Grendel roamed the hallways after his fourth period English class had gotten too boring. He had a slight smirk on his face, the satisfaction he always got after he’d done something he knew he shouldn’t have. The halls were empty, and eerily quiet. Only the squeak of his footsteps on the wet floor could be heard. After a while the squeak wore off, and he had renewed hope that the principal would not catch him.
He heard the sound of scuffed, smooth shoes and recognized them immediately as Principal Shnieder’s. He was a fat little troll of an administrator with ears that wriggled when he talked about geography and only when he talked about geography.
And he loved giving out detention slips.
Grendel ducked into the boy’s bathroom just as Shnieder was coming around the corner, feeling his heart jump up into his chest when he did.
Tommy and ‘Sud’ were in the bathroom, where they spent most of their classes.
“What’s up, Gren?” Tommy said in the halfway-mocking tone he almost always used. He was tall for his age at almost six foot five, and spiked his hair to add even a little more height. His grin seemed to stretch beyond the borders of his face as he greeted Grendel, opening his jean shirt to reveal a ‘Hello Nasty’ tee underneath. Sud sat next to him on the sink counter, scratching the stubble that composed his hair. He was a larger boy wearing a sweater even though he was clearly warm and his arms seemed a little too long for the rest of his body. He did not greet Grendel, but that was normal. Sud almost never spoke, except to back up Tommy.
“Nothin’ much, man,” Grendel replied, still listening for Shnieder to pass as he slapped hands with Tommy. “You guys still coming to my party this Saturday? It’s gonna be a wild one.”
“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be there,” Tommy smiled, then dropped his voice, even though there was nobody else around. “Have you, ah, made your move with Cathy yet?”
Grendel lowered his voice too. “Not yet. I’m gonna do it at the party. I figure after all this Jamie business, and with Mike in the hospital, she’ll need a shoulder to cry on.”
“Yeah, and then a person to lie on.”
They all laughed.
“Hopefully,” he smirked, licking his tongue against his teeth. They stopped talking as they heard Shnieder pass the bathroom and continue around the corner. “Well, I gotta go. It’s only so long before he checks in here. Talk to you later, guys.”
Grendel stepped out into the quiet hallway once again. His shoes made no sound now.
Then suddenly, they did.
He stopped, but the squeaking continued for a moment or two. He put his back to the corner and poked his head out to check for Shnieder.
The halls were clear.
He looked back from where he came to see if it was Tommy or Sud coming out of the washroom, but that hall was clear as well. He began to walk again, and again the squeaking started, out of synch with his own footsteps. Then he heard it.
Schenk.
The sound of cold metal on the stone walls of the school. His body broke out in gooseflesh as he began to run up the halls toward his classroom. The sound and the squeaks sped up as well. He rounded the second-to-last corner to his class, and slipped on the floor, ploughing into the wet floor sign and then slamming into the lockers. Hard.
He picked himself up as he heard the squeaks, still coming now even though he had stopped. He heard the sound again, and suddenly remembered the rumors of the man with hooks for hands. He broke into a run, turning the next corner and running right into Carl Dent.
“What the hell are you doin’, boy?” Dent bellowed.
“N-nothing,” Grendel stammered as he looked down at Dent’s metal coat strap, clinking against the wall, and sighed at his own silliness.
“I should report you to your --” Dent stopped for a moment, looked in his folder, then back up at Grendel. “Is your name Julian Grendel?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s me. It’s just Grendel though.”
“Son, do you know an Alex Drew?”
“You mean Xander?”
“Come with me, boy.”
“Son,” Dent said as he glared at the boy from across the guidance counsellor’s table. “How well do you know this... Xander, is it?”
“Yeah. He’s all right. I invited him to a party coming up Saturday.”
“So, you’d say that you were friends?”
“More like a friend of a friend,” Grendel said, mulling the term ‘friend’ around in his head for a second.
“You mean Michael Harris?” he pushed, checking his file just to be sure of the name.
“Mmm. More like Cathy Kennessy,” he corrected quickly, a sly grin prying over his lips.
“I see. Alright, how would you describe Xander Drew?”
“He’s cool enough. He knows what goes on. A little bit of a loner though.”
“What do you mean?” Dent picked up his pen and paper and began to write.
“Well, he mainly only hangs around with these three people...”
Dent again looked at his notes. “Mike Harris, Cathy Kennessy and Sara Johnson.”
“Yes.” Grendel was starting to get a little freaked about how much Dent knew about the life of an average kid. “And when he’s not shooting pool with them, he’s usually inside on his computer. Guy fancies himself a
