Written by Kelsey Smith
Illustrated by Estella Sun
"She was trapped. With two raccoons. Probably two rabid raccoons."
I’ve heard a rumor about some raccoons around UT. Not the normal raccoons that bolt from the storm drains near Jester or the ones that scavenge through the trash cans for their buried treasure outside of SAC. The raccoons I’ve heard about were sinister.
Our story started when a rare cold front rolled over Painter Hall. A girl paused in front of the door at the top of the stairwell. She pulled the handle forward, yet it was jammed.
Of course one of the only things between her and her dorm decided to be difficult. On one of the coldest nights in Spring.
Low rumbles rustled from the hall behind the doors. She loosened her grip on the handle and peered through the door’s window.
The lights flickered, smothering the faint blue tiled walls in a constant cycle of light and darkness. Doors on the right and left stood closed shut. A bench on the wall lay vacant. Trash cans were shoved into the corner near another set of doors. Silence pierced through the student’s ears.
Nothing. she thought, Maybe I should walk outside tonight?
She glanced down the stairs and through the outside doors’ windows. Leaves whipped through the air. A flash of light appeared, and a boom of thunder sliced through the air a moment after.
Cold fronts rarely brought horrible lightning storms this early in Spring. Walking to Carothers outside tonight apparently wasn’t an option with the lightning. It wasn’t even an option on a normal night since she had no one to walk with to her dorm. Though it wasn’t like anyone cared. Thankfully, she found this new shortcut from the lab a couple of weeks ago that cut off five minutes of her walk.
She returned to the matter of the door. The dang thing was testy, but it could be tamed.
A boom screeched from the hall. The student flung her head up and back through the window. It was nothing.
Wait a minute.
The trash cans were knocked over.
The student pulled the door open with a screaming creak. She entered the hall, and no one was there. It was safe. She had been working too hard the last couple of weeks. Now she was hearing and seeing things.
She let the door to the stairwell shut behind her and took a breath. Glancing at her watch, she shoved it out of her sight.
4:00 A.M.! I should have left the lab hours ago. I’ve been in that lab 24/7 while everyone parties. Project 810 is looking like a bust anyways. But it’s better than being in my dorm all the time.
A crash rattled the end of the hallway. The student opened her eyes and saw nothing but the lights flickering across the floor.
Great, she thought, I’m hearing things again.
Then, two raccoons, backs arched up like black cats, stared at her with their fiery yellow eyes staring right at hers.
She pounced back to the doors and focused on the handle to the door in front of her, yet it wouldn’t budge.
She was trapped. With two raccoons. Probably two rabid raccoons.
A voice sounded behind her, “What a shame. Doors here are always so unpredictable. Instead of walking all alone, walk with some friends. Like us.”
“I know.” The student ignored the voice. She was hearing things again. She strangled the handle to pull open. I know I need to make more friends. I know I spend too much time in the lab. I know… She let go of the handle and looked at the raccoons. “Wait. Did you say that? What am I saying? Raccoons can’t talk.”
“Yes, I did. We’ve been waiting for you. Tracking your and the other students’ movements. For almost half a moon cycle. ” One of the raccoons scurried forward closer to the student with a voice that could scratch a chalkboard. She bowed her head.
The student stuttered, “You…can…talk?”
“Of course we can.” The other raccoon trotted next to the other, his voice gentler. He bowed his head. “Do you think we were stupid?”
“No…” The student sidestepped near the wall. The raccoons started to circle her. The student charged the raccoons, and jumped over them, heading for the door.
“You hesitated.” The first raccoon hissed as she turned her focus toward the student.
The student slowed down and examined the raccoons as she approached the doors.
“You shouldn’t be able to talk? It’s scientifically impossible.”
“Yet it is. My name is Mischief.” The first raccoon said. Mischief’s claws scarred the tile as she mimicked the student’s motion for the door. “This is Mayhem.” She pointed her nose to the raccoon next to her. The two wore the same features. An ebony mask with a shadowy cloak. The only distinguishable thing between the two were their voices. “We are recent products of Project 810. Only to gain sentience when the moon rises over the horizon.”
The student glazed her hand over the door handle. She told herself to pull it, but her eyes lingered to the raccoons. “What? Project 810’s a bust. The chemical reaction to kill bark beetles in trees failed. I’ve been working on it all semester.”
“But it wasn’t.” Mayhem said. He and Mischief drew so close, the student could hear their breaths. “Funny you think so. We are proof. Shows what a little chemicals and some moonlight can do to the raccoon mind.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“Depends on if you give us access to Project 810. If you help us gain full sentience, we will not harm you.”
The student pressed down on the handle’s lever. “What if I don’t?”
Don’t know how. she thought.
Mischief scratched her claws along the tile, leaving a gash.
The student flung open the door, bolting down the hall like an antelope sprinting from a lion. The raccoons claws skidded behind her. She ran as fast she could, zooming around the corners and almost crashing into a wall.
At the end of the hall, another set of two large doors stood guard.
The student hammered the doors and leapt from the hall as if she was the wind herself. The raccoons tailed her, zipping through the open crevice.
Hard concrete met her feet while adrenaline pushed her legs forward. She sprinted down and around corners, past the dark security shack, and on the other side from Littlefield House. The beacon of hope grew brighter for her. Carother’s red roof glimmered under the glow of the setting gibbous moon.
Suddenly, the student fell onto the sidewalk. The raccoons pricked up, backs flared, and pounced towards her.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The student pushed up on her arms to run away, but her fear weighed her down.
“You see, we can’t do that. We need access to Project 810.” said Mischief
“But why me? Why not the other twenty students that work on the project?” The student felt behind her for anything. Anything that could fend them off.
“You were alone. You always work late more than the others. Out of the twenty-one students, you do ninety-nine percent of the work. The others know nothing to help us. And with no one caring where you are, you were the perfect target. Vulnerable, yet curious. Trust us…we’ve been watching and waiting for the right moment to pounce from the shadows.”
The student crawled to the edge near the green space. She jumbled for anything, anything that could help her. She rested her search when the raccoon’s words sunk in.
They’re right. I was the perfect target. I am alone.
“So just get up. Come back with us to your lab, and help us gain full sentience. It’s not like anyone cares about where you are right now.”
But I care.
“And do it fast too.” Mayhem ordered.
The student grabbed a hand full of dirt and aimed it into the raccoons eyes. “No.”
The raccoons shook the dirt out of their eyes. The student propelled herself from the sidewalk and raced Carothers’ entrance. She fiddled her ID out of her pocket.
The student swiped her card in the key scanner. Too fast. Red. No entry.
She glanced back at the raccoons. They recovered, and ran down the sidewalk with their yellow eyes buzzing with fury. They jumped five feet from the stairs and towards her.
She swiped her card again. Just right. Green. Entry.
She zipped into the door, and slammed it shut. The raccoons collided face first with the window, bouncing upon the cold steps and onto their backs.
The student breathed a breath and air pumped into her lungs. She was in the lobby.
Mischief rebounded to the window, snarling a growl. Mayhem took another shot with the door again, but knocked onto the glass again.
The last the student saw of them was their bright yellow eyes searing her soul.
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