Paranormal University: Third Semester: An Unveiled Academy Novel

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Paranormal University: Third Semester: An Unveiled Academy Novel Page 3

by Jace Mitchell


  Because she had no idea.

  All Tina really knew was that seeing beyond the sky—beyond the Veil—frightened her. That place, wherever and whatever it was, looked like nothing she’d ever witnessed.

  Tina remained sitting in her chair, staring after the FBI fucksticks and wondering one thing. Can the Five handle this, or is this out of even their control?

  Chapter Five

  “I really can’t believe I let you two sons-of-bitches live after all this shit.” Sally didn’t turn around as she spoke, just shook her head and focused on the bowling lane in front of her. She pulled the ball back and then let it fly. It rolled straight down the lane and nailed the pins.

  Strike.

  “Nice one,” Al commented sheepishly. He lifted his beer to his mouth and took a sip.

  Sally was turning back to the table when Frank spoke. “Scared of her, are ye, Al?” He nodded toward Sally the fairy. “Ye couldn’t kill me if ye tried. Maybe this one next to me, but I’m safe.”

  Sally came back to their table and sat down. She and Frank had bowled together down in Miami before the whole place went to hell.

  She was pissed about being in South Carolina. “We don’t even have a bowling league anymore. Just you two and me.”

  Frank shrugged. “I don’t know what ye want from me. I pretty much saved the city, and so I think I deserve some credit for that.”

  Sally laughed. She reached for the pitcher of beer with a wide smile. “Saved the city, huh? Then why are we here off the coast of South Carolina? If you saved Miami, shouldn’t we all be fucking bowling with a group of Mythers instead of by ourselves out here?”

  Sally was a foul-mouthed fairy, and Frank liked her. He wouldn’t ever tell her that, of course, but she was fun to be around.

  The three of them had ventured here after Frank finally got freed from the FBI entanglements. Al, the ghost, had come because there wasn’t anything left for him in Miami. The beaches were deserted except for his ghostly brethren, although most of them were psychotic. Sally had come this way instead of heading out west because “I’m not trying to hang with a bunch of fucking hippy-wannabes.”

  Frank didn’t know what that meant, and he didn’t care. He’d just shrugged at the comment, and the three of them set up base in Myrtle Beach. It wasn’t like Miami—or at least how Miami used to be—but it beat crazy ghosts, evil witches, and the FBI.

  That’s what Frank was trying to avoid now. The FBI.

  “You gonna bowl or what?” Sally asked. She wasn’t as big of a drinker as Frank or Al; she was a slow sipper.

  Frank grabbed the pitcher and pulled it closer to him. “Don’t be taking Al’s and my beer if you’re not even going to drink it. That’s alcohol abuse, and we don’t appreciate it, do we, Al?”

  The ghost only shrugged. He was no longer wearing the linen clothing he’d worn in Miami. Right now, he had a blue shirt on that said Y’all Need Jesus and a pair of flip-flops. He’d taken to not wearing any pants or shorts because he liked the breeze.

  “You’re lucky I can’t see your tiny gonads,” Sally had told him.

  “You’re lucky I’m a ghost, or else you wouldn’t be able to see anything else. That’s how big they are,” he’d responded.

  Sally had acted like she was going to hit him, and Al shrank away. For someone who had nearly killed Frank, he was scared to death of the lady fairy.

  Frank stood up from the table and walked to the bowling balls. He found his ball, picked it up, and was just about to bowl when Sally spoke.

  “I’m hearing some weird stuff from the west.”

  Frank’s ball went wild, veering to the right and going into the gutter. He clamped his teeth down and turned around. “Ye got to be kiddin’ me. Close yer trap!”

  Sally smiled and looked at the scoreboard. “While I don’t need to distract you to win, Frank, playing like this certainly isn’t going to help your chances.”

  Frank ignored her, marched over to the balls, and waited for his to return.

  Al spoke up. “Whatcha hearing?”

  Frank reached down for his ball. “It doesn’t matter, and I don’t want to hear it,” he grumbled.

  He walked over to the lane and waited, figuring Sally was going to try to make him mess up again. She was quiet, so he pulled his ball back and let it fly.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” he yelled. The ball had veered right and gone into the gutter again. He whipped around and glared at the two Mythers. “We’re not talking about that stuff anymore. Ye hear me? No more.”

  He marched over to the table, took his beer, and then downed the remainder of it. He slammed the glass onto the table and sat down. “Ye know what ye were doing,” he growled, glaring at Sally.

  The fairy only smiled in return. “You should be able to bowl even with distractions if you’re as good as you think you are.”

  Al turned toward Sally. “What are you hearing? Frank and I live in a bubble. We don’t hear anything but ocean waves and pins falling, although less of that today.”

  Sally’s face grew serious. “There’s something happening to the Veil in the Midwest. I haven’t heard a lot because our crew of people pretty much fell apart after Miami, but it’s something different than what usually happens.”

  “And what usually happens?” Al asked. “All I know is the spells that brought me over.”

  Sally shrugged. “There are different things. I sorta fell through a hole in it, but I’ve heard that there is a machine that can help open it, too. There are a bunch of ways, but this time, humans aren’t involved.”

  Al placed his beer on the table. “Who is then?”

  “Enough,” Frank exclaimed sharply. “I don’t want to talk about this stuff. I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ve done my part in helping these humans, and all I’ve gotten is pain and near-death experiences. If ye all want to talk about it, do it on ye own time. Have a meetup and ye two can talk about it until ye jaws fall off, but I want nothing to do with it.”

  Sally raised an eyebrow as she slowly turned her head toward him. She remained quiet.

  Frank felt slightly embarrassed at his outburst, but he meant it. “Look at Miami. It’s a ghost town. I nearly died there. I don’t care anymore what happens with the Veil. I just want to live me life bowling, drinking beer, and enjoying the beach. What is so bad about that?”

  “What about Claire?” Al asked. “She’s still involved, isn’t she?”

  “We all make our choices in life,” Frank responded. “She’s made hers. She wants to be involved trying to save this planet, then so be it. I won’t stop her, but it doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

  Al’s beer rose from the table, although he didn’t put it to his lips. “And if she gets hurt?”

  Frank stood and looked at the bowling lane. “Then that’s her choice. Not mine.” He shook his head. “I don’t feel like playing anymore. Ye two have fun. I’ll see ye when you get home, Al.”

  Al opened the door to their apartment and walked inside. He turned the lock once the door was closed and looked into the living room.

  Frank had a twenty-four pack of Budweiser sitting on the couch next to him, with one opened and on his lap.

  Al knew Frank wasn’t in a good mood to be drinking that type of beer. He referred to it as swill, and only drank it when he was pissed.

  Al walked to the couch and sat down on the other side of the beer. “Mind if I have one?”

  Frank shook his head.

  Al grabbed a beer and popped it open, taking a sip and staring at the television. Frank had grown obsessed with ghost television shows since they moved in here. They’d only been living in this place for a week, but if Frank was inside and not sleeping, he had some kind of ghost hunter program on.

  Those witches had done a number on him, for sure.

  Al was quiet for a few minutes, just watching the nonsense on TV. Frank didn’t even look at him. He grabbed a fresh beer when he was finished and discarded the empty on the floor.
>
  Al finally ventured a question. “That really upset you? What Sally was talking about?”

  “Yeah, it did,” Frank mumbled. “She knows I don’t want to talk about the Veil or the war or anything else, but she keeps bringing it up.”

  Al took a sip before responding. “She hardly ever brings it up, Frank. In time we’ve been living here, I don’t think she’s talked about it at all.”

  Frank’s jaw flexed involuntarily. “Whatever.”

  “She thinks it’s important, and I’m inclined to agree with her right now.”

  Frank hit mute on the remote, and the television went silent. “Let me reiterate what ye don’t seem to be understanding. I don’t want to talk about it. Under any circumstances. Do ye see the Veil opening in this room right now?” Frank leaned forward and looked around the room. “Nope. Nothing. So until the Veil’s opening here, in front of me, me green ass just wants to watch TV. Got it?”

  He fell back on the couch and turned the sound back on.

  “Frank, I can pick up some Midol if it’s that time of the month,” Al quipped.

  “Hardy-har-har.”

  Al took another sip of his beer. Some guy on the TV was walking through a ‘haunted’ house and talking about readings on some kind of meter. “What do you know about the gods, Frank?”

  “Zeus and them?” he responded,

  Al nodded. “Yeah. Zeus, Hades, Poseidon.”

  “What did I just say, ye stupid ghost?” Frank shot back. “I don’t want to talk about ‘em. We should have killed that other witch and been done with ye.”

  “Just hear me out,” Al continued. “Do you know them?”

  Frank didn’t glance over as he spoke, but he wasn’t yelling at Al to shut up either. “I’ve met Zeus a few times. Never seen Hades and don’t want to. Poseidon lives in the ocean, and I’m not a sailor.”

  “Well, I know Hades well,” Al told him. “He’s the one that ran the shop where I worked, the ghosts and all. The gods, they play like they’re nice guys and gals, but they aren’t, not by a long shot.”

  Frank gestured with his remote toward the TV. “What does that have to do with my television show?”

  “Not a lot,” Al admitted. “But based on what Sally told me, that’s what I think is happening. I think the gods are maybe taking notice of all this finally, and maybe wanting to come over.”

  Frank downed the rest of his beer and then belched. “That’s what I think of the gods. They didn’t run things over there, and they don’t run things over here neither.”

  Al looked at the leprechaun. “They didn’t run things over there?”

  Frank shrugged. “Ah, maybe for ye ghosts they did, but not for the leprechauns. They didn’t have any say over us.”

  Al sighed. “You just didn’t know what power they had over you, but trust me, those gods run everything. You have the greater gods and the lesser ones, and every single one of them had their hands in everything that happened on the other side of the Veil. Trust me on that.”

  “I trust ye like I trust my arsehole after eating Taco Bell,” Frank retorted. “Either way, they can come or stay, so long as they leave me out of it.”

  Al took a long sip of his beer. When he was finished, he stared at the ghost show and said simply, “I don’t think they’ll be leaving any of us out of it.”

  Chapter Six

  Claire looked around the classroom and knew that everyone had seen the videos. She’d done exactly what she’d told Jack she was going to do: gotten on a bike and ridden down to the library to use their Internet. Living at home for two weeks had been a real drag, especially after being at a university that allowed her nearly everything.

  Plus, talking with her parents hadn’t been easy. Claire wasn’t able to tell them anything besides that she went to class and learned. She couldn’t even tell them what she was learning, let alone anything about the missions or that her classmate was actually becoming a witch.

  Which was weird, to say the least.

  And kind of cool.

  Now, though, the class felt abuzz. Everyone was whispering inside their units. Claire sat in the middle of Jack and Marissa. Jack kept glancing down to where Samantha was sitting. He still hadn’t given up hope of making something work between them. Claire kind of hoped he could, but he’d have to change his approach for sure. Samantha wasn’t into the cocky, bad-boy routine.

  Marissa leaned over and whispered. “I learned a new spell. I’m going to use it on Jack later.”

  None of the other students knew Marissa possessed the Book of Shadows, or that she was learning how to use it. Dean Pritcham had okayed the continuation, as pretty much everyone thought it would be necessary for the coming battles. The powers that be just didn’t want everyone knowing about it.

  Dr. Byron turned around from his desk and looked at the class. “I hope your summer break treated you well.”

  “Not long enough!” Jack shouted, getting a few chuckles from the class.

  “Believe me, Mr. Teams,” Dr. Byron responded. “A thousand summer breaks would not be long enough away from you. However, as always, I must soldier on in my constant battle to educate and civilize you.”

  He stepped closer to the rows of seats. “Last year was admittedly odd for most of the class. The Veil and those who serve its continual tearing didn’t seem to care that we were trying to learn, and so much of the time, some of our classmates were out doing the work of angels. The rest of us continued learning, and so that puts them ahead in our educational travels. However, there’s been silence on the Veil front recently, and hopefully, that means we all can learn as much as we can during this summer semester.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow, finally no smile across his face. “Umm, Dr. Byron, did you live under a rock the past two weeks?”

  No one looked back at him because the entire class knew what he was talking about—the video. There had been more showing up online, though the last one Claire had seen focused on FBI agents actively keeping people out of the area.

  The major news organizations still weren’t reporting on it, though. The eyes of the nation and the world were still on Miami. Mirages in the sky didn’t compare to dead souls whipping around a deserted metropolis.

  “While I may not be as rich as the Hiltons,” Dr. Byron responded, “I do not consider my house to be a rock. Why do you insist on interrupting, Mr. Teams?”

  Jack raised his hands in protest. “Not trying to interrupt this time. For real. But the videos. You have to have seen them?”

  Dr. Byron shoved his own hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. “I know what you’re talking about, yes. I also know that I work for the FBI, and the FBI sponsors this university, and there has been no mention of any Veil activity in the Midwest.”

  “Did you watch the videos, though?” Jack asked.

  Dr. Byron nodded. “I did.”

  “Well.” Jack paused briefly. “What did you think?”

  “I think that the northern lights have caused a rumor mill for decades,” Dr. Byron answered. “I think that with modern technology, any number of images can be manipulated to make people think almost anything. I think, also, that to focus on unproven and unverified phenomena could derail our class. May I pose a question to you, Mr. Teams?”

  Jack had put his hands down and now leaned back in his chair. He smiled. “Sure. I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking my opinion on the subject,” he replied smugly.

  “Have you, or anyone else you know, been asked to do anything about those videos, or the things they purport to show?”

  Jack opened his mouth to say something smart, but clearly realized he didn’t have anything.

  Dr. Byron smiled. “Has the proverbial cat got your tongue, Mr. Teams?”

  Checkmate, Claire thought. Plus, he’s right. We’re all obsessed with those videos, but what does it have to do with anything until we’re told to act on it?

  Dr. Byron addressed the rest of the class. “Since Mr. Teams sud
denly lost his ability to speak, we shall continue onward. Who can tell me what this class is about?”

  Samantha spoke from the front. She’d been placed in a unit last semester, but she was still sitting in the front row. Claire didn’t know if the girl was some kind of goody-two-shoes or what, only that it was a bit odd she didn’t sit with her unit.

  “Myths from antiquity,” she answered.

  “And what is antiquity?” Dr. Byron asked.

  “The ancient past,” Samantha answered.

  “Great ‘dictionary-dot-com’ answer,” Dr. Byron quipped. He looked up to the rest of the class. “For our purposes, antiquity will mean Ancient Greece. We’re going to be talking about the Titans and the gods, both of which I hope we never have to meet on the field of battle.”

  “Why not?” Claire asked. She didn’t know a thing about Greek gods.

  Byron smiled. “Ms. Hinterland, what do you know of antiquity?”

  Claire grinned. “It was an old antique shop in my town. They sold poorly-made furniture for outrageous prices.”

  The students chuckled, and she even got a slight rise out of the professor.

  “Well played, Ms. Hinterland. Unfortunately, public education isn’t everything we hope it would be, and your teachers failed you. Or, more likely, you failed them and didn’t pay attention in class.”

  Dr. Byron looked at the floor and started his usual pacing. “There have been a tremendous number of words written about the Titans and their offspring, but given that Mr. Teams is illiterate, I shall not make you all read them.”

  Claire cracked a grin, and the rest of the class laughed. Jack even smiled slightly at the jab.

  Dr. Byron continued. “We’re not going to dig too much into the history of these deities. More, we need to focus on what they’re capable of, what they might want, and how we would attack them. However, a brief history is necessary.”

  Bryon reached the end of the room and turned around, continuing his slow walk. “First, this group of people is incestuous. They all have relations with their brothers, sisters, even their mothers and fathers.” He shrugged. “Perhaps their godly bloodline allows them to breed without the genetic repercussions us mere mortals would be faced with. Either way, I’d advise you not to think about it too much, or you will probably have nightmares. The Titans originated from two beings. One Titan in particular, Cronus, killed his parents.”

 

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