sporting a most miserable expression, Mr. D’eath, a middle-aged skeleton, shuffled into the waiting area. He was the physical and mental embodiment of melancholy, so much so that he could not even recall the last time he had smiled, let alone laughed. Standing with hunched shoulders and a low-hanging head, Mr. D’eath attempted to wrangle the students lingering nearby. However, instead of simply calling to them or even whistling at them, he sighed. And though the sighs began softly, they soon grew quite loud and aggressive. Why, the man was practically wailing before he was able to rally the monsters into a small group around him!

“Hello, students. I hope looking at my bony face and listening to my flat voice does not depress you,” Mr. D’eath announced in a monotone manner. “But if it does, I understand.”

The glum man then looked at the ground and began sighing again, leaving the students quite bewildered.

“I guess I should tell you which rooms you’re in,” the man grumbled painfully, as if the mere act of speaking was zapping every last drop of energy he possessed.

Rochelle was instantly mesmerized by the gloomy man, taking his every sigh and frown to heart. A helpful and proactive gargoyle, she found glum and woeful people difficult to be around without giving advice.

“As you can see, there is a ghouls’ section and a boys’ section. Boys are not to visit ghouls, and ghouls are not to visit boys,” Mr. D’eath said as he pointed to a split in the corridor. “Now then, the Chamber of Ghoulery and Foolery has been assigned to Rose and Blanche Van Sangre from Romania.”

Tall and sinewy identical twins with raven hair and ashy skin, both dressed in floor-length polka-dot dresses and black velvet capes, pushed to the front of the group.

“Hullo, me name is Rose Van Sangre, and this is me sister Blanche Van Sangre. Ve are gypsy vampires, so ve do not like to sleep in the same place more than three nights,” Rose stated coldly in her thick Romanian accent.

“I don’t care where you sleep, or even if you sleep. I, for one, haven’t had a good night’s sleep… ever,” Mr. D’eath announced before once again sighing dramatically.

“Vraies jumelles! Identical twins! Gemelli identici!” a young man hollered abruptly from the back of the group, prompting all to turn.

The unique boy with three heads, whom they would soon come to know as Three-Headed Freddie, had a terrible habit of blurting out his thoughts unexpectedly. And while each of the heads said the exact same thing at the exact same time, all three spoke in different languages—usually Bitealian, Fanglish, and Scarisian; but sometimes Zombese, Goblinese, and Howlish found their way in as well.

“Ve are not identical, and ve do not take kindly to being mistaken for one another, as ve look very different. As any imbecile can see, Rose’s hair is significantly less shiny than mine,” Blanche said angrily before grabbing the large gold key to her room and storming off with her sister.

“The Chamber of Vampires and Campfires will be shared by pumpkin heads Marvin, James, and Sam.”

Three petite creatures with noodle-thin limbs and jack-o’-lanterns for heads bounced up to Mr. D’eath, grabbed their golden key, and broke into song.

“There once was a woman made out of water, so mean we told her ‘don’t have a daughter,’ ” they sang as their pet bullfrogs chirped loudly, offering the perfect bass accompaniment. It was a rather well-known fact that the amphibians were absolute naturals at maintaining rhythm.

Pumpkin heads, descendants of the Headless Horseman and therefore very distant cousins of Headmistress Bloodgood, often acted as a Greek chorus, singing about nearly everything they saw or heard.

“The Chamber of Fangs and Orangutans is assigned to Three-Headed Freddie alone, as we heard his heads like to talk in their sleep,” Mr. D’eath announced as the boy averted his six eyes in embarrassment.

“The Chamber of Tomb and Gloom is for Cy Clops and Henry Hunchback.”

The shy yet handsome Cyclops moved to the side as Henry Hunchback, a ginger-haired boy suffering from extreme curvature of the spine, approached Mr. D’eath for the key.

“Hi, Mr. D., I’m Henry, and I just wanted to say I am super excited to be at Monster High, especially since Coach Igor teaches here. That guy is a legend,” Henry said warmly before Mr. D’eath sighed and looked away.

“Everyone loves Coach Igor—the Casketball team, the Fearleading squad, and the Skulltimate Roller Maze team. How come no one has such fondness for the guidance counselor?” Mr. D’eath bemoaned sadly.

“Something must be done,” Rochelle quietly muttered to Roux as she lifted the griffin to see the perpetually gloomy Mr. D’eath.

“The Chamber of Voltage and Moltage is assigned to Hoodude, who will not have a roommate, as we were told his shrine to Frankie Stein is rather elaborate.”

Hoodude, a human-sized voodoo doll with blue hair, button eyes, and a variety of needles jutting out of his cloth body, was absolutely infatuated with fellow student Frankie Stein. She had, after all, created him in her father’s laboratory.

“Thank you, Mr. D’eath,” Hoodude said sweetly before puttering down the boys’ corridor.

“And finally, in the Chamber of Gore and Lore, we have Venus McFlytrap, Robecca Steam, and Rochelle Goyle.”

While looking around for signs of her roommates, Rochelle’s glance landed on an interesting-looking girl with green skin and a half-shaved head. The girl cocked her head to the side and grinned as the vines that coiled around her wrists lightly fluttered their leaves.

Rochelle certainly wasn’t in Scaris anymore!