The School of the Undead

by Michael Woods

  “I trust you of course, but the big man insists on paperwork. Right, I think that’s all you need. Oh, and as I said: if nothing comes of the investigation, then that’s just the way it is. Must dash.”

  With that, the deputy turned abruptly and hurried up the steps that led to the entrance of the school, before quickly disappearing inside the building.

  ***

  Brenden hid under the thin sheet that covered his bed. For what seemed to him a near eternity, he remained there, stock still, while trying to hold together the tumult of emotions that revolved around his growing despair. At the same time, he both wanted the terrible swell of feeling to disappear so that the pain would leave him and for it to grow into an irresistible force that would overtake and swallow him. The force, though it ebbed and flowed, never grew strong enough to overtake him or weak enough to let him go. Instead, it just maintained a sharp enough cutting pain in his gut to keep him pinned silent and still under the cover of the sheet in his unlit room.

  “This will not do, Brenden,” came the sound of a familiar voice.

  Brenden did not respond and only acted to curl his body into a tighter ball.

  “Alright now, my boy,” said the voice again in a soft tone, allowing Brenden to realise that Ms Halford had now entered his room. “You can stay there for a little while, but we have many things, very important things, to teach you here at the school; I would not want you to miss them. Take what time you need to get ready and I’ll be waiting for you outside classroom 34.”

  Gently, Ms Halford retreated from the room, using an old trick another spirit had taught her long ago to turn on the light just before she left. As soon as the pearl bulb flared into life, the emotions that had held Brenden’s body in place finally gave way; with their release, he burst into tears. He let them flow and let himself choke out sobs without caring if anyone outside in the corridor could hear him. Eventually, he found that he could not cry anymore and without too much thought, he first sat up in his bed, then dried his eyes before making his way outside.

  Brenden slowly made his way to the classroom and just as she had said, Ms Halford was waiting outside.

  “Now, Brenden, you do look a bit of a mess. Have you got a handkerchief in your pocket? No, well give your eyes a wipe anyway. That’s it. Better give your hair a comb to. No comb? What is it with the young men of this generation? It beggars belief! Well, best just pad it down. Yes, that’s it. Now, tuck your shirt in and we’re ready to go.”

  Brenden clumsily shoved the bottom of the baggy, purple shirt that the school had provided him with into the slightly too large jeans he was wearing.

  Ms Halford pursed her lips a little at the sight of the boy, but decided there was not too much she could do at that moment to smarten him up: it was better to get on with the task at hand.

  “That will have to do. I assume you are wondering what we’re doing here? Well, in the room behind me is your new form class. Our intakes here at the school can vary drastically and we hardly ever know when it is that we will get a new member of the student body. As a result, we’ve found it useful to provide a main class and teacher for each student over their two years, just so there’s at least someone who can keep track of goings on. So, by a play of fate, this class will be yours.”

  Due to the demeanour and tone adopted by Ms Halford, Brenden got the feeling that she was not at all pleased about the fact that this particular form was the one that had been selected for him. However, whatever reasons the ghost had for her disapproval, she kept them to herself. Indeed, she made no further comment and merely indicated with her bluish, transparent hand that Brenden should knock. After a few raps from the boy, the door swung back to reveal a giant figure of a man whose face was hidden in shadow due to the bright fluorescent lights of the classroom behind him.

  “Ah, you must be Brenden,” said the figure. “I’m glad that you’re finally here. Let me introduce myself; my name is Adam and I am to be your form tutor. Of course, you will have other teachers at the school, but I hope that I can be more than that and fulfil my given role as a mentor.”

  Without stepping back to reveal his features, Adam turned his attention to Ms Halford.

  “Thank you, Matilda, for bringing our new student to my class.”

  “You’re most welcome Adam,” said Ms Halford in a positive tone that came across as more than a little forced. “I know you’ll be able to pass on your wisdom to our young man here. Well, I best be getting along then.”

  With his enormous hands, Adam gently ushered Brenden into the classroom without giving him the chance to say farewell to Ms Halford. At another time, Brenden probably would have thought more about this, but he was too concerned with both having to face his new class and come to terms with the gigantic figure of his teacher. Adam continued to guide the young vampire forward until they were standing opposite a line of old wooden tables, behind which sat what looked like three generally well-preserved corpses and someone who Brenden assumed was a vampire, just like himself. Brenden regarded his teacher and was able to see the man’s face clearly for the first time. Brenden instinctively attempted to lurch backwards, but the strength of Adam’s hand, still placed in the middle of the boy’s back prevented him from moving at all. Though Brenden knew that he was in a school for the undead, he was unprepared for the sight of Adam, with his taut yellow skin, cloudy yellow eyes and prominent, pearly white teeth. The boy froze and for a moment did not take in a word Adam said. All he managed to perceive was that as his teacher spoke, he could see all the muscles of the man’s face moving below his thin skin.

  Adam gave Brenden a squeeze on the shoulder, enabling the boy to compose himself once more and turn away from the disturbing visage of his teacher. So horrified was the boy that for the rest of the time he was in the class that day, he tried to make sure that he did not catch a glimpse again of the teacher, partly as he was concerned that he could offend the man, but also because he was concerned that he would find the sight of the man’s face as disturbing as he thought it had been.

  “Well, my friends, we have our new student. This young man here is Brenden and fate has led him to our school, enabling him to avoid the fate of suffering the prejudice of the living against that which they do not even try to understand.”

  Adam stopped himself from continuing on the topic and gave himself a moment for the words that were at the forefront of his mind to cease their clambering calls to be spoken out loud. He gave Brenden’s shoulder another squeeze and then returned to the boy’s introduction to the class.

  “David, perhaps you would like to start by telling us a little about yourself.”

  At this, the 40-odd-year-old looking man that Brenden presumed to be a vampire stood up; straightened the slightly worn, dark blue suit that he was wearing; brushed back his thin, blonde hair and cleared his throat as if he were about to give a lengthy presentation.

  “Thanks, Adam. Hi Brenden, my name is David Forch. Welcome to the gang. From the looks of things, we’re also already in the same band: I also happen to be a vampire. Not sure how much of a back story were supposed to give here, but let me give you a brief rundown as it’ll come out sooner or later. I don’t know how you came to be here, but I’ve found out that my situation is a bit different from some of the others here.”

  “David,” interrupted Adam gently, “perhaps you can tell Brenden about this later.”

  “Now, come on Adam, might as well get this out the way. Not as if the others have much to say anyway.”

  Though Brenden did not see how Adam reacted to what David had said, he assumed by the way the vampire’s face fell that the teacher had not taken it well. However, Adam relented and waved one of his large pale yellow hands to indicate to David that he should continue.

  “Er, right. Where was I?” said David in what Brenden would come to learn was an unusual moment of discomposure for the man. “Yes, unlike some of the other members of this illustrious establishment, I decided of my own free will to join the co
mmunity of the undead. Yes, that’s right, I decided to come here and it was the right decision too. Only thing was that unlike my usual self, I chose the wrong person to get the job done.

  “I was what you might call one of the ‘Masters of the Universe’; had the money to get myself everything and everyone I wanted, if I wanted them, but there were some things that were just starting to slip away. Not, my actual youth. Who gives a crap about that anymore? Not when you have Botox. And as people say about where you live, it’s not the dump you live in that matters, but the view you can afford. No, I was just thinking about death plain and simple. I hadn’t really put a lot a thought into the issue as I was always much more concerned with the sharp edge of the moment. But then one of my underlings went and died. The guy was seven years younger than me when he snuffed it, some skiing accident or other waste of time, and I just could not help myself looking in the mirror and asking myself; if it could happen to this guy, could it happen to me? For the first time in my career, I took my eye off the ball and I wasn’t performing. So, soon enough I was faced with the prospect of not only death but the idea that there might be others who could try to compete with me for my position.

  “I won’t go into the gritty on how I found out about the vamp who got me here; all I’ll say is what I said before: I had enough money, and the will for that matter, to get anything I wanted. This all worked out fine, but crap, the little guy - after taking his hefty fee - did not tell me that it would take so long for the change to take place. After a couple of days, I was found dead in my apartment - by my cleaner of all people - and sent to be buried. Well, I tell you what, I found out from a bit of sniffing around not long after waking up that the family I had not seen in years had pounced upon my property and that I had nothing left: I was destitute in death.”

  “Perhaps,” said Adam as soon as David gave him a long enough pause to do so, “this would be an opportune moment, David, for you to tell our new friend here about one of the rules of our community, and the reason the vampire that led you here probably did not inform you of the length of time the transition takes.”

  “Well, I will,” replied David with a look of distaste. “But I have to say that I consider it a rule that makes no real sense. You see, Branden, they don’t like the idea that you can sell what you have to the living. According to their rules, you cannot knowingly turn anyone into a vamp - or whatever form of horror you happen to be - even if someone demands that you turn them into one and throws money at you to do so. And you know what the craziest thing is about that? We need to pay our precious, caring institutions - like this school - to supply us with blood, otherwise…”

  “Maybe that’s enough for now, David. Let’s introduce the rest of the class.”

  Despite the apparent lack of deference evidenced by David’s words for the authorities in the undead world, the man responded to the teacher’s words by obediently becoming silent and sitting down. Adam turned his attention to the other three members of the class and gestured for one of the zombies to stand and introduce herself. She did not move to respond right away, but when Adam indicated once more that she should stand up, she hesitantly got up. After getting to her feet, she felt she still needed to do more to compose herself and stalled a little longer by sliding her fingernail free fingers down from the top of the grey bare skin of her head to her peeling white neck.

  “I’m Lilith,” she murmured. “Welcome, Brenden.”

  With the effort of her introduction over, Lilith sunk slowly back down into her seat.

  “Perhaps I better introduce our next student, Brenden. Sitting next to Lilith is Namenkhetamun, who unfortunately does not yet speak English.”

  Brenden looked at Namenkhetamun and quickly realised that he was looking into the alert eyes of an ancient mummy; reminding him, as he did, of the ones he had seen on one of his occasional trips with his father to the British Museum. Despite all what he had seen since arriving at the school, it still struck the boy as a little odd that he had not noticed this before. However, in truth, this was not such a surprise as it was only the deep brown, tight skin on her hands and head that revealed her ancient origins, as she was otherwise wearing a worn Pink Floyd tee-shirt and jeans, obviously provided by the school. As it was clear to her that she was being referred to, even though she could not understand what was being said, she straightened herself and gently placed her hands on the table before her.

  “Namenkhetamun came to our school about two weeks ago, though she actually woke from her long slumber some years ago. By some means that is beyond either her or my knowledge, she ended up in a museum in Birmingham along with a couple of others and came to the attention of the rather reclusive ancient Egyptian community here in Britain, who live just outside Bury St Edmunds. They told me that they found out that of the three who had travelled from Egypt and ended up in Birmingham, only she could be revived. Indeed, it is only those who have retained significant portions of their brain matter who can be revived, through mistakes or other factors involved in the mummification process. With regret that they were unable to revive the other two, they quietly worked to remove Namenkhetamun from her coffin and filled the vacant spot with another ancient body so as to avoid suspicion of a theft from the museum. They also told me that this action apparently later led to a little confusion in the living world as the body they had used to replace Namenkhetamun turned out to be a man, something which contrasted with the inscription on the coffin. Of course, with their rather wicked sense of humour, the Egyptians were delighted with this development.

  “So, Namenkhetamun is actually a little unlike most of the students here. This is not just due to her age, though this does make her exceptional at this moment among our student body. No, I’m talking about the reason why she is here. You see, Brenden, she was quite settled with the other members of her community in Bury St Edmunds, but she decided of her own accord that it would be good for her and the rest of the ancient Egyptians if she were to learn English and expand her knowledge about the modern world. Several months ago, she contacted us through an intermediary and requested to spend some time here so that she could learn, and of course, we happily agreed. We hope that this is just the beginning of something and that in the future, more members of her community will come to spend some time with us; something that has not happened too often in the past as most of the ancients who are revived - and the number of these people is obviously very small - usually go down to live with the others in Bury St Edmunds, where they have their own system of reintroducing those who have woken to their new world.

  “Sitting next to Namenkhetamun is the final student in our class, who has decided to call himself Robert. I think that I also better introduce Robert as while he is a member of the same undead group as Lilith, he unfortunately lost most of his speech capabilities in his process of joining the group. Isn’t that right Robert?”

  The grey figure, who was wearing a fedora to cover up the three gashes along the left side of his head – the very injuries that had rendered him speechless - nodded in agreement.

  “There is hope though that he will, in time, be able to increase his speech abilities. The undead brain, much like that of the living, is an incredible organism that can continue to learn and develop long after an individual has lost their original life. We even have a small team here at the school dedicated to the task of providing therapy to those who need it to recover the abilities they lost in the transition process. Ah, I apologise, Robert, I got a little carried away for a moment there in an area that continues to fascinate me no matter how long I concern myself with it.

  “Robert, here, was a gardener in Leicester before he came to us. He was, unfortunately, attacked by someone who had run out of supplies and who believed he could continue to remain among the living without them. What was even worse for Robert is that he was attacked while working atop a ladder, leading him to fall and cause the injury that has left him silent. It is a tragic story, but everyone has their fair share here.

&
nbsp; “So, that is your class, Brenden. Of course, I am sure you have many questions that you will want to ask about your studies and other issues, but perhaps first you could tell the others a little about yourself?”

  Brenden could feel the cloudy eyes of his teacher upon him as he said these final words and it took more than a little effort for the boy to stop himself from giving in to the natural inclination to meet Adam’s gaze. To prevent himself from looking, he fixed his eyes on the patterned white and blue ceramic tiles of the floor.

  “Not yet, maybe,” said Brenden.

  “Of course, perhaps later when you have got a little more settled in.”

  Chapter 3

  Amanda looked up at the bland reproductions of some abstract art that seemed to be in every chain hotel at which she had ever stayed. For a moment, she wondered why these firms decided that it was such a good idea to fill their rooms with these pictures and supposed that at least they did not offend anyone, nor would they contrast with the forgettable furniture that was in her room and every other room in the building. She pulled a fine example of such furniture, one of the chairs, over to the side of the double bed so that she could inspect the files which she had laid across the still pristine white duvet and purple blanket.

  There were four handwritten files before her, each with an address, a picture and a report on a former Tithonus student. Each report included a relatively detailed account of what the students had done while at the school as well as information on their lives before they had joined the undead and - what was slightly more surprising for Amanda – a slightly patchier outline of the activities of the person after they had left the school. There was also a card attached to the front of each file which featured a collection of numbers, the meaning of which Amanda could not make any headway in understanding.

  The file furthest to her left was that on a man called Johann Milch, an individual who she saw no way of getting in contact with as it seemed that the only detail given dealing with his whereabouts and activities after leaving the school was that he lived somewhere in the vicinity of Radcliff. However, she then noticed that in a slightly scruffier hand - next to the clearly written note about the man’s general location - another pencilled in scribble had been added which claimed the man had been seen living somewhere in a forest on the outskirts of the town.