We Are Monsters

by Creaturemaster

Ben somehow arrives in a strange new world where people and actual monsters co-exist (sort of). When he tries to blend himself in with Monster High's skeleton crew, things go horribly wrong! With a darkness lurking just of reach and an absurd amount of ghouls all wanting a piece of him, just how much can Ben take before he'll really "feel like a monster"? Rated T for harems & yuri.

2. A Fish out of Water

Thank you for the many reviews! I honestly didn't expect this story to be so good (mostly because I was the first one to make one). I'm sorry this took so long to update. That's what I get for trying to write 4 stories at the same time. Extra thanks to Rexfan1333 for giving me a brilliant idea for this story! And now, without further interruption!

Edit: If you are reading this, then congratulations! You've stumbled across my first work of fanfiction before I was my funny and witty self (he said sarcastically). I feel like there's a lot that I could do better on or that could be fixed, so here's my attempt to do just that!

Now, bare witness to the enigma that is the inner machinations of my mind!

Monster High.

Frankenstrike had seen several intimidating evil fortresses and impressive structures in his career as a universe-saving hero, but this was in a class all its own. The school was absolutely massive and could have most likely started off as a mansion at some point before construction went underway to covert it into a place of learning; even so it still retained its awe-inspiring atmosphere. Its gothic spires stabbed proudly into the vulnerable underbelly of the sky and its towers reached even higher as if both sides were in a silent competition with one another to see who could reach the tallest. Glass pane windows of large size were placed systematically along the walls and sides to allow a faint view into the dim hallways where faint shapes could be seen moving about in the hallways.

At the front of the main steps where a pair of lifeless, stone gargoyles stood guard was a large courtyard filled with students of various monster species lurking about their everyday business all around a swamp water fountain placed at the center for decoration use. The water feature gave off an unpleasant odor and seemed to be colored a distasteful hue, but no one seemed to notice or mind. They were pretty much all staring at him anyways.

"So? What do you think?"

Frankenstrike startled, almost forgetting Frankie had been by his side for a good five minutes after she had pulled him past the protective walls whose only opening was an old, wrought iron gate that groaned and moaned like a wounded animal when they yawned open on their own accord. Then again, the Transylian was more than twice her height; in fact, looking around, he seemed to be one of, if not the tallest student in the courtyard and possibly the entire school as a whole.

"I'm impressed." the Transylian whistled in amazement.

Frankie beamed brightly and eagerly grabbed hold of his tremendous hand, hardly noticing the way her dainty fingers were completely dwarfed by his calloused digits. "Great! I can't wait to introduce you to my friends!"

Frankenstrike politely allowed himself to be pulled along as he tried to crouch and make himself look a little less obvious. This was somehow harder to do considering he was being dragged along by a ghoul that was less than twice his size; it was like an excited child leading their parents along to show them something they were particularly proud of.

The Transylian however, was used to be stared at. Being a universe-saving superhero did that to people and his line of work brought him into contact with millions of different life forms of near infinite number of shapes and sizes and appearances. Frankenstrike had to admit however, despite spending a considerable amount of time on Anur Tranysl, being surrounded by actual monsters was a new one for him entirely. He just hoped he didn't do anything to make any of them angry – the images of being pelted with rotten fruit and garbage were still fresh in his mind and had taken a week to wash out of his favorite T-shirt.

Frankenstrike was led over to a small group of ghouls sitting by the front steps that had previously been gossiping and chatting with one another until they caught sight of Frankie. Their faces immediately lit up as they waved her over – that is, before they caught sight of the gigantic Transylian she was dragging along with her like a pet on a leash.

The leader of the group was a ghoul that was perhaps the tallest out of all of them, drawing about even with Frankie with a commanding presence that demanded absolute respect. Her skin was perfectly tanned and her mane of fluid, deep brown and golden locks as smooth as glass was in place by a rhinestone-studded headband. Her eyes were a vibrant green in color and were highlighted by a few layers of mascara and makeup, her pouty, ruby lips, and a blue rhinestone birthmark placed upon her cheek adjacent to a pair of golden earrings. The ghoul had smooth, rounded shoulders and was, as far as Frankenstrike could see, wrapped in faded gold, sparkling bandages from the chest down; her large bust was pinned back and held in place by two, Nile blue ribbons that functioned as a well-covered top and tipped into a silken, dress top combo. A studded belt wrapped itself around her lithe waist and her forearms and ankles were wrapped tightly in bandages before a pair of pumps cut them off and completed her look.

The second in command, if there was such a position, was a ghoul that seemed a bit off compared to her leader. Where smooth skin should have been instead was a layer of short, chocolate brown fur that covered her from head to toe. Tipping her toes and fingers were sharp claws perfectly designed for tearing and ripping. Her hazel brown locks were thick and luxurious, only allowed a pair of pointed, canine ears with hoop earrings to poke out. The ghoul's full lips gave way to a pair of curved fangs and her eyes were bright and golden in color, like that of a hungry predator. Her figure was slender and greatly accented, wrapped up in a tight, pink, tiger-striped top beneath a black jacket ringed in faux fur at the cuffs and collar. A purple skirt and silken underskirt accented her legging-covered legs and drew attention to her knee-high pumps and the many straps that came along with themt.

The third member was by far the shortest out of all of them and looked like she would have been small enough to be stepped on by his heavy foot. Frankenstrike was at first confused as to why she carried an open parasol to shelter her from the sun, but the reason became incredibly clear when he noticed her pasty, pink complexion and cute, little fangs. The ghoul had her black and pink streaked hair pulled back into twin tails, beneath which her bright, brown eyes flickered about the world with an almost unnatural sweetness. Her sense of fashion was practically ancient compared to her friends, and yet it had a present day charm to it as well, such as the addition of her pink, heart-dotted boots; she had a heart-shaped birthmark placed beneath her left eye.

The fourth and final member of the group was only a few inches taller than the previous, though it was somewhat difficult to tell due to her slouched posture. Her appearance was of almost human quality, save for her pale, gray skin, her somehow lazy eye movements, and her incredibly awkward smile when she waved at Frankie. She wore a pair of white, horn-rimmed glasses over her deep, blue eyes and had a massive mane of electric blue hair that stood out against her black and white horizontal-striped top. Her red pants were baggy and held in place by a buckle before transitioning into high, black boots with red laces; a laptop that she had been hastily typing away at sat upon her lap while she closed the lid.

Frankie brightened upon seeing her friends. "Hey, ghouls!" she smiled. "Did any of you finish last night's Biteology homework? I, uh . . . kinda forgot."

The mummy scoffed. "Gee, Frankie, I wonder why you forgot?" she rolled her eyes with sarcasm, as if the young cadaver's words were an understatement.

"Makin' out with your new boyfriend?" Clawdeen teased with a smirk.

Frankie felt her mint green cheeks turn a rosy red while Frankenstrike awkwardly tapped his fingers and tried to look inconspicuous as he fought back a light blush as well. He would never openly admit it, but Frankie was rather attractive, even for a collection of sewn-together body parts. He decided however that expressing interest in the Daughter of Frankenstein's Monster at that current moment was probably not the best of ideas.

"H-He's not my boyfriend!" she said quickly. "I just found him on Dad's lawn!"

This raised a few skeptical eyebrows. "So . . . he's one of your Dad's experiments?" Draculaura asked before suddenly gasping. "Did your Dad make a boyfriend tree!?"

Frankenstrike's conductors crackled nervously with electricity as Frankie facepalmed herself. "No, no. He's my friend and a new student and I thought I'd show him around."

The zombie rubbed her chin with suspicion, tracing her eyes carefully over Frankenstrike's body with a calculative look. "Ahhhhhhhieeee. Eeeeeeehhhaa aahh."

It took a few seconds for the Transylian to realize that the undead ghoul was actually trying to talk to him. Unfortunately, the only other language he knew was a limited amount of Spanish and he was nowhere close to even understanding the language of another species; he couldn't even begin to comprehend what the various moans and groans the zombie was giving him meant. Thankfully, Frankie came to his aid.

"She wants to know that thing on your chest is." she translated, reaching up and standing on her tiptoes to tap the Omnitrix disk currently embedded deep in his right pectoral. The Transylian flinched just the slightest when Frankie did that as the Omnitrix was quite sensitive to touch and had a habit of mistransforming when handled too roughly; unfortunately, he still hadn't quite figured out what 'rough' was to the device as it seemed more than capable of handling a myriad of stressful conditions and yet could reactivate under the oddest and most unpredictable of circumstances.

"That, um . . . it, uh . . . helps me keep my energy stable." he lied quickly, gesturing towards the two hulking turrets that sprouted from his back and shoulders. From what he had gathered, this wasn't entirely a lie as Transylians – similar to Frankenstrike – were a species that were renown for having unstable genetics and bodies that would start to degenerate and disfigure as they aged; most had attributed this as a cruel means of control when the species was enslaved by the Vladats, and thus the simulacrum-like Transylians had to resort to artificial means and technology to keep themselves together.

Luckily for him, Ghoulia seemed to buy that and gave a knowing nod.

The mummy coughed quite loud and rudely to draw all attention back towards her. "The name is Cleo De Nile, the most popular ghoul in school. Nothing happens without me knowing about it," she introduced herself with a bit of embellishment. "I know what's what and who's who and incidentally . . . who are you?"

The Transylian gulped nervously at how close Cleo was getting to him, taking note of how the mummy was resting on his arm and seemingly feeling his hulking arms up with her hands and tracing the stitches that arched their way across his skin and chest with her fingers into an almost taunting manner.

"Er, my name is Frankenstrike," he replied before grabbing hold of Cleo's hand as gently as possible without crushing it. "And could you please not do that? I would rather not accidentally shock you with twenty-thousand volts of electricity on my first day of school."

"Remember the last time you got your wires crossed, Cleo?" Clawdeen teased with a warning tone, her eyes flickering accusingly towards Frankie. The Daughter of Frankenstein's Monster blushed sheepishly while the mummy shivered in horror and hurriedly took a few steps back from Frankenstrike as a precaution; she could still smell the foul odor of burning hair.

BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNG!

A loud and shrill bell echoed out over the courtyard, heralding the arrival of the morning classes that everyone was quick to get to and nearly stampeding over even Frankenstrike in their mad rush. Frankie and the rest of her ghoul friends however, seemed use to the usual hustle and bustle of the school and the steady stream of students flowing from one classroom to the other without much pause or room for error; Mr. Hackington didn't tolerate tardiness.

"Sorry, Frankie gotta go!" Draculaura bid her friend farewell as she hurried up the steps. "Have a good first day, Frankenstrike!"

"Just keep your head low and figure out the system." Clawdeen advised him before she trotted off after her beast friend.

Cleo didn't offer much advice herself other than a look that said she would not tolerate those that questioned her rule of the school before she fluidly slid into the arms of a well-muscled man-ster with tanned skin, tattooed shoulders, and a head of slithering, hissing snakes that spat and glared intensely at Frankenstrike while Deuce Gorgon walked his ghoulfriend to her first class of the day. Ghoulia followed closely behind after shutting off her laptop and giving a farewell wave to the two simulacrums before Cleo could call out to her to hurry up.

"I think they like you." Frankie smiled optimistically while she led Frankenstrike up the front steps.

"Which ones?"

"Oh, don't let Cleo worry you. She's really nice once you get to know her!" she insisted. "She's just got some . . . family issues."

"If you say so . . ." the Transylian grumbled before Frankie eagerly grabbed his hand and quickly pulled him inside before he could say much else, his head taking out a small chunk of the door frame with nothing but a loud grunt of discomfort to signal he was ever in any pain. He once more allowed himself to be dragged along by the young simulacrum that he had quickly become dependent on in the past few hours and found it slightly amusing that he – someone who continually denied that he was incapable of handling his hero duties by himself – was now nearly totally reliant on someone who he had practically just met. The fact that his guide was both a girl and quite small compared to him – even though she would have drawn about even with his human form, perhaps even a few inches taller – that was leading him through a labyrinth of coffin-shaped, locker-lined hallways also became a source of mental entertainment until they eventually came to a stop in front of a large door with sturdy, iron bars over the window.

Granted, a lot of the doors in the school had a similar feature without the reasons being exactly clear, but this door seemed to have them for reasons that the Transylian shouldn't question. Despite his uneasiness, Frankie gave him that same, sweet smile that somehow managed to nearly instantly calm his nerves before she rapped a knuckle on the door and waited a few seconds until she was given permission to enter.

"Come in."

The Transylian groaned as Frankie opened the door and gestured for him to step inside. With a low grunt, he bent his knees and comically shuffled his towering bulk through the door as carefully as possible, having to turn sideways to let his large chest, broad shoulders, and clunking conductors through the doorway. Much to his annoyance, even this wasn't enough to keep Frankenstrike's electrical turrets from catching on the door frame and tearing it clean off in a spray of dust and plaster and wood splinters after a bit of effort. He grumbled obscenities under his breath while he finally managed to make the rest of his way into the room and draw himself up to his full height with Frankie closing the door behind them and taking one of the two chairs seated before a large and ornate desk.

Wisely, Frankenstrike opted to politely push the chair aside and sit on the floor next to Frankie, still drawing about a head taller than her even when hunched over.

"Frankie, dear, would you mind introducing me to your friend?" a feminine voice came from the padded office chair with its back turned towards them. "As well as kindly explaining to me what that . . . eh, noise was?"

Frankie smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Headmistress Bloodgood." she apologized. "Frankenstrike's a little bigger than I thought."

That's what she said, the Transylian resisted the mild urge to blurt out the words, immediately straightening his posture when the office chair calmly swung around to reveal a woman with shining, black hair carefully curled and pooled upon her head. Silvery orbs like a pair of glowing moons against a pale backdrop of soft skin stared back at Frankenstrike. A bit of mirth lurked behind the stern mask that demanded respect.

The Transylian was more than happy to give it to her, considering that the body – which was wearing a billowing, purple frock coat, a crisp, white frilled shirt, red cravat, black trousers, and riding boots – was calmly stroking her head like it was a pet cat.

It wasn't so much the woman's commanding presence that threw Frankenstrike for a loop. Rather, it was the fact that her head was completely detached from her shoulders and sitting in her lap, still functioning and breathing without hindrance as her body moved freely on its own accord while remaining in perfect harmony with the head.

Now Frankenstrike had seen several extraterrestrial species with bizarre body parts and abnormal bodies, some of which included multiple heads or faces in their chests; heck, he had even been decapitated in his alien forms a few times. But to see someone that so closely resembled a human screw their own head back into place on their shoulders without difficulty was something that was unnerving as it was cool.

"Headmistress Bloodgood," the dullahan introduced herself, reaching forward and shaking one of the Transylian's tremendous mitts in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you, mister . . ?"

Frankenstrike faltered as he realized that the headmistress was prompting him to introduce himself, as was the polite response. "Uh, the name's Frankenstrike. Frankenstrike Tennyson." his mouth said before his brain caught up; by then, he was cursing himself for using his real last name as a cover up.

Luckily however, both Frankie and Bloodgood seemed to buy it. "I'll admit, Mr. Tennyson, we weren't expecting you. Admittedly rather strange, but rest assured you are not the first student to avoid official registration."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed." Bloodgood said as she reached over and opened up a drawer in her desk, riffling through files. "Monster High is a place to grow and learn at ones own pace, a place of acceptance and experimentation." she explained. "I suppose when you first arrived you thought everyone got along?"

"Maybe?" Frankenstrike guessed. "Is that wrong?"

Frankie nodded. "It was like walking on eggshells by the time I got here. The werewolves and vampires absolutely detested each other, the freshies and salties wouldn't get along, and anyone who picked a side was instantly a target," she explained. "You couldn't go between classes without being caught in the middle of some prank meant for the other side."

He had to admit, that didn't sound like Monster High's goals and purposes at all. He himself had to deal with similar problems back home – wherever that was now – between aliens and frightened humans that were still getting use to the fact that there was an entire settlement of extraterrestrial colonists beneath their very feet. It didn't help that certain individuals – such as a certain anchorman – kept on spouting off propaganda nonsense in an almost childish effort to make his heroic deeds and duties seem as criminal as possible.

"Yeesh. Doesn't sound like a place you'd wanna go to learn." he commented.

"Agreed," Bloodgood sighed as she came back up with an empty manila envelope. "Thankfully after much work and dedication, tensions have settled . . . especially after the Hellscream Incident . . ." she muttered darkly under her breath for a brief second; Frankie seemed to turn a paler shade of mint green while she shuddered at some horrid memory. He decided he wouldn't question it, if ever. "Regardless, I'll set up your student record while you two get to class. Since your visit was rather unexpected, you'll be shadowing Ms. Stein for the day until an official schedule can be drawn up for you." the dullahan instructed.

Frankie smiled brightly. "Scary cool! We can totally fang out together after class!"

The Transylian couldn't quite put his finger on why his heart seemed to swell at the thought of that. It was probably just the rush of being in a new place surrounded by new people he hadn't met before.

Yeah, that was probably it.

The excitement was cut short as Bloodgood coughed awkwardly. "Yes, well, I'm afraid that any 'fanging out' will have to wait," her expression turned sullen and business-like as she turned to address him. "I'm sure you're well aware of the . . . damages to the school since your arrival."

For some reason, he couldn't help but get the feeling that the headmistress was glancing at the broken, twisted frame that had once been her office door and cringed just the slightest. "Sorry. Collateral damage kinda follows me wherever I go." he grinned sheepishly.

Bloodgood's lips curled into a slight smile. "Believe me when I say you aren't the first, Mr. Tennyson. I'm sure you'll meet Hoodude Voodoo and Heath Burns soon enough . . . Hades forbid what might happen if the three of you were left in a room together unsupervised . . ." she mumbled quietly to herself, her hands folded together as she tried to put the ugly image of complete pandemonium and tremendous destruction out of her head. "It has come to my understanding that you are currently within the care of the Stein residence?"

"Yep! We found him sleeping outside on the lawn this morning!" Frankie smiled brightly, earning a strange look from Headmistress Bloodgood.

"Er, yes, well then . . . I suppose it wouldn't hurt to pay some form of compensation in exchange for room and board, as well as any foreseeable damages to school property." the dullahan subtly suggested. "I can arrange for you to overshadow a shift at the Coffin Bean after school with Ms. Lagoona Blue in order to get you started, if you like." she offered.

Frankenstrike sighed relief and nodded while he climbed to his feet. "Thanks. I appreciate the help."

Bloodgood gave him a warm smile as she handed him a post-it note with instructions and a meeting time to the aforementioned Coffin Bean. "Good luck, Mr. Tennyson." she nodded as the Transylian turned towards the ruined remains of the door. "Oh, and one more thing . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to Monster High." Headless Headmistress Bloodgood gave a bright, enthusiastic smile that helped reassure Frankenstrike that not everything was a complete disaster. At least, not yet.

The day was still young, after all.

---

Frankie was bouncing with excitement, her lips curled up into the biggest smile that Frankenstrike had seen on her all day – which admittedly wasn't a long time – while she led him down the hallway, once again dragging him along like an excited child that wanted to show their parents something they were proud of by insistently tugging on their fingers. The Transylian couldn't help but let a smile of his own cross his features as he followed after the young simulacrum, a warming feeling welling up in his chest at the sight of her happy face.

It was a vaguely familiar feeling that had arisen several times before, only to be banished back into the darkest bowels of his soul time and time again: love.

He could hardly believe that he was already feeling a small attraction towards someone he had just met not less than an hour ago and someone who he would most likely never see again if he managed to find a way home; the thought made his large, semi-artificial heart clench just the slightest at the thought of suddenly leaving the first person who had been nice to him since he had arrived into this strange, new world without explanation.

But there was also the chance that he may never be able to leave as well.

The sound of Frankie's voice was enough to shake him from his concerns. ". . . now since you and I have the same schedule for the time being, we get to have my favorite class together: Mad Science!"

Frankenstrike couldn't help but get the feeling that he probably should have known that the moment he had met her father, the lumbering mad scientist that had followed in his own father's footsteps as a leader in pushing the boundaries of the mad scientific field. He also couldn't help but feel slightly worried, as he had some rather poor experiences with what was considered 'mad science' back in his universe, namely with a certain geneticist and his mutated menagerie. "Should I be scared?"

Frankie snickered. "Nah, you'll be fine," she reassured him as they stopped outside of a heavily armored and heavily locked door that looked like it belonged on a bomb shelter rather than in a school hallway. "Just keep your head down and try not to get on Mr. Hackington's bad side. Oh, and if he starts laughing, then that's something you need to write down for the pop quiz he gives us every week."

"Pop quiz?" Frankenstrike gulped. School had never been his strong suit and his grades had only gotten worse the more attention his duties as a hero required to the point where he had been forced to drop out of his senior year altogether.

Frankie nodded before seeming to remember something else. "Yep. And if he laughs so hard that he starts choking on his own spit, make sure you study whatever he was talking about beforehand really hard. Afterthat you can try and give him the Slimelich maneuver. If his face starts to turn Kraken Blood Blue, that is."

"If you say so . . ." the Transylian muttered. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong – the universe hadn't managed to fail him so far – and he was quickly proven right when the heavy, metal door was torn clean off its hinges when he gave the handle a simple turn. Frankie snickered while he mentally cursed and followed her inside the classroom, deciding that he was going to ignore any further damages to the school he might make; his conductors took out a good portion of the door frame and wall as he ducked in, turned around, and hauled the discarded door back into place.

When he turned around he found himself in a classroom where everyone, including the teacher, was staring at him. It was noticeably quite cold and dank, the air wet and moist and the walls ancient and coated in a fine layer of mold and fungus specimens, particularly in the corners that had most likely escaped maintenance for centuries. Rows of elevated desks set on a series of tiers traveling back from the bottom floor where the teacher's desk sat in front of a large black board that took up a good portion of the wall. The wall opposite of the now damaged door was dotted with three, yawning, glass pane windows that let in a minimal amount of light through the drawn shades and condensation, as if the teacher was afraid of the sun's welcoming rays.

The teacher himself was questionable at best and looked like he belonged in a sideshow or mental asylum rather than teaching high school students. His arms were thick and heavy, covered in lairs of thin, greasy hair that sprouted from pale skin pockmarked with bumps and boils of various sizes and degrees of nastiness. His frame was slouched and quite rotund, sporting a large potbelly that looked like it jiggled like jello whenever he cackled at the misery of his students. The man's eyes were small and beady, hidden behind a stitched mask that smelled strongly of ash and chemical burns, as did the set of layered overalls and rubber gloves stained with strange patches of odd colors – he had a feeling he didn't want to know about those.

"An' who might you be?" Mr. Hackington snarled in a graveled tone.

The Transylian swallowed, his turrets crackling unstably as a result. "I . . . uh, my name is Frankenstrike Tennyson? I'm, um . . . I'm a new student?"

Frankie bravely stepped up to the ghoulish man and presented him with a pink slip of paper that he had to put on a pair of specks and peer down with his beady eyes at in order to read. "We have a pass from Headmistress Bloodgood."

The young cadaver couldn't help but smile triumphantly when Mr. Hackington relented and pocketed the pink slip of paper, grumbling obscenities under his breath as he returned to his desk. Meanwhile, she beckoned for Frankenstrike to follow her to the top row of desks where a pair of empty seats sat unattended and open to anyone lucky enough to not be locked outside of the classroom after the bell rang.

Frankenstrike couldn't help but swallow anxiously and mentally berate himself for acting so cowardly while he followed the young simulacrum up the stairs. He had easily faced foes and enemies ten times more threatening than the hollow, judgmental stares of fellow peers that he barely knew and yet their looks at him somehow felt ten times worse than facing down the latest creation of Dr. Animo during a recharging timeout. It also didn't help that the ancient, creaking, wooden steps that he had to climb up to get to the only available seats bowed and broke beneath his hulking form, snapping and crunching like toothpicks beneath his feet until he finally made his way to his seat and sat down.

Why he wasn't surprised when that chair broke as well was beyond him.

"Yes, well now," Mr. Hackington coughed gruffly as Frankie took the seat next to Frankenstrike and flashed him a bright smile. Almost instantaneously the Transylian felt a million times better, his anxiety melting away while the young cadaver handed him a pencil and several sheets of notebook paper to take notes on until he could get his own school supplies. "In honor o' our new student . . . homework fer everyone! Pages thirty-seven through ninety-nine due by tomorrow!"

Frankenstrike slammed his head on the desk in front of him as the entire classroom turned around to glare at him. The gentle touch that Frankie placed upon his big, meaty hand was the only comfort he got when he proceeded to repeatedly slam his head into the desk for every round of harsh, cruel laughter that Mr. Hackington embedded into his brain.

Not the best way to start school, he thought as he beat his head against the desk for the twentieth time in a row.

---

Thus far, Frankenstrike was not impressed with Monster High.

Oh, sure, he liked the school well enough. Everyone seemed nice enough upon first meeting them and the classes were all interesting upon first glance, but it was after the charm of the place had worn off did the Transylian find himself meeting that old familiar feeling of absolute boredom from his younger school days face to face once again; the large welt on his forehead was more than enough evidence of that.

He could still hear the low, drawling moan of Mr. Rotter as he droned on and on and on in Frankie's Dead Languages class and the twisted smile of Mr. Hackington as the two of them returned to his classroom for Biteology would continue to haunt his nightmares for days to come – especially when he discovered that the man's dental hygiene left something to be heavily desired. The one class that had been worthwhile had been of course, Physical Deaducation where his great size and stature was an actual advantage over everyone else when playing a game of casketball.

Seeing Frankie in a pair of skimpy gym shorts and T-shirt was merely an added bonus, no matter what anyone else said.

Mostly though, he was just thankful that she had been by his side the entire day to keep himself from going completely crazy. He couldn't believe that a girl he had just met – and someone that was stitched together from random body parts no less – had become his anchor to reality and sanity so quickly, especially one he didn't know much about. He knew about her family and her electrifyingly awesome personality, but her interests, desires, hopes, and dreams were something of a foreign territory to him. For all he knew, she was already in a relationship and he was just setting himself up for failure – again.

"Hey, are you alright?"

That bright, bubbly voice snapped Frankenstrike from his thoughts and brought him hurling back to reality where he found himself standing in the middle of the Maul with Frankie by his side and a few shopping bags clutched in her hands. He would have offered to carry the parcels for her, but he was too busy taking in the overall architecture and appearance of the place that was the central hub of nearly every monster teenager's unlife.

The New Salem Maul was a monster of a building, built at least three or four stories tall and what felt like a mile or two long to the woefully unprepared. Escalators transported monsters of every shape and size between floors at a steady, smooth pace and every floor was stocked to the brim with almost every store imaginable, everything from clothing and small food stands run by monster teenagers desperate for cash to books and video games and even a small pet shop that specialized in accessories and exotic fish. The heart and soul of the maul however, was the Food Corpse, a massive mixing pot of almost every commercial food item one could think of, everything from Hexican delicacies to the greasy treasures of Boney Island.

The point of Frankenstrike's current interest however, was a small cafe of sorts tucked beside an escalator leading up to the second floor and below a Transylvania's Secret that was having a two for one sale on items that the Transylian didn't care to know about. He was pretty sure the Maul security would have come after him if he even tried to take a peek inside the store anyway, not that it stopped Heath Burns from being chased away by the manager.

"Yeah, just, um, taking it all in," Frankenstrike scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Back home, we, uh . . . didn't, er, have anything this . . . big." he lied.

"It is a bit overwhelming, isn't it?" Frankie smiled before she nudged him earnestly. "Now come on. It's your first day on the job!"

"Yeah, my first day on the job . . ."

The young simulacrum smiled brightly, instantly making his worries evaporate for a brief moment. "That's the spirit!" she encouraged him. "I promised I'd meet the ghouls at Fangever 13 for their store-wide sale. I'll meet up with you and Lagoona back at the Food Corpse when your shift's over, alright?"

"Yeah, sure . . ." Frankenstrike was still standing as still and solid as a gargoyle. Any attempt from his much smaller and female counterpart to try and move him – everything from elbowing him in his iron bar ribs to outright trying to throw her entire body at his tremendous frame after a running start – was absolutely fruitless; he was like a mighty mountain. Eventually though, an idea came to her and she stretched up her tip-toes so that she could lay a hand upon his broad shoulder and release a small charge of electricity, giving the Transylian a refreshing shock that seemed to jump start him once more.

"Sorry," he rumbled as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. "Just a little nervous."

Frankie gave him that same comforting smile that made all his worries wash away and turned him to push with just a single flash of that sweet naivety. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine. I know you will." she promised. "Now go get 'im!"

The Transylian sucked in a deep breath and nodded as he took a few lumbering footsteps towards the coffee shop. He had never had a job before, much less been able to hold one long enough to make decent pay – being the only defense against a secret, alien invasion hellbent on wiping out all life on your world simply because they were going extinct as well and wished to take everyone else out with them in some absurd kamikaze style plan tended to do that – and the closest he had ever come to doing any kind of work that involved pay was when he had to run errands for Mr. Baumann to work off the damages of his latest shenanigans; not that it was entirely his fault.

Of course he was naturally nervous.

Luckily for him, he had Frankie for support. The ghoul hardly even knew him – hardly even knew his true self – and she was already treating him like one of her beast friends. Given how often trouble found him, regardless of whether he was intentionally looking for it or not, he certainly had trouble making friends; he decided he was going to hold onto this one for as long as possible. "Oh, and Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything, beautiful." he said with a small smile and wink before turning to lumber and squeeze his immense frame through the annoyingly small entrance of the Coffin Bean. Had he stuck around a little longer he might have noticed that Frankie's once mint green cheeks flared into a deep crimson at the warm comment.

The Transylian ducked under the open doorway of the small coffee shop and entered an atmosphere heavy with the thick blanket of caffeine and various breakfast pastries. The cafe was rather cozy, with a series of high tables and stools located towards the door for simple snacks and meet ups, and rings of chairs and sofas laden with pillows more towards the back, perfect for study groups. A long counter beneath the Coffin Bean's menu was stationed at the very back with a short hallway to the left that must have led towards the restrooms.

Standing lazily behind the counter and reading what looked to be a surfing magazine was a remarkably intriguing ghoul whose skin was covered in thousands of glimmering, pale blue scales. Two pairs of fins protruded from her body, one for her forearms and the other out of her calves; her figure was sleek and lithe, hitting all the right spots all at once. Locks of curly, light blond hair with highlights the color of ocean waves hung loose and without care over her face, only just barely obscuring her bright, seaweed green eyes with violet eyeliner, tickling freckles, and pink, glossy lips. The clearly aquatic ghoul wore a pink tank top with scales etched into the design beneath a loose, black jacket with a crystal blue scale, vest-like pattern. A pair of sport booty shorts enveloped her hips with fishnet lacing on her thighs that stopped just before the calf, leaving a generous section of her long legs exposed before her black pumps began; around her neck hung a golden necklace with a seahorse pendant.

Frankenstrike sucked in a deep breath, trying to ignore the amphibious ghoul's natural beauty as he approached the counter. By then, she had noticed his heavy footsteps and glanced up at him with a bright flash of her cookie-cutter teeth. "G'day, mate! Welcome to the Coffin Bean. How c'n I help ya?"

The Transylian took a brief glance down at the sheet of paper that Headmistress Bloodgood had given him. "Um, I'm looking for a 'Lagoona Blue'?"

The sea monster ghoul's grin widened a little more. "Yer lookin' at 'er, mate! So if I'm Lagoona, that must make you the new kid at school. Frankenstrike Tennyson, right?"

"That's my name. Don't wear it out." the Transylian chuckled nervously, mentally slapping himself for not even coming up with something remotely creative. "Headmistress Bloodgood said I could get a job here?"

Lagoona gave him an expression of amusement and mild irritation. "Let me guess, you're the lucky fella who's been breakin' doors left an' right, am I right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

The Daughter of the Creature from the Black Lagoon smirked slightly and snickered. "Kinda. But enough beatin' 'round the reef, lemme show ya the ropes!" she turned around on her heel and beckoned him to follow her with a webbed finger.

With a grunt, Frankenstrike attempted to vault himself over the counter without causing a minor earthquake and breathed a sigh of relief when the counter top only creaked slightly beneath his tremendous weight. He was then tossed a large apron with faint coffee stains as Lagoona tied her own, much smaller apron around herself and proceeded to show him the ropes of his job for the next hour or so.

The Transylian found that it really wasn't that difficult to do, at least not in comparison to his on and off again delivery job; there was always a chance that the packages would try to bite him or suddenly become chemically unstable. There was even one occasion where one of his packages that he had mistaken for goldfish – which later turned out to be a dwarf star in a containment sphere – had been stolen by nearly every criminal and bounty hunter he knew.

Here however, the most he had to worry about were customer's orders and to keep his fingers and digits away from the purse-like fishbowl that Lagoona kept beneath the counter. Granted, business was quite slow and while it didn't hurt all that much due to his thick skin, one encounter with her pet piranha, Neptuna, was more than enough for him to give the fishbowl a wide berth.

"Well, that pretty much wraps things up." Lagoona concluded after mopping up the resulting mess of a coffee maker that had exploded under the Transylian's electrifying touch. "So tell me a lil' 'bout yerself, mate. From what's been goin' 'round, you just suddenly appeared on Frankie's lawn like ya fell out of the sky or somethin'!"

Oh, if you only knew, Frankenstrike thought to himself. He could still feel the spot where he had landed so uncomfortably on.

The Transylian heaved an uncomfortable sigh. He didn't know what to tell Lagoona, if he could tell her anything at all. He didn't know why he felt like he could tell her anything in the first place anyway when he couldn't even tell Frankie of all people about his other life; then again, he was already developing affections for her and love always made people do crazy and stupid stuff. That still confused him as to why he didn't feel like he had to hold anything back when he was talking to Lagoona.

Maybe it was because he had been informed that she already had a boyfriend? Maybe he just didn't find her as beautiful and stunning to look at as Frankie? Maybe it was because her laid back personality and "go with the flow" philosophy made him feel so . . . relaxed?

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had felt so truly at ease. Usually at least some small part of him was always aware of his surroundings, just in case he was suddenly jumped by one of his many enemies or some random catastrophe decided to occur. Here though, there weren't any enemies to speak of. No-one knew of his double life, no one knew about the Omnitrix and the power it possessed, no one knew of his great deeds and accomplishments. He was just another monster, just like any other monster living just another life just like any other monster.

It was actually kind of nice.

But there was still no way he could tell Lagoona everything. She'd think he was an absolute nutcase if he attempted to tell her about his secret life, or at the very least shrug it off as something he fanboyed over.

It was then that a heavy thump! shook him from his thoughts and he looked up to find himself standing alone in the Coffin Bean. This was quite peculiar since he was pretty sure that he had just been talking with a sea monster mere minutes before.

He felt something tightly grasp onto his foot and looked down and startled upon suddenly seeing Lagoona on the floor, struggling to get to her feet. It was obvious that she had collapsed form the way her legs were twisted and if the way her breath was dry and rasping, it looked like she was choking. With a grunt, the Transylian stooped down and easily hauled her shaking figure up in his arms, immediately cringing when he caught sight of the sea monster's red face, dilated eyes, and the way her lips were desperately gasping from the breath that alluded her.

Frankenstrike nearly felt his heart stop when he realized that Lagoona was both choking and drying out at the same time. "Water! Water! C'mon, where's a guy gotta go to get some water?" his mind was racing, his hero instincts kicking into overdrive to try and find a solution.

After briefly contemplating dousing the sea monster with hot coffee or the contents of Neptuna's fish bowl – both of which were bad ideas in the first place – the Transylian finally settled on racing for the restrooms at the back of the cafe and rammed his shoulder into the ghoulsroom door; he doubted Lagoona cared about anything other than getting water at this point.

That didn't mean he was going to shove her face in a toilet bowl to save her life, however – he would never hear the end of it. He instead opted for rushing for the sink and twisting on both of the faucets full blast, nearly tearing them off after quickly clogging the drain with some paper towels and finally shoving Lagoona's face into the water collecting at the bottom of the basin. At first, she was limited to swallowing mouthfuls of water to keep herself from passing out and gripping the sides of the sink with shaking, white knuckles, but the water level eventually rose high enough that the gills in her neck and collarbone area were able to do the rest of the job.

With a sigh of relief, Frankenstrike took a step back to give the slowly recovering sea monster some air, leaning back against one of the bathroom stalls and hoping to high heaven that it would hold against his tremendous frame; mostly though, he was just glad that his new friend was going to be alright. A tidal wave of guilt almost immediately came crashing down on him mere seconds while he watched Lagoona gulp down mouthful after mouthful of life giving water, slicking her blonde and blue locks back out of her face. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow his fault

Most would have argued that such a theory was downright ludicrous, but the Transylian knew the universe like the back of his hand: it loved to mess with him.

As if he had spoken the Devil's name, the Omnitrix suddenly began gave that familiar, warning beep it always did before timing out and leaving him stranded. His hero instincts kicked in and he quickly began to go over his options.

He could try and run out of the restroom, but that would run the risk of him being spotted in his human form – and coming out of the ghoul's bathroom, no less. He could try running into the manster's restroom, but Lagoona might then come looking for him before he could reactivate. And assuming she didn't notice the trademark, green blast of energy that enveloped him whenever he transformed, there was no guarantee that he would turn into the alien he needed.

The universe just seemed to hate him sometimes.

The beeping became more intense just as the faucet turned off with a sharp squeak and the water began to drain away with a low gurgling sound. Like it or not, he was going to time out and there was nothing he could do about it. He only hoped that, as the green energy washed over him and began to reassemble his DNA, that his trademark good luck would hold out.

---

Lagoona took a few calming breaths, ignoring a sudden blast of green light coming from right behind her; she just shrugged it off as still being a little lightheaded. She was mentally berating herself for forgetting to dampen her moisture sensitive skin after living on land for so long, but then again Mr. Hackington's classroom was always notoriously cold and wet. One tended to forget bodily necessities such as regular hydration when dealing with a raving lunatic for a teacher.

"Thanks for the save, mate," she smiled with relief, pushing a lock of her chlorine-stained hair out of her face. "For a second there, I thought I . . . was . . . gonna . . ."

The words died on her lips the moment she turned around and found a human teenager instead of her monstrous guardian angel. He had a head of shaggy hair the color of rich chocolate and a pair of impish, green pools of ivy for eyes. A simple black T-shirt with green stripes and a white number ten plastered on the front and a pair of cargo pants with pockets at the knees clung to his wiry, yet well defined form. He wore a pair of green and white sneakers, as well as a white hooded jacket with stripes and a green number ten stenciled on the right side. Attached to his wrist was what looked like some sort of bizarre watch, but that was the least of Lagoona's concerns right now.

She was first initially startled that there was a human in the Maul. While humans weren't necessarily banned, most that didn't come in the company of monsters tended to cause trouble; hostilities had decreased significantly as of a few Halloweens ago, but most parents still didn't approve of their children hanging out with "monster trash". As if that wasn't enough, it was a human male in a restroom for female monsters, something that instinctively rang alarm bells in Lagoona's head.

That was immediately forgotten when she realized that her hero was nowhere to be found, something that greatly worried her when she realized that Frankenstrike had been standing in the exact same spot as the human boy. "Who're you mate? Where's Frankenstrike? And . . . why are you in the ghoulsroom?"

Ben swallowed the lump in his throat and tightly clenched and unclenched his sweaty palms while he went over his new options. He could always try and make a break for it, but that would likely result in Maul security coming after him – or worse. He could also try and reactivate the Omnitrix and hope that it would transform him into something useful that might help him out of the situation. That was a risk in of itself however – while had didn't argue as much with the device anymore, he still questioned some of the Omnitrix's decisions sometimes. There was always lying, but something told him that trying to talk himself out of this one was just going to land him in a deeper hole than he had already dug himself.

That left him with his last option. "What, you don't recognize me?" he put on a joking grin.

"Um . . . no?" Lagoona raised a confused eyebrow with a slight scowl on her lips. "Look, do I know you or somethin'?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Ben Tennyson. Pleasure to meet ya, Lagoona."

"How do you know my name?" Lagoona asked suspiciously.

The brunette scoffed with mock amusement. "You just spent the last hour or so telling me about how you and Gil met through some weird notebook exchange accident. Ring a bell?" he teased.

The sea monster's distrustful scowl deepened the slightest while she thought. Was he trying to say that . . ? No, that was impossible, at least in part. Transformations weren't something that were unusual in the monster world – vampires turned into bats, some werewolves transformed during the full moon, and numerous monsters underwent dramatic transformations during puberty – but very few of them involved a human stage. Furthermore, if what he was saying was true, he had turned into a simulacrum, and those were composed entirely of random body parts stitched together.

Body parts that had been separated from their previous owners.

As in, they had once been dead. The implications were . . . quite improbable, to say the least.

"I must've hit my head harder than I thought . . ." Lagoona muttered under her breath.

Humor clearly wasn't the answer he had been hoping for, that much was clear. "Look, I'll just cut to the chase," he said, gesturing to himself with a more serious tone. "I'm Frankenstrike."

Lagoona rubbed her temples, trying to find some plausible explanation to what was happening. Assuming she wasn't just having some weird dream due to being heavily dehydrated, she was still having trouble grasping the concept.

"Look, what can I do to get you to believe me?" Ben spoke up, willing to try anything at this point. He didn't like the look of disbelief on her face. He wanted her to stay his friend or at the very least, someone who would be willing to keep his secret until he managed to straighten everything out; the Daughter of the Creature of the Black Lagoona was the best option he could hope for.

"Maybe a better explanation, mate." she replied wearily, taking a deep breath and leaning back against the sink with arms folded over her bust.

"Fair enough." he agreed as he made himself comfortable leaning up against the bathroom stall and just hoping that some random ghoul didn't accidentally walk in on them. "Let's see . . . well, you already know my name, so I guess it's time to pull out the big guns. You see, I'm not sure if it was obvious or not, but I'm not from around here."

"Go on . . ."

Ben sighed, knowing that was to come next was not going to be easy to explain. "I'm from another dimension, a parallel world that's very similar to this one. The only difference is that there aren't any monsters where I'm from. The closest thing we have would be millions of alien species on other planets living all across the galaxy, some of which just happen to resemble the monsters of this world."

"Alright . . .".

Her eerily calm tone was starting to make him uncomfortable, like when his parents would get him to confess to his latest antics and he would try to make them out as not as bad as they seemed; it always failed.

"This device is called the Omnitrix. It's a device that lets me transform into any of said million alien species, each with their own unique powers and abilities. One of them is a transformation I call Frankenstrike." he concluded as he held his wrist so she could see the aforementioned device. "Am I going too fast for you?"

Lagoona blinked with absolute astonishment as she tried to take in everything she had just been told. While she could wrap her head around the concept of other dimensions – it was still a rather shaky theory, but Monster High did cater to monsters from at least five different dimensions without issue if what the headmistress claimed was true – she just couldn't accept the fact that there was such things as aliens, especially ones that just happened to coincidentally bare resemblance to one of her closest ghoul friends. The odds were too astronomical, and that wasn't even disregarding the fact that all this power was fastened to the wrist of a seemingly random boy that could have just as easily walked into the wrong bathroom.

"Lagoona? Hello? You okay?"

The sea monster realized that she hadn't given a response in what must have been an uncomfortable amount of time and shook her head to clear her thoughts.. She stole a deep breath as she tried to keep herself calm.

"I . . . I want to believe ya, mate, but . . ."

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Sorry . . . ya seem like an alright guy, but ya gotta admit: sounds like ya gone completely troppo."

He honestly should have been expecting this, but a small part of him just couldn't help but be seriously annoyed that Lagoona didn't believe him. That left him with only one option.

"Alright then. Guess I'll just have to prove it . . ." he muttered more to himself than anyone else.

Lagoona was almost taken aback by how casual he seemed. Most people she knew didn't take well to being called crazy . . . just who was this boy? And why was he fiddling with his watch? It was just a watch, right? It couldn't have been some kind of super device like he was telling her. That kind of thing only happened in the movies, like teleporters and washing machines that didn't lose socks.

"Got any requests?" he suddenly looked up at her.

"What?"

"Anything specific you want me to turn into? I can't really make any promises – I swear, this thing has a mind of it's own – but I can at least, you know, try." he shrugged.

"Oh, um . . . oh, what the Hades, turn into somethin' that looks like me, mate." the sea monster sighed when she realized he wasn't going to let her go on this. "Go ahead. I nearly suffocated a few minutes ago – I could use a good laugh.

A smirk crossed his face when he seemed to make a selection and the faceplate of the watch suddenly slid back to reveal a button of some sort. A brilliant, green light lit up the bathroom as he pressed a finger down on the button, nearly blinding her in the process. "We'll see who's laughing soon enough!"

Ben's skin began to blister and crack horribly as if he were covered in a layer of mud that was baking under the hot sun, turning a pale shade of green in color and revealing themselves to be sharp, interlocking dermal denticles. The coating of groove-like scales raced up his arms as they swelled and pulsed with shifting muscle and tissue, traversing smoothly across his shoulders and down his chest. Ben's neck bloated as if he were having an allergic reaction and split open with the disquieting sound of wet flesh being ripped apart; a set of gills took form and sucked in a wet breath while they etched themselves further down his collarbone. Consequently, the brunette's nose was compressed back into his face as his skull elongated slightly and thrust out his lower jaw into a massive underbite riddled with crooked and wicked sharp teeth that tore through his gums into an unsettling smile. Sharp fins pushed themselves out of Ben's well muscled arms and along his spine while spike-like claws tore through his webbed fingers. A black and green loincloth of sorts that hung between his scaly legs formed around his waist while his forehead pulsed and bulged like a massive pimple was about to explode until a long, wiry antennae with a small, glowing sac at the end thrust itself from his skull. The transformation was completed when a black arm and neck brace materialized around his shoulders and a belt with the Omnitrix at the center around his waist.

"Alright, maybe not exactly like you, but close enough, right?" Ripjaws gave a sheepish, shark-like smile that had far too many teeth than was necessary.

The sea monster's jaw fell slack, threatening to drop straight to the floor, and her gills puffed open and shut with gasping breath, as if her struggle to believe made her struggle to breath. Lagoona swallowed anxiously and, without tearing her gaze from him, promptly slapped herself across the face. The sound echoed off the walls.

Yep, still there. And with just as many teeth as before.

She tried to keep herself calm. Without a word she pushed herself off the sink and took a cautious step towards the Piscciss Volann with great care, as if he would disappear before her very eyes if she moved too fast. Her cool, blue, webbed fingers reached out and tentatively touched his muscled arm, carefully tracing over the tooth-like scales laced over by a thin sheen of slime.

It was real. Genuinely real.

"Have you told anyone else, mate?" her voice was quiet when she looked up at him with those crystal blue orbs of hers.

Those deep, seaweed green eyes flickered away from her, as if in shame. "I'm afraid they'll be mad at me . . . you know how they feel about humans. Just look at what happened to that Jekyll kid . . ."

Lagoona did indeed know what poor Jackson Jekyll went through on a daily basis. He was often being mocked for being half-human and nothing more than a vessel for his monstrous alter ego, Holt Hyde. She could at least understand his hesitance.

"So what's yer plan, mate? Ya just gonna lie low and blend in?" she asked with a half-hearted suggestion. She immediately wished she hadn't mentioned the idea when he didn't look her full in the eye. "Mate, this isn't gonna-"

"For the time being, it will." the Piscciss Volann stated firmly with a slight growl to his voice. "Until I can do something to make them like me, to make it less . . .. disasterous, this has to stay between us . . . please?"

The Daughter of the Creature of the Black Lagoon was initially protestant but faltered in vocalizing her opinion when she saw the look in Ripjaw's eyes that said the conversation was over and that nothing she said or did was going to change his mind. She supposed that was to be expected; he was trapped in a world he knew practically nothing about, far away from anyone he could have ever known or loved with nothing but a device permanently strapped to his wrist to remind him of the home he once had. He was probably more concerned about finding a way back to his loved ones at this point than figuring out how to present himself to the people of the world he had chosen to hide among. It was probably for the best anyway; it would be much easier to leave when he found a way home if nobody knew he even existed.

That didn't mean she couldn't at least try and make his stay more pleasant. He hadn't tried to hurt her after all, and they actually shared a few common interests.

"If that's the way ya wanna play it, mate, I won't stop ya." she relented with a sigh. "We should probably meet up with the others. They're probably waitin' for us . . . er, at least me and Frankenstrike."

Ripjaws shrugged with a mixture of nonchalance and mild irritation. "Yeeeeah, the Omnitrix doesn't always give me what I want. I'll think of somethin' though. Always do." he walked towards the door, his webbed feet slapping against the floor with a slight clicking of razor-sharp claws. "You comin'?" he glanced over his shoulder.

"Better now than never." Lagoona shrugged, allowing a small smile to grace her lips when the Piscciss Volann held the door open for her. "Crikey, aren't we a gentlemonster? Thanks for the save back there, by the way."

"Hey, bein' a hero's what I do." he brushed it off with a toothy grin.

"Right. And I'm Queen Elizabite III!"

---

Clawdeen almost felt sorry for Frankie.

Ever since the young cadaver had begun to attend Monster High she had attempted over and over again to find a boyfriend of sorts for reasons the werewolf didn't fully understand; she got along just fine without one after all, especially after the last time she had opened her heart up to a man-ster. The werewolf supposed that Frankie was either trying to find some sort of male companion to share her time and interests with – going so far as to even try and create one with somewhat disastrous results – or was so desperate to try and still fit in that she believed that having a boyfriend was the answer to all her problems. Clawdeen could at least see the twisted logic in it, given that over half of their usual social circle had boos to call their own.

And now she was already falling for someone else who had only just started school that very morning. The werewolf could easily smell her hormone levels rising and the way her mint green cheeks would flush a crimson red every now and again never escaped her keen eyes. Or that of their other ghoul friends for that matter.

"What's the matter, Frankie? You look like you're eager about something. Or . . . someone?" Cleo teased with a slight smirk to her otherwise pouty, ruby lips.

The young cadaver blushed a bright cardinal and her bolts sparked with a sudden surge of electricity. "N-No, no one- I mean nothing!" she attempted to correct herself.

Draculaura squealed excitedly. "Oh, I totes knew it! You do have the hots for someone! Who is it?"

Clawdeen smirked and leaned back against an information booth with her arms folded over her bust, taking a small amount of pleasure in watching her ghoul friend squirm a bit; once, those same teasing words had been directed at her. "Come on, out with it, Frankie. Either my nose'll figure it out or La La's gonna explode first. Your pick." she taunted.

"W-Well . . . I don't know. He did just start school, after all."

"Ah, ha! I knew it!" Cleo proclaimed proudly.

A shrill shriek of excitement loud enough to be mistaken for a banshee's wailing escaped Draculaura's lips when she all but practically tackled Frankie into an excited, bone-crushing hug. "I knew it! You like him! You like him! You two would be totes adorbes together!" she babbled excitedly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Clawdeen shook her head with a knowing grin.

The vampire of course, was already firing off a million questions a second and offering her own suggestions in between her rapid fire interrogation session . "Is he super cute? What am I saying, he has to be super cute if you like him! Anyway, why do you like him? I mean, why do you like-like him, because there's a difference between liking someone and like-like someone, like how I like this pair of totes adorbes shoes that I own but I like-like Clawd, you know? Of course, you know, you like Frankenstrike! EEEEEEKK! That's so much fun to say! Anyway, does he like you? Have you told him? No, wait, of course you haven't told him, he just got here! That must mean it's love at first sight! Oh, that must be so exciting for you, Frankie, especially after all the . . . um, well, you know . . . oh, what am I saying? Of course it's love at first sight! He's so nice and handsome and strong and, oh, you're so lucky Frankie, I could just live! EEEEEEEEKKK!"

"What's all the ruckus about? We can hear you lot halfway 'cross the Maul!"

Clawdeen had smelled Lagoona approaching long before the sea monster had ever uttered a single word.. Her ears pricked up with interest however, when she heard a second set of feet – heavier and more likely to slap against the floor with the slight clicking of claws – and wrinkled her nose at an unfamiliar odor that smelled similar to sea salt. She turned to see the aforementioned sea monster approaching their little social circle with a rather unusual guest in tow. Unusual as in Clawdeen had never seen him before – at least she thought it was a 'he' – and he was tailing the Daughter of the Creature from the Black Lagoon as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Alarm bells initially went off in her head when she saw this unfamiliar monster trailing behind her friend – who wouldn't have been apprehensive? The monster looked like something drug up from the deepest depths of the darkest oceanic trench, with his blank, green eyes that seemed to stare right through her, powerful muscles and sharp, protruding fins from the joints and back, a strange phosphorescent light dangling from his head, and the most unsettling set of teeth Clawdeen had seen in a long while; when had this monster last seen the dentist, if ever?

The rest of her ghouls didn't seem to have noticed the strange monster right away though. "Oh, my ghoul, Lagoona! I've the biggest news!" Draculaura exclaimed excitedly.

"Do you now?" the sea monster quirked an eyebrow with a playful smile to her lips. "Well, don' keep us waitin', lay it on us, mate!"

"Lagoona, what do you mean by-" Cleo raised her brow with suspicion before she finally noticed the nigh prehistoric monster standing by her friend and towering over her with his imposing frame. The mummy only did the logical thing and immediately startled at his fearsome appearance, taking a few cautionary steps back.

"Cleo, what are you- EEK!" Draculaura yelped, instinctively taking cover behind Frankie when she set her sights on the mysterious monster that had set the Egyptian princess on edge. "Um, n-n-nice to m-meet you." she waved nervously in their general direction.

The sea monster chuckled and clapped a hand upon the aquatic creature's shoulder. "No worries, mate. This here's me new cobber, Ripjaws! Hard to believe, but his bark's actually worse than his bite." she joked, playfully tapping her finger on the tip of one of the Piscciss Volann's jagged fangs. "He just started workin' at the Coffin Bean, too!"

"Yep, workin' with my best friend! Big guy, too, covered in stitches with lots of bolts and energy to boot! Can't miss him." he chuckled. The uneasy look he got out of the corner of his eye didn't escape him.

Frankie immediately perked up at the description. "You know Frankenstrike? Do you know where he is?" she asked anxiously, her neck bolts crackling with a fair amount of electricity. She managed to suppress the light blush that so desperately wanted to turn her mint cheeks into a burning scarlet, but the way her heart fluttered just the slightest bit and the hopefulness in her voice was more than enough to earn teasing looks from her ghoul friends.

Ripjaws awkwardly shared a look with Lagoona for the briefest moment while he tried to come up with a good excuse. "Um, he, uh . . . he decided that . . . that he wanted to, um . . ." he struggled.

"He wanted to look around the Maul a little bit," Lagoona came to his rescue. "Said he would meet you back at your place unless your folks said otherwise."

"Thanks for the save." the Piscciss Volann whispered out of the corner of his jagged maw while Frankie's shoulders fell a little bit.

"Don't mention it." she waved it off. "So what's all the hullabaloo?"

At that, all apprehension and fear over Ripjaw's rather off-putting appearance was completely forgotten in favor of trying to calm down Draculaura long enough for the vegan vampire to put spaces between her words.

"Oh, my ghoul, Lagoona! You won't believe it!" she eagerly bounced up and down.

"Try me, mate. I've heard a lot of crazy things in my life." the sea monster couldn't help but give a small smile in Ripjaw's direction at the remark, earning a slightly riled look in return.

"Frankie's in love!"

Lagoona raised an eyebrow. "Really now? Who's the lucky bloke this time?" she tried to keep her tone free of as much sarcasm as possible. Needless to say, Frankie didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to having a love life..

"It's the new boo, Frankenstrike." Cleo replied with a slight smirk to her lips when she caught sight of the simulacrum's red face at the mere mention of his name. "Frankie has a crush on the new student."

"R-Really now? Congrats, mate!" Lagoona tried to hold her voice steady. Her eyes instinctively drifted back towards Ripjaws to try and read his expression and couldn't help but worry when she saw that his jaw had fallen completely slack and practically dropped to the ground in absolute shock.

"Hey, Ripjaws? You alright?" Clawdeen cocked a suspicious eyebrow.

The werewolf's challenging tone was enough to shake him out of his stupor. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah! Just . . . happy for my bro! He'll be so shocked when he finds out!"

At the sound of that, Frankie became immediately anxious. "Please don't tell him!" she pleaded hastily. "I don't want to overwhelm him when he's only just got here!"

"Sure, that's the only reason." Cleo rolled her eyes with a teasing tone.

Needless to say, the Piscciss Volann was absolutely, completely, and utterly dumbfounded, so much so that he hardly heard any part of the following conversation. He could hardly believe it . . . not even an entire day in this strange, new world and someone already had a crush on him – or at least, one version of him – and a very beautiful girl at that. His status as a universe-saving hero often had members of the opposite sex pining for his affections, everything from crazed fangirls to the heirs of powerful, alien empires. But even that didn't compare to the beautiful ghoul who had managed to so quickly capture his heart . . . it was almost like it was a dream, a fantasy of some kind . . .

"Ripjaws? Ripjaws? Ripjaws!"

The sound of Frankie's pleading voice broke him out of his trance and he snapped back to reality with a shake of his head, receiving odd looks of confusion and minor disgust from Cleo and Draculaura when they were accidentally lightly showered with the slime that coated his body. "What? Somebody say somethin'?"

"Please don't tell Frankenstrike?" Frankie was practically begging, her hands clasped beseechingly.

All it took was a single look from those stunning, heterochromatic eyes for Ripjaws' heart to melt and for him to instantly agree. "Alright, alright, I won't say anything." he promised.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" the Daughter of Frankenstein cried relief, immediately latching onto and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug that squeezed the very breath from his lungs. The fact that his entire, slick, wet body acted as a conductor for Frankie's crackling bolts did not help matters much either, especially when he received a very painful shock in the process.

Ripjaws groaned, tendrils of smoke curling from his chard body. "Uuuuuuugggh . . ."

"Sorry about that. It happens when I get . . . uh, a little too excited." she smiled sheepishly.

"What smells like a giant fish fry?"

"Clawd!" Draculaura cried happily as she dropped her shopping bags, broke away from the group and rushed over to give her boyfriend a hug and kiss; to say that Ripjaws was a little surprised, was a bit of an understatement. For starters, he was a werewolf – a species that rarely ever got along with vampire's if what that awful movie series said was true – and he was easily twice her size, absolutely dwarfing her with his impressive height and athletic build. Undoubtedly, that meant he was a member of Monster High's various sports teams, if the Letterman jacket that he wore with pride didn't give it away first. His eyes were bright and gold and he wore a pair of black jeans, gold boots, and a belt that tied his whole choice of attire together with his furry sideburns and sloping buzz cut.

Coming up behind Clawd were a pair of other man-sters that must have been close friends of his. The first was a man-ster that was the closest resemblance to a human Ripjaws had seen all day, save for a few distinct features. He had piercing, venom green eyes behind a pair of red sunglasses with black shades and he was of a relatively tall stature with remarkably handsome features, such as a strong jawline and muscular build. Where hair might have been on a human's head there was instead a nest of hissing snakes that was pulled up into something that resembled a Mohawk with dark green scales lining the rest of his scalp; a green scale pattern coated his left bicep. He wore a pair of black jeans decorated with scale-like designs, a red shirt bearing a white skull under a horizontally-striped, gray vest, and multiple chains whenever and wherever possible to compliment his pair of black-and-white checkered sneakers.

The second man-ster was a bit more unusual looking. He was covered in what might have been slimy, amphibious skin or thousands of tiny, light blue scales and had spiky fins growing from his neck and elbows where visible. His eyes were a cool, placid gray and the fin protruding from his scalp draped over one side, most likely due to the fact that his entire head was encased in a water helmet that sat a little heavy on his shoulders. He wore a plain, purple T-shirt under a Monster High Letterman jacket with the sleeves decorated with patterns of crashing ocean waves and a pair of khaki pants to go with his sandals.

"Nice of you show up, darling." Cleo smiled sweetly, pecking her boyfriend on the cheek.

"Wouldn't miss it, babe." Deuce Gorgon grinned, wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

Lagoona beamed brightly and waved at her boyfriend. "Gil!"

"Hey, Lagoona!" the river monster smiled, tightly embracing his ghoulfriend. Kisses would unfortunately have to wait for a time he could take off his helmet, not that she minded all that much. It just made those moments all the more special.

Clawdeen tried to avoid watching her older brother and beast friend being so loving with one another. It wasn't that she wasn't adverse to their relationship – at least not at first – but she always felt . . . left out whenever Draculaura or any of her other ghoul friends would talk about their boyfriends with her; she simply couldn't relate. She had never really had an interest in finding a boyfriend herself, mostly because most of the guys and man-sters she met simply didn't . . . click with her. They just didn't feel right.

The werewolf cleared her throat, attempting to make herself feel less awkward. "Hey, uh, Lagoona? Why don' ya introduce yer new friend?"

The sea monster nodded. "Gil, I'd like you to meet Ripjaws. He just started working at the Coffin Bean today." she gestured towards the Piscciss Volann, who attempted to give as friendly a smile as he could muster.

Needless to say, it came off more as unsettling than friendly if the way the river monster's eyes widened was any indication. "Um . . . hi?" he gulped when he caught sight of the cage of razor-sharp fangs that greeted him.

Lagoona laughed when she noticed her boyfriend's unease. "Don't worry, luv. His bark's worse than his bite. He wouldn't hurt a guppy!" she reassured him, which did little to help her boyfriend. He just couldn't keep his eyes off those teeth!

"So . . . you a new student, dude?" Deuce tried to fill the lull in the conversation.

Ripjaws nodded. "Yeah, just started today."

Clawd grinned. "Cool! Why don't you hang out with us for a while, bro? You need a place to stay?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Clawdeen shook her head, sending her mane of auburn, chocolate curls whipping back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. "Have you somehow forgotten what it's like sharin' a bathroom at our house? The last thing we need is an overgrown fish stick sleepin' in the tub when I'm tryin' to take a shower! Uh . . . no offense." she added sheepishly.

"None taken." the Piscciss Volann shrugged. "Besides, I already got a place to crash."

Lagoona eagerly rubbed her hands together and licked her lips. "Well now that that's all settled, what's say we grab a feed, eh?"

"That means we're getting somethin' to eat, right?" Ripjaws whispered to Gil as they all started heading off in the direction of the Food Corpse and chatted with each other to pass the time.

"Yeah, you eventually pick up on the Mossie slang," the freshwater monster confirmed with a nod on his head. "A-And just so we're clear-"

"I swear, we're just friends. That's all there is to it." Ripjaws solemnly promised, glancing at the Omnitrix around his waist out of the corner of his eye. Without much other choice – not like he had many others – he sent off a mental prayer that the universe would spare him from it's usual antics.

Of course, knowing his relationship with the universe, it probably wouldn't.

---

It was dark.

To anyone else, this would have been a problem. To mortals, it would have been a catastrophe. Since time immemorial, they had feared the dark. They made their little fires and went on to light up their world as time marched forward, all in a desperate attempt to push back as much of the darkness and the unknowable entities it concealed within itself.

But he was born of darkness and the darkness was made to serve his purposes. It embraced him like a child might a beloved friend, as if he were a part of it. He commanded it like a general might command his army and it obeyed him like an army might obey their general. It heeded him without question, without hesitation. It heard his wishes and granted them forthwith.

But even he could not command the darkness to kill. That was something the darkness could only help him with. The sword could not kill when it was commanded, it could only help the warrior who wielded it to kill. The darkness was his sword. And he was its warrior.

A flutter of wings caught his attention and he looked towards the endless expanse of the night sky. A crisp rectangle of soft moonlight cast itself through the open window, its perfect luminescence only disturbed by the shadow that perched itself upon the windowsill.

A seagull.

With the gentle lapping of the river behind him, he stared from his post of vigilance within the shadows. It always boggled him how many useless creatures the universe seemed to spawn forth, creatures too simple-minded or infuriating to even tolerate for more than a moment. The insipid, white creatures were at the top of a very long list of such creatures that he so heavily despised. What truly amazed him however, was how quickly they had done it.

It had been little more than two weeks since he had arrived in this new world, where the moon smiled down upon one with a playfully malicious smile and the smell of fear and distrust came in heavy on the wind. In a way, it almost reminded him of home.

It had taken less than a day for him to grow tiresome of the creatures' constant shrieking. After two days, he became annoyed at how they fought each other over the most useless of barely edible scraps like they were some priceless treasure. By the time three days had passed, he had begun to loathe them with every fiber of their being - how their feathers would get everywhere, how they continuously soiled the very ground they so haughtily flew over with their creamy, white filth, how they were drawn to the smell of death and decay like flies to a rotting carcass.

How they were drawn to him.

After the first attack, many of them had learned to resist the smell of putrid rot that surrounded him and avoided him. Though ravenous for even the most disgusting of morsels, it seemed the sight of their beheaded brethren was enough to spoil their appetites and leave him well enough alone.

Most of them, anyway.

The seagull – this individual in particular – was braver than most. Or perhaps more foolish. Maybe more determined. Whatever it was, it was certainly faster than him, always able to elude even the swiftest of his strikes by just the tip of its tail feathers. It mocked him with its beady eyes that looked at him like balls of polished glass, clicking its beak in a teasing manner.

He tightened his grip and willed the darkness to envelop him, to pull him deeper into its folds and conceal him. It obeyed without question and wrapped its inky, black tendrils around him, pulling him deeper into its sanctum. Once he was certain that he could not be reached, he spared a glance towards the floor where a single fish whose insides had been cleaved open, lay in waiting.

Bait.

He turned his gaze back towards the seagull. The rest of his brothers and sisters had grown wise to the danger that he presented and stayed well away from him and his quarters. Even the most enticing of meals would be ignored if they were so much an inch within his domain. It was as if there was an invisible line that surrounded him that they dare not cross.

This one however, did more than just dare. It barged right in with reckless abandon, heedless of the risks.

Heedless of him.

With a flap of its snowy wings, the bird threw itself from the windowsill and silently glided to the ground, landing with the soft scraping of its webbed toes. It paused for a moment to set its wings right, even taking a moment to preen at that particular patch of feathers that always stuck out at an awkward angle.

It was confident. Cocky. It had no reason to fear.

It scuttled across the concrete, the sound of its webbed feet pitter-pattering against the floor bouncing off the walls. Drawing a loose figure eight, it toyed with him, always hovering just out of reach of the fish. It knew he was there and yet it had the audacity to play with him.

He tightened his grip even harder, his claws digging into his palm.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it approached the fish. It watched him with those glassy eyes that he despised so much – he knew it couldn't see him and yet it somehow knew he was right there, waiting for it. Watching it.

It bent down to peck at the fish. It was a halfhearted peck though, one without effort or drive. It was trying to reverse the trap he had laid out for it, trying to make him lose his patience and strike, only to fly out of the way with that insufferable, laughing cry.

He stilled his blade. He couldn't afford to give himself away. Not now.

The bird continued to peck at the dead fish, occasionally tearing off a fin or nibbling at its intestines. It was as if it were testing him, waiting to see whether or not it could lure him into a false sense of security and make him break.

But he would not break. The dark did not break. It merely retreated when necessary, when the blinding light of the day star forced it to seek shelter in the places where it could not reach. And he was the dark.

The seagull wedged its beak under the fish, ready to take its prize and fly away. It continued to look at him, even as the fish continued to slip from its beak over and over again. It dared not look away for a second. It knew that the moment it looked away, he would have the advantage. That was the only reason it had continued to best him until now – it had all the advantages it could ever need.

His impatience.

His pride.

His dignity.

It once had all of these within the metaphorical palm of its hand. It knew how to spin them like threads, to weave them in such a way that they left him trapped and bound like the helpless fly that foolishly fell into the spider's web.

But he had watched. And he had learned. His countless years of experience had taught him that the best way to outwit an enemy was to study them, to learn from them, to figure out what made them tick and how to make them tock when it best suited him. He had learned and he had watched until the revolting creature before him no longer had the advantages it could ever need.

The seagull looked down for a split seco-

SKLISH!

He finally released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. A cruel, wicked sense of joy bubbled from within his chest and he allowed a low, whispered chuckle to escape his parched lips. Cleaning his blade of the single blot of crimson blood, he knelt down to pick up the decapitated head of the bird.

He curled his fingers tighter around its skull, relishing in the momentary flash of fear that was now forever emblazoned in those lifeless, glassy eyes. After being tormented for so long, to say that look brought him a small amount of amusement would have been an understatement.

"Master."

He tightened his grip around the pathetic creature's skull a bit more, relishing in the soft crack of its brittle bones. "Yes, my loyal servant?"

"It is done. The last of the witnesses have been secured and contained."

"Well done." he wheezed.

"Master . . . what shall we do with them?"

At this, he looked to the head of the bird he now cradled in his hand. With little effort, he thoughtlessly crushed it between his fingers, grinning a toothy smile when he felt its blood and brains spill between his bony knuckles.

"Dispose of them however you see fit," he instructed. Bending over, he picked up the lifeless body by a limp wing and tossed it over his shoulder. There came a sharp crunch! as his faithful attendant snatched the corpse out of the air, crushing its fragile bones with his tremendous strength; the soft sound of its frail skeleton being broken filled the cold expanse of the warehouse. "Do try and keep some of them alive, however. Insufferable as they may be . . . even they have their uses."

"Yes, master . . . thank you, master . . ."

He allowed himself a small smile beneath the light of the full moon. He was born of the dark and the dark was made to serve his purposes. But even the darkness had use for such pathetic creatures.

And there's the next chapter! Let me know if I did a good job at writing the Monster High gang. Leave any suggestions below, and I will try to have the next chapter out in a few weeks. Schools, starting, so things are gonna get crazy.