u may notice something physically impossible in here

The room was a pitch black, save for a bright line down low where the door met the floor, midday light creeping in a few inches, illuminating scuffed pinewood slats. It was nearly dead silent, the air mostly undisturbed by vibrations, save for the sound of a ticking clock outside and his own shallow breathing, the faraway vocalizations of the other students long since faded. His face was blank as he stared at the door.

It'd happened again. He'd planned an escape this time, the fastest route he could think of, but they'd caught him anyway. Eider was waiting for him. He tried to stop them- "go for the liver!", like Lynx said- but it didn't matter. One of him versus five of them? Right. Even if he knew where to aim a punch, it wasn't like he had a chance to throw one.

He felt his cheek, wincing. Alpine definitely hadn't held back today. His head was still a little foggy.

Sigh.

A few minutes of imagining the big blue lump already growing on his face later, he put a claw on the doorknob and turned. Locked.

He clicked his tongue. That jerk. He locked the door? Where'd he even get the key? Thieving asshole.

He knocked on the door. "Hello? Anyone out there?"

No response.

Again he knocked on the door, a little louder this time. "Hello?! Hey! If there's someone out there I would really appreciate it if you could unlock this door for me!" Still no response.

He scowled.

"HEY!" The door shook as he slammed his fists against it. "SOMEONE IN THE DAMN BROOM CLOSET OVER HERE! LET ME OUT!"

Silence.

"Dammit!" Stabbingpain shot through his fist as he punched the door. "Isn't anyone still here?! Shit!"

His shoulders bobbed up and down with his breaths as he stood in the dark, seething with rage.

Whatever. He hadn't wanted to do this, but if this was how things were gonna be… oh well.

He put his claws against the door, leaning on it.

It didn't budge.

He pushed a little harder. It still didn't so much as creak.

He undid the clips of his book bag, letting it slide off his back to the floor. He kicked it to the side, moving to the back of the closet. Objects unseen dug into his back as he stood against shelves, a claw resting on the edge of one.

He took a deep breath, and launched himself at the door.

His shoulder impacted first, followed by the rest of him, eliciting a pained grunt. This time the door did creak, rattling on its hinges a little.

He stared at it for a moment, then retook his place at the back of the closet. Threw himself at it again.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, doing it again. "Come on!" Again. "Come on!" Again.

"COME ON, DAMMIT! JUST MOVE ALREADY!" For the 5th time he launched himself at it, like the dragon cannonball, only to be left sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain. At first he thought he might be making progress, but it was quickly becoming clear that was just his imagination. He could throw himself at this thing all day, it wasn't moving an inch.

He felt along the doorjamb. What felt like small cylinders protruded from it- bingo. Just like he hoped, the hinges were on the inside. If the janitor keeps his tools in here… His heart leapt in his chest.

He searched the shelves for a toolbox, only able to identify things by touch.

Various objects and textures ran under his talons- big objects, small objects. Hard objects, soft objects, dry and- shiver- not-so-dry objects. At one point he put a claw on something only for it to sink right into it, his talons coming back covered in some sort of sticky goo that smelled weird. He felt for one of the soft objects, wiping the substance off on it, cursing, desperately hoping it was just paint or something.

Finally he found what he was looking for. Yes! He quickly pulled the toolbox off the shelf, the metallic clattering coming from inside it as he dropped it on the ground like music to his ears. I knew it would be in here! Thank you, Great Ice Dragon, for answering my prayers! Thank you!

He dug around inside it. Lessee, t-square, wrench- the hell is this thing? Whatever. No, no, no, no… yes! Flat head screwdriver! Here we go!

He turned his attention back to the door's hinges, focusing on the one at the bottom. He felt for a small gap at the top, between the mushroom-head of the pin and its sleeve, squeezing the tip of the screwdriver into it with shaking talons. It was kind of cool- felt like he was infiltrating the enemy stronghold or laughed a little, his heart pounding at the fact he might actually be able to get out of here. If circumstances weren't what they were he might actually have found this fun.

Soon, the screwdriver was seated properly- as properly as it could be, anyway. Ok, here goes nothing… Taking a deep breath, and praying to the Great Ice Dragon that this would work, he pushed down on the other end, putting all of his weight on it.

The pin shifted a little.

Yes! It's working! His stomach did a little flip. I might actually get out of here! Hoooly crap, I can't wait to see the look on Alpine's face when I show up for-

SNAP!

PING!

His body jolted. He nearly ran into the shelf in front of him. The tip of the screwdriver bounced off the floorboards, invisible until it rolled into the light peeking in from under the door.

-evening… formation…

He picked up the piece of the screwdriver that lay on the floor, feeling the spot on the other part where it would have gone with his thumb. He could feel his thumb getting dust on it, and though the part where it had broken was smooth, both were roughish and grimy everywhere else.

Ah. Of course it had broken. Thing was rusted to shit.

He sighed long through his nose, blinking into the darkness.

"DAMMIT!" The remains of the screwdriver launching off somewhere as he hurled it, not caring what happened to it now. "DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT! FUCK!" He banged on the door, kicked at it. Searched the shelves again, looking for something, anything he could use, always coming up empty clawed, knocking things off indiscriminately now, grabbing the shelving itself by the frame and pulling it down. An avalanche of shit came with it, pelting him, making a huge racket, getting all sorts of smelly, gross substances on him, but it didn't matter. Who cared? Not him. He was just angry, so angry. Who cared if he got in trouble. He needed to destroy something, now.

He stood in the darkness, surrounded by collapsed shelving units and shit, breathing heavily. He was bruised, cut, wet, and stinky. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, least of all what happened to him or how he felt about it.

His legs slowly folded underneath him, his butt lowering to the floor, right in a puddle. Cold wetness budded at the corners of his eyes, sliding down his cheeks.

It was just the chemicals. The stench of them was making his nose burn.

•••

He flung open the door. Nothing.

"Winter?"

He flung open another door. Still nothing.

"Winter!"

He checked the classrooms. He checked the boys' bathroom… and the girls'. He even checked the study rooms, on the off chance Winter decided to skip formation in favor of staying behind to study. In every place he found no sign of his little brother.

"I swear I'm gonna kill them. I'm gonna wring their necks!"

He laughed, a little nervously.

"Relax, Lynx. You don't know that they had anything to do with this-"

"No! I do! I do know! They tease him every day! It has to be them!" Lynx hissed, puffs of frost breath pouring out from between her teeth. "I waited for him right up to last call and he never came out! I don't know what they did to him but as soon as I find out I swear I'm gonna do it a hundred times worse-"

"Alright, alright, I get it! I believe you!" He wrapped a wing around her, squeezing her, trying to calm the bristling female, to no avail. "If it makes you happy, I'll do it with you- but only if it does end up being their fault."

"Good," She grunted, flames dancing in her violet eyes. "I hope you're not squeamish."

"Me? No," he replied. "…I am allergic to chocolate, though."

If looks could kill, he would have been dead right then.

"Hailstorm…"

"JOKING! Joking!"

Then, as they were coming down the stairs to the 4th floor, they heard it.

Down, way down at the end of the hall- a voice.

"…Didn't we check down there?" He looked to Lynx, brow furrowing.

She didn't answer, sweeping past him instead.

As they got closer, the voice got louder- and clearer. Crying. Hailstorm thought, his heart dropping. They're crying.

It was loudest directly in front of the door at the very end. A broom closet.

"Hailstorm!"

He blinked. Lynx was pulling on the door handle.

"It's locked! Help me with this!"

"R-Right. Right. Here, uh, lemme get in there." He gently pushed her out of the way. Lynx was stout, but she was still only a 4 year old female. They would be more successful with him; tall, dark, handsome Hailstorm.

Alright, time for that weight training Instructor Beluga put us through to pay off… He tightened his grip, took a deep breath, and pulled. "GRRRAH!"

With a squeal and a snap, the door flew open. Hailstorm flew back, crashing into the opposite wall and slumping to the floor. "Ow-ow-owww… huh?"

Just as they thought, there was a dragon in there. It didn't matter how many layers of paint and chemicals they were covered in, he'd recognize that face anywhere. "…H-Hailstorm…?" Winter muttered, his eyes widening in recognition.

Hailstorm gaped. Lynx grit her teeth, tail lashing.

"W-Winter…?" He started to get up. "Great blustering blizzards, what happened-"

Winter didn't respond, instead launching himself at his older brother.

Hailstorm was speechless. He slowly wrapped his arms around his little brother, his shaking and sniffling renewing, doubly this time.

He looked at Lynx.

"Told you," she hissed, tears brimming in her eyes. "Winter would never miss formation."

He looked away, his face falling. I should've had more faith in him, like her.

I'm sorry, Winter.

"It's ok," Hailstorm muttered. "You're ok. I've got you. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore."