Page 15

I jolted awake, my breath hitching, my heart still hammering from the dream.

For a second, I just sat there, clutching my tablet like it was some kind of life raft, my brain struggling to separate reality from whatever the hell just happened in my subconscious. My eyes darted around. No eerie silence. No glowing eyes. No imminent soul-snatching.

Just… the usual mayhem.

Max and the jocks were being loud at the back, probably exchanging brain-cell-deficient jokes. Joy was leaning against the window, looking half-asleep. Shun was scrolling through her phone, unimpressed as ever. Mr. Dax was asleep (his hobby).

And Ethan—

Ethan wasn’t even paying attention to me.

He was turned away, laughing at something Max had said, completely oblivious to the fact that Dream Ethan had just nearly ripped my soul apart.

1,2,3,4—breathe.

I exhaled slowly. Okay. Cool. Everything's fine. Totally fine.

Except—

Ethan must have noticed the way I jolted awake, because he turned, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"You good?" he asked.

I panicked.

And by panicked, I mean I froze .

My brain went into full shutdown mode, my social anxiety hitting me like a brick to the face. I felt my palms go clammy. My mouth opened—then closed—then opened again, like some kind of malfunctioning goldfish.

Think, Clark. Say something normal. Be normal .

"...Yeah," I finally croaked.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "You sure? You looked like you just saw a ghost."

Technically, I looked like a ghost, but now was not the time.

"I'm fine," I mumbled quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Ethan didn’t look convinced. "Huh." He tilted his head. "You always wake up that dramatically, or was that a one-time performance?"

I let out the most awkward, wheezy chuckle known to mankind. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Yeah. Uh. Happens all the time. No big deal."

Ethan just stared at me.

I shrank into my seat. Please stop looking at me. Please stop looking at me.

Joy, who had apparently been awake this whole time, peeked over from her seat. "Clark, are you—" She paused, taking in my expression. "Oh my God. You're malfunctioning."

"I am not malfunctioning," I said, voice cracking in betrayal.

She turned to Ethan. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Ethan said, raising his hands innocently and somehow melodramatically. "He woke up, panicked, and then started acting really weird."

"Clark is always acting weird."

“Extra weird,” Ethan added.

Shun finally looked up from her phone. "Maybe he had a nightmare."

"I did not have a nightmare," I lied, shifting uncomfortably.

Joy smirked. "Right. And I'm a professional ballerina."

"Look," I muttered, rubbing my face. "Can we just—not talk about it?"

"Whatever you say, Ghost Boy," Ethan said, smirking before turning back to the jocks.

I sighed, sinking deeper into my seat.

Great. Now I had a nickname.

A while later, the bus rumbled to a stop, and I peered out the window, expecting—honestly, I don’t know—just a regular park with some trees, maybe a few birds.

I hadn't meticulously researched this place, but its website had lots of five stars rankings and hundreds of recommendations for nature retreats.

Instead, an elf stood at the entrance, arms crossed, his long ears twitching as he surveyed our bus with an expression that screamed, ugh, tourists.

"Whoa," Shun muttered. "Did we just unlock a side quest?"

Max, ever the jock, squinted at the elf. "Dude, is that guy wearing a cape?"

Joy sighed. "Max, it’s called a cloak. Ever heard of fashion?"

"Yeah," Ethan snickered, "it’s what people wear when they don’t live in gym clothes."

Max gasped. "Are you calling my tank tops uncultured?"

"No, Max," Joy said. "We’re calling you uncultured."

Mr. Dax groaned from the front. "Get off the bus before I mark you all absent."

That got us moving.

As we stepped out, the elf glanced at us with the tired expression of a man who had probably dealt with too many clueless high schoolers.

"Welcome," he said in the most bored voice I’d ever heard. "To the Enchanted Park of Aislad. May your journey be… meaningful."

Then he just stepped aside, clearly done with us already.

"Wow," I whispered. "What an inspiring welcome speech. I feel changed."

Joy nudged me. "Bet he moonlights as a motivational speaker."

We walked past the gate, and that’s when the world changed.

The trees weren’t just trees—they shimmered with golden leaves that occasionally floated upward instead of falling down. The air smelled different, like honey and something ancient, something magical. The sky was brighter, like it had been buffed and polished just for us.

And then the creatures started appearing.

A pair of griffins lounged near a pond, one lazily sharpening its claws on a rock while the other fluffed its feathers like it was getting ready for a magazine cover.

A serpent with butterfly wings coiled around a tree branch, its violet eyes glowing as it studied us like we were a mildly interesting documentary.

A fox with nine tails yawned lazily, its tails flickering like candle flames before it disappeared into thin air, because of course it could do that.

"Alright, let's get this right," I announced, pulling out my tablet as Mia set up the camera. "This is an enchanted park, home to some of the rarest magical creatures in existence. Over there, we have—"

Joy elbowed me. "Clark, please don’t start info-dumping before I’ve had my morning coffee."

"You literally never drink coffee."

"Because I refuse to rely on capitalist bean juice to function," she said.

I sighed. "Anyway, as I was saying—"

And that’s when we saw it.

Not just it.

Them.

A group of bunnies.

Levitating.

Majestic.

Fluffy.

My soul left my body.

The floating bunnies drifted through the air like they owned the place, little paws dangling, ears twitching in slow motion. Their fluffy fur sparkled under the enchanted sunlight, and they blinked at us with big, otherworldly eyes.

I swallowed hard.

Ethan turned to me.

He grinned.

I knew exactly why he was grinning.

Because one of those —those fluffy, floating demons—was the reason all of this was happening in the first place.

The car accident. Ethan's detentions. The stupid room-sharing situation.

It all started with one levitating bunny.

And now?

There were dozens of them.

I took a step back. "No."

Ethan’s grin widened. "Yes."

Shun tilted her head. "Wait. Aren't these the same bunnies that—?"

"YES, SHUN, THEY ARE."

Max, oblivious as always, stepped forward. "Yo, floating rabbits? That's kinda sick."

"Max, don't encourage them!" I hissed.

One of the bunnies twitched its nose and gracefully floated closer.

I tensed.

Ethan leaned in, smirking. "Go on, Ghost boy. Say hi."

"Absolutely not," I whispered.

The bunny stopped in front of me. We locked eyes.

The wind rustled.

A single, intense moment passed between us.

And then—

The bunny booped me.

Right on the nose.

I nearly died.

Ethan lost it.

Max clapped. "Dude, you just got chosen by the Bunny Council or something."

Joy wiped a fake tear. "A historic moment. I’ll cherish this forever."

Shun took a picture.

I closed my eyes. "This is my villain origin story."

And it wasn’t over.

The bunny, clearly encouraged by my existential suffering, did a little spin in the air, and then—booped me again.

Ethan was wheezing.

"You guys don’t get it," I hissed. "This isn’t cute. This is a personal attack."

"Clark," Joy said solemnly, "it’s a bunny."

"A levitating bunny! Do you not see the problem here?"

Shun scrolled through her phone. "So, just checking, are we fighting the bunnies, or…?"

Max cracked his knuckles. "I mean, I could take one."

I threw my hands up. "Max, you cannot fight a bunny!"

"Not with that attitude."

The bunnies continued to float, eyes twinkling like they knew. Like they remembered.

Ethan wrapped an arm around my shoulder, grinning like the demon he was. "So, Ghost boy. How’s it feel knowing the universe is sending you a sign?"

I looked at the bunnies—an ultimate betrayal of nature.

I looked at Ethan. That sardonic smile.

I looked back at the bunnies.

Then, slowly, I removed Ethan’s arm from my shoulder.

I watched them, and then, I strode after them.

Mia called after me. "Clark? Where are you going?"

"To make peace with my gods," I said.

Ethan snorted. "You mean your floating rodents?"

I didn’t dignify that with an answer.

Because deep down, I knew.

I had lost.

The bunnies had won. And they were not getting away with it.