Woodlock: No Escape

Third person's POV.

She ran through the hallway, barefoot and breathless. Shadows stretched behind her, and footsteps echoed—closer, heavier. Her heart pounded like war drums beneath her ribs.

The diary!

Mary Benicio yanked open the loose panel beneath her dorm cupboard and slid the small leather-bound book inside. She tucked a torn page with it—a warning, a secret she couldn't risk being found.

Just as the door creaked open, she stood straight, brushing strands of hair from her flushed face.

"Miss Benicio," said a voice—too calm to be comforting.

She turned, forcing a smile. "Yes, Master?"

"You broke the rules again?"

"No," she lied, trembling. "I follow the rules. I... I always do."

"You're brilliant, Mary," the voice said, stepping closer. "Too brilliant. You solved the chemical equations no one else could. The virus formula. The medical trial. You're not just a student, are you?"

Mary stepped past him, whispering, "I didn't break any rules."

But the corridor behind her filled with footsteps. A needle pierced her neck.

She didn't scream.

She woke hours later in the Room—cold steel, cement walls, the stench of blood and bleach. The same room others never returned from.

"She's the smartest one we've had," a voice muttered.

"Smarter than we expected," another replied. "Should we kill her?"

"No. Not yet. Torture her. Again. But if she tries to escape..."

"Then eliminate her."

Because Woodlock has no escape.

The next morning, Mary returned to class—limping. The pain under her uniform matched the tally marks she carved into her hidden notebook

'Missing students

Those punished repeatedly

Those who were... selected'

She had learned the truth slowly. some students weren't here to learn. They were here to solve problems for others. Exploited. Monitored. Discarded.

She pulled out her diary and wrote:

"I'm close. Only two locations have no cameras. No guards. That's not an accident. It's either a trap... or the truth. I'm going tonight."

On the last page, she wrote a message for anyone who might one day find it:

"If you're reading this, I'm either missing or dead. My name is Mary Benicio. I was targeted. Just like Ray. Just like the others."

"This academy is a mask—behind it are horrors. Every top student is a tool. The two hardest questions on each exam? They're not for grading. They're real problems. For real consequences. Fail them—and you disappear."

"The ones they target first are those they don't need. The ones who ask questions. So if you want to survive, stay quiet. Don't look too deep. Don't let them know you're watching."

She closed the diary, slid it back under the floorboard, and left for class.

In chemistry, the room applauded. "The genius herself," the lecturer smiled. "Mary cured the latest virus last week. Beat that, everyone."

Mary just smiled and sat—this time, not beside her usual friends. She sat next to Theo.

She slid him a note beneath the table.

"I know you came here for Ray. Leave! If they know you're here for her, you're as good as dead. Please. Leave while you still can."

Theo wrote back.

"I can't leave without her. Thank you for covering for me last night."

"Ray would've done the same. But if they suspect you..."

Later, between classes, Mary led him to a hallway she'd memorized for its blind spots.

"Why are you even here?" she whispered harshly. "You should've stayed away."

"I need to find Ray."

"She failed a chemistry practical. They called her in. She never came back. They said she left—but she didn't."

"Then help me find her." He begged.

"I can't. If I try to escape again, they'll kill my little sister. They know where she is."

"Then we escape. Tonight. You go to your sister. Get protection. I'll create a distraction."

Mary's eyes burned. "Why would you help me?"

"Because you helped me."

She hugged him. "Thank you."

That night, another student was found dead in the library. The school called it suicide.

No one asked why there were bruises on her wrists. Why there was no chair near the hanging rope.

"She was a bright girl," the principal said flatly. "Let us inform her family."

Mary's name was whispered again in the shadows.

A rising star.

A rebel.

A threat.

The last entry in her diary read.

"There's no escape... but I'm going to try anyway. And if I don't make it—find my sister. Tell her I tried."

Because at Woodlock Academy, the brightest lights burn out the fastest.

And Mary Benicio... had burned too bright to be allowed to live.

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