Something very strange is going on. It’s only the second week of spring term, and I’ve already racked up 10.5 tardies (0.5 because I swear I stepped into the room at exactly 8:30 and 59 seconds). However, everyone else seemed to have no problem being on time. Even if I sprinted at 30 mph, my classmates were somehow already seated and “paying attention” by the time I got to the door. No one seemed to notice anything either; regardless of how loudly I burst into the room, they remained unfazed. The only proof that I was actually tardy was my Veracross attendance detail.
You might think it’s as simple as bad time management, but after weeks of arduous investigation, careful calculation, and evidence collecting, I’ve uncovered the truth: the Tunnels. There’s a series of tunnels beneath the school, providing a shortcut to the different areas on campus. Now, this may sound far-fetched, but worry not, for I have evidence. First of all, I’ve noticed some students disappearing when turning a corner. Where did they go? Underground. Second, my consistent lateness. The reason? I don’t use the Tunnels. Third, I’ve spent hours observing the tiles in the bathroom, and they’re suspiciously aligned. Coincidence? I think not. And last but not least, the library. As I found out, the building’s more than the sacred haven of knowledge! If you listen carefully, there’s a soft hum, not of fluorescent lights, not of a printer, but of a secret operation hidden beneath our very feet.
As my investigation deepened, signs began appearing. Signs that I was being watched. Around every corner I turned, inside every bathroom I walked in, behind every bookshelf I peeked around, someone’s there. Watching. And it’s not just the students; it’s the entire school. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me. The trees look too symmetrical, almost like they’re hiding something. I’m certain something bigger is going on.
I’d done the math (A2A) and made the connections (LinkedIn) —the Tunnels are right beneath us, undetected by those who refuse to see. However, they’re not just a shortcut. They’re the arteries to a much larger operation. One orchestrated by a covert organization, working in the shadows. And here’s the most terrifying part —they know I’m onto them. I can feel it. Every time I take the fourth fork to the left in the Dining Hall, a suspiciously well timed cough cuts through the air. I’ve uncovered too much: the Tunnels, the operation, the truth. So, if you never see one of my articles again, well… you know what happened…