While the vampire was dead and the funding for the security system had been secured, the fact of the matter was the school was now missing several crucial staff members. Lucy had been one of only two secretaries for the entire school, we needed a mathematics teacher to replace Gina, and we needed a total of ten replacement people for the security and custodial departments.

And that meant I needed to conduct interviews. For the security personnel I could just go through the same hiring agencies I’d used before, same for custodians and a replacement secretary. But for a math teacher I would need to evaluate candidates personally; that was an uncommon skillset, and those willing to work in a school like this were even fewer in number. I would have few choices about who to hire, and it was crucial I made the correct decision.

So I put out a request for math teacher candidates through the education department. There were four applicants for the position, and they all agreed to come in Monday.

The morning of, I was sitting across from Jethro in the cafeteria as I usually did. I was thoroughly enjoying some good real waffles after far too many pre-made sandwiches.

As for Jethro... he was still looking incredibly glum, and I couldn’t really blame him for it. Some of his best friends and co-workers had just died, after all. Telling him to cheer up wouldn’t really help at all, so I kept eating.

After a while, I did have something to say about it. “I know it’s hard to handle this sort of thing. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“Thanks for the offer Adrian, but I’m just not in the mood for it right now. Maybe later. I really hope your interviews go well.”

Jethro got up, and wandered away. He left about half of his breakfast behind. Oh.

The rest of breakfast passed in a rather dour mood. I ate my food, and brought Jethro’s tray up to the tray return for him. After about two hours of routine paperwork I figured the candidates would be arriving any minute now, so I wandered down to the train station to greet them.

Sure enough, there was that reliable small locomotive whirring along towards the school. A couple minutes later it slowed to a stop at the platform, and the four people I would be interviewing stepped out of the passenger carriage.

Three men, one woman. All of them had dressed up in sensible, professional clothing which I thoroughly approved of. They also all had some sort of bag or container for reference materials, which I considered a very good sign.

I greeted them. “Hello, I’m Adrian, the headmaster of this school. I take it you’re all interested in the math teacher position?”

As one they agreed, and I lead them in.

The first interview was with one of the men, Roose Bolton. As he entered my office I asked “So, Roose. Which subjects of math are you qualified to teach?”

Roose smiled, “Quite a lot of them. I’ve published proofs for several important theorems in number theory, statistics, and topology. As for calculus I find doing it quite easy, and can demonstrate if you’d like.”

I nodded, “Right. If I knew no calculus whatsoever, how would you teach differentiation and integration?”

“Do you have a chalkboard or whiteboard available?”

I nodded, “Sure, I can get a whiteboard in here without much hassle.”

A few minutes later a whiteboard was present, and it was time for Roose’s demonstration.

Almost immediately I could tell he was having the same problem I’d had when I tried teaching Mancia. He was blazing through demonstration equations one after another, writing up explanations for how they worked in excruciating detail, and moving on to the next one before I had any time to process what he was actually showing me.

“Roose, could you go a bit slower please? We have several hours for interviews and I’m having a hard time following what you’re doing.”

Roose blinked, “Oops. Sorry Mr. Adley.” and obligingly slowed down. The issue is that he still kept going into way more excruciating detail than was actually necessary. That would make things way harder than they needed to be for a student learning this stuff for the first time.

No, Roose probably wouldn’t be getting the job. He was an excellent mathematician and a seemingly reasonable person, but that didn’t translate into being a good teacher.

Next up was the only female candidate, a brunette by the name of Jenny Wools.

“So, Jenny? What subjects can you teach?”

Jenny opened up her briefcase to retrieve her certifications. “I’m officially licensed to teach arithmetic, geometry, algebra, trigonometry, and calculus. I overheard what happened while you were interviewing Roose, and I can assure you I won’t have that same problem.”

I hummed. “Very well then. Demonstrate.”

Demonstrate Jenny did. She displayed a decent level of competence in all areas of mathematics she was certified for, though she had to take her time. But by the same note she had very clear, practical explanations of exactly how everything worked and how to do it.

Jenny was clearly a generalist, able to handle a wide variety of mathematical fields to a reasonable degree of competence. Where she really excelled was in teaching, and making sure her students actually understood what was going on.

A pretty good candidate, but there were still two more to go.

The third candidate was another man, by the name of Vladimir. His qualifications were only for arithmetic, geometry, and algebra. The real issue there is that he had too much overlap with our surviving math teacher, who also mostly taught arithmetic and geometry, with the occasional trigonometry class. If I hired Vlad, the students’ proficiency with more advanced mathematics would suffer significantly.

So even though Vladimir was quite competent at the subjects he could teach, he just wasn’t a good fit for the school at the moment. Even with being quite good at the actual teaching part of the job.

The fourth and final candidate was named Tim Rust. He entered, and as usual the first question I asked was, “So. What subjects are you qualified to teach?”

Tim got out his list of teaching certifications, while also saying, “I’m qualified for algebra, trigonometry, statistics, and calculus. Will admit that my arithmetic skills have suffered a bit from disuse though.”

I read through the list, and Tim indeed had certification for all the subjects he’d mentioned. Now the big question was simple: could he actually teach the stuff he knew?

“Mr. Rust, could you please demonstrate?”

He nodded, “Certainly, Mr. Adley.” and got to work on the whiteboard. Over the next forty minutes or so I couldn’t help but compare Mr. Rust to Jenny. Mr. Rust was clearly competent at actually teaching, while Jenny was excellent at it. When it came to their actual mathematical proficiency, the situation was reversed; Jenny was competent, Tim was excellent.

At the end of the demonstration, I thanked Tim and got to thinking about who to hire. I ruled out Roose immediately; he was great at math but the man just couldn’t teach. I also ruled out Vladimir in short order; he could teach, but his coverage of subjects was lacking.

And so I was left with the honestly quite difficult task of choosing between Jenny Wools and Tim Rust. If I had the budget for it I’d hire both of them, but the fact of the matter is that I didn’t. Both of them could cover the higher level mathematical subjects, with the main trade-off being between teaching ability and mathematical proficiency.

If I picked Jenny, I’d have a teacher who could cover Algebra and Calculus with reasonable mathematical proficiency, but excellent teaching ability. She’d also be able to cover for Sarah if something happened to her.

If I picked Tim, I’d have someone exceedingly proficient with Algebra, Calculus, and Statistics. Someone who could teach all of those subjects with a reasonable degree of competence. But there wouldn’t be any fault tolerance; if something happened to either math teacher subjects would go untaught, until we got someone else in.

I spent at least an hour agonizing over which of the two to hire, and arguing with myself at every turn. At the end, the deciding factor was pretty simple. Tim could teach a subject Jenny couldn’t, and statistics was important.

Now it was a matter of breaking the news to the three who didn’t get the job. Checking the clock they were probably in the cafeteria at the moment, so that’s where I would go too. I was also pretty hungry myself, come to think of it.

Sure enough, the four of them were all sitting down with lunch together. I walked over.

It was Vladimir who noticed me first.

“Ah, Mr. Adley. Here to tell us who got the job, I suppose?”

I nodded. Right, let’s get this over and done with.

“I’m hiring Tim Rust as math teacher. I hope you all understand.”

Jenny took it pretty well, actually. “Eh, figured. I’ve got five more interviews lined up this week. Most of them at non-magical schools, though the pay won’t be as good there.”

Vladimir had a similar response to Jenny, drily noting that he also had several more positions he’d applied to.

But Roose…

“WHAT! This is an outrage! I am the finest mathematician here, how come I didn’t get the position!?”

I glared at him, “You may be good at math, but you just can’t teach. I’d advise sticking to research and professional contexts.”

The staring contest continued for a good thirty seconds before I tired of it. My other side flared Authority slightly as we spoke, “Roose, you are not getting the job. That is final.”

That finally got him to sit back down. Crisis averted, I got in the line for lunch. A few minutes later with food tray in hand I made my way to a table. On the way I happened to catch the briefest glimpse of what looked like Lucy trying to comfort Jethro, even as he sobbed into his food. Right, my friend needs me.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

When I got there, it was pretty clear Mr. Slate had much the same idea. He was sitting right next to Jethro, and had one of his hands on the head custodian’s shoulder. I sat across from the both of them. Slate shook his head. Ah. Apparently I should stay out of this one.

So I ate my lunch in silence. I dearly wanted to help Jethro through this, but there wasn’t much I could do in that department. He’d lost several friends recently, and that loss was hurting him badly.

After about forty minutes, I could have sworn I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw another glimpse of Lucy. Right, let’s get to the bottom of this. I dug out my Mancia glasses from their pocket, and set them to energy inspector mode.

Sure enough, right in the middle of the cafeteria was a tangle of mangled reality and sheer defiance. One of a type I’d seen several times during my career as an insurance investigator. We had a ghost at the school. A pretty new one too, given how coherent they were; ghosts decayed to nothing in about six months if not actively maintained.

Right, think think think, what was official ghost-handling protocol? Ah yes, identify, interview, reform.

That’s when the ghost started moving, leaving the cafeteria and heading for the corridor. Ah, if that’s Lucy then she’s probably headed for my office. Either way this is the sort of interview that should take place in a private location.

So I got up from my chair and followed. If this was someone who’d died in the attack, then just maybe we wouldn’t have lost everyone we thought we did.

I followed the ghost all the way to my office. According to my glasses they had hovered to a stop just in front of the desk. I took the cue to sit down across, and got out a piece of paper. We had an authorization to write.

As it was being written, I noted “Now, I could go through all the trouble of pumping energy into you and facilitating conversation that way. But I think it would be much simpler to simply tell reality’s pesky little rules to make an exception. Touch the document here to sign.”

As for what the two of me had written?

I hereby authorize the deceased to appear and speak as they did in life at no energy cost, so long as they remain within my office.

-Adrian Adley

Signature of Deceased: ___________________

I saw the tangle of defiance reach for the line, and the text filled itself in.

Signature of Deceased: Lucy Thorncroft

Then reality began to shudder. What was happening now was quite simple. Lucy was dead, and dead people couldn’t talk to the living without a whole lot of energy backing them up. But we had told the universe that this one could. And with how frighteningly skilled at bureaucracy my other side was? Reality didn’t dare contradict us.

Suddenly Lucy popped into full visibility, tall and slender in the suit she commonly wore during working hours.

There were a few moments of silence, before Lucy experimentally tried to pick up one of the pens in my pen holder. Her hand slipped right through, and the pen didn’t even move.

“Oh. I… I guess I’m not alive again after all.”

I nodded sadly, “There are some things even I can’t do without significant cost. I made it so you can be seen and heard, but that doesn’t mean you can be touched.”

Standing in the center of my office, Lucy asked, “So… where do we go from here? I know I’m not fully alive, but dying all the way is terrifying.”

I thought for a moment, “One way or another we need to get you a body of some description, or you’re going to fade. There are relatively few options that are workable. Given Anne’s… proclivities she could probably do it if we found a substitute brain for you to inhabit. An inorganic body made via Craft or an appropriate transcendent skill is a known solution, but very expensive. The final option is finding someone willing to share their body with you, be it on a permanent or temporary basis.”

Lucy thought for a moment. “Why is a brain necessary, exactly? I’m thinking now without one after all.”

I answered, “As far as I know it greatly reduces the strain you place on reality and thus the energy cost of existing, while also stabilizing you against interference.”

The deceased secretary thought for a moment, “...Then how do those inorganic bodies do it? The ones using Ductile magic, not Sharp stuff. If there were a way to take care of the interference, I wouldn’t mind having to chug an energy potion every so often.”

“I honestly don’t know. I never studied Craft in any great detail.”

After a bit, Lucy asked, “Could we maybe get Anne in here? I know for a fact she’s done some resurrections before her employment here, and she’s got a huge stock of spare organs and bones and stuff she uses to fix people up. She might have some ideas.”

I thought for a moment, “We still haven’t figured out how to actually put you in there, but we might as well.”

A couple minutes later, Anne had arrived. As soon as she spotted Lucy, she startled slightly. But a few moments later she seemed to have fully processed what was happening.

“Ah, I see you have a patient in need of re-corporealization. Fortunately I should be able to make that happen without much trouble, provided I get a little help with the final step.”

I blinked, “Wait, didn’t you need to get a brain somewhere last time this came up?”

Anne nodded, “Yes, that is correct. Which is why I’ve been growing some blanks in jars for the last few months. They’re just about ready for usage.”

It occurred to me now that I’d never looked in the infirmary’s storage rooms. Considering that Anne apparently had a whole organ-growing operation back there, that was definitely a major oversight on my part.

Somewhat dreading the answer, I asked, “Anne, out of curiosity how many people’s worth of… spare parts do you keep on hand at any given time?”

The doctor’s face brightened up, “Oh, about thirty. I’ve only got six brains at the moment though. Now come on we’ve got a death to reverse, and I can’t do the Mancia to put Lucy in the new brain myself.”

And that’s how I got roped into helping Anne surgically assemble a woman from assorted parts, wearing a respirator and surgical gloves as we did so. Lucy had come along to watch, though the effect bringing her into visibility ceased as soon as we left my office.

Throughout the procedure, I couldn’t help but notice just how… unaffected Anne was. I was passing her nerves, bones, blood vessels, muscles, organs, and other bits of biological matter and barely keeping from throwing up. But Anne was treating this like it was totally routine, cracking weird jokes and fusing bits of somehow living tissue together in ways that really shouldn’t work.

In three hours, we’d assembled a body that was a near-perfect match for how Lucy had been in life, brains and all. The only sign that anything was off was the barely visible surgical seams all across its skin, a complete lack of hair, and the fact that it was currently lying inert.

Then Anne turned to me. “Right, you’re the Mancia expert. Putting Lucy in her new body is your job.”

I nodded, got out a marker, and started writing the needed script on her new forehead. It took a couple minutes to get it just right.

“Got the mental integrator written properly. Lucy, touch that and you’ll get pulled in.”

Through my spectacles, I saw that tangle of denial and defiance reach for the central spot of the formation. A moment later, she was in… but the body still wasn’t moving.

On the other hand, Anne seemed to notice a change of some sort. “Ah, the brain has accepted her in. Excellent, time for the final step.”

As the physician of slightly dubious sanity rummaged around for the needed equipment, I couldn’t help but ask

“Anne, what is the last step exactly?”

Turning around with a pair of cables in hand and a massive grin evident on her face, she answered.

“Why, the jump start of course! Now clip that one to her big toe, we need to make sure the current passes through both the brain and the heart!”

I did as Anne asked, and when I looked up she’d already covered Lucy’s head with electrodes.

“Excellent.”

Then Anne closed the switch (since when was there an industrial electrical switch in here!?), and my glasses immediately flared up showing the massive amounts of power at play. The room positively reeked of ozone as the energy coursed through Lucy’s now writhing form, and I couldn’t help but feel distinctly uneasy. That’s when I noticed something: the energy was disappearing into the operating table.

This wasn’t Ductile magic, and it wasn’t Sharp either. This was sacrificial magic, and that could only be done by a monster. I knew that couldn’t be Anne, which meant… it was the operating table.

I barely had time to process all of this before Anne cut the power and helped Lucy to her feet with a great degree of urgency. To Anne’s credit she seemed alright and I couldn’t detect any soul damage that would leave her a monster.

That said… “Lucy, quick question to make sure it’s really you. How did you die?”

She flinched, before answering, “Vampire. Bit me on the neck and drained me.”

A few more questions passed and Lucy was seeming incredibly uncomfortable, on the verge of tears. But her responses were exactly the reassurance I’d needed.

I nodded sadly “Sorry for putting you through that. Lucy, you may go.”

Tears dripping from her eyes, the resurrected secretary bolted from the infirmary. As soon as she left the room, I turned to Anne.

“We need to talk. Why do you have an operating table with a monster soul in it?”

Anne nervously tapped her fingers together, before admitting, “I made it; that’s just about as benign as monsters come and it’s been proven highly useful. A simple trade of energy for life. It’s an old family technique.”

Possibilities whirled through my mind, and two pressing questions presented themselves.

“Anne, I want you to be entirely honest with me because this is very important. Which family?”

Anne very clearly didn’t want to answer, but after several moments she admitted, “My real name is Franz Nervenstein1. I’m a Nervenstein. I know what you’re thinking I’m not like the rest of them I was disowned for caring about my patients please don’t tell anyone I’m practicing medicine dad will harvest my organs!”

Oh. Them. That explained everything. Considering how he (she? they?) must have been raised by that lineage of medical nightmares… it was a minor miracle Franz hadn’t ended up a truly horrific person. I nodded sadly.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t let news of your location… or self-inflicted transition reach your family.”

That seemed to calm him(?) down a bit, and I figured I could ask my next question. The one that would determine if I needed to get the NMCU involved. I gestured to the operating table.

“So how exactly did you make it? Just out of academic curiosity.”

Franz seemed much happier to talk about this.

“Ah, good news on that front. The spiritual fragments used there were artificially cultured. It’s a bit tricky getting it exactly right, but I still have my copy of the instructions around here if you want to read up on it.”

As Franz started rummaging through his closet for the book in question, I let my concern abate. Despite his origins and unconventional methods, he was as benign as he realistically could be.

“I believe you, Franz. I believe you.”

Franz either didn’t hear me, or was too focused on finding the notes in question to care. After a few moments he dug out a notebook titled ‘On the creation of useful monsters’

“This is my copy of great-grandpa Victor’s research into monster souls. How to make them, break them, change them, and use them. It’s… it’s one of the only things from my family that I’m actually happy to have. The experiments detailed in the first part are horrific, but the second half is full of useful techniques that don’t actually need much if any unethical activity.”

Wait a moment, I think I remember this from history class back in school. There was a major uptick in vampire encounters about eighty years ago; it turned into quite the cause for concern.

“Franz, did your great grandfather make any vampires in the course of his research by any chance?”

Franz nodded, “Yes, at least four hundred of them. They’re one of the easier monsters to make, so a lot of his early research used them as lab animals. As far as I can tell he just discarded them into the wild after he was done experimenting on any given specimen.”

...The school doctor has a tome full of techniques on how to make monsters. A book written by a madman who treated vampires like lab rats and lived to tell the tale. And Franz uses its instructions to make medical equipment.

I think I need to lie down...

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