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Chapter Text

It was a typical Friday at Monster High—well, as typical as things ever got at a school filled with vampires, werewolves, and all manner of fabulous freaky creatures.

Headmistress Bloodgood had summoned all the students to the grand, gothic-style auditorium for a special assembly. The room was packed to capacity, a buzzing hive of energy. The student body, a dazzling mix of old faces and new transfers from places like Haunted High, sat on floating chairs that hovered in perfect rows. The chatter of excited voices bounced off the towering stone walls, a symphony of youthful chaos.

The ghouls had spread out across the auditorium, choosing their seats with care.

Lagoona Blue lounged in the back with her closest friends and her sea-sational boyfriend, Gil, the two sharing quiet laughter amidst the hubbub.

Draculaura was nestled comfortably beside Clawd, her delicate head resting on his broad shoulder as he murmured sweet nothings that made her giggle and blush.

Meanwhile, Clawdeen Wolf sat toward the center, flanked by her little sister Howleen and Toralei. The former bully had softened over the months, her once prickly demeanor now tinged with warmth, especially when Clawdeen's hand found hers.

Abbey Bominable, ever the ice queen with a warm heart, was somewhere in the crowd with Heath Burns. Her hearty laugh rang out as Heath managed to land one of his surprisingly witty jokes.

Up front, Cleo de Nile held court beside Deuce, her golden outfit shimmering even in the low auditorium light.

Frankie Stein, ever the optimist, sat patiently by herself, a small smile on her stitched face as she watched her classmates interact.

When the room suddenly hushed, all eyes turned to the stage. Bloodgood, her presence commanding as always, strode to the podium with her signature calm authority. She adjusted the microphone, its feedback silencing the last whispers of conversation.

"Good afternoon, students!" Her voice echoed across the cavernous space, crisp and full of energy. "I trust you're all still alive—well, figuratively speaking—after this grueling month of exams?"

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the shared relief palpable. Bloodgood let them have their moment before raising a hand, her gesture effortlessly calling them back to order.

"Now, now," she said with a sly smile. "Don’t get too carried away. You’ll need all that energy for the exciting events we have planned in the coming months. And to kick things off..." She paused, letting the suspense build. "Next Friday, we’ll be attending the annual Monster Mash Dance!"

The room practically exploded with excitement. Cheers, howls, and delighted shrieks filled the air. The Monster Mash was the event of the year, a night when students donned their most extravagant attire, celebrating their unique heritages in a swirl of color and culture. It was a night of unity, laughter, and a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of chaos that life at Monster High often entailed.

Bloodgood’s smile widened as she watched the students’ enthusiasm light up the room. "So start planning your ghoulishly glamorous outfits, because this year’s dance is shaping up to be more spectacular than ever!"

The excitement in the auditorium was electric, the anticipation of a night to remember casting a hopeful glow over the entire student body. After the trials and tribulations of the past year, the Monster Mash was exactly what everyone needed—a chance to come together, let loose, and celebrate everything that made Monster High so spooktacularly special.

Draculaura lifted her head from Clawd's shoulder, her fanged smile lighting up her face. “We’re so going, right?” she asked, her pink eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Of course, D,” Clawd replied, wrapping his muscular arm around her petite shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

In the back, Lagoona Blue nudged Gil with her elbow, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Oi, mate, you still got that seaweed-covered suit lying around?”

Gil chuckled, his gills flaring slightly in amusement. “Yeah, it’s in my basement somewhere. Haven’t worn it in ages, so it’ll need a good polish-up.”

“Perfect!” Lagoona exclaimed, already imagining how dashing he’d look in it.

Cleo de Nile, seated in the front row, leaned over to whisper in Deuce’s ear, her golden jewelry softly clinking with the motion. “We’re coordinating outfits,” she said, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Deuce smirked, his snakes writhing playfully under his hood. “Anything for you, babe,” he replied, flashing her a smile that made her heart flutter.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the auditorium, Heath Burns tapped Abbey Bominable on the shoulder. The towering yeti turned, her icy gaze meeting his fiery enthusiasm.

“So, Abbey,” Heath began, his voice practically dripping with excitement, “you know how we’re basically the ultimate fire-and-ice duo, right?”

Abbey raised an eyebrow, suspicious yet intrigued. “Da, I know this. Why?”

Heath’s face split into a mischievous grin. “I was thinking—for our outfits—we swap roles. You go as a fire princess, and I’ll rock a blue-and-white ice suit. What do you think?”

Abbey’s stern demeanor softened into a warm smile, her frosty exterior melting slightly under her boyfriend’s charm. “I like this idea,” she admitted. “But dress cannot be too revealing. I am no show pony.”

Heath threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t worry! I know a guy who can make it perfect,” he promised, his grin now stretching from ear to ear.

As the students eagerly exchanged plans for their outfits, the lively atmosphere was interrupted by an unusual noise from the stage. A mechanical whir and the faint screech of wheels turned all heads toward the source.

Headmistress Bloodgood swiveled around, her sharp eyes narrowing as she spotted the culprit. Mr. Hackington, the eccentric Mad Science teacher, was wheeling an enormous cart onto the stage. Strapped to the cart was a massive, cylindrical canister. The tank was the size of a small gas chamber, filled with swirling pink-and-glittery gas that seemed to pulse and twist unnaturally, as though alive.

“Mr. Hackington,” Bloodgood called, her voice a mixture of confusion and exasperation. “May I ask why you’re wheeling that thing through here?”

Hackington froze mid-step, his wild gray hair standing out in every direction as he turned to face her. His British accent added an air of polite nonchalance to his words. “Oh, don’t mind me, love! I’m just passing through on my way to the lab.”

Bloodgood raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And why, exactly, couldn’t you use the hallway like a normal teacher? You know it’s against school policy to bring equipment through the assembly hall during events!”

Hackington held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Apologies, Headmistress, but this tank is far too large to navigate those tight corridors. Besides,” he added, gesturing toward a door on the far side of the stage, “there’s a shortcut through that door. It’ll save me a good ten minutes of walking!”

Bloodgood pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly unimpressed but unwilling to prolong the disruption. “Fine,” she relented with a sigh, waving him off dismissively. “But be quick about it. You’re causing a distraction.”

Hackington gave a theatrical bow, his grin as broad as ever. “Thank you kindly, Headmistress. You won’t hear another peep from me.” With that, he resumed pushing the cart, the mysterious canister gleaming ominously under the stage lights as he headed toward the door at the back of the assembly.

The students exchanged curious glances, their whispered speculation about the canister briefly stealing attention from the Monster Mash. What was in that tank?

And why did it look like it was... alive?

Clawdeen leaned closer to Toralei, her voice low but sharp. “What’s he doing bringing that here?”

Toralei smirked, leaning back in her chair with a feline grin. “Knowing him? Probably another one of his ‘groundbreaking’ experiments. Bet it fizzles out like the last one—or worse.”

Before Clawdeen could reply, the chatter died down as Bloodgood resumed her announcements. She cleared her throat, her tone shifting from excitement about the dance to something far more somber.

“In addition to the upcoming Monster Mash,” she began, her voice measured, “next week marks the beginning of October.”

A collective groan rippled through the room. The energy drained as her words settled on the audience.

“I know many of us dread the holiday,” she continued, her expression darkening. “Humanity’s treatment of monsters during this time is often less than kind. I urge all of you to remain vigilant. Avoid going out late, and under no circumstances should you retaliate if provoked. Doing so could result in–”

HISSSSSSSSSSSS

Bloodgood spun around to see Mr. Hackington frantically pressing buttons on the control panel attached to his massive canister.

“BLASTED! WRONG BUTTON, WRONG BUTTON!” Hackington shouted, his voice rising in panic.

Pink, glittering gas hissed and spewed from the canister, spreading rapidly across the stage and spilling into the auditorium like an ominous fog.

Bloodgood’s eyes widened. Without hesitation, she leapt off the stage, covering her mouth and nose with her shirt.

“Evacuate!” she shouted, her voice muffled. But before she could give further instructions, Hackington bolted for the nearest door, abandoning the canister as the gas quickly enveloped the room.

The students weren’t so lucky.

The glittering mist filled the auditorium within seconds, blurring vision and making it difficult to breathe. Choking coughs and panicked cries filled the air as students tried to shield their mouths and noses.

Lagoona grabbed Gil’s hand, her voice shaking. “Gil, are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine, but what about you?” Gil responded, his tone laced with concern. Without his helmet on, the gas was affecting him quickly, and he swatted at the air in a futile attempt to clear it.

“Are you okay?” Deuce asked, gripping Cleo’s arm tightly. His snakes hissed and writhed in distress.

“I’m fine,” Cleo replied, though her voice wavered. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m good, but we need to get out of here.”

Around the room, chaos unfolded. Manny roared as he shielded Iris with his massive body, her cries of fear muffled against his chest. Ghoulia and Slo Mo clutched each other, their groans of concern barely audible over the cacophony.

Frankie, ever the helper, rushed to assist Venus and Robecca. She knelt beside her mechanical friend, who had collapsed into Venus’s arms.

“Robecca, are you alright?” Frankie asked, sparks flickering nervously from her fingertips.

“I... I’m okay,” Robecca rasped, her usually strong voice faint and robotic. “Just... can’t seem to move properly. Thank you.”

Nearby, Abbey knelt beside Heath, whose fiery glow had dimmed to an unsettling flicker.

“Heath, are you alright?” she asked, her icy hand brushing against his forehead. “You look like yeti stranded on icy mountain!”

“I’m fine,” Heath muttered weakly, swaying before dropping to his knees and collapsing onto the floor.

“HEATH!” Abbey cried, dropping beside him and shaking his shoulders. “Wake up!”

The panic in her voice was echoed by others as students began collapsing left and right. Their bodies slumped to the ground as if they were falling into a deep, sudden sleep.

“Heath!” Clawd, Deuce, and Jackson rushed to their friend’s side, their faces etched with concern.

“Come on, man, open your eyes!” Deuce pleaded, shaking Heath gently but urgently.

“Say something!” Jackson added, his usual confidence replaced by raw panic.

“CLAWD!”

The werewolf froze at the sound of his sister’s voice. He turned to see Clawdeen crouched on the ground, shaking an unconscious Draculaura.

“LAURA!” Clawd shouted, sprinting to her side.

He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he cupped Draculaura’s face. “Come on, babe, wake up! Don’t do this to me!”

The scene had descended into chaos. Students cried out for their friends, some attempting to flee while others struggled to drag their unconscious peers toward the exits. Bloodgood’s gaze darted around the room, her horror mounting with every second.

Spotting Hackington cowering by the door, she stormed toward him, her face flushed with rage. “HACKINGTON!”

Hackington flinched, paling at the sound of her voice. “H-Headmistress, I–”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” she bellowed, her voice echoing above the noise.

“It was an accident!” Hackington stammered, waving his hands helplessly. “I swear! I-I hit the wrong button, that’s all!”

“Look around you!” Bloodgood shouted, gesturing wildly to the unconscious students and the pink mist swirling around them. “The entire auditorium is in chaos! What’s in that gas?”

Hackington hesitated, his voice trembling. “It’s mostly harmless! It just a mix of different chemicals, that’s all!”

Before Bloodgood could respond, the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Grabbing the microphone, she shouted over the chaos.

“That’s all for today! Go home and get some rest. We’ll reconvene on Monday!”

The remaining conscious students didn’t wait for further instructions. They dragged their unconscious friends out of the auditorium, leaving the once-bustling room eerily silent.

As the doors slammed shut behind the last of them, Bloodgood turned to Hackington, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. “Hackington.”

“Y-Yes, Headmistress?” he stammered.

“My. Office. Now.”

Hackington gulped audibly, his face ashen as he followed her out of the chaos-stricken auditorium.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

Hackington sat in the chair, his shoulders hunched as Bloodgood loomed over him, her eyes blazing with fury. Her face was inches from his, and the tension in the room was palpable.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Bloodgood seethed, slamming her hands on the table so hard that the surface shuddered.

“It was an accident!” Hackington stammered, raising his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to—”

“STUDENTS COLLAPSED, HACKINGTON!” Bloodgood bellowed, her voice echoing through the office. “How could you be so careless?”

Hackington hung his head, guilt washing over him. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the gas would have such a profound effect on them. I was just trying to adjust the control panel, and my hand slipped.”

Bloodgood sighed, rubbing her temples. As angry as she was, she knew the situation was, at its core, an accident. Hackington wasn’t malicious, just reckless. But one critical question still gnawed at her.

“What in Ra’s name was in that gas to trigger a reaction like this?” she demanded, her anger giving way to sharp curiosity.

Hackington paled, visibly recoiling at the question. His lips moved, but no words came out.

“What?” Bloodgood asked, her patience thinning.

He muttered again, barely louder than a whisper.

“I need you to speak up!” Bloodgood snapped, irritation lacing her words.

Hackington’s voice remained incoherent. By now, Bloodgood’s patience was gone.

“If you don’t START TALKI—”

“THE GAS IS LARGELY MADE OF APHRODISIACS!” Hackington blurted, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

Silence.

“Come again?” Bloodgood asked, her tone calm—too calm.

“I said the gas is largely made of aphrodisiacs,” Hackington repeated, this time more clearly and with a trace of resignation.

The silence hung heavy, broken only by the ticking of a distant clock. 

Then, like a dam bursting, Bloodgood erupted.

“YOU DRUGGED MY STUDENTS WITH A LOVE GAS?!” she screamed, slamming her fists on the table. The force cracked the wood, but she didn’t seem to care.

"Headmistress, I-"

“How could you do something so STUPID AND CARELESS?” She punctuated her rage with another loud slam, the table groaning under the impact.

Hackington flinched, instinctively raising his arms to shield himself, expecting a book or chair to come flying his way.

But Bloodgood didn’t throw anything. Instead, she drew in a deep, shaky breath, calming herself just enough to regain her composure.

“Tell me more about the gas,” she ordered, her voice icy.

“Well,” Hackington began, sweat dripping from his brow as he fidgeted nervously. “Since the students weren’t exactly in the school spirit lately, I thought I could help... boost morale.”

Bloodgood’s expression darkened, but she motioned for him to continue.

“At home, I experimented with various chemicals designed to trigger specific effects on the brain—nothing harmful! But, uh, I accidentally added an aphrodisiac to the mix.”

“And?” Bloodgood prompted, her tone sharper than a blade.

“Well, due to the aphrodisiac, the new compound became a bit... unstable,” Hackington admitted, his voice faltering. “Then I remembered a chemical in my lab that could neutralize any negative effects caused by the aphrodisiac, so I placed the gas in a canister. The plan was to wheel it to my lab to finish the formula and stabilize it.”

“But then the assembly happened, and the gas was released before you could fix it,” Bloodgood finished, her voice dangerously quiet.

Hackington nodded vigorously, sweat pouring down his face. “Exactly! I had a remote control for the canister, and I accidentally pressed the release button during the assembly.”

Bloodgood sighed deeply, resting her head in her palm, as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

“But I assure you!” Hackington added quickly, his voice rising in desperation. “The aphrodisiac’s effects should be minimal! The other chemicals in the formula should counteract it. Even if it does have an effect, it won’t be anything too severe!”

Before Bloodgood could respond, the door to her office burst open with a loud BANG.

Mr. Rotter stormed in, his face twisted with confusion and concern rather than his usual stern demeanor.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, his tone sharp but tinged with worry. “I just saw students leaving the school carrying unconscious classmates, looking like they’ve just survived a massacre! Did something happen?”

Bloodgood’s glare shifted back to Hackington, her expression icy. “Hackington drugged the student body with a love gas,” she stated coldly, each word dripping with fury. “Some bizarre compound he created in his lab for ‘boosting morale.’ It spread throughout the school after he accidentally released it during the assembly.”

“WHAT?!” Rotter bellowed, his booming voice reverberating through the room. His hands clenched into fists as his eyes burned with rage.

Sensing yet another verbal lashing coming his way, Hackington raised his hands defensively.

“Now, calm down, lad!” he said hurriedly, his voice shaking. “The gas is mixed with other chemicals, so it shouldn’t be that bad! Even if there are effects, they’ll only go so far. There’s no need to panic!”

Unfortunately, his attempt to defuse the situation failed miserably.

“Hackington, you absolute idiot!” Rotter thundered, his anger slightly less shrill but no less intense. “Do you have any idea how disastrous this is?”

“I just told yo—”

“Are you forgetting that MOST of our students are in relationships?!” 

Hackington’s face turned as pale as a ghost.

“By 2013, 40% of the students were dating each other,” Rotter continued, his words coming fast and furious. “And now, by 2019, that number has skyrocketed to over 80%! And now you’ve just turned the entire student body into a wave of hormonal maniacs!”

“Uh-oh,” Hackington muttered under his breath, visibly shrinking in his seat.

Rotter stepped forward; his expression now as grim as Bloodgood’s. “Hackington,” he growled, “let me break it down for you so you understand just how bad this is.”

He began ticking off names on his fingers.

“Draculaura and Clawd are dating. Cleo and Deuce are together. Clawdeen and Toralei. Heath and Abbey. Operetta and Johnny. Invisi-Billy and Scarah. Gory and Bram. Ryder and Gigi. Lagoona and Gil. Hell, Twyla and Howleen started dating last week!”

Hackington’s face went even paler—if that were possible—as Rotter continued.

“That’s not even everyone,” Rotter added, his tone dripping with exasperation. “And now you’ve practically turned the entire school into a ticking time bomb of romantic chaos!”

Hackington’s knees began to wobble.

"The point is," Rotter finished, "nearly every student here is emotionally tied to someone, and you’ve just turned this school into a battlefield of raging hormones. It’s a miracle we’re not seeing walls collapse as we speak!"

Bloodgood groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to think of a way—any way—to salvage the situation.

Rotter scowled, pacing the room as his anger built further. “And this couldn’t come at a worse time!” he snapped, listing off the school’s packed schedule on his fingers.

“We’ve got Halloween events to handle, the Monster Mash dance, and to top it all off, the Monster Council is visiting us next Thursday!”

That last point made Bloodgood stiffen, her complexion paling noticeably.

The mention of the Monster Council brought back a flood of memories—memories she wished she could forget.

Since 2011, Monster High had been plagued by one disaster after another. From Van Hellscream’s attempted takeover to Kala Mer’ri’s assault on the school with her Kraken father, the campus had been repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt.

These incidents had left parents irate, with many questioning the school’s ability to protect their children. Some even went so far as to pull their kids out entirely.

The breaking point came after a particularly catastrophic attack involving a now-slain monster that had risen from the catacombs, wreaking havoc across the school.

Furious parents demanded answers, their outrage reaching the ears of the Monster Council.

Bloodgood had received a chilling phone call informing her that the council would be conducting an evaluation of Monster High.

If they found anything even remotely amiss—especially anything involving student safety or inappropriate behavior—Bloodgood would be stripped of her title as headmistress, and Monster High would face indefinite closure while the council restructured the staff and student body, expelling anyone repeatedly responsible for causing chaos

Bloodgood turned to Hackington, her expression now etched with a mix of fury and anxiety. “Hackington,” she said, her voice dangerously calm.

Hackington gulped and turned toward her. “Yes, Headmistress?”

“How long will it take for the effects of the aphrodisiac to wear off?”

Hackington rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I... I honestly don’t know. I’ll need a calculator.”

Without a word, Bloodgood slid a calculator across the desk. Hackington caught it and began punching in numbers. The longer he calculated, the more his eyes widened until they seemed ready to pop out of his skull.

“Well?” Bloodgood demanded, her patience thinning. “How long?”

Hackington took a deep, shaky breath before giving his answer,

“We’re looking at about... five weeks.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Rotter stood frozen, his mouth agape. Hackington braced himself for the inevitable explosion. Bloodgood’s expression was unreadable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

The silence was shattered as Bloodgood’s furious shriek filled the room, loud enough to rattle the windows.

“WHAAAAAAT?!” she screamed, slamming her fists onto her desk with such force that a crack splintered through the wood. “FIVE WEEKS?! The council will be here in 3 DAYS! If they see even a hint of inappropriate behavior, this school will be shut down, and we’ll all be out of jobs!”

At that moment, Hackington looked like he was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. His hands shook, and sweat poured down his face as he glanced nervously between Bloodgood and Rotter.

Rotter leaned against the desk, visibly panicked. He buried his face in his hands before looking up, his voice trembling. "We’re doomed. Completely doomed."

Hackington clasped his hands together, his voice cracking with desperation. "Headmistress, I am truly sorry! I had no intention of causing this much of an uproar—I swear it! Please, believe m-"

Bloodgood raised her hand, silencing him immediately. Her calm demeanor was far more unsettling than her anger had been. Hackington gulped audibly.

"Here’s what’s going to happen," she said, her tone dangerously even. "Hackington, you are going straight to your laboratory, and you are not to leave until you’ve created a cure for your gas. I don’t care if it takes days, weeks, or months—you will work day and night if you have to."

"But—" Hackington tried to protest, raising a shaky hand, but he froze the moment her icy glare pinned him in place. He promptly clamped his mouth shut, nodding vigorously instead.

Bloodgood turned sharply to Rotter. "Rotter, you will contact all the teachers and inform them of the situation. Every staff member must be on high alert. The students need to be closely monitored at all times. We cannot afford any incidents—do I make myself clear?"

"Understood," Rotter replied, his voice now firm, his earlier panic replaced with grim determination.

"Good," Bloodgood snapped. Her eyes narrowed. "NOW GO!"

Both men bolted out of the office like their lives depended on it, nearly tripping over one another in their haste.

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Bloodgood alone. She exhaled heavily, her shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of the situation settled onto her.

Slowly, she turned to look out the window, her sharp gaze fixed on the night sky. The moon hung high above, its light casting an eerie glow across the school grounds.

Her thoughts raced. The potential fallout from this fiasco was overwhelming, and yet she knew she had no choice but to face it head-on. The future of Monster High—and her career—depended on it.

"This," she muttered to herself, her voice laced with weary resignation, "is going to be the longest five weeks of our lives."

To be continued...