John Wolfstone-The Book

Snapjaw helps John, even in death

A week later, John was standing before the school, looking at something that was thirty feet tall and covered in canvas.

“Is it ready?” he asked, looking at a green and slime-like man, who had pieces of granite dust stuck to him.

“Yep,” he said. “Best piece of work I’ve ever done in so short a time. It’s been a while since me and my assistants had a challenge of its like, especially with that rule of yours.”

“Well, I’ll only pay people that will follow the requirements that I ask them," John said, looking into the man's eyes. "So the question is this, did you, along with the others, eat any sentient beings while you were under contract?”

“Not a single one of us did, Mr. Wolfstone sir," the man said, with a slight smile. "Not for the amount of money that you offered us. It would have been foolish to ignore such a generous client’s request.”

“Well, here’s the money," John said, as he got an envalope from his pocket. "In cash, just like I promised you and your assistants.”

“Thank you," said the man, as he opened the envalope to take a peak before he closed it back up.

With that, the man shifted and slithered to an open sewer, and entered it.

John then walked into the school, and headed to his new office.

When he got there, he saw Janelle, who handed him a sheet of paper.

“John," she said. "Here’s the schedule for today.”

“Oh, thanks Janelle,” John said, as he sat down in one of the chairs.

“Do you have something on your mind?” Janelle asked, sitting next to him.

“Yah,” John said, looking at Jeff’s desk. “Like who am I to take on your father’s job and fill his shoes? The guy had some very large feet.”

Then he chuckled and looked at Janelle, who was smiling.

“Thanks John,” she said. “Because you have been there, for me, during the time I’ve been mourning.”

John then placed a hand on her cheek, catching a tear that had been threatening to fall.

“Your father trusted me to take care of you,” he said.

“Yah, me and the school, the two most important things in his life,” Janelle said, as she placed her head on his shoulder.

“Well, I know this much,” John said. “I certainly have a new respect for him. Less than a week on the job and I’ve already parents threatening to pull their children out of school.”

“Why don’t you go and convince them otherwise?” Janelle asked.

“In what manner do you suggest?" John asked, with a sigh. "Threatening to eat them would do me no good, because their children have probably told them that I’m a vegetarian. I can’t force the students to stay in school. There isn’t much that I can do.”

“Well, you could use blackmail,” Janelle said, with a sheepish look on her face.

“What do you mean?” John asked.

“Well, father kept a folder in the bottom drawer of the desk," Janelle said, as she pointed at the large desk. "He told me that, before he passed on.”

“Did he tell you what was in it?” John asked, curious about this folder he had never heard of.

“Well,” Janelle said, “He said that it had information that you may want to know about.”

At this, John chuckled, and smiled.

“He’d be right,” he said. “I would want to know about it, especially if it keeps students from being taken out of the school.”

He then walked around to the other side of the desk and grew to the same height Jeff had been, thirty feet.

However, when he sat down in the chair, something didn’t feel quite right.

“This chair was defiantly not made for me in mind,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” Janelle asked.

At this, John pulled a skull from a hole in the cushion, looked at it, and said, placing the skull in his pocket, “I don’t think you need to know what your father’s personal preference in seat cushions was. Needless to say, I won’t be using his seat after today, at any rate.”

John then looked at the drawers, both inside and out.

However, despite finding plenty of bones, and placing them in his pockets, he couldn’t find any hidden folders.

“Everything seems to be accounted for,” he said out loud.

“Including a bunch of bones the guy had,” he thought. “Remind me to give them a decent burial.”

Then he heard a voice say, “Thanks for putting my remains in one spot buddy.”

At this, John stiffened. The voice was coming from next to his leg.

When he looked down, he saw the spirit of a young man sitting on the leg that had the pocket containing the bones.

“Who are you?” he asked, in a voice that Janelle couldn’t hear, but a ghost would.

“Well, I used to be Mrs. Snapjaw’s personal sex toy, until about twenty-five years ago, when she got pregnant,” the spirit said. “After that, her husband had me turned into a seat cushion, which I was, until I died, staring up at his ass. Not the way I wanted to go. After that, he placed my remains in different drawers in his desk, except for my skull. He left it in that damn cushion, which has caused me nothing but suffering. So thank you buddy.”

“You’re welcome,” John said, still using a voice that Janelle couldn’t hear. “I’ll see to it that you will get a proper burial.”

“Thank you,” the ghost said. “Is there something that I can do to repay you?”

“Well,” John said, rubbing his chin, as if deep in thought. “Do you happen to know where Mr. Snapjaw kept any hidden folders at?”

“Of course I do,” the ghost said, with a smile on his face, which seemed very familiar to John. “That bastard had a hidden drawer installed under the desk. I hope that you deal with him, in the manner that he deserves.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” John said, reaching under the desk. “He was murdered last week, protecting someone that I think that you should know about.”

“Who was it, my former master? That bitch was nice and all but she shouldn’t have given me up. I hope she died to,” the ghost said, angrily.

“No,” John said, as he bumped the desk, in a way that caused a picture to fall on the floor next to them. “It was your daughter.”

He then reached down and turned it face up, showing Janelle’s picture.

At this, the ghost gasped.

“A daughter,” he said, with excitement, and worry in his voice. “Is she alright?”

At this, John nodded and said, “Yes, thanks to him.”

“He protected my daughter?” the ghost asked, looking at the man who had found his remains.

“Yes, at the cost of his life," John said, with a light smile. "Oh, and congratulations, in six months, you’ll be a grandfather, to two fine wonderful babies.”

“Well, can you tell me, my daughter’s name?” the ghost asked, as he placed his hand on the picture.

At this, John smiled and said, in a voice that Janelle could hear, as he grabbed a loose panel under the desk, “Janelle.”

At this, the ghost smiled, and vanished, crossing over.

As he vanished, Janelle came over, looking at John.

“You found something?” she asked.

“Yah,” John said, pulling on the panel. “I think your father placed a drawer under the top of his desk. Explains why he’d tell you that the folder was in a drawer on the bottom of the desk, right?”

Then, he made a final pull, and took the panel off of the desk, and pulled it out, for them to see.

However, there wasn’t just one folder in the drawer, but several dozen. On top of each folder was a set of letters, A-Cc, Cd-Fe, and so on.

However, on top of the stack was a note, addressed to John. He picked it up, and set the drawer down, so Janelle could search the files.

Then, John looked at the note, and felt his throat start to dry. With a nervous gulp, he tentatively extended a claw, and carefully removed the seal from the note, as it was Jeff’s personal way of marking important documents, using some wax from a blue candle, and a weight, which had the symbol of the school on it, his face, as he had started the school himself, with the help of certain wealthy families.