Paranormal University: Second Semester: An Unveiled Academy Novel

by Jace Mitchell

  “Oh, we can, and we shall,” Jack sat up and grinned broadly. He pulled up both sleeves, taking his time on the arm with his scar.

  Dr. Byron nodded. “Yes, Mr. Teams. We all know of your bravery. I do believe right now they’re writing epic songs and poems about you. But as much as I know you want to impress the opposite sex of this class, I was hoping we could stick more to the subject at hand?”

  “Of course.” Jack smiled, leaning forward so that his arm was visible to the entire class. “That’s all I meant.”

  Byron sighed dramatically. “I’m sure it is. So, since you’re so interested, where do you think I was going with this line of thought?”

  The smile on Jack’s face faded, and one bloomed across Claire’s.

  “I… Well, um. I…” he stammered.

  Clearly, Jack had only perked up when he heard the word vampire.

  Claire decided to throw him a lifeline. “What he’s asking is, what kind of numbers were we facing with the vampires?”

  Dr. Byron sighed. “As much as I love how you two have obviously melded minds, and you can tell what Mr. Teams is thinking, I was hoping he would share. However, you—or Mr. Teams—is right. How many vampires attacked Boston?”

  Jack’s grin returned, and he leaned back in his chair. “Hundreds,” he replied confidently. “Hundreds, and only the three of us to protect everyone.”

  Samantha had turned around and was looking at Dr. Byron, but Jack didn’t seem to care. He was in his element.

  “Well, four of us,” Marissa chimed in. “We had help.”

  “Frank was barely there,” Jack denied smoothly. “So were you two. It was mainly me.”

  Claire rolled her eyes at the same time Dr. Byron did.

  “Yes, we know you saved the world single-handedly, Mr. Teams,” the professor continued. “But you’re right, there were a lot of them. Perhaps more than hundreds, to be accurate. We’re still finding some of the vampires that had been summoned over.” Dr. Byron turned and started pacing. “It never ceases to amaze me how slow some of you are. The question I wanted us to address we are just now getting to after ten minutes. I wonder if the FBI is doing this purposefully to cause me an early death.”

  He reached the end of the row, turned, and started walking back. “Nevertheless, I must do my duty and continue trying to educate those such as Mr. Teams. For if not me, then who?”

  The whole class was smiling now. Everyone but Samantha, who still didn’t understand Dr. Byron’s humor.

  Byron waved a hand. “Now, the question at hand is, what could create the least amount of creatures?”

  “The newest myths,” Jack shouted out, clearly wanting to show he wasn’t a complete idiot.

  “Ms. Hallor?” Dr. Byron placed his hands behind his back as he continued his slow pace. “Is he correct?”

  Now Marissa grinned wildly. “Yes, and no.”

  Dr. Byron stopped walking and turned around, his face full of mock surprise. “Tell me you’re kidding. There is simply no way Mr. Teams is wrong.”

  Still smiling, Marissa nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “I do not believe it.” Dr. Byron stomped his foot on the ground. A few kids in the front laughed loud enough for Claire to hear. “Tell us how.”

  Marissa pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Well, from the best we can tell, two things determine the number of creatures that can be summoned. The strength of belief and the length of time.”

  Dr. Byron turned his head to Jack. “Is she right, Mr. Teams?”

  Jack nodded quickly. “Of course. That’s what I meant. I just wanted to give her a chance to speak again.”

  Dr. Byron rolled his eyes, then smiled. He looked down at the floor. “Your kindness is truly stunning, Mr. Teams. Ms. Hallor is correct. The strength of belief in the summoner and the length of time the myth has been in circulation may determine the number of creatures that can be summoned. Besides the three in the middle, who seem to want to dominate the conversation at all costs, who else can expand on this?”

  Daniel Brand raised his hand from the left.

  Dr. Byron sighed. “Mr. Brand, don’t make me tell you about raising hands. Please. We’re past that.”

  “Sorry, Dr. Byron.” Daniel grinned sheepishly. “It’s counter-intuitive. The stronger the belief, the less of them can be summoned.”

  Dr. Byron pointed to the binder. “Did you read ahead?”

  “No.” Daniel shook his head. “I was discussing it with Samantha earlier. It’s sort of her idea.”

  “Ah, the newcomer.” Dr. Byron turned to her. “Well, since what Mr. Brand said was correct, tell us what you two talked about.”

  Claire caught Jack looking at Daniel. It wasn’t a happy look. I think he wants to be talking with Samantha.

  Samantha tucked her hair behind her ear as she began speaking. “Well, the stronger the belief, the fewer Mythers you’re going to encounter. At least, that’s what the current thinking says.”

  “So,” Dr. Byron asked, “For Dracula, could there be a lot of them?”

  Samantha shook her head. “No. They might be able to summon one or two more, but most likely not more than that. There are fewer of that type of creatures available.”

  “Why?”

  Samantha shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Dr. Byron nodded. “That’s okay. Clearly, we don’t have the brightest pupils in this class, so we’ll wait on brighter minds to figure that piece out. The important thing to note is the stronger the belief, the fewer the number of creatures that exist beyond the Veil because the belief of the masses is focused on the same iteration. So, for Santa Claus, given the number of children who believe, there might only be one or two, and the differences will be cultural. Now, length of time. How does that come in to play?”

  She’s confident, Claire thought about Samantha. Not cocky, though. I don’t think Jack’s going to have much of a chance with his current game.

  “The longer the belief lasts, the more of them there can be,” Samantha continued. “That’s why there were so many vampires. The belief has been around for hundreds of years, and it is widespread and varied between cultures. Hundreds of vampires really aren’t that many for such a long time. There could have been a lot more.”

  Dr. Byron took a step closer to the class. He looked down at his watch and then back up. “I must somehow work to make you all smarter or perhaps figure out how to transfer my knowledge via osmosis. Otherwise, we will not finish anything in this class. But yes, Ms. Howard, you’re correct. The longer the belief has been held, and the more cultural variations in the belief systems, the more possibilities there are for summoning, which is why the powers that be feel this class is so important. Not that you are more likely to see certain creatures, but that there are certain Mythers that can be pulled over in massive numbers.”

  The professor’s eyes were alight. “Any idea what our greatest fear would be if sheer numbers were involved?”

  Marissa swallowed. “Ghosts. Humans have believed in the afterlife since we were writing on caves.”

  Dr. Byron grinned. “Precisely.”

  The three of them were lying on the back lawn. They had towels laid out, and the day was unseasonably warm.

  Jack was on his back, tossing a tennis ball to himself. “Fuck Byron.” Jack tossed the ball up into the air, catching it as it came back down. “He’s always talking shit. Just constantly.”

  And complaining, Claire thought. He’s doing that, too.

  “Funny,” Marissa said. “I don’t remember you bitching this much about Dr. Byron before. What changed?”

  Claire smiled slightly. Her eyes were closed, and she was enjoying the sun shining down on her. She knew where Marissa was going with the question.

  “Nothing changed.” Jack tossed the ball again. “He just gets on my nerves.”

  “You sure?” Marissa asked.

  Claire’s smile widened.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” He turned over on his side and looked at Ma
rissa. “What else would it be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe that pretty blonde down in the front. Samantha. Did you see her, Claire?”

  Claire nodded, shoving her smile away. “Yeah, I happened to notice her. Did you, Jack?”

  Jack’s face scrunched up. “Who?”

  Claire laughed. “Please. I saw you even eyeing Daniel when he said he’d hung out with her. Everyone in that room knows you have a thing for her.”

  Jack shook his head and rolled over on his back again. “No way. I imagine she has a thing for me, but that’s par for the course. I didn’t even know her name before you said it right now. I just get tired of Byron always talking trash.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Claire responded. “Convince yourself of it, but you’re not convincing me.”

  “Me either,” Marissa agreed.

  The three were quiet for a few minutes. Claire knew they had things to study. The theory classes were going well, but they’d introduced a spells class that was really going to be a bitch.

  Last semester had been hard in its own ways—primarily since their unit had spent the end of it trying to kill an ancient, all-powerful vampire. This one looked like it was going to be less deadly, but that meant more classes. More thinking. More work.

  Marissa wouldn’t have a problem, but Claire thought that she and Jack were going to have a tough time.

  Studying ahead seemed like a sensible thing to do. Yet, she didn’t want to leave the lawn. It felt too nice.

  “Hey,” Jack said, interrupting the silence. “You heard from Frank at all?”

  “Nope.” Claire opened her eyes and looked into the blue sky. “Not since he went down to Miami. Sorta pissed me off, if I’m honest.”

  “Ha!” Jack laughed. “Why? Don’t like that Frank doesn’t need you?”

  Claire shrugged, not taking the bait. “The bastard hasn’t even checked in on me is why. If he had a cell phone, I would have called him by now. He knows the university’s number. He should get in touch with me.”

  “Trust me.” Jack turned his head so that he was looking at Claire. “After he and I went back to that strip club, I’m sure Frank has other things on his mind than keeping up with your grades. He'll be in touch.”

  Claire closed her eyes. “You’re polluting my friend.”

  Jack laughed loudly, drawing the attention of the passing students. “Polluting that creature? Please. Once I got him in there, it was like a fish to water.”

  Silence fell on the unit again.

  Claire found herself thinking about Frank. He’s fine, she thought. She knew it was true. Still, she missed her friend. She’d liked him being up here. He felt like home.

  “You know, outside of Byron’s bullshit,” Jack mused. “I’m enjoying this place. This is the life. Learning stuff. Cool stuff. Not shit like calculus or World War II. I’d like to stay here forever.”

  Marissa shook her head. “Are you forgetting that we almost died last semester, Jack?”

  He waved his hand in the air as if tossing the question away. “That was last semester. This one is going to be easy sailing. The hardest part will be keeping these fawning women off of me so that I can get good grades, but other than that, it’s gonna be a cakewalk.”

  “You really think so?” Claire asked. Something tugged at her mind.

  “Yeah. The cult activity in Boston is done.” He tossed the ball in the air, letting it come back down before he spoke. “What’s there to worry about? We haven’t even heard from Remington and Lance in months. This is smooth sailing, my dears.”

  Claire felt the warm sun bathing her face and tried to take joy in it.

  Yet, something cold was in her chest. Something that said Jack might be a bit too optimistic.

  Maybe this is the calm before the storm, she thought.

  Chapter Two

  Frank looked down at his feet. They didn’t even touch the stool’s footrest. He shook his head and looked back up at the bartender. “You guys need a shorter bar.”

  The bartender shrugged. “Maybe you just need to grow a bit, Frank.”

  Frank shook his head before taking the beer in front of him and tilting it to his mouth. He paused right before he took his sip. “Your mom likes me short, Joey.”

  “My mom?” Joey laughed. “She likes anything with a pulse.”

  Frank almost spit his beer out, placing the glass down and then laughing. “Well played, lad. Well played.”

  “You’re not the only one around these parts with jokes.” Joey turned to look at a new patron that had just walked up to the little hut. “Now, excuse me while I pay attention to the people who tip well.”

  “I tip for good service, not good jokes.” Frank turned around on the stool and stared out at the beach. The tiki hut was a little ways from the ocean, and the sun was going down over the horizon.

  A few days had passed since Frank saw the shirt and pants minus any visible person wearing them. He’d walked up and down the beach multiple times, searching for the bastard. He was actually beginning to wonder if he’d drank too much under the sun and imagined the whole thing.

  He shook his head as he stared at the crashing waves. Impossible. Leprechauns can’t drink too much.

  But if Frank wasn’t drinking too much, then that left only one other option. He’d actually seen the damned ghost. He’d thought about asking Joey but knew that would be pointless. Joey was in his mid-thirties and didn’t have a chance in hell of seeing a Myther.

  It’s not a Myther, Frank thought stubbornly.

  But then what else was it?

  Frank grabbed his beer from the bar and took another sip. Why are ye thinking about this so much? Ye’re on vacation. One ye don’t have to pay for. Enjoy it. Leave the Mythers and the fighting of them to the FBI. Ye drink your beer and enjoy the rays. Plus, ye’ve got the bowling tournament tonight. Stop worrying about things that don’t concern ye.

  Frank thought the words, but he couldn’t put what he’d seen out of his head.

  He hated vampires, but ghosts? Poltergeists, to be exact. If that’s what this was, Frank didn’t know a damned thing about them. He hadn’t even believed they existed, truth be told.

  He turned around on his stool. “Hey, Joey.” He waited for the bartender to look at him. “Do ye believe in ghosts?”

  Joey raised an eyebrow. “You’re an odd little man, ye know that?”

  “Yes, yes. Just answer the question.” Frank put both arms on the bar and leaned forward, ignoring Joey’s mockery of his accent.

  Joey shrugged. “Probably, but who knows?” He turned back around and started attending to the half-made drinks in front of him.

  Something caught Frank’s eye to the left—an errant movement that his brain said shouldn’t be there. He turned his head slightly, instinctually not wanting to startle it. His eyes widened as he watched something that…

  Not possible, he thought.

  Yet, there it was, right in front of him.

  A half-eaten hamburger rose from the plate and was lifted to a non-existent mouth.

  Frank watched in disbelief as a large bite disappeared into thin air. The remaining hamburger floated in the air.

  Frank took in the rest of the scene as he slowly turned on the stool. It was the same apparition—unless other invisible creatures wore linen pants and shirts. He watched as the last bite of hamburger moved a short distance through the air and then disappeared.

  A second passed, and then a fry followed the hamburger’s path, half of it disappearing a moment later.

  Frank didn’t turn away from the apparition. He wanted to test something. “Hey, Joey. Come here for a second.”

  Joey grinned. “Damn it, Frank. You ever quit bothering me? I’ve got other things to do besides listening to you make lame jokes.”

  Frank pointed with his free hand to the end of the bar, where another fry was rising into the air. “You see anything there?”

  Joey leaned over, peering in the direction Frank w
as pointing. “See anything where?”

  Frank stretched his arm a bit farther out. “Right there.”

  Joey looked for a second longer, then shook his head. He pulled back behind the bar and stared at the odd-looking man. “Frank, I’m going to be honest with you. You drink a lot. Like, a lot a lot. There ain’t nothing down there at the end of that bar, and you’re starting to worry me some. How long you plan on staying in Miami?”

  Frank continued gazing at the shirt and pants, hardly hearing Joey. Another fry rose up off the plate, then paused. A second passed, and then the fry waved in the air. Waved at Frank.

  Oh, what the fuck? Frank thought. Is it mocking me?

  “You hearing anything I’m saying?” Joey asked. “Anything at all?”

  Frank wanted to march down there and scatter the plate and remaining fries to the floor, but he knew that would only cause a scene.

  He turned back around to Joey and shrugged. “No, sorry. I was watching a damned cockroach crawl across your floor. Thing was as big as my big toe and twice as gross. You going to sit back there and act like you didn’t see it?”

  Joey rolled his eyes. “I’m worried about you, Frank. Might want to slow down on the booze a bit. It’s not good for you, ya know?”

  Frank lifted his beer and looked at the amber-colored liquid. It was half empty. “Why don’t you go ahead and get me another one, Joey? I got a feeling that it’s going to be a long night.”

  This ghost’s a damned bastard, Frank thought. Though it seemed to like decent beer, and Frank could appreciate that trait.

  Frank had decided to skip the bowling tournament. He wanted to watch this creature a bit more so he’d hung out at the bar, drinking his beer and waiting.

  The creature moved around the little tiki hut with precision. It clearly wanted to eat and drink but was careful not to approach a person still eating. It mostly waited until they’d left. A few times, it had grabbed onion rings and fries off a plate yet to be delivered to the table.

  “Lazy arse,” Frank had muttered, his mouth hovering just above the rim of his glass. “Doesn’t want to work for a living.”