A/N: Oakey! Here's the second batch! Enjoy and review!
Disclaimer: Nope, none of these are mine.
As these kids drive into the dark area, a group of six kids in black hoods stalk out. They are smoking, heads down; fists shoved in pockets. They turn a corner and head for an old discarded playground from when the academy was much younger. Weeds and poisonous bushes guard the rusty equipment. There is a slanted iron slide, a creaky swing set and a festering jungle gym, melting into a deracinated tree.
They remove their hoods and rest against a termite-infested fallen oak. The blonde girl up front seems to be the leader. She grabs a mason jar from her bag, along with a needle. She shows the crowd her hand, then cuts her palm, creating a large 'M.' She squeezes her hand before them, inserting the drops to the jar.
"A sacrifice for our Lord, Moriarty. I, Irene Adler, come to you." She shouts to the skies then passes the jar and needle to the next person in line.
The next is another girl. This one has short dishwater hair. She, too, marks herself with an 'M' and chants, giving the name Sally Carter.
The boy next to her looks almost identical to her. Timothy Carter. The next girl is an obvious tomboy. She has long hair, however, pulled in a straight ponytail. Kate Todd. The last girl is skeptical of the ritual but says nothing to its regard. She smiles as it trickles. Elle Greenway. She then passes the jar to a much younger boy. Irene intercepts.
"Moriarty! We have sacrificed our souls for the annual to come and we share with you an injured virgin. Injured as the founding world has banished him. Allow him to enter our world."
She hands him the needle and jar. The boy nods and accepts it as a priceless gift. He creates a large 'M' on his palm, fighting back a wince here and there. He shows the crowd and lets it drip.
"A sacrifice for our Lord, Moriarty. I, James Lisbon, come to you."
They wait in silence then a single raindrop falls into the jar. It sizzles and James jumps back in shock. Irene grins. The others crowd around him as Irene seals the container and hides it in the log.
"Moriarty has answered our prayer with a single acidic tear." She places a black bracelet around his wrist. She twirls it around, showing him the bloody, hand drawn smiley. "You are now a disciple. Congratulations."
As their ceremony is finishing up, walking down a pathway not too far from them, are two boys and two girls. The first girl is dressed all in Goth. The second looks like a tomboy princess. The first boy seems to be a secret agent and the other is a computer geek.
"Alright!" the geek exclaims. "Things'll be different this year!"
"You really think so, Tim?" the Goth girl asks.
"Yeah. We're seniors now!" He grins. "Hey, what classes do you guys have?"
Everyone starts shuffling through their side packs for their schedules. The secret agent finds his first.
"Criminal Justice II, Religious mythology, anatomy, forensic countermeasures and sociology."
"Hey, KC!" the Goth girl exclaims. "We've got some same classes. Only, instead of religious mythology I've got American history. And instead of anatomy, I've got healthcare."
"Why healthcare, Em?" tomboy asks.
She shrugs. "What about you, Riri? What messed up classes you got?"
"Criminal Justice II, society breakdown, sociology, drama and media. Tim?"
"Computer tech, library assistant, English, government, the usual." He finishes and watches in delight as his friends stare at him as if he'd just done some unspeakable deed. "Oh!" He laughs. "And criminal justice II."
"Jerk wad." Em shoves him. "I thought you didn't put in for crim just!"
As the group walks down the path, they pass a group of five walking down the sidewalk – going the long way to school. There are three girls and two boys. One girl is wearing high-end fashionable clothes and top-market make-up. One is wearing a stolen ensemble and the other is wearing hand-me-downs from generations. One of the boys looks excitable, wearing very dorky clothes. The other is wearing ripped jeans, brown loafers, a stained white top and a black leather jacket. They walk to the side of the school and sit under a large shady tree, at an already-set picnic table.
"Where's the cards?" Leather jacket finally speaks.
Stolen ensemble hands them to him guiltily. "How'd you do it, Kip?"
"All in the mind." He deals his crew a game of poker. "Highest cash we got?"
"I only have ten dollars." Hand-me-down sighs. "It's just the first week of school. First day, even."
"'Kay. No cash. Secrets."
"School starts in twenty minutes, Kip." Dorky clothes groans.
"Then let's get started."
Kip wins the first hand. He triumphantly awaits the secrets to filter the air.
"I stole this outfit. And the perfume."
"Alright, Erica. Everyone else?"
"I crashed the Cherry."
"Your dad know, Mash?"
"Hell no, dude."
"I kissed the baseball coach."
"Deli and Nails. Seriously?"
"Yeah. He was my sociology teacher last year. Wasn't having it, though."
"So, you know two months ago, I was on shoot in Canada?"
"The whole district knows, Lila." Kip groans.
"I was shoveling horse crap in Oklahoma."
"Oh, sick!"