“Need I remind you, the school was very generous in accepting your transfer with your record.” the teacher said sternly, looking at Brad with a disapproving eye. He smiled as innocent as an angel.

“There won’t be any problems here, sir. I’ve reformed.” he said sweetly. The teacher glanced at his permanent record, featuring such highlights as shoplifting, assault, theft, extortion, trespassing, and more. The teacher didn’t buy it for a second.

“Hmm, I’m sure. Just remember: you’ve stayed this close to juvie ‘til now, anything will send you over the edge.”

“Yessir. I’ll be sure to be careful, sir.” ‘Careful to make sure you hear nothing.’ Brad thought to himself.

“Make sure of it. So, Mister Barker, welcome to Craven Falls High. We tolerate no disrespect or breaking of the rules.” He leaned in closer. “And I’ve heard the rumors about what your uncle does for a living. Rest assured, I am not afraid in the slightest.”

“Uncle Joe? You’ve got nothing to worry about form any of the Barkers, sir.” Brad said with a smile. ‘Nobody does, until they mouth off at him. Once I’m in, you’re first on the list.’ Uncle Joe had an unsavory reputation, but he knew how to get things done. After Brad graduated and if he wasn’t in lockup, his uncle had promised him a junior place in the organization. He stood up, all six-foot-three of him, and shook the teacher’s hand.

“You’ll start tomorrow, don’t be late.” the teacher grumbled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” He smiled and left, grinning at his ride. “Dalton, my man, I am in.”

“Great!” Dalton said. He had a face like a horse, but a solid car and was totally loyal to Brad. His record was nearly as long as his, too. “I’ve been checking this place out while you were in there. This place isn’t as tough as the city. ‘S all suburb kids, small-town nobodies here. Not’a one of ‘em’ll be any trouble, I guarantee it.” Brad’s smile grew wider.

“Fantastic, just fantastic. C’mon, I wanna eat out tonight, but my wallet’s on the lighter side.”

“I hear yah.” They started scanning the hall, but there were so few students left at this time of day, especially with the weather so nice. Dalton nudged him and pointed to a potential mark. There was a skinny brown-haired kid putting his books into his locker, chatting absently with a blond girl. They finished speaking and she kissed his cheek goodbye. Brad grinned at Dalton; this one looked like a total wimp, he’d be easy prey. After the girl left they slid into place on either side of him, Dalton on the lookout like usual.

“Hey there. Name’s Brad, Brad Barker.”

“Hey-?” the kid asked, leaning back. Brad smirked. This kid was what, a freshman? Sophomore? Couldn’t be close to Brad’s eighteen, and wasn’t built nearly big or tall enough. This was too easy. And all these kids were loaded, right?

“Hi, nice to meet you. What’s your name?” he said, forcefully shaking his hand. Jeez, did puberty even start for him?

“Uh, Scott.” the kid said, tugging his hand away.

“Hi Scott, now we’re friends. And you know what friends do, Scott?” Brad smiled as Dalton snickered. “They help each other out. See, I’ve got a problem, I don’t have enough cash to go out tonight, and I’d really like to. You know how it goes, right?

“Afraid I don’t. I don’t get out much.” Scott said mildly.

“Well, here’s the thing. If you’d lend me the money, I can see to it that you’ll be nice and safe, no question. To, uh, put it mildly, you’re a little on the scrawny side. I bet you get picked and dumped on a lot.”

“Mmm, not so much anymore.” Scott said.

“That’s great, that’s really great. But how would you like a guarantee? Twenty bucks a week for the basic protection package, it’s an offer you can’t refuse. Good, right?” Brad smiled at him.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Scott slung his bag over his shoulder and tried to walk away. Brad’s arm slammed into the locker next to his head, hard enough to leave an indentation. He glanced at Dalton, and he nodded.

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear enough. You really should pay up the money. Otherwise, some brute might just hassle you without any protection.” Brad said softly, his eyes hard.

“Are you threatening me?” Scott asked quizzically, head tilted. He didn’t sound scared or nervous, more incredulous at the fact this was happening.

“What? No, never! And as long as you pay, things’ll stay exactly like that, nice and peaceful. Got it?” Brad growled, looming over him. The runt seemed unperturbed.

“That’s extortion, you know. Totally illegal.” he said, pleasant as ever. Brad leaned in close.

“Well it may be illegal, but who’ll get sent to the hospital either way? You either give, or we take. And that little blond chick of yours wasn’t bad-looking either. Maybe I’ll show her what a real man looks like while you’re counting ceiling tiles.” he leered while Dalton giggled.

“Somehow, I don’t think your approach’ll be appreciated. And you’d better watch out, she’s tougher than I am.” the kid said, calm as ever. Brad had had it with this serene act; no one could actually be cool when he menaced them.

“That’s not saying much. Is anyone around?” Brad, cracking his knuckles asked Dalton, and with a quick glance shook his head.

“Perfect.” Scott grinned. “C’mon out.”

“Huh?” Dalton said, then his eyes bugged as the kid’s backpack opened by itself, a spindly spider-like leg protruding.

“Hah, don’t act like you’ve got friends. I’ve known tons of nerds, they all have the same lonely loser look that you do.” Brad sneered. The kid tilted his head.

“Hmm, I suppose I am a nerd. But,” he grinned wider, “I have no problem making friends.” He whistled, and there was a bang form inside his locker.

“What the hell?” Brad demanded. Dalton was too entranced by the legs slowly exiting the kid’s backpack, and Brad was too absorbed to notice.

“Just a little project of mine. Care to take a look?” Scott opened the door with a creak like an ancient tomb, and Brad was quite suddenly aware of just how late it was and how few people were around. He peered into the darkness of the locker.

A disembodied hand leapt from the darkness and latched itself around his windpipe. He tried to scream, but the fingers crushed his throat. Dalton saw beady eyes and multiple heads and legs before some bizarre rat-spider-thing jumped on his face, muffling his howls. Brad tried to pry the hand from his throat, but the fingers were locked tight. He felt his face swell up and vision start to dim. Scott watched them calmly.

“See, I got no clue who you are, and care even less. But what I don’t appreciate is being bullied. I got kind of a thing about that.” he said as Brad fell to his knees, Dalton trying to shake Tarantulas off. “I used to get picked on a lot, mostly in middle school and junior high. Not particularly sure why, never really did anything to anybody, but oh well. Never could do anything about it, but now I don’t have to. I have people to deal with that for me.”

He leaned against the locker, watching Brad turn blue. “You know, now that I’m a bit older and wiser, I can see just how petty and meaningless this all really is. Now I could just let things proceed here and peace out, but I don’t think that’ll be good for anybody. So here’s the deal: you leave everyone in peace, we leave you in one piece. Sound good?” Scott asked pleasantly, and Brad frantically nodded. He snapped his fingers, and the undead hand dropped off while Tarantulas crawled off the sobbing Dalton, curled up in a ball. He walked over to the panting Brad.

“Now I’d like you to watch out who you attempt to intimidate in the future. It could go badly for you. Got it?” His eyes began to glow a toxic emerald green. Brad nodded wordlessly. “Good. Now git, I’ve got better things to do than play with you all day. Just remember, my friends and I will be watching.” Scott grinned as the hand scurried back into the locker and Tarantulas scuttled back into his bag. Brad whimpered and fled, pausing only to haul Dalton to his feet, running as fast as they could through the empty halls, echoing with Scott’s cruel laughter chasing them all the way.

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

“Ahh, threatening to take my lunch money. How quaint.” Scott said, wiping a tear from his eye. The locker opened and the hand stretched out on its’ fingers. “It’s alright, those morons are gone. Thanks.” Scott held up his own hand, and the greenish-grey palm met it in a high-five. Scott stuck his leg out to catch it, and it grabbed hold, scuttling up to join Tarantulas in his backpack. The spider-rat hissed.

“Simmer down in there. I know it’s cramped, but he’s handy to have around. Get it? Handy? Eh?” If Tarantulas had its’ own will it would have bit him, but Scott merely hummed a cheerful tune as he left school for the day.

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It was a beautiful afternoon in late May as Amber happily brushed the grass clear next to the gravestone. It really was nice up here, she reflected. The sun was warm and inviting, reflecting off the lake. Insects droned a welcome chorus, heralding summer as they buzzed above the water. The grass was soft and the trees tall and green, providing comfortingly cool shade across the clearing. The branches of the willow tree above the grave swayed softly in a gentle breeze. She inhaled the smell of cut grass, only hours old. She chuckled at the name on the stone next to her: Amber Harris. Taken before her time.

“And given back. Then taken for five minutes before coming back again.” She’d questioned the choice of epitaph, but her parents had been too distraught to choose so it fell to the funeral director. She leaned back against her gravestone and closed her eyes. It would be easy to fall asleep here.

She nearly had for all eternity. Last October, Amber had been murdered by the Craven Falls Killer, who turned out to be a coven of witches led by her best friend. They’d carved her heart out to sacrifice to a daemon, along with six other girls, and usher in the apocalypse. She and the world would have been doomed, but Scott had been there. Reading spells from the Necronomicon, and with her, Leo, and Detective Cross’s support, he’d raised a horde of zombies to save the day. Then two weeks later, Scott’s friend Brian had shown up, intent on proving himself the better magician with an army of mutant vampires and a pact with an elder god. With the aid of a vampire lord form Europe, a local superhero vampire called Nightfang, Scott’s brains and her own ghoulish strength, they’d managed to end the threat, Scott having advanced necromantic theory by creating zombified bacteria. Her skin still crawled at the thought of it, but after he’d weaponized it Scott was content to mostly perform more research on them and how they interacted with the body. A shadow fell across her face.

“Hey there.” she said, cracking an eye. “You said you’d only be a bit. You are late.”

“Sorry.” Scott sat down on the ground beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning back onto the gravestone. It was a refreshing coolness to contrast the warm day. “I ran into a couple of guys who tried to shake me down. In school, no less. Really, can you believe that? Sheesh.” he said, gesturing with his free arm.

“Sounds bad. They are alright, aren’t they?” Amber asked, eyebrow raised. Scott snorted.

“Ehh, they’ll be fine. Little traumatized maybe, but I say a few mental scars are good for you. Makes you interesting, right?”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes and settled into him. “Oh, did you hear about that ship they found in New York? Dredged it from the Atlantic, it’s in a museum right now, I think.”

“Yeah, that drug company paid for it, right? The S.S. Observant? They’ve been plastering it all over the news for the last couple of days. Just a publicity stunt.” Scott dismissed. “Actually, it’s given me an idea. I’m a necromancer, right? But, my last name’s Havenbrook. I’m thinking of changing it, at least for professional work, kinda like a stage name. ‘Scott Havenbrook’ doesn’t exactly scream feared master of death. Any suggestions?” he asked seriously, and she giggled.

“Hmm, how about Scott Graves?”

“Too on-the-nose.”

“Scott Bones?”

“Too short and unfocused. I sound like a doctor. Which, if you think about it, I am, just one that’s either really good or really bad and do a good patch-up job.” he pondered.

“How ‘bout…Scott Funeral? You know, so you can put the Fun in Funeral!” she giggled, and he swatted her head and smiled.

“Now you’re not even trying.” They spent some time just watching the lake, chatting idly while giant purple clouds drifted between the earth and the sun.

“-and I told my mom the mailbox was fine, there wasn’t a scratch on it or the car, but she still freaked out and couldn’t go on. I swear, I’ll never get my license at this rate. Hey, your birthday’s coming up soon, are you learning to…what’s wrong?” Amber asked, noticing Scott shifting uncomfortably.

“Nah, its nothing.” he said unconvincingly.

“C’mon, spill it.” She poked his side.

“Uh, it’s just…” He got up and started pacing, trying to put his vague thoughts and feelings into words. “It’s just, I dunno how to say it…lately, I’ve been feeling…restless, I suppose.”

“Hmm?” she inquired, head tilted.

“Well, everything’s been going great. I got nothing bad happening, my research is bearing fruit, I got you, for some reason people have been nice to me at school…” he trailed off, looking perplexed. Amber smirked. He may have been smart, but it baffled him to no end when her friends started talking to him, trying to include him. For her sake; she’d remembered the looks she’d gotten when her friends found out she started dating Scott Havenbrook last January.

“Him? He’s such a weirdo.” Brienna had said.

“Yeah, you could probably do better.” Chelsea had chimed in, watching him furiously take notes at his desk. “Hmm, but maybe worse, though. He’s got a handsome face at least, even if he’s too scrawny. But like Bri said, I hear he’s got personality problems.”

“He can be a bit…coarse…” Amber had said tactfully, “and maybe not the best person in the world, but he’s really very sweet when you get to know him and he opens up to you. It’s just,” she winced, unable to lie. “He does tend to rub people the wrong way.”

“I’m just surprised you two weren’t dating before now, you hang out often enough.” Joy had said, chin in hand. “How’d you two hit it off, anyway? As far as I know, he doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“Oh, uh, remember when I was in the hospital last year? H-He was uh, g-getting his tonsils removed and we were in the same ward. Since we were from the same school, we got to chatting and well…heh heh…” She tried to play it off coolly, not mentioning she’d been a ghost, bound to his soul to stave off oblivion at the time.

“Is it really so bad they’re trying to include you in stuff now?” Amber asked, snapping back to the present.

“Uh…I guess it’s not.” Scott mumbled, face red. Amber laughed. He liked to present himself as a tough guy loner, but seeing him grow made her smile. “But it’s weird.” he continued. “Everything’s going…right. It’s putting me on edge.”

“Scott, maybe try to relax a bit? I mean, we took care of all the problems. This’s our reward, so let’s enjoy it. I know there’ll be more issues in the future, but they’ll be mundane things. I know you can work through ‘em easy.” Amber reassured him.

“Of course, I am a genius.” he said matter-of-factly, making her roll her eyes. “But, I could see that being it, everything’s going too well. But I feel…something, I guess.”

“Feel?” she asked, frowning. Scott nodded.

“I’m sorry, I can’t really describe it. The stars are getting brighter, all of them. There’s a smoothness to my necromancy right now that I don’t think comes from practice. My teeth’re itching, my brain’s vibrating ‘cause something should be wrong but isn’t, you know?” Amber tugged at her ponytail worriedly.

“Do…do you think it’s something supernatural again?” she asked. Six months. Only six months of peace, without chaos and death. But she knew better than to doubt Scott’s instincts on something like this.

“I don’t know. Honestly, could be nothing. Could be because my routine’s so routine by now. Could be the apocalypse. Hell, could be I was shaken down and had Arnold Palmer and Tarantulas deal with it.” At mention of their names, the greenish-grey hand and rat-spider monster poked out of Scott’s bag, making her jump.

“Jeez guys, don’t do that.” Scott grinned at her, then dismissed them with a wave of his hand and sat down.

“Ehh, maybe I’m just being paranoid. Or impatient. I’ve pushed the boundaries of what’s possible with necromancy before even leaving high school. I just, I wonder what’s next.” He sighed. “Where do I go from here? Where can I go?”

“Hey. Relax. Don’t overthink this stuff too much.” Amber smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “Wherever you go, I’ll be there with you.” Scott turned away, red-faced.

“’Kay.” he mumbled. He was never gonna get used to this. Suddenly, a raindrop hit his nose. The clouds had coalesced, and the bright day had turned grey and rainy. “Let’s get outta here. Want something to eat?”

“Sounds good.” They packed up and went downhill at a hurried pace, hoping to get out of the cemetery before they got too wet. As they passed by the graves, Scott froze. He was hearing a sound that was intimately familiar. He put up a hand and Amber stopped behind him, hearing it too. They crept through the trees, following the sound of a shovel digging into dirt.

As the trees thinned they could make out a teenager in a white shirt digging into several graves, a mound of earth beside each one. As he drew closer, Scott could see the caskets mostly uncovered, yet unopened.

“Isn’t that Eduardo, from class?” Amber whispered. They guy paused to wipe sweat from his forehead, and she was sure of it.

“Uh, probably? I don’t pay attention.” Scott whispered back. They watched him for a moment, digging up the last grave in a row. He was nodding his head to the beat produced by a small boombox next to him.

“What’s he doing? He’s not grave robbing, is he?” Amber wondered. Scott’s face hardened.

“I can only hope so. I’ve gotta find out for sure.” He glanced around; there was no one else here. He nodded to Amber, and she nodded back. He slowly and quietly unzipped his bag, and strode forward.

“Excuse me!” he called, stepping into view. Eduardo turned to him, the shovel half in the dirt. “Couldn’t help but notice you excavating some graves there. Mind filling me in as to why?”

“None of your business, man.” Eduardo said, resuming shoveling. Scott sighed and walked up to him.

“Does it really look like I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t go around poking his nose where it belongs? ‘Sides, it’s my business. I have a very strong affinity for this cemetery, so you’ll give me an answer or there’ll be trouble.” Scott growled. “Why are you digging up these graves?” Eduardo paused.

“Huh. You’re right there will be trouble. For you. Now back off, or else.” he warned.

“Is that a threat?” Scott said, cracking his knuckles.

“It’s a promise, jeffe.” They stared each other down, the rain and mist soaking them. Amber leaned forward, unknowingly snapping a twig. At the sound, Eduardo started, swinging the shovel up. “How many of you are there?” he demanded, pointing the blunt instrument at Scott.

“The only one you need to worry ‘bout’s right here. And I gotta say, you’re acting real suspicious, man.” At that, Eduardo showed a cracked smile.

“It don’t matter how many of you there are. I gotcha outnumbered.” He dug something out of his pocket and swung his hand to his mouth.

“Outnumbered?” Scott said, fingering the chalk in his pocket.

“Of course.” Eduardo clapped his hand and threw his arms out wide. “After all, this is a graveyard, and I am a necromancer!”

Scott froze and his head tilted.

“Huh?”