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Eternal Detention

Page 2

by Jamie Thomson


  He paused for a moment, to glare menacingly at the assembled children.

  ‘And now, on to Rule Three,’ said Hasdruban. ‘Informing! All pupils are expected to tell on their fellows, “to dob them in”, as you call it. Any wrongdoing, any indiscretion, no matter how minor, must be reported to me! Especially with regard to EVIL! Do you understand me? EVIL must be hunted down and rooted out! EVIL must be destroyed!’

  Hasdruban raised his cane and pointed it at the assembled children.

  ‘You know who you are, Evil ones!’ he began to shout. ‘You know, and I know, and you WILL face the wrath of holy justice!’

  Spittle flew from his mouth, causing the kids in the front row to shuffle backwards, setting off a ripple of motion away from the headmaster. Hasdruban paused in his rant and wiped his mouth with a white handkerchief.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said, more calmly now. ‘To summarise, I am your new headmaster, Dr Hasdruban. I give you Three Rules – Obedience, Discipline and Snitching. Simple enough, eh?’

  ‘Yes, Dr Hasdruban,’ said the children meekly.

  ‘Good!’ said the headmaster. ‘You are dismissed! Off to the dungeons…err…off to class with the lot of you!’

  Silently, the astonished children began to file out of the assembly hall, most of them plainly terrified.

  Dirk exchanged looks with Sooz and Chris as they shuffled out along with them.

  ‘I’m guessing you’re the Evil he’s on about,’ whispered Chris.

  ‘Do you think?’ said Dirk. ‘Not just me, though,’ he added, ‘you two as well.’

  ‘I wonder how that will affect our school reports – Sorry about being named as an Evil One, Mum!’ said Chris.

  ‘Hah – Don’t worry, Mum, it sounds worse than it is…honest!’ whispered Sooz, grinning.

  Trying not to giggle out loud, the three ‘evil ones’ left the hall.

  Dirk looked up at the clock on the wall. Detention would be over soon. He leaned down and itched his ankle where the tag chafed against his leg and went back to examining the blueprint he was working on – he’d convinced the ‘Overseer of Slaves’, Grotty Grout (History teacher, bit of a historical relic himself, like a master from a 1950s public school) that it was extra electronics homework. In fact, it was something far more interesting than petty human study.

  He looked over at his other companion in detention, Phil Miller, the school bully – he wouldn’t even look at Dirk. Tried to keep away from him as much as he could, in fact, after several run-ins with Dirk had left him humiliated. Dirk grinned an evil little grin at the memory. Then the bell rang.

  ‘That’s it, I hope you’ve learned your lesson, boys,’ said Mr Grout.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ muttered Phil Miller, as he hurried out the door, trying to get away from Dirk as quickly as possible. Dirk grinned again. Mr Grout flinched at the sight of it – Dirk’s sinister smile had that effect on people.

  ‘Errr…I don’t suppose you’ve learned your lesson, Dirk?’ said Mr Grout, stepping towards the door as if he too wanted to make a quick escape.

  ‘Of course not, Grout. Now, get out of my way, I have things to do,’ said Dirk commandingly.

  Mr Grout looked angry and outraged for a moment and considered giving him another detention – it should be Mr Grout, for a start, before you even got to the astonishing insolence of the rest. But then…it was Dirk Lloyd, the most difficult, bright, brilliant, sinister, cunning, uncontrollable kid with an answer for everything he had ever had the misfortune to teach. His shoulders slumped. ‘Yes, Dirk, off you go,’ he said resignedly.

  In any case, thought Dirk to himself, as he waited for old Grout to shuffle out of the way, the lesson was one he had learned a long, long time ago – those with power will inevitably abuse it. After all, he should know. This detention, for instance – it was completely unjust. And not just because he was above all petty rules and should never be subjected to punishment or control, for he was a mighty Dark Lord, but because it actually was unjust, for once. He hadn’t done anything wrong (not for want of trying, mind).

  No, it wasn’t him, it was the headmaster. He’d initiated a campaign of harassment against Dirk. At least it wasn’t ‘death, dismemberment and decapitation, burning, beating and blistering’, thought Dirk with a knowing smile, but still the White Wizard had been putting him in detention every day for a week now. He’d stuck him with extra homework, and special counselling, and extra sport, and remedial classes and whatever else he could throw at Dirk. Worse, the counselling was going to be with those witless fools, Wings and Randle! It was a campaign of spoiling distraction, designed to keep him tied up, so he didn’t have time to come up with a strategy or one of his famously complex evil schemes. Maybe it was also designed to break him, to load him with unending tedium. But it wouldn’t work, oh no, thought Dirk to himself, he’d survive it, and find a way to strike back!

  Dirk stepped out of the detention room – and stopped suddenly, for there was his nemesis in the flesh, standing at the end of the corridor! Dr Hasdruban. Next to him stood the deputy head. The White Witch of Holy Vengeance.

  They just stood there, staring at him. Dirk folded his arms, raised his head a little, and stared back at them defiantly. The White Witch’s tongue flicked from her mouth, like a serpent tasting the air. Dirk grinned his evil grin. The Witch and the Wizard exchanged a look. Hasdruban raised his cane menacingly. Dirk frowned.

  But then Mr Grout shuffled out from the detention room. Hasdruban and the Witch turned away, as if they’d just been passing by – wouldn’t do for the headmaster to be seen annihilating a pupil with some kind of magical thunderbolt on school grounds, now would it, thought Dirk, chuckling.

  Mr Grout shuffled on towards the school exit. Dirk decided it would be prudent to follow him, sticking close to Grout, in case the headmaster and his deputy came back. Having Dirk behind him made Grout a little nervous, of course, so he started glancing back at him from time to time. He could see Dirk doing much the same, though Dirk was checking to see if the Witch and the Wizard were following him too. But to Mr Grout, it seemed like Dirk was checking to see if the coast was clear, probably because he was going to pull some kind of nefarious stunt on Grout, like sticking an ‘I’m an idiot’ poster on his back, or pinning a long monkey tail to the bottom of his jacket. So Grout began to shuffle forward a little faster. Dirk, wanting to stay close to Grout so that Dr Hasdruban couldn’t catch him alone, speeded up too. So did Grout once more, until by the end both of them ended up running out of the school gates as if they were being chased by the devil himself!

  Which is what each in their own way actually thought was happening.

  Waiting outside the gates were Sooz (dressed in black, of course, with silver jewellery everywhere, wearing chunky Goth boots), and Christopher, still in his school uniform. Both of them stood there staring in amazement at the sight of what looked like Grotty Grout being chased out of the school by Dirk.

  Both Dirk and Grout pulled themselves up when they saw Sooz and Chris staring at them in astonishment. Grout and Dirk coughed selfconsciously, trying to look normal, as if nothing untoward or strange was going on. Grout took off his jacket, to check the back. Relieved to find nothing wrong, and seeing Dirk strolling over to Sooz and Chris, he hurried away, leaving the three children to their own devices.

  ‘What was that all about?’ said Sooz, nodding at the retreating Grout.

  ‘Grout? Oh…errr…nothing, nothing,’ said Dirk, glossing over it. He didn’t really want to explain that he’d been using Grout as cover to keep himself safe from Hasdruban. All a bit embarrassing, really, for a Dark Lord.

  ‘Nothing? It looked like you were chasing Grotty out of there like a bat out of hell!’ said Chris. ‘Hilarious!’

  ‘Indeed, perhaps I was in pursuit of the ailing Grout,’ said Dirk, warming to the idea. After all, it sounded a lot better than hiding behind his coattails.

  ‘Really? Why didn’t he just put you in detention?’ said Sooz.

&nbs
p; ‘Umm…enough of this, on to more important matters,’ said Dirk in his best Dark Lord voice, changing the subject, ‘So, how are things in the Forest of Demons?’

  When Dirk, Sooz and Christopher had come back to earth, they’d brought with them Rufino, a human Paladin who wore medieval-style armour and carried a sword, and Gargon, a seven foot tall winged demon-like beast, the Dread Lieutenant of the Dark Lord. They were hiding out in the depths of a nearby forest, a forest Dirk had nicknamed ‘The Forest of Demons’, after Gargon, though its actual name was Willowdown Wood.

  ‘Good, though Rufino is getting restless,’ said Chris.

  ‘I guess we’ll have to find something for Rufino to do or he’ll wander off. What about Gargon?’ asked Dirk.

  ‘He’s fine,’ said Sooz. ‘In fact, sitting around doing nothing but hiding seems to suit him. He’s been doing a lot of sleeping and lolling about.’

  ‘Bah, he was always a lazy Dread Lieutenant,’ said Dirk.

  ‘When can you get out there to see them, then? We need to come up with a plan, find what we can do with them before they get discovered,’ said Chris.

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Dirk, ‘but I have to deal with this tag first. Neutralise it, so I can go somewhere else other than just home and school.’

  ‘Yeah, but how?’ said Chris.

  ‘Let’s go to my room, and I’ll show you,’ said Dirk.

  As they talked, they ambled round the back of the school, and made their way down Green Lane, passing the allotments. It was a greyish November day, not too cold yet, but still and quiet with a musty dampness in the air. No one was around – or so they thought. A white van came out of nowhere, screaming around the corner towards them. On its sides, the words ‘Purify the World’ had been painted in blue. It came to a screeching halt and out of the passenger side leaped a figure – Dr Hasdruban!

  The three kids pulled up in surprise as Dr Hasdruban stepped towards them, his cane raised high, his other hand curled up in a strange, arcane gesture, his face a maniacal mask of madness!

  ‘Die, Dark Lord, die!’ he shrieked, spittle flying from his mouth and dribbling down his long white beard, ‘And you too, evil Moon Queen, and your traitorous lackey, the worthless Christopher!’ With that, he pointed his cane at them, as if it were a gun.

  Reflexively, Dirk raised up his ring hand, the one with the Great Ring, although its powers were as nothing here on earth, and stepped promptly to the side to take cover.

  Behind Sooz…

  ‘Afflictus Annihilatus,’ screamed Dr Hasdruban as he shook his cane at them.

  Sooz recoiled, Dirk gritted his teeth, ducking down a bit more, whilst Christopher – Christopher glared at Dirk and stepped in front of Sooz, shielding her.

  And then – nothing happened. Hasdruban looked at the cane, puzzled. He shook it once more.

  ‘Die, you hell-spawned creatures of evil, die!’ reprised Hasdruban, but still nothing. No blasts of blue lightning or holy fires. Nothing. Then the driver’s side of the van opened, and out stepped the White Witch. Dr Hasdruban stared at her blankly in confusion. She dashed over and handed him a note. He began to read it.

  Dirk smiled, straightening up and stepping out from cover.

  ‘What do you mean it doesn’t work? Why not?’ said Hasdruban to the White Witch.

  ‘You old fool,’ muttered Dirk as he pointed down the road, leading the others on. They began to sneak away, warily skirting the van.

  ‘Really? Only a few minor magics? Are you sure?’ said Hasdruban. The White Witch nodded vigorously, furiously scribbling another note.

  ‘Might actually be a human boy? No, I don’t believe it, he is the Dark Lord, I tell you!’ thundered Hasdruban.

  Slowly, the three kept on going, unnoticed for now.

  ‘What are you saying? Of course he deserves to die!’ said Hasdruban faintly, as his voice began to fade. Soon, they’d left the headmaster and the Witch behind.

  When they were safely out of earshot, Dirk laughed and said, ‘Hah! That witless old Wizard, I would have thought he’d have worked out his magic wasn’t going to work here by now!’

  Sooz rounded on him. ‘Dirk, you used me! You hid behind me! How could you?’ she shouted, almost in tears.

  Dirk blinked. Chris folded his arms and stared at him, challenging him with his eyes.

  ‘Umm… Errr… No!’ Dirk blustered as realisation dawned. ‘I…I knew his magic wasn’t going to work, of course I did, it was perfectly safe – powerful stuff like that just doesn’t work on earth!’

  ‘Really – why’d you hide behind me then, if you knew it was safe?’ said Sooz, wiping a little tear from her cheek.

  ‘Ummm… I was hiding something! Keeping it from Hasdruban,’ said Dirk.

  ‘Hah, you expect me to believe that!’ said Sooz even more angrily. ‘Show me then, what was it?’

  ‘What? I…it wasn’t an it, it was a…it was a spell, I was readying a counter-spell, had to keep it hidden and that,’ said Dirk, clearly flustered for once.

  ‘Oh, really!’ shouted Sooz. ‘You just said powerful magic stuff like that doesn’t work here, not two seconds ago!’

  In the background, up the road a way, two other figures, Hasdruban and the White Witch were engaged in a seemingly similar discussion, waving arms and gesticulating at each other.

  Dirk blustered some more, putting on his best Dark Lord voice. ‘How dare you question me, puny human girl-child! Don’t you know who I am? I don’t have to answer to you!’

  ‘Don’t try to intimidate me with that, Dirk Lloyd! I’m not just some schoolgirl any more, you know, I’ve seen off far worse than that!’ said Sooz, stamping her foot.

  ‘What about me?’ interrupted Christopher who was getting increasingly irritated with the way things were going.

  ‘What do you mean, what about you?’ said Sooz and Dirk together.

  ‘Well, you know, I stepped up, didn’t I, I stood in front of Sooz, shielding her, not hiding behind her,’ said Christopher, gesturing towards Dirk. Then he pointed at his own chest, ‘Like a hero – a proper hero!’ he added loudly.

  ‘Oh yes, you did, that was sweet of you,’ said Sooz, stroking his scarred cheek with her hand for a brief second before turning back to Dirk.

  ‘See! Why can’t you be more like Christopher?’ said Sooz, jabbing her finger at Dirk’s forehead.

  ‘Oh, I get it, you want me to be the worthless lackey, so you can take over again!’ countered Dirk.

  Christopher sighed, as they continued in this vein. The worthless lackey, that’s what Hasdruban thought of him, and so did Sooz and Dirk. He might as well not be there. He turned and walked away, leaving Dirk and Sooz arguing in the street. They didn’t even notice as his slight form dwindled away in the distance.

  November 19th, 2013 Rip-out-their-hearts 19th

  Sooz is rather angry with me. I shouldn’t have hidden behind her, I know, but old habits die hard. I mean, what are minions for, after all? Anyway, I felt a little…what’s that word that you humans suffer from all the time? Makes you weak and pathetic and blubbersome and all the rest… Ah yes…‘guilt’. I actually felt a little guilty. Anyway, I bought her a box of ‘Dark Magic’ chocolates, which I thought were kind of appropriate. She laughed at that, but still, I don’t think she has truly forgiven me.

  November 19th, 2013 Rip-out-their-hearts 19th

  I found this in the paper… Got to do something before it gets out of hand! What if they actually captured Gargon? What would they make of him? Put him in a zoo?

  Picture this. A young boy’s room. The usual things – bed, a table covered with stuff, chair, large cupboard, shelves with books, Xbox in the corner. All completely normal. Or is it? The bedspread is black with white skulls. The curtains are black – with white skulls. The books aren’t your normal kids’ books – they’re encyclopaedias, books on engineering, advanced electronics, medieval torture techniques, battle tactics, empire building and so on. The table and chair look normal but on closer inspe
ction, the wood has been carved with strange glyphs and symbols. Perched upon the table sits a large black crow with red eyes and feathers like glistening black shadows. It caws, a cry that sounds like the mournful wail of a lonely seagull on a desolate, wind-blasted, corpse-littered shore. Two things lie at its feet – one some kind of phone, with little skulls at each corner and bony arms and legs ridging its sides, its opaque, dark surface glowing with a soft shadowy darkness. It is the DarkPhone, built by Dirk using human electronics and necromantic magic so that he could contact Sooz in the Darklands. Beside it is some kind of device that would wrap around a wrist or an ankle, but instead of a strap, it has skeletal claws to grip with, and its central hub is shaped like a small potato-head.

  Three kids – Dirk, Christopher and Sooz – were looking at the little scene on the table. Sooz had what looked like a large guitar slung over her back that was almost as big as her. Dirk was playing with the ring on his finger. Sooz glanced over at the ring, a flicker of envy in her eyes. It was the Great Ring of Power, and she had worn it once, wielded its mighty magics like she was born to them, when she’d been Queen in the Darklands. Here on earth, it was powerless. She still wanted it, though, but Dirk had made it clear he wasn’t giving it back any time soon. Even though he had once gifted it to her…

  Chris fingered the scar on his cheek. ‘Is that… some kind of Darktag or something?’ he said.

  ‘Yup,’ said Dirk. ‘Using my superior intellect and astonishing all-round general greatness, I have replicated your electrical tagging device with a version of my own. Powered by dark magic. Elecdemonic tagging, I call it.’

  ‘Heh, nice,’ said Sooz.

  ‘How does it work?’ asked Chris.

  ‘Watch,’ replied Dirk, and he flicked the little head with a finger. ‘On, tiny head, on!’

  A pair of little eyes flicked open – causing Chris and Sooz to step back. It began to open its mouth as if to yell. But all that came out was a low buzz. Then it shut its mouth. It opened it wide once more as if yelling, but only that mild buzz came out again. It kept doing that until Dirk flicked the head again. The head twitched as if in irritated annoyance before slumping back into sleep.

 

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