Nightmare Academy: Monster War

Part I

Attack of the Fifth

Chapter One

The War Begins

Like most big and terrible things, the war between the people of Earth and the monsters of the Nether started out small.

At first there were just a few isolated attacks. A group of hikers in Maui were set upon by a pack of Dangeroos. The filthy kangaroolike beasts stuffed the screaming humans into their pouches and then hopped off into the dense and humid jungle.

The hikers were never seen again.

Several postal workers in the small town of Con-yers, Georgia, were bitten by one-eyed serpents that lay coiled in mailboxes. The shiny purple beasts came to be known as Yeller-Swellers, because their bite caused people to yell loudly in pain and then swell up like giant marshmallows.

Fortunately, the swelling was only temporary.

Unfortunately, when the victims shrank back down, they didn’t stop shrinking until they were half their original size.

Even the president of the United States was a victim of a monster attack.

Although he had some of the best protection provided to anyone on the planet, nothing could protect him from his own nightmares. While sleeping in the presidential suite in the White House, he dreamed that he was walking through his old elementary school completely naked. Everyone pointed at him and laughed—his teachers, his parents, and even his dog, Herbert. In fact, Herbert’s laughter was so cruel and mean-spirited that it caused the president to have a panic attack; and, quite unconsciously, he opened a fiery purple portal to the Netherworld.

A Mimic slithered through.

Using its long arms and fingers, it quickly abducted the man, stashed him in the closet, and then changed form to mimic him so precisely that even the president’s wife couldn’t tell the difference, although she did mention that he smelled strongly of cinnamon—a common trait of Mimics.

That afternoon, the thing that looked like the president held a press conference. In front of the entire world, it began rhyming like an insane Dr. Seuss, telling everyone that the "Monsters are why we’re all gonna die—so let’s just eat pie. Good-bye!" Then the creature did backflips through the astonished throng of reporters until its true identity was revealed when it knocked over a water bottle and the resulting splash of liquid caused its skin to melt away like candle wax.

After the monster was captured and destroyed, the real president was rescued. The shaken man wasted no time before holding another press conference to explain to the world that no one should panic and that things were completely under control.

But they weren’t.

Sitting in his parents’ apartment in Brooklyn, Charlie Benjamin watched TV with growing anxiety as CNN showed endless reports of Nethercreatures rampaging through cities around the globe. Flocks of Hags spiraled out of a nighttime sky to snatch entire football teams from their stadiums—the starting lineup of the Dallas Cowboys was the most recent casualty. Gremlins gorged themselves on power cables at plants throughout the world, plunging entire cities into darkness. In fact, Tokyo was just now recovering from a Gremlin-caused blackout.

The fear these attacks inspired caused millions of nightmares in people across the planet. In turn, those nightmares opened portals to the Netherworld, allowing an incredible influx of new monsters to pour through. Charlie had been taught in his Monster Invasion: What You Can Do About It class that this was called the Snowball Effect. But to learn about it in a schoolroom was one thing; seeing it in action was something terrifyingly different.

Horrible, horrible . . . , Charlie’s father, Barrington, muttered as he watched the attacks unfold.

Yes, indeed, his wife, Olga, agreed. She smoothed her dress and sighed heavily. Why are they doing this to us, Charlie?

Because they can.

He knew the answer wasn’t very satisfying, but it was true. The monsters were attacking because it was in their nature to attack—it was simply what they were born to do, and they were doing it now with terrifying gusto.

And all because of me, Charlie thought glumly, although he didn’t say it.

The attack of the monsters of the Nether wasn’t his fault, not really, but he’d certainly contributed to their getting to Earth in the first place. . . .

For six months, he and his friends had studied Banishing and Nethermancy at the Nightmare Academy, honing their skills in preparation to one day go to work for the Nightmare Division—the organization charged with controlling the Nethercreature population on Earth. During their final exam, they had stumbled across a plot to bring the last two Named Lords of the Nether out of that terrible land of monsters and here to our world.

Despite Charlie’s best efforts (or maybe because of them, depending on who you talked to), the Named succeeded in their evil scheme and managed to summon the Fifth—a creature of unimaginable power. The Fifth promptly destroyed all the Named Lords and established herself as the Ruler of the Army of the Nether, sending her ferocious minions out across the planet to wreak havoc on humanity.

Someone had to take the blame, and Director Drake of the Nightmare Division blamed Charlie and sent him into exile.

As much as he was desperate to leave his parents’ apartment and return to his friends at the Nightmare Academy, Charlie didn’t see how he could. If he left his folks alone, they would likely be monster food within minutes. Plus, there was that sticky matter of his being exiled. He didn’t know what it meant exactly, but he suspected it involved him being banished from the Academy—maybe forever.

Not that a little thing like banishment was going to stop him.

As far as Charlie was concerned, nothing was going to prevent him from seeing Violet, Theodore, and Brooke again after he was sure his parents were safe from the monsters of the Nether.

And then . . . something miraculous happened.

The monsters gave up.

As quickly as the attacks on humanity had started, they stopped. For a full week, there were no monster sightings anywhere on planet Earth. Across the globe, people celebrated and rejoiced. They even went back to their old routines, thrilled that the Monster War was finally over.

Charlie, you’re too thin, his mother scolded as he nibbled at his Big Mac. Charlie glanced at the door of the McDonald’s, sure that some horrible beast was going to lurch in—but the place remained calm and quiet.

I’m fine, Mom. Really.

There’s nothing wrong with him, his father said, gulping down a chocolate shake. The boy is just growing taller. Children are like taffy—as you stretch them, they get thinner.

Well, I think it’s stress. For half a year now, he’s been expected to save the entire world from monsters all on his own. I mean, he hasn’t even kissed a girl yet.

Mom!

Well, it’s true.

Not really, Charlie thought, thinking of the quick kiss he’d shared with Brooke at the Nightmare Academy six months ago; but he didn’t say anything. He glanced again at the front door.

Will you please stop doing that? Olga snapped. Nothing is coming through there! Goodness gracious—no one has seen a monster in over a week.

Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they’re not around . . . hiding . . . waiting to attack.

And why is that your problem? His mother angrily jabbed a french fry into a small cup of ketchup. "Let the adults in the Nightmare Division handle it; you’re still a child! My child! And as long as you’re with us, we will protect you—not the other way around. That’s just the way it works in the real world."

Yeah, right, Charlie thought. The image of his parents protecting him from monsters was so laughable that he couldn’t even conjure it up.

Well, we may be the adults, his father said, but the fact remains that Charlie is an extraordinarily good monster hunter. He’s a . . . what do they call you?

A Double-Threat.

"Double-Threat! Yes, indeed! The boy can both Banish and Nethermance—most children can’t do either."

Well, he didn’t ask for this horrible ability, his mother replied icily. I’m just thankful the monsters have stopped attacking so we can stop worrying about it.

Charlie shook his head. It’s not over.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. I can . . . I can feel it. Something is coming, something bad, and I’ve gotta . . ."

He hesitated.

I’ve got to leave you and go find my friends at the Academy; I’ve got to get ready to fight were the words he knew he should say—but the panicked, desperate look in his mother’s eyes stopped him.

Charlie Benjamin, she said with a sigh. You know I love you more than life itself . . . but you can’t possibly get rid of all the monsters in the world.

And that was when a Netherbat crashed through the large front window of the McDonald’s.

I may not be able to get rid of all the monsters in the world, Charlie thought as the crimson beast sailed inside with a shriek, furiously flapping its leathery wings as startled customers dove for cover from the terrible spray of glass, but I can sure get rid of this one.

He reached under the booth and drew his glowing blue rapier—it felt good in his hand. With another ear-piercing shriek, the Netherbat snatched a screaming chunky guy in its talons, then spun around and flapped toward the broken window, trying to escape with its flailing prize.

Charlie leaped into the air and, with one quick, smooth move, brought his sizzling rapier down on the beast’s left wing. It fell to the ground in a fountain of black ichor, and the Netherbat, off balance now, careened into the condiment counter in a goopy explosion of mustard and ketchup. Still flapping with its remaining wing, it flipped onto its back and slammed into the restaurant wall. The nearby customers scrambled to crawl away as the beast snapped at them—until Charlie put a quick stop to that by chopping off its head.

Th-thank you! the chunky man exclaimed as Charlie yanked him from the dead creature’s spasm-ing talons. But before Charlie could mutter you’re welcome, two more monstrous bats sailed into the McDonald’s, searching for tasty human prey. Charlie gutted one of the beasts as it soared above him and then quickly dispatched the other as it flew into the kitchen. The creature’s carcass slammed down onto the grill, where it cooked and sizzled alongside the burger patties and fried onions.

There was silence then, broken only by the popping of frying meat. After a moment, it was joined by another sound.

Clapping.

Charlie turned to see the customers in the restaurant as they struggled to their feet, applauding. Aw, it was nothing, he said, turning a bright shade of red, secretly pleased with himself.

Suddenly, he heard screaming. He turned and saw a mass of people rushing out of the nearby shopping center.

Something was inside.

Something bad.

Don’t, his mother pleaded.

I have to, Charlie replied; and without another word, he ran out of the McDonald’s and toward the monsters in the mall.

Chapter Two

Monsters in the Mall

Screaming customers flooded from the entrance in waves, and pushing through them was like trying to break through heavy surf; but somehow Charlie managed. Once inside, he tried to distance himself from the cries of the panicked people to figure out the cause of their terror. His first clue came from a woman just outside a Banana Republic. People streamed past her—mothers clutching children, elderly folks hopping along on canes—but for some reason this woman wasn’t moving.

That’s strange, Charlie thought. And then he realized why.

She was covered from the neck down in a clear, gummy mass that completely immobilized her, anchoring her to the floor. Charlie glanced around and saw that she wasn’t the only one encased in the gluey mess. A security guard in the food court on the second story was trapped against the cash register of a China Bowl restaurant, and two kids in the play area were stuck to a giant foam ladybug.

Only one monster does that, Charlie thought. And then he saw it: a Ravenous Sticky-Spitter.

The large lizardlike creature clung to the outside of a glass elevator that was making its way back to the first floor. The beast was incredibly hard to spot—Sticky-Spitters had terrific camouflage; the pigment in their skin mirrored their surroundings so perfectly that most people could only see them when they moved. Charlie didn’t think he’d ever come into contact with a Sticky-Spitter before, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t. Before his training at the Nightmare Academy, one could have been sleeping right next to him without him ever seeing it.

As the elevator landed on the first floor, the Sticky-Spitter opened its wide mouth and spat out a large wad of glistening goop that shot through the air and snagged a fleeing worker from the Foot Locker.

At least the guy’s face isn’t covered, Charlie thought, before remembering that Ravenous Sticky-Spitters (or RSSs) preferred to swallow their food alive, so they carefully aimed their spit to immobilize prey, not suffocate it.

With his rapier glowing fiercely blue, Charlie rushed toward the RSS, intent on putting an end to its attacks before feeding time could begin. But as fast as Charlie was, he wasn’t faster than the gluey phlegm that the RSS hurled his way, sticking him to the floor like a fly to flypaper. His arms were pinned to his sides, and his face was spattered with flecks of glistening spittle; they had the sour smell of a burp that had been fermenting inside a belly for far too long.

Okay, Charlie thought calmly, if I can’t Banish it, I’ll just Nethermance it away.

As one of only three people in existence who could both Banish and Nethermance (although not at the same time), Charlie had options available to him that most people with the Gift could only dream of. He began to open a portal beneath the creature, when several Netherstalkers suddenly burst through the air shaft in the ceiling above him, quickly descending on long strands of spider silk. The double eyestalks that waved on their heads told him they were only Class-2 creatures, which wouldn’t normally present a problem—but this situation was far from normal.

Normally, he wasn’t trapped in a glob of Sticky-Spitter phlegm.

How am I gonna get out of this one? he wondered as their large, spidery bodies arrowed down toward him, sharp fangs snapping.

Just before the first of the Netherstalkers pounced on his head, Charlie noticed his father running out of a store, wielding a large baseball bat.

Get away from my boy! the tall man shouted. With one mighty swing, he knocked the nearest Netherstalker away. It made a crunching sound, like a snail being crushed underfoot, then swung wildly into the air, still tethered to the thick silken line that spun out of its abdomen.

Thanks, Dad! Charlie shouted.

No time to talk, Son, Barrington replied as he swung at another of the descending creatures. Again there was that peculiar crunching sound, and the Netherstalker soared away with a squeal. You may have noticed, Barrington continued, eyeing another of the approaching beasts, that I’ve chosen to use a baseball bat made of wood. Why not aluminum, you ask? Because aluminum doesn’t compare to the feel of a solid length of northern white ash, that’s why.

He shot Charlie a friendly wink just as the hairy bristles on the leg of another Netherstalker landed on Charlie’s shoulder. Barrington reared back to swing as Olga rushed up with a can of Raid.

Get off him, you filthy bug! she yelled, spraying the creature right in its waving eyestalks. The Netherstalker shrieked and crashed to the slick mall floor.

Olga Benjamin! Barrington roared. Excellent work! Where did you get the bug spray?

The Rite Aid, she replied. Best thing to get rid of bugs, don’t you think?

Barrington smiled. My girl . . .

The two of them went to work dispatching the rest of the Netherstalkers so that Charlie could go after the Ravenous Sticky-Spitter, which was now moving rapidly toward them. Because its skin was camouflaged so perfectly against the wall of the mall, Charlie had trouble judging exactly how far away it really was.

If he opened a portal behind it, there wouldn’t be enough time to open another, and the monster would get them and eat them. If he opened a portal too far in front of it, the monster would have time to swerve around the trap and still get them and eat them. But if he opened the portal just right, directly beneath the rampaging creature, then maybe . . .

Purple fire blazed across Charlie