She shakes her head. “That’d be easier to believe if this wasn’t the first time you’ve caused trouble, but it’s not. You’re one of my most troubled cases. I’m honestly surprised Tim and Tina even took you in. And now…” She lets out an exasperated sigh.
I bite down on my tongue, wanting to scream in frustration. But I resist the urge, knowing she’s right. I have gotten into a lot of trouble over the years, have caused a lot of breakdowns.
You’re a liar.
No one wants you.
You’re a monster.
As an overwhelming loneliness overcomes me, I hug my backpack against my chest. It contains all of my belongings; a few outfits, my journal, a couple of books, and a locket that was left with me when my mother—or father—left me at the fire station only a few days after I was born. No one knows who my parents are, why they abandoned me, or even when my real birthday is. I had nothing with me other than a blanket, the basket that I was in, and that locket. That’s it. There wasn’t even a photo in the locket. Just a piece of paper that had Haven Wyllowravelee written on it. Everyone assumed that was my name, but no one could ever find any records of me being born, or linking me to anyone who could be my parents, like I was some sort of alien dropped into the world. Maybe that’s what I am. I don’t know, though, besides my weird ability, odd personality, and freaky eyes, everything else about me seems normal. I can bleed, get hurt, scar. In fact, I scar really easily.
Still, I can't stop thinking about where I come from and why I am the way I am. Sometimes I find myself making up stories in my head about why my parents dropped me off at the station. Maybe my mom was running from bad people and thought it'd be the only way I'd be safe. Maybe both my parents were killed, and someone else left me there. Deep down, though, I know those kinds of stories probably aren't what really happened. That more than likely my parents just didn't want me, just like Lea said.
"At this point, I'm not even sure where to place you," Beth continues on, interrupting my internal pity party. "With your file and you being seventeen… It's hard to place seventeen-year-olds as it is."
“So I’m going to a group home again?” I ask, a bit of relief washing over me.
Sure, group homes suck balls, but the idea of moving in with another foster family, of not knowing what kind of family I’ll get placed with… my stomach churns just thinking about it. At least in a group home, I’m less likely to have to deal with Tims. Although, group homes come with their own complications, but still…
I think I need a break from living with adults.
"Unfortunately, I don't think we have another option right now," Beth replies, reaching for her phone. "Go wait out in the waiting room while I make some calls and find out which home can take you in."
Nodding, I leave her office and get comfortable in the waiting area, which is vacant since it’s Sunday. Since this isn’t my first rodeo, I know it could take Beth hours to get me set up in a group home. Thankfully, I have some books I can read.
But I barely get one out when Beth strolls into the waiting room.
"Good news, Haven." She smiles at me. Actually freakin' smiles, something I've never seen her do in the years I've known her. "I've managed to get you into a special group home that focuses on unique teenagers like you."
“Um… okay.” Her smile is freaking me out, but I do my best not to stare at it. “What do you mean by unique?” God, please don’t let this be one of those group homes for dangerous kids.
“Special,” she explains while continuing to smile at me like a possessed maniac.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was possessed.
Or the pink crazy-haired woman in disguise, like she body-snatched Beth or something.
I mentally shake my head at that thought. Why would you think that, Haven? That kind of shit doesn’t exist.
Right?
I don’t know… considering what I can do…
I eyeball Beth over. “Is everything okay?”
She gives a cheerful nod. "This is going to be good for you. This place… I think you'll fit in well there." She tugs at the sleeves of her button-down shirt. "They'll be picking you up in about an hour. While you wait, maybe you should go clean up a bit."
Since when does she tell me to clean up?
"You're not taking me there?" In the ten odd years I've known her, she's always driven me to the group home and checked me in.
She shakes her head. “Like I said, this is a special group home.” She snaps her fingers, signaling for me to go to the bathroom. “Now go clean up. I don’t want them showing up and seeing you like this. They might take back your spot if they do.”
Swallowing hard, I collect my bag, get up and head into the bathroom, creeped out at how I can feel her watch me the entire way, only looking away when I push into the bathroom.
“She’s acting so weird,” I mutter to myself as I make my way over to the mirror/sink area.
I cringe the instant I catch sight of my reflection, realizing why Beth told me to clean up.
My long, dark hair is a tangled mess, and my nearly black eyes are bloodshot, which makes them look even creepier. I also have dirt all over my cheeks, and a couple of droplets of bloodstain the front of my grey T-shirt.
Where the hell did the blood come from?
I check my arms and face over. Then my legs. Since I’m wearing shorts, I get a good look at how badly my knees are scraped up, old blood crusted on my flesh. Maybe that’s where the blood came from, but how did it get on my shirt? It doesn’t make sense.
I lift up my shirt to check my stomach, and my heart slams to a stop. Moving across my flesh are what appear to be blood veins, prominent and protruding like they're about to pop out of my skin.
Just like Tim’s were.
But when I blink, my skin returns to normal.
“What the actual hell?” I mutter as I run my fingers across my now smooth flesh.
Well, this is definitely new. But I’m not sure what to make of it, other than maybe I’m losing my mind.
Maybe I'm going crazy. Perhaps that's why I'm going to this special group home. Maybe special means for the insane. Or perhaps they're sending me to a mental institution. Or maybe I am going to that group home for dangerous kids.
I swallow hard then start to scrub the dirt off my face. Then I change my shirt and comb my fingers through my hair. My shoelaces are untied, but I'm too exhausted to bend down and tie them.
I just want to leave, escape all of this.
As I exit the bathroom, I debate whether I should make a run for it. I've run away before, but I've always gotten caught a day or two later. Still, I'd rather try then just let them take me to this "special" group home—
I slap to the stop as shock unexpectedly whips through me. “What the hell is that?” I whisper as I stare at the… well, I’m not sure what the swirling circle of darkness in front of me is.
I start to step back into the bathroom, unsure what else to do when Beth appears beside me.
"Your ride has arrived, Haven." She gives me that manic smile again, and a chill slithers down my spine.
I trip backward, trying to get away from her, but she snatches hold of my arm, her smile broadening. Then, as if a veil has been lifted from her, she shifts from looking like a middle-aged, grey-haired woman to a twenty-something-year-old gothic chick with cotton candy pink hair.
My eyes widen. “You’re the crazy woman I ran into earlier.”
"Not a woman. A witch." She grins. "And you're a maddening, which means you shouldn't be here. Luckily, I found you before something else did. Evil or not, you need to be protected. And don't worry about being a monster. Where you're going, monsters are accepted. And they'll protect you there."
I barely register her words before she shoves me forward toward the swirling circle of darkness.
“Hey! What the hell!” I shout as I attempt to regain my balance.
But I end up tripping over my shoelaces.
Dammit,
I should’ve laced them.
I didn’t, though, and now I’m stumbling straight into the vortex.
Into the darkness.
That I’m pretty sure might lead to Hell.
Haven
Darkness, darkness everywhere.
Surrounding me.
Pulling me down.
Into the pits of hell—
Swoosh.
I fall out of the vortex and land on a shiny black marble floor. But I don’t land very gracefully and my legs giving out on me. I trip forward, nearly landing on my face. Luckily, I get my hands out in time or else I may have broken my face.
“Well, that was close.” Relief trickles through me until I remember that I just fell out of a vortex that I’m pretty sure leads to hell.
Shit, am I in Hell?
I quickly stumble to my feet, adjusting my backpack, my gaze skimming along the massive black columns lining the grey walls. Above me is a domed ceiling painted with a mural of a woman with glitter silver skin, and snakes and flames surround her. Pieces of embers float in the air and smoke swirls around me.
“Yeah, I’m definitely in Hell,” I mutter, turning in a circle, trying to figure out if I’m hallucinating.
Logically, it seems like I am, yet everything feels so real, as if I’m just waking up from a seventeen-year dream and finally entering reality.
What doesn’t seem real, though, is how unafraid I am.
I should be freaking out, right? I mean, some crazy woman… or well, witch as she told me…
I stop my thoughts right there. Witches don’t exist.
Then again, what I did to Tim and Mia shouldn’t exist either.
“Holy crap, did I really meet a witch?” I mutter, deciding I must be in shock or something. That has to be the reason I’m not freaking out that… “I’m in Hell.”
“Oh no, honey, this isn’t hell, I assure you.” A crackling voice sails over my shoulder.
I startle, spinning around, only to be startled again by a person… creature… whatever it is that’s standing in front of me.
It’s tall, even compared to my five foot ten height. Where its hair should be, flames blaze instead, smoke funnels from its eye sockets, and its flesh singes like embers. Weirdly, it’s wearing a pair of nice black pants, and a shirt, vest, and tie, all formal attire. Nice looking even.
"You know, Hell being all fire and smoke is a complete misconception." The creature informs me with a glowing smile. "Don't get me wrong. There is a lot of fire there, but some of us fire demons got together about a century ago and decided to spruce it up a bit. We put up a big rainbow in front of the Death Pit and even dazzled up the smoky sky with a bit of pink starlight. It can be really pretty at night. Well, if you can get past the stench of burning flesh." He thrums his finger against his lips. "I haven't figured out a way to cover up that smell yet. One day, though, I'll figure it out." He blinks from his thinking trace and focuses on me. "But anyway, on behalf of Monster Academy for the Magical, I'd like to welcome you to your new home for the next year." He snaps his fingers, and a handheld device appears in his palm. "Let me just look at your file and see which office I need to take you to to check you in." He starts humming a tune under his breath as he reads something on the screen of the device.
Me? I just stand there, completely dumbstruck and fully convinced I’m dead. Or in some sort of trance induced nightmare.
I pinch myself then wince. Shit, that hurt.
"Aw, here it is," the… fire demon—at least that's what he called himself—says. "Mary T. Starford, daughter of Jill and Alford, two of those most powerful witches in all the realms, and who happened to be graduates of Monster Academy for the Magical." He smiles proudly. "Not that we like to take full credit for our pupils' achievements, but we'd like to think the academy played a part in their success."
“I…” Witches? Monster Academy? What the… I struggle to find words so I can tell him I have no damn clue what’s going on, but I can’t get anything coherent to leave my lips.
“What is it, honey?” The fire demon asks with concern. “Are you nervous? If so, maybe I can get my hands on a bit of relaxation potion.”
I shake my head. Just spit it out. “My name’s not Mary T. Starford.”
Okay, that’s a start.
Frowning, he returns his attention to the screen. “Are you sure?” Smoke hisses from his fingers as he scratches his head. “Because I’m not supposed to have another arrival today.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” This time my voice comes out a bit more even.
"Okay." Confusion cracks in the embers covering his forehead as he looks back at me. "The files must've gotten mixed up. While we have it pretty together around here, mistakes do sometimes happen, thanks to everything running on technology these days."
His words remind me of this cranky man I lived with for a couple of weeks about four years ago. He hated anything that had to do with technology and was always ranting about it. But he wasn’t too bad of a person, and I wouldn’t have minded living with him permanently. Sadly, though, he died of a heart attack not too long after I was placed with him.
But what I find strange that his and the fire demon’s words match up so well. Maybe I’m having a Wizard of Oz moment. Maybe I’m currently lying on the floor of the waiting room at social services, passed out and dreaming.
“What’s your name?” the fire demon asks, drawing me from my thoughts.
I swallow down a shaky breath and will my voice to come out even. “Haven Wyllowravelee.”
His confusion doubles, just like the cracks in his skin. “And what is your power?”
“I…” What? “Um… I don’t have one.” Do I?
I think about what I did to Tim and Mia.
But what sort of power is that?
He gives me a tolerant look. “Nice try. But I’ve heard better excuses to try getting out of going here. I don’t know why you newbies freak out during your arrival here. It’s not that bad. I mean, sure, it does kind of has that whole demon lair vibe going in this area,” he gestures around the room. “But this is just the entryway.”
“I’m not trying to get out of here,” I insist, although that might be a lie—I’m not really sure how I feel at the moment. “I really don’t know what my power is. I don’t even know why I’m here… Or where here is.”
Tension flashes across his face. “What realm did you enter here from?”
"I... um… The human one?" It comes out sounding more like a question.
When his expression dims, I know I've given a wrong answer to his question.
“Oh dear.” The smoke stops funneling from his eyes, leaving me to stare at the gaping holes where his eyeballs should be. “I’ve never had to deal with this kind of situation before,” he mumbles as he glances at the handheld device. He’s quiet for a crackle of a moment, and then smoke slowly starts to pour from his eyes again. “I think I need to take you to the main dungeon.”
My eyes widen as I step back. “Um, no thanks. I think I’ll just go home.”
But what is home, Haven? You don't have one. You're supposed to be in a group home right now. Or, well, that's what Beth said. But Beth turned into a pink-haired woman who shoved me into this vortex so…
He gives me a funny look. “Relax. The main dungeon is where all the new students go to check in. Not that you’re a new student, but the headmistress and headmaster might have a better idea of what to do with you.” He ambles toward a set of tall, blood red doors at the far end of the room. “Come along, honey.” He snaps his fingers at me, signaling for me to follow him.
Seeing no other option, I muster up every ounce of courage I have and follow him toward the door, still not fully convinced this place isn’t Hell.
Haven
On the other side of the doors is a wide hallway that seemingly goes on for miles. Lanterns light up the way, black and red tiles pave the floor, and flames cover the ceiling, yet the air is strangely cold.
We don’t remain in
the hallway for very long before the fire demon comes to a stop in front of another set of tall, red doors. He opens them up and ushers me inside. Then he walks in behind me, letting the doors close.
I’m not sure what I expected a main dungeon to look like, but this is definitely not it. Like the room I entered this place in, black columns line the dark grey walls, but the ceiling is covered in massive chandeliers, and what can only be described as intricately carved thrones line the room. And at the center of it all is a massive ebony desk and sitting behind it is a woman with sun orange hair is talking on what looks to be an old school antique phone.
She’s not the only… person in the room either. Some thrones are occupied by… people? Honestly, I’m not sure what any of them are, since all of them have either glittery skin, horns, or in some cases, scales.
"Come along." The fire demon signals for me to follow him as he starts up the path toward the desk. "Let's go see if we can figure out why you were sent here."
Adjusting my backpack, I trail after him, trying not to gawk at the people… creatures as I pass by them, worried the whole staring-is-rude police applies to this place too. But I fail big time as my gaze falls on a large, hairy beast-like creature with hooves for feet and eyeballs sprouting out of its head.
What the actual crap is that?
As if sensing my gaze, the beast grunts and blows smoke into my face that reeks so badly that I gag.
“Dude, it’s like she’s never seen a Seeing demon before,” a male voice drifts from somewhere nearby.
It has a musical sound, almost hypnotic, and my gaze magnetizes to it, leading me to a guy sitting beside the beast. He's watching me in amusement, and he looks around my age with sky blue hair and unnaturally looking, but incredibly gorgeous crimson lips. He's wearing a pair of dark pants, a button-down short-sleeved grey shirt, and the look is topped off with a thin tie. While his features seem human-like, his prettiness factor makes him appear otherworldly. And his eyes… They actually sparkle like rubies.
Monster Academy for the Magical, #1 Page 3
