Sycamore University is a private, coeducational, liberal arts college in New York City, in the United States. Founded in 1861, it was the first degree-granting institution of higher education for women in the United States. It became coeducational in 1969 and now has a gender ratio at the national average.

The college offers B.A. degrees in more than 50 majors and features a flexible curriculum designed to promote a breadth of studies. Sycamore University also provides many extracurricular organizations including student theater, acapella groups, club sports, volunteer and service groups, and a circus troupe. Sycamore University’s varsity sports teams, known as the Archangels, play in the NCAA’s Division III as members of the Liberty League.

Sycamore University tied for the 9th best liberal arts college in the nation in the 2017 annual ranking by U.S. News & World Report, with admissions described as “most selective.” For the freshman class entering fall 2017, the college had an acceptance rate of 16.9%. The total number of students attending college is around 2,566.

The Sycamore campus comprises over 1,000 acres (400 ha) and more than 100 buildings, including two National Historic Landmarks and an additional National Historic Place. A designated arboretum, the campus features more than 200 species of trees, a native plant preserve, and a 400-acre (160 ha) ecological preserve.

It’s nighttime in the middle of March at the Sycamore University, and everyone is either asleep or decompressing after taking their final exams. The sweet aroma of wet grass filled the air making everyone believe that spring is finally here. Usually, everyone is out and about having fun and blow off some steam, going to various parties throughout the university. Unfortunately, there has been a series of deadly attacks around campus scaring off any find of late-night activities. Most people say it’s a wild animal or maybe an enormous rabid dog. All of them were rumors with no base of truth or evidence.

It didn’t stop the two unfortunate men who have been given the unenvious daunting task to patrol the central campus, security officers Lieut. Omar Ross and Sgt. Jeffrey Reed, thought twice about their profession.

They were both wearing their dark blue security uniforms, fitted baseball caps, bomber jackets. Omar being a former military man, followed his dress codes to letter as Jeffrey didn’t bother talking in his shirt. Which it was understandable since Jeffrey was a bit stocky and the shirt was way too big for him. As for Omar, he may not look it, but he was in the 60s and still in good shape. In better shape than most of his younger employees, he had no problem exerting his authority and flipping most of them into shape were only there to collect a paycheck.

Between the two, Omar was dead set on finding this killer. Having served in the military and being a former cop himself, the 56-year-old veteran knew his way around dealing with dangerous situations. Meanwhile, the 22-year-old Jeffrey wanted to keep himself in one piece and take a paycheck. He thought it would be an easy job, just to ride around in a golf cart all night and spot stupid people doing stupid things. But him being outside with a man who is passed beyond his prime, is even more idiotic in his eyes.

Riding around in their electric golf cart, they successfully patrolled the entire central campus without incident. Omar went on the radio and called dispatch on his walkie-talkie, “this is Omar, calling the central control. The central campus is all clear.”

“Roger that. One hour until shift change,” central control responded.

“Only one more hour to go and I am out of here,” Jeffrey exhaled as he turns the golf cart around slowly and drives back to their headquarters.

“Don’t breathe too easily. We are still out here. Anything can happen,” Omar reminded.

Jeffrey hated the fact that Omar had his own ulterior motive for catching the assailant. It made matters even worse that Omar insisted that Jeffrey would team up with him tonight while everyone decided to call in sick.

He didn’t make his disdain for Omar a secret, “I know. That’s why whatever happens, I’m staying in the cart.”

“Some brave cop you turned out to be,” Omar heckled.

“Last time I checked we are not even real cops,” Jeffrey corrected. “We are armed with flashlights and pepper spray. And a walkie-talkie to call the actual police via central control; which is pretty much a broom closet with a radio.”

“Could you at least have some balls for once. This is a sweet gig,” Omar snarled. “All you have to do is drive around in the cart in a prissy University. See some prissy asshole kids doing stuff, you bust them, and that’s it. Hey, it beats working at some fast food joint. Would you rather do that?”

Omar knew that the young man was scared, but he wanted to prove a point to everyone that the moment you run away and hide is the moment you give people like the supposed murder power. He didn’t want to give that kind of power to the killer out there. He tried to stand his ground and seek him out.

Unfortunately, Jeffrey wasn’t buying it, “Don’t give me some backhanded ultimatum. Gated communities are not. No one is safe. Not even us.”

Still being attentive to their surroundings, Omar sees a shadowy figure running about in the distance, “Jeffrey, look over there.”

“No, I am not looking over there,” Jeffrey denied. “I am driving back to our broom closet.”

“Just now, I thought I saw something,” the veteran insisted.

“Well, I’m not driving over there, if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Jeffrey resented.

“Just, a quick look around. That’s all I ask. You can even stay in the cart, and I’ll look at it,” Omar bargained as Jeffrey sighs in disbelief.

“I am keeping the cart running,” Jeffrey decided.

“Thanks, Jeff. Let’s go. Just a quick look around and we’ll go back,” Omar reassured as Jeffrey drove from the entrance of the art center to the chapel where Omar saw something on the walkway.

While Jeff was driving up to the chapel, Omar took his flashlight and shined it on the golden-brown bricked sidewalk. It was at that moment something realized Omar’s and Jeff’s fears as they saw a trail of blood. First, it was droplets of blood making a straight line. As Jeffrey was following the path, the blood became more visible. More noticeable. Droplets became one massive streak that covered 3 tiles at once.

Jeffrey had enough, as this made him consciously stop the cart in protest, “Omar, call it in. I’m not going any further.”

“Yeah, fuck that, turn this fucker around and let’s go!” Omar agreed as Jeffrey made a U-turn and bolted away from a soon-to-be crime scene. Immediately, Omar called it in on his walkie-talkie, “this is Omar. I have a possible crime scene near the chapel, central campus--”

A loud roar that echoed the air around them, encompassed by the monster’s voice. Jeffrey tried his best to get to safety with this cart. The cart itself was moderately fast. Only being 50 mph as its top speed. Alas, that will not save them. Whatever may cause that loud roar, was chasing them. Catching up with them. In a matter of seconds, the monster got a hold of the back of the cart and toppled it over, knocking the two men out of it.

Instinctively, Jeffrey got right back up and ran. Sadly, he didn’t look back as his partner was being mauled to death. He can still hear Omar’s pleading and cries as the monster was tearing into his flesh. Hearing the blood splatter on the ground.

He was already exhausted, but the anxiety and fear gave him such an adrenaline rush. He ran until he thought he would puke all over himself from exhaustion and despair.

He made his way to the grand entrance of the chapel. Unfortunately, nobody was around. He didn’t care. At least he was safe, and whatever that was didn’t find him. Well, not yet anyway. He barricaded the door the best that he could by locking the door behind him and pushing a 50-pound bench in front of the door.

Immediately, someone pounded on the door. Almost breaking it open and sending Jeffrey flying 10 feet from the door. He quickly recovered by getting back up on his feet. Jeffrey decided to leave out the back door but was chained up with a lock. Jeffrey attended mass almost every Sunday and even help the pastor with his sermon. Now more than ever, he needed the strength of Christ to aid him through this dilemma.

At least, Jeffrey had the advantage. He knew about the chapel inside and out… Or so he thought… Everything was locked up tight, and the pastor’s secretary has the only copy of the keys. There was the fire escape which is usually open. Although he was afraid of heights, he relented. There was a ladder next to the boiler room entrance. Sadly, the pastor’s procrastination would be Jeffrey’s downfall. As he climbed up the rusted ladder, the rungs on the ladder broke off immediately, and he fell on the floor and flat on his back.

With haste, he got back up and tried to get into the boiler room. Unfortunately, it was locked. Beating on the door from the outside, the beast was only three attempts away from breaking down the door. Jeffrey had to think fast as he was running out of time. He took one of the rusted rungs off the ladder and tried breaking the doorknob. After a few tries, he succeeded. As soon as he opened the door, the beast successfully cut down the door. Closing the door behind him. As he was barricading the door with a 100-pound barrel of tar, he realized there was another way out. As he makes his way to the dimmed boiler room, it was dead quiet. He tried his best to keep himself quiet as well.

BOOM! A loud bang on the boiler room door, startling Jeffrey. The beast is catching on to him. He had to think quickly, and whatever plan using about just went out the window due to fear and anxiety. He had to find another way out, regardless.

BOOM! Another loud bang on the boiler room door, hearing the barrel fall to the floor. Jeffrey made his way to the fuse box and the control panel. He turned on all the machines to create as much noise as possible and turned off most of the lights. Jeffrey felt in his heart that the beast was here as he panicked, running through the boiler room.

He hid in one of the offices in the boiler room. It was pitch black. So, dark you can barely see your own hand in front of it. Instinctively, he went for his pepper spray and his flashlight. He knew it wasn’t going to do much. But at least it was something… To him at least. He wanted to make sure this flashlight worked so he turned it on… Only to find the growling beast staring at him… Face-to-face.

Jeffrey didn’t even have time to react as the roaring beast ripped open his throat with its fanged teeth. Sadly, his screams wouldn’t have made a difference as the sounds of equipment in the boiler room drowned out the noise. The beast had won. The monster has claimed its kill yet again…