Information

Classroom has a minion!

Assistent the Umbri

Classroom
Legacy Name: Classroom

The

Nightmare Illumis
Owner: InnerTurmoil

Age: 14 years, 11 months, 2 days

Born: April 18th, 2011

Adopted: 14 years, 5 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: October 8th, 2011

Nominate Pet for Spotlight

Statistics

Level: 7
Strength: 19
Defense: 7
Speed: 10
Health: 10
HP: 10/10
Intelligence: 0
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

It seems your old Biology teacher has come back to haunt you. And you thought those slimy things in jars were scary...

"Who the hell was this Christopher that they had to put such an ugly plaque on the door for him?"
"Haven't you heard his story yet, Brian? He's the ghost of the old biology teacher haunting this classroom." A tall brown-haired boy grins mischievously at the freckled red-head beside him, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he follows his friend inside the classroom for their final lesson of the day.
"Haunts it, does he? Was he so keen on teaching he couldn't leave his school behind? He didn't have much of a life to begin with if that was the most exciting thing he... "
"Quiet, Mr. O'Leary, Mr. Brennan. You are already disrupting the class by your lateness." Their current biology teacher, very much alive, shoots a strict look in their direction before continuing her instructions. "Now, as mentioned last week, today we will begin studying the cells of plants as seen through a microscope. You are expected to provide acurate drawings of your findings. The microscopes can be found in the cupboards at the back of the class. The plant material you will collect from these onions..."

"Not to continue teaching, though." Eaman Brennan whispers to his neighbour as they gather pencil and paper from their backpacks. "Apparently some rather nasty, ah, 'accidents' happened to students who found themselves alone in this classroom. Perhaps Professor Mochrie developed a slight antipathy for students in the course of his life."
"I've never heard those rumours. Where did you get them from?"
They both got up and followed the rest of the class, picking up two microscopes, scalpels and onions before settling in the corner furthest away from the teacher's desk and setting to work.

"Well, being the editor of the school's magazine has its advantages... access to the archived copies from the last decade or two, for example. Apparently most of the A-corridor went up in flames in 1997, Professor Mochrie and his fine collection of dead insects and specimen jars along with it. Two students were arrested for it; no idea what happened to them afterwards, nothing more to be found about them in the archives. The A-corridor was rebuilt though, shiny new classrooms and stuff. This one wasn't long in use though." Brennan recounted quietly, peeling his onion and transferring a thin, transparent fragment of it onto the small glass plate under his microscope.

"Let's see... February 1999, we had a student who accidentally cut himself on a scalpel as he cleared his stuff away at the end of a lesson. Got a very nasty infection and died in hospital about a week later. April 1999, a girl got detention and was charged with cleaning all the equipment in here. Seems she fumbled with one of the Bunsen burners and caught fire. Really badly burned, didn't live long either. Lovely obituary in the school's magazine though. May 1999, a student came back to class because he had forgotten his pencil case. One of those shelves suddenly collapsed under the strain of all those creepy specimens; you can guess what it did to the health of the student underneath it. June 1999, a student seemed to have gone missing after the end of year ball, but a couple of days later they found him in this very classroom, dangling from a nice thick stretch of rope from the ceiling. No suicide note to be found though."

O'Leary stares at him, shocked both at the story and the casual tone in which it is told. Brennan takes no notice and continues adjusting his microscope to get a better view of his onion cells. "The classroom has been out of use since, of course, no student dared go in it anymore. They've only used it for storing things all these years. Until today of course, what with the refurbishment of the B-corridor." Brennan finishes his story, looking up from his microscope and grinning at his friend. O'Leary glances rather nervously up at the ceiling and the specimen-laden shelves above his head.

"What, scared?"
"Don't be stupid!"
"Of course you're not scared, not in broad daylight and all the class around us. But if you'd stay here all night, just you on your own with the spirit of Professor Mochrie... You'll be scared witless."
"No I won't!"
"What, you won't stay here at night or you won't be scared witless?"
"I won't be scared witless! I'm not scared of ghosts, I very much doubt I'd see as much as a glimpse of Professor Mochrie."
"Excellent! Well, just hang around after class and wait for Ms. Davis to leave, and you can tell me all about it tomorrow morning during maths."

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