it was late; too late to still be at the school, but the papers wouldn’t grade themselves. that’s when you hear it - the telltale sound of metal, clinking up in the vent. something shoots out, flying across the ceiling and shattering all the lights in its wake.
it spins on a dime, it’s long tail lashing behind it as it stalks towards you. you can’t make it out, but what you can tell is that it’s big. and it’s not looking at you; it’s looking through you, - almost like it was sizing up not only you but your soul too - unblinking and eyes aflame. literally and figuratively, they were the only source of light in the now dark classroom
Leon almost jumps out of his skin at the rumbling coming from the ventilation duct. Every light bulb flies off and shatters like Christmas tree ornaments toppled by a cat. He shields his head from the tiny shards of glass and plastic flying from above.
It's murky, except for the fluorescent stars that light up one by one. A few weeks ago, he and the children had taken astronomy, and their classroom had become a star chart. A creature crawling across the ceiling, knocking down light bulbs one by one, gracefully, like a shadow, lands on the floor with astonishing silence. A pair of mirrored eyes glow in the darkness, and a huge tail, larger than the creature itself, floats anxiously in the air. It's the gaze of a predatory cat, but not a killer.
Perhaps this creature is looking at him with the same sense of apprehension that Leon himself feels?
Leon exhales briefly when his eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to make out a silhouette opposite him. This humanoid creature stands on two straight legs, slightly hunched over, like a cornered predator with no choice but to raise the fur on its back.
"Who are you?"
Leon gathers the courage to raise his hands, demonstrating that he means no harm, and awkwardly crunches through broken glass as he steps forward. He takes his time, so as not to upset the mysterious creature.
