Sara's POV
I flipped my hair and took a confident step into the classroom. All eyes turned to me, of course. I mean, how could they not?
(Yes, yes. I'm Sara Debeu. Cutest girl in Humboldt Creek Middle. Deal with it.)
I did my signature walk—shoulders back, chin up, a smile that could melt plastic—and glided over to my seat near the window.
And that's when I saw them.
Harry Frees and Lily Croft, the power duo of social brilliance, laughing at something that Tyler Foster—that weird geek guy—was saying.
(Ugh. Why him?)
Harry had charm. Lily had presence. And Tyler… had a backpack that looked like it ate books for breakfast. What even was he?
I narrowed my eyes. Something was… off about him. Like when the lights flicker before a power outage.
He turned toward me, and I instantly looked away, pretending I hadn't been staring.
(Nope. Not giving him the satisfaction.)
I pulled out my glittery notebook and flipped it open with flair. But in the corner of my eye, I swear I saw Tyler… smirk.
(What? No. Weirdos don't smirk. That's a Harry thing. Tyler's supposed to trip over his shoelaces, not look smug.)
Lily waved at me, breaking my dramatic thoughts.
"Hey, Sara! You coming to the music room after school?"
I hesitated, then nodded coolly.
"Yeah, totally. Don't wanna miss watching Tyler, butcher another piano solo."
Harry dramatically clutched his chest.
"Cruel. Savage. Accurate."
Then Tyler laughed.
(…Okay. Maybe that laugh wasn't the worst sound in the world. Whatever.)
…
Meanwhile… Back in the Subway Tunnel
The bald man ran his scarred hand along the cracked concrete wall of the abandoned subway tunnel. He paused, dramatically, as a droplet of water dripped from the ceiling and landed on his bald head.
He sighed.
"Once we take her, we get the money. We finally get the freaking money..Kukuku—"
He burst into a raspy laugh that sounded more like someone choking on a potato chip.
Fox-mask, the self-declared "strategist" of the group, tilted his head.
"Wait. Are you sure her dad's gonna pay? He's a school principal, not the CEO of Amazon."
The bald man turned around slowly.
"You think he's just a principal? That school has vending machines. Full. Of. Snacks."
Dog-mask chimed in, confused:
"So… we're doing all this for vending machine money?"
"No, idiot." The bald man rubbed his temples. "Because she's his daughter! Daughters are expensive! They probably got life insurance or something."
Lizard-mask nodded solemnly like he understood money.
"True. My cousin's daughter has braces. Costs like a car every month."
Bear-mask, who hadn't spoken in 15 minutes, finally growled:
"Why not just rob a bank?"
The bald man glared.
"Because banks have security. The school has one old security guard who eats pudding cups and watches some girls all day. You want to tangle with lasers and vault doors? Or a guy named Carl with back problems?"
Fox-mask leaned forward.
"But what if we mess this up and she escapes or fights back or, I don't know, karate kicks us in the face?"
The bald man looked at him dead serious.
"She's 14. If any of you get beat up by a middle schooler, I'm leaving you behind."
They all nodded in shameful agreement.
Dog-mask raised a hand hesitantly.
"Uh, boss, just double-checking… we are just gonna grab her, call the dad, and ask for, like, what… twenty bucks?"
The bald man froze.
"…Twenty? No. We're asking for ten thousand. Maybe even fifteen. She's got nice hair. That's worth extra."
Lizard-mask looked down at a crumpled notepad.
"Wait, wait. Do we even have the right phone number? This thing says 'Pizza Hut.'"
The bald man screamed into his hands.
..
Back at Humboldt Creek Middle School… After Class
Sara's POV
Okay. Not normal.
There are three grown men across the street, and one of them is literally wearing a dog mask. Like, full-on party city style, except not funny. Creepy.
I hugged my designer backpack closer.
The hoodie guy in front held a clipboard and tried to act casual, like he was delivering a pizza. Except… there was no pizza. Just a clipboard and very suspicious sneakers. Like, dude. Crocs? Really? You're gonna kidnap someone in Crocs?
I stepped back, casually. Casually. Like I wasn't already running through every true crime episode I'd ever half-watched with Mom.
Then a van pulled up. A white van. Unmarked.
Okay. Nope. I don't care if that van has free iPods, puppies, or Zac Efron in the back—I'm out.
I turned around.
That's when I heard it—
"HELLO YOUNG LADY WOULD YOU LIKE A PIZZA COUPON?"
What.
What??
I spun around. The guy with the clipboard (Fox-mask, I realized) was walking toward me now, arms raised like I was a wild animal about to bolt.
Behind him, Dog-mask was struggling to pull something out of the van—looked like rope. Except it got tangled on the handle and he fell over. Hard.
He screamed:
"MY ANKLE!! AHH—OH WAIT IT'S FINE I THINK—NOPE, IT'S TWISTED—"
The bald guy—the only one without a mask—stormed out of the passenger side.
"GRAB. HER."
He pointed at me like a video game boss.
Okay. Officially not funny anymore.
I whipped out my phone—my pink Motorola Razr, obviously—and started running. Fast. I mean, not Olympic fast, but fast enough that I was already across the street before they realized I wasn't taking their "coupon."
Dog-mask limped after me, yelling something about how his Crocs were not made for terrain. Bald guy was shouting at Fox-mask who tripped over a sewer grate.
Honestly, it was kind of pathetic.
I sprinted into the nearby corner store—Mr. Kapoor's Mini Mart, a local haven of Hot Cheetos and safety—and slammed the door behind me.
"CALL THE COPS!" I gasped at Mr. Kapoor, who was rearranging a shelf of off-brand cola.
He blinked.
"Why? You being followed again?"
I nodded like a bobblehead.
"Three weird guys. One in a dog mask. One with Crocs. One angry bald man with possibly rabies."
He didn't even hesitate.
"Second time this week," he muttered, picking up the landline and calmly dialing 9-1-1 like this was his Tuesday routine.
Outside, I saw the van speed off—Dog-mask barely made it in, and the sliding door was still half open as they swerved away like bad Mario Kart drivers.
….
Meanwhile… In the Van of Failure
Dog-mask wheezed.
"She's fast. Like a cheetah. With a backpack."
Fox-mask was panicking.
"Why didn't anyone check if she had a phone?! It's 2007! Everyone has a phone now!"
Lizard-mask groaned from the back.
"You told me to bring rope. I brought rope! It's not my fault it got tangled on a fidget spinner!"
The bald man sat in silence, staring out the windshield, muttering:
"Fifteen thousand dollars… slipping through our fingers… because you three couldn't even grab a middle schooler..."
He slapped the dashboard.
"SHE'S Fourteen!!"
Everyone shut up.
…
Back at Humboldt Creek Middle School
Sara sat on the curb now, a Capri Sun in one hand and an ice pack in the other, courtesy of Mr. Kapoor and local police. Her dad had finally arrived, looking panicked and like he aged 10 years in 10 minutes.
"Sara! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad," she said with a tired sigh. "But seriously, you owe me a ride for the rest of the semester."
He nodded like it was a legally binding contract.
Harry and Lily came jogging over too, out of breath and red-faced.
"We saw police tape and ran," Lily said, eyes wide. "Did someone try to kidnap you?"
"Yeah," Sara said with a flip of her hair. "And they were really bad at it."
Tyler, a few feet behind them, peeked out from behind a tree, clutching a half-formed slime ball and whispering to himself:
"I knew something was off with that dog mask. Slime senses never lie…"
….
Meanwhile the leaves rustled softly above Tyler's head as he crouched behind the scrawny maple tree that barely hid his frame.
Something clicked inside Tyler's brain.
Something… unhinged.
He gripped the slime ball tighter.
Then inside Tyler brain
..
Tyler's Inner Monologue
Location: Behind the Tree, Cradling the Sacred Goo
Wait… hold on…
Is this… is this the start of my destiny arc?
His eyes widened.
That girl—Sara Debeu. Fourteen years old. Blond hair. Sparkly lip gloss. Daughter of the school's most powerful administrator…
A classic setup. A heroine in distress. A catalyst. A sign.
Cue wind. (There was no wind.)
The leaves above his head stayed perfectly still, but Tyler imagined a dramatic whoosh as if the universe itself was acknowledging his awakening.
Those guys in weird masks… That wasn't just a random kidnapping.
That was the first move of a global organization.
He narrowed his eyes, slime trembling in his hand.
Probably the mafia. No—worse.
Secret underground dimensional mafia.
He straightened up slightly, just enough that someone across the street could've spotted his clothes twitching like an antenna.
I alone sensed the distortion in reality.
As expected… I'm chosen.
He turned his gaze toward the horizon—technically just the middle school parking lot—and let his imagination wild.
..
Imaginary Cutscene: Rooftop in the Rain
A man in a long coat—collar popped, eyes glowing red with tragic backstory energy—stood silhouetted on a rooftop. Lightning cracked behind him like it was sponsored by a dramatic anime opening.
Mysterious Boss (deep voice):
"You did well, child. But this is only the beginning. You don't even know how the world works."
Then that's when I'll learn… the truth. That people all over the world are awakening… With powers. And then we'll battle. And cry. And become best friends. And then fight again for no reason. And then we'll team up to stop an evil god from awakening beneath a public library in New Jersey.….
….
Now Back to Reality
Tyler's grin split his face.
"Heh… the Omniscript System… you've chosen me because of this, right…"
Slimy the Slime, gave no response. Just a soft jiggle.
"(From this moment forward… I, Tyler Septimus Grimgaze, vow to uncover the truth behind the kidnapping and stop the Interdimensional Mafia, and protect Sara Debeu—whether she likes it or not.)"
To be continue