As soon as word got out that the school found the entrance to their old courtyard, those who'd lived through its birth and death began to panic. Why had they been digging so close to its location? Was the door still intact? Did they have any plans to open it after all these years of leaving the whole damned thing to rot?
These and many more were the questions posed to the school board. No amount of delaying and deterring all answers settled the town's worries. By the end of the meeting all they knew for certain was that as soon as the school board found the keys, they'd open it up and undo everything their predecessors had suffered for.
A few among the older folk, those who remembered the late night detentions held in the subterranean areas of the school in the classrooms that peered out into the old courtyard and the shambling creatures it housed, planned to pay their old hell one final visit.
Something in their minds hadn't been right since the courtyard was assembled and those creatures trapped within. Something whispered to them late into the night, something told them that all their dreams would come true and their loved ones return to them if they came down and opened the door.
Now was their chance to burn it all down, and those things with it, before the ignorance of the school board put them all at risk once more.
Even from the edge of the playground they could hear the guttural snaps and croaks coming from beneath the tarpaulin that covered a familiar well-worn staircase. If their memory served them correctly then beyond it stood the outer hallways and the thick glass walls that kept them safe from the nocturnal plants and the monsters that tended to them.
They all knew that the sacks of bone-meal once had homework just the same as them.
Now would have been their chance to stop it from happening again except that when they opened the door they were greeted to a hallway full of broken glass and an overgrown courtyard. The only signs of life were the fresh bloodied drag marks that lead to a pile of rags.
Rags that had the school committee insignia stitched onto them.
Now was their chance to burn it all down, and those things with it, before the ignorance of the school board put them all at risk once more.
Even from the edge of the playground they could hear the guttural snaps and croaks coming from beneath the tarpaulin that covered a familiar well-worn staircase. If their memory served them correctly then beyond it stood the outer hallways and the thick glass walls that kept them safe from the nocturnal plants and the monsters that tended to them.
They all knew that the sacks of bone-meal once had homework just the same as them.
Now would have been their chance to stop it from happening again except that when they opened the door they were greeted to a hallway full of broken glass and an overgrown courtyard. The only signs of life were the fresh bloodied drag marks that lead to a pile of rags.
Rags that had the school committee insignia stitched onto them.
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