Paranormal Academy | 1.1

Book one, chapter one

Otis looked up from his spot on the train. He had been spacing out a lot more recently, which he credited due to his medication change. But the former had to be done or he wouldn’t be able to go further than he has. The train’s tires screeched as they came to a stop just outside of a large iron gate that was worn down by rust over what must have been decades, or even centuries. Otis squeezed his eyes shut, said a little prayer, and then got up from his seat to leave the train. Luckily, not many people had to get off at this stop, so Otis didn’t have to push and shove his way out. Otis stepped out of the train, clunking his suitcase beside his on the pavement. There was a cloud of mist obstructing Otis’s vision; the whole area was gray and bland. But that was to be expected of whose he was: The Ghastly Realm.

Nobody was around, at least not from what he could see. That reminded him! Otis reached into the pocket of his forest green peacoat and pulled out special glasses he had managed to purchase before getting on the train. They looked like average glasses, but these were blessed with a spell that would allow the user to see the supernatural. Once Otis found out this type of glasses even existed, he placed an order for one immediately. Technically, he only needed one lens, as his other eye was covered with a patch. Well, if his eye ever heals, at least he’ll have a full set of glasses. It would’ve been more expensive to get just one lens anyways! And Otis had to save as much money as he could in preparation for this trip. Those grueling years of working minimum wage jobs are finally going to bring him, ultimately, to his goal.

“No one’s here to pick me up?” Otis looked around. When he saw a desolate and misty area, he reached into his jacket pocket and brandished his package of cigarettes and his trusty silver lighter. After lighting one up, Otis took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to unclench his jaw and roll his shoulders back so that the tension there could dissipate. Otis brushed away some of his hair out of his face, then took another hit, “How rude. I figured they were going to help me out with this luggage but I guess I’m the fool.”

It had been a couple of months since he’d gotten the invitation to go to the ever-elusive Paranormal Academy. Not that Otis ever had any doubt that he would not get in. Hell, Otis made it his life goal to get into the academy no matter the cost or consequences. He’d lost friends, opportunities, among many other things to achieve this dream of his. Otis just found all of this as a part of the path he needed to take. And it all worked out! Here he was, in the Ghastly Realm, just some moments away from the place he’d dream to be. The only problem: how the hell was he going to get there? Otis might be athletic, but he was not going to walk to the academy on foot. He needed to be sharp on arrival, or he’d fail the aptitude test. Otis looked around once more, hoping that some form of transportation might suddenly materialize in front of him.

Instead of a car or a train or even a bus, a young person who had long, elven ears phased into reality just feet away from Otis. They opened their eyes once the bubbles surrounding them fizzled out and immediately made eye contact with Otis. Now that Otis was getting a good look at them, they were clearly a hybrid--not uncommon in the Ghastly Realm, from what Otis has read. Half-elf and half-sheep, judging by the curled horns on both sides of their head. One small red bow on the left horn was the most striking feature about the hybrid creature before him. They adjusted their large framed classes and cleared their throat before speaking in a dulcet tone.

“Welcome to the Ghastly Realm. You’re Otis, I presume?”

Otis shot them a smirk, “Yep. And you must be my ride to the academy.”

“Something similar to that. Allow me to introduce myself before I begin giving you some instructions regarding your orientation, as well as how the aptitude test will be conducted,” the adjusted the collar of their outfit--which looked suspiciously similar to that of a nun, “My name is Jackie, but you will call me Mx. Tills. I am the headmaster’s assistant at the academy. We will not be in contact much after this meeting, but feel free to stop by the headmaster’s office if you have any questions regarding the academy.”

Tills continued, “As for orientation, we will walk while I talk to you,” they gestured for Otis to walk beside them. Once Tills was sure that Otis was prepared with his luggage, the two of them set off in what Otis presumed to be the direction of where the academy was, “Paranormal Academy was established during the Renaissance, merely forty years after the Ghastly Realm was formed and subsequently colonized. Students have four different study pathways and will have a mentor from that department to assist them during the orientation process.”

It was hard to follow what Tills was saying. Not only because every word that came out of their mouth was so eloquent and punctuated perfectly, but because it was almost hypnotizing as their voice was like what velvet bed sheets felt like; pleasurable, but not so overbearing that it becomes sultry. A perfect balance, which seems rather on brand for someone like Tills.

“The orientation process is simple. You will be given a brief tour of the campus, as well as provided with brochures and, as I said before, a mentor. As for the aptitude test,” Tills stopped in front of two large gates whose arches met in the center, topped off with a circular adornment with the academy’s badge in the center. They reached into the pocket of their uniform, brandishing a long iron key with that same aforementioned badge engraved. Otis eyed the shiny key with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“That thing looks vintage. Have you ever tried to make money selling this stuff?”

Tills whipped their head around, eyes emotionless but the sentiment was loud and clear through their body language, “This is school property. Therefore, I cannot sell it.”

“Jeez, it was a joke. Relax a little…”

“Anyways, the physical aptitude test begins now. Please follow me through the gate and don’t speak until spoken to. This will all be a part of the test.”

As it turns out, Paranormal Academy’s aptitude test is similar to the Overworld’s career assessments. One of the major differences between the two is that the academy’s test is also one of physical strength and endurance, rather than only simple intellectual tests. Rightfully so, as studying the paranormal phenomenon and the subsequent physiology. Otis was more interested in discovering the next big supernatural creature, though. Because he had the special spellbound glasses, Otis passed the intellectual and physiologic portions of the test with flying colors. As for the physical strength and endurance, Otis was lacking, to say the least.

“Is that all you can do?”

Otis groaned from below Tills. His face was down in a field that looked more like a cemetery than anything else. He had just attempted to do a single push up which ended in a failure and his face in the mud. Tills watched on in their usual way; like stone, their face didn’t move even a millimeter.

“Tills, is this really necessary? I mean,” Otis wheezed and clutched his side--which he found was being duly stabbed by a rock, “there’s no need for this physical stuff when I want to study the lab stuff.”

“It is a requirement of all incoming students to fully test your physical and mental capabilities,” Tills replied, scribbling rapidly on the clipboard they had brandished seemingly from thin air, “This is how we do things at the academy, questioning it is futile.”

God, this hybrid talks like a walking dictionary. Otis was smart, but not that well-spoken. He was even a little jealous that their vocabulary was so vast, but he didn’t dwell on that for too long, as Tills was leading him to the front steps of the large main academy building. The architectural style of this building is best described as collegiate gothic; taking inspiration from the overworld’s European history and has clearly branched down into the Ghastly Realm. More specifically, the design has an enormous outdoor cathedral and the long entry drive was what the two of them were standing on.

Tills climbed the marble steps swiftly. Otis tried to do the same, but found himself more trudging along than anything. They opened one of the large doors and held it open for Otis to walk through. Tills were hard to read, as they seemed expressionless the majority of the time. Otis ignored their unwavering gaze; when he was fully inside the extravagant lobby, Otis heard Tills close the doors with a loud, booming thud that reverberated throughout the building.

“Follow me. The written portion of the aptitude test will begin once I bring you to one of the special rooms.”

After a few minutes of walking and going up a flight of stairs, the two of them arrived at a large wooden door with a small sign--though the words were not readable to Otis, despite his new glasses. Tills ushered him inside, allowing him to settle in at a desk towards the front of the room. They began to pull materials out from a desk drawer; Otis made mental notes of them.

“Colored blocks…a textbook?” he whispered to himself, almost in disbelief at what he was seeing. Then again, this was Paranormal Academy. Meaning, they knew what they were doing here and Otis was in no position to question anything. Still though, Otis found it rather strange that he had yet to see any other students around the large building. His glasses were working, right?

They had to be, or else he wouldn’t have been able to walk around in here as properly as he did. But wasn’t Tills the one guiding him? Was this all a big mistake? Otis bit his lip nervously--no, he didn’t do nervous--gingerly. He needed to calm down; going into a spiral would only make the situation worse. Otis shifted his eyes around. He was actually a little shy when it came to talking to Tills. They were super intimidating and had a no-nonsense type attitude--so, completely the opposite of Otis. Great.