Chapter 27

I slowly push open the school doors, not knowing quite what to expect on the other side. The first thing I notice is the bright sunlight assaulting my eyes. I squint, barely able to make out the scene before me through the glare. As my vision adjusts, my eyes widen. The school grounds are swarming with dozens of FBI agents, police officers, and reporters.

"Oh my god, there are actually survivors!" a woman's voice rings out over the commotion. A tall female FBI agent with piercing blue eyes rushes towards us, her long blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her navy blue FBI jacket flaps behind her as she hurries toward us.

"I'm Agent Sophie Mills," she says breathlessly as she reaches us, flashing her badge. Her eyes widen as she looks us up and down. "I can't believe it. No one has ever made it out of the other dungeons alive. This is incredible!"

We stare back at her in silence, not knowing quite what to say.

Agent Mills composes herself and fixes us with an intense stare. "I know you guys must be overwhelmed and tired, but this is important - were there any other survivors in there with you?" Her voice is tinged with urgency and desperation.

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "No, Agent Mills. It looks like it's just the four of us who made it out alive. There were others from our school in there at the start, but they...they didn't make it." Images of bloodied bodies and horrible deaths flash through my mind. I look away, blinking rapidly.

Sara reaches out and squeezes my left hand gently. "We barely survived ourselves," she says quietly, her usually cheery voice subdued. "The creatures in there were like nothing we've ever seen. They were vicious, powerful...and deadly." She wraps her arms around herself, her eyes darting nervously as if expecting danger to appear at any moment.

Agent Mills listens intently, as she starts scribbling notes in a small pad she's pulled from her jacket pocket. "It's frankly a miracle that you four made it out alive at all then. I need you to tell me everything - how you survived, what it was like in there, any details you can remember at all."

I nod, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. Beside me, Tim shifts impatiently, clenching his fists. "Do we really have to do this right now?" he grumbles. "We just got out of that hellhole, for crying out loud."

Lily shoots him a sharp look. "Tim, we have a responsibility to share what we know."

Tim rolls his eyes, but eventually, we begin to recount our harrowing ordeal to the agent. All of us share parts of our story, our voices unsteady as we relive the horror, the desperate fight for our survival against all the odds.

Through it all, Agent Mills listens solemnly, her face a mask of professionalism. I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she processes our account.

Finally, after what feels like hours, we fall silent, our energy reserves depleted. Agent Mills puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I know that was incredibly difficult for you all," she says softly. "What you've endured is unimaginable. But your information will help us immensely in dealing with this crisis. You're heroes, as far as I'm concerned."

Hearing the agent call us heroes makes me shift uncomfortably. 

I don't feel heroic - just tired and confused.

Lily voices the question that's been on all our minds. "What happens now?" Her tone waverings slightly. 

Agent Mills gives us a bright smile. "Well, first things first - are you guys hungry? I imagine it's been a while since you've had a proper meal. We've got hot food for you back at headquarters if you're interested." She pauses, then adds, "And once we're there, you'll be able to call your parents to let them know you're all okay. I'm sure they've been worried sick about you."

The mention of hot food makes my stomach growl loudly. 

I hadn't even realized how famished I am until now. 

On the other hand, calling my parents, I'm not as enthusiastic about.

It appears that Tim agrees with me. "Yes, let's go. We're starving," Tim says enthusiastically.

Agent Mills chuckles and gestures for us to follow her. As we walk across the school grounds, I can't help but stare at the organized commotion around us - cops taking witness statements, federal agents barking orders, news vans with satellite dishes pointed to the sky.

After walking for a while, we finally reach a row of black FBI vans and SUVs. Agent Mills opens the door to the lead vehicle and ushers us inside. A wave of cool air washes over me as I climb in and it's a sweet relief from the oppressive heat outside. As I collapse into the cushy leather seat, my body quickly goes limp in exhaustion.

As the van rumbles to life and pulls away from the school, I stare out the dark tinted window, watching the flashing lights and milling figures recede into the distance. My eyelids feel as heavy as lead. It would be so easy to just let them slide closed, and drift away into the blissful oblivion of sleep so that I can forget about this waking nightmare for a little while.

But I blink my eyes open, and force myself to stay awake, to stay alert. 

We may have escaped the dungeon, but something tells me our trouble is far from over.