DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hollywood U. This amazing game belongs to Pixelberry! :)

My responses to your reviews:

80. (04/09/16) MiraMaria: I wasn't sure I could describe a horror setting, so I'm glad you liked the way I described the atmosphere in that chapter! :) I am also very happy that we can now recruit Thomas Hunt! :D You're very welcome, and thank you so much for reviewing this chapter! :)

79. (04/09/16) Guest: Thank you! :) I wasn't sure anybody would review this chapter because the one after it was going to be published the day after, but I was so happy to see that you liked this chapter! :)

Chapter Twenty-One: Day 16d (Tuesday) – Learning Fear (Levels 11.1-11.2)

Shaking himself out of it, Thomas confirmed with Ethan the position of the majority of the zombies before telling his students that there was a chance for them to survive. Bianca, however, disagreed, but Thomas expanded further on his point.

"While there are more of them, it is likely that one of them is as strong as one of us, meaning that their reanimation has not granted them extra strength. Not only that, they move slowly and sluggishly, which makes surrounding their prey necessary. As long as we aren't cornered, we can survive to see tomorrow."

He continued, "There are prop weapons in the hall closet here on the ground floor. The hired actors were supposed to use them as part of the demonstration we had planned. They're only toys, and won't hurt the zombies, but those prop weapons can still keep us out of their reach. After taking those weapons from the closet, we'll head for the back door. Since there are more zombies on this side of the house, we'll have a chance of making it out if we use an alternative escape route."

They started to nod in agreement of the plan, and he took the moment to sternly tell them, "If you want to live, you need to do exactly as I say. That is the only way that this plan will succeed. Like it or not, I am your best, and, more importantly, your only chance to survive the night. Do you understand?"

His students nodded again – just as the glass of the left front window shattered, and Addison's warning...

"Look out, Professor!"

...was too late, and he acted if he were surprised to see the zombies start to tip over the bookcase as he had intended them to. The undead crawled through the now useless window, knocking over the bookcase just at the right angle for Thomas to pretend it had hit him with great force. Drawing from his acting past, he pretended to be felled by the bookcase, falling on the floor with it resting on top of him.

Now supposedly unable to do anything, he watched as the front door burst open and more living corpses flooded into the now-crowded living room of the large mansion. A zombie, growling that they wanted brains, grabbed Jenni's right arm, only for her to wail that the grabbed appendage "was her Tweeting arm."

I can't believe my students are so... Maybe I should plan a class specifically to give them better priorities in life...

Though Bianca cried out her friend's name, she was unable to help as a small group of zombies dragged Jenni out of the house. Wondering what his other students were doing, he turned his head – just in time to see a large group of zombies partially fill the gap between himself and Marie Claire...

...and her eyes widened and he heard her gasp, "No!"

How touching, he thought sardonically...

...and then he pauses as he sees her bend her knees and duck her head as she quickly grabs from the floor something that looks like a discarded ball point pen.

What is she planning on doing with that?

Still close to the floor, Marie Claire clutches the pen like how a trained assassin would grip a serrated, poisoned dagger. She tilts her face up, her face completely devoid of expression as she looks at the zombies standing between herself and her grumpy professor. Her eyes fly back and forth, possibly counting what must be over twenty zombies-

Wait, is she truly counting them? Does she think that she can actually-

-and she looks as if she is coldly cataloging vital body organs, formulating a calculated strategy that will see her destroying the undead that are blocking the path between herself and Thomas-

But I'm only her professor; why does she look like she-

-and she clutches her dagger-pen even tighter as with a sudden spring, she leaps up from her crouch on the floor, propelling herself towards them in a move that is purely and wholly one savage, feral attack-

-only to be pulled back by Ethan, mirroring what Marie Claire had done for him outside the house, and Thomas vaguely hears him tell Marie Claire that the situation was too dangerous.

And at his words, Marie Claire's complete lack of facial expression evaporates and she cries out, "We can't just leave him! Thomas! Thomas!"

Something in his chest aches when he hears her say his name with such desperation. These are only the second and third times she has used his first name, and a hidden part of his heart is of the strong opinion that he cannot and will not hear her scream his name in such a hopeless manner ever again; because each time he hears his name from her lips, it ought to be said, just like the first time, with tender affection like she had during their dance in the rain the night of the Fairy Kingdom Formal...

...but he refuses to acknowledge these thoughts because he still has a part to play.

With the cool detachment of a seasoned actor, he hides his feelings behind manufactured panic as he pretends to struggle underneath the very thin and very light plywood bookcase on top of him. But then he raises his head, and...

...their eyes meet for a single moment in time...

...and even after he tells them to run and they do, and even after the zombie actors help him get out from underneath the bookcase...

...he will wonder why, in that single moment in time, Marie Claire looked almost as if she were begging Thomas with her eyes to let her stay.

"Thank you," Thomas said after a couple zombie actors helped him up, most having gone after his remaining students. "How are my students? I mean, of course, the captured ones."

One of the zombies – he recognized Gold Hoop Noserings's voice – replied, "They're at the make-up stations. They were really happy to hear that they weren't go to be eaten, but this one student... I don't know her name, but she keeps on taking selfies-"

"Jenni," supplied Thomas.

"-Jenni, last I heard of her, she kept holding everybody up because she just had to take a picture of every second of the make-up application process."

That sounds like her.

"Alright. I'll take care of the situation. Thank you. Please join your comrades."

At that, they parted ways: the actors to his remaining 'living' students, and Thomas to the portable make-up stations outside the house, just a few feet away from the back door.

As he approached and they noticed him, the make-up artists, Jenni, and his other students all started to talk at once.

He raised his palm sharply. "Stop!"

They did.

Thomas turned to the head make-up artist. "How have my students been? I hope they haven't been giving you any problems?"

She replied, "Most of your students have been wonderful, Professor Hunt – once we explained what they were supposed to do, they gamely let us put zombie make-up on their faces. It's just that this self-absorbed one-"

"Jenni!" his student pouted. "Why do you all keep calling me the self-absorbed one?!"

The head make-up artist raised an eyebrow at Jenni, who, even at that moment, was trying to take another selfie. "I wonder why," she said dryly. Turning back to Thomas, she continued, "This self-absorbed one keeps slowing us all down. But at least she's cooperating, so there aren't any real problems."

Nodding his thanks at the head make-up artist, he turned to his students. "How have you all been?"

Mova, who had been the first student to be caught, grinned widely, the action looking peculiar on her supposedly decomposing face. "It's been great, Professor! Since your class, I like improv more than I used to before, so this is going to be a fun experience!" She slumped. "Even though my primary line will just be something about brains..."

"Ah..." said Thomas, perplexed at her sudden change in mood, "Well, a true improv actor can make any line sound convincing and full of heart. Just work on it and you will perform adequately."

Mova perked up at that. "Thanks, Professor! I will!"

As she moved away to practice a couple of growls, Thomas thought humorously to himself, And that is how you trick students into doing what you want them to do.

For fifteen minutes, Thomas walked among his students, having short conversations with most of them as he inspected the work of the different make-up artists. They had done a good job making everybody look slightly different – with some creativity with their make-up, his students looked like they had been mangled in a variety of ways or had suffered several disgusting illnesses before dying slow, painful deaths.

By the time he had made his rounds, everybody, even Jenni, looked like proper zombies. Thomas was just about to talk to her when he heard a loud commotion from the mansion entrance.

What is that?

Following the noise, he almost stumbled into five people. Four zombie actors each struggled to maintain a good grip on the arms and legs of the student they were carrying, who was flailing around like a squirmy, highly caffeinated eel.

"No!" screeched the student desperately, trying to punch the zombie holding her right arm, but unable to do so. "You won't turn me into a zombie!"

Thomas blinked. That's not a student I would have expected to resist so fiercely, but being Marie Claire's friend, I suppose brashness must be contagious...

He cleared his throat. "Miss Sinclair?"

Not appearing to hear Thomas, his student continued trying to free herself from her zombie captors, who were slowly taking her to the portable make-up stations. "And I won't let you eat my brains! I need my brains! Go get your own!"

Walking alongside them, he tried again. "Miss Sinclair?"

Still focused on the supposedly starving zombies, she shouted, "I dare you to eat me! I'll headbutt you before you can take one bite!"

Thomas had had enough. "Addison!"

At the sound of her first name, Addison blinked, momentarily going still as she tried to process what she was seeing – her slightly annoyed professor looming over her after her zombie captors had just finished laying her on the grass.

"Professor?" she inquired in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

He started to explain the concept of his Fear 101 lesson to her. "Stop making such a fuss. You are supposed to calm down and let the-"

But before he could finish, Addison wailed loudly and started struggling again. "No! I won't calm down just so that you can eat my brains! I won't! I won't!" Her howls grew increasingly louder. "You think I'll just let you eat my brains without a fight? Just try it and I'll kick you in the-"

Thomas sighed. This could take a while.

Forty minutes later – which consisted of thirty minutes trying to calm down his panicked student, and ten minutes enduring endless apologies from said student for her threatening to kick him in the head so hard it would soar over the mansion like a football – Addison's zombie make-up was applied as speedily as possible and he and his other students were stationed at the back door of the house, surrounding it in a semi-circle so that the remaining survivors wouldn't see the portable make-up stations just a few feet away.

Suddenly, the back door burst open, and the students-turned-zombies standing outside saw Bianca, doorknob in one hand and plastic spear in the other. As his zombie students started to surround her, forcing her back into the house, she stopped when she recognized two distinct zombies.

"L-Lance? Jenni?!"

Adding their own flavor to their undead moans, their low growls of "Baaaaeeeeeee..." and "Hashtag Braaaaaainnssss..." were enough to stop Bianca in her tracks long enough for them to grab her and drag her outside. Ethan, who was similarly in shock at seeing his fashionista friend as a zombie, was unable to do much but emit garbled sentences as Addison pulled him away from the safety of the mansion.

And after applying zombie make-up to their new captives so fast that Thomas was almost sure that the make-up artists had broken some kind of world record, they followed the other zombies, all of whom were pursuing the last person still 'alive,' who, as Thomas had predicted to himself earlier, was none other than his most promising, yet most frustrating, student.

At the sound of a heavy door upstairs being slammed shut, Thomas knew that Marie Claire had made it into the attic – the only place the last survivor could logically end up after Thomas had locked all the other rooms in mansion the day before.

Upon reaching the highest floor of the house, he silently gestured to some zombies to station themselves around the attic door and handed one of them its key. He then directed the others to follow him into a supply closet just beside it, which had a large hole in the wall that was covered by a painting hanging inside the attic.

As more zombies lined gathered behind him, Thomas stayed still to hear if he student was saying anything, and he wasn't disappointed. Though slightly muffled, he could hear her talking to herself. "Those zombies are going to keep coming after him... I have to block the door somehow!"

She's still not giving up.

The next few minutes consisted of her huffs and puffs and groans as she, presumably, struggled to move heavy furniture by herself. After hearing her push for a couple of minutes what was probably the heavy bench inside the attic, she stopped.

All of them could hear her panting in exhaustion before she said, "Don't know what a bench was doing all the way up here, but I'm lucky, I guess... Now I just need to... to..."

She paused.

"But... what am I going to do?" Marie Claire asked despondently, as if somebody could provide her with answers. "Addison... Ethan... Professor Hunt..."

-Thomas feels his heart skip a beat-

"...they're all gone..."

Blinking away the curious notion of wanting to punch himself in the face, Thomas could hear the group of actors standing outside scratch against the wooden attic door, and he took that as his cue to push the painting upward at an angle to let his own zombies through, each of them filing past him as he held the painting in place.

They shuffled into the room, getting into the spirit of things when they saw their prey. As the last of them entered the attic, Thomas heard Marie Claire gasp, "Who's there?!"

Her cell phone's flashlight came to life just in time to illuminate the zombies headed towards her, and he heard her express regret as her classmates Bianca, Lance, and Jennie threatening walked towards her – and her regret turned into abject despair as her closest friends, Ethan and Addison, came into view.

Resisting until the end, she scrambled backwards, her back touching the benched as her hands moved this way and that, trying to fend off the zombie horde while at the same time attempting to find anything she could use as a weapon.

He couldn't help but compare her calculatingly determined self earlier who wanted to save him to the young woman now pleading not for her to be spared, but for her friends to forgive her.

It's her own life on the line now. Why isn't she acting like she was before?

"Ethan... Addison... I... I tried to save you! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

As the zombies from the wall approached, and as the zombies at the door forced their way inside, he could see Marie Claire curl up into a tiny ball and close her eyes, waiting for the inevitable end...

...when Thomas' clear voice rang throughout the attic.

"It's over, Marie Claire... you were smart, you did everything you could... but now, there is no escape."

"Wait..." She opened her eyes. "Professor Hunt?"

Thomas nodded, and then realized that she probably couldn't see him. He flipped on a light switch, and the attic was suddenly filled with bright, white light. The zombies parted to reveal him. He walked over to Marie Claire.

"Now, Marie Claire, you have known true fear. The lesson is over."

Looking at him as if she couldn't believe he was actually alive, she gaped at him. "You! But... but you got eaten!"

Thomas regarded his student, who, until just a few moments ago, had believed herself to be the last survivor amongst her classmates and her friends. He extended his arm, his hand lightly grasping hers as he helped pull her to her feet.

Once upright, she let go of his hand to quickly brush herself off before asking him, "Did you really have to make us think that zombies walked the earth?"

"Some lessons," he told her, "cannot be taught, only lived. Now come along, the rest of your classmates are waiting downstairs and they're growing restless..."

He smirked to himself when Marie Claire, still wary that he might turn her into a zombie while her guard was down, made him walk five steps in front of her as they made their way down to the others.

As his students caught up with each other, Thomas spoke with the actors, praising them for their convincing portrayal of the undead and thanking them for their hard work. When his students had settled down, he gave them hints about what some of his future lessons would be like before dismissing them to go home. Right after, the head make-up artist tapped him on the shoulder to ask a question, and by the time he finished answering, as well as commending all the make-up artists for their considerable skill, all of his students, including Marie Claire, were gone.

Later that night, once everything had been packed up, and he had finalized certain details with the hired cast and crew of his Fear 101 lesson, and he had settled into his bedroom desk and opened his journal, he looked at the blank space on the latest page.

Before, he thought he would write a detailed account of the lesson, including the fact that he had accomplished his lesson's main, if hidden goal, which was to teach Marie Claire fear after her recklessness with the tank only three days ago, but after picking up his pen, he only wrote a single sentence.

"After mourning her two closest and dearest friends, she said my name."

He closed his journal after that, his mind wandering to the many notable incidents that had occurred that evening – he made a mental note to never attempt to eat Addison Sinclair's brains under any circumstances – even as part of his heart wondered why his troublemaker had seemed so desperate to save him.

(End of Chapter Twenty-One.) (04/09/16.)

01. Canon compliance:

The HWU quests that took place in this chapter were Her Steel Heart (L11.1); Crash Landing (L11.2); Fear 101 (Day 01 of 01) (Part II of II); and Diva and Conquer (Day 05 of 07).

02. A tiny request:

Thank you for reading my fanfic! :D If you've read this far, I hope you'll consider taking an extra minute to leave a review for Chapter Twenty-One ("Learning Fear")? :D Reviews really mean a lot to me as a fanfiction writer because I get to hear your thoughts on something I worked really hard on ^_^ Even if it's the year 2075 or something, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! :D

03. Two interesting HWU things:

One, the HWU online television series! :D Did you know that a fellow HWU fan, Zoe (her username on Tumblr is "dizzyclueless"), is diligently working on HWU: The Series? It's a fan-made online television series based on Thomas Hunt and other characters from Hollywood U! ^_^ (At the moment, I'm just a very enthusiastic supporter... but I would LOVE to be involved in HWU: The Series someday! :D) You can find out more about this AMAZING television project on Tumblr (their official Tumblr blog is "hwutheseries"). I just LOVE how Pixelberry and Hollywood U have inspired SO many of us fans! ^_^

And two, my second HWU fanfic! :D If you're interested in reading Marie Claire's perspective of this chapter (Chapter Twenty-One), then I encourage you to read "NYTMC 2: Marie Claire's Interlude" ^_^ Here's the summary: "(Part two of the NYTMC series.) (Midquel.) How did Marie Claire Hart fall in love with her most dashing, yet most cantankerous, professor? A retelling of my MC/Hunt fanfic "NYTMC 1: Not Your Typical Meet-Cute" from Marie Claire's perspective, in 100-word drabbles."