Greetings and welcome to chapter 6 of Strange Days At X High School! I apologize for the long wait! Big thank you to my co-authors for this chapter, Moheart7 and ellameno! They're amazing writers! Check them out after this! That being said, on with the story!


As they continued to run for their lives through the alleyways, Fillmore and Ingrid just couldn't shake the glowing dogs as they continuously snapped at their heels. They didn't know how long they had been running for, or for how much longer they needed to in order to escape, but it soon became apparent to the both of them that they were getting exhausted pretty fast, a lot quicker than the demonic canines seemed to be. If they didn't find a way out of this soon, the pair of them were going to collapse from fatigue and these hellhounds were going to have an easy meal. Before long, however, Lady Luck proved to be completely against them as they turned one final corner, gasping in horror as they both ended up running into a brick wall!

"Come on, we can-" Fillmore tried to say, turning around in an attempt to double back, before jumping in shock upon seeing that the ghostly pack finally caught up with them.

Before the pair of them even realised it, Ingrid and Fillmore had their backs literally up against the wall as the eerie green hounds edged ever closer towards them, their mouths salivating with ravenous hunger.

"Don't suppose you got a squeaky toy on you?" Fillmore asked, his sarcastic quipping becoming a coping mechanism in the face of apparent death.

"Fresh out, sorry," Ingrid replied in kind.

As the dogs drew closer and closer, large beads of sweat dripped down from both Fillmore and Ingrid's brows as the dread in their hearts quickly intensified. Soon enough, the alpha of the pack was crouching a mere foot from the pair of them, its steaming saliva dripping to the concrete at its feet as it fixated its gaze on Ingrid in particular. Unable to find a way out, all either of them could do was close their eyes and wait for the inevitable. And then, they heard it.

"The Sacred Cross commands you. The Star of David commands you. The Omkar, the Lotus, and the Shahada command you! Flee this place! Disperges in ventum! Be not, and be gone!"

At the sound of that voice, both pairs of eyes shot wide open and suddenly Fillmore and Ingrid snapped their heads upward to see a figure standing atop of the wall just above them, their silhouette standing out in front of the moonlight. Moments later, the ground behind the pack suddenly began to crumble, an eerie red light seeping through the cracks as it collapsed in on itself. Before they even realised what was going on, the hounds were forcefully pulled back towards the new gaping hole in the ground, red bursts of flame swirling within its depths like a vortex. Even as they whimpered and tried their best to claw at the ground for some kind of anchor, the hounds' efforts proved to be in vain as they all soon fell into the strange portal one by one. As the alpha clinged over the edge, being the very last to fall through, the only thing Fillmore and Third heard from it after that was its final painful howl just before the ground suddenly reformed itself, sealing itself entirely and leaving naught but a flat surface, as if the portal had not even existed to begin with.

Their eyes snapped wide open, both Ingrid and Fillmore found themselves completely flabbergasted over what had just occurred. Before they even had a chance to say a word, the figure suddenly jumped down off the wall and landed just a few feet away from them.

"Bugger me," he said, his back still turned to the pair of them as he straightened himself out. "You certainly got yourself into a right pickle, didn't ya, Third?"

The moment she heard that voice, Ingrid let out a small gasp as a series of events began flashing through her photographic memory. From his shimmering black hair, to his cocky smile, she knew in an instant who this new arrival was.

"Michael?" she uttered.

"Hello Ingrid, it's been a while," the black-haired boy said with a somewhat charming smirk.

Ingrid slowly made her way up to the older boy and once she was within arms reach of him… She slapped Michael right across the face with a loud smack.

"Ow! Bloody hell, Ingrid!" Michael exclaimed, instinctively putting a hand upon his now throbbing cheek.

"That's for sending us on a wild goose chase to find you, Michael!" Ingrid scolded him, somewhat surprising Fillmore with her tone, almost like that of a mother scolding a child. "I mean, honestly, I shouldn't be surprised that you'd show up at the last second to save the day,"

"Ingrid, calm down, what the blazes are you on about?!" Michael said, putting up a hand in defense.

"We've been looking for you for the past couple of days. I was worried sick when I couldn't get in contact with you! Do you know what all's been going on?!" Ingrid said, about to deliver another smack to Solomon's cheek meat, when Michael intercepted her at the wrist before looking her dead in the eye, an incredibly serious look within his own.

"More than you do, in all likelihood, Third," he replied, "Come on, I'll try and fill in the details along the way back to my hotel, then you can give me a lift back to The House," Michael said, leading the two officers out of the alley, as if nothing had just happened.

"Hold up a sec," Fillmore spoke up, getting Michael's attention, "Just what the heck were those things!?"

"That, my friend, was a pack of Barghests, or Hellhounds, if you'd like. Either way, you'd still end up with something out of a nightmare. And I'll bet you a tenner that I know who let the miserable buggers out of the pit."

"Who?" Ingrid asked, raising an eyebrow

"Please hold all questions until we get to the hotel," Michael retorted, shifting his gaze up and down the street to make sure the coast was clear. "All I'll say right now is that chances are if someone sent that pack after you and find out they didn't finish the job, then they might end up sending something else to take their place."

Those were the last words Michael said before leading the pair up the street to this supposed hotel. Lagging behind a little as they followed, Fillmore couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh.

"Dawg! Psychics, Demon Dogs, next you'll be telling me that our old Principal was actually a witch with an owl complex," he muttered.

"Oh don't be so dramatic, Fillmore," Ingrid replied, rolling her eyes and causing Fillmore to chuckle a little.

"Sorry, running for my life kinda got me antsy," he said, trying to lighten the mood a little.

It took about 15 minutes for all three of them to arrive at, in Fillmore and Ingrid's opinion, one of the swankiest hotels either teen had ever seen. Needless to say, both couldn't help but feel a little impressed at Michael's choice of accommodation.

"Nice place," Ingrid commented, before she and Fillmore followed Michael inside.

Strolling across the lobby, not even bothering to talk to the woman at the reception desk, Michael then led the two into the elevator. After an uncomfortable lift that was carried out in silence, the elevator doors finally opened on the 10th floor, allowing everyone to climb out into a well decorated hallway with gold wallpaper. Walking down the hall along the freshly cleaned red carpet, they eventually stopped at one particular door.

"Here we are, chaps," Michael said, pulling out a key card from his pocket. "My room."

"The honeymoon suite?" Ingird inquired, raising an eyebrow as she quickly took notice of the red, heart-shaped plaque on the front of the door.

"I always get the honeymoon suite," Micahel replied, giving a small shrug. "There's lots of extra space, good energy to the atmosphere, plus no one would even think to look for a single bloke in a place like this."

"Well… he's not wrong," Fillmore admitted, seeing some sense to Michael's logic.

Stepping inside, the trio were met with a surprisingly well-kept room with a few odds and ends strewn about the place such as clothes, a suitcase, and other bits and bobs.

"Looks like you've been here for a while," Ingrid observed.

"Not as long as you may think, luv. Can't stay in one place for too long given my line of work. You know that," Michael replied as he began to go about the room and gather up his belongings and pack them away into the purple piece of carry-on luggage.

"Now can we ask what's going on?" Fillmore asked.

"Again, it'll have to wait, mate. So long as we're here, we're basically defenseless. We'll need to get back to The House first, then I'll answer your questions."

Growing tired of this game, Ingrid stepped forward, "Michael, I know you wizards have this whole 'sworn to mystery' deal, but this whole game is getting old real fast. So either tell us what's going on, or I break out the ace up my sleeve and make you tell us."

Stopping cold for a second, Michael turned to Ingrid with a small glare, "You wouldn't dare, Third."

"Oh, but I would. I have a friend who's sick and needs my help. Don't think I'm out of practice, Michael. Remember, I have a photographic memory," Ingrid retorted.

Closing the suitcase, Michael let out a sigh as he turned and smirked at the girl, "You always knew how to push others' buttons, Ingrid," He said as he zipped up his suitcase. "The one behind all that's been going on. The one behind those quote un-quote 'pranks' at the school and the one who set those Barghests on you a little bit ago… was none other than your old pal, Parnassus."

Fillmore scoffed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"But how is he involved in this, exactly?" Ingrid asked, "Why would he be pulling elaborate pranks at the school?"

"That's the thing. He's not the one pulling the pranks," Michael said as he lifted up his suitcase and headed for the door, the pair of officers following close behind, "Some time ago, he came into possession of a powerful book of spells. They call it The Magdalene Grimoire. A few weeks ago, he began studying the book and began to grasp its principles. He tested his knowledge by summoning a pair of Imps from the depths of The Inferno."

"Okay, but why target the school, exactly," Fillmore asked as they entered the elevator, somewhat following the story.

"He didn't set them on the school himself. That just happened to be a happy accident. You see, Imps are attracted to misery, and what better source than the world of teenage drama and sorrow that is high school?" Michael replied.

"How do we get rid of them?" Ingrid implored as they descended.

"Just leave that all up to me, luv. First thing's first: we need to get back to my place so I can get the supplies I need to help your friend. If what I think is happening to him is happening, we'll need to work fast. Either of you got a car?"

"Yeah, it's parked a couple of blocks up the street from here," Fillmore answered.

"Good. You can drive," Michael responded.

With the ding of the elevator reaching the lobby once more, the trio exited and headed out the door, heading towards Fillmore's car.


Upon getting back to the car, another awkward silence set in as the trio drove through the night. Ingrid being a bit anxious at having the two men meet for the first time. She wished it were under better circumstances, but beggars can't be choosers, as they say.

A few minutes passed when, to Ingrid's surprise, Fillmore broke the silence between them.

"So," he began, "How exactly did you two get to know one another? Ingrid told me her side of the story, but what's your take on it, Solomon?"

"No need for formalities, Officer Fillmore. Call me Michael," he replied in kind, meeting Fillmore's gaze in the rearview.

"So you know of me?" Fillmore asked.

"Oh please, who at X Middle or High School hasn't heard of 'Cornelius Fillmore: Safety Patrol Supercop'?" Michael asked with a smirk before looking out the passenger-side window, "But to answer your question, we met at a concert a couple years back. Knowing her, and the events of tonight, she probably told you about how she lost her memory and regained them after seeking me out. After she found me, I treated her to coffee and an explanation of all that's happened and introduced her to my world. A little later, I found out that she was showing flashes of precognition, retrocognition, and clairtangency. Needless to say, she was a real 'bitsa'."

"Come again?" Fillmore asked, glancing back at Michael, hoping he didn't just say what he thought he said. Ingrid shot him a "play nice" look from her seat next to him.

"You know? A bitsa. A bit of this? A bit of that? She had a bit of everything going on with her," Michael clarified.

"Oh," Fillmore muttered, though his eyes remained narrowed at him in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, she's a regular psychic smorgasbord, this one. Can pick up impressions from any tactile stimuli." Solomon's eyebrows furrowed, as if in realization. "Which I'm guessing will be kind of a buzzkill in the sack later in life…" he muttered. This earned him another hard glare from Fillmore as well as a deep blush from Ingrid at how brash Michael was being about such a subject.

"You wish you'd gotten the opportunity to figure that out," Ingrid seethed.

Fillmore gaped at her, while Solomon shrugged, a smug grin on his lips. "You got me there, luv."

"Wait," Fillmore interrupted, "you mean you two-"

"Dated, yes," Ingrid blurted. She crossed her arms and looked out the window to avoid his gaze. "And before you ask, it wasn't that serious."

Solomon placed a hand over his chest, as if he were wounded. "Ouch, Hecate. I forgot how cold you could be."

"Okay, I gotta ask. What's this whole 'Hecate' thing about?" Fillmore asked in confusion.

With a deep sigh, Ingrid spoke, "The Hecate, also known as The Weird Sisters, is an ancient goddess commonly associated with Magic, sometimes even referred to as the Goddess of Magic. I got the nickname because they're also known as 'The One Who Is Three'. Get it? Ingrid Third?"

"Aw, come on, luv. You gotta admit it was pretty clever a title at the time?" Michael said with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes. "Very original."

"I forgot how grumpy you could be, too," Solomon whacked Fillmore in the shoulder. "Good luck with that, bruv."

Before Fillmore could respond, Ingrid turned on him. "Maybe I'm grumpy because one of my friends is at home sick with some mystery illness and you're so busy trying to be 'cool and enigmatic that I'm half tempted to hand you over to Parnassus myself."

Solomon's glare matched hers, and Fillmore swore the temperature in the car dropped a few degrees. "How many times do I have to say it: it's not safe to talk yet. It figures you still can't stand the idea of someone else protecting you."

"And how many times do I have to tell you that I don't need protecting!" she yelled, leaning over her seat towards him. "I'm the one who saved your ass from that Fiend, if you recall!"

Solomon scoffed. "And I just saved both of yours. Those Barghests would've eaten you alive if I hadn't shown up. And picked your flesh out of their teeth with your partner's pretty bones." He leaned back against his seat and crossed his arms, "I think a 'thank you' wouldn't be too much to ask for."

Ingrid's glare turned sharp. "You smug-"

"Okay, that's enough!" Fillmore snapped, effectively silencing her. "We don't have time for this. Anza needs our help, not to mention whoever else could get sick if you two don't knock it off."

With that, the two shut their mouths and just brooded in silence until Fillmore finally pulled up to the empty lot from earlier that day.

"I believe we're here," Fillmore said simply as they all exited the car to the vacant yard where Michael supposedly lived.

"I still don't get how you can live here, Michael," Fillmore spoke up, "There's nothing here."

"Then you've learned nothing after all that's happened in the past couple of days," Michael responded as he raised his right hand, "You might wanna stand back," he said before he snapped his fingers.

From nowhere, illuminated by the bright moonlight and the stars above, a house began to form in the lot. First came the foundation, then the outline, before it began to rapidly put itself together, brick by brick, plank by plank, and shingle by shingle. Windows appeared in newly formed sills before being covered by wooden shutters. A front porch formed by the front door, complete with a bench and banister as Michael began to make his way forward.

"Cornelius Fillmore, welcome to The House of Mystery," Michael introduced as the house finished forming.


Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Fav, follow, and review! Hopefully the next chapter will be here soon, but no promises. That being said, this is Lord Zeppelin signing off!