R.A.T.S.

It was, as they say, a dark and stormy night. A full moon always marked the first night of preschool at the Regional Academy of Terror and the Supernatural. Despite relentless cloud cover, this year’s moon stood sentry as lightning rumbled throughout the evening sky. This was traditionally a time of raised spirits, and the anthem howl of resident werewolves was fitting welcome as families made their way up Ghoul Hill.

The school grounds boasted a monstrous haunted oak where vampire children could hang for nightly naps. Fledgling ghosts and goblins enjoyed the tree during recesses when they could play poof and go haunt or musical limbs.

Witches-in-training were allowed to use their broomsticks at recess but only if they did not venture outside the school zone. Most preferred to visit their kittens at the Black Cat Training Facility anyway, so there was little cause for concern.

Zombies were confined to a heavily fenced and closely guarded area. The academy was the first of its kind to take on the troublesome terrors. Modern thinking was close proximity to general population could potentially desensitize and help instill in zombie children some modicum of control.

* * *

Raven stopped to inspect her appearance in the hallway mirror before stepping out for the first night of her new assignment. She trained her working eye beyond her reflection to the framed parchment mounted on the wall behind her. She grinned at her name, Raven R. Rotwood, beneath the words “Certificate of Restraint,” a recent accomplishment awarded her through the Association of Zombie Conformity and Gentrification. Following that honor, she had been approached to spearhead a pilot program for a zombie wing at the local preschool, coined R.A.T.S.

This was a position Raven had aspired to since joining the ranks of the undead. She saw growing potential within the zombie population that others missed. Her pet project had been developing methods to curb the mob mentality zombies seemed “born” with. Raven personally had never been a follower and she relished the notion of leading her community into a new age of acceptance and opportunity. Now, if only they could be taught to think for themselves.

She had just enough hair left on her scalp to fashion into a loose twist that she fashioned with a thin scarf. The last time she’d attempted makeup, she’d almost lost half her lip and an eyelid, and so opted for a more natural look.

“Guess it’ll just have to do,” she grinned. All things considered, she was well put together.

* * *

“Are there really going to be zombies in class, mother?”

Count Constantin and his wife, the Countess Agrippina, were accompanying their young spawn, Andrei, to his classroom.

“No, dear. The zombie children are to be held in their own area.”

“That’s too bad.”

The Count’s eyes flashed.

“It is as it should be! Never forget, Andrei, zombies have despicable eating habits, barbaric, and very little finesse or self-awareness in general. You don’t want to acquire bad habits.”

The Count’s eyes softened. He hesitated before continuing.

“Unless, of course, it’s a nun.”

Andrei slapped his hand over his mouth and sniggered.

Following a carefully timed beat, father and son chimed, “They supposedly taste divine!”

Countess Agrippina rolled her eyes, then knelt to look her offspring straight in the eye.

“Promise me, Andrei, you will not quote your father in class.”

Andrei flashed two happy fangs at his father.

“He is pretty funny though.”

“He can be, I supposed,” the Countess allowed, as her crimson eyes betrayed a tiny twinkle, “but not always entirely appropriate. Time and place, darling. Promise me.”

“And no fraternizing with zombies, Andrei. This is serious. Those urchin underlings will only make you look bad,” the Count added.

“I promise.”

“Good little bat.”

* * *

The R.A.T.S. faculty pit was buzzing.

Principal Arthro Pod was about to deliver his annual address to faculty and staff. He focused two out of his eight compound eyes on the group gathered before him and rubbed his singing antennae together to get everyone’s attention.

“Another flip of the hourglass and here we are! Welcome once again to the Regional Academy of Terror and the Supernatural Preschool to our returning staff and faculty and a special welcome to our newest members.

Here to oversee the Feeding Stations, we have Midge and Chigger Cocklebur. These gristly gourmets come highly seasoned for the position and we look forward to sampling their wares.

Now, let us welcome Raven Rotwood, our most recent new hire. Mz. Rotwood recently attained her self-control certification and has been hired to institute a groundbreaking curriculum entitled Zombie Destiny here at R.A.T.S, the very first of its kind. We are honored and privileged to have Ms. Rotwood onboard.

Now, I trust you’ve all prepared well for this maiden voyage into the academic and social advancement of our young charges. I urge you all to meticulously follow the curriculum approved for each of your classes.

Remember our institution’s timeless motto: A great evil is a terrible thing to waste.

There is no time like the present to exert our best efforts in helping to prepare Les Enfants Terribles for the vast array of terrors and supernatural wonders that await them.

Report to your classrooms. Teach them well.”

* * *

The death knell tolled evening recess following Andrei’s initial class of introductions and instructions.

His classmates filed out of the classroom, scattering in every direction. Everyone was anxious to blow off steam and explore their new playground.

Andrei didn’t feel like getting to know the other vampire pups just yet. He’d never been without his own family nearby and it was beginning to bother him. He walked a short distance and, as he came to a corner of the building, ducked out of sight.

He glanced around, hoping no one had noticed, then stopped himself.

It’s not like I’m hiding anything.

“Hey kid! Who you hiding from?”

Andrei bristled.

“I’m not hiding!”

He turned to see a boy about his age alone behind some fencing. He had spiky hair, pinprick eyes with dark shadows. His clothes were tattered and stained but he displayed a disarmingly killer smile.

“What are you smiling at?” Andrei demanded.

“You tell me.”

Andrei reared up and hissed, exposing his fangs. He struck a menacing pose, or so he thought.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Andrei slumped.

“Maybe. So what have you got?”

“You think you can handle it?”

“Try me!”

“Can you keep it to yourself?”

“There is nothing I cannot do!”

“Cut the camp, please. You sound fake.”

“You dare to . . .” Andrei began, then stopped.

“Okay, yup.”

“Wanna sit?”

“Should I?”

“Up to you.”

The boy behind the fence sat.

“I am Andrei, spawn of the great Count . . .”

“Stop! Andrei. That’s all I need.”

Andrei sat.

“You?”

“Rene. So you know I’m zombie, right?”

“I thought so. I’m vampire, even if you weren’t impressed.”

“You weren’t bad actually. I like messing with dead heads. That’s just me.”

“Why aren’t you with your . . . others?”

“Same as you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re different.”

“I never said anything about being different.”

“You don’t have to. Takes one to know one.”

Andrei looked down at his perfectly manicured fingernails.

“And just what is it you think you know?”

“I’m a new breed. Took me a while to figure it out.”

Andrei studied the boy. He appeared earnest.

“So, how are you so different?”

Rene looked around, lowered his eyes and whispered.

“Vegan.”

“You are not!”

Rene look Andrei right in the eye. Then Andrei whispered.

“So am I.”

Just then the knell tolled, signaling that recess was over.

“We’d better . . .”

“Hey,” Rene stopped him, “we can be a little late. I want to hear how and what you feed on. You look good.”

Andrei settled back.

“Maybe a couple more minutes.”

* * *

Back in Raven’s class, she watched as her zombie kids were secured to their desks with the help of specially-trained teaching assistants.

“Children! This has been explained to you. Unless and until any of you show a sign, anything that supports the notion you possess any degree of self-restraint, the chains must remain while you are indoors. There’s no sense getting emotional about it.”

One of the larger students screeched and pulled his chains. A small fissure opened in the floor. The chain cuffed to his clenched fist threatened to break free.

“Class, Mz. Pestilentia is in charge while I’m gone. Please show her the same polite courtesy you’ve shown me!”

Raven motioned to the teacher’s aide and whispered.

“Pod demanded I report anything to him directly. Just hold down the fort.”

“I will, if you'll hurry!”

With that, Raven flew out the door.

On her way to Principal Pod’s office, she passed several windows that overlooked the campus playground. Just out of the corner of her good eye, she caught movement where there shouldn’t be any. An instinct told her not to ignore it.

There, in a small alcove between a corner of the building and the fenced area behind her classroom, she saw one of her students, Rene, seated close to a vampire child. They appeared to be quietly conversing; she could just make out muted singing and chortling.

Raven watched a few more seconds, then smiled. She turned and headed back to her class.

When she reached the door, she saw Daphne standing on the teacher’s desk. Raven, with new resolve, entered.

She closed her eyes and began a lullaby her mother had sung to her when she was mortal. She'd modified the lyrics to fit her audience.

“Hush, my zombies, peace attend thee

All through the dark,

Guarding demons I will send thee

All through the dark,

Detached zombie limbs are creeping

Hill and dale with life’s blood seeping,

I my dead one’s crypt am keeping

All through the dark.”

Gradually, the throng settled, the protests ceased. Daphne appeared beside Raven and touched her arm carefully.

“Looks like naptime. Well done.”

“We need music in here. I’ll see Pod about it.”

* * *

"Wanna meet back here tomorrow?”

“Sure. Hey, I was thinking.”

“What?”

“It’s so weird. We shouldn’t even be talking.”

“I know! My dad says vamps are privileged, high-maintenance snobs who don’t even know their blood’s not blue.”

“My father says zombies are low class, slovenly parasites with nothing but bad habits to show for it.”

“Well, that’s only if they’re nuns.”

Andrei smiled, delighted.

“They’re supposed to taste divine!”

Following an exchange of muffled laughs and mutual shushing, the boys snuck back to their respective classrooms.

* * *

Rene waited patiently for Mz. Rotwood to tell him why he’d been held back, though he had an idea. Finally she approached Rene’s desk and sat facing him.

“So, Rene, how was your first day?”

Rene grunted the usual zombie response. He even drooled a little from the side of his mouth.

“You don’t need to pretend, Rene. Not with me.”

The young zombie froze.

Rene jerked his face towards Raven and gave her a zombie huh?

“Would you like to know how I knew I was different?”

Rene raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, same as you probably. I just knew. I see myself in you, Rene. That touch of humanity is hard to mask. I couldn’t hide it, so I decided to cultivate it.”

Rene pulled a thread from his frayed shirtsleeve.

“How did you get others to believe you?”

“You can’t, not really. They either do or they don’t. I just want you to know that you are not alone.”

“I feel like I’m letting my family down.”

“Have you tried talking to them?”

“All I get is, who do you think you are, a snooty blood-sucker? Stop pretending to sound like one.”

“Well, I’ll help if I can. I understand what you’re going through.”

“Thanks. I sort of feel better, I think.”

“You looked pretty happy at recess.”

Rene startled, then raised his eyes to meet Raven’s.

“Oh.”

“We won’t discuss it right now. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything, or just to talk.”

“What if I should come off like a snooty blood-sucker?”

Raven looked at Rene evenly and leaned slightly forward.

“Let me share a little secret with you, Rene. Vampires aren’t any bigger of a deal than we are, and we’re not any bigger of a deal than them.”

* * *

The zombie and the vampire spent every recess together laughing and goofing around. Raven kept an eye out, figuratively, and exercised little diversions when necessary so the friendship could develop naturally.

She realized it was only a matter of time before it would be discovered. Raven was lost as far as what, and if, there was anything she could do about any of it, including her own culpability.

Time passed.

One night, recess had begun but Rene wasn’t at the fence. Andrei took a seat and waited. Minutes ticked by.

Andrei's thoughts distracted him just long enough for a gang of zombie kids to gather without him noticing. Then they all began shrieking at once.

“Wwwwwwaaaaa ooooooowwwww uuuaaaiiiiiiiiinn foooooooorrrr?”

Andrei scrambled to his feet just as Raven came up behind him. She grasped him by his shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

Andrei’s eyes were huge. He nodded.

Raven placed herself between Andrei and the fence.

“Class! Silence, please. Silence!”

The group, hearing the voice of their teacher, began to quiet down. They slouched back into raggedy posture, waiting for further instruction.

“Back to class, everyone!”

Slowly, one by one, the crowd dispersed.

“You’re Mz. Rotwood.”

Raven smiled.

“You’re Andrei.”

Andrei blushed.

“Rene told me about you. Where is he?”

“Come with me, unless you’d rather not.”

“I want to.”

When they reached Raven’s classroom, the children were all back at their desks, loosely shackled and quiet. As Andrei entered, the room took on a troubled, anxious rumbling. Raven had prepared for this.

“Good work, class! I am pleased, very pleased to see how in control you all are. This is good.”

The rumbling tapered off, then ceased.

“You are in command of your thoughts. You are in command of your actions. You are capable individuals.”

Without a hint of warning, Principal Pod burst into the classroom, eyes darting about in all directions.

“Principal Pod, how nice of you to stop by!”

Pod tried keeping his reply low and steady, an obvious chore for him.

”What, in the name of all that is vile, was that shrieking? All of Ghouls Hill could hear! Half the student population and faculty have headed for the bunkers! What have you to say?”

“The curriculum works.”

Pod’s jaw dislocated and hit the floor. After collecting it, and himself, he spewed a single word.

“Explain!”

“As you know, the goal of this class is to instill self-control. For that to happen, certain factors need to be addressed. Let’s call on one of our advanced students. What is the first step toward mastering self-control? Rene.”

Rene stood.

“Step one, acknowledge your weaknesses.”

“Excellent, Rene.”

Andrei, who’d been hiding behind Raven’s desk, peeked over the desktop upon hearing his friend’s voice. When Rene saw him, he grinned his killer grin. Andrei wiggled his fingers in greeting.

This time there came not just a rumble but an explosion, from Principal Pod.

“A VAMPIRE in the same classroom as . . . oh, now you’ve gone too far! This was never approved! This never even crossed my desk! Heads will roll! Do you have any idea what the ramifications can be to something like this? I mean, mixing . . .”

“When you're finished, I will be happy to explain, again.”

Huffing and puffing, the red-faced principal gestured for Raven to try.

“You have just been witness to a young zombie exhibiting what I consider great potential for earning a certificate of restraint.”

Pod withdrew a handkerchief from one of multiple pockets and wiped his forehead and antennae.

“That’s all very well for the boy . . .”

“It certainly wouldn’t harm this institute’s reputation, would it? And you, as principal, I imagine would be celebrated as a very beacon of advanced education.”

Pod’s spindly legs wobbled and gave way just as Daphne slid a chair under and caught his caboose just in time.

Raven continued. “You have also seen for yourself how well my class behaves in the face of several disturbing outbursts.”

“But, but what have you to say about THAT?”

Pod pointed to Andrei, merrily spinning and humming in the teacher’s chair.

“Well, and isn’t that the best way to test self-restraint, to be in close proximity to that which tempts the inner beast to bite? We are so fortunate to have a brave volunteer who has agreed to help the program during recesses. His assistance will be invaluable, I assure you.”

Principal Pod swallowed.

“This, I’m sure you know, is Andrei, son of Constantin and Agrippina. I believe the Count and Countess should be applauded and Andrei awarded extra credit for his contribution.”

Pod had no idea what to do. He rose gingerly from his chair.

“I will leave you now. Oh, one last thing, just what was that apocalyptic caterwauling that started all this?”

“Nothing really. It’s good now and then to let them howl a little.”

Principal Pod stared at Raven another moment before mumbling to himself something about “revising the handbook” and “commendations for breaking the rules.” He then teetered away.

* * *

“Rene, may I see you at my desk, please?”

Andrei returned the teacher’s chair to Raven. She sat, huddled with the two boys, and whispered.

“We were very fortunate, boys. The plan worked this time. You shouldn’t have any trouble during recesses now, but no one can say how things will go in the future.”

Rene spoke first.

“Mz. Rotwood?”

“Yes, Rene.”

“Did you mean what you said about . . .”

“Every word. You have some cultivating to do but, with guidance and perseverance, you can do it.”

Rene puffed out his chest and looked at Andrei.

“What do you think the Count would say about me now?”

Andrei smiled at his friend.

“Small bites, Rene. Small bites.”