Ah, a new school year. A chance for kids and teenagers to learn, grow, and experience the wonders of sex…………… erm……… spells. Sexy spells.
Or, Andre Ravelon thought dryly, for most of them to die. Horrible, screaming deaths. Or is that a scene from that movie about Baby Jebus?
As the Headmaster and leader of not only this Academy, but of all thirteen AG schools, plus the worldwide secret society that ran them pondered this, weak and weary- or, really, more like wary- students began to file in, their names and ages checked by his secretary, Bella. As they took their seats, each was given a once-over by Clair DuMort, Head of Security. The vampire was an imposing woman, six feet tall and covered and weapons. She could blow this place right up , Ravelon realised, before sniggering a bit at his own humor.
Claire glanced over at her boss. "Trouble, Andre?" the tall blond asked, scanning the gym for threats. But before Ravelon could respond she found one. An insane, Korean one.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!", screamed said threat. Claire simply sighed, and unclipped her walkie-talkie. "Security, we have a Code Moloch. Threat Level: Annoying."
Within moments, security had arrived, tackling Moloch to the ground and offering him cookies and explosives if he was a good boy. The Mad God gleefully accepted, and Ravelon hoped that he'd forget, like the ten thousand times this bribe'd worked. He had the explosives ready, of course, but they were reserved for a desperate last stand and when he wanted to be kinky. Either way, they were never used, since Ravelon was forever alone. Besides the thing with Lilly.
The Headmaster gave the room one more sweeping look. The older students, knowing the significance of this gaze, shut up, but the first-years kept blabbering, until Andre raised his hand. Skreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
The horrible, screeching sound filled the room sucking out all conversation. The students, looking horrified, turned forward, each looking Andre full in the face.
The Headmaster smiled faintly, and coughed quietly. "Thank you. For being here, but also for shutting up. Mostly for shutting up. Now then," he said, shuffling some papers. They didn't actually have much of importance on them, but it made him look sophisticated. "Welcome to the Academy. For whatever reason, you've chosen to come here. Whoopie. I'm so damn excited. Whatever. Now then, I hate speeches, so here's the school rules: Don't kill each other. You can fight, but if someone's body, mind, or soul is damaged, I'll turn you into a banana. Don't steal from other students, or the school. And for God's sake, don't steal any small gold statues that look like hay bales. Mr. Ulia, if you persist in flipping me off I will have to remove your limbs."
In the back row, Josh Ulia lowered his hands, but not the fingers. What Ravelon couldn't see, couldn't prompt him to maim students.
Finished with his speech, Andre leaned back, suddenly very tired. "Alright. All of you, come up to Miss DuMort for your room arrangements. Class schedules will be distributed tomorrow morning. Now go. Do whatever the fuck it is that kids do. Just don't get pregnant with a demon baby."
Sighing, Andre sanutered out of the auditorium, hoping that he could type up 300 class schedules by tomorrow.
Alone in a dark room, a man sat. His chair was comfortable, his empire secure. There was only one thorn in his side to be dealt with before he was truly happy. And that thorn would be surgically removed soon.
There was a knock on the door, prompting the man to glance up from his reading. "Come in, come in." he called, and the door swung open, allowing the barest chink of sunlight to peek through before the visitor stepped through and cloed it, blocking out the light of the day-star.
"Master. I have news. Good news.," the woman gasped, kneeling before him. Her voice shook with excitement, and a predatory grin stretched across her Middle-Eastern features.
The man smiled too, knowing what this good news might be. Only Andre Ravelon's imminent death was that good of news. But, he had to humor his wife. "Yes, Maria? What might it be?"
From the floor, Maria gasped "Lord Joshua…… we've found the headquarters of the Almost Gods. I have a strike team deployed. We could hit them now, take out Ravelon……"
But before she could finish her sentence, Joshua interrupted his wife. "No, dearest. This is between myself and Andre. No others need be harmed, least of all children. Go. Set a trap for Andre. I trust you."
Maria nodded, and left the room. Joshua knew that she was up to the task. Who was better at trapping men than a prostitute, even a former one like the lovely Ms. Magdalene?
Joshua turned back to his desk, picking up The Object, out of sheer force of habit. The Vampire King of Jerusalem turned the long, thin piece of metal over and over in his fingers, feeling its comfortable weight, his superhuman nose detecting the smells that came from it; iron and lead, sweat and blood, the scents of a different millennium.
Joshua stood, still holding The Object. If he were to have to attack the Academy, he wanted to have an understanding with Vladimir. The Drakul did not take kindly to intrusion into his territory. Joshua tucked the nail into his suit pocket and left the room, tugging the cuffs of his shirt over his wrists, to hide the round holes there.
Soon, this would all be over, and the last fifteen years of his life wouldn't be for naught.
