Would you like to know what's fun about this? I'm going to Italy tomorrow, so I have a real reason to not update this thing. I own nothing in this story, since the idea was taken from the episode Hush from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I promise I'm not going to stick too closely to their plot.
Ponyboy's head dropped forward as the warm breeze coming from the open window and the monotonous voice of his history teacher lulled him into a light sleep. He could smell the freshly cut grass outside, the blooming flowers… if he listened close enough, he almost thought he could hear the frantic movements of a bee's wings as it sped around the classroom.
"Mr. Curtis, am I boring you?" The harsh voice jolted him awake, and he looked wildly around the room. At long last his eyes settled on his teacher, who glared down her nose at him. At that moment he was struck by just how much she resembled a hawk, but embarrassment soon rid that thought from his mind.
"No ma'am," he murmured, attempting to discreetly wipe away the drool that had accumulated on his desk while he had been dozing.
She gave him one last hard, withering look that made him want to crawl beneath his desk and die, before heading back to the front of the room. Ponyboy's eyes fell to his desk, running over his carefully-written notes as if to make sure everything was still there.
Twenty minutes and one unbelievably loud bell later, he was practically running from the classroom. He hurried down the hall, books clutched to his chest, desperate to make it to his locker before his next class.
Johnny was there, leaning against the door and looking every bit like the tough hood people made him out to be. When he caught sight of Ponyboy he grinned, raising a hand in greeting. Ponyboy noted briefly that the hand was messily bandaged, and made a mental note to ask his friend about it when they were less pressed for time.
"Hey man, how's it goin'?" Johnny questioned, seemingly oblivious to the frantic, hurried look in Ponyboy's eyes.
"Can't talk, Johnny, I gotta get to English… if I'm late again, Darry'll kill me…"
"You could always skip," he replied almost hopefully. Johnny ditched class whenever he was able, but unless he had someone to leave class with, he almost always ended up coming back. "It'll be fine, Pone, nobody'll notice…"
The bell.
Ponyboy pulled his hand out of the locker as if it had just burned him. "Shit… I gotta get to class… where's my English notebook… hey Johnnycake, have you seen—"
The hall was empty, the silence thick and suffocating. He looked around, absentmindedly rifling through his locker in a halfhearted attempt to find his notebook.
"Can't even shout…"
The voice echoed in the hallway, young, mournful. The hairs on the back of Ponyboy's neck stood on end and a shiver passed through his body. Something wasn't right here.
"Can't even cry…"
Closer. Ponyboy resisted the urge to look around, for fear that by doing so he would somehow fall victim to whatever it was that lurked behind him in the empty hallway.
"The Gentlemen are coming by…"
He turned ever-so-slightly, confusion replacing only a small bit of the fear that held his inside in a cold, vice-like grip.
"Looking in windows, knocking on doors... they need to take seven and they might take yours."
Finally he allowed his body to turn, ready to face the horror that waited for him. However, he was almost disappointed when he saw only a small girl standing a few feet away. She stood, staring straight at him, an ornate red and gold box in her hands.
"Can't call to mom, can't say a word... you're gonna die screaming but you won't be heard."
Ponyboy sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, heart beating like a drum.