as the eldest and only girl in her parents’ garden of monsters, Venus not only was used to being in charge but expected it.

“You guys, stop running! We need to calm down; we’re lost in a school, not eastern Siberia. I’m sure if we take a minute to look around, we’ll find a map or directory or something to tell us how to get to the Vampitheater,” Venus explained rationally.

Frazzled and weary, Robecca and Rochelle nodded their heads before making their way toward an adjoining corridor. Venus, for her part, was momentarily distracted by a headstone warning that the befriending of bats was strictly forbidden because it had been known to breed unbridled jealousy within the local chiropteran community. This phenomenon surprised Venus, as she had always considered bats socially mature, at least in comparison to teenage monsters.

“These big, empty hallways sure do give me the heebie-jeebies,” Robecca muttered to Rochelle. “Where is everybody?”

“I’m sorry, but I do not follow. What are the heebie-jeebies?”

“You know, like when the rivets on the back of your neck pop out?” Robecca explained.

“That sounds like being electrocuted, which is a terribly serious matter.”

“Guys?” Venus called out, having noted the sudden arrival of a repugnant smell.

In all her years, Venus had never come across such an odious smell—a combination of dampness, pickled cabbage, and day-old liver. So ripe was the scent that she could actually feel fur growing inside her nostrils. And as if the smell were not odd enough, there was now a faint scratching sound, like that of twigs on cement, coming from behind them.

“Robecca? Rochelle?” Venus called out again, louder this time.

Upon hearing their names, the girls immediately turned around, only to gasp, gulp, and groan at what they saw.

“What in the name of the foul owl is that?” Robecca shrieked before dramatically covering her mouth with her hand.

“Quelle horreur!” Rochelle squealed loudly, her face distorted with revulsion.

A rush of adrenaline filled Venus, spurring every nerve in her body to tingle as she turned to face the great unknown. Standing before her was a morbidly obese troll with leathery skin, infected acne, and long, oily locks covered in mites. As Venus valiantly suppressed the urge to be sick, the lumpy-bodied beast growled and bared his jagged, sludge-covered teeth.

“Think, Venus,” she muttered to herself. “What would Dr. Ghoulittle do?”

“Who Dr. Houlittle?” the troll grunted in broken English, masses of spittle spewing from both sides of his mouth.

“Um, he’s a ghoul who’s really good with animals,” Venus explained awkwardly. “Maybe you’ve read his books, although I somehow kind of doubt it.”

“What you do in hall?” the troll snapped aggressively before again baring his nasty little teeth.

“It’s our first day here, and we’re lost,” Venus explained sensibly.

“Might you be able to direct us to the Vampitheater?” Rochelle interjected nicely.

After a few seconds of intent staring, the troll lifted his hand, showcasing his long and weathered nails, and pointed down the hallway.

“Vampitheater there,” the troll barked as a trail of dribble slowly ran across his uneven chin.

“Thanks, you’ve been really helpful. Well, except for the part where you snarled at me,” Venus replied matter-of-factly.

“Next time you late, I eat you,” the troll grunted before breaking into a spine-chilling smile.

“Okay, great. That sounds like a plan,” Venus said, pulling the other girls away from the troll.

“Am I correct in understanding that he threatened to eat us?” Rochelle asked incredulously.

“Yes, he did, but I wouldn’t worry. His mouth didn’t look that big. I doubt he could fit more than a hand in it. And lucky for us, we have two of those,” Venus replied candidly.

“Heavens to Betsy, being eaten by a troll, or even just nibbled on by one, sounds downright horrendous!” cried Robecca.

“Hey, glad to see I’m not the only one who’s late,” a well-dressed boy in a plaid cardigan said before holding open the Vampitheater door for the girls.

Venus carefully eyed the boy, amazed by how normal he appeared. Actually, so normal-looking was the boy that she couldn’t help but think the whole thing was rather abnormal!

Venus raised a finger to her lips, quieting Rochelle’s and Robecca’s murmurs as she led them into the grand purple-and-gold assembly hall. Styled in an Egyptian motif, the large room had statues of pharaohs and sphinxes surrounding the stage. And while Venus was too busy looking for seats to notice the interior, Robecca found the place absolutely magical; she was utterly dazzled by the sparkles and shimmers of the room. Rochelle, on the other hand, found the decor dreadfully tacky and reminiscent of a ride at Grislyland.

After searching futilely for open seats, Venus directed the girls to a pocket of space along one of the auditorium’s pathways.

“As you know, gargoyles adore sitting on the ground, since we’re less likely to break furniture that way. However, it is my duty to mention that this is a violation of the school’s fire code,” Rochelle whispered fervently.

“Duly noted,” Venus responded as she lowered herself to the ground.

“Isn’t this fun? I feel like we’re at camp,” Robecca said in her sweet yet naive manner.

While cold and hard, the floor actually provided the girls with a fantastic view of the stage. Miss Sue Nami, Mr. D’eath, a gaggle of other teachers they didn’t recognize, and a few trolls sat staring at Headmistress Bloodgood as she desperately tried to remember what she wanted to say. Much like steam escaping a boiling kettle, the words had simply evaporated from her mind. More than once she began to speak, only to silence herself seconds later. And then just when she was on the verge of forgetting that she had forgotten anything at all, it came rushing back to her.

“Welcome to Monster High! We are wonderfully frightened to have you here, as this is sure to be our best and most monstrous term yet. There really is nothing quite as exciting as the start of a new semester. For at the beginning you have the opportunity to achieve anything you put your mind to. And as someone whose mind is currently on the fritz due to an unfortunate encounter with lightning, I can tell you what a terrible thing it is to waste,” Headmistress Bloodgood said before a bewildered look crossed her face. “What was I saying? Oh yes, of course, the drama department is spectacular here at Monster High. The Gory Gazette even called last year’s performance of A Midsummer’s Night Scream ‘a real howler’!”

“Ma’am, we were not discussing the drama department,” Miss Sue Nami called out. She then approached the headmistress and whispered in her ear, “We are welcoming back the students.”

“Thank you, Miss Sue Nami. Your memory of my memory is quite helpful,” Headmistress Bloodgood acknowledged sincerely before turning to the audience. “We are absolutely ecstatic to welcome our first class of boarding students to Monster High! As the majority have come to us from faroff places, we converted the east wing’s second floor into a dormitory for them! We do hope you like it here, new ones!”

Polite applause filled the Vampitheater as Venus nudged both Rochelle and Robecca. Headmistress Bloodgood was talking about them!

“Now, to introduce another exciting new addition to our school, I would like to call Frankie Stein and Draculaura to the podium.”

Two beautiful girls slowly mounted the steps to the stage. Frankie Stein, the daughter of Frankenstein, was hand-sewn, with skin the color of mint chip ice cream, while Draculaura, the daughter of Dracula, was a peppy, pink-haired girl with perfectly sculpted white fangs.

“Hey, everyone, in case you don’t know me, I’m Frankie Stein, and this is my good friend Draculaura. It seems like only yesterday that I was the new ghoul at school, trying to find my way around campus. But now look at me! I’m here to introduce another new ghoul—or, rather, the new teacher,” Frankie said before deferring to Draculaura.

“Please give a warm welcome to Miss Sylphia Flapper, direct from Bitealy, here to teach Dragon Whispering 101,” Draculaura said enthusiastically, holding her hands up in the air to applaud.

A beautifully delicate European dragon, closely surrounded by trolls, stepped forward to wave to the audience.

“Oh, and she didn’t come alone,” Frankie added. “She’s brought a team of elderly trolls with her, who, under Miss Sue Nami’s guidance, will be patrolling the halls.”

“We trolls! Follow rules!” the oily senior citizens surrounding Miss Flapper grunted aggressively at the crowd.

“As you can see, they are still in the process of learning English,” Draculaura remarked before muttering under her breath, “and, from the looks of it, nail and hair care as well.”

Trolls, especially older ones such as these, were exceptionally good at maintaining order except where their physical appearance was concerned. They wholeheartedly refused to cut both their hair (and, sadly, that included nose hair) and their claws. But perhaps most egregious, they refused to bathe more than once every fortnight—hence the thick layer of brown grime atop their skin.

The new teacher stepped up to the microphone as Frankie and Draculaura moved aside. “Hello, lovely ghouls,” Miss Flapper uttered in a soft yet raspy voice, which enraptured all within earshot. “I am so honored to be here with you, though I do, of course, miss my colleagues and students in Bitealy. However, they were kind enough to send this amazing cavalry of trolls with me. They are not only expert hall monitors but also wild-dragon wranglers. I certainly hope you find them as delightful and charming as I do.”

Miss Flapper’s silky tone was exquisitely matched by her captivating physical beauty. With iridescent skin, a heart-shaped mouth, blazing green eyes, and long bloodred hair, the woman was absolutely breathtaking. And like all European dragons, she had not a scale or tail in sight. She was dressed head to toe in couture, skillfully tailored to fit around her delicate off-white wings.

“Talk about the bee’s knees! That woman is gorgeous,” Robecca murmured quietly.

“I wonder what she uses to exfoliate,” Rochelle pondered while self-consciously rubbing her hard granite legs. “Her skin looks so soft.”

“I can’t believe she’s a wild-dragon whisperer. They’re usually all burned and crispy after years of accidents and whatnot,” Venus muttered as Frankie Stein once again took to the podium.

“As many of you know, we are fast approaching the Dance of the Delightfully Dead. And here to tell you more about this year’s plans are reigning Scream Queen and King, Cleo de Nile and Deuce Gorgon.”

The crowd cheered loudly as a mummirific Egyptian princess with coffee-colored skin and black-and-gold tresses took to the stage. Walking immediately behind her was a handsome boy sporting sunglasses and a snake-hawk—a Mohawk of snakes.

“Hey, kids. Cleo here, with my boyfriend, Deuce. As usual, the Dance of the Delightfully Dead will be held the day after quarterly exams, at Salem’s oldest cemetery, the Skelemoanian. It’s the most important event of the year, so please dress accordingly. In other words, no matted fur, no yellow fangs, and definitely no dried scales.”

“Party starts promptly at eleven PM and ends at sunrise,” Deuce said before being rammed to the side by Miss Sue Nami, who knocked his glasses askew in the process.

And before Deuce was able to slip them back over his eyes, a troll wandered directly into his line of vision. The oily little creature instantly turned to stone, prompting Deuce to grunt in frustration. “Not again!”

“Per the schedule, the assembly is now over. All nonadult entities are to exit in a single-file line,” Miss Sue Nami instructed before shaking herself like a wet dog. “Class schedules are being e-mailed to you at this very moment. If you do not have an iCoffin phone, make friends with someone who does and then use that person’s device to check your e-mail.”

A crush of monsters filled the halls, all excitedly checking their iCoffins.

“Dear me!” Robecca babbled as she bumped into her new dorm neighbor, Cy Clops, causing her knee gear to squeak loudly. “Oops, sorry about that! Clearly it’s time for an oil change!”

“Crowds can be very dangerous,” Rochelle explained seriously. “Monsters often wind up with broken claws, bruised paws, or pulled fur.”

“Um, it’s a bunch of teenagers, not Transylvania during a full moon. I think we can handle it,” Venus replied.

“While you may choose to ignore a gargoyle’s warning, a gargoyle must never choose to ignore an opportunity to warn,” Rochelle said primly.

“Is that from a fortune cookie?” Venus scoffed, pulling her iCoffin from her recycled book bag.

“Absolutely not. Gargoyles do not believe in either fortune-tellers or fortune cookies,” Rochelle replied seriously. “We do, however, really like Chinese food.”

“Isn’t this swell? We’re in all the same classes!” Robecca said excitedly while comparing iCoffins.

“Yeah, but we didn’t get Dragon Whispering 101,” Venus grumbled. “I’m really disappointed. Reptiles love me.”

“Not me. I’ve never been too fond of whispering. It seems to me people only whisper when they’re saying things they shouldn’t be saying,” Robecca explained.

“Hey, are you guys new?” Frankie Stein approached the trio, with a zombie walking slowly behind her.

“Is it that obvious?” Venus replied.

“Well, you’re the only ones left in the hall except the trolls. I’m Frankie Stein, by the way, and this is Ghoulia Yelps.”

“Grrrrnnn,” Ghoulia mumbled, much to the confusion of Venus.

“I’m guessing that you don’t speak zombie,” Frankie said.

Venus shrugged.

“Bonjour,” Rochelle jumped in. “I am Rochelle Goyle, and this is Robecca Steam and Venus McFlytrap. We’re roommates in the new dorm.”

“That’s so voltage! You’ll love it here! Let me know if you guys need anything.”

“By any chance do you know how to get to Ghoulish Literature with Dr. Clamdestine?” Rochelle inquired, reading the details off her iCoffin.

“That’s in the Libury—straight ahead, turn right at the tombstone and left at the mounted horn. Good luck!” Frankie called out before making her way down the hall with Ghoulia following in her wake.