Paranatural - Chapter 9 Page 9

New comic!
Today's News:

That's right! After the Eightfold plush did so well, doing another was an easy choice! The FORGE PLUSH is available for pre-order RIGHT NOW! You can find it right here.

Like the Eightfold plush I did with Makeship, this is limited time only Paranatural merch. As of this post, the Forge plush will be available for just 17 more days. Right now weâre shooting for the goal of 200 sold, a threshold Iâm confident weâll clear! This is a pre-order, so Forges will go into production and start shipping out in July (dang, just missed the June ship dateâhow appropriate, Forge).

Iâll be frank: selling 1,000 Eightfolds was incredible, and its success was a HUGELY stabilizing boon that let me visit my family for the holidays and support myself through turbulent times. I donât expect to be able to grab that lightning-in-a-bottle blow-up again, but it remains extremely true that picking up a cool Forge plush from this campaign is a GREAT way to support me and Paranatural. If youâre able to afford to grab one or to help spread the word (Iâve made posts on Tumblr and elsewhere), it would be super appreciated! Thank you so much!

As Paranatural continues, I will hopefully be able to keep offering little things like this where you can pick up something fun and collectible to help support the comic, including merchandise and (I dream) little zines and such that I could make and ship myself. Iâm always open to ideas and suggestions!

Thatâs all for now! Thank you so much for reading! And thank you for your support of Patreon and Ko-fi, it is the other backbone of my daily survival. Iâm endlessly grateful!

~

[Transcript]

        âSo many happy accidents today!â grinned Devilora, sounding like sheâd seen a pleasing car crash on her way to work this morning. âHow many years has it been, young man?â

        Peter Puckett blinked.

        âOh! Youâre that... scary school librarian! How many years? Gosh, a decade and then some!â Maxâs father pointed to himself. âYou remember me?â

        âThen itâs true what they say about elephants,â Max mumbled. It was probably for the best that everyone continued to ignore his running commentary.

        âI never forget a pretty face,â the Vice Principal oozed at Maxâs father, crackling closer. âYouâll forgive me, then, for having trouble placing yours. Where is it that I know you from, young man? I only recollect that weâve crossed paths...â

        âI was a janitor at Bayview Biddle School! Before I was fired. After, um... well afterââ

        âThe fire,â Devilora finished.

        Peter Puckett chuckled awkwardly, glancing sidelong at his son. Max, thankfully, seemed unfazed by the topic. Theyâd lost June to a fireâsheâd bravely, brashly, rushed into a burning building to rescue a family friend trapped insideâwhich made the similarly torrid tale of how heâd met their mother far less joyful to recount. Perhaps his wifeâs retellings of their meet-cute had defanged the storyâs resonance somewhat, or maybe Max was simply unsurprised to hear his dad had lost a job thanks to calamitous disaster.

        âEr... yes. I left town for the mainland not too long after that.â

        Peter Puckett hadnât been directly responsible for the blaze that scorched the Biddle Schoolâs old annex... but he had let June on campus, which was pretty close to setting off a firework inside. Sheâd always blushed at the official story (faulty wiring, theyâd said, and wasnât maintenance your job, young Mr. Puckett?!), and though sheâd gotten more responsible over the years while working as a metallurgist, back then June had been a hapless drifter with a habit for both smoking and for trespassing in old, extremely flammable locations. Given everything that happened because of the accident, thoughâmeeting his future wife, for oneâand everything strange that had been happening before the school caught flame... Maxâs father couldnât exactly pretend that he had many regrets. No one was hurt, after all, and theyâd rebuilt that creepy section of the school right back from scratch.

        Rebuilt? Wait... but the annex was still standing when they put the fire out, right? Theyâd left it there, abandoned. For a second, though, he could have sworn that it had been burned all the way to the ground and then replaced. Peter Puckett wracked his mind, but in his memoryâas of this very morningâthe Blackened Annex still clung tight to Bayview Biddle School like a spider to its prey.

        âAh, but itâs all coming back to me now!â beamed Devilora. âI thought someone was missing from the Biddle Schoolâs milieu. How I missed the SCONES that Iâd extort from you!â

        âThose were free in the teacherâs loungeââ

        âAnd crumbs are free for mice. A cat still hunts.â The Vice Principal rapped sharp nails against the counter. âYes, indeed. The hunt continues...â Her nails screeched against the counterâs glass; sheâd make due with its music until she found a proper chalkboard. âI did consider retirement after that dreadful incident, and I did take a sabbatical to find myself, itâs true... but it would seem that we were BOTH compelled to return to the scene of the crime. Iâm the Vice Principal nowâa role with far less PRETENSE than my last.â Devilora flashed her deadly dentures. âI have unfinished business at the Biddle School, you see. A hunger yet unsatisfied...â

        âFor scones?â asked Maxâs dad.

        âEh-heh heh heh. Yesss. For scones.â Devilora licked her lips.

        â...Peter Puckett?â

        Between two blinks, as if it had scuttled out from beneath the shelves like a cockroach, a wallet had appeared at Principal Pleezdooâs tiny feet. Sheâd picked it up, as any good samaritan would, and had found within it the name sheâd yet to put to Peterâs face.

        âThe sweet young janitor boy! And such a charming student before that!â The Principal beamed up at Peter Puckett. âIâd never seen such, er... creative mopping. The ceiling was so clean, and the dripping after... it was like... refreshing indoor rain!â She stretched to set his wallet on the counter. âItâs me, Miss Pleezdoo! I was a guidance counselor back then! Here, you must have dropped this...â

        âFancy that,â said Devilora. âAnd here Iâd missed it, too. When it comes to fun trinkets lost low to the ground, it would appear itâs we, the tall, who come up short! Nyeh-heh heh!â

        âOh! Thank you, I... I was wondering where Iâdâthanks!â A bewildered Peter Puckett studied the wallet that Principal Pleezdoo had returned. âIâm glad to see youâre, um, still doing good deeds, Miss Pleezdoo.â

        âIn her spare time, perhaps,â grinned Devilora. âSheâs my UNDERLING these days, and itâs dark deeds that keep the naughty kids away from DRUGS and DANGER.â

        â...Iâm the principal, Devi. Iâm not yourâyouâre under meââ

        âAs a crocodile lies beneath the funny little birds that clean its teeth. A role your pretty plumage suits quite perfectly. Eh-heh heh...â

        Isaac blushed. Adult romance was a bewildering enigma. Now that he knew his favorite teacherâer, not his favorite teacher, rather, but the teacher he was forced to interact with most of allâwas kind-of-sort-of-dating the mysterious insomniac Garcia, it was like heâd gained a second set of special spectral senses. Everywhere he looked he saw potential secret romance. How messy was the drama in the teacherâs lounge? What if Mr. Starchman smooched Coach Oop? That was no concern of his, Isaac quickly reassured himself. He was cool about all this. A stalwart ally.

        Forge, meanwhile, through Johnnyâs eyes, was glaring at the throng with equal fire in his heart. There was Juneâs true love, the man sheâd fallen for so many years ago... and in the shelter of the secrets she had kept from him, unassuming Peter Puckett stood before the Witch herself in blissful ignorance. Devilora was enjoying it, this game that she was playing. Forge clenched his fists. The wicked spectral had been vanquished, exorcised of all the power she had used to prey upon the fears of Bayviewâs children. June had saved that girl sheâd haunted. Sheâd set her wrongs to right. How dare that hag returnâsomehowâand tarnish her good deeds?!

        If only he could reach her with his hatred! If only his new host could hear his voice, could wield his flamesâ

        âWell, Iâm... glad youâre both still kickinâ!â Maxâs dad said diplomatically. âI feel like you two average to a decent, ethics-neutral education. A bright boy like my Max deserves the best... but hey, youâll do! Thatâs public education.â

        âNyeh-heh heh. Yesss,â hummed Devilora. âMax and all his special friends are in GOOD HANDS... or rather, just beneath them... dangling safely from the puppet strings that DISCIPLINE provides...â

        As Vice Principal Devilora DuNachtâs creepy hands unfurled to pinch his cheeks, Max considered asking to be homeschooled for the first time in his life. Before she could get close, though... Johnnyâs hand snapped out and grabbed her by the wrist.

        âNYYYEERRCK! DETENTION!!â Devilora screeched as she recoiled. Was it just her, or was that spiky scoundrelâs touch as scalding as a stovetop?!

        âMiss Devilora, I already told you! You c-canât give out detention here!â Finally finding her courage, Principal Pleezdoo swept the Vice Principal towards the Corner Shoreâs exit like a flustered yellow roomba on a mission. âIâm so sorry, all you kids! You get enough of this at school! Devi, dear, letâs go get scones or something. Souvenir shop snacks are not a healthy breakfast! Lovely to see you again, Peter!â

        Principal Pleezdoo forced Devilora into her tiny car like a disappointing Christmas tree. Their bickering and Deviloraâs shrieking slowly faded as they drove away uphill.

        â...Are you my bully or my guard?â Max said sarcastically after a beat, turning to a Johnny mystified by his own actions.

        Forge flexed his armored fingers. Had his will controlled his host and moved his ? Or was it just that Johnny chose to move the way heâd wished...?

        â...Bully with exclusive rights,â Johnny huffed. âOld bag can get permission if she wants to freakinâ, uh... like lay a finger on your ugly weirdo face. No offense to your dad that you look like.â

        âOffense to me,â Max clarified.

        âOffense to you,â Johnny agreed.

        âThey say the worst offense is the best defense,â Maxâs father wisely said. âThe best defense for the fondness it distracts from. Iâm glad youâre making such good friends, son!â

        âYouâd say that if I fell into a shark tank at the zoo, dad,â Max replied.

        âIt was an aquarium,â his dad corrected him.

        âC-câmon, we gotta go!â Isaac cut in, barrelling between the other boys. âWeâre... weâre gonna be late for school, right? Letâs get moving!â

        With a few shrugs and sighs, the unlikely trio set out for Bayview Biddle School.