorous.
Alden leaned closer, his voice barely there. "Listen to me. There are rules. I never told you because once you know them, you can't unknow them."
I didn't look at him. I was watching the passage.
"I already watched you die," I said. "Whatever this is, it's already inside me."
He swallowed.
"Rule one," he said. "The loop ends when you die. Not him. Not me. You."
I felt that land somewhere deep and hollow.
"So I'm the anchor," I said.
"Yes."
"And you?"
"I'm… collateral," Alden said quietly. "I exist long enough to try to save you." Alden continued,
"Rule two: injuries carry memory, not damage. You wake up whole, but your mind remembers what your body felt."
That explained the pain. The phantom burning in my chest when I woke up. The way my hands shook like they'd held something sharp.
"And rule three?" I asked.
Alden's voice dropped.
"He can't be stopped the same way twice."
A chill ran through me.
"So every plan you tried…"
"He adapted," Alden said. "Every time. I hide the knife, he brings another weapon. I stay close to you, he splits us up. I get teachers involved, he waits until later."
"Until there are more people," I finished.
Alden nodded grimly. "Massacre nights are his favorite."
The silence broke.
The passage shifted.
A shadow detached itself from the darkness.
The killer stepped into the light.
Up close, the mask was worse than memory could capture. Not just cracked… worn, like it had aged alongside us. The blank face stared through us, through time, through every version of this night that had ever existed.
The chainsaw hung loose in his grip, silent, casual. Like he didn't need it yet.
"Oh," he said pleasantly. "You're standing differently this time."
Alden moved half a step in front of me without thinking.
The killer chuckled.
"You always do that," he said. "Doesn't help. But I admire the consistency."
My pulse roared.
"You remember us," I said.
He turned his head slowly toward me.
Interest flickered behind the mask.
"There it is," he said. "The awareness."
Alden stiffened. "Don't talk to him."
"I need to," I said.
The killer laughed softly. "Talking never saves you."
"No," I said. "But it changes things."
His chainsaw twitched.
I continued, forcing my voice steady. "You don't reset, do you?"
He tilted his head.
"Clever," he said. "Took you long enough."
Alden sucked in a breath.
"So you remember everything," I pressed. "Every loop. Every mistake."
"Every scream," he corrected gently. "Every variation."
"And you adapt," I said.
"Yes."
A cold certainty settled in my chest.
"You're not just killing," I said. "You're testing."
The killer took a step closer. The smell hit me then… oil, metal, something coppery underneath.
"I'm refining," he said. "You're the variable."
Alden's voice shook. "Then what's the point?"
The killer looked at him like he was boring.
"To see how long it takes before hope rots," he said. "Before you stop trying."
His gaze slid back to me.
"You're new," he said. "Usually, you beg by now."
"I don't think you can kill me yet," I said.
The night seemed to freeze.
The killer stopped moving.
Alden turned sharply. "What are you doing?"
I didn't answer him. My eyes were locked on the mask.
"If you kill me now," I said slowly, "the loop resets. You lose this version of us. This progress."
Silence.
Then, laughter.
Low. Delighted.
"You are learning," the killer said. "That makes you dangerous."
"And bored killers make mistakes," I shot back.
That earned me another step forward.
"I like you better this way," he said. "Aware. Angry."
The chainsaw revved once, sharp and sudden, then settled again.
"But you misunderstand something," he continued. "I don't need to rush. Time is on my side."
He glanced past us.
Toward the gym.
The lights inside flickered.
A distant shout echoed. A teacher calling for cleanup.
Alden's face went pale.
"He's moving it forward," he whispered. "He's never done that before."
"Because we broke the pattern," I said.
The killer smiled behind the mask.
"I don't hunt prey that behaves," he said. "I punish it."
The chainsaw lifted slightly.
"Choose."
Alden snapped. "Choose what?"
The killer's head tilted.
"Him," he said calmly. "Or them."
My breath caught.
I followed his gaze.
Through the glass doors of the gym, I could see people laughing, stacking chairs, arguing over trash bags. Normal. Unaware.
Alive.
"If we go in," Alden whispered urgently, "he isolates you. That's how he wins."
"If we don't," I said, "they die."
The chainsaw purred.
Tick.
Tick.
I made my choice.
I pulled Alden toward the doors.
The killer's laughter rang out, sharp and delighted.
"There it is," he said. "The first real deviation."
The chainsaw screamed to life.
We ran.
Inside, chaos hadn't fully bloomed yet… just confusion. Lights flickering. Teachers arguing. Students slowing down instead of leaving.
I didn't hesitate.
I climbed onto a table.
"Everyone listen to me!" I shouted.
Heads snapped up.
Fear spread fast. Faster than reason.
"There's an intruder," I said. "This is not a drill. Emergency exits, now."
A teacher stepped forward. "Get down, this isn't—"
The chainsaw tore through the doorway.
Screams exploded.
People surged toward the exits. Someone tripped. Someone cried.
Alden grabbed my arm, eyes wide. "You changed it," he said. "You actually changed it."
The killer stepped inside slowly, savoring the panic.
"Yes," he said. "You did."
He raised the chainsaw.
"But remember this."
The lights blew out.
Total darkness.
His voice echoed through the gym.
"Every life you save… costs you time."
The chainsaw revved again.
I tightened my grip on Alden's hand.
And for the first time,
I wasn't reacting.
I was counting.
-S. Yusuf