The Oneiro Rangers: First Night by Erwin Blackthorn

creams and makeup. The spirit made a sudden loud wail, spurting
liquid out of the hole in its throat; startling Glenda.
    Glenda hated this part every time prior, but the happiness she
gained still lingered. “Goodbye then. Until next time.”
    The spirit faded away, back into the mirror, the fluid that
covered the room leaving with it. Glenda slowly descended back to the floor,
her dress slightly opening like an umbrella. The red world around her turned
back to the dull darkness she’s always lived in, the mysterious light fading
away. Silence returned — no more dripping or moaning. Once her feet touched the
ground, she opened her eyes.
    It was just her in the bathroom now, her reflection dimly lit by
the lantern. Her face was clean, untouched, and dry; like nothing happened. She
tried to fight it back, but the urge to gag overwhelmed her. Nothing came out
of her mouth over the sink, but the ill state of her stomach remained. Picking
up her black-light lantern, Glenda gulped down what failed to come out as she
went to stash it back in her bag.
    It was too good to be true.
    She was only half way past the stalls when she could feel
something traveling up her throat. She quickly covered her mouth, her cheeks
blowing up like balloons. Rushing over to the nearest stall, she shoved the
door open, not caring about making noise anymore. Kneeling over the toilet
bowl, she took her hand away, and let it all out. The smell, the taste, and the
sight of her own vomit were all awful. But they were all worth it.
    She didn’t eat too much for dinner; mostly sour bile coming out.
Flushing it down for good, she followed up by rinsing her mouth and washing her
hands in the sink, like clockwork by now. No matter how much water she used,
the taste would always linger — reminding her. Enough has been done tonight and
Glenda couldn’t wait to crawl into bed. Plopping the bag’s strip over her left
shoulder, she pushed the door open, getting a peek of the hallway.
    Glenda gasped, quickly covering her mouth to stifle it. Dozens of
little creatures hobbled around in the halls, creeping into the rooms. Long
floppy ears bobbed above their silhouettes with each silent cackle, the hissing
between their fangs audible only to those who were aware of their presence. She
could make out three long claws on each hand, their clear hooked tips like
prisms — sending arrays of colors into the floor as they crossed the moonlight.
One started walking in her direction, Glenda closing the door immediately.
    She ran back into the stall, closing the toilet lid to perch on
top of it. Holding herself tightly, she kept her bag tucked between her legs.
The pounding in her chest was enough to make her fear that whatever was out
there would hear it, making her heart pound even more. She waited, trying
effortlessly to sense something in the darkness — any kind of sign. Trying to
calm her shuddering breaths to no avail, all she could do was fight back the
ever-apparent urge to cry.
    It was silent, not a single noise. Nothing stirred, not even a
door opening. She felt a little better, but was far from settled. Dropping her
legs down, she allowed herself to ease up a bit, her wrist already sore from
gripping them so tightly. It will be a while before she was willing to get out
of the stall, and even longer for her to enter the halls.
    .  .  .
    The switch clicked, but the flashlight stayed as the only source
of illumination. “Hmm, that’s funny,” Clint grumbled.
    “ Welp, ” Roland said, stretching his arms up, “lights don’t
work. Looks like it’s time for us to hit the hay and do this detention thing
some other time.”
    Right when Roland took a step to escape, Clint snatched him by the
ear, nearly tugging it clean off as he reeled him back inside the detention
room. “Not a chance.”
    Roland panted in pain. “ Owowowow , okay, okay. I’m staying,
I’m staying!” He rubbed his lobe once Clint let go. “Jeez, no need to pull out
the big guns for