Britta Needs Brains (Undead Academy Book 1)

by Nisa Ryan

  Britta Needs Brains

  Undead Academy Book 1

  Nisa Ryan & Harumi Giru

  Britta Needs Brains © 2019 by Nisa Ryan & Harumi Giru.

  All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover | Fantasia Cover Designs

  Zombie Girl Image

  ID 112002642 © Alexandra Petruk | Dreamstime.com

  Edited by the author, please forgive any mistakes. I’m sorry.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No ghouls, the dead, or undead were harmed in the writing of this book.

  Nisa Ryan

  Visit my website at www.NisaRyan.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: Nov. 2019

  Dreaming Lily Publications

  ISBN: 9781704899602

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  My stomach growled.

  I was hungry again. I could swear I’d eaten just an hour ago, but, ever since the change, I was hungry pretty much all the time. The Professor said that it was normal, that I’d always feel hungry until I got used to things. He said stress would make me hungrier. Stress such as the math test I was getting ready to take.

  Funny, I was studying for an entirely different test just a few weeks ago with my best friend.

  Correction, my ex-best friend.

  Right around the time, I’d finished gulping down the pink and grey goo is when my mom and hers had walked in and found me, blood spilling over my chin and soaking the front of my dress. Casey’s brains were all over my fingers and lips. Shit. How was I supposed to know I’d wake up from the fever with a craving for brains? How the hell was I supposed to know to warn my friends and family that they should probably avoid me like the plague until I’d completed my federally mandated rehabilitation period?

  So here I was, almost a month later, at Undead Academy. I was hungry again, and I was going to fail my first math class. Fantastic.

  My parents were going to be so mad. I mean, not as mad as when I ate Casey, but they were still going to be pretty damn pissed. Assuming they came to visit me at all.

  The Professor said to expect that to happen too. It was pretty rare that any of our families came to see us once we’d been enrolled in the academy. The kid sitting next to me was a vampire and hot as hell, but even his parents never came to see him. Ever since he tried to bite his girlfriend, they sort of stopped coming around.

  I stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of me, my fingers wrapped around my pencil. I had managed to barely write my name when I’d started doodling on the side of the page. Apparently, zombies had problems with their attention span and – Pay attention, Britta. You can do this; math isn’t your worse subject after all - that would be geography because why the heck should I know where Uzbekistan is? Like I was ever going to go there. I sat there with eyes glazed over, staring out the window and wondering if life would ever be the same and wondering if checking of ‘C’ for every answer was a legitimate strategy for passing exams. I’d do anything for the fire alarm to go off so I could get one more day of study in.

  And then it happened.

  The alarms blared, and the door to the room flew open as a student ran in, his pointed ears tufted with red fur, and began to yell, “Fire!” at the top of his lungs.

  “Holy crap, don’t tell me I’m psychic now too?” I muttered under my breath as the professor ushered us from the classroom, down the hall, around a bend, and then marched us out the front door.

  A fog of smoke rolled across the ground as we stepped onto the pathway and walked down the entry to the lean against the gate that surrounded the school. It was more like a compound really - meant to keep us inside and safe and the humans outside. Or maybe it was the other way around? It didn’t matter, that’s what they told us it was for. I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to spin around, “Hey there, new girl, good work.”

  It was Zane Sanchez, one of the cutest guys in the school. Like me he was a Sophomore, but unlike me, he was cool and quiet.

  An air of confidence surrounded him, and the fact that he could turn into a bat just made him extra awesome. He was a real loner, often lurking in the corners of the classrooms or slinking around the lockers. The other students seemed to fear him, and when he caught their eye, they’d look away. To have him here, talking to a nobody like me, just wow.

  I blinked and chewed at my lower lip, unsure how to respond, “I have – uh – no idea what you’re talking about,” I stuttered out, “But, hmm, thank you, I guess?” and tried to smile. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue while mine held a film of white over them ever since I was zombified. I continued to admire his eyes and his smile as he smirked and tapped a finger against the side of his head, “You don’t know, but I do. You wished for fire, right?” he asked.

  I nodded and then quickly shook my head, eyes wide, “No. No, I didn’t do this. I swear!”

  He nodded, “Chill, girl, I know. I did it,” he said with a grin.

  I cocked my head to one side. But how? I wondered. Zane smiled again and tapped his head, “You might not be psychic, but I am... well, the correct term is that I used telekinesis to set the alarm off, but yeah, I read your thoughts. I promise I don’t eavesdrop all the time. You just looked really stressed over there by yourself next to the window. I thought you were going to break your pencil with how tightly you were holding it,” he let out a chuckle, and I practically melted while my stomach flipped.

  We’d never really talked much before, but then, I’d only been here a few days. After my parents dropped me off and I was escorted to my assigned room, I’d seen him standing near the stairway banister a few times. Whenever I passed by, he’d offered a reassuring smile. It was nice to know he wasn’t just trying to be nice and actually wanted to talk to me. I could use a friend or a boyfriend. I quickly smashed that thought away.

  I held out a hand, “Britney Peters, but it’s just Britta,” I introduced myself officially. He glanced down at my proffered hand. The skin was green, and my nails had turned yellow with black shadows along the nail beds, I pulled my hand back, cradling it against my chest and shook my head, “Sorry, I uh...” I stuttered and turned away.

  Zane reached out and gently took my hand and his, shaking it gently, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t help what you are any more than I can help what I am. You can’t stop craving brains any more than I can stop craving blood...it is brains, right? Zombie not ghoul, right?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  I nodded. Yes, I was a zombie. Not a ghoul. A zombie craved brains and only brains while a ghoul was intent on eating anything living or dead, and they weren’t picky - any part of the body would do. On top of that, they were well known for having terrible appetites. I thought my cravings were bad, but the Professor told me that after a couple of weeks, I’d adapt, and my hunger pangs would settle down. But ghouls, they never adapted. They were always ravenous, and they basically lost all ability to reason, giving in solely
to their base cravings. Though, I’d been warned that if a zombie waited too long to eat, they could devolve into a ghoul.

  “I’m Zane Sanchez,” he said with a grin. He was so cute. His pitch-black hair hung over one of those crystal blue eyes in a way that made him seem even more mysterious, and his pale skin was flawless in a way that made me jealous. I always saw in books and movies, that vampires were supposed to be perfect. Like, Hollywood gorgeous. But Zane was staggeringly handsome, and I wanted nothing more than to press my cold dead lips to his and hope the friction would warm us both up. I want to say that my body grew warm and that my cheeks blushed, but no, I’ve no blood to heat up with desire. I’m dead. I couldn’t even enjoy the feeling of my heart fluttering in my chest because my heart hadn’t beat since I succumbed to the sickness.

  Instead, my stomach flip-flopped - it was about the only thing I could feel now - and I thought, damn I’d love to devour him right here right now. I bet he’d taste amazing.

  I saw a subtle frown pass over Zane’s face as he took a small step back. Oh, shit. Did he hear my thoughts...is he listening now...oh my god, this is so embarrassing! I practically screamed at myself and looked away again, wrapping my arms around my waist I turned to watch as the Professor gathered all the students together as the other teachers began to search the building for the source of the fire.

  The Principle, Ms. Walker, stood off the side with her perfectly coifed hair and tailored suit a stark contrast to her equine lower half, as a centaur the Principle wore specially made clothes to suit her anatomy.

  “So,” Zane began slowly, “You wanna get out of here?” he asked, running a hand through his hair and over the back of his neck. My stomach quivered, and my mouth began to water. Shit, was I hungry or horny? I couldn’t tell anymore. I nodded my head in agreement, causing my bob of hair to bounce against my jawline. My hair was white with grey ends, and a few weeks ago, I would have thought that was gross. I looked like an old lady, but there are a lot of things about me that I would have considered gross just a month ago.

  For instance. My skin used to be a nice shade of olive, and now it was more like a nice shade of pickle. And my eyes had gone from bright green to the color of pond scum. I guess it wasn’t so bad, but the smell of death that always seemed to cling round me like bad perfume was annoying. No one here seemed to care, unlike my parents, who kept a Febreze bottle on them at all times up until the day I left.

  When we left to the academy, and it was a two days drive and they kept all the windows rolled down even when it meant that mom and dad had to bundle up in extra layers of clothes to stay warm.

  Zane grinned and took my hand. I was grateful to find that his fingers were just as cold as mine. I guess there was one good thing about attending Undead Academy; everyone else was just as gross as I was.

  The other students stood leaning against the tall wrought-iron fence that surrounded the school as we snuck through them and behind the Professors’ back, other than the usual zombies like myself and a couple of vampires like Zane there were also werewolves, werecats, a couple of mermaids confined to wheelchairs who liked to hang out at the fountain in the school courtyard for obvious reasons, as well as various types of ghosts. The most unusual one was a specter; unlike a normal ghost, she could possess people and was quickly banned from doing so after a certain incident...or at least that’s what the rumors said. And we had a foreign exchange student, a kitsune from Japan. She mostly kept to herself, but occasionally she would share a quiet smile with me, and I thought we could maybe be friends if I got the guts actually to speak to her. She was so exotic compared to me. Maybe today I would finally ask to sit with her, I was pretty sure she was in my Legends and Lore class.

  Zane guided me along the fence line until we came to a quiet area among a copse of trees. “I found this yesterday,” he said as he knelt and showed me an opening in the fence where the edges curled up and away from the ground. It was just big enough that we could shimmy beneath it with some effort. My eyes went wide as I bent over to inspect it, there were clumps of reddish-brown fur stuck to the sharp edges.

  Zane caught my eyes and smiled, “You know how Ms. Walker and the Professor have been freaking out about the supposed werewolf attacks in the town nearby?” he asked.

  I shook my head; I hadn’t heard about that, but it didn’t surprise me. Even in my hometown, we had stories about the local beasties living their lives hidden among normal humans. But sometimes, they went a little crazy and reverted to their monstrous storybook states. I used to be one of those normal humans that liked to pretend monsters didn’t exist until the change and a whole new world opened up to me...I’m pretty sure my parents are still in denial though.

  “Oh, sorry, you’re still new here. So, anyway, supposedly, a werewolf has been haunting the local town. Nothing serious, just a few jump-scares, stalking kids on bikes in the dark, looking into hot girls’ windows,” he smirked, “You know, things like that.”

  Crossing my arms, I said, “Really, now?” and eyed him with disbelief. Those sounded exactly like the type of things you would hear your typical girl-crazy boy doing, or a paranormal beastie hungry for human flesh.

  “So, a while back, before you probably even changed, there was an actual attack, like, people died,” he stressed and leaned in towards me, lowering his voice he glanced from left to right as if making sure no one was listening in on us. Reaching up, he placed a hand on my shoulders, lowering me to my knees next to him, “And they’d been chewed on,” he whispered.

  His face was so close to mine. I could feel his warm breath on my neck and cheek, he smelt so good. I bet he’d taste just as amazing as he smelled right now. I shook that thought away; I really didn’t need to be thinking with my stomach, use your brains girl...okay, so that just made me hungrier.... what in the actual fuck. Could I not think of anything else?

  Zane grinned again as he curled his fingers around the edge of the fence and pulled it up, making the opening big enough that we could crawl under,

  “So, you wanna sneak into town and do a little of our own scaring?” he asked, “It’s almost Samhain, all-hallows eve, perfect timing for it,” he laughed. Samhain, I had learned, was the Celtic holiday that was later transformed into the modern Halloween. It was all fun and games for normal humans, but for those humans of a particular persuasion, i.e., witches, along with the monsters, it was a special celebration of the ancestors both dead and undead. People expected things to go bump in the night this time of year. It sounded like awesome fun. But still, it was against the rules, and he just said that the townspeople were worried about a werewolf has gone rogue. He couldn’t be serious. Plus, the Professor would be pissed and the Principle? Well, I had only met her once, and that more than enough to scare me straight. Just thinking of meeting with her again sent shivers down my spine and made my stomach shrink.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “And now you’re a zombie, Ms. Peters, a beautiful testament to the fleeting wings of life. The ending can come so suddenly,” the Principle intoned as if she was reciting a eulogy. And maybe she was. After all, this was Undead Academy, and I was now a member of the student undead.

  I had no idea how I became a zombie. My parents were as surprised as I was.

  I remembered feeling a little sick and having a headache. I finished my usual homework for school and then crawled into bed. I woke up the next morning with a raging fever so mom told me to stay home and get some rest, which I did. Bed-ridden for four days, I couldn’t keep anything down, and my head felt like my brain was trying to break out of my skull. The hospital couldn’t find anything wrong with me. After days of being poked and prodded and MRI scans, we were told it was a virus. It had to run its course. And then, the day after I got home from the hospital, my best-friend Casey came over after school with a crap-ton of my homework in hand. I wasn’t happy to see the assignments piled up but I was so glad to see her. She looked so sweet, literally, and the next thing I knew, she was screaming, and I was eating
.

  “It happens like that sometimes,” Ms. Walker and the Professor had explained to my parents. My dad was flabbergasted, “What? Turning into an undead fiend just... happens? Just like that?” he asked, hands clasped so tight together his knuckles were white. Ms. Walker nodded, “While we don’t enjoy using the terms ‘undead fiend’ yes, sometimes it just happens.”

  The Principle stood behind a wide desk of polished mahogany, the walls were decorated with aged images of prior school principles as well as various famous figures of the monster and undead world. Picture of Count Dracula, Dr. Frankenstein with his monsters, a werewolf snarling over a cup of tea while wearing a monocle. There were bookshelves filled with row after row of books on mythology, history of the undead, various tomes that were so old the spines had fallen away, and various items of macabre origin rested on many of the shelves as well as decorating her desk.

  While my parents and the Principle continued to discuss the school policies, I stared at a skeletal cat resting on the edge of the desk. Tilting my head to one side, I stretched out a finger to touch it when the cat hissed, arching its back, and ran away with a clatter of bones. I yanked my hand back and looked around as if I hadn’t done anything.

  Ms. Walker smirked, “That is Salem, and he doesn’t like to be touched, I’d ask you to please refrain from touching anything in my office. It could have potentially deadly consequences, even for the already undead,” she said, leveling her steely gaze at me.

  Her face was severe, with pitch-black hair tied up in a bun on the top of her head and bright red lipstick that looked all the brighter for her deathly pale white skin. Wearing a black Victorian-style double-breast vest with a ruffled collar pulled up high around her neck, she looked like a villain you’d see in a b-rate horror movie which was fitting, I guess.