Cage spent the following week wandering the woods searching for something, but for what, exactly, he did not know. After waking up particularly early that morning, he decided to take the long way to school, along an old fire road cutting through the woods.

When he set off, it was the beginning of what would be another warm day, and he enjoyed the sounds of the morning, cicadas already buzzing with the rising sun. He stopped for a moment to pull a small wooden box from his pocket containing a cylindrical metal pipe about the size of a cigarette. He ground one end of the pipe into the wooden box’s reservoir and then lighted the filled end with a match, inhaling to the faint crackle of burning dried plant matter. He exhaled, and the warmth of the morning comforted him.

Up along the road was a sharp turn, and taking it, an old stone cabin came into view. The property the cabin rested on was overgrown, and while the stone structure stood strong, the roof had rotted out, leaving most of the interior exposed to the elements. Cage went inside.

The place smelled of rotted wood. And dust hung in the air, vines groping for light along the insides of the windows. Against the back wall was a table, and cobwebs stretched diagonally from the table and chair legs to the floor. There was a door in the far corner. It seemed to sigh and waver, spilling its air onto the floor of the cabin. He heard a scratch from behind the door. After a moment’s hesitation, he went over and opened it.

Inside was a small utility closet with crooked wooden shelves running along one side. Across from that, a shovel and some old tools hung on the wall. When he had opened the door, he discovered the source of the noise: a nest of mice scattered and hid. Cage shut the door and went back outside. He took another draw from the pipe and checked his watch. School started in 23 minutes.

After first period, Cage went to the boys’ locker room to take a leak. Robert was there with a few classmates talking privately among the lockers. When they saw Cage come in, Robert nodded, but the others simply glanced over, said nothing, and turned back in toward themselves to speak in confidence.

Cage went in past the shower room to the urinals in the back. He let go in one, shook himself dry, and turned around to leave. In that moment, he had th distinct feeling he was lost, as if he was seeing the room for the first time. Where he had come from was now a solid cinderblock wall. The showers were still there, the heads sticking out of the walls, but there was no way out. He was trapped.

The overhead fluorescents made an electric buzz, and one by one, flickered off until the room fell dark and silent. Cage felt sick. Fear bolted through his every nerve. And then he saw it. The claws rooting into the concrete floor, thick metallic vines growing up the torso, the powerful arms hanging low, fingers dangling to the ground like knives. And the eyes. Fiery and alive and staring into Cage. The ringing in Cage’s ears grew louder. “What do you want?” he cried. And when it spoke its reply, in that sound that was only in Cage’s mind, the scraping of broken glass against the inside of his skull, Cage jumped and kicked in his desk.

“Sorry to interrupt your nap, Cage,” Mr. Feldstein said. Cage was sweating and wiped his mouth.

Feldstein shook his head and turned his attention to the blackboard. Cage’s stomach churned. He picked up his bag and walked out the door.

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