Phrontistery Of Monster Kind - Six Feet Deep

Chapter 8

For a couple weeks in trimester three, Royse Ridge High played host to the primary school on Durilia Island. A simple way of allowing the students to meet the staff, trial out classes and get used to the change in environment. They kindly made me aware through a conversation between Ophis and Chiro of this practice a day before the children were due to come for their first trip. Eavesdropping had some perks.

Only the upper two years were attending (and their designated teachers) were subjected to this process along with all our staff who would take them next year. Staff who may pose a threat to the students or considered a risk were told to stay clear, leaving Ophis and her girlfriend ecstatic, while Chiro would have to deal with a bunch of rowdy kids who didn't respect the competition behind the sport. When this generation expected to be handed a participation trophy even though all they did was complain about the heat and miss the ball, I could see why they wouldn't be high on Chiro's list of classes.

I was surprised the vampire wasn't one of the staff who was flagged for being too frightening for students. During the day when she was teaching, she was completely covered from head to toe; the outfit changed depending on the type of day. Mayor had told me in passing her schedule was organised so the vampire only had to be outside on certain days minus morning sports training. Sometimes she was in a sun protection coat which I'd been told wouldn't look out of place in a low-budget sci-fi movie, other times she had her signature white balaclava with devil horns attached. I'm not sure which was more eery, the lack of face from the shield on the coat and the glossy fabric that never dirtied no matter how muddy the field or a winter fashion mannequin turned robber. The saving grace of the later outfit was the thick lensed glasses she wore over the top. Her contempt for children under the age of fifteen didn't help either. "Children don't dress appropriately for sports," as she wears a long coat all year round or, "they don't bring their running shoes," when most don't even have feet to wear shoes. As children go, most will find an excuse so they can sit on the sideline and chat with their friends, something I didn't think she'd let a bunch of eleven and twelve-year-old monsters do (or whatever the equivalent is to that in the specific monster years).

When I brought up the day to Mr Mors, he seemed less than pleased with the children being there. A common sentiment among the staff. He shuffled through his paperwork as he informed me, they arrive before the crack of dawn and fizzled out just before dinner, while classes are running, loading onto the private bus the primary school bought off the death of the last principal ("The lot of them are workaholics, they give Beatris a run for her money. Even in death that headmistress will be working until the money vanishes.").

"Not a single child that came from there didn't have some form of attachment issue as an adult." How many children did he know come from there to determine that?

Said school was far different to our own. They were private, only taking kids from the island and special cases. It was small, and due to that fact, there was a class of twenty each year, if that. Some residents were permanent stays, The Ghost Children, the monsters who once attended that school called them that. Despite how uncreative they were, it got straight to the point. They too would be in attendance as otherwise they would never get out.

Mors mentioned that they have been running this program for as long as he's been here (still refusing to tell me specifically how long) and those children hadn't changed since their passing. All dressed in their death outfits, more morbid when you hear how they died, which once again, he loved to keep out. None of them had a name, only nicknames they were given over the years.

"You are best to stay clear of them, the sight can be upsetting if you're unprepared."

I didn't heed his warning; I wouldn't actively avoid people simply because they were frozen in time.