JackG@killerschool Read online

that wood! I am NOT staying in this dump to become a slave like that little Goody simpleton.”

  “And what about Doubt and Fear, guarding the woods? They will eat us alive if they find us there.”

  “But we have this GPS! Not even Molluscum has that, and he gets through the woods. If we use it - I bet we shall move faster than those two.”

  “Molluscum knows one of the secret words. We don’t. And just look at the state he is in when he comes back; full of scratches and festering sores. One of those branches díd get hold of him once. He could not say the word in time, he says. He was half dead when Doubt dragged him back here.”

  “Yeah well, I don’t picture him as a branch manager at all,” Lefty chips in. He has finished his pizza slice.

  But Amoran is in no mood for laughing.

  “Please Jack, just forget about escaping. We’re safer here. I don’t want you leaving and not knowing what happened to you.”

  “That won’t happen! You’re coming with, so you can see what happens to me! Honestly Amoran, the things you worry about!”

  “I am all for your plan, Jack, says Lefty. ”Who wants to sit around here for the rest of his life, simply because it is dangerous to escape?”

  “Good for you, Lefty! Just imagine: a skateboard and a long mountain road; that’s FREEDOM!” Jack smiles at the thought.

  Fishing for information

  “Miss Fishistory tells me that you were late with Doubt and Fear’s breakfast yesterday, boy.” Yersinia looks down at Goody-two-shoes in disdain.

  “Oh but,…I am sorry ma’am. It’s because I was listening…at the door. Did you know, ma’am, …that…Wesley…he likes a girl!”

  “No! A girl! How is that possible?” Yersinia’s sarcasm is not completely lost on him, but he chooses to ignore it because of his fear for her.

  “Her name is…D..Delinquency…She is very pretty.”

  “Yeees…Phillip” She purses her lips. “And what did you find out about that other creature, that Gullible?”

  “I…he…not much, except… he…I saw him talking to that same girl, that Delinquency, but she does not like him.”

  Yersinia’s expression changes from surly to someone who has just seen the light. When she realises her mistake, she curtly tells Goody-two-shoes:

  “Well, keep on trying boy…er…Phillip You realise this is not much – and not at all what I am looking for! Please go now!”

  But what Goody does not know, is that she is chuckling inward. Delinquency! What a happy coincidence!

  Yersinia’s public murder attempt

  Yersinia sparkles charm. Ever so often she rubs her arm, emitting some more airtime into her system. She is wearing every single diamond necklace and bracelet in her possession, looking like a constellation of stars that have lost their way in the universe.

  The glitterati out of the Woods have all arrived in style.

  “The woman looks like a wandering Christmas tree,” sneers an envious Mrs Fishistory, who has just disembarked from a school taxi bus, waving her head towards Yersinia.

  “Oh Mr.Crabgait! So lovely to see you again!” sings Mrs. Pestis-Wannabe-Macbeth. “Please may I introduce you to Miss Torturekid. I hear so many wonderful things about her modern techniques. Are you still happy with your teaching position at the school, my dear?”

  But before the dear can answer, Mrs. Pestis-Wannabe-Macbeth has turned her back and is already talking to one of her other weirdo guests.

  “Is the Inspector of the Lady-Macbeth Foundation here?” whispers Mr. Crabgait.

  “Haven’t seen him yet, but I’m sure he’s invited. You know how aspiring the woman is. I would not mind to meet him myself,” chirps little Miss Torturekid.

  Yersinia does not hear them.

  “Mr. Barbedshoe! I have noticed your promotion of the new Spikebooties! So delightful! I really wish I could use a few. .. Come in everybody! Please take your seats. I have some entertainment organised!”

  Yersinia takes a spray can with the words Wild Dog Breath printed on it from her clutch bag and sprays some of the contents into her mouth and down her throat.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce our two gladiators for the evening: To my right we have… Wesley Southbound!”

  Wesley enters the stage, bowing and smiling confidently. The guests applaud wildly and start chanting:

  “Wesley Bloodbound! Wesley bloodbound!”

  In a dark corner of the hall, a man who has slithered inside unobtrusively at the last moment is smiling contentedly. His snake head and forked tongue is not clearly visible in the dark, and he refuses to remove his bowler hat. After a while, he is joined by a woman who is wearing an exquisite hairstyle. “Salmonella dear, I see you are ready for our own little show. Half a truth is more effective that a downright lie. Don’t you agree?”

  “Show me the tattoo first,” she sneers.

  “It’s dark. Wait your turn, wench! And be quiet.” His look silences her. “I see the boy is still here. His mother still hasn’t paid. What a happy little circumstance.”

  “And the other one is as good as dead. You need not be afraid of him anymore. He cannot fight.”

  “Who is afraid?” he retorts in an irritated manner. “Yersinia must earn her looks; that is all there is to it.”

  “Come on Wesley dear, choose your weapons. Look them through carefully,” calls Yersinia from centre stage.

  On the one side of the stage an array of primitive weapons is displayed: two swords; one modern anti-riot shield that was stolen from a policeman; and an ancient rusty Roman suit of armour of uncertain origin.

  Wesley struts the stage towards the display with mock curiosity, but it is obvious that he has seen all of this before. He takes the light, highly polished stainless steel sword and the modern shield.

  “I am ready,” is all he says.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s winner of course, will have a date with the sweet little Delinquency Taylor. Come on girl. Let’s see you!”

  Delinquency is forced onto the stage by Doubt and Fear. She looks at Yersinia and her audience with defiance. Mr. Crabgait lets out a sick wolf’s whistle.

  “Well, that’s enough girl,” Yersinia snaps. “Get back to your waitering duties.” She forces herself to smile at her audience before she makes the next announcement.

  “And then last, but not least; our second gladiator for the night: Jack Gullible!”

  “Is this really happening?” Jack asks himself. “Am I really part of this nauseating scenario?”

  “Put on the full armour,” says the GPS in his pocket. Fortunately there is such a racket that only Jack hears this. If he is going to be the laughing stock of this place, he might just as well do it. It seems nobody here cares whether he or Wesley, or both of them get killed! There are more sick people around here than just Yersinia.

  Jack walks up to the suit of armour amidst jeers from the spectators. When he passes Wesley, the latter smiles at him.

  “I’ve had lessons, Gullible. You don’t have a chance; how will a few words, written on a rusty sword help you?”

  There is a pair of sandals which seem somewhat big for Jack, but as he tightens the laces, they seem to adjust in size automatically. The plebeians are roaring with laughter.

  “Don’t be intimidated,” says the GPS. “Put on the breastplate and the girdle.”

  They shrink to fit Jack perfectly.

  “That sword looks very rusty to me,” shouts out a man called Professor Evilunion. “You don’t stand a chance!”

  Jack puts on the helmet and takes the shield and the sword in his hands. It does indeed seem rusty. Wesley’s sword is spotless and flashy. Jack looks at the blade of his sword. Some words are engraved on it. He can see the words ‘hope’, ‘joy’, and the other one looks like ‘peace’. The rest is totally lost in the rust. How does Wesley know about these words? He must have seen this sword before.


  “Strange,” Jack thinks. “No part of this armour is as heavy as I thought it would be.”

  How exciting it would be to go on a real date with Delinquency! He had dreamt of it very often, but now his dream has become a nightmare. He is expected to kill someone for her, or get killed himself. In any case, he would never go on a date with her if she is forced to do so.

  “Am I the only sane person in this place?” Jack wonders as he hesitantly walks up to Wesley and faces him. “Is someone really going to die? Is this really happening?” he thinks in fear.

  “The Word was the source of life,” whispers the GPS. Jack looks around to see if anybody has heard, but he only sees Doubt and Fear hurriedly leaving the hall through a side door.

  “The Word was the source of life,” he repeats to himself, without knowing why.

  “You may start at the drop of my cell phone!” calls Yersinia. “Gladiators, are you ready? After this, you will never be what you have been before! En garde!”

  Wesley instantly assumes some kind of fencing position of which Jack knows nothing. Yersinia drops the phone.

  Wesley moves in on Jack like lightning. Jack wards off the attack with his shield.

  The unknown spectator

  How utterly stupidly these two kids are fighting. It’s hard not to go and help Jack, of course, but my King, the Star Breather told me not to interfere this time, because Jack now has the Word in his hand. I don’t argue of course, but I wish I could just once whack that little Wesley brat off his feet. I have handled a sword since the beginning of time!

  It’s Yersinia’s fault that that Sword of Jack’s is so rusty.