Whoo! I finally updated this story! Coolios, yes? Anyway, this ma' second fanfic and the less sane one. Thank you all you reviewers for REVIEWING! I love reviews --nods head-- Yup, yup!
Disclaimer: Do I hafta tell you again that I do not own Blizzard's stuff? Or my brain for that matter?
In the eyes of the youth, all schools are weird. They were places where your self-esteem could drop to zero in an instant or where people get sued for unnecessary additions to the café food. But this school was weirder than weird; it was the epitome of weirdness. Each and every student could feel it deep down in their bones. The staff would often pop up somewhere expectantly or be waiting just around the corner, smiling, and the textbooks were abnormally huge. Sometimes, if you were alone in the quiet halls, you could hear things like faint crying or screaming, for that matter, yet no complaints ever get filed and no cops ever get called.
Nick began to wonder how he even got into this high school in the first place, just wondering right through Physics class which wasn't that hard because all they had to do was read what exactly Physics were. The teacher, Ms. Andall didn't look as if she'd cause him any trouble this year. But when he looked down at '2. Calculus- Mr. Isagal' printed on his schedule sheet, he nearly had a premature heart attack. Mr. Isagal, the notorious, sharp-eyed hawk who had thwarted each and every singles attempt Nick had made to prank him. Mr. Isagal, who had been delighted every time Nick took a field trip to the detention room, had decided to teach a grade higher. He sighed, already feeling doom encroaching upon him.
Patrick had to go to Gym for second period and, since their group was large and there was a better chance that he would see at least one of the group members, the now sweaty Brad would be joining him in the worst class in all of history.
"So Crow, how do you feel about Mr. Isagal as our teacher again?" Brad asked, mocking a talk show host, as they seated themselves in the decrepit, gloomy room even though the light shed it's dim radiance through the windows.
"Positively overjoyed," Crow said sarcastically.
"Okay class, settle down. Welcome to yet another year of high school. I, Mr. Isagal, shall be your instructor this year for the Mathematical branch called Calculus. Many familiar faces should remember me as their old Geometry teacher, and I greet all the newcomers to Sanctuary Highschool. I expect each and every one of you to behave properly, and we will start this class off to a good start. Other wise, I don't believe you'll enjoy sitting in my class for more than five minutes if I can help it. Especially you Mr. Mancer…" the teacher grins, standing before the chalkboard in front of the class.
Crow glared at the teacher from his vantage point in the back of the room, as many curious students turned in their seats to look at such a perpetrator while Brad winced as if it were he who got recognized by Mr. Isagal. At the board, the tall man ran a hand through his hair, as fine and dark as the smooth texture of black silk. As he began his first lesson, Nick zoned out, preferring to stare out the window to his left at the expansive campus of the school under a perfect, cloudless sky.
Ah yes. That was a unique trait that had separated Sanctuary from all the others. The school was so expansive and the student body so immense that it had been divided into three sections or Sectors. Each student's schedule showed all the essential information about what classes that student had to take this year printed on it, including which Sector the class was located in. Because of this enlargement of the school, the school board of the state had made it a vital imperative that there be a principal and a certain number of instructors assigned to each Sector.
Nick brushed away the thought of being yet another hopeless appendage to the student body. With nothing much to watch outside, save for a few squabbling birds which were oddly all ravens, he focused on the reflections of the class on the window. But what he saw startled him. Focusing on Mr. Isagal's ethereal image on the window, bright, sapphire pinpoints shone in his pupils as he spoke energetically to the class. The baffled teenager blinked to see if this strange phenomenon was just a trick of the eyes or a glare in the glass. He shook his head, it was still there.
A concerned Brad turned to him. "Hey Crow. Are you alright? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing… It's nothing…" The white teenager glanced at his teacher, then back to his reflection. The tiny lights he had seen were gone, replaced by the dark coffee of Mr. Isagal's eyes.
Crow sighed again and rattled his brain over his hallucination. Just as Isagal wrapped up his lecture, the bell rang. The teacher, now sitting behind his desk, watched Crow as he departed the room alongside Brad. Crow looked back at him, partly because he wanted to stare him down and partly because he wanted to know if he was going crazy.
But one thing that Nick had failed to see in the reflection of the window were the rippling, tendril-like wings sprouting from the man's back that, because they were ebony, were invisible against the backdrop of the black chalkboard…