DHH 2..what i have thus far..


The sun rose in the east, heralding the start of a bright, shining new day. Birds twittered merrily in the trees, and a number of other standard things happened which generally indicate that it’s a beautiful and pleasant and perfect day.

 

In the Allen household, of course, not all members of the family were thrilled with the thought of shining, pleasant, perfect days.

 

This, of course, did not apply to the cheerful young girl who casually shut off the alarm as she sleepily crawled out of bed, rubbing at her eyes. Fuzzy pink pajamas decorated with bunnies and kittens covered her slim frame as she shuffled into equally pink, equally fuzzy slippers.

 

“Khyra,” a muffled voice called from the other side of the door. “Be sure to come downstairs right away. Your father has a special present for you this morning!”

 

“Be right down, Mom!” Khyra called. *A present? That’s odd,* the chestnut-haired girl mused thoughtfully as she shambled down the hall.

 

Khyra reflected once again on her new school, her new principal, and her new classmates. The first day had been quite interesting, and she looked forward to seeing what new surprises would be in store for her today.

 

As long as she didn’t get kidnapped again, mind you. It wouldn’t do to miss class again and get on Mr. Anderson’s bad side.

 

After going through the routine morning ablutions, Khyra went downstairs, still clad in her pajamas. She called out a cheerful greeting to her parents, who were already seated at the breakfast table. The mass which was her father contracted with a slight shudder at the sight of her overly cute pajamas, but refrained from comment.

 

Mother, father, and daughter made small talk over a delicious and hearty breakfast of greasy, artery-clogging foodstuffs and a spot of miso soup with tofu. “So, you really like your new school?” Khyra’s mother asked.

 

The cheerful teenager nodded. “Mmf,” she said around a mouthful of some fried quasi-meat product. “Mmf fmm nn mmffmmf.”

 

“I’m glad, dear. I was afraid you might not be comfortable there.”

 

“Oh, it’s fun!” Khyra said after swallowing. “And my classmates are really interesting.” She blinked. “Ack! Speaking of school, I’d better hurry and get dressed…”

 

Troi “Hellstorm” Allen made a sound much like the clearing of a throat.

“Khyra,” he said, “I have something special for you.” A box wrapped in crimson paper with a black ribbon floated out of the inky mass of congealed shadows that served as his body.

 

The teenager blinked, taking hold of the box before it could plop down in the middle of breakfast. “Wow, thanks, Dad…what is it?”

 

“Open it,” the darkness said, burning red eyespots twinkling with cold amusement.

 

Khyra carefully unwrapped the package, setting the ribbon and paper neatly aside, and lifted the cover from the box. “…” she said as she inspected the contents, and she meant it too.

 

“I had to go to a lot of trouble to get that for you,” Troi said as a whole plate of greasy breakfast disappeared into his mass somewhere at mouth level. “There hasn’t been much call for it in many years, you realize…they were rather shocked that anyone would bother to order one.”

 

Khyra fingered the garments in the box. “This is…?”

 

“I figured since you insist on wearing a uniform to school, you might as well wear the right one,” the shapeless figure continued, absorbing his tea. “I hope you like it.”

 

The teenager was silent for a moment…then she smiled. “I love it, Dad. I’ll go put it on right away.”

 

“Better hurry, dear. You don’t want to be late.”

 

“Yesssssss!”

 

 

******

 

 

Five minutes later, Khyra walked back downstairs, bookbag in hand. She was now clad in an unusual variation on the typical girls’ uniform: a dark crimson blouse with black collar, black leather skirt, glossy black shoes and blood-red socks, and a dark grey neckerchief. The school insignia, a gold pin depicting a horned skull with rivulets of ruby red blood trickling *from its eye sockets, was proudly displayed on her collar.  “I’m going now!”

 

Her parents rushed out to see her off. “Ahhh, it looks wonderful on you, dear!”

 

“You’re sure to impress everyone today,” her father noted.

 

Khyra blushed. “Thanks, Dad.” She waved. “Love ya! Bye!”

 

The being known as Hellstorm shuddered.

 

And thus did Khyra Allen skip merrily off to begin another shiny, happy day of sinister, diabolical education…

 

 

*********************************************************

 

Dark Heart High

 

Netherworld Educational Institution for

The Universal Propagation of Evil

started by Mads

 

*********************************************************

Part Two: Education!

by Dr. Palazzo D. Wil…er…Wil D. Palazzo

*********************************************************

 

 

Students of all shapes, sizes, and conceivable modes of existence filtered through the foreboding gates of Dark Heart High as the clock tower ticked ever closer to the fatal minute. In the courtyard, Harold Anderson strolled gracefully among his students, hands clasped behind his back, giving a nod here, a chilling smile there, a frown at a bit of unruly behavior of the sort he preferred not to see among his pupils. Quite an unimpressive lot, he mused to himself. Another in a long string of mediocre freshman classes; he didn’t expect half of them to last through the first year.

 

There was one, however…

 

Anderson paused as he caught a flash of crimson coming through the gate. Striding over, he stepped into the path of a chestnut-haired blur, forcing the student to halt her headlong dash or bowl him over.

 

Khyra panted, hands on her knees, and gaped up at him.

 

“Mr. Anderson…g-g-good morning…” She bowed.

 

He nodded stiffly in reply. “Ms. Allen.” A trained eye took in her appearance casually, and he commented, “Now…this is a uniform I have not seen in many years.”

 

Khyra blushed. “My dad…he got it for me. As a gift, you understand. Umm…this is the right uniform, isn’t it?”

 

The principal smirked before saying. “Dark Heart High does not hold a dress code as such, of course.”

 

“Of…of course,” Khyra stammered.

 

“However…” Mr. Anderson fingered the pin on Khyra’s collar. “This is, in fact, the appropriate official school uniform. I commend your father; this must have been hard to come by.” With a slight nod, he strode away. “It’s almost class time, Ms. Allen. Please hurry along.”

 

 

******

 

 

Khyra was in her desk a few seconds before the bell. Unlike the previous day, roughly half the class was already present. Just as the bell rang, the remainder of the students began to drift in. Upon spotting a familiar bandaged head and an equally familiar, if somewhat shorter, pink-haired head, she smiled and waved. “Leilei! Bala! Good Morning!”

“Good Morning Khyra!” the pink-haired girl called out. Balabalalde, of course, said nothing, but his sole visible eye flicked in her direction and blinked once before he continued on to his desk.

 

Two seconds after the bell, Ki Tamaida strolled in. He paused, flashing the barest hint of a smile as he brushed a hand through his dark hair, then moved on to his desk. Khyra blushed, her heart skipping a beat. A few seconds later, the rather stern and severe figure of Isabelle Schmitke stalked into the room. “Good morning, class,” she bit off tersely as she took a quick headcount. After a moment, she frowned. “We seem to be missing one–“

 

A loud clanking sound accompanied the rather late arrival of Craig Maimsworth. As he strode through the door, all eyes turned to him…most notably, the teacher’s.

 

“You are tardy, Mister Maimsworth,” Ms. Schmitke spat. “Did you not learn yesterday that tardiness is not tolerated?”

 

“Umm…my watch is slow?” the blonde knight offered.

 

“Inexcusable,” the teacher snapped, pointing one well-manicured finger at the hapless teen.

 

“Aw, dragonturds,” Craig groaned…half a second before he was encased in a solid block of ice.

 

Ms. Schmitke turned and barked out, “You…and you. Take that and toss it into the hellmouth at the back of the room. He should thaw out by the end of class.” As the two students moved to comply, the teacher moved to stand behind the podium. “Now, class…this week, we’ll be going back over some of the things you should have learned by now.” Pausing, she ground out, “I have no doubt that I will be required to re-educate the lot of you in everything you ever learned–or didn’t learn, as the case may be–in junior high. But I will not spend more than one week on old material, so do pay attention.”

 

*Well, a refresher can’t hurt,* Khyra mused to herself. *Especially since I didn’t go to the same junior high as everyone here did…*

 

“As I mentioned yesterday,” the teacher continued, “This class is Basic Villainy 101. Now…you might wonder precisely what is covered in this course. Very well, I will explain. In my class, I will endeavor to teach you the most basic elements of being evil. You will learn how to scheme, how to manage your resources, how to plan for the actions of your enemies down to the last detail, who to kill and when to kill them. You will learn how to carry yourself in a manner that intimidates, that generates fear and loathing wherever you walk. In short,” she summed up, turning her cold gaze on each and every student in the room, “In my class, you will learn how to be a complete and total bitch or bastard.”

 

“What if we’re already a total bitch?” a voice piped up. Khyra noted that it was the pretty girl with bat wings she’d noticed the day before.

 

Ms. Schmitke smiled coldly. “You are…Yvonne Warmack, correct?” she asked.

 

“That’s right,” the girl replied, crossing her arms and assuming a haughty demeanor.

 

“Well, Ms. Warmack…” The teacher crossed the room slowly, heels clicking sharply on the floor tiles. As she reached the bat-winged girl’s desk, she leaned over casually…….and hauled the startled girl out of her desk by the hair.

 

“You are not a bitch,” Ms. Schmitke hissed, “Until I *tell* you you are a bitch. Do you understand me?”

 

“Y-y-yes mam,” Yvonne said. “I understand.”

 

“Good,” the teacher said, smiling poisonously as she released the girl and stalked back to her desk.

 

“Bitch,” Yvonne spat.

 

“Sucking up will get you nowhere in my class, young lady,” Ms. Schmitke replied. Several snickers answered that comment. Khyra noticed that even Leilei was giggling.

 

“Now, I’m not above having a little bit of fun during the first week,” the teacher said, smiling a rather disturbing smile, “So why don’t we begin the refresher course with one of my personal favorite aspects of basic villainy…proper villainous laughter.”

 

There were a few murmurs, mostly of the positive nature. The students, for the most part, seemed to *like* this subject.

 

“Now, it’s important, first of all, to understand that the art of villainous laughter is difficult to master,” Ms. Schmitke lectured. “Breath control, timing, volume, and duration are all essential to the proper laugh, and not everyone can pull it off.” She glanced pointedly at a certain bandaged figure, who simply met her gaze with an unblinking eye. Smirking, she picked up a piece of chalk and moved to the blackboard.

 

“There are four basic types of villainous laughter,” she continued as she began a numbered list. “The first is the soft, evil chuckle. Second, there is the unnerving insane cackle. The third type is the drawn-out megalomaniacal laugh, and finally, for the ladies, there is my personal favorite…the roaring bitch laugh.” She paused, the chalk clacking as she finished writing the information on the board, then turned to face the class. “There are, of course, many varying degrees and subclasses, but these are the four main categories of villainous laughter.”

 

Khyra scribbled the information in her notebook idly, her mind more occupied with the absurd thought that this school actually taught its students how to laugh.

 

“Now, before I begin…Mr. Tamaida.”

 

The dark-haired boy did not meet the teacher’s eyes. In fact, his head rested in the palm of one hand on his desk.

 

Not bothering to correct his apparent lack of attention, Ms. Schmitke continued, “My counterpart at Dark Heart Junior High has informed me that you, in particular, excel at the unnerving insane cackle. Since it is rare for her to speak so highly of her students, I would appreciate it if you would demonstrate your technique for the class.”

 

Everyone turned, attention focused on the boy who, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be half-asleep.

 

Suddenly, a low, grating chuckle began to emanate from Ki’s desk. His shoulders quivered in time with the sound, which rose in volume.

 

“Heh…heheheheh…heheheh…ahahahaha…”

 

Suddenly, he threw his head back. Khyra blinked.

 

“…AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA…”

 

He fell silent again, and a smattering of applause broke out. Ms. Schmitke smiled, clearly impressed. “Very well done, Mr. Tamaida.”

 

*That was scary,* Khyra thought.

 

“And now, allow me to demonstrate the proper technique for the roaring bitch laugh.” Placing the back of her right hand against her mouth and her left hand on her hip, the teacher thrust out her chest, and…

 

“OOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!”

 

She went on like that for a good minute before stopping. Khyra stared, while a good portion of the class began taking notes. Once the teacher finished, she eyed the class. “Now…Ms. Warmack, let’s hear your laugh.”

 

The bat-winged girl stood, clearing her throat, then mimicked Ms. Schmitke’s earlier pose. “OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!”

 

“Mmm…you lack volume,” the teacher noted. “You are not using your chest to its full effect. And the hand should not be used to muffle or stifle the laugh, but rather as an object into which to focus the laugh. I trust you will learn.” As Yvonne glared at the teacher and sat back down, Ms. Schmitke began scanning the room…then stopped at a desk in the front row.

 

“Ms. Allen, was it?”

 

Khyra snapped to attention. “Ahh…yes?”

 

“Let’s hear you try.”

 

The short-haired girl blinked. “Um…”

 

“Laugh, Ms. Allen.”

 

“Ummm…*ahem* ohohohoho?” Khyra ventured.

 

The class snickered. Ki smirked, and Balabalalde blinked an empty eye at her.

 

“…that was pitiful,” Ms. Schmitke scowled. “I’ve never heard anything so thoroughly devoid of effort in my life.”

 

Khyra blushed, aware of the negative attention on her, and cautiously raised her hand…before remembering the previous day, and deciding that was a bad idea. “Umm…mam? Can I try again?”

 

The teacher eyed her frostily, saying nothing.

 

“Umm…I kinda had something stuck in my throat…really, I know I can do better. Umm, please?”

 

Ms. Schmitke snorted in disgust. “Very well, get it over with.”

“Yesssssss!” Khyra stood. *Okay…be calm…it’s important to do things right. I hope I can do this…*

 

Hopping up onto her desk, Khyra planted one foot on the chair and one on the writing surface. Mimicking the teacher’s earlier pose, she planted one hand on her  hip, holding the back of the other hand against her mouth. She drew in a deep breath… ….the class watched her, waiting for her to make a complete fool of herself…

 

….and…

 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                  OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOO                                                OOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  HHHHHHHHH  OOO   OOO  !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  HHH   HHH  OOO   OOO  !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO   HHH   HHH   OOOOOOO

HHH   HHH    OOOOO    HHH   HHH    OOOOO    !!!  !!!  !!!  !!!

 

 

 

Khyra looked around, blinking. Several of her classmates had dived for cover behind their desks, others were blinking at her, a few were staring. Most of the windows in the room sported cracks that hadn’t been there before. Ms. Schmitke stood calmly, eyeing her with neutral hostility, her hair blown completely out of disarray.

 

“…how was that?” she asked.

 

The teacher raised one eyebrow. “That was much better,” she commented idly. “You have potential, Ms. Allen.”

 

Khyra bowed deeply. “Thanks teacher!”

 

She fell off her desk and collided face-first with the floor, giving the class a brief flash of her undergarments as she slid to the ground.

 

“…owie…”

 

Unnoticed, Yvonne Warmack’s left eye twitched.

 

 

******

 

Advertisements
  1. Good start to another installment of DHH. Crisp, fun dialogue–a strongsuit for you. Khyra’s character continues to play out in stereotypical fashion; however, I do like her. I’m more intersted in Bala, and although this story isn’t about him, the suspense about him is killing me. Bravo on that. 😉

    Like

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

MESCTV

Life Is MESC

msherringsays

The life of a middle school language arts teacher. Not to be taken to seriously. Kapeesh?

H I P L O O T

#thelootedlife

KunoichiJen

When You Give a Ninja a Blog...

%d bloggers like this: