The Libury was a cold and drafty place filled with dust bunnies, creaky furniture, and the greatest monster stories ever told. Organized by species, the tales featured or were written by every type of creature imaginable, from the popular to the obscure. These volumes were more than just Ghoulish Literature; they were Monstory, the history of monsters as told by the creatures themselves.
Dr. Clamdestine entered the Libury just as the bell clanged, signifying the start of class. Dressed in a tweed suit with dark brown patches at the elbows and carrying a large leather satchel, the middle-aged sea monster definitely looked the part of literature professor, albeit one with a faint whiff of salt water.
Dr. Clamdestine: Students!
Dr. Clamdestine greeted the class before dramatically lowering his head for a thirty-second period of silence. After which he pulled a pipe from his jacket pocket and continued.
Dr. Clamdestine: I find cleansing my mental palate very helpful before diving into Ghoulish Literature.
Rochelle: Pardonnez-moi, Dr. Clamdestine, but smoking is definitely not allowed at Monster High. Plus, it is very, very bad for you.
Venus: And us. It totally makes me wilt.
Y/N: Also this is a school.
Dr. Clamdestine: This isnât a pipe, young students. It may look like a pipe, but it is definitely not a pipe. In actuality, it is a well-carved hunk of cheese, one that I will likely eat for lunch later. You see, teaching is very similar to acting; both professions use props to aid in the accessing of different characters. And this cheese pipe is currently helping me access my intellectual persona, the great Dr. Clamdestine.
Robecca: Dear me, I think that sounds a lot more like a circus performer than a teacher.
Y/N: You get used to it, surprisingly.
The ghouls decided to take your word for it.
Dr. Clamdestine: Now then, for my monologue, also known as roll call.
Dr. Clamdestine put away his cheese pipe and pulling out a clipboard.
Dr. Clamdestine: Lagoona Blue? Draculaura? Jackson Jekyll or Holt Hyde? Deuce Gorgon?
As the names of her classmates echoed throughout the room, Rochelle eyed the eternally sunglasses-clad Deuce Gorgon. She found him both handsome and intriguing. Perhaps it was because he wasnât crafted out of granite or because she was one of the few people at school who might one day look into his eyes. Since she was already made of stone, Deuceâs Gorgon snake stare posed no threat to her.
Dr. Clamdestine: Cleo de Nile?
Upon hearing the name of Deuceâs girlfriend, Rochelle quickly snapped out of her haze, remembering that she too was taken. Why, only a few days earlier in Scaris, she had said goodbye to her lovable gargoyle boyfriend, Garrott. Just thinking about Garrott filled her with overwhelming guilt.
You noticed this as well and decided to stay out of it. It was just a crush. You will say something once it became a problem. For now, she was new and still trying to get a handle on things.
While Rochelle pondered the moral implications of her burgeoning crush, Venus sat next to her, seething with rage over Cleo de Nileâs large collection of shopping bags.
Venus: Look at all those paper bags! Itâs downright irresponsible. Sheâs basically a tree killer.
You slowly lifted your head with wide eyes, knowing that this was not going to end well.
Robecca: Jeez Louise, Venus, donât you think âtree killerâ is a bit harsh? Maybe she just forgot her reusable shopping bag at home. I forget things all the time.
Robecca was hoping to appease Venusâs growing environmental rage. But Venus was not the type of monster who was easily placated. And before Robecca knew it, Venus was waving her light green arms in the air, desperate to garner Cleoâs attention.
Venus: Hey, Cleo, over here. The nameâs Venus. Iâm new to Monster High.
Cleo: Welcome.
Cleo voice was frostily.
Venus: It looks like you did some serious back-to-school shopping this morning. That must have been a lot of fun. But do you know what would have been even more fun? Bringing your own reusable bag to the Maul and saving a treeâs life!
Cleo: Why are you talking to me about my bags and trees and stuff? Do I look like a forest ranger or garbage collector to you?
Venus: Iâll have you know that those are two of the noblest professions in the world. They are on the front lines every day fighting antienvironmentalists like you! Do you even realize that we need trees to produce oxygen?
Venus' vines curled tightly around her fists.
Pumpkin Head: Fight like youâre right! Fight with all your might!
Cleo: Way to spaz out, weed.
Cleo turned to Clawdeen and, by extension, you.
Cleo: She is definitely not Fearleading or Frightingale material.
The Frightingale Society was the schoolâs all-girls social club. A literal whoâs who of teenage monsters and, as such, very hard to get into.
Lagoona: Ah, mate, sheâs just trying to keep the world healthy for all of us.
Cleo: Whatever. Y/N, control your new friends.
Venusâs face continued to grow redder with rage. You just threw your hands up, unsure how you managed to get dragged into this.
Rochelle: Venus, Iâm concerned about your blood pressure; you look like youâre about to explode. I would advise you to continue this conversation later.
Venus: The planet cannot wait for later!
Cleo: How about I see you later? Or better yet, never?
Venusâs nose twitched and her cheeks bulged before she expelled a most thunderous sneeze. You immediately covered your nose and mouth, recognizing what the pollen was. The bright orange cloud of pollen descended upon Cleo de Nile, miraculously missing any of the surrounding students.
Deuce: Babe, are you okay? Are your clothes okay?
He was worried that Cleo might be more distressed about the state of her clothing than anything else.
Cleo: Of course I am.
You all sat back at the uncharacteristic warmth and kindness before you all turned to Venus.
Cleo: Thank you for showing me the error of my ways. Youâre absolutely right; it is irresponsible to shop without a reusable bag. As a matter of fact, I am going to commission a solid gold bag that will last forever! Thank you, Venus, thank you!
Rochelle: A solid gold bag would be very heavy, nearly impossible to carry.
Deuce then sweetly put his hand on Cleoâs forehead.
Deuce: Babe, youâre really freaking me out right now. Are you sure youâre not upset about being sneezed on?
Having watched the drama unfold as if it were a theatrical production staged for his enjoyment, Dr. Clamdestine finally decided it was time to step in.
Dr. Clamdestine: Let me guess. Venus McFlytrap?
Venus: Yes, thatâs me, Dr. Clamdestine.
He then turned to you. You grumbled under your breath before getting up and walking over to Venus.
Dr. Clamdestine: Pollens of persuasion are strictly prohibited at school.
Venus: I know. Iâm really sorry.
She couldnât believe she had lost control of her pollens so soon after arriving at Monster High.
Dr. Clamdestine: As a connoisseur of drama, I appreciate your passion. However, as a teacher, I cannot allow you to use your pollens of persuasion without repercussions.
He then called into the hall.
Dr. Clamdestine: Troll? Troll? Would the closest troll please come to the Libury?
Within seconds, an extraordinarily chubby gray-haired troll with a pulsating red nose waddled into the room. After looking around for a few seconds, the troll followed Dr. Clamdestineâs gaze directly to Venus McFlytrap. The troll then toddled over to Venus, promptly wiped his nose on his hand, and motioned for her to follow him into the hall.
Rochelle: Bon chance.
Rochelle began waving her pink-monogrammed handkerchief in the air.
Robecca: Donât let him eat you.
Y/N: I wouldnât worry about that. Trolls are vegetarians. Besides, I'll be with them to explain the situation.
Robecca: Good golly, that is good to know, thank you!
You nodded and started out of the class with Venus and the troll.
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Once in the main corridor, the troll again used his grimy hand as a tissue. It was a visually arresting sight, one that prompted Venus to look down at the purple-checkered floor in disgust. You were also pretty grossed out, but you kept quiet.
Venus: Do you know what I do whenever I have a cold? Swallow loads of vitamin C, drink plenty of fluids, and, here is the most important part, only blow my nose with handkerchiefs. This will not only help you get better but also help you socially. Because if there is one thing that turns off potential friends, itâs booger-encrusted hands.
Y/N: You're literally talking to a rock, V. They don't care.
Troll: No time. You must listen. Bad thing here.
You looked down at the troll confused. What did he mean by that?
Venus: Is that your way of saying I have detention?
Troll: Bad thing here, ruin school.
The troll began looking around suspiciously. You also lokked around. What was he talking about.
Y/N: I donât understand.
Troll: Happen before. Now bad thing here. You must listen. Stop bad thing. You Van Helsing.
Y/N: Iâm sorry, I donât understand Trollish that well. I have no idea what you are trying to tell me.
Troll: Too late.
The elderly red-nosed creature whispered something before ducking into a passing pack of trolls.
You and Venus stopped walk looked back, but the pack was already trotting along like nothing had happened. Venus looked at you for answer, but you had no clue what that was about.
What was this "bad thing" and how would it ruin the school? Further more, why did the troll even tell you?
Venus: So, uh, are we still going to the office?
You snapped out of your thoughts and looked down the hall. Bloodgood was acting weird lately, so you decided it would probably be best to just leave her alone.
Y/N: No. Consider this your one get out jail free card. Let's just head back for now.
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Mr. Hackington, aka Mr. Hack, was perhaps the schoolâs most unpleasant-looking teacher, with his metal mask, oversized chin, and pointy, elf-like ears. He was a mad scientist who rather appropriately taught Mad Science in the Absolutely Deranged Scientist Laboratory, a room brimming with Bunsen burners, microscopes, and vials of potent potions. With a keen understanding of the recklessness that comes with being a teenager, Mr. Hack kept all treacherous liquids under lock and key.
Mr. Hack: Botany, the study of plants, is one of my favorite sections, for it allows me to teach homeopathic zombification.
Mr. Hack broke into hysterical laughter.
Mr. Hack: Now then, does anyone know what Burnwidth Serum turns into when heated to one hundred degrees Fahrenheit?
Deuce: Really hot Burnwidth Serum?
Hoodude: Mr. Hack doesnât like jokes.
Hoodude went back to scribbling Frankie Steinâs name on the front of his notebook. You and Deuce both watched him before looking at each other. You both scooted away.
Mr. Hack: Thatâs pathetic, Gorgon!
A trio of pumpkin heads at the back of the class sang quietly.
Pumpkin Heads: What serum? What serum? I wish I could hear him!
Mr. Hack: What about you, McFlytrap? Youâre a plant. Surely you must know all about the derivatives of the Burnwidth Bush?
Venus: Um, um, umâ¦
Venus literally began wilting under her teacherâs intent gaze.
Y/N: It turns into a zombification serum for coldblooded creatures.
Mr. Hack: You are correct, Van Helsing!
Mr. Hack excitedly smashed a metal tray against the counter and laughing intensely.
Mr. Hack: I love hearing the right answer!
Robecca: What a well-oiled mind that human must have! How else could he know such a thing?
Robecca looked over at you as you and Deuce gave each other fist bumps. You were pretty smart for a human.
Venus: Well, he is the nephew to the world's most famous monster hunter. I'm sure he knows a few things.
Venus clearly didn't trust you, but Robecca was eager to learn more.
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After Mad Science came Home Eek and finally Physical Deaducation. Much to your delight, Robecca too had decided to join the Skulltimate Roller Maze team. But then she was, after all, one of the founders of the game, back in the eighteenth century, before she was dismantled.
Rochelle, while a very good Roller Maze player, decided to stay put with Venus in Graveyard Dancing. Both girls were quite keen to learn the mumba (the mummiesâ take on the rumba).
Dimly lit, with countless pathways crafted of thick and prickly hedges, the maze was a vast space that seemed to trick the mind at every turn. The tall and neatly manicured bushes lulled newcomers into a false sense of safety, masking the enormity of the arena. Bats perched atop bars just below the ceiling acted as camera crew, documenting the playersâ every move.
And while most of the labyrinth was neatly maintained, Headmistress Bloodgood treated more than a few pockets like de facto storage units, filled with old desks and rusted contraptions. But then again, the maze was only used for practice; official games were played elsewhere.
Ever the daredevil, Robecca threw herself into Skulltimate Roller Maze training without so much as a second thought. Within minutes, she was buzzing through the dark green hedges, courtesy of her special rocket boots, occasionally even stopping to perform aerial stunts. Robeccaâs ability to fly over the maze and rescue bewildered teammates made her an instant favorite.
Hours later, long after the bell had clanged to signal the end of Physical Deaducation, Robecca abruptly dashed out of the maze. With her rocket boots still smoking, she stormed into the main corridor, desperate to find someone with a watch or an iCoffin. Robecca had rather unfortunately left her iCoffin in one of her previous classes, but she hadnât a clue which one.
Robecca: Oh, please! Tell me, what time is it? Iâm late!
Robecca begged for the time as she saw Frankie and her werewolf friend Clawdeen making their way down the main hall.
Frankie: Hey, whatâs the hurry?
Clawdeen stepped back, away from Robecca.
Clawdeen: Sorry! Youâre steaming, and I donât want to get fur frizz. You understand, right?
Robecca: Oh, of course! Fur frizz is the absolute fleaâs sneeze! But tell me, do you know what time it is? Iâm sure Iâm late for something. I just canât remember what!
As Frankie looked at her watch, a small and quiet voice came as if out of nowhere.
Y/N: Five PM.
You were holding a terribly sour-faced Penny the penguin. A mechanical creation of Robecca's design.
Y/N: I think you forgot someone in the maze.
You lowered Penny to the ground. Robecca immediately scooped her friend up and hugged her.
Robecca: Dear me! Penny, I am so sorry!
You looked to Frankie and Clawdeen and gestured for them to talk to the girl. The two hesitated, but they were going to ask anyway.
Frankie: Hey, the Frightingale Society is about to have its first meeting of the year, if you and your roomies are interested. Itâs sort of like a sorority. We do all kinds of stuff together, everything from learning monster etiquette to getting manicures, or, in some cases, clawdicures.
Robecca seemed keen to the idea, but she quickly backed down at the offer.
Robecca: Thank you, Frankie. That really does sound swell, but Rochelle and I wouldnât want to join without Venus. And, well, letâs just say Venus and Cleoâs relationship could use a steam cleaning.
Clawdeen: Oh, of course, the infamous sneeze. You know mummies, they can really hold a grudge.
Y/N: Especially Cleo.
Frankie and Clawdeen both said their goodbyes and walked off. You decided it was about time for you to head home as well, seeing as the swim club had called an early practice. Abbey already beat you too it, but you enjoyed quiet walks.
Y/N: See you tomorrow, Robecca. Have a good night.
You waved to her and walked off.
Rochelle sighed as she watched you walk away. She couldnât wait to start joining clubs at Monster High.