Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters by Annabelle Hawthorne (parable of the sower read online txt) 📗

born.” Ratu was looking at herself in the mirror. She quickly pulled her hair back out of her face, fastening it with a piece of ribbon she had pulled off her wrist. When she closed her eyes, her skin became mottled all over, her snake pattern briefly appearing and disappearing. “And it would appear that I’m stuck this way. No transformations.”

“Where are we?” Mike asked, picking up the brooms and mops.

“A broom closet.”

“That’s not a helpful answer.”

“Well it’s the only one I have.” Ratu turned away from the mirror, her hair flaring out dramatically. “This could be a side effect of the artifact, but I suspect something else is involved. While we are here, trust nobody, not even me.”

“That sounds a little dramatic.” Mike tested the doorknob. “It’s unlocked. We should check it out.”

“Hold on.” Ratu searched all around. “I don’t see the goggles.”

“I suspect our bodies aren’t actually here.”

“If we aren’t in our bodies, then we are in spirit form.” Ratu shook her head. “That doesn’t bode well at all.”

Mike took his hand off the doorknob. “How so?”

“Spiritual injury is the worst kind,” she said, grabbing him by the wrist. “Any injury to it follows you to the afterlife, so imagine an eternity of pain or torment. Or worse.”

“Worse?”

“Your immortal soul is only immortal if it passes over to where the bad things can’t harm it. If you die here, you will cease to exist, or perhaps be trapped for all eternity in a state of constant agony. Who can say?”

Mike shivered. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“You are severely understating our circumstances; you should be terrified!”

“Last week my soul was almost eaten by a succubus.” Mike put his hand back on the knob. “In the Dreamscape. I had several days of being afraid like this, and I came to a singular conclusion.” He pushed on the door, swinging it outward.

“Well?” Ratu asked.

“Better to go down swinging,” Mike said with a wink.

Ratu rolled her eyes, then followed him out of the broom closet. They were standing in a long hallway with several doors and lockers in both directions. The lights above flickered ominously.

“What is this place?” Ratu asked.

“The worst place on Earth. Etheridge Middle School.” He recognized the hall. It was on the upper level, where the eighth graders had their classes. How many times had he been pushed down in this hallway alone? The names of his tormentors had long ago faded—even though he had hated them, he’d had to go home to the worst of them all.

“Really? A middle school?”

“Yep.” Moving carefully out into the hall, he signaled for Ratu to follow. “The good news is that I know the way out.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“It’s still a middle school.” Walking quietly, Mike peered into the closest classroom through the window in the door. Shadow children sat in their chairs, their gazes directed toward the front of the room. Stepping back from the door, he bumped into Ratu, his hand quickly finding hers.

“What is it?” she asked.

Mike put a finger to his lips, and they moved back to the window together for a closer look. This time, the shadow children turned their heads simultaneously to look back. Though they lacked faces, each child had a set of glowing red eyes. Mike and Ratu ducked away from the window, moving into the center of the hall.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Mike hissed, pulling Ratu behind him. They moved against the lockers, pressing their backs to the cool metal. “What were those things?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. They stood there for several seconds, waiting to be followed, but nothing happened. “Now what?”

“We need to get out of here before class gets out.” Mike tightened his grip on Ratu’s hand. “Let’s go.”

“When does class get out?”

Mike pointed at the clock at the end of the hall. The analog clock lacked numbers but still had hands. The minute hand was about twelve minutes from the top of the hour. “About seven minutes. Classes always got out at five till the hour.”

“Let’s go, then.” They moved quickly but quietly toward the end of the hall. They had moved past a few doors when Mike saw that a shadow figure was watching them through the glass of one of the last doors. Behind them, the lockers opened and closed, creating a symphony of slamming metal that drove them to run. Once at the stairs at the end of the hall, Mike slid down the railing out of habit. Ratu met him at the bottom. Above them, the lockers grew louder, and the ones on the ground floor began slamming as well.

“Why are they doing that?” Ratu yelled, her hands over her ears.

“I don’t know!” Mike froze in place when he heard the bell ring. There was no way that seven minutes had passed. He pulled on Ratu’s hand, leading her to a small gap between the lockers. After grabbing a nearby trash can, Mike pushed it in front of the gap, then squeezed behind it and pulled it in place. As the doors of the classrooms opened, Mike pulled even harder on the can, lodging it into the wall, then knelt next to Ratu, who had already pulled her legs against her chest.

The hallway filled with hundreds of whispering voices, the lockers having stopped their banging. Mike could see the students’ shadowy legs, moving back and forth. Sweat beaded on his brow, and Ratu wrapped both of her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. His legs tingling from the tight fit, he breathed as quietly as he could, convinced that the shadow children would see him.

They sat this way for several minutes, and then the warning bell rang. The shadows disappeared, and classroom doors shut, leaving the two of them in silence.

“How did you know this would work?” Ratu whispered, then peeked around the corner to see if they were actually alone.

“Piranha Pete.” Pete had been one of Mike’s bullies, a nasty kid with an overbite and braces that had made him look like a rodent with bad