It was a quiet Saturday in the apartment. Nate had been sent to his room for playing soccer inside, so it was only a seven year-old Abby who sat in front of the TV, mesmerized. Why she was so interested in the news was beyond her mother.
Abby tilted her head at the screen. "Mama, who is that?"
Bonnie glanced over, only for her blood to freeze at the sight that greeted her. She couldn't even answer her daughter's question, as her heart stuck in her throat.
"—Doctor Hardscrabble recieved an award earlier this week for her work in—"
"She looks like me and Nate," Abby said, staring at the stony-faced figure on the screen. "Mama, is she our other mama?"
Bonnie swallowed her fear. It was no use lying to her; she would find out eventually anyway. "Yes, sweetheart. That's Mommy."
"That's Mommy?" Abby paused. "Well, where is she?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. I haven't seen her for a very long time." It was the truth. Bonnie hadn't seen her since she revealed that she was pregnant. She wasn't even there for the twins' hatching.
"Is she hiding?"
"Yes. Mommy is hiding. But she doesn't want to be found, do you understand? Mommy doesn't want to be found, so don't look for her."
Abby seemed to understand this, but she turned back to the TV with a longing look. Bonnie finished up dinner and silently set a bowl of macaroni and slime next to Abby.
"Mama, does she love me?" the young monstress asked quietly.
Bonnie hesitated for only a fraction of a second. "Yes, baby. Mommy loves you very much. In fact, she thinks you are going to be the best scarer ever."
"The best scarer ever?!" Abby repeated excitedly.
"The best scarer ever!" Bonnie ruffled her daughter's eyestalks. "But you have to work very hard, just like your Mommy and I. Promise?"
"Promise! I'll work really hard!"
Abby blinked awake, lying in the bed of her dorm room. Boxes laid all around her; she would soon be moving into the HSS house, but she had to be initiated first. She rose to her feet, peering into the sunlight of the day that awaited her.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Abby murmured to herself as she walked Monsters University's enormous campus. Her eyes scanned the ground and the sky, but could only spot students and the occasional professor or office worker. Suddenly, a soft screeching sound echoed through the air—only audible to those who were listening for it.
Dean Hardscrabble flew through the air and landed gracefully on the bell tower.
"Found you," Abby whispered.
But before she could do anything else, she was again ambushed by five enthusiastic goth girls. They dragged her into a nearby bush, hands and tentacles clasped over her mouth.
When they freed her, she huffed. "You know, I can just come to you."
"You're not allowed in the house until you're initiated," Lily pointed out. "Besides, this is more fun."
"You'll be able to get in the house after this test," Phoebe told her. "The long-standing HSS initiation...you must make a professor cry."
"But not just any crybaby teach," Amber butt in with a grin, "Dr. Van der Slime."
Dr. Van der Slime was the chair of Fear Standards. Might as well have asked her to scare Dean Hardscrabble herself. But Abby was cool and collected. "He has a seminar tonight. Easy."
"We'll see," Phoebe replied. "And remember, tears of laughter don't count."
"Of course not," Abby scoffed. "Who do you take me for?"
"A HSSter, if you're good enough."
"Believe me, I am."
Later in class, Professor Knight handed back their quizzes from earlier in the week. Abby was, naturally, more than shocked to see a 0 on her paper. In fact, she was quite outraged. All the answers were right, so why did she recieve a 0?
She took a deep breath and channeled her rage into her cold attitude. She glanced over to Nate's paper and somehow wasn't surprised to see a C—but he had been graded fairly. In fact, his correct answers mirrored her own. She would have at least gotten points for that. But Professor Knight hadn't marked any incorrect answers, he simply scrawled a 0 at the top of the page.
After an excruciatingly long class, Abby made her way to the front where Professor Knight was erasing the blackboard. "Excuse me, Professor Knight?"
"Yes?" he said gruffly, turning to face her with a frown.
"I'm sure this is just a mistake, but I don't understand why you marked a zero on my quiz. Did I not give the correct answers?"
"Oh yeah, you gave the correct answers," Knight grumbled, setting down the eraser and packing up his things. "But you cheated."
"Cheated—?!" Abby's eyes flew open in anger, but she managed to rein her emotions in. "I assure you, Professor Knight, that I did not cheat. You can retest me in a setting with no other students—"
"Nope. I don't do retests. You get a zero for this quiz. And if I catch you cheating again, you're out of here, missy." Knight glared at her. "Are we clear?"
Abby mirrored his glare. "Crystal," she snarled.
"Cheating?!" Arabella yelled, nearly blowing out the speaker of Abby's phone. "Well, that's—why did he—wait, did you actually cheat?"
Abby growled. "No! I didn't cheat! I don't even know why he thinks I was. Maybe because I got all the correct answers."
"Maybe. But, you know, you can go to the dean about that."
"Arabella."
"Huh? What? ...Oh. Oh, yeah."
"Yes. Who's higher than the dean?"
"Well—I'm not sure. The university president is the only one with authority over the deans, but I'm not sure how much control Dr. Gross has over her. She kind of does her own thing."
"I'll speak to Dr. Gross, then. She's my only chance. I am certain he will 'catch' me cheating again, and then I will be out for good."
"Well, good luck! I have to go to class now. Talk to you later!"
Abby hung up her phone, taking a deep breath. She looked around, but she hadn't seen her brother outside of class since that night with JOX. Just last week they would go nearly everywhere together, or he would at least drop by every once in a while to chat. She felt truly alone without him by her side for the first time in their lives. Glancing at her phone, she snarled at herself. Snap out of it, Abby. You don't need him. You're a big girl, and you can see Dr. Gross on your own.
So see the university president she did.
She strode right up to her office and into the waiting room. The receptionist gave her a kind smile. "Hello. Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but it's important that I speak with her."
"She's with Dean Hardscrabble right now, but you can see her when they're done."
Ice rushed through her veins. "No, I think I have to see them now."
And with the receptionist's protests, she rushed into the inner office, where Hardscrabble and Dr. Gross sat and talked. When they heard Abby, they each sprung to their feet. "What's the meaning of this?" Hardscrabble exclaimed.
"Dr. Gross, please, hear me out. I wasn't cheating. I don't know why Professor Knight says I am!"
"Settle down, child," Dr. Gross sighed, gesturing for Abby to take a seat. Hardscrabble narrowed her eyes as Abby sat in the chair next to her. "You say Professor Knight is falsely accusing you of cheating?"
"Yes. I offered to retake the quiz with no one else around but he said he didn't give retakes. I don't even know why he is accusing me of—I've never done such a thing! And if he accuses me again, I might be expelled!" Abby hurriedly explained.
"I see." Dr. Gross sat in her chair, mulling over the situation. "Normally, the dean of your college would handle such a problem. However," she glanced at Hardscrabble, "I can see why you would come to me. Unfortunately, I don't have evidence other than the word of either of you, so your professor wins out here. Have you tried talking to him?"
"Yes! He is convinced that I'm cheating. I'm not. I've never been." But how to prove it? How would Abby prove that she was a smart student with a natural talent that deserved to be in MU's legendary scaring program?
"The Scare Games," she gasped.
"Excuse me?" Hardscrabble snapped.
"The Scare Games! If I win the Scare Games, that means I'm one of the best scarers on campus. So obviously I didn't cheat, and I deserve to be given a fair chance."
Dr. Gross nodded. "Abigail? Any objections?"
Hardscrabble's frown slowly morphed into a smile. "Very well. If she wins the Scare Games I will let her complete my program. But if she loses, she will be expelled from the university for cheating."
A harsh punishment. If she had plagarism on her record, it would make it had to even go to Scream Community College. But Abby was confident in her ability. "Deal."
Hardscrabble grinned harshly at her. "Signups are in January. Don't forget."
"I won't." Abby stood and left, a proud step in her feet. As Hardscrabble turned to leave as well, Dr. Gross spoke up.
"I'd be proud of her if she was my daughter, Abigail."
Channel your inner Abigail, Abby.
The rest of HSS had arrived 15 minutes into the seminar, watching their newest recruit from the rafters. They were hidden to everyone else, but Abby could distinguish their forms in the darkness. She had a natural gift for seeing in the dark, which is something her mother Bonnie passed down to her.
Throughout the lecture, she had adopted Abigail's posture of looking like everyone was beneath her. She pretended not to listen to what Dr. Van der Slime was saying, often rolling her eyes or playing on her phone. Finally, 20 minutes in, she raised her hand. Van der Slime called on her.
"I'm sorry, I was just wondering: are we ever going to get into scaring, or are you going to spend the entire two hours talking about yourself?" she asked as politely as possible.
Van der Slime looked surprised, but not hurt enough yet. "Yes, well. I was just about to get into my paper—"
"Ah, yes. The Psychological Effects Monsters Have on Humans. I read it before this obviously pointless seminar and hoped dearly that this lecture would not reflect it. Clearly, I was wrong. I must ask, were you attempting to be hypocritical and off-topic, or does that just come to you naturally when you write?"
The professor was clearly agitated now. "What part of it was-"
"Oh, please, you can't obviously be so daft as to not have read Maulsalot's Theory of the Human Mind? No, perhaps that's a pointless question: you obviously haven't. You see, in his paper, he refutes almost all of the stereotypical monster viewpoints you have in your paper, and backs them up with scientific evidence. I'm not sure what about it is so puzzling to a scaring professor in the world's highest ranked scaring program, but I can see that Dean Hardscrabble's standards have significantly lowered in her old age. Now, if you don't have anything of interest to say, I must be off. I am a very busy monstress and I do not have time for braindead incompetence."
As she scuttled off, she could faintly hear the sound of Van der Slime sniffling quietly. The rest of the sorority met her at the entrance, each one gaping at her in amazement.
"Well? How did I do?"
"How soon can you move in?" Phoebe demanded.
Abby set the last box in her room with a huff. She glanced around her newest living quarters. Since she was the newest member, she had to share the room with the second-newest-the little spider girl, Sophie. She had never had to share a room before, not even with her brother, but she was confident she could adapt. Besides, Sophie seemed like a nice enough girl, if a bit scatterbrained.
"It's going to be great having you here!" Sophie squealed, bouncing on her web. Her half of the room was covered in cobwebs, and there wasn't a book without some sort of web residue on it. "We're going the win the Scare Games for sure, with you on our team!"
"We have to," Abby murmured quietly, too low for Sophie to hear. She started to unpack the rest of her books when she heard a faint tap on her window. She was about to ignore it, but another came. And another.
Irritated, she stalked to the window with a curse on her tongue. Looking out, she saw none other than her half-sister on the lawn with a slingshot and a few pebbles. Arabella waved franctically to her as soon as she saw Abby appear in the window.
Sighing, the centipede girl opened the window and began to crawl down the roof and the gothic walls to reach the lawn. As she approached Arabella, the latter giggled and embraced her. "Abby! Abby! You got in!"
"Yes, yes," Abby grumbled, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable at the contact. "I've passed my intiation and am now a full-fledged HSSter."
"A HSSter! Ha ha! So funny!" Then Arabella gasped. "Oh my gosh, Abby! You're going to need a new outfit! An outfit befitting that of a tough-as-nails HSS girl! Oh, please let me make it, Abby! I already have an idea of what to do!"
Abby touched her blood red scarf. Arabella had knitted that for her, too. Scaring wasn't her forte, but Arabella was a master with a needle and thread. She sew most of her own clothes and had a true love for designing rivalling Abby's love for scaring. "I would be honored to wear one of your masterpieces."
Arabella giggled in a high pitch. "Oh, Abby, you flatter me! Let's see, you haven't gained any weight since your last fitting, have you?" Ignoring Abby's protests, she whipped out a measuring tape and began to wrap it around Abby's waist and bust. "Ooh, the girls have gotten a bit bigger!" she tittered, referring to Abby's chest. The HSS girl's dark face flushed brightly.
"Yes, yes, a nice, well-made leather, something to endure the Scare Games," Arabella began to mumble, inspecting Abby's form as if an outfit was already forming in her mind. "Breathable, and yet sturdy. Spikes? No, no spikes, they would draw too much attention. I want to enhance her features. Long sleeves. An embroidered insignia. Something simple, but powerful."
"Don't go too crazy," Abby reminded her. "I'm not the president. I'm the fresh meat."
"Maybe for now." Arabella winked.
Her first night in the HSS house fell fast. Soon enough, Sophie was dozed off in her web after spinning a blanket around herself. Abby had more trouble going to sleep. Recalling a trick she learned from her mother, she curled up on herself and began to count her legs. Fifteen pairs, thirty legs in all. She had grown most of her legs already as an adult, but she was still hoping to grow another segment.
She stared at her shell for a moment. It was always gleamingly clean, and she took good care to make sure she looked her absolute best. She had to figure out how to clean her shell by herself, of course. Her mother and brother were snakes.
"Abby!" Bonnie snapped to the little girl strapped in a two-seater stroller. The girl was making quite a fuss, hissing and struggling in her prison. "I will let you play when you calm down."
Her brother, of course, already got to play. He was busy jumping off of ledges and flapping his wings, although they didn't seem to help him any. Soon enough, they both tired; Nate returned to his mother, and Abby resigned herself to a restrained fate.
"There we go," Bonnie purred, releasing Abby from the straps. She glanced down at Nate when he tapped her scales. "You tuckered out already, buddy?" she murmured, bending down to pick him up and holding him on her hip.
The sound of centipede legs tapping made Bonnie turn. "Now, don't go too far, sweet—"
She stopped immediately when she came face to face with burning amber eyes. Sometimes she felt like Abigail Hardscrabble could stare through her entire being to see all her fears and insecurities. Calming herself, she coolly steadied her gaze and put up her walls.
"So, I see you have gone against my wishes," Abigail began, her voice colder than ice. Bonnie instinctively held a hand over Nate and her tail around Abby, who was clinging to her side. "I merely hope you realize the consequences of your selfish and foolish actions."
"The only selfish and foolish action I ever did was trusting you," Bonnie replied with a quiet fury. "My children are the best decision I've made."
Abby looked at the stranger. The lady was very tall, like Mama, and had a centipede tail. A centipede tail! She looked at her own and gasped, a smile growing on her face. This lady was like her! She wasn't freaky after all!
Abigail regarded her past lover coldly. "You? Raising two children by yourself with a job like yours? Well, I wish you the best of luck." With a sadistic smile, she promptly turned and skittered off. Abby was about to go after her, ask her a few questions—but she felt her mother clutch her hand tightly.
"Come on, Abigail. We're leaving," Bonnie muttered.
"Mama, there's a frog in your throat."