Awkward.
That was the only way to describe it.
I had just arrived at La Casa Del Demon Girl, backpack nice and snug, assignments ready to be torn to pieces. (Spoiler alert: The dreaded beast known as the "Essay" flashed no fangs at me this time around, so my excitement rocketed straight into that star-packed sky.)
Unlike the other night, I had no trouble dimension hopping, finding myself on the front porch in actual record speed.
But I should've known: if the night seemed to be going swimmingly, then the plot twist would peek from just around the corner, ready to bop me right on the forehead.
Such a plot twist began when I lent the front door a trio of knocks. From there, as my call to enter was heard, it was not my employer I found on the opposite side of the doorframe but his duo partner for Fortnite Fridays.
My eyes went wide with surprise.
"Uncle Slendy?" I asked.
He wore his usual attire of a business suit and armada of flexible tentacles.
For a second, he just stared, before ushering me inside, shutting the door behind.
"It's rare seeing you here," I said.
He gave his signature nod.
And like circuits triggering in my head, I began to remember why exactly I had run into him last time.
Curiosity blossomed across my visage.
"Is it another pageant?" I asked.
Part of me was already preparing to pray and pray that Agatha would come out on top.
Fortunately, though, that wasn't the case, signaled by Uncle Slendy's shaking head.
My wonder quickly melted into confusion.
"Then why . . . ?"
To answer, Uncle Slenderman sent his gaze to the front, urging me to do the same. There, my sights slithered through the kitchen, and, more notably, onto two of the most recognizable characters.
The older, Malak, stationed himself before the stove, whose surface spat thin streams of sapphire flames as it heated a modest-sized pot. In said pot squirmed something of such grotesqueness that the stench lines seemed to stick to the ceiling above. Nonetheless, my employer didn't seem to mind, stirring that viscous, black goo with only half his mind. His expression appeared . . . nervous, as if any second now, a bomb would ignite, erasing the very fabric of this universe.
And being the Sherlock I was (maybe), part of me figured that explosion-to-be consisted of the little demon girl standing right behind him. She swayed from side to side, her claws held at her waist, her face twisting into a smile brimming with anticipation.
The two had yet to utter a single word to each other, let alone even notice my arrival.
What am I looking at?
"How long have they been like this?" I asked Uncle Slendy.
To answer, he held up all five of his fingers.
"Five minutes?" I translated. "That's not too bad."
I guess I just have bad timing.
He shook his head.
"Heh?"
He emphasized his five fingers.
My jaw dropped a bit.
"Y-You mean . . . five hours?" I asked.
A nod.
I gaped at the demon father and daughter.
First of all, what the hell's in that pot that it can last for five hours!?
Before long, a new realization tumbled upon my understanding.
"You usually work with Malak, don't you?" I asked Uncle Slendy.
He gave his physical "Yes".
"But it looks like you're running late this time around?"
Another affirmation.
Once more, I went to study the duo.
I ask again: What the frick did I just walk into?
Finally, I braced myself to step into the fray. But, just as my feet would shuffle, the scene took a new turn.
"A-Agatha . . ." Malak said nervously. "D-Dear, would you mind setting the table? The stew's almost ready."
Stew? I wondered, gaping at the goo mixed with liquidy bones and literal sheets of organs. Is that what you call it? In my world, we wouldn't even give that to the homeless.
"Okay!" Agatha replied cheeringly. She launched herself towards her dad to lend him a huge ol' bear hug. "I love you so much, Daddy! I'm so excited for tomorrow!"
Once finished, the little demon girl made her way to the dining room, offering me nothing more than a small wave as she went forward with her task.
"Not even a 'Hi,'" I noted as Uncle Slendy and I approached Malak. "Now that's just cold."
My employer sighed, planting his hands mere inches from the burning stove, staring with distress at the meal-to-be. Thankfully, it didn't take him long to finally notice our presence, although the recognition seemed like nothing more than a mere side thought.
"Slenderman," he said, "my apologies for the delay. I had been planning to deal with this much, much sooner."
Uncle Slendy simply raised his hand, seemingly understanding.
"What's up with you, Malak?" I asked. "You look like Agatha just lost another pageant."
"Ah, MC," he said. "Didn't notice you there."
Cord, struck.
It's okay. I understand. It's not like I come here at a specific time every night or something.
"Daddy!" Agatha called from the other room. "The table's all set! Hurry and get in here!"
Malak just gave off visible chills, his dread wafting with stench lines just like the stew. (Er, whatever the hell that thing was, because it sure as heck was not a stew.)
He took hold of the pot.
"Let's just get this over with," he groaned.
Malak then dragged his feet to the next room over, leaving Uncle Slendy and I to wonder.
I turned to the other half of my duo and shrugged, then followed the rest of the party.
In the dining room, the table had been decorated with a fancy black cloth, the top occupied by lit candles and four sets of dining ware.
Ah, I guess we were more than an afterthought.
Agatha had already plopped onto her seat, her grin still brighter than a lightbulb.
Ergo, the rest of us followed suit, with Malak planting himself beside his daughter, whereas Uncle Slendy and I had our own side.
As soon as Malak had situated himself, Agatha scooted her chair as close as she could to him, their elbows practically rubbing against one another.
"Agatha, sweetheart," Malak said, "don't you think you're a bit in my bubble."
"But we need to be close, Daddy," Agatha explained. "That way, when tomorrow comes around, we'll be in top shape!" She proceeded to give her pa another bear hug, forcing Malak to nearly drop the pot of whatever-the-hell.
As he struggled not to spill, my stomach rumbled for the full picture, and I asked, "What's tomorrow?"
Agatha's hollow eye sockets managed to dazzle as she beamed my way.
"It's 'Bring Your Parent to School Day,' silly!" she explained. "I get to spend the whole day with Daddy tomorrow! We get to play all these games together, and he gets to see just how smart I've gotten!"
"Heh~," I sounded. "I didn't know you guys had something like that going on too."
"But of course! How else would Daddy and I be able to show that we're one of the best tag teams around!" She looked like she could spill out of her chair from all the excitement.
Malak, on the other hand, had Mister Misery slapping him across the face like a pimp.
Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle revealed themselves.
A few options to where this is headed, I concluded.
I turned to Uncle Slendy. "Are you gonna be going with Little Sl— er, Meredith?"
Uncle Slenderman slouched a little as he shook his head, and while his face offered no actual physical traits, I swear I could almost see a visible frown sprout for an expression.
Puzzle, solved.
I looked back to Malak, who more or less had a similar reaction.
Ah. So that's what's going on.
But with each passing second, Malak refused to let his truths spill out, quivering ever so unsightly.
Looks like I'll need to get this band-aid ripping started, I decided.
"What about you, Malak?" I asked. "So you're going, after all?"
"Without a doubt!" Agatha answered for him. "Daddy and I will be the first ones there!"
My employer snapped at me with an annoyed visage, but only for a second, before his understanding sunk in.
"Actually . . . Agatha, dear . . ." He struggled to get the words past his lips. "It would appear . . . that I cannot accompany you tomorrow, after all."
Instantly, like a coin tumbling to the ground, the little demon girl switched natures, her jovial spirit withering like sand being blown away.
"Huh . . . ?" she whispered.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Malak said, genuine. "Daddy will be quite busy tomorrow, so I can't go with you."
"You'll be . . . busy tomorrow . . . ?"
I could feel my own heart begin its splitting as my favorite monster girl had her soul crushed, inch by inch. She let go of Malak as she scooted her seat back to its original position. Her head now hung, she stared somberly at her empty bowl.
"I guess it can't be helped," she said softly. "I'm not really that important, anyways."
"Sweetheart, you know that's not—"
A chair pushed back, as Agatha rose to her feet.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not really all that hungry anymore."
Before anyone could comment, she rushed out of the scene to head upstairs, and I could catch only a glimpse of the glistening tears that dribbled down her cheeks.
"Agatha . . ." I said softly.
His defeat weighing him down, Malak buried his head onto the table, forcing out a heavy sigh.
"Sorry about that," I said, a little bit guilty.
"No, you were in the right," my employer replied. "If you hadn't brought it up, I don't know if I would've been able to say anything."
"So, why can't you go?"
Another sigh. "Damn quotas."
I raised an eyebrow. "Quotas?"
"This past month hasn't, exactly, been the most productive in terms of collecting souls," Malak explained. "Our usual hotspots just weren't as populated as they normally are." He then gave me a look of suspicion. "Don't tell me you've been the one warning your fellow mortals."
"First of all, I don't even know where your hotspots are," I answered. "Heck, I can't even go outside anymore because of you!"
Malak kept his gaze on me for a little while longer before realizing the truth in my response. From there, his depression ate at him like a starving liger.
"If I don't meet the requirement, Miss Lamella will have my head," he groaned.
"Your boss?" I asked Uncle Slendy.
He nodded.
I turned back to Malak. "It's rare seeing you this shaken up."
"Well, if you ever meet Miss Lamella, you'll understand," he said. "She once erased a bevy of demons with just her gaze."
Um . . . Don't . . . Don't all demons do that?
"In any case," Malak said, "I can't go with Agatha to her school tomorrow, as much as it pains me to do so. At least she'll have Meredith to be with."
Uncle Slendy gave his signature nod, along with a heaping appetizer of heartbreak.
The clouds of rain cast themselves over the three of us, and it just so happened that I left my umbrella at my dorm.
I gave my own sigh.
"Looks like it's time for this 'mere mortal' to take the stage," I said.
Both monster men viewed me with curiosity.
"What could you possibly do?" Malak asked.
"Simple, Mister Malak." I grinned. "I'll just go with Agatha tomorrow." I added to Uncle Slendy, "I'll even keep Meredith company too."
Uncle Slendy appeared delighted, whereas Malak rained down his skepticism.
"You go with Agatha?" he questioned. "Don't make me laugh. As if a mere mortal could handle her curriculum."
Dude, she has to be in elementary school or the equivalent of that. What am I gonna struggle with? Adding one to one?
But rather than spouting all that, I just argued, "Would you rather she go by herself? It'll get awfully lonely seeing everyone else with their parents."
Malak took the hint, his reluctance dying down ever so gradually.
"I suppose you'd be better than nothing," he admitted. "Plus, she has taken a liking to you." He quickly pointed his finger at me. "But don't get any funny ideas! I'm not giving my Agatha to anyone, you understand!?"
Yeah, yeah, you doting daddy.
"Duly noted," I said. "I'll keep my romance to the other mortals."
I rose from my seat.
"I'm gonna go let Agatha know while she still has the will to go to school tomorrow."
Before I fled the scene, Uncle Slendy extended his hand, to which I gladly shook it.
"Don't mention it," I said, smiling.
"MC," Malak said. "M-Maybe you're not so bad, after all."
I cringed just a little bit.
Please don't go tsundere on me. That's just weird.
"Riiiight," I replied. "I'm gonna go talk to Agatha now."
The scene cleared, I carried myself out of the dining room and up the flight of stairs that led to the second floor. The door to Agatha's bedroom offered only a slim opening, so I gave a knock.
"I'm sleeping," I heard her say from the other side.
"Well, either you're lying," I called back, "or your sleep talk is very convenient."
From her, no comeback.
"May I come in?" I asked.
A little hesitation.
Then, "Okay."
Gently, I pushed the door open, where I found Agatha buried up to her neck in the sheets of her bed. She lay facing away, but even then, I could spot the disappointment emanating from her expression.
Upon my entry, she gave no comment, so I clung to the initiative and plopped down on her mattress (which was surprisingly incredibly soft).
"I won't be able to talk much," Agatha told me. "I'm sleeping."
"Still going with that, huh?" I asked her. "Well, that is unfortunate, because if you're sleeping, you won't be able to get excited."
"What would I get excited about? I'm going to be all alone tomorrow while everyone else has their mommy and daddy with them."
"That's not entirely true," I noted. "You'll have Meredith."
"Yay," she sang flat toned. "Someone else who was ignored. How fun."
"It will be very fun. I mean, it'll be my first time going to a school for demons, but I think I'll manage."
By the second, Agatha's character blossomed from depressed to purely confused.
"Huh?" she asked.
As she turned her body to face me, I smiled.
"I'm not your parent," I reminded her. "But what do you say we have ourselves a 'Bring Your Mortal to School Day'?"
Her face softened.
"Y-You're gonna go with me?"
"Mm-hm," I hummed. "I'm pretty ahead in my classes, so I can afford to skip a day." A smugness grew into my attitude. "And this mortal right here has no essays to crank out. Impressive, I know."
Disbelief still clung to the little demon girl.
"You . . . You'd do that for me?" she asked, sitting herself up. "But you'd be the only mortal there."
"Agatha, I'm usually the only mortal anywhere we go," I reminded her. "Plus, I have to admit that I am a little bit curious about what you do in the daytime."
In other words, I'm wondering how you always have all this energy to play games when I come over.
Before long, the little demon girl gave a small, genuine smile, gazing into her lap.
"Thank you, MC," she said. "Thank you so much."
I kindly patted her on the head.
"Don't ya mention it."
The next day . . .
Again at the front porch, except no backpack on me this time around; only me, myself, and the clothes on my back. Thankfully, I chose something warm to cover up with, since the mornings of the demon dimension offered a much different atmosphere than the night life. No darkness flowing across the skies as the stars glistened. No random howls echoing from the distance, giving my skin the typical shakedown.
Instead, a fog rolled throughout the neighborhoods, accompanied by frost that lightly blanketed the lawns and a tame breeze that made the air past my lips appear as miniature clouds. Up above, the sun gifted no shine, concealed by a dome of gray that seemed to stretch to the great beyond.
Hm, I thought. And here I was, certain daytime was just a myth.
Thnk! Thnk! Thnk! my knuckles sounded as they tapped against the door.
In no time, the mass of wood swung open, and again, the tall man of the pristine suit arrived to greet me.
I raised an eyebrow.
"You're gonna start having me think you actually live here, Uncle Slenderman," I said.
The tentacles at his backside wiggled slightly, which I could only assume signaled a chuckle.
This time, however, the faceless man was not alone, his miniature self clinging to his side.
I waved and smiled. "We meet again, Meredith."
The little girl of no facial features replied with reddened cheeks, the cuteness enhanced by the adorable, dress-like uniform she wore. She even had a tiny, violet bow pinned to her hair. A strap ran diagonally across her body, with a navy blue satchel attached at the end.
I helped myself to an entrance, stepping inside to find Malak and Agatha seated at the dining room table. Both had their breakfast laid out before them, which consisted of light green toast and blackened scrambled eggs.
This is like a twisted version of Dr. Seuss, I noted.
"Good morning, MC!" Agatha cheered as she grinned at me. Like Meredith, she, too, wore a dress-like uniform.
"Yo," I called back. "Aren't you gonna be cold in that outfit?"
"Cold?" Malak asked. "Are you kidding me? It's hotter than the Devil's potluck today."
He proceeded to give Uncle Slendy a look that screamed, Can you believe this moron?
I swear, every time I come here, my patience is tested. Next, they're gonna tell me their toast is actually the perfect color.
Malak wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"Agatha, dear, we'd better get going soon," he said. "I need to set up in my location so I can spot the easy pickings."
My employer quickly shot me a look of caution.
I raised my hands in protest.
"I didn't tell anyone," I reminded him.
He signaled his approval, and I couldn't help but sigh.
This guy has trust issues.
"Thank you for the meal," Agatha said, clearing the last of her plate. She then rose to her feet to grab a satchel from nearby, much like the one that Little Slendy showcased.
Rather than staying to clean the table, Malak just did his best to rush all of us outside, back into the supposed "hot" weather.
"Aren't you gonna clear the table?" I asked him.
"Later problems require later solutions," he justified.
Yeah, okay.
After locking the front door (with a normal key, surprisingly), my employer led us to the sidewalk. From there, he and Uncle Slenderman stood to face me and the girls.
"Have fun at school today, sweetheart," Malak said to Agatha. "I'm sorry again that I can't go with you."
"That's okay!" she assured him, wrapping her claws around my hand. "I have MC with me, so I'll be okay!"
The next second and Little Slendy had my other hand in her grasp.
Uncle Slendy just stroked her hair with his tentacle, urging the faceless little girl to blush.
"I'll see you for dinner tonight, okay?" Malak said.
"Mm!" Agatha hummed happily.
My employer then looked to me. "Good luck over there. Try your best not to get torn to shreds."
"Torn to shreds? But it's just an elementary school, right?"
No response as the two demons turned to walk away.
"They're just little kids, right?"
. . .
P-Please . . . Please say something.
As I was left with Agatha and Little Slendy, the knots in my stomach twisted like pretzels.
I have the slightest feeling that things are about to get real.
"Come on, MC!" Agatha cheered. "Let's roll out!"
And so, the three of us made our way to school, taking a stroll through the neighborhoods as we flashed through the dimensional gateways. I had asked Agatha if she usually walked to school, and she told me this was her first time.
"But I know the way," she assured me. "This is the way the bus always goes down."
"You take the bus?" I asked.
"Mm-hm. Daddy says he wants me to have a lot of experiences, and that riding the bus will help me with that."
Or he's just lazy, I thought. No way in hell I'm saying that, though.
"Then why are we walking today?" I wondered.
"Because you're with me!" Agatha answered happily. "Meredith and me have always wanted to walk, but Daddy and Uncle Slenderman say it's too dangerous. We could end up in the mortal realm, and we're never supposed to be in there."
Bruh.
Imagine being a demon capable of devouring souls, yet you're too scared to visit a place where fame is called "clout." Couldn't be me.
"But now that you're here, I believe in us!" Agatha concluded. "We know the way, but even if we did end up where the mortals are, I'm sure you'd help us out! Right, MC?"
She hugged my arm, which prompted Little Slendy to do the same.
"Oh," Agatha added. "Don't tell Daddy we walked today, though. He thinks we're taking the bus. It'll be our little secret."
Little Slendy hovered her finger over where her mouth would be.
Yo, I've been set up.
Fast forward, past a handful of gateways, and we ended up at a mini dimension that had just one structure occupying it—a mountainous castle, capable of stretching to the very ceiling of the galaxies. Bricks shaded like charcoal made up the walls, with openings all around to act as the windows. But that was only half of the eerie nature. Swarms of bats circled the pointed pillars, while living gargoyles made themselves known at various points. Their stone tridents sent shivers down my spine.
"We made it!" Agatha celebrated.
My stupefied look only grew more stupid.
This . . . this is an elementary school, right?
Farther out, at the opposite end, a small lot showed, with armored dragons soaring in and out, dropping off miniature versions of all the classic beasts. See, there was Little Frank (patched up just like his dad), Little Reaper (with his own mini scythe), and Little Pikachu (his top half sagging just a bit).
"That's your bus?" I asked. "And you don't like riding on it?"
"Gets boring after a while," Agatha argued. "And Mr. Flynn, our taker, can be so grumpy sometimes."
Man, that dragon could light me up and I'd still want a ride.
The three of us made our way to the castle's front, where a thin crowd of students and their parents ambled through a medieval doorway at least thirty feet in height. On either side stood a gargoyle, their physique burlier than the rest as they brandished dual axes.
Agatha waved at one.
"Good morning, Kleb!" she sang.
The beast turned its amber eyes to us.
"Good morning, Agatha," it replied, its voice deep and resonant. "Morning, Meredith." He squinted. "That doesn't look like Malak or Slenderman."
"This is MC!" Agatha informed. "They're gonna rock with us today!"
"Hoh~ . . ."
Like several others who had spotted me upon my arrival, Kleb had this gleam in his stare that just sang, "You're gonna have it rough today."
We continued onward.
Inside the castle, I became wrapped in the familiarity of a Hogwarts-esque setting; you know, if J.K. Rowling had decided to make her universe more appealing to the goths. Hallways wider than tunnels meant for jumbo subways, decorated with all sorts of gothic adornments and shades. Various paintings hung upon the walls, showcasing the various legends that awoke only through writing in my world. (What I would pay to see that headless horseman IRL. Then again, he'd probably just lob off my noggin. Still, though, the experience would be quite the treat.)
Agatha and Little Slendy led me through the crowd, and after a few twists here and a few turns there, after climbing staircases with incredibly fancy guardrails, we arrived at what had to be the cafeteria. Massive enough to be a house, the room had elongated table after elongated table spacing themselves across the marble flooring. To one side was a stage, its curtains closed, while towards the back, a window similar to a food truck's held the occupancy. A peculiar stench wafted through the air, but I couldn't tell if it was because of last night's stew, this morning's eggs, or a new disgrace to Gordon Ramsay altogether.
Voices upon voices vibrated off the walls, the students packing the tables as their parents/guardians stood close. Several trays had been laid out, but whatever squirmed on them, I knew, couldn't be the breakfast pizza that I knew and loved.
The three of us plopped down at a table on the far side, where the mass shined a thinner side.
"We usually meet here in the mornings," Agatha explained. "This is our class's table. When the bell rings, Lucy will come get us."
Lucy? Ah, right. The invisible girl.
"Seems like a pretty sound method," I said. "So, you just sit here till then? You don't do anything?"
"Some of us eat." Agatha pointed to the window packed with lunch ladies, who may or may not have bore a striking resemblance to snake women. "But I personally don't trust it. I mean, they don't use the saber wolf's tongue when they make the paninis. That's just wrong."
Little Slendy nodded in agreement.
"Riiiiight," I concluded. "Shame on them."
"Exactly! They just don't know good taste."
A moment later and I felt a tug at my arm, and turning my head, I found Little Slendy using her tentacles to mimic writing stuff down.
"That's another thing," Agatha explained. "A few of us also try to finish our homework. Not me, though. I always finish mine the night before."
Little Slendy nodded in agreement.
"That's good," I told them. "It's always smarter to finish your homework when you still have time. You can make a bad habit out of waiting till the last minute."
"If that's the case," Agatha said, "why do you always cry about those 'essay' things that are due the next day?"
From me, a little flinch, my triumph deflating in the blink of an eye.
"Well, you see . . ." I tried to explain, nervous. Sadly, though, the right syllables couldn't find their way out.
Ergo, I just sighed as I lowered my head.
"You're right," I uttered, defeated. "Don't ever try to be like me."
In kindness, Little Slendy used her tentacles to pet my head.
"Thanks," I said.
"Good morning, Agatha," a voice sang suddenly from beside us.
The three of us shifted our attention, where we found a slim little girl standing next to Agatha. Her skin tone like light sand, she had linen cloth wrapped around the majority of her body, leaving only a portion of her face and limbs revealed. Her hair took on a shortened height, with the bangs concealing her right eye, letting only the left iris of deep amber be appreciated. She wore a uniform similar to Agatha and Little Slendy.
Agatha smiled. "Ah, good morning, Banda!"
The short-haired girl offered her hand, where a small, black jar rested between her fingers.
"Here's the Magi Ink you lent me yesterday," she said, soft spoken. "Saved my life. Thank you again."
"Don't mention it!" Agatha replied. "I had plenty to spare!"
The newcomer then locked eyes with me, her cheeks bursting with red within mere microseconds.
"Yo," I said kindly.
"H-Hello," she answered, looking away.
I ran my fingers across my cheek.
Do I have something on my face?
"Don't mind her, MC," Agatha told me. "Banda here is just really shy. She barely raises her hand to answer questions."
Dude, same, and I'm a legal adult.
"By the way, Banda, this is MC," Agatha said. "MC, this is Banda the Mummy. She helps me a lot when it comes to math!"
"Not to sound like I was stereotyping," I said, "but I really thought mummies were just zombies wrapped in bandages."
"T-That's a common misconception," Banda noted. "B-But we're more intelligent than that. That's n-not to say that zombies aren't intelligent! Patches from Class C is . . ."
The rest of Banda's message became lodged in her throat, her face scrunched as the redness like cherries washed over.
"You don't have to feel so guilty," I told her. "I'm not a zombie. Just your average mortal."
Instantly, the mummy girl's eyes dazzled.
"A-Are you really a mortal?" she asked.
"I . . . I am," I answered, surprised. "You seem amazed."
"Banda loves mortals," Agatha explained. "Both her parents work in the mortal world, so they're always telling her about it."
"They don't let me go with them, though," Banda said, saddened. "Says it's too dangerous."
What's up with all these magical creatures being afraid of us? Believe me, we'd break in one bite if you tried.
"Um . . ." Banda began. "Is it . . . Is it true that K-pop is really popular?"
"I'd say so, yeah," I said. "Everyone knows about it, at least."
Smoothly, the awe in Banda's visage erupted.
"R-Really?" she asked. "Thank goodness. I thought I was getting into something weird."
I smiled. "I'll be sure to give you a CD sometime."
The mummy girl lowered her body in a bow. "Thank you very much."
With that, she waved us goodbye and headed back to her parent.
"What's K-pop?" Agatha asked.
"Just some music," I answered.
Last thing I need is for Agatha to beg me to sing along with her every time I come over. I can barely sing songs well in English as is.
Before we could elaborate on the topic, a symphony of bells rang throughout the cafeteria, the sounds more angelic than what I'd expect from a school for demons.
"It's go time!" Agatha cheered, clenching her claws into fists.
A minute later and several distinguished figures ambled into the scene, such as a human woman with blue hair dressed in white general's apparel and a person completely covered in bandages as they brandished a scythe, their torso covered by a brown hoodie.
Each carried themselves to a table, and as for ours, we had the floating feminine apparel stop by, school-appropriate, of course, complete with a handheld white board and black marker.
The marker uncapped itself.
Good morning, class! Lucy wrote. Nice to see all of you again! And good morning to you parents!
"Good morning, Lucy!" some of the students called back.
The white board was cleaned.
Then,
Please follow me to Miss Rachnera's room :)
In unison, everyone at the table rose to their feet, and as the floating whiteboard hopped away, we followed suit.
Ambling past the other tables, students from the other classes gawked at me, as if I was the Bigfoot of their universe. I gave an awkward smile, but that only earned me the ire of their parents. Apparently, monsters don't like it when their children chat with strangers, which is fair. But let's be real: Would you mind if your child, who was capable of many, many things, spoke with the equivalent of a three-dimensional stickman?
I didn't think so.
"This is gonna be so fun," Agatha said as she held my hand.
Here's hoping.
The lot of us traveled like a herd, climbing up and down an egregious amount of stairs (more than to the cafeteria, in fact), and scurrying through hallways brightened only by ultra-strength candles.
In time, however, our efforts did pay off, for as Lucy reached the end of our fifth hallway, she stopped, signaled by the motionlessness of the whiteboard and marker.
Beside her, a towering door of darkened oak smirked.
(Not literally. But knowing this place, I wouldn't blame your confusion.)
Come on in! :D Lucy wrote as she held the door open for us.
In a line, we shuffled into the classroom, and upon my entry, my shock and awe spiraled to the very heavens! Finally, a pillar of the demon dimension presented itself before me! The nest where the little monsters would learn and grow to be the definition of "fear" in my world! And it was so . . . so . . . normal.
To my surprise, I found myself in a space that looked no different from any other elementary-grade classroom. Heck, I could even mistake this place for my own from back in the day. Wooden desks rested upon the carpeted flooring, arranged to face one another in groups of four. No windows to peek through, but plenty of brightness from the panels of light fixed into the ceiling. (What happened to the candles?) Motivational posters scattered across the plastered walls, mixed in with displays featuring exceptional drawings and assignments.
At one corner, a single cushioned chair rocked, with a wide, circular rug laid out before it; beyond that, a small collection of books.
In another section sat a traditional teacher's desk, and it was behind there that a new figure unveiled themself—a literal spider woman; in fact, the same one that I had noticed the night I met that teenage girl. (Monika, I think her name was.)
From the waist up, the spider lady had the characteristics of a human: a slender frame, with curves where curves mattered most; pearl-white skin; short, violet hair. The only arachnid-like trait came from her eyes—crimson, and eight for the count, although the two main ones appeared where human eyes would be. As well, her hands appeared as elegant claws. She covered up with a professional blouse.
As for the lower half, she bore a crow-black body, massive in size and complete with eight legs and an apparent armored casing. A skull design had been etched into her abdomen.
At our arrival, the spider woman joined her hands together and smiled.
"Welcome, everyone," she said, her voice silk like. "It is nice to see so many new faces joining our class today. If I could have you parents stand near the back of the room, that would be much appreciated."
Thus, the big kids relocated ourselves to the back wall, standing in line as if we were preparing the mugshots. Meanwhile, the students waltzed to their seats and plopped down. Agatha and Little Slendy sat next to one another, grouped up with Banda and a ghost-like girl wearing a pink crown.
Once everyone had settled, the spider woman made her way to the front of the class.
"Good morning, boys and girls," she sang.
"Good morning, Miss Rachnera," the class called back in unison.
"As you know, today is a very special day. Are you ready to show your moms and dads just how smart you all are?"
"Yeeees!"
"I'm glad to hear that! In that case, why don't we start with our morning exercise!"
Miss Rachnera grabbed herself a marker, then began to write something on the white board behind her.
As she did so, the students reached into their desks to fish out standard composition notebooks.
No Necronomicons, huh?
Of course, the text Miss Rachnera displayed took a hard left from "English." Odd, yet mystical enough that even the Egyptians would have to put their money where their mouths are. By the spacing of the symbols, though, I could tell a prompt had been written.
"Here you go!" Miss Rachnera cheered once she had finished. "Could we have someone read this aloud?" She scanned the class, before her focus landed on the ghost-like girl beside Bamba. "Booette?"
The ghost girl studied the board.
"What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up this morning."
Miss Rachnera beamed. "Good job! Now, I'll give you all three minutes, so do your best to write down the best answer you can! We'll share some afterwards, okay?"
"Yeeees!"
Scribbling went underway as the students jotted in their notebooks. Surprisingly, their writing utensils consisted mainly of normal pens and pencils.
As the children worked, Miss Rachnera shifted her attention to the parents. Oh, and me.
"I like to have the students do a quick exercise every morning," she explained. "It helps get their brains moving for the day."
Some of the parents nodded in agreement, and seeing as I didn't want to be the odd man out, I did the same.
Then again, if that was the case, I would've kept my butt in bed.
Before long, Miss Rachnera clapped her hands together.
"Okay, my children," she sang. "Why don't we have a brave volunteer share with us what they first thought of this morning?"
Instantly, several hands shot into the air.
"My, how splendid," Miss Rachnera said. "I guess we'll have to pick more than one."
Thus, one by one, the students (the ones who volunteered, anyways) repeated what they had written down. The answers varied, from one wolf boy (not Wolfette, sadly) starving for a giant log of meat, to the ghost-like girl, Booette, wanting to beat her scare record. (No clue what that meant, and I didn't plan on asking.)
To my surprise, or maybe not, Agatha had flung her claws into the air, and when Miss Rachnera chose her, the little demon girl grinned.
"I thought about how happy I was to spend the whole day with MC!" she cheered.
Beside her, Little Slendy nodded in agreement.
The attention quickly snapped onto me, and my cheeks went rosy as I nervously rubbed the back of my head.
A few more answers later, and we had finally finished the commencement of the day! Hooray!
Miss Rachnera clapped her hands together once again.
"Now then, my children, let us move on with what you'll all be doing today," she said. She surveyed the parents. "How would you all like to work with your moms and dads today?"
Excitement buzzed like bumblebees, with some kids literally shaking in their seats.
"If that's a 'yes,' which it most certainly seems to be," Miss Rachnera continued, "then you're in luck!" Then, to the parents: "Could I have you join your children at their desks? You're going to be working on some assignments with them."
In unison, the grownups (and me) strolled to their loved ones.
As I approached my two partners, Agatha couldn't help but grin from cheek to cheek.
I knelt beside them.
"Long time no chat," I said.
The little demon girl was quick to give me a hug.
"I missed you!" she sang.
Little Slendy followed suit, replacing the words with reddened cheeks.
"But I wasn't gone for that long," I chuckled.
Miss Rachnera soon called for the attention back, ushering both parent and child to quiet down.
"Now, then," she said, "as a special treat, you're all going to be making your very own paper monsters!"
Some of the students ooh'd and ah'd, especially as Lucy began handing out sheets of colored paper and sticks of glue.
"Think of your favorite celebrity and try to remake them in this class!" Miss Rachnera urged. "You only have twenty minutes, so decide fast and get to crafting!"
Her instructions finished, the children and their parents quickly started brainstorming, decorating the classroom with chatter that vibrated across the air.
"Let's go with Venom!" Agatha suggested.
"Venom?" I repeated.
"He's one of the best brawlers in the Bash 'Em League!" she explained. "His moves are always one hitters!" Agatha then took a pose and growled in a sinister voice, "We are Venom."
Apparently, I was the only one out of the loop, because even Little Slendy couldn't hide her excitement, her tentacles twirling in every direction possible.
"Well," I said, "as long I can make the parts I would recognize, I'm fine with that plan."
Agatha shot her claws into the air. "Yay!" Then, to a more leader-esque form. "MC, you work on making his super sharp teeth. Meredith, you make the eyes. I'll work on his body!"
I fired a salute. "You got it, Captain!"
From there on, the three of us let our gears grind.
Well, two of us did.
(I'll give you a hint: I wasn't one of them.)
As it turned out, scissors had not been given out. At first, I figured Lucy had just forgotten about them. But as I watched the other students slice through the paper in their own ways i.e. with razor sharp claws (Agatha) and sharp . . . tentacles (okay, Little Slendy), I realized just how much I'd been set up.
This challenge just shot from level one to fifty real quick.
Ergo, as the other groups raced through their projects, I was forced to bend the paper and lick the edges to get clean tears. (Couldn't just rip the pages right then and there; what did you think I was? A savage?)
"Okay!" Agatha cheered, holding up her completed inhuman paper frame. "All done!"
Little Slendy followed suit, presenting her crafted misshapen eyes.
The duo then turned their attention to me.
All right! I thought. I got two teeth!
I proudly held up my pair of even triangles.
"How many do you need?" I asked.
Agatha rubbed her claw against her chin.
"Hmm," she hummed. "About sixteen, I think."
Well . . . sh*t.
My confidence deflated, I dragged myself back to the drawing board.
"You can do this, MC!" Agatha cried. "I believe!"
Sweat raced down my forehead, my fingers trembling as my tongue dried out. Who knew licking paper could be such a daunting task?
Sadly, though, before my efforts could pay off, Miss Rachnera clapped her hands together.
"Okay, class," she said, "that's time. I hope you all made something you're proud of!"
Whereas the other students and their parents stared in awe at their projects, I sighed, my sights filled with nothing but seven paper triangles. (At least they were even?)
"Sorry, guys," I said to Agatha and Little Slendy. "I should've brought my own pair of scissors."
Nearby, the snickering of children scurried into my eardrums.
"Don't mind!" Agatha told me, enthusiastic. "We'll get the next one!"
Little Slendy curled her fingers in confidence.
"You guys . . ."
You're more motivational than the speakers at my university!
Next up on the list, Miss Rachnera had us do a math race. Basically, every pair of parent and child would receive thirty math equations they'd have to solve. Fifteen each, or in our case, ten each. First to solve them all wins.
Math, huh? I thought. Time to redeem myself.
And even as Lucy handed out the half sheets of paper, I found myself fired up. The problems were simple: three plus three, four times eight.
Needless to say, I had this in the bag.
Before we began, Agatha handed me a special pen, which she had dipped in the thing Banda had returned to her this morning. The Magi Ink.
"If you write down the wrong answer," Agatha explained, "the color will turn red. Miss Rachnera says that speed is important, but she wants more black than red."
I smirked. "I gotchu, fam."
"Ready~ . . ." Miss Rachnera began. "Go!"
I studied my worksheet.
3 x 7 = _
Too easy.
I jotted down 21.
The ink quickly turned to red.
Heh? Wait, what?
Maybe I didn't write it down clearly.
Next question: 5 + 9 = _
Despite the need for speed, I took my sweet time writing down 14, possibly with more care than Da Vinci had with Mono Lisa.
Ink went red.
Nani!?
Yo, man, I think my ink is broken.
Curious, I glanced over at Agatha's answers.
27 - 18 = 6
The ink remained as black as a crow.
Um . . . No, it ain't.
6 + 6 = 13
4 x 3 = 15
14 - 6 = 7
What kind of backwards-ass math are we doing here? Because I am one billion percent certain that six plus six is twelve! A one followed by a two!
Meanwhile, true to her description, Banda swept through her equations and was now sitting idly for her dad to finish.
That's one smart mummy.
A little later and the mummified father lived up to his daughter, allowing the duo wrapped in bandages to win the math race. Or in this world's case, the number race, because what we just did was not math.
I buried my head onto the desk, beaten down.
"Sorry, guys," I groaned. "Again."
"Don't mind!" Agatha assured me. "You're getting there!"
Once more, Little Slendy waved her fist in determination.
Why? I wondered. I'm a college student. A college student. And I'm feeling dumber than an elementary student right now.
Needless to say, the situation didn't lighten as we cranked through more assignments.
The spelling check, where we had to move around floating symbols to create words.
Spoiler alert: I can't, exactly, touch said floating letters. More of a demon thing.
The grammar check, where we had to find grammatical errors in sentences.
Spoiler alert again: I can't read Demonese, so you can guess what color my ink was.
By the time we had finished the morning routine, visible smoke could be seen swirling from my head, my gears spinning harder than they ever have.
"I'm sorry I'm so useless, guys," I said to Agatha and Little Slendy. "I'm sorry I'm so useless. I'm sorry I'm so useless. I'm sorry I'm so useless."
"Don't mind!" Agatha told me. "No one's perfect!"
Little Slendy wriggled her tentacles in agreement.
Instantly, my heart turned a brighter shade of red, and I almost had tears sprouting from my eyes.
"You guys . . ." I gave them the biggest bear hug in the history of bear hugs. "You guys are the nicest demons ever!"
Agatha giggled, and Little Slendy blushed.
Meanwhile, several of the other students snickered at me once again.
Miss Rachnera gathered our attention.
"First and foremost," she said, "I'd like to thank you parents for helping your children with our morning routine! Because of you, I'm sure they gave a million times more effort than usual!"
Some parents grinned, giving their children warm side hugs.
"We will now begin our special subject for the day," Miss Rachnera continued. "If all of you could follow me, we can make our way to the library."
"Library?" I asked.
"Mm!" Agatha hummed. "Once a week, we get to check out books to read!"
I wonder what sort of stories you guys have. "The Little Monster that Could"? "The Bat in the Hat"? Either way, I'm rather curious. Besides, I need something to take my mind off my abysmal fails from earlier.
"Now, then . . ." Miss Rachnera smiled. "Shall we head out?"
"Ohhh~!" several of the students cheered in unison.
Single file, the class ambled out of the room, and after another series of twists and turns, ups and downs, we arrived at a space more grand than the Museum of Modern Art. (From what I'd seen in the online pictures, anyways. What? You think a broke college student would be making trips to MoMA? Funny.) Bookshelves stretching to the very ceiling acted as the walls, the spines of novels covering every single shade imaginable. Handheld pixies fluttered across, pulling books out for patrons and supplying the shelves with missing material. The scent of crisp pages swirled into my nostrils—a sensation I found most pleasant.
"Whoa . . ." I uttered, my awe twirling around me like a whirlwind of stars.
"We have every author imaginable in here," Agatha told me. "I'd recommend Red Bone, Blue Bone by Dr. Moreau. A classic!"
"And we have multiple copies," a voice beside us said, "in the off-chance that such a story grows in popularity."
I turned my head to find a towering figure stationed behind a circular desk of blackened oak. He bore a shell-like body hued white, his face equipped with the features of straightened teeth and a line of stitches running vertically down the middle. For clothing, he wore an olive-green cloak.
Agatha waved. "Hello there, Mr. Golem!"
"Hello, Agatha," the figure replied. "I see that is not your father with you but a mortal."
"Yeah! And they're the best one in the whole universe!"
"I bet my dad's better!"
Suddenly, from the golem's cape, a little girl emerged. Human, just like me, although she wore the outfit of a minotaur. Her hair dark, as well as a bit short, she had a vibrant green roaring in her irises.
"There you are, Somali," the golem said.
"My dad can read a hundred books in the blink of an eye!" the little girl shouted.
Agatha narrowed her eyes. "Yeah. Well, MC makes the best stew to ever be tasted!"
Even though I only made it once . . .
The minotaur girl didn't let up. "Yeah. Well, my dad can—"
Her words quickly died down as the golem squished her face with his fingers.
"Somali," he said, "this is a place for reading and quiet discussions, not boisterous chatter."
"S-Sorry . . ." the minotaur girl surrendered.
"My apologies for my daughter," the golem said to us. "Please, enjoy your time here."
"R-Right . . ." I replied, right as Agatha and Little Slendy dragged me away.
On the way out the scene, Agatha stuck her tongue out at the little minotaur.
In turn, the minotaur clenched her teeth in frustration.
I gave the golem a look that said as clear as day, Kids. Am I right?
. . . Never thought I'd be saying that so soon.
"Remember, you only have one hour to browse around," Miss Rachnera informed us. "When you've chosen a book, check it out and hand it to me. Then, you may head to the lunchroom."
"You guys have lunch after this?" I asked Agatha.
"You know it!" she answered, ecstatic. "I hear they're serving mantilis pincers today! It'll be super-duper good! Huh, Meredith?"
Little Slendy waved her tentacles in excitement.
Please stop looking so enthusiastic, I begged. You're gonna make me eat the food just out of pure guilt.
I decided to bring the attention back to the library.
"This place sure is big, though," I said. "I don't even know where to start."
"We got you covered, MC!" Agatha assured me. "We're gonna get you some books that blow your legs right off!"
Not . . . not literally, right?
"Don't forget: you're the one supposed to be getting a book today."
The two had me take a seat at a circular table.
"Don't mind. Don't mind," Agatha said.
Is that your catchphrase for today? I wondered.
She and Little Slendy wasted no time bolting away to the shelves to bring me back some treasures.
"Ah . . ." I said softly once they had already gone. "Probably should've asked for something in English."
I absorbed the sheer scope of the place of books in all its glory.
Really, though, this place is ginormous. I get the feeling I could find just about anything in here.
But knowing those two . . . Agatha, especially . . .
I could already see it—the demon realm's greatest cookbook, plopped right down before me.
Something like that . . .
"You look lost," a voice said beside me.
I swiveled my attention to find a group of children stationed beside me. Just the children.
"I wouldn't say lost," I replied. "Just waiting."
The lead kid, a zombie-esque boy, shrugged.
"I dunno~," he said. "You were lookin' pretty lost in class today. I mean, you can't even cut a piece of paper? Lame!"
I cringed at the memory.
No need to remind me. Next time, I'm definitely bringing scissors. I'll even bring a spoon and fork if I have to, just for the safety!
Next thing I knew, the zombie boy handed me a thin book.
"Here," he said. "Maybe you can handle this one. Then again, you look stupider than my little sister, so . . ."
The rest of his posse snickered.
That wasn't very nice.
I studied what I'd been given, and would you believe, not a single word, from front cover to back, covered my greatest language—plain, old English!
If you're gonna insult my intelligence, at least be fair about it, you little sh*t.
The zombie boy smirked. "Heh~. What's wrong? Can't even open the book? Are you that dumb?"
I clenched my jaw in annoyance.
I wanna punt this kid across the damn graveyard.
"Really? In that case, why don't you try reading this book, Hopkin?"
Another new voice.
Another new character in the fray as the girl in the minotaur outfit, Somali, joined the scene.
She slammed down a book thicker than three Bibles onto the table, shooting off a hefty thnk!
She then smirked at the snarky kids, who now wore visages of anxiety.
"What's up?" Somali asked. "Too scared to even touch it? Seems pretty lame to me."
The head honcho, Hopkin, sucked his teeth in frustration. "Come on," he told his lackeys. "Let's get outta here."
The rude goonies melted from the scene, leaving Somali with a triumphant grin.
"You're one crafty cookie," I told her.
She beamed. "I get that a lot!"
I looked to the faux dictionary she delivered.
"Nice distraction," I said. "Did you just randomly pull this off from the shelves?"
"Not exactly," Somali answered. She pointed towards her dad, the golem. "My dad says that you'd like this one, so I brought it over."
Listen, I don't know, exactly, what kind of vibes I give off, but I'm pretty sure it aint the "slap me with thousands of pages" one.
Upon a closer inspection, though, I noticed something that brought tears of joy to my eyes: English! Plain, old English! (I love you, English!)
The book's title spread across my vision:
One Thousand Stories to Tell in the Dark.
Accompanying the letters was the Grim Reaper giving a thumbs up.
If this is the guy that's gonna meet me when I die, I thought, I think I'm gonna be just fine.
Just then, Agatha and Little returned, their hands packed with stacks of book thin and thick.
"We're back!" Agatha announced, dropping off her haul. "Now, MC, lose yourself in these fine cookbooks!"
I freakin' knew it.
As you may have imagined, I spent the next good forty minutes reading aloud recipes as if I read from children's tales. Who knew a little demon girl's eye sockets could light up from the components of a "Rockin' Tockin' Ribcage"?
I don't know who makes these, but they need to be stopped.
Afterwards, after my pseudo children had picked out their own stories (Agatha with another cookbook and Little Slendy with a Moby Dick-esque tale), the three of us headed to the lunchroom for some grub.
And you know what comes after lunch?
Recess!
Or in my case, being chased by a monster girl with razor-sharp claws and a face that just screamed, "I wanna eat you alive."
The playground consisted mostly of a dense forest with lamps scattered throughout, despite the time being near day. Ergo, we decided to play some hide-and-seek, with Agatha as the malicious "It." But when she found me, she didn't just move on. No. This girl went for the kill, chasing my butt around until the skin on my legs burned off. The amount of times I wailed, "We've already been through this!" was countless. But that fact didn't matter when Agatha's maniacal laughter zipped through the leaves like juiced-up hornets.
Eventually, after the blessing of God had rained down upon me and I lost my assailant for a moment, I took the chance to rest at a nearby bench. My heart pounded a billion beats per second, and my breaths literally scratched my lungs with each exhale.
"'Bring Your Mortal to School Day,'" I choked. "More like 'Bring Your Inhaler'! She just doesn't let up."
To be fair, at least she doesn't have backup like she did last time.
That two-faced teddy bear squirmed into my thoughts, slapping away every iota of my good mood.
"Upupupu!"
Just thinking of that laugh pisses me off.
"Excuse me, but is this seat taken?"
Back to reality, as a voice called out from beside me. A second later and I noticed a thin man wrapped in bandages standing nearby. A gray mustache protruded from his upper-lip area.
"N-No," I said, a bit nervous. "Help yourself."
The man smiled. "Thanks a million."
He plopped himself down next to me, taking the position of someone who'd just sprinted a hundred miles.
"My apologies for the intrusion," he said. "Banda is usually so quiet, but when it comes to tag, she becomes very energetic."
You're telling me . . .
"I see," I said. "You must be her father, then?"
"That, I am. And you are MC, correct?"
"That, I am," I repeated.
"How are you liking your time here, MC?"
I smiled shyly. "Well, other than the fact that I'm failing at every assignment there is, I'm having a lot of fun. And Agatha and Meredith don't seem to mind my blunders, so I'm happy about that."
"Is that so?" Banda's father sent his gaze to the forest's rooftop, where strands of the day managed to seep through. "If I may be honest, I was a little worried when Banda told me about you this morning. No offense, but you mortals aren't, exactly, the most accepting people around."
"Well, you're not wrong there," I admitted. "Most of us don't like things that are different, things we don't understand."
"But you're not like the rest of them, MC," he told me. "I've been watching you all morning, and I could tell that you were genuinely having a blast. You care about those girls, despite how scary they may seem. You have a good heart.
"Many of us fall within your depiction: violent, crude, bloodthirsty. But some of us just want to live in peace, to explore the unknown, to become more than what we are. My ancestors couldn't help but believe that tearing away at the mortals was the way to happiness. But Banda is different; she's intrigued by your existence, and she's well on her way to becoming more wise than her old man here."
He offered his hand.
"Thank you, MC, for treating us as more than just monsters."
The sincerity in his syllables spiraled across my heart, and for just a moment, I could envision it: a space where demons and humans held hands, where our souls rang in unison, like a song crafted by the greatest of symphonies.
I kindly shook his hand.
"No need to thank me," I told him. "I've been in this dimension for a while now, so I can tell that, for the most part, you and I, we're one in the same. Just living through different eyes is all."
Right on cue, my favorite little demon emerged from the bushes nearby, shooting chills right down my spine.
"Found you~," she groaned creepily, her claws ready to shred.
However, just before the chase could commence once again, the school bell rang, echoing through the forest.
"Tch," Agatha sounded, sucking her teeth. "Game's over already."
The Lord has blessed me today! I sang, my lungs thanking me for the well-needed rest.
A second later and Banda appeared from the opposite end of the area.
"Father," she said, "it's time to go."
"It would appear so," Mr. Mummy replied, lifting himself to his feet. Then, to me: "Good luck with the rest of the day, MC. May we both make it to hear the final bell."
"Amen to that."
From there, the four of us (soon five as we found Little Slendy along the way), carried ourselves to the certain area of the playground, where the students lined up to be escorted, much like this morning.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," Agatha said.
"I'm surprised you didn't go during our game," I noted. "You chugged three of those milk cartons like they were going out of style."
Confusion fluttered from her expression. "But that wasn't milk . . . ?"
"I know. But for the sake of my sanity, we're calling it 'milk.'"
The two demon girls glanced at one another, shrugging as if I was the odd one out, which by this point, I was beyond used to.
"You're a weirdo, MC."
"Guilty as charged. Now go use the bathroom before you wet yourself."
Agatha smirked. "Wet myself? What do I look like? A hostage?"
That's . . . terrifying.
"Just go," I begged.
"Right-o!" The demon girl of claws ambled away to take care of lady business.
Now finished with her business, Agatha went to wash her hands in the sink.
"Maybe I should try to scare MC when I get back," she considered. "They'll probably be the one wetting themself, then. Hehe."
"Can you believe she actually brought that loser along?"
Voices, sprouting just a little ways away from the bathroom entrance.
"Right? They can't do anything. Not like us."
"Agatha's a weirdo for bringing them here. Might as well have brought a stick instead! It'd be just as good!"
Chuckles all around, as if the joke of the century had showered their space.
Her anger bubbling, Agatha rushed to the crowd of rudeness, and it was there that she came across a group of boys.
"Ah," one of them said, pointing at the newcomer. "Look who it is."
"What, Agatha?" another asked. "Trying to get away from MC? I wouldn't blame you."
More chuckles all around, scratching the nerves of MC's biggest fan.
"You're wrong," she said softly. "MC is cool."
"They're useless!" one of the boys cried out. "They can't even cut a piece of paper without taking five years! They can't do math! They can't even read!"
"Even so . . . Even so . . ." The little demon girl scrunched her face, the tears ready to dribble down her cheeks. "MC is still awesome."
"I kinda feel bad for that mortal," one of the boys said. "They have to look stupid all day."
"What else are they good for?"
They just kept laughing and laughing, belittling the hero that Agatha had placed upon a pedestal, the one individual whom she could trust with every fiber of her soul.
"You really shouldn't have brought them, Agatha," the boys told her. "I'm surprised they don't want to leave already."
MC . . . wants to leave?
Of course they do. Why wouldn't they?
All I ever do is cause trouble for them.
Why do they even bother to stick around?
They glistened on their way down, splashing gently onto the tiled floor.
The ill-mannered quickly recoiled as they noticed the the girl that wept.
"Let's get out of here," one of them said. "Before any teachers come."
And so, they fled from the crime scene, letting the demon girl be buried beneath her guilt.
"Agatha sure is taking her time," I said, glancing around.
Lucy had already arrived, so the class had begun shuffling its feet to move out.
Little Slendy waved her tentacles in a slow manner.
"Worried?" I asked.
A nod to affirm.
"I think we'll be okay," I decided. "After all, she's one tough doughnut."
Little Slendy tilted her head in confusion.
"It's a saying," I tried to argue. "Trust."
"I'm back."
I flinched as the person missing in action appeared right beneath my nose.
"You scared the heck out of me," I told her. "I thought my skeleton was gonna pop out."
"Sorry," Agatha said. Her gaze never abandoned the ground below.
"You okay?" I asked. "You look a little down."
She just gave me a small smile. "I'm okay. Just spilled some water on myself is all."
I could spot some wet marks on her school uniform.
"I'm sure they'll dry up in no time," I assured her.
Agatha offered no signs of enthusiasm; just a feeble nod.
We returned to the classroom, where the grueling claws of failure once again dug themselves into my limbs. So much math. So much spelling. By the end of her elementary school career, I was half-expecting both Agatha and Little Slendy to come out as literary mathematicians.
Oddly enough, though, whenever I made my usual mistake, Agatha would go out of her way to apologize. She'd tell me it was all her fault, and that she'd pick the slack. And while I did appreciate a supportive friend, I couldn't help but ponder upon her expression—an amalgamation of every form of sorrow to ever exist.
In time, the signs of daytime withered away, and the awakening of evening revealed itself before us.
"It was quite the treat having you parents here," Miss Rachnera said. "I do hope you enjoyed seeing just what your child does in their day."
As the girls collected their bags, Banda and her father smiled and waved at me, a farewell that I gladly reciprocated.
Before long, the three of us found ourselves breaking the rules once again, skipping the bus in favor of a peaceful walk.
"Ahhh," I let loose, as if I had finally finished my Twelve Labors. "You guys sure do have it rough. Back when I was younger, all we had to do was stack some dang blocks. Meanwhile, you guys are trying to figure out what the blocks are made of."
"Mm."
A flimsy hum, gifted by the girl who still wouldn't dare look at me.
"Agatha," I said. "What's wrong? Seriously."
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"I wouldn't be able to call myself your babysitter if I didn't notice your 'fine's."
I paused, and the rest of the trio followed suit.
"You can talk to me," I said. "I won't get mad."
Agatha hesitated, her tongue tied. But, thankfully, she had found her voice.
"I'm sorry, MC," she choked, bowing to me. "I dragged you out here just to make you feel stupid. Of course you can't do what we do. I should've realized that. But even so . . . even so . . . I made you feel so bad."
She wept as a little girl would, the cracks of heart glimmering for all to witness.
"I'm always causing you trouble. I'm so sorry."
I knelt down to be at eye level with her.
"Agatha," I said. "Look at me."
And she did, supplying her sights with my warm smile.
"Don't mind," I told her.
Her expression softened.
"While it is true that you do cause me trouble," I explained, "whether it be chasing me around to no end, swinging against my chair, telling me to ignore my homework, I don't mind one bit. Wanna know why?"
Agatha awaited patiently for the answer.
"It's because I love you," I told her. "And I want you to be happy, not as your babysitter but as your friend. Sure, I didn't feel like the ace today, but this day wasn't about me; it was about you guys. My biggest priority is, and always will be, making sure you're one of the happiest girls in the world. Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, so don't worry about what other people think."
My beam bright, I stroked the hair of my favorite little demon girl.
"So keep on smiling, Agatha, because your happiness is my happiness."
Once more, Agatha appeared on the verge of tears, only this time, the shadows of her soul withered away, leaving room only for a shine greater than the most joyful of suns.
Suddenly, she lunged forward to wrap her arms around me.
She spoke no words, yet I could hear every single syllable.
Little Slendy rubbed her head against my shoulder, so I decided to stroke her hair as well.
"I love you too, Meredith," I said.
Cheeks, cherry-like in an instant.
I moved Agatha over to my backside to lend her a piggyback ride.
"Alrighty!" I began. "Let's get home so we can do our homework!"
Little Slendy pumped her fist into the air, a gesture that Agatha had to mimic.
And just like that, her charming demeanor had been revived, her character returning to the monster girl I cherished.