Monster High: A New Start (Male Reader)

Disassembly

Sporting a most miserable expression, Mr. D’eath, a middle-aged skeleton, shuffled into the waiting area. He was the physical and mental embodiment of melancholy, so much so that he could not even recall the last time he had smiled, let alone laughed. Standing with hunched shoulders and a low-hanging head, Mr. D’eath attempted to wrangle the students lingering nearby.

However, instead of simply calling to them or even whistling at them, he sighed. And though the sighs began softly, they soon grew quite loud and aggressive. Why, the man was practically wailing before he was able to rally the monsters into a small group around him.

You had lead Rochelle to the Vampitheater where the other students who had applied for the dorms had gathered. Bloodgood couldn't take everyone into her home, after all.

Mr. D'eath: Hello, students. I hope looking at my bony face and listening to my flat voice does not depress you. But if it does, I understand.

The glum man then looked at the ground and began sighing again, leaving the students quite bewildered. You had only briefly spoken to D'eath once before. This was indeed depressing.

Mr. D'eath: I guess I should tell you which rooms you’re in.

He spoke painfully, as if the mere act of speaking was zapping every last drop of energy he possessed.

Rochelle was instantly mesmerized by the gloomy man, taking his every sigh and frown to heart. A helpful and proactive gargoyle, she found glum and woeful people difficult to be around without giving advice.

Mr. D'eath: As you can see, there is a ghouls’ section and a boys’ section. Boys are not to visit ghouls, and ghouls are not to visit boys. Now then, the Chamber of Ghoulery and Foolery has been assigned to Rose and Blanche Van Sangre from Romania.

Tall and sinewy identical twins with raven hair and ashy skin, both dressed in floor-length polka-dot dresses and black velvet capes, pushed to the front of the group.

Rose: Hullo, me name is Rose Van Sangre, and this is me sister Blanche Van Sangre. Ve are Romani vampires, so ve do not like to sleep in the same place more than three nights.

Mr. D'eath: I don’t care where you sleep, or even if you sleep. I, for one, haven’t had a good night’s sleep… ever.

He once again sighing dramatically.

Y/N: Oh. Identical twins. That's cool.

Blanche: Ve are not identical, and ve do not take kindly to being mistaken for one another, as ve look very different. As any imbecile can see, Rose’s hair is significantly less shiny than mine!

Blanche angrily grabbed the large gold key to her room and storming off with her sister.

Y/N: Uh, sorry?

Rochelle patted your shoulder. You didn't mean any offense by it.

Mr. D'eatg: The Chamber of Vampires and Campfires will be shared by pumpkin heads Marvin, James, and Sam.

Three petite creatures with noodle-thin limbs and jack-o’-lanterns for heads bounced up to Mr. D’eath, grabbed their golden key, and broke into song.

Marvin, James, and Sam: There once was a woman made out of water, so mean we told her ‘don’t have a daughter,’

They sang as their pet bullfrogs chirped loudly, offering the perfect bass accompaniment. It was a rather well-known fact that the amphibians were absolute naturals at maintaining rhythm.

Pumpkin heads, descendants of the Headless Horseman and therefore very distant cousins of Headmistress Bloodgood, often acted as a Greek chorus, singing about nearly everything they saw or heard.