Headmistress Bloodgood sat before Beatrix and Autumn in a velvet suit, her hair pulled back in a slick bun—and her detached head on the desk, staring straight at them. Beatrix avoided looking at where the headmistress’s neck abruptly ended.

  “Beatrix Felicity Ravenwood?” the head asked.

  “That’s me.”

  Bloodgood’s body flipped through some papers. "Novice witch?"

  "If novice means I barely know what I'm doing, then yup. I'm veryyy inexperienced with witchcraft," Beatrix said.

  "Very good," Bloodgood said. "As you know, you'll serve as Ms. Patches' aide between classes when she needs medical assistance. Keep a close eye during her Physical Deaducation class—trust me, you'll be picking up loose limbs left and right in that one.”

  Bloodgood's body placed the papers into a neat stack as her head continued, "And you will also be working in our creepateria part-time. Report to Marsha at nine each morning for kitchen duty. Is this arrangement satisfactory to you, Ms. Ravenwood?"

  "Absolutely," Beatrix said, and meant it.

  Over the past week, Beatrix and Autumn had traveled to Oregon by train, ridden a shuttle up a perilous mountain, and reached the foggy peak where Monster High stood. They’d spent hours decorating their dorm room and bought a heap of school supplies from the student store for Autumn. Through it all, Beatrix could barely contain her excitement. She was finally getting a fresh start in New Salem.

  "Thank you again for letting my friend come with me, Headmistress," Autumn said.

  "Yes, well, it would have been dreadful to lose a student of your caliber, regardless of your..." Bloodgood nodded at Beatrix. "...special accommodations."

  Autumn nudged Beatrix with her elbow.

  “Oh, right. Thanks a ton, Headmistress,” Beatrix said. “I promise I won't cause any trouble.”

  “I’m sure you’ll try your best…” Bloodgood replied, her decapitated head looking her over. “There is one more thing you need to know, Ms. Ravenwood. You'll be joining the Monster Sensitivity Seminar—'MSS' for short—on Saturday mornings. It's for new monsters who still have human-like traits compared to the rest of our student body. The seminar will help you learn about all the different supernatural creatures at Monster High so you can get to know your classmates better. Make sure you attend regularly, or we'll have to reconsider your employment. Clear enough?

  “Crystal.”

  “Excellent,” Bloodgood said.

  Bloodgood’s body shifted her head closer to the girls. “Now, what I am about to tell you stays in this office.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Beatrix and Autumn said in unison.

  Bloodgood lowered her voice. "Let me be plain with you, Ms. Ravenwood. No witch has ever walked through Monster High's gates. This is uncharted territory.”

  She glanced at Autumn. "I only approved this exception because Ms. Patches wrote a very moving application essay about growing up around magic users and the importance of inclusivity."

  Bloodgood's eyes fixed on Beatrix again. "But know this—old prejudices between monsters and witches won’t disappear overnight. Some students may be... less than welcoming."

  Her expression softened. "Still, I believe your time here could be the first step toward opening our doors to witches someday. That's why you need to be on your best behavior. So, please, no magic on campus, under any circumstances.”

  Beatrix gave a thumbs up. “You can count on me.”

  Behind Beatrix’s smile, though, a question nagged at her: why were witches banned from Monster High in the first place? Pretty hypocritical for a school that constantly boasted about its diversity.

  Just as Beatrix opened her mouth to ask, Bloodgood rose to her feet, cradling her head in the crook of her elbow. "Thank you for your time this morning, but I have another appointment. You should head to Autumn's first class now." Her tone made it clear the discussion was over.

  Beatrix and Autumn stood. While Autumn thanked Bloodgood again, Beatrix moved to the door and pulled it open.

  Stepping through, she slammed into what felt like a wall. The impact nearly knocked her off her feet. Strong hands gripped her upper arms, steadying her. The scent of leather and pine surrounded her.

  “Bea! Are you okay?” Autumn cried out.

  Dazed, Beatrix blinked until the corridor stopped spinning. That wasn't a wall she'd crashed into. It was a tall guy’s chest.

  She lifted her head and found herself looking into a pair of eyes unlike any she’d ever seen. They were black—completely black. No whites, no irises, just darkness. His eyes were so dark they almost looked hollow, like bottomless caverns she could fall into.

  Beatrix took in the rest of him. He stood a full foot taller than her, with hair buzzed close to his skull, a battered leather jacket, and skin a shade of washed-out gray. A chain necklace glinted at his throat, and at his hip, a strange contraption hung off his belt loop—some kind of retractable staff.

  His hands were still gripping her arms.

  Beatrix jerked back, flustered. He let go, but his eyes never left hers.

  “Grey,” Bloodgood said behind Beatrix, “meet our newest additions to Monster High.”

  “What’s a witch doing here?” Grey asked. The way he spat out “witch” made it sound like a bad word.

  Beatrix’s stomach dropped. She'd hidden her witch hat in the back of her dorm closet and worn completely normal clothes—just jeans and a blouse. So how in the hells did this guy know she was a witch?

  “Why don't we talk in my office?” Bloodgood interrupted, waving Grey inside. “Have a good first day, ladies.”

  Grey brushed past Beatrix. Everything about him—from his tough expression to his cold stare—screamed "detention regular," probably heading to Bloodgood's office for whatever rule he'd broken this time.

  “Wait,” Beatrix said.

  Grey stopped. His dark eyes locked onto hers again.

  “How can you tell I’m a witch?” Beatrix had to know.

  Grey glowered. “I can spot a claimed soul a mile away.”

  Without another word, he disappeared into Bloodgood’s office, the door thudding shut behind him, leaving Beatrix and Autumn alone in the quiet hallway.

  “A claimed soul?” Autumn whispered. “I thought you got to keep your soul until you turn sixteen.”

  “That’s what I thought too…” Beatrix murmured.

  Her family had a long history of making deals with devils for dark powers and knowledge, but Beatrix still needed to sign her own soul away to make her contract official. And she had zero intention of doing that.

  So why does Grey think my soul is ‘claimed’? How does he know anything about my soul at all?

  Thinking of his blacked-out eyes on her sent a shiver down Beatrix's spine.

  Autumn linked her soft arm in Beatrix’s. “We should get going."

  ~ o ~ O ~ o ~

  As Beatrix and Autumn wove through the hallway, monsters of every imaginable shape and size flowed around them—huge trolls, elegant vampires, see-through ghosts drifting above the crowd. The school buzzed with growls, shrieks, and roars, clawed feet clacking and wings flapping.

  This place is a labyrinth, Beatrix thought, unsure which way to go to find Autumn’s first class.

  Autumn’s straw-stuffed arm was still linked in hers, and Beatrix could feel her friend’s grip getting tighter. While Autumn’s face looked happy, Beatrix knew her well enough to know she was terrified.

  “You’re gonna do great,” Beatrix reassured her, giving Autumn’s arm a squeeze.

  “I don’t know,” Autumn’s voice trembled quietly, drowned out by the monstrous sounds around them. “I’m one of the only transfer students this year. What if my homeschooling wasn’t good enough? What if I’m the dumbest monster in class, and everyone can tell, and I trip and my stuffing falls out, and—”

  “Autumn. Breathe,” Beatrix said.

  Autumn took a deep breath and eased her grip on Beatrix. “Right. Okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  As scales, wings, and horns whipped past them, Beatrix didn’t even notice a disembodied hand scuttling past them on its fingertips, green fingers working like spider legs.

  “Bea! Look!” Autumn pointed.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The green hand darted between all the shuffling feet and clopping hooves with surprising speed.

  “Someone grab it!” a loud voice shouted.

  Autumn jumped forward and caught the scrambling hand. She held it tight as it tried to squirm free.

  A girl pushed through the crowd, standing over six feet tall with the same green skin as the hand. Crooked black stitches zigzagged over her body, and she had mismatched eyes—one an electric blue, the other emerald green. Both eyes lit up when they spotted Autumn.

  “Whoah! You have crazy quick reflexes!” the green girl exclaimed. Sparks crackled from the metal bolts sticking out of her neck. “Usually catching my hand is a handful!”

  Autumn giggled at the pun and carefully gave her the hand. The green girl started reattaching it to her wrist with a wonky surgical needle. Beatrix tried not to cringe as she watched the girl stab through her green skin, pulling thick black thread through in sloppy, uneven stitches.

  No wonder her seams are so crooked, Beatrix thought. She fought the urge to grab her own needle and thread and attach that hand properly.

  “Sneaky little thing,” the girl said, wiggling her reattached fingers. “I’m impressed you caught it! With reflexes like that, you'd be perfect for the fear squad.”

  Autumn glowed at the compliment. “What’s a fear squad?” she asked.

  “It’s a team I joined last year as a freshman. We cheer and do pep rallies for all the sports teams. How's your strength?”

  “Oh, terrible. Just look at me,” Autumn said, waving her straw-filled arms. Her frame couldn't have been more different from the green girl's build. “Even for a scarecrow, I’m weak!”

  “That's no big deal! I’m sure we can find a spot for you. I’ve never actually met a scarecrow before! Are you one too?” the girl asked, turning her mismatched eyes to Beatrix.

  The question made Beatrix pause. Unlike that Grey guy, this girl couldn't tell she was a witch. I guess it's not obvious to everyone, Beatrix thought, relieved. Maybe she could blend in here after all.

  “No, I’m just Autumn’s student aid,” Beatrix said, keeping her identity to herself for now.

  “Frankie!” someone called.

  Beatrix saw a copper robot, a granite gargoyle, and a green plant monster waving from across the hall.

  “I better bolt,” Frankie said. “Hope to see you at fearleading tryouts!”

  Frankie headed over to her friends, who were eyeing Beatrix suspiciously.

  “She was nice,” Autumn said cheerfully, oblivious to the group of ghouls.

  But Beatrix kept watching them. The robot, gargoyle, and plant monster huddled around Frankie, whispering something to her.

  Suddenly, Frankie spun around to look back at Beatrix, her voice booming over the crowd. “She’s a witch?”

  Beatrix’s heart sank for the second time that day.

  Almost every monster in the hall froze and followed Frankie’s gaze to Beatrix. The stream of students split around Beatrix and Autumn, leaving them standing alone in an empty spotlight. Whispers rose from all sides.

  Beatrix became hyper-aware of the sharp talons and teeth surrounding her. Her aunts’ voices swirled in her head: The students at your monster school will treat a witch as warmly as humans do…

  “How do they know about you already?” Autumn whispered.

  Beatrix had no idea. All this attention made her worry about how Autumn would suffer by association. The last thing Beatrix wanted was for Autumn to become an outcast because of her.

  “You’re the transfer student, right?”

  Beatrix turned to see two huge sea-green eyes peering at her, framed by a wild tangle of golden curls. The eyes belonged to a fish, or rather, a fish girl.

  “Uh, I’m not a transfer student. She is.” Beatrix pointed to Autumn.

  The fish girl smiled and shifted her attention to the scarecrow. “Oh! You must be Autumn Patches.”

  Autumn's button eyes widened in surprise. “I thought Bea was the one everyone knew about. How do you know my name?”

  The fish girl tucked a curl behind her webbed ear. “Bloodgood asked me to keep an eye out for a new girl starting today. Perks of being on the student council,” she said with a wink.

  Since the fish girl had shown up, the hall was in motion again.

  “Are you lost? You look lost,” the fish said.

  Autumn fumbled through her skirt pocket and pulled out a class schedule. "Do you know where room 217 is?"

  “Clawculus with Mr. Rotter? I don’t know any sophomores taking that class besides Ghoulia. You must be a smart cookie. It’s right upstairs, follow me,” the fish said with a smile. “Name’s Lagoona, by the way.”

  ~ o ~ O ~ o ~

  “Here's the brown slop. Here's the green slop. Never mix the slop. Got it?” Marsha grunted, pointing at two bubbling pots on the stove.

  Beatrix grimaced at the food in front of her. "Loud and clear..." she said, forcing a smile even though the slop didn't look edible. She straightened her apron, determined to master even this unappetizing part of her new job. "Thanks for showing me the ropes, Marsha."

  "Yeah, yeah." Marsha waved her off. "Now go fill the strawscarry containers.”

  Marsha, the head lunch lady, had mossy fingers, reeked of ammonia, and made Beatrix’s aunts look like beauty queens. But despite her gruff exterior, Marsha didn't seem to have a mean-spirited bone in her body. She'd already shown Beatrix how to make spooketti and franken-fries, making her first shift at the creepateria productive so far.

  Turned out cooking was way easier than brewing potions.

  “One minute ‘til the bell!” Marsha announced to the rest of the kitchen staff.

  As Beatrix dumped a bag of strawscarries into a tub, the lunch bell pierced the air, its shrill ring unleashing a stampede of ravenous students. In no time, the line was already out the door, and the lunch ladies began piling dishes onto hundreds of trays for an unruly mob of the undead.

  Meanwhile, a pack of werewolves playfully wrestled in the middle of the creepateria. The largest of the pack, a hulking brown wolf in a casketball hoodie, had a small silver wolf trapped in a headlock.

  “Give it up, Orion!” the other werewolves taunted. “You can't beat Clawd!”

  Suddenly, a hush fell over the pack as a newcomer entered the creepateria.

  Beatrix recognized those pitch-black eyes right away—it was Grey, the tall boy she’d met at Bloodgood’s office.

  As Grey strode past the wolves, Clawd nodded to him, and Grey nodded back before continuing on. An aura of authority radiated off of Grey that Beatrix couldn’t explain. His broad-shoulders set him apart in the lunchroom, and everywhere he walked, students shifted to make way.

  Beatrix averted her gaze. She didn’t want his dark eyes peering at her soul again.

  “'Trix, more spooketti!” Marsha hollered.

  Beatrix hurried over with a bowl of noodles in hand, the sauce sloshing precariously as she rushed to the serving counter.

  “Oh. My. Ra!”

  An Egyptian girl draped in gold wrappings twisted her pretty face in disgust as she stared down at the sauce splattered on her designer shirt.

  “Shoot! Sorry!” Beatrix grabbed a napkin and reached out to dab the sauce away.

  “Don’t touch me! This top is priceless!” the girl sneered. She scanned Beatrix from head to toe. “You must be that witch everyone’s been talking about. What a surprise.”

  That made Beatrix’s blood boil.

  Marsha stepped in. “Miss Cleo, why don’t I help clean your shirt? ‘Trix, get back to work.”

  Beatrix did as she was told. She stomped over to the sinks and scrubbed the dirty lunch trays so hard her knuckles went white. She hated being looked down on, and Cleo had looked repulsed by her.

  “Oh my…” a shaky voice said.

  Beatrix looked up to see an old goblin lunch lady shuffling to her, the creature’s back hunched with age.

  “Never thought I’d see a Nicnevin again,” the goblin said to Beatrix.

  “A Nicnevin?” Beatrix asked.

  “Nicnevin. Magi. Enchantress. Witch. All the same,” the goblin croaked.

  The goblin’s green claws quivered as she scrubbed trays alongside Beatrix. Her name tag read “Greta.”

  “By the way everyone’s been acting, witches are worse than cockroaches,” Beatrix muttered.

  “Be glad it was Miss Cleo you spilled on and not a vampire,” Greta said. “Trust me on that one… Speaking of which… let me show you the blood bags.”

  The goblin pulled open the massive steel refrigerators that loomed against the far wall.

  Beatrix took in the shelves upon shelves of crimson hospital bags. “Whoah. That’s a lot of blood.”

  “Be careful handling these,” Greta warned, gently grabbing a bag that was labeled differently than the others. It read: Veterinary use.

  “For Draculaura, the 'vegetarian,’” Greta explained. “She only drinks animal blood, unlike the rest of them.” Every word sounded strained, like Greta had been a lunch lady for a few too many decades, as she showed Beatrix the proper way to prepare the bags for serving. Beatrix watched intently, memorizing every step. When Greta was finished, she offered some parting words.

  “Take care of yourself…” the goblin said. “Not everyone here is who they appear to be…”

  “Uh… what?” Beatrix asked. However, Greta didn’t elaborate and shuffled away, her stooped form disappearing into the shadows of the kitchen.

  Left alone again, Beatrix turned her attention back to the blood bags, but a strange noise caught her attention.

  “Psst.”

  Is that a damaged pipe?

  “Pssssstt!”

  Beatrix looked around. To her surprise, she spotted her scarecrow friend crouched next to the refrigerators.

  “Autumn! What are you doing back here?”

  “I couldn’t find Lagoona! I don’t know where to sit! It’s terrifying out there.”

  Beatrix gave a quick scan of the kitchen to make sure no one had seen Autumn. Thankfully, the other lunch ladies were still absorbed in their duties.

  “You can hang here, but stay hidden. I don’t want to break any rules on my first day.”

  Autumn nodded eagerly and watched Beatrix continue her work with the blood bags. “How are things? Better than the farm?”

  “Absolutely. I think I have a knack for food prep,” Beatrix said with a grin. “How are your classes so far? Any injuries?”

  Autumn pulled up the hem of her skirt. Bits of straw stuck out from a tear on her knee. “I tripped over someone’s tail during third period. I tried patching it up myself but the angle was tricky.”

  Beatrix peeled off her plastic gloves and fished her needle from her pocket. She sewed up the knee as quickly as she could, finishing in record time.

  “You’re all anyone’s been talking about in my classes,” Autumn said, sounding concerned. “I don’t get how everyone found out you were a witch so fast. Bloodgood didn't tell anyone, did she?”

  Beatrix shook her head. “Bloodgood told us to take things slow and let students get adjusted to a witch being here. It wouldn't make sense for her to tell everyone about me on our first day.”

  Autumn’s button eyes widened. “Bea… I think I know who told everyone…”

  As if on cue, footsteps echoed in the kitchen, sending Autumn ducking behind the fridges and Beatrix scrambling to look busy with the blood bags. But the person didn’t spare a glance in their direction.

  Speak of the devil, Beatrix thought.

  Grey rushed through the kitchen, his hand clenched around the strange contraption at his belt, and shoved through the employee exit without a word.

  “What was that about?” Autumn whispered, poking her head out from her hiding spot.

  A rumble came from the creepateria; the sound of unsettled monster voices.

  Beatrix hurried over to Marsha. “Is everything alright?”

  The lunch ladies all wore the same expression: brows furrowed, hands wringing together nervously.

  Marsha's reply was hardly audible in the growing commotion. “A student was found in the woods outside the school,” she said.

  It took Beatrix a second to process what Marsha meant. Then it clicked. Beatrix’s blood turned to ice.

  Someone died?