Supernatural 22.

Here’s another old story I wrote while I was in high school, in fact the story itself is set at Edmond Memorial High School in Edmond, Oklahoma, where I attended classes. The names of the teachers and the principal are real, including Mr. Wilson, who was my biology teacher. Come to think of it, I did read a lot of Stephen King books back in those days.

It was only ten o’clock in the morning but the clouds made the sky look like a midnight sky. Flashes of lightning and claps of thunder announced a storm’s arrival, but it never arrived.

Nearby, at Edmond High School, few students attended because of the threatening weather. As the teachers rambled on, lecturing the students, most could not wait for third hour, an opportunity to go home.

Then the bell rang. Students charged into the halls and zipped home in their cars, pretending they were going to a restaurant. They were home a while later.

But, the students who took the time to complete the education of theirs, went to their classes.

The tardy bell rang.

In Room 24, a bald-pated, plump man came to check roll in his class. He left the classroom door open, as he always did, leaving the students to look out the door. Since Room 24 was in the front hall of the school, students looked out a window in the hall that provided them with a terrifying view of he sky. Mr. Wilson smiled at one girl, but the girl did not smile back.

“Oh, come on, class!” exclaimed Mr. Wilson. “There is a severe thunderstorm warning over the City and Edmond. That’s all. No tornadoes, hurricanes, or hail. Just rain, huge camera flashes, and ultra-boom speakers. That’s all.”

Nobody smiled.

“I can’t believe it! You are almost adults! You are ready to pursue a life of your own, but it’s silly for business executives to dart for their closets each time it starts to rain.”

Few boys smiled.

“Now, can we get started?”

Mr. Wilson was about to start when a girl came running into the room. She was crying.

“Mr. Wilson! Please come to Room 22!”

“Why?”

“Our room is haunted!” screamed the young lady. Her tears were smearing the make-up on her face.

“Why do you pick me? Go to Mr. Winn. He’s the principal.”

“No, we need you.” said the girl. “Mrs. Teague mentioned your name. We really need you!”

Mr. Wilson sighed and turned to the class and said, “We will use the hour as a study hall. Use it to finish up any assignments you have. I’ll be right back.”

The room was a disaster. Room 22, a chemistry room, had overturned desks and broken chemical equipment. The students were standing, bunched up against the wall, defending themselves from a flying book. Mr. Wilson stepped in and gasped. The flying book was dashing around the room and flew towards a student who was coming towards Mr. Wilson.

“Mr. Wilson, look at this mess!” said the student.

“Look out!” Mr. Wilson yelled, and dodged the book, which hit the student’s face so hard that his head was slapped off his shoulders and it rolled on the ground.

Still, the head was alive. “Help us quick!” yelled the head. “Don’t wait any longer! Do something now!”

By now, the book stopped itself over the head and fell straight down to smash the head.

Mr. Wilson gasped.

Mrs. Teague screamed.

“Look! In the corner!” yelled a boy.

All eyes turned to a boy who was making up a chemical experiment that he had missed. The solution in the test tube that he was holding was green and bubbling wildly. The solution was filling up the test tube and overflowing. It spilled out as a slimy liquid, covering the boy’s hand. Its stinging properties made the boy scream. The slime was now replacing the skin of the boy’s body, gradually climbing up his arm, his chest, his head, and his legs…

As the horrified class watched the boy, he was turning from a normal boy to a huge, green mound of slime. Then, the bubbles burped out of the pile, and the mound collapsed and splattered on the floor.

Mrs. Teague turned to Mr. Wilson and yelled, “Please help us!”

Mr. Wilson thought for a while, then said, “No, because I do not have any power to be an exorcist.”

“Yes, you do!” yelled Mrs. Teague. “What about the time you lived in the mobile home park and you killed an old woman by wishing her dead?”

“Well-”

“And you got rid of a ghost by setting up candles in place of every light bulb in your house?”

“It was during a thunderstorm!”

“Mr. Wilson! Look!”

This time eyes turned on a girl who put her hands to her head. She was trembling and screaming, “I-I have a headache! A-A splitting headache!”

Her head was swelling and growing larger and larger. When it looked like it was going to burst, it did. Away fell the head and out of the neck stump flew the heart, liver, and the intestines. Then, the body fell down, dead.

“Mr. Wilson, I just know you can save the class from a certain ghost.”

“What ghost?”

“Th-the one, that is coming– now!”

Mrs. Teague was pointing to a bulge in the floor. Suddenly, a fist flew from under the floor, breaking the tiles. The long sharp fingernails cut the hole large enough to allow a face to exit the hole. This face was green and had huge horned ears. The ghost jumped up and dashed to Mrs. Teague.

“I am back,” whispered the ghost.

“Why?”

“Because your classroom is right above my grave. I wish to demolish what is above it.”

Mr. Wilson stepped forward saying, “You will not. I am the reason why you should leave us alone.”

“Oh? I am the resurrection of the Devil!” The ghost stepped forward. “And I dare you to destroy my soul. I am giving you one minute to destroy me, if you know what’s good for me.”

Mr. Wilson thought.

The ghost was staring.

Mrs. Teague was praying.

The students were intensified.

Mr. Wilson still thought.

The ghost screamed and picked up Mr. Wilson and threw him across the room. He landed on the desks.

“You have little time,” said the ghost.

“I know.”

“So let’s see some action.”

“I have no action. I don’t know what I can do.”

“Then SUFFER!”

The ghost threw Mr. Wilson again and again. Mr. Wilson stood up and then he had changed. He seemed more muscular, more younger and more braver. He had wished himself to be.

Mr. Wilson stood up and faced the ghost and pointed at him. “I am the resurrection of Hercules!”

Then, Mr. Wilson picked up the ghost and threw him against the wall. The ghost, unfallen, ran to Mr. Wilson and threw a punch into his face. Wilson then took the monster by the arm and spun him round and round and then let him go. The ghost struck the desks and knocked all them over. Then, the ghost walked up to Wilson and melted and then splattered on the floor. The classroom was no longer haunted. It was now a normal classroom.

Just then, an eerie green lit the whole room and blinded everyone. When the light died away, the classroom was normal. Nothing was broken, nobody was hurt, and nobody saw a mess.

Mr. Wilson received a thunderous applause when he came back to Room 24. Everyone was proud to have a hero as a teacher, and not an ordinary person.

The dark clouds still hung outside, but nobody cared now.