Buried During Snowfall – Chapter 10
Phase Two
The radios kept talking long after the voice stopped.
Not words.
Breathing.
Slow mechanical breathing crackling through every emergency channel inside Ashriver. Federal agents downstairs ripped earpieces out violently while static screamed through speakers mounted on their tactical vests.
Then the breathing changed.
It became laughter.
Distorted.
Layered.
Like dozens of people laughing through the same throat.
Mara stared down the staircase. “What the hell is Phase Two?”
Nobody answered her.
Because at that exact moment the floor beneath the entrance hall exploded upward.
Concrete shattered.
Wood splintered.
A deafening crack tore through the building as something erupted from beneath the ground floor like a buried bomb going off. Agents were thrown backward instantly. One disappeared into the collapsing floor screaming.
Adrian grabbed Mara just before the staircase railing buckled beside them.
Dust filled the air.
Alarms screamed throughout the building.
Then came the smell.
Rot.
Wet earth.
Chemicals.
And something older underneath all of it.
Something sealed underground for decades.
The entrance hall floor had collapsed completely, exposing a massive hole descending into darkness beneath Ashriver.
And from inside that darkness—
Movement.
Federal agents aimed weapons downward immediately.
“CONTACT BELOW!”
Gunfire erupted.
Rapid flashes lit the hole beneath the school while deafening shots echoed through the corridors. Mara ducked instinctively beside Adrian as bullets tore into darkness below.
Then the screaming started again.
Not from whatever was underground.
From the agents.
One man stumbled backward firing wildly at nothing. Another clawed at his own face shrieking like his skin was burning.
“What are they shooting at?” Mara shouted.
Adrian looked down into the hole.
And his blood turned cold.
Children were climbing out.
Not corpses.
Not ghosts.
Children.
Thin pale bodies in identical white uniforms emerging slowly from underground tunnels beneath the school. Some looked barely ten years old. Others older. Their movements felt wrong — stiff and synchronized like puppets pulled by invisible strings.
Every single one had numbers carved somewhere into their skin.
Mara whispered, “Oh my God…”
One federal agent opened fire directly into a boy climbing from the hole.
The bullets hit center mass.
The child collapsed.
Then stood back up.
The agent panicked instantly. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”
The children kept climbing.
Silent.
Expressionless.
Dozens of them.
Adrian felt memories smashing into him faster now.
Underground corridors.
Children lined beside metal beds.
Doctors.
Machines.
The Headmaster watching everything calmly from observation windows.
And one phrase repeated endlessly during the experiments:
Phase One creates separation.
Phase Two creates obedience.
“No…” Adrian whispered.
Mara looked at him sharply. “You know what this is.”
“They weren’t experiments…”
“What?”
“They were conditioning programs.”
Another explosion rocked the building.
This time deeper underground.
The children suddenly stopped moving all at once.
Every head slowly turned upward toward Adrian simultaneously.
Hundreds of pale eyes fixed directly on him from below.
Then they spoke together.
Perfect unison.
“Welcome home.”
Adrian staggered backward in horror.
The voices belonged to children.
But underneath them—
Another voice existed too.
The Headmaster.
Speaking through them.
Mara grabbed Adrian’s arm hard. “We’re leaving. Now.”
He didn’t resist.
They ran.
Gunfire continued behind them while agents screamed below as more children emerged from underground tunnels. Some officers fled toward exits. Others kept shooting uselessly into bodies that refused to stay down.
The hallway lights flickered violently as Adrian and Mara sprinted toward the western stairwell.
Then the emergency speakers crackled alive throughout Ashriver.
The Headmaster again.
Calm as ever.
“Attention students. Dormitory lockdown begins immediately.”
Adrian nearly tripped.
That sentence.
That exact sentence used to precede disappearances.
The doors slammed shut throughout the building instantly.
Heavy metal security doors dropping automatically over hallways and staircases with thunderous crashes.
Mara stopped short. “Are you kidding me?!”
Old systems.
Old lockdown mechanisms.
Still functional after thirty years.
Adrian turned toward the nearest corridor just as steel barriers sealed it completely.
“We’re trapped.”
“No shit.”
The speakers hissed again.
“Students found outside assigned areas will be disciplined.”
Mara stared at Adrian. “Your school was insane.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“It was organized.”
A child appeared at the far end of the hallway.
Then another.
Then several more.
Standing perfectly still beneath flickering lights.
Watching.
Mara aimed her gun immediately. “Don’t come closer!”
The children ignored her.
One little girl stepped forward slowly.
Half her face had been surgically scarred.
Numbers carved across her neck.
She couldn’t have been older than eight.
“How long were they down there…” Mara whispered.
Adrian already knew the answer was impossible.
Then the little girl spoke.
“When did you remember Noah?”
Adrian froze solid.
The girl tilted her head unnaturally.
“He cried for you.”
Mara fired.
The shot hit the wall beside the girl’s head.
Because Adrian shoved the weapon aside at the last second.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“They’re children!”
“They’re not normal!”
The little girl smiled faintly.
Then all the hallway children began singing again.
Soft.
Perfectly synchronized.
When snowfall buries all beneath,
The quiet ones return…
The lights died again.
Darkness swallowed the corridor.
Then tiny footsteps rushed toward them from every direction.
Mara screamed, “RUN!”
They sprinted blindly through darkness while children laughed around them from unseen hallways. Hands brushed Adrian’s coat. Tiny fingers grabbed at Mara’s sleeves before vanishing again.
Not attacking.
Guiding.
Herding.
Like predators controlling prey.
Adrian smashed through a side door and both collapsed into another room before slamming it shut behind them.
Silence.
Only breathing.
Mara locked the door immediately using a rusted pipe jammed beneath the handle.
Then they finally looked around.
The room was enormous.
Underground.
Concrete walls.
Medical equipment.
Observation windows.
Rows of restraint beds stretching into darkness.
Adrian stopped breathing.
“No…”
Mara turned slowly in horror.
“What is this place?”
Adrian’s voice sounded dead.
“The real Ashriver.”