Chiron Academy

Strange Tales Issue #31: Welcome to the Team

The Grey Ghoul peered over the edge of the narrow ravine, watching for any sign of the boy in its dark depths. 

Fortunately, he saw nothing, no sign of the boy's body squeezed into the restrictive corners of the slot canyon. There was no telltale scuffing of the dirt at the edge indicating a fall. Presumably, that meant he hadn't come anywhere near here. 

The Ghoul was relieved; he certainly hadn't wanted to find the boy like that. The sight of his crying mother, tears fresh in her eyes, had stuck with him throughout the search and having to present the grieving woman with a broken corpse would have been more than he could bear at the moment. Though he would bear it if he had to. He would bring that boy back. He had promised.

He had been searching for some time in an ever-expanding area for the boy, but there was still no sign at all. He was beginning to get worried. Every empty crag and cranny was a bouy to his hope, but it was also more time wasted. And as more time passed, the more likely it was that he would find him dead. Maybe if he had more of his tools, but those were back at the mansion, and in order to get those, he would have to abandon the search, leaving the boy here alone while made him there and back.

He sighed heavily as he drew away from the crevasse, making his way to a small nook that looked like it might hold a boy of his age.

His mind flipped back to the conversation he'd had with N earlier. She'd said it was no small matter to get a new protege, but this is the exact kind of situation he feared would happen if he tried to take on a student. Dropping a person ignorant to the supernatural into something was setting the scene for disaster.

Maybe, hopefully, the kid was alive. Or maybe, the kid wasn't fast enough when he needed to be. Or he made an ignorant mistake. Or maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

This kid was about the same age as he was when he signed on with his predecessor. When, if, he saw the kid's face bloodless, unmoving face, would he see his own teenage face? A hotshot teenager that thought death only happened to other people. That he was the hero of the story who would always survive until the end of the story. 

He knew better now. He'd heard an old 'Nam vet say that the only difference between a live soldier and a dead soldier was who was luckier that day. He had been lucky, that was all.  If things had turned out only a little differently, he might have turned out like that. 

Experience helped, but experience came over time, like a snowball picking up snow as it rolled down the mountain. And most people didn't bring enough to the table to start with. All too soon the little ball hits an obstacle, a tree maybe, and it breaks before it had time get going. If only he had someone who was good to start with, someone who already had enough to get them along til they had some experience. Some kind of x factor-

Suddenly, a harsh shriek split the air. Almost immediately, the Ghoul fell into a crouch, fishing his enchanted silver knuckleduster out of his coat pocket. Peering for the source of the noise around a boulder, he found a roughly six-foot, yellow, slug-like creature with a bulbous eyeball balanced on a twig like stalk. It held its gaping mouth wide open, rending the air with its furious howl.

Well, he'd fought bigger, he thought, though he didn't want to be on the receiving end of its large jaw if he could help it. 

However, just as he was about to jump out at the creature, darkness seemed to spring up out of the creature, as if all the of the light around it had been somehow sucked out of the air. The slug was still crying from inside the darkness, this time more shrill and terrified than before.

He rose warily, eager to keep his distance from the slug in case this was sort of trick.

Then he saw it.