Page 2 of Silent Trail

"Are you sure?" Claire hesitated, biting her lip. "It's kind of a long walk from here."

"Of course," Rita said, eager to prove herself useful. "I don't mind at all."

"Okay, so you're going to want to go down this hallway and take the first right," Claire told Rita, gesturing in the direction of a long corridor lined with brightly colored doors. "Follow that until you reach the main atrium. Once you're there, make a left and go past the library. Then, take another left at the end of that hallway. The supply closet is just a few doors down on your right."

"Okay," Rita said slowly, trying to commit the directions to memory.

"Got all that?" There was a note of doubt in Claire's voice.

"I think so. If not, I'll come back."

"Or you'll get lost and never be heard from again."

Rita smiled, though the words sent shivers down her spine. "The college isn't that big."

"You'd be surprised. Now get going!" Claire waved a hand at her. "We really need those decorations before students start arriving."

Rita nodded and set off at a brisk pace, repeating Claire's directions to herself under her breath.

The early morning sun streamed through the large windows, casting warm golden light across the polished floors and freshly painted walls. The college was quiet at this hour, most of its inhabitants still tucked away in bed or just beginning their day. The silence felt both comforting and eerie, as though Rita were exploring an abandoned world.

As she hurried through the campus, Rita marveled at the rows of classrooms and lecture halls, each one representing a new opportunity for growth and learning. She imagined herself sitting in those rooms, absorbing knowledge and working tirelessly toward her goals.

When Rita had followed most of Claire's directions, she reached a dark hallway. The contrast between the brightly lit corridors she'd just left and the gloom that enveloped this stretch of the building was striking, and she felt strangely uneasy.

Had someone forgotten to turn the overhead lights on?

Her fingers brushed along the cold, smooth surface of the wall, searching for a light switch. The darkness seemed to press in on her from all sides as she fumbled blindly. Her heart rate kicked up a notch, and she could feel the dampness of sweat gathering at the nape of her neck.

"Come on," she muttered to herself, frustration mounting. She pulled out her phone, hoping it would provide enough light to help her find the switch or light the hallway ahead of her. The screen, however, gave no more than a faint flicker before giving up the ghost completely—her battery had finally run out. With a resigned sigh, Rita decided she would have to brave the dark hallway without the aid of artificial light.

As she stepped further into the shadows, her thoughts turned to the stories she'd heard whispered around campus—tales of sinister figures lurking in the darkness, waiting to prey on unsuspecting students. She shuddered involuntarily but pushed the fear aside. It was ridiculous to be scared of the dark, especially when there was important work to be done.

With her heart thudding in her ears, Rita quickened her pace, eager to reach the other side of the hallway. The clap of her footsteps provided her with a strange sense of comfort amidst the oppressive gloom.

Finally, she reached the door of the supply closet. Fumbling for the handle, she swung it open to reveal a small, cramped space packed with boxes and miscellaneous supplies. The overhead light flickered to life with an almost imperceptible hum, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

Rita breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the illumination. She scanned the shelves, her eyes darting over stacks of paper, binders, and cleaning supplies before landing on what she'd been searching for—the box of masquerade masks. Grabbing the box, she took one last look around the cluttered closet before stepping back into the dark hallway, a newfound determination propelling her forward.

She trotted through the darkness, all too aware of how long she'd taken to find the closet. Then she picked up the pace even more, hurrying through the building, her mind doing mental gymnastics as she tried to plot her way.

Somehow, she managed to find the conference room again. She burst through the doorway, her breaths coming in heavy pants as she clutched the box. The atmosphere had shifted dramatically since she had left—students now filled the once-empty space, their excited chatter mingling with the rustle of fabric and the scrape of chairs as they prepared for the event.

Claire stood on a stepladder near the front of the room, expertly looping streamers around the ceiling beams. Her lithe form was silhouetted against the morning light filtering through the windows, which bathed her long, dark hair in a golden halo. Rita couldn't help but admire Claire's effortless grace, even in such a mundane task.

"Finally!" Claire called down, hopping off the ladder to face Rita. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry," Rita mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up. "It was a long way."

"Typical freshman," Claire teased, but her tone was gentle. She gestured toward the far corner of the room. "Start hanging those banners over there. We've got to get this place looking festive before everyone arrives."

As Rita dutifully began her task, she felt Claire's eyes on her. Glancing up, she saw her friend frown, her gaze fixed on the floor. "What's wrong?" Rita asked, concern edging into her voice.

"Your footprints," Claire said, pointing at the carpet beneath Rita's sneakers. A trail of red stains marred the otherwise pristine surface.

Puzzled, Rita stared at the stains, wondering how she could have possibly tracked in something so vibrant. As the implications of the crimson marks began to dawn on her, a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

"What in the world did you step in?" Claire asked.

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