A/N: This is something I've been working on for a while. Tell me what you think. R&R. Enjoy!
Hell High – Year One Bites
Chapter One
"Motherfucking son-of-a-bitch."
I didn't usually curse in front of my younger brother, Matt, but I couldn't help myself. It just slipped out once my eyes found the dog-man standing by my locker, whistling nonchalantly and looking all around. Just what I needed to make this already bad week even more hellish: a visit from the werewolf representative from Hell High. This wasn't the first time I saw a rep from Hell High; during my freshman year, I saw a kid I vaguely knew get Selected by the vamp rep and not too long after that, another kid was Selected by the witch rep. But this was the first time I saw a werewolf rep, especially right at my locker.
A bad feeling stirred in the pit of my stomach, and I felt the sudden urge to puke out the chicken nuggets I ate for lunch. The entire world knew about the existence of vampires, werewolves, witches and warlocks, shape shifters and morphers, and seers, but that didn't mean that I was expecting a visit from one. Not that I had anything against vampires, werewolves, or any other abnormal human beings that coincided with normal humans, but I'd rather not see the deep purple suit that all Hell High reps wore whenever they Selected a teenager. Seeing the rep standing by my locker meant only one thing: that I was being Selected, and I was so not cool with that.
"John! I can't believe that you swore, and so loudly! That's so not like you. I mean-"
Matt stopped talking as his eyes followed my own to my locker. A small, strangled cry escaped his lips when he saw the werewolf and, apparently, it was loud enough that the guy heard him because the rep turned towards us with a big grin plastered on his face. I nearly peed myself when he spoke, his voice loud and boisterous, and I knew that, if it weren't after school, every single student and teacher would have heard him.
"Jonathan Felix Anthony Cena! The time has come for you to be Selected and begin the transformation out of your normal life and into your new, more spectacular one!"
And then, with a speed that was far greater than any I had ever witnessed, the werewolf crossed the hallway towards and stood in front of me all within the span of a few seconds. I stared up wide-eyed at him, too shocked to speak, to shocked to move. Still smiling, the rep grabbed my right hand and placed his index and middle fingers on the back of my hand directly in the middle. A sudden hot, searing pain erupted on the back of my hand where his skin touched mine and I sunk to the ground, howling in pain.
When I finally woke up, I realized three very important things. The first being that I was lying on the cool, tile school floor. The second was that I had a killer headache that made my head feel as though it was about to explode into a billion pieces. And the third was that Matt was bawling his eyes out beside me on the floor. Grunting, I sat up and shook my head, running my hand through my hair. And then, I stopped. Drawing a shaky breath, I pulled my hand away from my head and looked at the back of my hand. Sure enough, there was the incomplete mark that designated me as a werewolf.
Suddenly, my throat felt dry and I felt sick again. This couldn't be happening! All I wanted to do was get through my last two years of high school, graduate, go to college, become something worthwhile, and move out of my house and away from my dad. But now, all of that, everything that I had been working so hard for ever since my mom passed away four years ago, was lost. All because of that stupid rep from Hell High.
"Johnny! Thank God you're okay! Oh my God! I can't believe that that werewolf rep just Selected you! What are you going to do, John-John?" Although I felt sick and unsure and completely confused, my voice sounded strong and sure, and like that of a stranger.
"I…I dunno, Matt. We both know that I…I can't stay here or at home. I…I have to go to Hell High."
Any teen who got Selected to become a vamp, werewolf, etc., had to go and live at Hell High. Not only did Hell High have the necessary classes to help the Selected teens make it through their transformation, but it also provided large numbers of each of the five species which helped the teens make it through their transformation. I wasn't stupid; I read all about Hell High in my Current Events class last year, and one news paper article that I read said that only about ten percent of teens Selected died before Completion, and nine percent of those had little to no contact with fully matured abnormal beings. So, there was absolutely no question about what I had to do. I had to move to Hell High.
"John, you can't go! You can't leave us! Steve and Sean still need you. I still need you! Please…" Matt's cries brought me out of my funk and I shook my head and looked at him. He was a freshman and he looked every bit the part of it: small, scrawny, and still a bit pitchy, but he was my brother and I loved him. In an attempt to calm him down, I reached out to him, but he flinched away from me and scooted back. I knew it was out of instinct, but that didn't stop the bubble of hurt that his actions formed inside of me.
"Matt… It's me, come on…"
He looked at me with his big, blue eyes full of tears and I opened my mouth to speak, but voices from down the hall made us both look up. Walking down the hallway were three of the football team's biggest players and stars: Michael Vasel, Dave Batista, and Anthony Grody. I didn't pay any attention to Michael or Anthony. Dave was the only one I was focused on. Before we entered high school, Dave and I had been best friends. He knew everything about me and I knew everything about him. Dave knew I was gay before I even knew and he didn't shun me for it. And, if I was being honest with myself, I was developing feelings for him.
But all of that changed once high school started. He tried out for football; I tried out for concert choir. He became star quarterback; I became a bass singer. We grew apart and haven't really talked much since. For two whole years actually. Sure, we had classes together and stuff, but we just didn't talk. I never understood why, but thinking about it always made me feel sad and crappy, so I tried to not think about it. That never really worked too well either. Anthony's loud, obnoxious voice broke me out of my mental rant.
"Did you see how hot she looked? And she was all over you, Dave. I'm surprised you turned her down man."
"I just wasn't feeling it, Tony."
"We both noticed. What the hell's been up with you? I mean-"
"Hey! Isn't that that Cena guy?"
My heart stopped when I realized that they had seen Matt and me. We must have looked so strange, both of us sitting on the floor, but I wasn't too concerned about that. Actually, I wasn't concerned about Anthony or Michael or my new werewolf mark. All of my attention was focused on Dave. His gaze was focused solely on me and for a split second I looked down at my marked hand, hoping and praying that he didn't see it. Unfortunately for me, Lady Luck decided to go and screw me over, because Dave's eyes followed my own and he saw my mark. His eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, his gazing going from my mark to my eyes and then back again. It took a few minutes for his friends to catch on, but when they did, it was complete hell.
"Holy fucking shit! Cena's been Selected!"
"Is that a werewolf mark? For really? Oh, hell no! Dave c'mon! We've gotta get outta here man!" They both grabbed onto Dave's jock jacket and forced him backwards. Only when he stumbled and nearly fell did he tear his eyes away from me and turn around, following his friends back the way they had came. Sighing in defeat, I turned to Matt who was huddled against a locker opposite me and, with a heavy voice, I spoke up.
"Go to the library and get your books Matt. Be sure to make it home before dark."
"W-what about you, John-John?"
"I'm going to drive home and get my stuff. I can't live with you anymore."
Nodding, he got up and ran off to the library. Feeling utterly alone and foreign, I stood up on wobbly legs and turned around, walking away from my locker. I guess I wouldn't be needing that Spanish textbook after all. With heavy feet, I continued walking down the hall and out of the school, heading towards the student parking lot and, ultimately, my car.
