“This is becoming nuttier than a bowl of almonds and acorns. Why doesn’t anybody remember the school being under Miss Flapper’s control?” Robecca questioned no one in particular.
“Of course I remember it. I just don’t think about it. I mean, what’s the point? It’s over,” Frankie countered with a shrug.
“Frankie, I feel it is my duty to point out that at this time, we have no discernible proof that it is either continuing or finished,” Rochelle uttered authoritatively.
“Look around, Rochelle. Life is back to normal,” Draculaura interjected, before flipping one of her pigtails.
“But that’s not to say that any of us has forgotten what you guys did last semester—because we haven’t. And as a token of our appreciation, we’d like to invite you ghouls to join the Frightingale Society,” Frankie offered with a smile.
Venus, Robecca, and Rochelle squealed in unison, absolutely thrilled by the invitation.
And though the ghouls remained deeply concerned about the school’s future, they couldn’t help but celebrate the good news. After all, it was quite an honor to be invited to join the Frightingale Society after only one semester at Monster High. Created by the school’s founders, the Frightingale Society was an all-ghouls sorority dedicated to community service and fostering lifelong friendships among monsters.
“Oh, merci boo-coup! I am so honored to be part of an organization with such an illustrious history,” Rochelle prattled graciously to Frankie, just as a long and exaggerated sigh emanated from the royally difficult mouth of Cleo de Nile.
“I thought the Frightingale Society was supposed to be exclusive, as in it excludes people,” Cleo whined petulantly. “What’s next? Are we going to let pets in?”
“Come on, Cleo. Why don’t you tell us what you really think?” Venus retorted sarcastically.
“As far as I’m concerned, the club lost its exclusivity the second it let Cleo in,” Toralei huffed, twitching her ears and smirking at the visibly agitated mummy.
Just as the elevator’s occupants started to worry that a catfight might break out, the doors slowly parted. Before them was a heart-shaped wrought-iron gate above which hung an antique wooden sign with a hand-carved message: WELCOME TO THE NORTHERN TUNNELS OF THE CATACOMBS, WHERE HIDDEN FROM LIGHT, IN THE DARK OF NIGHT, YOU JUST MIGHT FIND A MONSTER’S TRUEST FRIGHT.
Illuminated by wrought-iron sconces, the northern tunnels were lined with smooth gray stones, which fit together seamlessly as though pieces of a puzzle. Intricate carvings of skulls along with life-size portraits of historically important monsters, painted in fluorescent purple, decorated the seemingly endless array of tunnels. Handrails in the form of thick black chains hung ominously across the walls as though imprisoning the many subjects of the paintings.
The faintly lit stone path twisted and turned, passing more than a few digging stations—areas designated for unearthing artifacts—before coming upon the catacombs’ sole classroom. The stonewalled room was absolutely brimming with color from the desks and chairs crafted out of brightly painted animal bones, rocks, and twigs. In sharp contrast to the pink, yellow, and red furniture was the black chalkboard on which WELCOME TO CATACOMBING: THE ART OF DIGGING AND DISCOVERY was scrawled messily.
As Robecca entered the classroom, her eyes pricked with tears, which instantly turned to steam. From the second she stepped off the elevator, she’d sensed an undeniable presence, one that she hadn’t felt in years—that of her father, Hexicah Steam.
“Robecca? Are you okay?” Venus whispered quietly to her visibly distraught friend.
“I know it was a long time ago, but the catacombs were the last place anyone saw my father,” Robecca explained as her eyes continued to steam. “I can’t help but think of him and wonder where he is….”
“But I thought your father was a normie?” Venus inquired.
“He was, but he was working on mechanical replacements for normie organs when he disappeared. So who knows? Maybe he’s been able to replace his own parts,” Robecca said with a sniffle.
“Ma chérie, I had no idea your father disappeared in the catacombs,” Rochelle expressed sweetly while putting her hand on Robecca’s arm. “I’m sure if we explain the situation to Monsieur D’eath, he will happily change us to another class.”
“Thanks, but I think it’s high time I face my feelings. I’ve never told anyone this before, but I always thought there was something fishy about my dad’s disappearance. Right before it happened he was acting kind of weird—going out at all hours of the night to meet people and talking about how important it was that I lived in a world that treated all monsters equally.”
“All monsters equal? I don’t think so,” Toralei muttered loudly as she pushed past the ghouls and took a seat.
“Ignore her,” Cy said quietly as he handed Robecca a tissue.
“Thanks, Cy,” Robecca responded softly.
“Anytime,” the boy replied shyly, before melting back into the shadows.
As everyone began to sit down, Hoodude grabbed the chair immediately next to Frankie Stein, his consummate crush. And while Cy also wished to sit next to his consummate crush, he didn’t want to be nearly as obvious as Hoodude. So instead, the quiet one-eyed boy plopped down in the seat behind Robecca.
“Hello, boys and ghouls,” Mr. Mummy announced as he entered the classroom. The always-dapper man was adorned in crisp white gauze, a vest, and a tie.
After placing his leather satchel on his desk, Mr. Mummy smiled fervently at his new crop of students.
“Welcome to Catacombing: The Art of Digging and Discovery. Together we shall explore the vast and seemingly infinite deposits of history hidden throughout the northern tunnels.”
Mr. Mummy then began walking through the classroom, occasionally stopping to tap his soft, gauze-covered fingertips against students’ desktops.
“As the use of archaeological tools is a messy affair, we have been given two trolls, Trick and Treat, as aides. And before you ask, Trick and Treat are their real names. Apparently, they are quite taken with the normie holiday of Halloween. Now then, they will sweep up, carry heavy artifacts to the elevator, and generally try to maintain some semblance of order down here. But please do not mistake this to mean they work for you, because they don’t. Do not ask them to clean your room, because, one, they will have a trolliday party in there when you’re not home. And, two, it’s highly inappropriate. Any questions?”
Excited chatter instantly erupted in the stonewalled classroom. Students were practically exploding with inquiries about everything from the trolls to Mr. Mummy’s greatest archaeological find. Yet in the midst of this eagerness and enthusiasm, Robecca sat silently staring at the ground. And it was not because she hadn’t any questions—quite the contrary. The young ghoul was absolutely teeming with questions; only they weren’t about Catacombing class.
They were about her father.
as the sun slipped behind the mountains, Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus wandered down the main hall. They had finally completed their first day of classes, which included Catacombing, Mad Science, Physical Deaducation, G-ogre-phy, and Home Ick.
From the ceiling came the soft sounds of bats rustling awake. Known as the school’s in-house exterminators, they spent their nights prowling for insects and spiders.
“Jeepers creepers! I think that bat just winked at me,” Robecca yelped, peering up at the ceiling.
“Maybe he has a crush on you?” Venus joked sarcastically.
“I think it’s far more probable that the creature got a bit of dust in his eye and that what Robecca interpreted as a wink was merely a blink. Of course, there is also the possibility that the bat acquired the extremely rare illness known as Winking Bitty Bat Syndrome.”
“If you weren’t a gargoyle, dedicated to telling the truth, I would never believe you. You’ve got to admit, Winking Bitty Bat Syndrome sounds pretty silly,” Venus said with a giggle.
“It sure does,” Robecca agreed.
“I’ll have you know that Winking Bitty Bat Syndrome is an entirely real illness. It’s named after a bat named Bitty who could not stop winking due to a strange infection in his left eye. Sadly, he spent years being accused of taunting every gargoyle in Scaris before someone finally thought to take him to a doctor,” Rochelle recalled solemnly, clearly moved by Bitty Bat’s plight.
Upon arriving at the Chamber of Gore and Lore, Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus quickly set about freshening up before dinner. However, in the midst of Rochelle glossing her lips, Venus buffing her leaves, and Robecca greasing her gears, the trio heard something peculiar. It was the familiar sound of footsteps, one after the other, only it was coming from a most unusual place—the ceiling.
“I think someone’s up there,” Robecca whispered to the others.
“Maybe it’s Miss Sue Nami fixing something?” Venus thought aloud.
“With all due respect to Miss Sue Nami, if she were walking across our ceiling, I am rather certain she would crash through,” Rochelle pronounced assuredly. “No, it has to be someone lighter, someone with a perfectly logical reason to be walking in the crawl space between the dormitory and the attic.”
“Maybe it’s a troll sent to rescue a wayward bat?” Robecca posited doubtfully.
“Maybe,” Venus mumbled as she followed the footsteps across the room, stopping only when she came to the wall.
A muffled thud reverberated through the plywood and plaster between the rooms, prompting the three ghouls to look at one another curiously.
“Well, whoever it is just jumped into our neighbor’s room…” Venus trailed off before covering her mouth with her hands in shock.
“Eek! Do you think one of the trolls is a burglar?” Robecca squealed quietly while simultaneously furrowing her brow and frowning.
“Absolutely not, Robecca,” Rochelle replied firmly.
“Think about who lives next door,” Venus urged.
“Miss Flapper,” Robecca mumbled, still unsure of what to make of the situation. “But if it’s a troll visiting Miss Flapper, why not use the door? Why sneak in through the ceiling? She is, after all, seen with trolls all the time.”
“You make a very good point,” Rochelle acknowledged as the sound of an angry yet muffled voice came through the wall.
The trio immediately pressed their ears against the smooth white surface, absolutely desperate to make out what was being said. But alas, it was impossible—the wall was simply too thick. As Rochelle sighed in defeat and Robecca plopped onto a bed, Venus tiptoed over to the window and opened it as quietly as possible.
“You must never come here again! If someone sees you, I’m finished! And I’ve worked too hard and come too close for this not to succeed!” a stern voice hissed angrily, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of footsteps once again trotting across the ceiling.
After closing the window, Venus, Robecca, and Rochelle huddled together in the far corner of the room.
“Was that Miss Flapper?” Venus whispered to the others. “It sounded like her, only much louder and harsher.”
“Pulling pistons! I don’t like the way ‘I’ve worked too hard for this not to succeed’ sounded,” Robecca muttered nervously.
“I only wish we could have seen who she was talking to,” Rochelle said regretfully. “Now then, paragraph 3.9 of the Gargoyle Code of Ethics clearly states that one must share with the authorities any and all information relating to a possible crime. So, with that in mind, I suggest we track down Headmistress Bloodgood and Miss Sue Nami.”
“I’m not trying to be a thorn about this, because I know how seriously you take your code of conduct, but I think you’re wrong. We don’t know who Miss Flapper is working with, so I hardly think it’s wise to be talking to anyone at this point,” Venus stated confidently.
“In the name of the goat’s boat, are you implying Miss Sue Nami or the headmistress could be involved?” Robecca asked with an audible gulp.
“No, I don’t think so,” Venus said, shaking her head. “But I just don’t think it’s smart to talk to them without solid proof. Because if they aren’t sure about what we’re saying, they could repeat it.”
“And that would jeopardize not only our personal safety but the school’s,” Rochelle agreed.
After waiting patiently for Miss Flapper to exit her room, the ghouls then crept carefully downstairs. However, mere seconds after blending into the crowd of students in the main corridor, Venus spotted the stunningly beautiful dragon speaking with none other than Headmistress Bloodgood.
“Tell me, Rochelle, is there such a thing as Two-Faced Teacher Syndrome?” Venus asked through gritted teeth, her nose twitching as her pollens of persuasion rumbled beneath the surface.
“I can say with absolute certainty that there is no medically recognized syndrome of that name,” Rochelle responded in her formal manner.
“I must say it’s a real funky monkey having Miss Flapper living next door to us. Talk about heebie-jeebie central,” Robecca mumbled. “Oh, just thinking about it makes me steam up.”
“S’il ghoul plaît, Robecca, you must calm down or you’ll be damp and frizzy before we even reach the Creepateria,” Rochelle advised her friend as Miss Flapper, now dressed in a floor-length violet gown, ambled away from the headmistress.
“Come on, ghouls, let’s do a little investigating,” Venus said as she approached Headmistress Bloodgood.
“Well, if it isn’t three of my favorite students—tied with your classmates, of course. As you know, a headmistress cannot play favorites. Now then, if this is about a schedule change, you’re going to have to speak with Mr. D’eath. Last I heard he was having a picnic by himself in the middle of the Casketball court. Speaking of which, the court is in desperate need of a wax. It’s getting so that I can barely see my own reflection in it. Anyway, I really must be going, but thank you so much for bringing the terrible state of the Casketball court to my attention.”
“Um, actually, we didn’t. We haven’t even had a chance to say anything yet,” Venus stated awkwardly.
“Really?” Headmistress Bloodgood responded with a most puzzled expression. “My apologies, ghouls. Now then, what can I do for you?”
“It’s about the incident last semester. Have you heard anything else?” Venus inquired.
“Of course, the incident,” Headmistress Bloodgood said with a knowing nod. “You mean when Hoodude asked Frankie to marry him? He really can be such a silly boy.”
“Good golly, Headmistress, have you forgotten about the whisper incident already?” Robecca wondered aloud.
“Oh, you’re talking about that. Really, ghouls, you mustn’t dwell on the past. That’s all behind us now,” Headmistress Bloodgood reassured the students. “You see, Miss Sue Nami and I have come to realize that the whisper arrived at Monster High by accident. Poor Miss Flapper hadn’t a clue she was even doing it. Now then, I insist you put all this nonsense out of your minds,” she instructed the students forcefully before joining Sam, Marvin, and James the pumpkin heads as they bobbed down the hall singing, “We are back at school, among the ghouls, we only hope they don’t think us fools!”
“I must say, they are very musical, very yinyue indeed,” Jinafire assessed as she walked up to the three ghouls, paused to subtly bow, and then smiled.
“Sí, sí! We can even hear them singing through the dorm walls,” Skelita added as she joined the group.
“Ghouls, I am so happy to have run into you,” said Rochelle. “How are you finding everything? Do you have any safety issues? The bats? The creaky staircase in the dormitory? I am here to help allay any and all of your concerns.”
“Ah, gracias, Rochelle. But you really don’t need to worry about us, we’re fine,” Skelita replied warmly.
“Yes, it is true, we are very happy here, especially because of Miss Flapper. She is a wonderful woman,” Jinafire offered.
“Sí, sí! Me gusta Miss Flapper,” Skelita seconded, before the two waved good-bye and continued down the
hall.
“It looks like Miss Flapper found some new fans,” Robecca muttered quietly.
“Fans?” Venus replied suspiciously. “More like targets.”
following a most delightful dinner of Zombie Stew, a savory soup cooked very slowly, Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus headed to the Arts and Bats room for their very first Frightingale Society meeting. As this was the school’s most popular all-ghouls club, they were understandably a bit nervous and apprehensive about what to expect. Both Rochelle and Robecca fiddled nervously with their accessories, while Venus fussed over her long pink-and-green-striped hair.
Upon arriving at the room with craft supplies and bats, the trio found it a great deal more sophisticated than usual, with large bouquets of pink roses, plaid tablecloths, and a wide variety of mouthwatering desserts. Even the walls were decorated with posters of successful ghouls, like sea creature Gillary Clinton, werecat Feral Streak, centaur Tina Hay, and so many more.
“I must say this really is the bee’s knees! Can you believe we’re actually members of such a prestigious club?” Robecca gushed as Venus and Rochelle sampled the chocolate chip cookies, coconut cake, and éclairs.
“After a stressful day, this is just what I needed,” Venus said as she shoved an enormous hunk of cake into her mouth.
“Jeez, Venus, you look like Chewy with a bracelet the way you’re going after that coconut cake,” Robecca teased lightheartedly.
“It’s most ironic that a plant named Chewy hasn’t a clue how to chew,” Rochelle asserted, before crying out, “What if he chokes? None of us knows how to administer the Heimlich maneuver to a plant!”
“Relax. If Chewy hasn’t choked yet on a diet of jewelry, matchbooks, and pebbles, I think he’s in the clear,” Venus reassured Rochelle as Frankie motioned for everyone to take a seat.
Draculaura joined Frankie at the front of the Arts and Bats room, both sporting superchic ensembles. Frankie wore a blue plaid skirt with a matching sweater, while Draculaura opted for a pink dress with white lace trim and knee-high boots.