The Demoness of the Hall

The sun crests the horizon on another beautiful morning at Whocaresaboutthename High. The dazzling orange and purple light reflect off of the dewdrops on the grassy knoll just outside of campus, creating a shimmering field of sparks across the earth. A gentle gust rolls through, bidding branches to sway like the limbs of dancers saluting the beauty of this world. A fuzzy little squirrel takes a moment out of its busy day of doing squirrel stuff to acknowledge the strange scene playing out in front of its tree before rushing off to find a nut-- or something? Are squirrels into nuts or acorns? Are they the same thing? I honestly don’t know, I’m not some soothing-voiced nature documentarian. I’m just some loser experiencing this picturesque scene… upside down... being held by my feet in the clutches of a gigantic teen-wolf wearing a letterman’s jacket.

 

Honestly, shouldn’t this dude be off winning some championship game against the Dragons and not harassing someone who could be a young Michael J. Fox’s stunt double? The nerve.

 

“Alright, looks like the prize is mine.” A voice dripping with smug assaults my ears as the wolf-man growls in contentment. Oh, yeah, this whole prize business is a fresh new hell that I’ve been enjoying for the past week. Apparently, someone getting away from Haley is a pretty big deal. In the hierarchy of badasses and hellraisers here she’s kind of the HBIC. As the one who got away, I’ve become public enemy numero uno for all of the local dickbags looking to earn some demented street-cred. Given how much running, hiding, and screaming I’ve done in the past week, letting myself just get robbed on day one was probably the correct course of action. “Now, hand over your cash and--”

 

The wind is knocked out of Wolfgang here by the business end of a crutch aggressively greeting his ribs. The clawed hands that milliseconds ago held me up surrender my body to the merciless whims of gravity as I plunge headfirst into the dirt. The world is awash in nothing but flashing white dots as my head acclimates to being right side up and moderately concussed. As my vision clears, I realize just how intense my head wound must be since there’s no way a towering, red, demon lady just came to my rescue.

 

“Oh, isn’t this interesting? Why the interference play, Big Red? Thought you’d want to see this one put in his place more than anyone else.” The bad doggo snarls as his lungs regain the ability to hold air. “Besides, you’re smart enough to know that you can’t take me when I’ve got a literal leg up, right?” With the hand that isn’t still nursing his solar plexus, Balto gestures at Haley’s still braced foot. 

 

With a wicked grin that projects more confidence than I’ve ever felt in my entire life, Haley chuckles. “Arnie, Arnie, Arnie, we both know it’d take me losing both feet and an arm for us to even be in the same league. Now be a good boy and sniff someone else’s ass.”

 

Anybody who has ever seen a cowboy movie knows exactly what the next five seconds are like. Two gunslingers with irreconcilable differences meet in a once peaceful saloon as the townsfolk scatter and flee. The pair stare each other down as their hands slowly drift to their holsters. Some badass whistling and harmonica music plays in the background as a tumbleweed drifts along because why the fuck wouldn’t one appear out of thin air for just such an occasion? All that’s left is to wait for the clock to reach high noon in… three and a half hours. Alright, I’ll admit the metaphor isn’t perfect, but damn if this silent tension couldn’t make a horror movie director cream their pants with envy.

 

Arnie drops low before launching himself at Haley, who clumsily sidesteps him. Faster than the wolf can react, Haley’s tail darts out from behind her and wraps around his arm, pulling him close. The two trade blows like a couple of boxers in a grudge match before taking their scuffle to the ground. For a while, the two seem deadlocked, but after a couple of cheap shots to her still-recovering ankle, Haley loses steam. Arnie relentlessly continues his assault despite Haley’s waning guard. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this!” he roars as his fists continue flying.

 

“Hey, Alpo breath! You really forgot about me?” I call out, ignoring every ounce of my better judgment screaming at me to just shut up. “Damn, I knew you weren’t the smartest doggie at the park, but I didn’t think you were Moon Moon stupid.” Arnie’s ears perk up and his strikes slow to a halt. The big bad wolf looks over his shoulder with a wicked scowl. “Good boy, looking when he’s called. I may just give you a treat yet.”

 

“Beat it, piss-ant, you’re old news,” he says as he bares more and more sharp teeth at me.

 

One day my big mouth is going to get me killed… oh well, at least people will be able to say that I died as I lived, as a sassy piece of shit. Putting on my Sunday best condescending baby voice, I rest my hands on my hips. “Aww, is someone being a bad boy? Yes, someone’s being a weawwy bad boy, isn’t he? Who’s my bad boy!? Is it you!?”

 

Faster than I thought possible, Arnie is back on his feet. Well, there went my plan to run like hell while he stands up. Looks like I get no head start, great. Doing what I do best, I take off running like a bat out of hell.

 

A quick zoology lesson for all of you at home. Wolves are fast… The end, learn anything? I know I am as I hear death on a pale wolf chasing me with gusto and far greater speed than I have in my back pocket. Crashing through the front doors of the school, I try to figure out which god I should be praying to here. I mean, customarily it should be whoever you believe in, but considering my utter lack of faith when I’m not in mortal peril, that’s not really an option. If I’m to meet my maker today, shall I hedge my bets and try to say wassup to the lot of them?

 

As I round the corner to the first hall of classrooms, my energy is all but spent. Meanwhile, Arnie ain’t exactly huffing and puffing. I’ve never felt so betrayed by fairy tales. Despite my best efforts, my arms and legs start pumping slower and slower. Sweat stings my eyes as the fluorescent lights above start bleeding into my vision like a shimmering aurora.

 

Then the unthinkable happens. I hear a sharp whine from behind me and my pursuer goes silent. Always one to question a good thing, I turn around just in time to see a hairy, hulking arm tugging the wolf into one of the classrooms I passed before the door slams shut. A few minutes go by as I just stand slack-jawed in the hallway, confused as all hell by what just happened. Are you there, God? It’s me, W… if that was you, that was such a baller move. Spurred on a curiosity that can be fatal to felines, I walk over to the miracle door and try to open it. No matter how I tug at the handle, the damn thing won’t budge. Guess this space is beyond mortal eyes.

 

Abandoning my quest for answers after a solid thirty-seven seconds of searching (a new personal record), I head back to the yard and find one pissed-off demon brushing grass and dirt off of her clothes. “Damn Arnie, always fighting dirty. I would have kicked his ass if he hadn’t been such an underhanded little shit. I totally had him, right!?”

 

Haley turns her blazing eyes towards me and I feel oddly compelled to nod. “Yup, absolutely, one hundred percent, had it in the bag, what a scumbag he is.” For once, her anger isn’t focused on me; I’d like to keep it that way. “Hell, that was downright heroic up until the part where you got your ass handed to you.” Well, I had a good five seconds of not being first on her shit list. I miss it already.

 

“Oh, rest assured, I wasn’t playing hero. This splint comes off in one week and I want you and your wallet in one piece for me when the hunt resumes.” Haley crosses her arms in front of her and sneers. “Now do me a favor and try not to let some pathetic mutt get to you before I can.” Glad to know some things around here will never change. Stability is important for a happy life… or so I’m told.

 

“Gee, you're smothering me with your selfless concern.” I pick up my discarded backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “Anyway… thanks for helping.” The familiar and unpleasant feeling of warmth spreading across my face gets me to turn away from Haley. Whatever her warped motivations might have been, she did help me out. I just wish we could bury the hatchet… preferably in the next seven days would be fabulous.

 

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” A low mumble trails behind me as I start walking to class and I swear I can almost make out another word beyond those three spoken in nothing more than a hushed whisper.

 

***

 

First period begins, as it has every insufferable day before it. I know, I know. “What’s with  the negativity W? This macabre cynicism is incredibly off-brand for you.” Yes, annoying high pitched voice in my head, it is.

 

“Everyone, start passing up the assignment from last night.” Ms. Quinn, our school’s oddly peppy math teacher calls from her desk. How someone can be so damn happy when their life revolves around talking about numbers all day is beyond me. Yes, calculus, the one thing in this crazy world I hate more than almost being turned into some wolf’s chew toy. Always willing to comply with figures of authority, I pass up the worksheet I filled out entirely in poorly google translated Japanese. Let’s see how Ms. Quinn likes not understanding a bunch of symbols, Ha!

 

My meager act of civil disobedience for the day accomplished, I believe I’ve earned myself a solid hour of zoning out and daydreaming. An hour that is quickly interrupted by the sliding of chairs across a tiled floor. Alright, I’m not completely unfamiliar with the theory of relativity and perceived time dilation… but there’s no fucking way class is already over.

 

The students in the room all shuffle around, forming pairs with one another as Ms. Quinn sits behind her desk with some celebrity gossip magazine. Oh no… the compulsory camaraderie, the uncaring educator, the lack of an ignorable lecture, this can only mean one thing. A group project, bane of new students since 1753… or whenever school became a thing. Look, just because I hate math doesn’t mean I have to pay attention to history. I can be a well-rounded underachiever. 

 

A dry chuckle snaps me out of my inner ravings as a recognizable voice has a laugh at my expense. “Oh my, are we all alone as usual then? How sad.” Snakes… it just had to be snakes. Libby, to be precise. “Don’t tell me you’re not even going to try and find a partner for the student-led lessons. Here I thought you were turning over a new leaf by helping out Haley.”

 

Despite having this class together, I haven’t said a single word to this girl since our run-in at the cafeteria. Something about the way she talks rubs me the wrong way. “Nah, I don’t do new leaves. I much prefer the old autumn crunchy ones that you can jump into with a satisfying crunch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more pressing matters to deal with than talking to you… like daydreaming.”

 

The lamia’s face twists with rage as I can’t help but smile at my handiwork. “Well, I was going to graciously offer to partner up with you, but now you can go fu--”

 

“Looks like everyone’s all paired up, you all have two weeks to prepare your thirty-minute lessons. For today, figure out which chapter you’d like to sign up to cover. We’ll be going in sequential order so the later chapters will have a bit of extra time to prepare but the material will be more difficult.” Ms. Quinn’s voice retains its unexplainable whimsy and her feline tail swishes back and forth as she recites what must be a well-used script from memory, her eyes never leaving the pages of her magazine.

 

“Paired up? But we’re not--”

 

“Coolio, looks like we’re partners now. I look forward to you carrying me to my one passing grade, oh great and wise one.” My words do nothing to assuage the confusion of the lamia as her mouth hangs open in stunned disbelief. That’s right lady, take it all in, looks like you’re stuck with ole W. A moment of silence for your GPA… and we’re done. “What’s the matter, Libby? Cat-teacher got your tongue?”

 

Clenching her hands tightly into fists, the end of the lamia’s tail starts whacking the tile floor like a child stomping, not loudly enough to cause a scene, but just enough to be hilariously adorable. Wait, adorable? No, definitely not the word I’m going for… maybe aggravating? Yeah, that’s better. “This is so not fair.” Yeah, life’s not fair, sister, get used to it. “I’m gonna talk to Ms. Quinn right now, I refuse to accept this!”

 

One brief conversation with our teacher later, Libby comes back, begrudgingly accepting our situation. While normally I’d be content to just coast and throw something together in the eleventh hour, I can tell my new partner is a bit more serious about… you know, not failing. We pick one of the first available chapters to get the whole ordeal over with as soon as possible and divide up the material that needs to be covered.

 

“Alright, good, we have a plan. So help me, W, if you screw around and I end up failing…”

 

Rolling my eyes and shrugging I rattle off in a monotonous tone, “Yes yes, grievous bodily harm, possibly death.” I feel my eyes roll involuntarily. “At a certain point, the constant threats just lose their punch, ya know? Where’s the terror, where’s the pizzazz, where’s the va va voom?”

 

When I say something stupid, basically ninety-nine percent of the times I open my mouth, I expect one of two reactions: begrudging laughter or absolute annoyance. What I don’t see too often is a solemn stare. “I wouldn’t threaten to hurt you… or anyone else. Not seriously. I -- I’m not like her… Not anymore.”

 

With what little context I have for Libby and the school I’m in, I can only assume that ‘her’ is our mutual scarlet acquaintance. “Chill out, Libster, I didn’t actually think you were going to hurt me. Sorry if that struck a nerve.”

 

“It’s fine, I just -- Libster?” After I drop my accusation, the lamia lightens up once again.

 

“You don’t like it? How about Libmeister? I mean, we’re working on a project together, that practically makes us best friends. It’s only right I get to call you a nickname.”

“We are not best friends… or any friends, and you can call me Libby! Only. Libby.” She seems pretty set on this… oh well.

 

“Lib Libby Liberheimer Schmidt?”

 

The snake woman accidentally lets out a small chuckle before twisting her face into a scowl. “Can we please just get back to work?” Mhmm, I totally saw that smile.

 

“Sure thing, Libb--inator.”

 

My new partner half sighs and half hisses, realizing that this isn’t going to end anytime soon.

 

***

 

Arriving home, I’m greeted by my overly energetic parents in an even more sickeningly good mood than usual. “Walt, my boy, you won’t guess what just happened!” My mom, a mousy bookworm with a tall body and a ferret’s tail bounces up and down beside me. “Come on, guess, I bet you won’t get it.”

 

“Stop torturing the boy and tell him, Lola!” My dad, who normally carries himself with the poise and dignity of a Victorian gentleman at high tea with the queen, spins his head like he’s about to spit out some pea soup. Don’t worry, his head’s not about to fly off, he’s just part owl… but damn, it’s still creepy when he does it like a wind-up toy that never runs out of steam.

 

Going along with mom’s usual games, I shrug. “We win the lottery or something? Can’t say I’d object to being an overnight millionaire.”

 

Mom’s skipping immediately stops. “That’d totally be better than our actual news. Oh, shoot, now you’re going to be disappointed!”

 

“It’s still a big deal, dear. Just tell him.” Even after twenty years of marital bliss, Dad still can’t seem to keep up with mom’s boundless energy.

 

“Your brother is asleep right now… he’s metamorphosing!”

 

… Alright, before we get to my reaction, I just have to clarify. I love my brother. He’s like… well, he’s like a brother to me. Guess that should go without saying, but whatever. We’ve always gotten along, no major feuds to speak of, sibling rivalry is all but nonexistent in our home. All in all ten outta ten, would be forced by familial ties to spend a childhood with him again.

 

Anyway, he’s also a complete dweeb. And you know if I’m calling someone a dweeb, they’re a crunch-dweeb supreme with extra dork sauce. Once again, love him to death, salt of the Earth, great guy... but really? My younger brother is metamorphosing before me? Are you fucking kidding me!? “Oh hell no!!!” Without any thought for how my overblown reaction might affect my parents who are beaming with pride, I make a mad dash for Franky’s room. I don’t care if I have to wake the motherfucker up mid-transformation, I’ll be damned if he gets to become an absolute badass before me!

 

Literally kicking in my brother’s door, I storm in to find a very conscious, very different man. “Franky?” Stretching out in the bed before me is a large guy with brown scales running up his arms and legs and a huge freaking dome of a shell on his back. “Holy shit.”

 

Slowly examining himself, Franky starts cracking up in his usual over the top way. “Hot damn, I look good, don’t I, Wally?” Honestly, yeah. His face seems to have filled out and matured during his extreme power nap and he’s easily gained a foot of height. People looking at the two of us would probably assume he’s the older of us now… ouch, right in the pride.

 

Choking back all of my misplaced anger and seething resentment, I force a smile onto my face to say. “Hey, congratulations, bro. Good for you!” I mean it. If anybody deserves to be completely happy and content with themselves, it’s him… I just wish I could share in the good fortune.