“I think this is not a hiding spot but a drop box. Wydowna and Miss Flapper communicate by leaving notes in here,” Rochelle explained as she accidentally frayed the small piece of fabric with her sharp nails.
“But why communicate through notes when they can just as easily speak face-to-face?” Robecca wondered.
“There is always a certain amount of risk that comes with meeting in person. They could be overheard or seen together. Plus, they keep very different schedules,” Rochelle explained as Venus bent down and grabbed the piece of paper.
“ ‘There is to be a meeting on Thursday at 12:01 AM behind the thick grove of conifur trees. Watch us carefully,’ ” Venus read aloud.
“Watch us?” Rochelle repeated. “That implies that whoever wrote this letter will also be attending the meeting. Otherwise he or she would have simply said, watch them.”
“Jeepers, what do we think this meeting is about?” Robecca babbled nervously.
“I don’t know, but come tomorrow night at 12:01 AM, we’re going to find out,” Venus answered.
“Come, ghouls, let’s get out of here before she returns,” Rochelle said as she made her way toward the door. “If we rush we can still make it to Home Ick on time.”
After finishing Home Ick and the rest of their classes, the trio grabbed a quick bite in the Creepateria and then headed back to the Chamber of Gore and Lore. And though they were all three relieved to have a lead, they wished they didn’t have to wait over twenty-four hours to follow it.
“Venus, I’ve been thinking about Chewy a great deal lately,” Rochelle said as she climbed into bed.
“I’m glad someone else has finally realized how blooming cool my little plant man is,” Venus said as she gave Chewy a quick splash of water and a wink.
“I think we should send him to Cy’s optometrist. A pair of glasses might help him distinguish food from friend. Or to be more precise, food from Roux and Penny,” Rochelle expounded with a smile, sure that this idea would prove helpful to all involved.
“Rochelle, Rochelle, Rochelle,” Venus repeated dramatically as she put down the watering can and looked over at her pajama-clad friend. “Chewy has gone through approximately eight pairs of glasses in his life, four of which I can confirm were his.”
“Je ne comprends pas. What do you mean, ‘gone through’?” Rochelle asked.
“I think she means he ate them,” Robecca explained, tucking a sour-faced Penny next to her in bed.
The sun had barely risen when the soft rustle of a paper passing beneath the door to the Chamber of Gore and Lore caused Robecca to sit straight up in bed. Instantly, the familiar sensation of being late for something she couldn’t quite remember took hold. Steam pumped from her ears as she jumped out of bed. However, so sleepy was the copper ghoul that she accidentally knocked her mechanical penguin to the floor. And as Penny was crafted from metal the fall was rather noisy, waking up both Rochelle and Venus.
“Plants need sleep,” Venus griped from beneath her straw eye mask.
“You’re not late!” Rochelle called out, her eyes still shut. “S’il ghoul plaît, go back to bed!”
After nearly two semesters of rooming with Robecca, both Rochelle and Venus had become accustomed to her many time deficiencies.
“Jumping Jupiter! I was about to oil myself up and race to class!” Robecca exclaimed as she shook her head and wondered if she would ever have a functioning internal clock.
“Sleep… is… very… important… to… plants.…” Venus hummed, still tucked tightly into bed.
“What’s that?” Robecca said upon seeing a piece of paper on the floor. “Someone slipped us a note.”
“A note!” Venus cried as she popped out of bed. “Notes at Monster High haven’t proven to be a very good thing as of late!”
“Je suis d’accord, I agree,” Rochelle said as she threw back her covers.
Huddled together by the door, Rochelle and Venus watched as Robecca slowly unfolded the crisp piece of paper.
“The tension is driving me complètement timbré! Absolutely crazy! S’il ghoul plaît, just open the note already,” Rochelle instructed Robecca.
“ ‘Dear Frightingales, as previously discussed, we ask that all members wear Clawdeen’s Got Bloodgood T-shirts for Picture Day. And though we very much hoped our headmistress would be home by now, she is not. So let us wear these shirts as a testament to how much we miss her. Sincerely, Draculaura and Frankie, Copresidents of the Frightingale Society.’ ”
“I can’t believe Picture Day is already here,” Venus said as Roux pranced around her feet.
“And we still don’t haven’t the faintest idea where Headmistress Bloodgood is being kept,” Robecca said with steaming nostrils.
“Who knows? Perhaps we’ll find out at tonight’s meeting,” Rochelle added.
“Jeez Louise, you don’t think one of our friend’s parents has something to do with Headmistress Bloodgood’s disappearance, do you?” Robecca asked her friends.
“I don’t know. And it might not just be one of them; it could be all of them. As of now, there’s no way of telling,” Venus replied.
Though the mood was still uneasy at Monster High, the style-conscious ghouls and guys did their utmost to look defrightful on Picture Day. Frankie re-stitched her limbs using a silky silver thread that glistened beautifully in the sunlight. Draculaura slept with a whitener on her teeth so that she would have a crisp smile. Yellow teeth, especially fangs, were a pet peeve of many vampires, but no one more so than Draculaura. She was adamant that yellow did not complement her alabaster skin or pink-and-black hair.
Lagoona used a seaweed mask and salt scrub, leaving her face soft and dewy, as though she’d just walked out of the ocean. Hoodude tightened the strings to his button eyes, essentially giving himself a mini face-lift. Rose and Blanche Van Sangre slept an extra hour, for they believed nothing was better for beauty than slumber. The pumpkin heads greased their jack-o’-lanterns with oil so that they would sparkle in the photos. Cleo wrapped herself in new gold-colored gauze. Toralei combed her fur for an extra twenty minutes. Operetta buffed her rhinestone eyepiece. And Deuce exfoliated the snakes on his Mohawk.
Salem’s most prestigious photographer, ghost CeeCee Thrue, offered to shoot Monster High’s class portraits in light of the dire circumstances in town. And though no one would accuse her of being a particularly softhearted ghoul, she wanted to give the students of Monster High something wonderful to look back on after the normies walled off the town.
Dressed in head-to-toe black leather, and sporting bright red lipstick and dangly gold earrings, CeeCee looked more like a rock star than a photographer, which just so happened to be exactly how she saw herself.
“Hey! You over there!” CeeCee barked while snapping her fingers. “I need a no foam, nonfat latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. And if they don’t have nonfat milk they can mix one part whole milk with two parts water. But only if it’s filtered water. Because I don’t drink tap, got it?”
“Adult entity, I am the acting headmistress of this school, not your personal assistant,” Miss Sue Nami responded as CeeCee began setting up on the front lawn of Monster High.
“I’m not listening to you. But don’t take it personally. I don’t listen to anyone except myself. Oh, and I need that latte stat, pronto, like five minutes ago. Got it? Good. Later,” CeeCee uttered at a rapid-fire pace before turning to assemble her tripod.
Irritated by the fast-talking photographer, Miss Sue Nami stomped off, knocking two zombies and a sea creature out of her way in the process. For if there was one thing Miss Sue Nami didn’t like, it was being told what to do by anyone other than Headmistress Bloodgood.
Pounding up the front steps of the school, the damp woman paused at the sight of Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus encircled by greasy grumbling trolls.
“For the last time, let us pass,” Venus huffed as the trolls shook their heads, sending their dirty locks flying.
“It you three!
We see you! You in big trouble! We tell Scariff Fred!” a troll hollered, his grubby little cheeks softly shaking.
First that ghastly ghost and now troll trouble!” Miss Sue Nami grunted as she approached the swarm of stout beasts surrounding Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus.
“Miss Sue Nami!” Robecca yelped with steam bubbling out of her ears. “Please help us! These trolls won’t listen! And I’m worried that if they don’t back off soon they’ll ruin our special Got Bloodgood T-shirts!”
“Trolls? You work for me. So that means you need to tell me exactly what this is about,” Miss Sue Nami ordered, her hands perched atop her hips.
“They steal from Monster High! Robbers! Bad ghouls!”
“Steal?” Miss Sue Nami repeated back incredulously.
“Yeah, Hairy saw them sneaking out of attic stairwell a couple nights ago,” one of the trolls said while waving his hand in Rochelle’s face.
“I would be more than happy to donate nail brushes and files if you lot are willing to use them,” Rochelle said, cringing at the gross state of the troll’s nails.
“Non-adult entities, is this true? Are you stealing from your own school?”
“Non! Absolument pas!” Rochelle stated seriously, clearly offended by the accusation. “A gargoyle has not been accused of stealing in three centuries! This is complètement absurd!”
“So you were never in the attic stairwell? You’re saying that Hairy is mistaken? That perhaps his thick follicles clouded his vision? Or that he is just a plain old fibber?” Miss Sue Nami questioned the three ghouls.
“Well…” Robecca uttered nervously.
“Yes, we were in the attic stairwell, but we didn’t steal anything,” Venus explained.
“The attic stairwell is off-limits to non-adult entities. So what exactly prompted you three to break rules and risk detention in the no-fungeon?”
Venus paused and pursed her lips as she decided how much to share with Miss Sue Nami. For while the damp dame had proven herself a skeptic of Miss Flapper, Venus didn’t think it smart to create conjecture. She decided it far more sensible to wait until they had a firm grasp on what was happening.
“We were in the stairwell because Penny, Robecca’s pet penguin, ran away,” Venus blurted out.
“What?!” Robecca screamed emotionally, reacting to Venus’s comment before realizing that it was nothing more than a tall tale to cover up their outing. “What… transpired was very stressful for me. I couldn’t find my dear beloved pet for almost… twenty minutes.”
“Which may not sound like a long time, but it certainly felt like a long time,” Rochelle added. “Especially for a ghoul without a functioning internal clock.”
“Very well, then. Trolls, you may let them pass,” Miss Sue Nami grunted. “Non-adult entities, let it be known, if I catch you in the attic stairwell again, you’ll be spending the next semester in the no-fungeon.”
“Yes, of course, Madame Sue Nami,” Rochelle answered guiltily, for if there was one thing she didn’t like it was fibbing.
“Oh, and I don’t like that photographer ghost… not one bit,” Miss Sue Nami added with a particularly grumpy expression.
“Do you think she’s dangereuse?” Rochelle asked as she nervously furrowed her brow.
“No, just irritating. Sort of like a beaver,” Miss Sue Nami griped under her breath.
“A what?” Rochelle inquired curiously.
“You know, those pesky little animals with long teeth, flat tails, and a proclivity for building dams, which cause rivers to overflow,” Miss Sue Nami explained before abruptly stomping off.
CeeCee Thrue began each sitting in the same brusque manner. She eyed the monster up and down, pulled at their clothes, fussed with their hair, and occasionally even removed or applied makeup. Within seconds of seeing a ghoul or guy, she knew what their best angle was, how to light them, whether they should show fangs, and so on. However talented she was, CeeCee was also impatient, self-absorbed, and at times even rude.
“Lose the jacket, look to the left, relax your fin, raise your right eyebrow, smooth your scales, smile less, smile more, freeze,” CeeCee rattled off before snapping a couple of pictures. “Okay, get up! Go! Next!”
“Hello, Ms. Thrue, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m Frankie Stein, copresident of the Frightingale Society and—”
“Sit down, you emerald in the rough. You need to be polished. Stat. Pull back your hair. Wipe off your lip gloss.”
“But—”
“They distract from your greenness, and the only thing better than green is gold. Move two inches to the left. Half an inch to the right.”
“What?”
“Don’t talk. Close your mouth. Smile. Okay, got it. That’s it. Now go!” CeeCee instructed firmly, motioning for the next candidate.
“It sure is the cat’s pajamas to meet a photographer of your caliber, or really of any caliber. You see, when I was disassembled, cameras hadn’t even been invented yet,” Robecca said as she took a seat on the stool.
“Put that copper thing down—”
“Copper thing? Oh, you mean Penny. But she isn’t a copper thing at all, she’s my friend and she absolutely loves having her picture taken. Not that you can tell, since she’s always frowning, but believe me, it’s true.”
“Lose the copper thing. Buff your nose. Tighten the rivet on your right knee. Put your left hand under your chin.”
“What was that? You’re talking so fast that I can barely understand you!” Robecca babbled frantically.
“Right hand on hip, left hand under chin, eyes wide. That’s it. Got it. Next!”
Though it had only been a few minutes, Robecca had already forgotten about Penny. In fact, had she not tripped over the small metal bird while stepping off the stool, she most definitely would have left her behind. And if there was one thing that made Penny’s frown deepen, it was getting left behind.
With Penny again tucked tightly beneath her right arm, Robecca walked over to where Rochelle and Venus were waiting. However, just before she reached her friends she saw a sign with the acronym GHOOL (Get Heels Off of Lawn). Instantly her pistons began pumping as an idea took hold in her mind. What if Asome wasn’t the name of the head of the mysterious society or even the society itself, but an acronym for the society’s name?
“Ghouls! What if A-S-O-M-E is an acronym?” Robecca blurted out as she bounded up to Rochelle and Venus.
“It is, of course, possible,” said Rochelle. “But unless you have an idea what the acronym is, then we don’t really have much to go on.”
“Deary me, and here I thought I had experienced an epiphany!” Robecca said with disappointment.
“More like half an epiphany,” Venus joked. “How was having your portrait taken?”
“CeeCee Thrue might be a celebrated photographer, but she has a terrible bedside manner,” Robecca said while shaking her head. “She’s worse than a porcupine with a balloon.”
“In CeeCee’s defense, perhaps her bedside manner isn’t very good because there isn’t a bed in sight,” Rochelle pointed out.
“Rochelle, Rochelle,” Venus muttered under her breath.
“Yes, Venus, Venus,” Rochelle replied just as CeeCee waved her over.
After eyeing the hard-bodied ghoul, CeeCee picked up the stool and placed it a few feet away.
“No sitting for you. Gargoyles always break my stools. Now relax your shoulders. Polish your cheeks. Come on, ghoul, act alive,” CeeCee barked rapidly.
“I’m afraid I cannot act alive as I am alive. A fact which I thought you of all monsters would know, seeing as you’re a ghost, a non-living creature,” Rochelle replied.
“Put both of your hands over your mouth,” CeeCee instructed the loquacious ghoul.
“Like this?” Rochelle asked, her voice muffled by her thick stone hands.
“Great. Got it. Good-bye.”
“S’il ghoul plaît, Madame Thrue. I cannot have a class photo with my hands across my mouth,”
Rochelle pleaded with the photographer.
“Next!”
“Madame Thrue—”
“Next!”
“The Gargoyle Code of Ethics states that the customer is always correct except of course when he or she is wrong, which does not apply in this scenario. So might I ask you to retake my picture?”
“Next!”
“Very well, then, you have given me no choice but to write a highly unflattering review on Deadslist!”
Later that day, as the ghouls chatted over dinner in the Creepateria, a murmur started in the far corner of the room. And though it began relatively calmly, by the time it reached Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus, it had morphed into a hysterical shriek.
“Miss Flapper found a letter under her door warning that next time she wouldn’t get away! That none of us would ever get away again, not after the wall is built!” Frankie squealed with terror to Draculaura.
“What are we going to do? Monster High, and even the whole town of Salem, isn’t strong enough to fight the normies! I don’t care what my parents say. I don’t think Scariff Fred realizes what we’re up against!” Draculaura exclaimed while pulling at her pigtails nervously.
“I am sad to say, I think you’re right,” Miss Flapper added in her usual soft-spoken manner. “We’re going to need help to battle the normies.”
“My hair! My poor hair! It will never be this shiny again! There’s no way the normies will let us have high-gloss products!”
“Pardonnez-moi, Madame Flapper,” Rochelle called out to the chicly dressed dragon. “But might we see the letter?”
“I’m terribly sorry, but I already gave it to Scariff Fred,” Miss Flapper replied, turning to leave. “Oh, and I would be careful, ghouls, for as I told Scariff Fred, they’re watching us… preparing for their next move.…”
As soon as Miss Flapper had floated out of earshot, Venus motioned for Robecca and Rochelle to lean in.
“She’s raising the stakes, making sure everyone is scared,” Venus declared before releasing a long, drawn-out sigh.
“We need to find out what she’s planning. Time is running out,” Rochelle exclaimed while tapping her claws against her hard stone cheek.