Logan was a typical adolescent; nothing about this sixteen-year-old boy particularly stood out.
Nothing about him was unique, not the straight hair that fell to his shoulders and constantly covered one of his eyes or the beanie he wore to keep a few strands of his rich chocolate brown hair in place, hiding a portion of his face from the rest of the world.
Certainly not the dull-colored hoodies he alternated when one of them got dirty, and most definitely not the faded denim jeans he chose from the limited selection in his closet.
Logan used this image every day to represent who he was—a loner who enjoyed leading a solitary existence. Away from people and any situations that could trigger sentimentality.
Logan had had enough of this one specific feeling; if his parents' early divorce hadn't left a lasting impression, it had to have been leaving behind a close friend with whom he had spent more than half of his brief life growing up, only to re-meet as strangers.
That certainly couldn't be the cause, could it?
Perhaps it was the unintentional death of his eight-year-old dog, who raced out of the house to welcome him after school, only to be hit by a car.
The youngster was therefore sick of it—relationships that only resulted in unhappiness, the anguish of losing something dear, the anxiety of losing what you still have, the pity of knowing you have no control over anything, and eventually, the loneliness.
This cycle made Logan into the person he is today—a young boy who stands outside his classroom and peers out a window towards the athletic fields, where a forest stretches far beyond the reach of the eye.
This particular morning was dominated by a gloomy cloud that stained the sky with drab shades of gray, creating the ideal representation of a typical autumn day. The yellow and orange of withering trees pervaded the fields and woodland, making the cold morning breezes feel much chillier than they should.
However, none of this could be savored as the first morning bell rang, warning the youngsters to hurry to class.
Logan didn't move from his spot, though.
Instead, he turned up the volume on his phone to drown out the noises of the rushing children making their way to their classroom, the deep bass popping through his headphones.
The boy remained still while gazing through the huge rectangular glass window.
After a while, he realized he had to get ready. He took several deep breaths, perhaps trying to take in the fresh air that was only present in his field of vision.
Five minutes had passed since the first bell, and now the second warning bell rang. It was time for him to start moving as his surroundings were now empty, void of all the students who had been standing around just a few minutes ago.
The only sounds present in the long school hall were the squeaking sneakers of someone running at a distance and a random teacher yelling about.
Logan didn't need to worry, though, because, without any interruptions, he had thirty seconds to get from where he was standing to his seat.
Naturally, he had acquired this information through repetition, and today was no different.
Just as the final bell rang, he managed to make it to his seat barely in time.
The moment had come for him to forfeit his freedom, and he ran to get seated as swiftly as possible.
Ms. Claire, the teacher, gave him a quick glare but decided not to stop him as he entered the class,
It wasn't long before the teacher, who had been standing by the door, quickly glanced outside and shut it.
She cleared her throat softly, then looked around to ensure no one was missing. Picking up her clipboard, she began calling out names and taking attendance.
Before that, however, she offered everyone a friendly greeting.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm delighted to see that no one is running late. So before we start today's lecture, let's take a quick roll call." Ms. Claire began the class as usual, flashing a bright smile that caught the attention of many of the boys.
While waiting for his name to be called, Logan began to reflect on his teacher's excited and sincere demeanor; she was truly ready to start the day, unlike him.
He recalled that initially, she had a difficult time managing a class full of teenagers because she was one of the school's youngest lecturers. However, after a few months into the new semester, the students began to accept and respect her.
"Logan... Logan!" Finally, Logan heard the teacher shouting his name, and with each repetition, the voice grew louder.
The boy, whose head was drooping and who was on the verge of dozing off, lifted his head from his crossed arms, which made for a comfortable pillow. He had completely forgotten about the roll call ordeal.
"Present!" Logan cleared his throat, trying to sound inattentive.
This didn't fool the teacher, who once again glared at him for a few seconds, causing a few of his classmates to snicker.
"Logan, if you don't sit up, you'll fall asleep," the teacher tapped her pen as she awaited his response.
"Yes, ma'am!" Logan yelled out, trying to protect himself from any further damage to his reputation from this incident.
The young teacher gave Logan one last severe look before getting back to calling names from her notebook.
Although the shame he felt likely played a role, Logan didn't have any trouble staying awake for the remainder of the morning.
The surge of heat that rushed into his neck and back didn't seem to settle, though.
Logan let out a heavy sigh and scanned the room to forget what had just happened.
A girl seated a few rows in front of him caught his wandering glance.
It was Lisa—with her beautifully contoured features—that caught Logan's eye, or at least he thought so. Her long, light ash-brown hair, touched with hints of gold, was neatly swept up into a bun. Thin brows framed her deep-set, exquisitely shaped hazel eyes.
A small snub nose and glossy, petite red lips completed her look, each detail lightly accentuated by a subtle layer of makeup.
Lisa was someone the youngster had known well in the past, but now she was a stranger to him.
At the start of the school year, they had shared only a handful of brief interactions, none of which gave Logan the impression that she genuinely wanted to talk to him. Besides, what reason would the class beauty have to notice him now? He was a shadow of who he used to be, stuck at the bottom of the school's social ladder.
Lost in thought, Logan found himself reflecting on the class as a whole. His mind soon drifted to the seven students who stood out—either for their popularity or simply for being different.
Aside from Lisa, who was widely acknowledged as beautiful, her close friend Alma wasn't far behind in looks. Sitting beside her, Alma was quietly focused on her nails, tending to them with care.
She couldn't paint them in class, but she enjoyed using an odd heart-shaped nail file when she was bored. Alma was tall and curvy, exuding a model-like aura at all times. No one knew the color of her natural hair, although it was currently blonde with pink tips. She always meticulously applied just the right amount of cosmetics.
The cherry on top of all of this was her fortune of possessing an attractive face. Her mother allegedly worked as a professional stylist, which would account for her impeccable sense of fashion.
Logan didn't think much of this particular girl, though, but he did include her in his mental list of the class's top seven distinctive individuals.
Logan then turned his attention to the front, where three boys were grinning and casting shady glances at the teacher as he considered the other members of the unique group of classmates.
The trio, which he liked to refer to as "the three stooges," always bothered Logan for some reason. It wasn't severe enough for him to call for assistance or anything of the sort, but he didn't exactly understand why they kept targeting him.
They were merely isolated instances of mild bullying, and if he called them out, they would probably only receive minor punishment, like detention for their impolite behavior. The situation would probably even get worse, so Logan chose to ignore them.
The leader of these three was Brian, a clever and fit individual who excelled at whatever he did and never paid attention to people he considered beneath him. It wasn't difficult to comprehend why girls would struggle for his attention. A hunk who was well-built and had every good quality you could imagine—well, that is everything except his personality.
However, even Logan had to admit that he was a little envious of the guy. The other two, Jonathan and George, were always by Brian's side, both undoubtedly having joined every single sports club in the school. The pair were tall, attractive, and all that.
To rid himself of the bitterness welling up inside, Logan suddenly felt the impulse to spit to the side.
His attention shifted to Silvia, a small girl who stood out in her own way, quietly seated in the corner of the front row. She was reserved, academically gifted, and fiercely determined to become the top student in class.
Though she hadn't yet developed a mature figure, she clearly enjoyed the teacher's attention. Logan had never spoken to her directly, so he couldn't say much else—only that she had a rare shade of brownish-silver hair and striking grayish-amber eyes, partially hidden behind her glasses.
The last of the seven wasn't a student at all, but their teacher, Ms. Claire, who was currently handing out papers. She was the only adult in the room and, by any standard, a striking woman in her early to mid-twenties. Her mature figure drew the admiration of nearly every boy in class, and to many, she was seen as the ultimate unattainable—an alluring presence far beyond their reach.
Ms. Claire was also the ideal form that many girls aspired to be when they became adults—always prim and proper, punctual, and fun to talk to at times.
"Logan, it's nice to see you're no longer sleepy. I'll need your complete attention on this quiz, so stay with us." Ms. Claire leaned in and appeared to whisper in his ear. When Logan looked up to see the stare she was giving him, it alone was enough to make him raise his chin even higher.
Logan didn't respond and continued to nod. It didn't last long since she quickly smiled slyly in Logan's direct line of sight.
As he grew to know his teacher, he became aware of a minor flaw—she skillfully concealed a sadistic personality, and of course, he always managed to make a mistake that brought it out. While sighing and going over the test, a blue light appeared in front of the class.
At first, everyone thought it was a prank— someone randomly pointing a concentrated beam of blue light, like a powerful laser, fixed on a single spot in the classroom. But within seconds, more lights began to appear, scattered across the room and forming a glowing ring that encircled all the students.
No one reacted. They were too stunned, too mesmerized by what was happening. It all unfolded so fast that there was no time to move, no chance to respond.
All they could do is cry out but even that was being suppressed.
More lights flickered into existence, and the pattern began to shift—forming a star at the center of the massive circle which resembled a magic array. Strange symbols followed, glowing in alternating shades of green, blue, and red, pulsing with an otherworldly rhythm. Barely ten seconds had passed when a second, larger ring appeared along the perimeter—and that's when everything changed.
A sudden pressure pressed down on everyone, as if the world had lifted them 50 meters from the ground. But instead of sending them flying, their bodies were locked in place. It felt as though gravity had doubled, pinning them to the ground as the strange array slowly began to rotate clockwise.
Like the rest, Logan couldn't move—but he clenched his jaw and gripped the edge of his desk tightly, bracing himself as the impossible unfolded around him.
Logan failed to even cry out for help as he attempted to look around the room, feeling as if he were falling. The class fell silent as the light show seemed to absorb all sounds and colors that had surrounded them just moments earlier.
A black shadow began devouring everything outside the large outer circle. The doors, windows, and walls started to warp, and eventually, there was no light left.