Classroom Demons

by Unknown

  ‘You gave me the kick I needed,’ said House eventually. ‘You were right, I was giving up.’

  ‘But the way I said it,’ muttered Alex. ‘That wasn’t right. I’m sorry.’

  For a moment, House continued to stare impassively back. Then his face slowly cracked into a grin.

  ‘Next time we’re running away from a demon, you can go in front!’

  Alex was just about to agree when, to his horror, the front door opened. Framed in the doorway stood Tabbris, military‐neat in matching tartan dressing gown and slippers.

  ‘What time do you call this?’

  Something was bothering Alex. He tried to work out what it was during the long lecture on obedience and proper behaviour that Tabbris gave them, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. In fact, it wasn’t until the whole gang were in their beds, Tabbris’s telling‐off still ringing in their ears, that he realized what it was: back in the cellar, Dante had said that he knew someone was there.

  How? Dante hadn’t seen any of them, and he had said it before House’s clumsiness had given the gang away. So how could he possibly have known that someone was in the cellar? The team hadn’t told anyone what they were planning. It had been a secret shared only among themselves. And it was too much of a coincidence that Dante just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

  The answer hit him like a runaway truck. If only the gang knew the plan, then someone from the gang must have told Dante.

  Alex felt sick. It was a terrifying thought. Someone had given them away. But who? They were a team – The Wingers. They’d played and studied together for years: the best gang of friends ever to attend Cloud Nine Academy. It just wasn’t possible. Big House certainly wouldn’t do anything like that; he was too loyal, too much into being a Guardian Angel. Inchy? No, that was idiotic as well. Inchy had a thirst for knowledge, but that didn’t mean he’d turn to the Other Side to learn things – he was too sensible for that. And as for Cherry… That thought almost made Alex chuckle. A Cherub in cahoots with a demon? Not a chance!

  No, there was only one person it could be. He didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only answer left. It had to be the person who was always disagreeing with Alex’s brilliant plans. The person who’d been so keen to go and research demons, even though he normally hated doing any extra work. The person who’d played so badly in their first footie match that it must have been on purpose. The person who’d actually said that life was better for people like Dante.

  Alex closed his eyes. That person was a traitor.

  ‘Spit,’ he murmured as he finally slipped into a fitful sleep. ‘It has to be Spit…’

  13

  Turning the Tables

  Alex reached out and tapped Spit on the shoulder. It was early morning and the gang were in a maths lesson. The teacher was absorbed in an elaborate equation scrawled on the board at the front of the classroom. Most of the pupils behind her were having a job staying awake.

  Alex tapped again, this time harder.

  Spit turned, mouthing a silent ‘What?’

  Alex didn’t say a word. Instead, he quickly handed over a small piece of paper.

  Spit opened the note, which just said Cloakroom. Breaktime. V. important.

  Nodding at Alex, he screwed it up and shoved it into his pocket.

  Alex grimaced. He hoped he was wrong, but he’d soon know. This plan was foolproof.

  ‘What’s this about, then?’ asked Spit. ‘No, let me guess; you’ve discovered that Dante’s not a demon at all. He’s actually Satan himself and he’s here to take over the world and turn it into an enormous pit of fire. Close?’

  Spit and Alex were standing alone in a dark corner of the cloakroom where no one would be able to overhear their conversation. Only the usual rattle of the heating pipes above their heads broke the silence.

  ‘Close? Not even warm. But it does involve Dante.’

  ‘Then I’m not interested,’ said Spit. ‘And I’m not interested because whatever you’re about to suggest is going to end up getting us into even more trouble.’

  ‘It won’t, trust me,’ said Alex.

  ‘Every time you say “trust me” things go bad.’

  ‘Not this time.’

  ‘Every time.’

  Spit turned to go, but before he’d taken more than a couple of steps, Alex muttered a few words under his breath.

  ‘What did you say?’ asked Spit, turning back.

  ‘I said, “Are you chicken?”’

  ‘It’s not about being chicken; it’s about not getting into trouble.’

  Alex sneered.

  ‘So you are chicken, then? Nothing more than a scaredy‐cat. Some angel you’ll be; nervous of doing anything that might be a little risky.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with being an angel.’

  ‘It’s got everything to do with it,’ said Alex. ‘Tabbris has told us that he’s always reporting back to Gabriel. What do you reckon he’ll think if he finds out that you backed off at the first sign of trouble? Before you know it, you’ll be held back a year. Gabriel will have you retaking exams for eternity!’

  ‘He couldn’t do that,’ said Spit. ‘It’s not…’

  His voice trailed off.

  ‘You really want to take that risk?’

  Spit paused.

  ‘OK. What have you got to say?’

  Alex took a deep breath – it was now or never. Time to test Spit’s loyalty.

  ‘I’m meeting the others at lunchtime,’ said Alex. ‘I’ve got this awesome idea for a secret weapon to use against Dante. We’re meeting at lunch to make it.’

  ‘What, the whole gang?’

  ‘Yup.’ Alex looked Spit directly in the eyes. ‘You in?’

  Spit looked torn for a moment, chewing his bottom lip.

  ‘OK, I’m in.’

  ‘Excellent!’ said Alex. ‘We’re meeting in the old games shed at one o’clock on the dot. We’ll sort everything out then, OK? And remember – this is Top Secret. If Dante gets a whiff of it, we’re in big trouble.’

  The bell rang, bringing breaktime to an end.

  ‘Are you sure it won’t get us into trouble anyway?’ asked Spit.

  ‘As I said,’ smiled Alex, his blue eyes gleaming, ‘trust me!’

  ‘That’s what I’m worried about.’

  At the end of the next lesson, Alex didn’t go to lunch. Nor did he tell the others about the meeting with Spit. Instead, he jogged round to the playing fields and hid himself in a bush, his eyes totally focused on the old games shed where Spit should soon be arriving. Now all he had to do was hang around to see who actually turned up. If it was Spit, then Alex’s team‐mate was in the clear. But if it was someone else – Alex grimaced at the thought – then Spit was the traitor.

  At one o’clock precisely, Alex saw a shadow stretch out across the ground in front of the bush as someone approached the old games shed. His heart sank. It was a shadow he recognized, but the figure that cast it wasn’t Spit, but someone tall, thin, spindly and angular…

  Mr Dante crept across the grass and right up to the door of the shed. Then he flung the door open and stalked inside.

  ‘All right, Cloud, what are you up to in here?’

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Alex had to bite his knuckle to stop himself giggling as he listened to Dante rummaging around in the empty shed, muttering curses. Eventually, the geography teacher emerged, dusty and furious, and stormed off in the direction of the school.

  As Dante disappeared, though, so did Alex’s excitement. His plan had worked like magic, but success felt about as hollow as the growing emptiness in his stomach. Confirming his suspicions about Spit had been simple enough. Now came the hard part – working out how to tell the others.

  ‘So,’ said House, finally seeming to understand what Alex had spent the last ten minutes trying to explain, ‘you told Spit to meet us in the shed…’

  Alex nodded.

  ‘… and instead of going t
o the meeting, you just watched from a bush to see if someone other than Spit would turn up.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Alex. ‘And someone else did turn up – Dante. But he couldn’t possibly have known about the meeting. Just like he couldn’t have known we were in the cellar last night. Unless Spit told him.’

  There was a pause. The gang listened to the sound of running water from the bathroom next door where Spit was having a shower.

  House frowned.

  ‘Did you ask him why he wasn’t there at one o’clock?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Alex. ‘He claims Dante gave him a lunchtime detention for running in the corridors. But I don’t believe it.’

  Inchy didn’t look convinced. ‘I just can’t believe Spit’s a traitor.’

  ‘Yeah, why would he turn against us?’ asked Cherry. ‘Maybe Dante goes to the games shed every day, you know, as part of his job or something.’

  ‘Bit of a coincidence that he turns up at just the time I’d told Spit to meet me there, don’t you think?’ said Alex.

  ‘But Spit’s one of us,’ said Inchy. ‘I know he’s sarcastic, but he’s no way a Hell’s Angel!’

  ‘Perhaps he wants to be,’ suggested Cherry.

  ‘No one wants to be a Hell’s Angel,’ said House.

  ‘Well,’ sighed Alex, ‘one thing’s for sure: the only people who knew about the meeting in the old games shed were me and Spit. Seeing as Dante turned up to find us, I’m guessing Spit told him it was happening; it’s the only answer.’ He paused. ‘We just have to accept it – Spit’s a traitor.’

  ‘So now what do we do?’ asked Cherry. ‘We’re a man down! It’s not looking good, is it?’

  ‘And if Spit is a traitor,’ said Inchy, ‘then there’s a good chance Dante knows exactly what we’re up to, what we’ve been doing and what we’ve found out.’

  ‘We’ve got no choice,’ said Alex. ‘We have to act now, or everything we’ve found out has been for nothing.’

  Alex’s face turned very serious as he looked at his friends.

  ‘We need to get the egg out of the cellar before Dante moves it.’

  Alex held up a hand to forestall Inchy’s objections. ‘We can figure out what we’re going to do with it later. Maybe we can use it to blackmail Dante or something. But tonight we go to the cellar and steal the egg. Without Spit.’

  Alex lay staring into the darkness, waiting for the signal. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands – he had to stay awake. That was vital. Then, just as he felt himself drifting off, something soft and smelly thumped into his face. A second later, Inchy appeared at his side.

  ‘Spit’s asleep.’

  ‘And you needed to throw a sock at me to tell me that?’

  ‘It was all I had to hand,’ whispered Inchy. ‘But he’s definitely asleep; his breathing’s changed and he’s not moving at all.’

  ‘You absolutely sure?’ asked Alex.

  Inchy nodded.

  ‘Then let’s go,’ said Alex.

  ‘Are you certain this is a good idea? Tabbris really flipped out last time he caught us up after eight o’clock. We’re supposed to be grounded. If he catches us again…’

  ‘We’ve been through this,’ growled Alex. ‘There’s no other choice. Now let’s get going.’

  Inchy slunk back off into the dark.

  ‘House?’ hissed Alex.

  ‘Ready,’ whispered House, and a shadow dropped silently from the top bunk to land in front of Alex.

  ‘That was impressive. You didn’t knock anything over.’

  ‘Practice makes perfect.’

  As the gang tiptoed past Spit’s bed, they made extra sure that they didn’t make a sound. With a last look at Spit, his snoring body shrouded in a heavy duvet, Alex slipped out into the corridor and closed the door softly behind him.

  In the darkness of the bedroom, Spit’s eyes opened.

  14

  Demon’s Lair

  ‘Is it me, or is it even hotter than last night?’

  Inchy was standing behind Alex and Big House, a torch in his shaking hands. Cherry was next to him, an arrow strung in her bow. It was dark and warm, like the inside of a sleeping bag, and ahead of them in the silent shadows lay the door to the cellar.

  It had been surprisingly simple to get away from the house. Tabbris had been fast asleep in front of the fire, his medals spread out on his lap, when the gang snuck past. Now they just had to worry about getting back in. Assuming they came back at all.

  ‘Think that’ll be useful?’ asked House, nodding at Cherry’s bow.

  ‘No idea,’ shrugged Cherry nervously. ‘I’ve never tried firing Cherub arrows at demons before.’

  She tried to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat and turned into a stifled squeak.

  ‘I’m not sure about this,’ muttered Inchy. ‘Doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘Did you ask those Justice Scales of yours, Inch?’

  Inchy nodded at Cherry.

  ‘Yeah, and they just sort of… hung in the balance.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Simple,’ said Inchy. ‘Either this could all go very, very well, we win and end up as heroes…’

  Inchy’s voice trailed off.

  ‘Or?’ prompted Cherry.

  ‘Or everything goes very, very badly, we lose and end up being smashed into tiny pieces by the hugely powerful and very evil Mr Dante.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ said Alex. ‘So long as we stick together.’

  Behind his back, Inchy and Cherry exchanged glances. They were both thinking the same thing. It was too late for sticking together – the team was already broken. Spit had been left behind.

  Alex reached out, turned the handle of the cellar door and pushed.

  ‘After you.’

  House grimaced.

  ‘Do you really want me to go first? After what happened last time?’

  ‘Good point. Well, after me, I suppose.’

  Alex took a tentative step on to the stairs.

  ‘I can’t see a thing,’ whispered Cherry.

  ‘Well, don’t trip up and fall into me,’ came Inchy’s nervous voice from the blackness.

  ‘I’m not House.’

  ‘In this darkness, everyone’s House.’

  ‘I think we’re at the bottom of the steps,’ said Alex quietly.

  ‘Let’s rock ’n’ roll, ladies and gents,’ said House, cracking his knuckles.

  Inchy looked at House, shaking his head.

  ‘Do they teach you these terrible lines when you become a Guardian Angel, or do you just make them up yourself?’

  Before House could reply, Cherry muttered, ‘Something’s not right. It feels different tonight. It’s like something’s missing.’

  ‘Spit?’

  Cherry shook her head.

  ‘No, that’s not it, although it does feel weird to be doing this without him.’

  House spoke up. ‘It’s getting hotter and hotter, so let’s just grab the egg and get out.’

  ‘That’s it!’ exclaimed Cherry.

  ‘What’s it?’

  ‘It’s hotter!’

  ‘What’s that got to do with it?’ asked Alex. ‘We’re wasting valuable time.’

  ‘It’s even hotter than last night, but the pipes aren’t rattling!’

  House, Alex and Inchy listened; the deafening silence rang in their ears.

  ‘She’s right,’ said Inchy. ‘Why do you think that is?’

  Alex shrugged.

  ‘The pipes only rattle when the heating is on. So it must’ve been turned off.’

  ‘Then why is it even hotter than before?’ asked Cherry.

  ‘How should I know?’ said Alex. ‘Do I look like a plumber? All I want to do is to grab the egg and get out of here. The longer we stand around discussing the ins and outs of the school heating system, the more chance we’ve got of being discovered.’

  ‘I’m just saying –’

  ‘It doesn�
��t matter what you’re just saying. Let’s finish what we came here to do, OK?’

  ‘Fine,’ huffed Cherry. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  The gang crept on through the eerie silence, towards the red glow that marked the room where the furnace lay. After what seemed like hours, they arrived. Peering through the doorway, the angels could see no sign of Dante. But the furnace was hotter than ever, almost white hot, and the demon egg was still sitting on top of it.

  ‘Right,’ said Alex, his tone hushed. ‘Here goes.’ He handed House a small rucksack. ‘Be careful.’

  House looked confused.

  ‘Why’ve you given me this?’

  ‘To collect the egg,’ replied Alex.

  ‘You have to be joking,’ said House, backing off. ‘You’re asking the clumsiest person here to go and collect a very important and dangerous egg? Are you nuts? And you know I’m even worse when I’m nervous!’

  ‘He’s got a point,’ said Inchy, then turned to House. ‘No offence.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ said Cherry, stepping forward and grabbing the bag. ‘Then we leave, OK?’

  ‘Fine by me,’ replied Alex.

  Alex, Inchy and House stared in silence as Cherry scampered forward, using her arm to shield her face from the intense heat of the furnace. Without pausing, she scooped up the glowing green egg, slipped it into the rucksack and dashed back to the gang.

  ‘Sorted,’ she said proudly.

  Then it happened.

  With a sound like rats scuttling inside a hollow wall, a creeping wave of shadow flowed out from behind the numerous pipes that led from the furnace, buffeting the gang with a wave of intense dry heat. It spread like ink on wet paper, surrounding them, even obscuring the glow of the furnace and pulling the air from their lungs in gasps. The shadow oozed closer until, within its darkness, tiny eyes appeared. Eyes set deep into horrible, pointy faces laced with sneers and snarls.

  Closer still it came, and soon the gang saw that the vile faces, with their eyes beady and yellow, were connected to spindly little bodies – no more than skin stretched over bent twisted skeletons. The heat generated by these tiny bodies grew stronger as the creatures drew ever closer to the young angels. The air crackled with a mix of rattling laughter and sharp cackles, punctuated by the sound of small feet scratching on the stone floor.