Dead Love

High School

Growing fond of his new brothers and finding no immediate escape from himself, Emmit spent the greater half of the summer learning to hunt. He was reluctant to kill. He starved himself often. Every two weeks, the hunger became unbearable. Humanity escaped him. He would search for small animals in the woods. The boys suggested starting with an elderly man or suicidal teenager, urging it would be more of a mercy than anything. It would satisfy the hunger for longer periods. Emmit refused.

After a few killings, Emmit accepted his situation. Guilt blossomed when he thought to his parents. Dr. Vermin, an actual medical doctor, had taken his body, offered an autopsy report and replaced it with a cadaver. A closed-casket funeral. Emmits parents grieved. Dr. Vermin liked to make jokes like, "They think you're sleeping in a grave. It isn't entirely false."

It was a September morning, coolness whistled through the cracked kitchen window. The unit sat together at the table, half asleep, staring at Dr. Vermin's hand full of shopping bags.

Emmit looked at him for a while before breaking whatever movie-like build up the doctor was creating. "What's that, doc?" 

Dr. Vermin smiled and lifted the bags up. "These?" he questioned playfully, "Oh, my boy, these are school supplies."

Emmit was now more confused than ever. "For what? If I may ask." 

Dr. Vermin looked dumbfounded.

Emmit turned to Vince for confirmation. Vince simply chuckled. 

"No way...," Emmit breathed,

"Yeah, man." James swung his hands up, bopping to the music of his mind. "Time to see them gi-i-i-rls."

Henry jumped up to join. "Yes sir, yes sir! Them gi-i-i-irls."

All the boys were laughing, except Emmit. He stared at the group wide-eyed. "But we're...ghouls."

Vince shrugged his shoulders. "Ghouls in school, baby!"

James shook his head in protest. "Nah, man. I don't think you were listening. We are going for the girls."

"School is a precaution," Dr. Vermin explained, cutting off the groups side conversation. "As far as the world is concerned, you lot are living teenage boys. Living boys attend school. Walking around in daylight would be inviting the deputy over for tea." 

"And we don't do tea," James finished.

"But our names...," Emmit dragged. "Won't they look up our records and wonder why we're all supposedly dead? They'll contact our paren-"

"Now, now, Emmit," Vermin began. "You think a man who brings the dead back cannot work his way around a high school? You are enrolled under my last name. I am your legal guardian." 

"I don't know about this," Emmit said, unconvinced. High school and demonic creatures did not sound like a mix. 

"It isn't up for debate," Vermin said. Emmit nodded obediently. The boys took their supplies, thanked the doctor, and went out the wrestle.

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The unit stepped through the front doors of their high school together. They were enrolled juniors and "adopted brothers." Emmit could not shake his unease about reentering school.

To his dismay, he shared no classes with the unit. James gave him a pat on the back for reassurance him before heading to first hour.

Emmit shoved his hands in his pockets, head low so not to draw attention. He slouched in a seat near the back corner of the class. His attempts to blend in felt futile as a cheery brown-skinned girl plopped down next to him.