 I've recently had to move to another city due to work. My family and I, which consists of me, my wife, and my nine-year-old son Dylan, were suddenly uprooted from our quiet life and had to move to a busier city, which none of us were used to. My wife had to find another job in the city and my son had to leave friends behind and start a new school, which I hoped would be all worth it for the sizable pay raise I was receiving. We've been moved into our new house for about a month now, and everyone seems to be adjusting to the new lifestyle that we now have. My wife has found a new job, which she enjoys, and she's made a number of new friends there. My son has also settled in well to the new school. He's in the third grade, and due to being in a busier city, isn't a larger class than he's used to. I don't think he minds, though. He's already made a few friends that have helped him adjust to the new school. His teacher, Mrs. Wagner, was a younger woman, around 30, who Dylan seemed to really like. He would always come home and tell me and my wife all about the fun he had at school, and the fun lessons that Mrs. Wagner would teach. I'd only met her the once when I dropped Dylan off at school on the first day, and as far as I could tell, she was a very nice lady. Every night, Dylan would come home with different homework that he would have to complete before school the next day. I'm not a massive fan of homework, but it seemed like the homework that Mrs. Wagner always sent was quite simple things that could easily be completed in a night. One night, Dylan had to ask a parent to find out what their parents did for work and ask three questions about their job, and another night, he had to research their favorite animal and find out three interesting things about it. It was always simple tasks like that. Or it was simple worksheets that Dylan could complete in half an hour or so. Every night, I would ask Dylan what his homework was for that night, and then I would help him with it if he needed help. That's when I noticed the homework becoming a little bit strange. One night, in Dylan's third week of being in the new class, he came home looking upset. I asked him when he entered the kitchen what was wrong, and he told me that everything was okay. I then asked him what his homework was for that night, and he told me that he didn't have any. This was surprising, because he had some sort of homework task every single night he'd been in Mrs. Wagner's class, so it was strange that he suddenly didn't. Dylan then left the kitchen and went into his room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't usually close the door, but I thought that he must have wanted some privacy. I could tell, though, that something was wrong, but he didn't want to tell me. Dylan spent most of the night in his room, apart from dinner time, when me and my wife told him he had to sit at the dinner table with us. He seemed to be in a better mood during dinner, and was fairly talkative in making jokes like he normally did. After dinner, though, he went back to his room and closed the door. We decided to let him stay in there for a while, but after an hour or two, I went in to see him and let him know that it was time to go to bed. I walked down to his room, opened the door, and when I looked inside, I saw that he'd already fallen asleep over his workbook. I quietly walked over to him to gently wake him up and move him to his bed. And that's when I saw it. The homework task that was set for that night, the title that was written in Dylan's workbook, was would I miss my parents if I no longer lived with them? At first I was taken aback. This was a very weird task to set for a group of nine and ten year olds. I didn't really know how to react to this. I continued to read, though, to see what else he'd written. He had written, I would miss both my mom and dad very much. I love them both a lot. And they helped me with everything. I love spending dinner time with them. But I would probably love someone else as much as them if I had to, like you were saying today, Mrs. Wagner. When I read that final sentence, I felt chills down my spine. I would probably love someone else as much as them if I had to. The words struck me like a brick to the face. What was Mrs. Wagner telling my son? What was the purpose of telling him these things? I decided, probably stupidly, not to tell my wife about what I'd found. She would worry, and she probably had a right to worry, but I didn't want to concern her. I decided that I would instead confront Mrs. Wagner tomorrow and ask her about this strange homework task. The next day, I took Dylan to school like I normally do, except this time I got out and walked up to the classroom with him. I saw Mrs. Wagner alone in the classroom as I entered the room, and she greeted me with a smile. Hey, how are you? She said as I entered the classroom. How's Dylan settling in? I answered that he was settling in well, but I did have one or two concerns. She asked what they were. And so I explained, I was just curious about the homework you said yesterday, the one about how much they would miss their parents. I'm just concerned, because it's a very strange and confronting thing to ask a group of third graders. I also noticed that Dylan wrote that he might have to love someone else if he had to, like you told him, I would really like you to explain that. I asked her quite bluntly. Oh, that she replied, she let out a slight laugh. Yesterday, I was teaching about how parents love and protect their kids. But also how there are also other people that would not be there to help them if they need it. I wasn't satisfied with this answer, and was about to question her further when suddenly a large group of schoolchildren entered. They were all walking in two rows. They all greeted Mrs. Wagner and greeted her one by one. They seemed very well behaved, almost too well behaved. I then saw Dylan take a seat next to one of the students who was staring to the front of the classroom with their arms crossed. At the entrance of the rest of the class, Dylan's behavior seemed to change. He seemed to sit up a bit straighter, and his eyes widened as he begun staring at the rest of the class. I looked around and noticed that all of the students were staring at the same spot. All their eyes were pointed at Mrs. Wagner. Something didn't feel right. But I knew that Dylan needed to stay at school. And this was probably some sort of morning routine they had. I left, still with concerns about the homework, but I decided to wait and see if any other strange homework would be set before I would take this matter further. I decided that I'd pick up Dylan from school, though. And so I left work a little bit early and drove over to the school. The school bell rang. And soon all the students were dismissed and starting to come out of the school gate. Most of the kids came running and screaming out of the gate, apart from Mrs. Wagner's class. They all walked out in a line walking in time. This disturbed me. I'd never seen a group of students so well behaved, especially even after the school bell had rung. Dylan walked over to the car and hopped in. He didn't say anything and sat in his seat, staring straight forward. I asked him if he was okay. And he just replied with the word yes. I drove him home in silence. And when we got home and inside, Dylan went straight to his room and closed the door. I knew something was wrong. But I didn't know what I decided to leave him alone until my wife got home. And I'd tell her everything that had been going on. She got home about half an hour later. And I sat her down and explained everything. She sat and listened and started to look more and more worried with every word I said. Maybe I should go talk to him. She said, I agreed. And so she went into his room and I waited out in a lounge room for them to finish talking. 15 minutes later, Dylan walked out and into the room. He was holding a small workbook. And he said, Can you help me with my homework, dad? Yeah, yeah, of course. Come and show me what you need help with. I replied, he held out the notebook, and I took it out of his hands and read the homework task for tonight. Written on the top line of the page was one task, research the best way to inject your parents with anesthetic. I barely finished reading the sentence when I felt the sharp pain in my neck. And I looked down and saw the needle sticking out of my skin. Dylan was holding the other end of the needle, a blank stare on his face. Everything started to go black. And the last thing I remember was seeing Dylan staring down at me as I lay on the floor. I don't know how long I was out. But I was awoken by my wife screaming and crying. I woke up startled as she continued to scream. He's gone. Dylan's gone. She kept screaming. I looked up at her. And the first thing I saw was the small pin prick on the side of her neck. She'd been injected too. I didn't know what to do. But I knew I had to find my son. I tried my best to get up. But I think the drug hadn't properly worn off yet, because I still couldn't move properly. I could move my arms so I managed to get my phone out of my pocket and dial the police. I explained to them what had happened, and they said they'd send officers out and would begin looking for Dylan. I then noticed that it was already the morning, and so I decided to ring the school and see if Dylan had gone there. I dialed, and a lady answered the phone. I asked if she had seen Dylan for Mrs. Wagner's class. No, no, I'm very sorry, but we haven't seen him today. In fact, we haven't seen anyone from Mrs. Wagner's class today. They're all absent. Which is very odd, because Mrs. Wagner hasn't shown up for work either. The lady on the phone said, I hung up and sat in silence for a moment. That was all three weeks ago. And Dylan is still missing along with Mrs. Wagner and the rest of his classmates. All the parents of the kids in Dylan's class have the same story. They were injected with something by their own children. And when they woke up, their child was gone. No one knows where they went, but we all had the same questions. Were they all together? Was Mrs. Wagner with them? Why were all the students acting so strange in the day leading up to this? Were they hypnotized or drugged? Or was it something even more sinister?