School of Deaths

by Christopher Mannino

  “Susan, sit down,” said Mom, her voice trembling.

  “No, it’s okay,” said Suzie. She walked to the door. The man seemed scared, even a little confused. He was probably her father’s age, but was nothing like Dad. His face was chubby, unshaven, and pockmarked, and his blond hair was uncombed. A golden chain with a charm hung from his neck. He raised his scythe and nodded. Joe held the door, ready to slam it, but Suzie stood in the entrance.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “My n-n-n-name is K-k-k-Cronk. C-Cronk Averill.”

  “C-Cronk Averill?” laughed Joe. “Is this guy for real?”

  “I’ve c-c-c-come to t-t-t-take you b-b-b-back.”

  “Take me back where?” asked Suzie.

  “You are a D-d-d-d…”

  “What?”

  “A Death,” said Cronk. Joe reached for Suzie, but before he touched her, Cronk grabbed Suzie’s arm. His speed surprised her. She yelled, but he raised his scythe and lowered it, cutting the air. Suddenly, the house, Joe, Mom, and the entire world vanished. Colors and smells, noises and strange sensations, flowed past Suzie in a blur.

  She opened her eyes. She was standing in a field. Cronk stood in front of her, frowning.

  “What did you do?” she demanded. “Where are we?” She looked up. It was sunny. But there were two suns.

  Chapter Two

  In-Between

  Suzie pinched herself. When she didn’t wake up, she pinched harder. She squinted at the sky again, shielding her eyes.

  One of the stars resembled the real sun. Never mind it was night a moment before, at least the sun was familiar. The other sun was farther to her right, and dim enough to gaze at without squinting too hard, though it was still bright. The massive star was about three times the size of the sun, her sun, and was red. An open field of dead grass stretched around them, littered with pillars of crumbling stone. In the distance, a massive building rose from the plain.

  “Mr. Averill,” she started.

  “C-c-c-call me Cronk.”

  “Cronk,” she said. “Where the hell are we?” She pinched herself again. Her thigh stung from the constant pinches. The air smelled bitter, like smoke and bad fish. The dead grass crumpled beneath her feet, as she started to rock back and forth. A breeze blew across her face, chilling her.

  “I’m s-s-s-sorry, b-but I h-had to bring you.”

  “Where are we?” she repeated. This wasn’t a dream. She didn’t want to believe it, but everything she sensed told her this was real.

  “In-between,” answered Cronk. “Th-th-th-this way.” He started walking toward the strange building.

  “No,” said Suzie, folding her arms across her chest. “You kidnapped me. You bring me home right now.”

  “I c-c-c-can’t,” stammered Cronk.

  “Well you’d b-b-b-better,” she mocked.

  “C-c-c-come with me, he’ll ex-ex-explain.”

  “Who will?” she demanded. “Explain what? Where are we anyway? If you don’t take me back, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

  She broke off as Cronk walked away. Suzie glanced around. Staying wouldn’t do any good. She followed him across the plain.

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. The place was far too quiet. There were no cars, no birds; even the faint hum of insects was missing. The wind blew across the dead grass without making any noise. The only sound was the crunch of their feet and their own anxious breaths. Cronk, she noticed, still seemed nervous. Maybe she was his first kidnapping job. But where were they?

  They came to a large iron door, covered in a strange writing like runes. The silver doorknobs were shaped like skulls. Cronk tapped with his scythe and the door swung open without a sound.

  “Enter, enter,” called a deep voice from within. “I’ve been waiting.”

  Suzie’s knees trembled in fear. Everything sunk in at once. She had been kidnapped, and was alone in some strange otherworld. Her kidnapper dressed like Death, and doorknobs were skulls. Her heart pounded against her chest.

  Her chest. Suzie peered down. Something was different. She turned her back to Cronk and lifted up her shirt. She couldn’t see her ribcage. She looked at her arms next. They were thick, covered with flesh. She wasn’t fat, but certainly wasn’t thin and bony. What was going on?

  “Please come in, Cronk,” called the low voice. “Bring our new arrival.”

  Cronk tapped her on the arm. She fixed her clothes and turned around. Cronk watched her with a worried expression, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. He walked into the corridor. Suzie followed. She glanced behind her as the massive door swung shut.

  The air was warmer. The faint smell of rotten eggs lingered around her, mixed with something else, like the slight smell of strawberries. The floor and walls were marble, like a fancy mausoleum. The corridor was well-lit, yet Suzie couldn’t see any visible sources of light. Cronk walked to the end of the corridor, turning into a small chamber.

  “Come in, come in,” said the voice again. Suzie walked into the room. Strewn papers covered the floor, and hundreds of loose sheets swamped a massive desk. On the floor near the desk a four foot hourglass stood, slowly draining pitch-black sand.

  “Hello, Cronk,” said the voice behind the immense sheets of papers. “Who have you brought me now?”

  “You should m-m-m-meet this one,” said Cronk.

  “Yes, yes, of course, of course.” The low voice sounded friendly, but perhaps that was only Suzie’s wish. She watched the papers rustle. Something moved behind them.

  A man appeared from behind the stack, if he could be called a man. His features were human, yet strangely goat-like. He had two large horns, and walked upright, but hunched over. His fingers were clenched together, like hooves, and his wide eyes were bright yellow and snakelike. His mouth gaped open, showing two massive rabbit-like buck teeth. Suzie suppressed a chuckle at his odd appearance.

  “My gods,” he said. “A girl.”

  Behind the strange man, working in the corner, stood a boy in a cloak. The cloak covered his face, but he turned and she glimpsed bright green eyes.

  “Yes,” said Cronk. “Her c-c-c-contract.” He pulled out a sheet of paper similar to the thousands lying around the room. The goat-like man took the paper and scrutinized it, pouring over every word.

  “This is impossible,” said the man.

  “What’s going on,” Suzie asked.

  “That’s a good question,” goat-man said, “but never mind, you’re here. I suppose we must…” He paused, again staring at her with his wide yellow eyes. He shivered, like a dog shaking after a rain and placed Suzie’s contract on the table.

  “Susan Elizabeth Sarnio,” he read. “Age: thirteen. Home: Damascus, Maryland. Parents, brother, yes, yes. Cronk, a word please.” Cronk shuffled through the messy office and lowered his head. The goat-man whispered something and Cronk nodded, leaving the room. The goat-man turned to Suzie.

  “Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself.” He extended a hand which Suzie shook. “I am Athanasius, the Gate-Keeper.”

  “I’m Suzie,” she said. “Please, I want to go home. What’s going on? Where am I?”

  “You are in the Gatehouse of the In-Between. This is the world between the World of the Living and the World of the Dead. Plamen.” He turned to the green eyed boy in the corner. “Bring my seal.”

  Suzie pinched herself again, but Athanasius kept talking.

  “I’m sure this is hard to believe. I’ve sent Cronk to get someone who may help you understand. Tell me, in your world did you suddenly lose a great deal of weight?”

  “Yes. How did you—”

  “Your soul was fading to the World of the Dead. The flesh follows. I’m afraid if you went home now, you would soon die.”

  “What?”

  Athanasius tapped the piece of paper. The boy handed him a small object and retreated into the corner. When he walked away, he gazed at Suzie again, his eyes flashing green.

  “Thi
s is a contract,” said Athanasius. “If you sign it, you will need to complete at least one full year as a Death. After your contract is fulfilled you may return, and will have no memory of this place.”

  “What do you mean, a Death?”

  “A Death,” he replied, “brings souls that have died from the World of the Living to the World of the Dead. You’ve probably seen pictures of hooded skeletons with scythes.”

  “Yes, at Halloween. They’re not real.”

  “Oh, but they are. The images, like most myths, have a foundation in truth. The Deaths wear robes, which is their uniform. The scythe, which will be explained to you in greater detail later, allows transport. As for the skeletons, well, you yourself witnessed what was happening to you. If a Death stays too long away from the Land of the Dead, they lose their soul and flesh. The bones are always the last to go.”

  “I don’t want to be a skeleton.” She glanced at the corner, but the boy had gone.

  “No, of course not, don’t be silly. Still, you must understand there are no more…” He paused and studied her again. “I suppose I should tell you this now.”

  “What?”

  “Deaths are chosen from the Living, and serve in the Land of the Dead. Everyone serves at least one year, though the vast majority serves until they fade.”

  “Fade?”

  “When a Death has served for about a hundred years, he passes permanently into the Land of Death. In a way, they die. although that term is used differently. To fade is a good thing. You live on in the Land of the Dead. If you are killed as a Death, you cease.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you stop existing, and no one remembers you. You are wiped from memory, from the universe, but I’m off topic. I was trying to tell you something important.”

  “I’m sorry, go on.” It was easiest to listen. Maybe he’d let her go home if she heard him out.

  “Well, there are no new Deaths born. Names are selected, it’s usually an error-free process, never been a problem before now.”

  “Yes, and now?”

  “There are no female Deaths.” Athanasius raised his hoof-like hands in exasperation.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once, once, a million years ago, long before I was born, there was one. A female Death named Lovethar.” He shuddered. “She was a terrible witch, a horrible beast who tried to sell the Deaths to the Dragons.” He paused, and whispered. “Never again.”

  “You want me to be a Death for a year, but I’m—”

  “You’re a girl,” he said. “This has not happened for a million years and was never supposed to happen again.”

  Suzie laughed. “This is absurd,” she said. “You want me to be a Death? Like the Grim Reaper? Kill people and bring them to—”

  “Kill people? Certainly not. Deaths do not kill, only transport. The details will be made clearer in class, of course.”

  “Class?” Suzie laughed again. “What, is there a school for Deaths?”

  “Like any job, you need to be trained. Even if you’re only here for a year, though chances are you’ll be here far longer.”

  “You said if I sign the contract, I only need to be here, be a Death, for one year.” Suzie surveyed the room again, her eyes lingering on Athanasius’s goat face. This was too vivid, too real. The pinches did nothing. Was it possible?

  “True, however you will take a final test at the end of the year. Less than a tenth of Deaths actually pass. Those who do not pass, remain Deaths.”

  “You mean if I fail, I’ll be a Death forever?”

  “Until you fade or are killed, yes,” said Athanasius. “I suppose I should tell you, many believe in another way of returning. Nearly every Death who fails has tried at some point or another. Yet no Death has ever returned to the Living World after failing the test.”

  “What if I want to go back now?”

  “It’s not that simple. Yes, you’re free to return now, but if you do, your soul will continue to fade into the Land of the Dead. You will die within the month.”

  “And my family? My mom and dad? What about my brother or my friends?” Suzie thought of Mom and Dad, of Joe, of Crystal and Monica, even of Nurse Cherwell and Dr. Fox. “I can’t vanish for a year.”

  “They will be worried. This will be difficult for your family if you do go back after a year. The few, and I do stress extremely few, who have returned often find their absence hard to explain, since they have no memory from the year. Yet it has been done.”

  “This is impossible.” Suzie’s mind spun. This had to be a dream, or some sort of trick. Maybe her illness had spread to her mind. Even Dr. Fox hadn’t been certain what was happening.

  “Plamen,” said Athanasius. “Show them in.” The green-eyed boy emerged from the corner and walked to the door behind her, opening it. Cronk came back into the room with something behind him. The beagle barked, leaping at Suzie. She recognized him at once, though it couldn’t be.

  “Bumper?” she asked, astonished.

  “He lives in the Land of the Dead,” said Athanasius. “We can bring more souls to convince you; most find the reality of this position difficult to accept.”

  Bumper appeared young and healthy. The limp in his leg was gone, but something different stared from his eyes. He had a dull, glassy look as if part of him was somewhere else, far away. Still, he was definitely her dog. She’d known him for ten years; they’d grown up together. He licked her face and she petted him.

  This was real. Bumper was real. Somehow, everything here was real. The Deaths, the world, the possibility of going home in a year, the danger she’d be trapped here, the possibility of dying if she went home now. She sat, petting Bumper for what felt like hours.

  The world turned, whatever world it was. The In-Between, with two suns, dead grass, and the smell of eggs and strawberries. The Death with a stutter and the Gate-Keeper who looked like a goat. It was ludicrous, but real. She wanted Mom and Dad, wanted desperately to go home, yet there was only one way home.

  “If I go home now, I will definitely die?” Suzie said.

  “I’m sorry,” said Athanasius. “An old rule, to encourage more Deaths. You can only return when your contract has been fulfilled. I’m afraid there is no other way.”

  “I will sign,” she said. “But I’ll pass your stupid test. I’ll spend one year as a Death, and I will go home.”

  “That’s all we ask,” said Athanasius. He picked up a large quill pen and dipped it in ink, before passing the parchment to her.

  Cronk took Bumper outside again. Suzie didn’t turn to say goodbye. She fought back tears when she took the pen.

  “It will be quite difficult for you,” said Athanasius. “This won’t be easy. You will be the only one in the entire world.”

  “The only girl?” Suzie blinked but a tear still fell.

  “Yes,” said Athanasius. “They will mock and scorn you. Many will say you will not complete the year. I fear for you, Susan.”

  “I was sick. I understand what it’s like to be different, and I’m not afraid.” She put the pen on the paper and scrawled her name.

  Athanasius took the contract from her and stamped the parchment with wax. He added it to the piles on his desk.

  “I admire your courage,” he said, peering at her with his snakelike yellow eyes. “I have seen many who were terrified or who denied this place to the end. Hundreds came here only to return home.” He sighed. “Hundreds who died a needless, ignorant death.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “Nor should you, my dear. No one should wish death before their time. Though death comes to us in the end, it must not be sought out in haste. Wait and fade gently, that’s my motto.” His expression softened. “Don’t listen to an old man, Susan, I’m foolish I suppose.”

  “My friends call me Suzie.”

  “Do they indeed? May I call you that?”

  Suzie hesitated, but she needed every friend she could find. She nodded.

 
He laughed. “Well, Suzie, things aren’t that bad. Don’t believe the terrible stories. Being a Death is pleasant, and you may like your classes.” He rose and turned away.

  “I have something I’d like to give you. Where is…? Ah, yes.” He opened a cupboard and started rummaging through drawers. “A sign of friendship that may come in handy.” He pulled out a small cake and placed it in a red pouch.

  “This is food from the In-Between. More potent than the food they eat in the World of Deaths. The cake will bring you strength. Eat it sparingly, and only when your courage fails you. You’ll learn how they respond to a girl. My guess is it won’t be pretty. You will need to be strong.”

  “Thank you, Athanasius,” she said, taking the pouch. It seemed to shrink when she touched it, and slipped easily into her pocket. Athanasius winked.

  Cronk entered and held out his hand, beckoning Suzie to follow.

  “Until we meet again,” said Athanasius.

  “Thank you again,” she said, her voice stiff. “Goodbye.”

  “You’re welcome, Suzie, and good luck.”

  She glanced at the desk, where a massive pile of contracts sat in a heap. She wasn’t sure which one was hers. She wiped a tear away again, following Cronk out the door.

  Chapter Three

  The World of Deaths

  “Hol-hold on,” said Cronk.

  Suzie held on to his robe as he raised the massive scythe. He swung down and the world blurred. Colors, sounds, and smells assaulted Suzie at once. The ground was gone and even Cronk’s black robe seemed to fade in and out of focus. A moment later the ground appeared.

  Night blanketed the World of Deaths. The ground was soft, and she stepped on fresh grass. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust. The air was moist but cool, and had a pleasant smell of strawberries. The rotten smells were gone. Above her, stars shone in a dazzling display, far clearer than she had ever noticed at home. Large trees stood some distance off: the edge of a forest. A cluster of fireflies buzzed like fairies near the trees.