The door slammed shut. A lock twirled. A padlock put in place.
Insults were levied. Video was taken. Screams from the metal prison.
The deviation from the usual pattern began by everything going to black and white as if seen on a television from the 1950s.
The walls of the school collapsed into dust that faded away on a nonexistent breeze.
The various individuals of the school, well, they found they could hear. They could move their eyes. That was the extent of their ability at the moment.
Out of a wooden door that hung suspended in midair stepped a very good likeness of Rod Serling.
"Winslow High School in the city of Brockton Bay in New Hampshire in the United States of early 21st Century Earth. A place of learning, though substandard even by the standards of that time."
Principal Cynthia Blackwell would have protested if she could move, but she couldn't, so she didn't.
"As in many echoes of this reality, three girls gradually turned up their bullying campaign to attempted murder and what could easily have been bioterrorism charges in a more law-abiding area. All aimed at one person who tried not to fight back, to lower herself to their level. Who, in many realities, broke at this juncture of time and space. So many different outcomes in fact, so many paths of glory and disaster, so many fanfics and alternate takes, that dimensional walls fractured and tore here and now at this one."
The floor and ground under the various students and staff shattered and fell away into unending darkness. Various eyes all stared at the darkness beneath them and really wanted to say something.
"Some people say that Winslow High School is at the corner of Roosevelt Avenue and 16th Street. At this time, in this place, it is at a rather different corner. An intersection that falls entirely within... The Twilight Zone."
Rod Serling went back through the door and closed it. The door vanished.
Color immediately flickered back into existence. So did gravity.
People screamed as they fell into a space and time that was both and neither.
* Spongebob voiceover - Three hours later *
"Director, I'm at the site. Other than three outbuildings there is nothing left. There is a flat-bottomed depression in the ground, circular, that encompasses the entire site of Winslow. Uniform depth of 5.55 feet. No radiation. No explosion. No thermal hotspots. Whatever happened, happened nearly instantly. Witnesses report driving past it and the school was simply not there."
Director Piggot's voice sounded tired. "Keep investigating, Armsmaster. Could it have been some teleporter, possibly a tinker device?"
"I shall continue to investigate. Teleportation might have generated an EMP pulse which could have affected nearby electronics."
"I'll leave you to it then."
* In Meta-time, in a Meta-space *
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" emoted Emma Barnes, falling in a direction that was hard to define because it felt oddly sideways.
"STOP SCREAMING DAMNIT!" Sophia glared at her friend, because screaming was not the behavior of a strong person.
"Was that a square Earth?!" asked Madison.
"Who gives a shit?!" asked Sophia Hess.
"My watch is running backwards," noted Madison.
Sophia blinked and checked her own watch. Madison had one of those old dial-types. She had one of those that let you check heart-rates and such because track coaches could use that kind of stuff nowadays. "It's going forward, but the date's all wrong. Says it's April 1st."
"Mine... AAAAAAAA!" screamed Emma as her watch undid itself and grew little legs. And teeth. Lots of teeth. "AAAAA!"
Sophia swam closer and flicked the watch off into the weirdness around them. "Pull yourself together. Even Madison is handling this better than you!"
"Her watch didn't attack her!"
"We..."
(THWUMP!)
"Ouch," said Madison, having landed on her butt.
Sophia landed on her feet, having noted that despite having been falling for several long minutes - their velocity hadn't felt very high. "What the fuck is this?"
"Why are you asking ME?" replied Emma, getting out her makeup compact and checking herself.
"Wasn't." Sophia checked her surroundings. "I'll bet this is some Uber and Leet shit."
"They've never hit a school before," pointed out Madison as she got up. "Hospitals and schools? The only villains that hit targets like that are the ones that end up with kill orders."
Sophia hmphed. "Stone block walls. Stone block ceiling. Stone block floor. Lighting is from those weird balls of light hanging in the air. Looks like something those two idiots would put together."
A long horrible scream echoed down the corridor.
"Oh, that does not sound good," said Madison, discovering a gift for sarcasm that she previously had not cultivated beyond what she'd previously used in attacking those outside her social circle.
"Definitely some Uber and Leet shit," grumped Sophia.
"Well, I'm not playing," decided Emma, finding a relatively un-grimy section of wall to lean against. "I'm... AAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Having seen the wall pivot and Emma fall into some shaft, Sophia couldn't help but wish that Emma had learned a bit more self-control.
"If this is anything like some videogame..." mused Madison as she stopped the wall from sliding back into place with her purse. "Stats?" Nothing happened. "Display character? There we go."
"There what go?" asked Sophia.
"I have character stats. Strength 7, Dexterity 9, Constitution 10, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 8, Charisma 12." Madison studied a section of empty air near her.
"Display character," tried Sophia. "Huh. Strength 11, Dexterity 13, Constitution 14, Intelligence 8, Wisdom 8, Charisma 10. What the hell is this? What the hell is 'Charisma' and why do I have a lower score than yours?"
"Lots of question marks on that thing," said Madison eventually, "which doesn't sound good. Let's try and find Emma and get out of here."
"First sensible thing I've heard since we locked dipshit in the locker," said Sophia.
* Dungeon of Kath-Karad, Aelmyr *
Greg Veder had immediately come to several conclusions. "We isekai-ed?"
Sparky practically huddled into himself. "Bad trip man. Very bad trip."
"Come on, the worst you've ever done is weed," responded Greg Veder. "Uhm, I don't know you. You're a senior?"
"Rory Ackerman. I'm a senior," said the big guy. "You have any idea what just happened?"
"We're in a three-way intersection, in a dungeon," said Greg Veder confidently. "Just like Dungeons of Dire Doom. You suppose this is some Uber & L33t stuff?"
"No," said Rory. "Uber & Leet don't repeat stuff. They did a dungeon crawl already. Glory Girl busted their hologram projectors rather than play along, remember?"
"Oh yeah," said Greg. "Well, who else would do something like this?"
"New trigger maybe?" asked Rory. "I don't play videogames. Got enough going on in my life not to have that kinda time. What we supposed to do?"
"Stats. Display stat sheet," said Greg Veder. "Hey! That worked!"
Rory did the same thing, with Sparky coming out of his funk long enough to do the same.
"Wisdom 4!" exclaimed Greg Veder. "What the hell is with that score?! Charisma 6?!"
"I've got Wisdom 11 and Charisma 10," said Rory. "I take it that 10 is some of kind of baseline?"
"Yeah, it's average in these kind of scores," grumped Greg. "Based on an old before-computers game. What's the-"
There was a long horrible scream in the distance.
"That didn't sound good," offered Sparky.
"Maybe it was just a programmed sound effect?" offered Greg.
"Don't want to take the chance it isn't," said Rory, moving in the opposite direction that seemed to be where the sound had come from.
"All of my scores are crap," said Greg. "Need to find some way of increasing them."
"Shouldn't we wait here for someone to show up or get us out of here?" asked Sparky.
"Want to bet that whatever made someone scream like that isn't mobile?" asked Rory.
* Cynthia Blackwell *
"What the hell is this?!" asked Cynthia Blackwell as she took in the red sands that stretched in all directions around her. Except that smudge on the horizon.
"How should I know?!" demanded Alice, her secretary still clutching a phone.
Principal Blackwell hmphed. "No signal?"
"No," said the secretary after checking and turning the thing off. "Gonna save the charge."
"Damn it, this has to be some Uber and Leet nonsense," grumbled Principal Blackwell. "Come on then. Sooner we get out of all this sand the better."
* Julia Chambers *
Five girls who had been a party to the bullying but had mainly just followed the lead of the three main bullies.
Five girls who were just hunkered down now and trying to cope with being in some forest somewhere.
"Hellooooo!" said Samantha, yelling. "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!"
"We're stuck in a woods, no phone signal, and the only guy around is useless," said Julia. "Well, this sucks."
"Well, at least we're not falling through layers of infinity anymore," pointed out Susan. "You suppose this is Aleph?"
"Where else could it be?" asked Julia.
"A biotinker's lair?" asked Samantha.
"What makes you think THAT?" scoffed Julia.
"The big lizard over there wearing clothes and warpaint. At a guess," countered Samantha, inclining her head.
"What big..." began Julia, the attitude falling away from her as the one stepped fully out of the foliage. Quickly followed by four more.
"Oh shit," said Susan before fainting dead away.
* Walkabout, Son of Rainwalker *
"What the hell ARE those?" asked Sharpclaw, Daughter of Moondancer.
"They're wearing clothing, of a sorts, clearly able to communicate with whatever weird language they have," offered Walkabout. "Weirdest damn things I've ever seen."
"Well," offered Wisetooth the Elder. "This does explain the ripples in the thaum. They're demons."
"'Demons'?" asked Sharpclaw, gesturing at the scaleless ones. "They look like my little sister could cut them up and make jerky out of them. And she's six summers!"
"That dark one fell down and is sleeping, maybe they're ill?" asked Spiketail. The war veteran frowned and sniffed the air. "They don't smell sick, just plain wrong."
"Not 'demons' as in souleaters," appended Wisetooth. "'Demons' as in someone from another world or universe."
"They smell kind of like spider-rats," offered Spiketail.
"Spider-rats taste horrible," commented Sharpclaw. "I've been hungry enough to eat them, but it isn't something I want to do if there's another alternative."
"It's impolite to eat something that is capable of asking you not to in anything like a polite and intelligible manner," offered Wisetooth.
"I will try to greet them then," said Spiketail, brandishing his spiked tail, then his claws, then made the appropriate gesture to indicate that both were sheathed for the moment.
"Two more just dropped to the ground," observed Walkabout. "I have a feeling they didn't interpret that correctly."
"Communication may be difficult, they lack tails and properly shaped mouths," noted Wisetooth. "They have some artificial scent overlaying their natural scent as well. Maybe they use scents as identifiers? Warpaint on their faces, so maybe novice warriors on their journey?"
"I repeat. My six summers sister could carve them up like strips of meat for jerky," said Sharpclaw.
"Everything's food with you," commented Walkabout. "Let's get them back to the village. Put them in a common cage before they get eaten by some tree-claw or bear-pig."
* Taylor *
"She just landed, clothed like that, covered in... filth."
"Get her cleaned up. Looks like she's in shock - might be some mental attack involved."
"Sleep child. It'll be much better when you awake. I'll fetch a healer."
Taylor felt everything go dark, not knowing she was in:
* a temple of Eilistraee in the Forgotten Realms.
* the Airship Docks in Emeraldis, Aramar.
* the Rock of Bral, Temple of Moradin, Spelljammer.
* a healer's venue in Sigil, Planescape.
* Nicodranus, a city on the Menagerie Coast, Exandria.
* The Ranger's Roost, an Inn in the city of Carver's Cove in the nation of Aelmyr.