Mysterious Class Novels & Stories

But plans have a way of crumbling when Damien’s involved. I slipped into my first lecture early, hoping to claim a seat at the back. The hall was massive, high-ceilinged with rows of polished wooden desks that smelled faintly of varnish and privilege. My laptop was old and slow, humming like it might die at any moment, but it was mine. I set it up, ready to drown myself in notes. The room began to fill. Whispers and laughter bounced around me, groups of students sticking together like glue. Then the atmosphere shifted.

My inheritance. I fold Maya's notes and hand them back and we sit in the quiet classroom for a moment before the bell moves us back into the school day. Supernatural Theory is the last class of the afternoon. I walk in and take my seat and open my notebook and Ashcroft, who is not Ashcroft, stands at the front of the room and begins the lesson on historical magical containment methods, which under the circumstances is either coincidence or something with a dark sense of humor. I take notes. I keep my face doing what Maya told it to do.

"Unfortunately, I didn't. By the way, who is this boy you are a talking about?" "The Mysterious Boy, I don't know his name, neither do any of us. He started new and he hasn't talked to anyone, not even once." This time, I was the one who spoke. The Principal shook his head. "As far as I know, there's no new student in this school. If there is, I would've known." Again, we exchanged puzzled glances. "Take me to him" The principal said. We were like children who saw a ghost. We took the Principal by hand and led him to our classroom.