Read Online The Afterlife Academy by Frank L. Cole - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frank L. Cole
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you know to come here?” he asked Walter. How many books and magazines had Charlie read? Hundreds? There was always a chapter about safe zones. Areas where creatures couldn’t enter. Sanctuaries. He should’ve thought to use the church as a safe zone.
“Just a lucky guess. I saw something about it in a movie.” Walter fell silent for a moment. “So, seriously, who did you tick off in the Underworld?”
Charlie flinched and looked once more at the church. “What do you mean by that?”
“Everything from the dark side is trying to get you. I don’t think that happens too often.”
“That demon attacked
you,
” Charlie said defensively, stepping off the front steps of the church and back onto the lawn as the rain let up once more.
“It was trying to get rid of me, not kill me. Didn’t you hear it?”
“So? What makes you think this is my fault?” Charlie folded his arms and jumped when a stray cat shot out of one of the bushes. “My life was fine until you showed up.”
Walter laughed, and Charlie imagined the sarcastic look on the Guardian Agent’s face. “We both know none of what you just said is true. I showed up in time to save your butt.”
Charlie stomped toward the sidewalk, but stopped at the edge of the lawn, checking either direction for signs of demons. He knew Walter was right. That demon had been interested in trying to get rid of Walter. And there could be only one reason for that: to attack Charlie. Walter must be protecting him somehow.
Charlie made his way through his neighborhood and to his bedroom without any other incidents. Inside his bedroom, he walked straight to his bed and tentatively lifted his pillow. The peculiar brown book with indecipherable writing was lying just where he’d left it.
“We’re lucky it’s still here,” Charlie muttered. “If the demons wanted it so badly, why didn’t they just take it while I was at school?”
“They probably thought you took it with you. I bet that’s why that demon was waiting for you in the neighborhood.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
The box springs groaned in protest as Charlie plopped onto his bed and sifted through a couple pages, thinking things through. He noticed an unsettling silence in his room. Normally, he could hear the methodical hum of his alarm clock, or the air conditioner kicking on and rattling the vents. The Dewdles’ apartment complex had been built in the seventies, and the wooden floorboards naturally popped.
No sounds. No disruptions. Just silence.
Charlie stood and walked to the study. He’d missed computer lab, but maybe Walter was right. What his parents didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. Charlie grasped the door handle and started to turn it, but it stuck.
“I can’t believe they locked the door! I thought they trusted me,” Charlie moaned.
“Guess they know better.”
Charlie rubbed his chin in thought. “I’ll ask my Spanish teacher tomorrow if she recognizes the language.”
“That’s almost twenty-four hours away!”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
Walter did not. At the moment, it would have to do.
H oonga and Trutti sat at a table playing a rousing game of Bones. Unfamiliar to human beings, the game of Bones was played a lot like Jenga. Players took turns and attempted to remove pieces from a tower. The first player to knock over the tower lost. But unlike Jenga, instead of using a stack of wooden blocks, the game was played with actual bones. Fingers, toes, and ribs worked the best.
In general, demons despised any human recreational activity. Sports, arts and crafts, painting, and games made Underworld creatures squirm with discomfort. Hoonga always kept plenty of games on hand whenever the situation necessitated some good old-fashioned torture. Though he would never admit it, the Cyclops had actually grown quite fond of playing a few of them, but he had to make some minor tweaks to disguise them from the other demons.
Hoonga clamped a hand over his lips to stifle a laugh
“Just a lucky guess. I saw something about it in a movie.” Walter fell silent for a moment. “So, seriously, who did you tick off in the Underworld?”
Charlie flinched and looked once more at the church. “What do you mean by that?”
“Everything from the dark side is trying to get you. I don’t think that happens too often.”
“That demon attacked
you,
” Charlie said defensively, stepping off the front steps of the church and back onto the lawn as the rain let up once more.
“It was trying to get rid of me, not kill me. Didn’t you hear it?”
“So? What makes you think this is my fault?” Charlie folded his arms and jumped when a stray cat shot out of one of the bushes. “My life was fine until you showed up.”
Walter laughed, and Charlie imagined the sarcastic look on the Guardian Agent’s face. “We both know none of what you just said is true. I showed up in time to save your butt.”
Charlie stomped toward the sidewalk, but stopped at the edge of the lawn, checking either direction for signs of demons. He knew Walter was right. That demon had been interested in trying to get rid of Walter. And there could be only one reason for that: to attack Charlie. Walter must be protecting him somehow.
Charlie made his way through his neighborhood and to his bedroom without any other incidents. Inside his bedroom, he walked straight to his bed and tentatively lifted his pillow. The peculiar brown book with indecipherable writing was lying just where he’d left it.
“We’re lucky it’s still here,” Charlie muttered. “If the demons wanted it so badly, why didn’t they just take it while I was at school?”
“They probably thought you took it with you. I bet that’s why that demon was waiting for you in the neighborhood.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
The box springs groaned in protest as Charlie plopped onto his bed and sifted through a couple pages, thinking things through. He noticed an unsettling silence in his room. Normally, he could hear the methodical hum of his alarm clock, or the air conditioner kicking on and rattling the vents. The Dewdles’ apartment complex had been built in the seventies, and the wooden floorboards naturally popped.
No sounds. No disruptions. Just silence.
Charlie stood and walked to the study. He’d missed computer lab, but maybe Walter was right. What his parents didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. Charlie grasped the door handle and started to turn it, but it stuck.
“I can’t believe they locked the door! I thought they trusted me,” Charlie moaned.
“Guess they know better.”
Charlie rubbed his chin in thought. “I’ll ask my Spanish teacher tomorrow if she recognizes the language.”
“That’s almost twenty-four hours away!”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
Walter did not. At the moment, it would have to do.
H oonga and Trutti sat at a table playing a rousing game of Bones. Unfamiliar to human beings, the game of Bones was played a lot like Jenga. Players took turns and attempted to remove pieces from a tower. The first player to knock over the tower lost. But unlike Jenga, instead of using a stack of wooden blocks, the game was played with actual bones. Fingers, toes, and ribs worked the best.
In general, demons despised any human recreational activity. Sports, arts and crafts, painting, and games made Underworld creatures squirm with discomfort. Hoonga always kept plenty of games on hand whenever the situation necessitated some good old-fashioned torture. Though he would never admit it, the Cyclops had actually grown quite fond of playing a few of them, but he had to make some minor tweaks to disguise them from the other demons.
Hoonga clamped a hand over his lips to stifle a laugh
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