Sidney, a photography major

As I sat hunched over my desk in the dimly lit dorm room, the soft glow of my laptop screen casting shadows across the walls, I was lost in the world of shutter speeds and composition techniques. The rhythmic clicking of my camera's shutter echoed in the silence of the night, punctuating my solitary study session.

Suddenly, a sharp rap on the door shattered the stillness, causing me to jump in my seat. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced at the clock — past midnight. Who could be knocking at this hour?

Cautiously, I approached the door, my senses on high alert. Peering through the peephole, I saw two figures standing outside, their forms obscured by the darkness of the hallway. They were dressed in matching latex nurse uniforms, an odd sight in the dead of night.

"Who is it?" I called out, my voice tinged with apprehension.

"Please, you have to let us in," one of the women pleaded urgently. "Someone's following us."

My mind raced with suspicion, the recent string of disappearances on campus flashing through my thoughts like a warning beacon. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Should I trust them?

Against my better judgment, a wave of empathy washed over me. If they were in trouble, I couldn't turn them away. With a resigned sigh, I unlocked the door and swung it open, allowing them entry into my sanctuary. Before I could react, they barged past me with surprising ****, their laughter echoing mockingly off the walls.

"Never talk to strangers, little girl."

Panic gripped my chest as I realized my mistake too late. They weren't seeking refuge — they were the harbingers of my doom. One of them pointed a device towards me that released a burst of vapor. My vision went blurry. The other nurse caught me before I could fall as my knees gave out.

Through the haze of unconsciousness, I felt myself being dragged away from the safety of my dorm room, my fate sealed by the very hands I had naively welcomed into my home.