monsieur D’eath, there you are! I have been looking for you for days,” Rochelle called out dramatically as she entered the Libury.

“Why were you looking for me?” Mr. D’eath asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his bloodshot eyes at Rochelle.

“I wanted to check in and see how your date with Miss Flapper went.”

“She is going to save us all, keep us on the straight and narrow, and make sure we reach our destiny,” Mr. D’eath said mechanically.

“Pardonnez-moi, but I am a bit confused. You are speaking of Miss Flapper like she is your life coach, not your ghoulfriend. What happened?”

“Is that some sort of dig? A dead man with a life coach?” Mr. D’eath snapped.

“Not at all. I just meant that Miss Flapper doesn’t sound like your date so much as your guru.”

“Do not find fault with the Flap,” Mr. D’eath admonished coldly.

“The Flap? Is that your nickname for her?” Rochelle asked, confused.

“That is how she is now formally referred to at Monster High,” he announced. “Anyone speaking ill of her or calling her by her former name shall be met with detention.”

‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware of the name change or the policy change regarding free speech,” Rochelle huffed.

“The Flap had a feeling you were trying to undermine her, to turn us against her work,” Mr. D’eath continued, his eyes growing wide with paranoia.

“Monsieur D’eath, I haven’t a clue what you are talking about.”

“She said you’d say that,” Mr. D’eath grumbled before releasing his trademark sigh.

“I think I’d best be going.” Rochelle turned toward the door.

“Not too far now. The Flap is going to want to talk to you and your friends,” Mr. D’eath said calmly, sending a chill up Rochelle’s stony spine.

Feeling both unnerved and hurt by Mr. D’eath’s behavior, Rochelle quickly exited the Libury and darted into the corridor. As she hurried back to the dormitory and the comfort of her room, she felt the familiar tickle of tears in her eyes. It wasn’t so much what Mr. D’eath had said that upset Rochelle; it was the manner in which he had said it. There was a distinct lack of personality in his voice, something she had never heard before.

“Though I lack a medical degree, I believe my diagnosis to be accurate. Monsieur D’eath has gone mad! Complètement fou! He’s lost all touch with reality. And perhaps worst of all, he seems very ill-tempered!” the normally rational Rochelle cried upon bursting into the Chamber of Gore and Lore.

“Forget about Mr. D’eath!” Robecca replied hysterically. “Miss Flapper is holding strange whispering sessions at her MALL meetings. They hiss at one another like snakes! What in the name of the flea’s sneeze do you make of that?”

“I’d say we’re dealing with a monster whisperer,” Venus stated firmly as she entered the room, carefully locking the door behind her.

“A monster whisperer! What does that even mean?” Robecca squealed.

“It means Miss Flapper’s able to use her voice to hypnotize monsters,” Venus explained.

“But why would she want to do such a thing?” Rochelle gasped. “Monsieur D’eath! Ah! She must have gotten to him already!”

“What in the foul owl are we going to do?” Robecca asked nervously.

“Robecca, there is no need to grind your gears! All we need to do is notify Headmistress Bloodgood of the situation, and she’ll take care of everything,” Rochelle stated calmly, trying her best to ease Robecca’s frazzled nerves. “But can the headmistress handle a situation like this? She’s so scattered right now. And yes, I realize that I’m the pot calling the kettle black,” Robecca exclaimed.

“You’re right—Headmistress Bloodgood is too spaced out,” Venus declared. “We’ll go straight to Miss Sue Nami instead. She’s rude and pushy, but she gets things done.”

“The sooner we act, the better. The situation is already seriously out of control,” Rochelle added, nervously tapping her fingers against Roux’s back.

“Okay, let’s do this! We’ve got a damp woman to find,” Venus said as she threw open the door.

After checking in the main office, the threesome headed straight to the graveyard, having heard that Miss Sue Nami was investigating a possible gardening infraction. The planting of unregulated greenery was a serious offense, as the cross-pollination of the wrong plants could have dire consequences. As they turned the corner to the graveyard, they were met with a most frightening scene just beyond the cemetery’s spindly metal gate. Miss Flapper, dressed in a lush, red velvet dress, was engaged in hushed conversation with a student. However, this was not just any student: It was Deuce Gorgon.

Rochelle instantly gasped, throwing her small stony hands over her mouth.

“In the name of the bee’s bonnet, what do we do?” Robecca mumbled, looking to Venus for a plan.

“Nothing,” the vine-draped girl replied as she watched Miss Flapper’s perfect pout pressed close to Deuce’s ear. “It’s too late.”

Deuce’s face went blank before morphing back to normal, just as the other students’ faces had earlier, in the school’s main corridor.

“Deuce!” Rochelle called out in a futile attempt to override Miss Flapper’s voice.

Unfortunately, all Rochelle managed to do was attract the attention of the deranged teacher. Her face ablaze with wild excitement, Miss Flapper charged straight for the trio.

“Ghouls! I must speak with you!” the stylish dragon called out. Venus, Robecca, and Rochelle exchanged tense looks before turning and racing away.

After rounding two corners and dashing across the courtyard, they were stopped in their tracks by a hoarse voice.

“Becca? Benus? Bochelle?” a troll grunted with a rather pronounced lisp.

“How do you know our names?” Rochelle questioned the troll, her stone heart pounding nervously.

Venus snorted. “Well, they aren’t exactly our names, unless you’ve changed yours to Bochelle.”

“Venus, now is not the time for humor!” Rochelle snapped.

“The Flap want see you now!” the troll barked, spraying all three with thick balls of spittle.

Venus slowly stepped away from the grotesque little creature. “I’m sorry, but we don’t speak Trollish.”

“No leave! The Flap see you now!” the troll screamed louder.

“Pardonnez-moi? Monsieur Troll, I am so sorry, but my English is not very good,” Rochelle said as she and Robecca quickly followed a fast-retreating Venus.

“No run! Stop!”

“We need to get out of here! Now!” Venus hollered as the three girls broke into an all-out sprint.

And though Rochelle’s stone legs moved more slowly than the others’, she was still far faster than the pigeon-toed troll. In fact, so slow was the oily little creature that he couldn’t even pass the rogue bullfrog bouncing next to him down the hall. This was, of course, a disheartening situation for the troll, one that he would keep to himself for fear of ridicule.

“Deary me! I don’t think I can handle any more excitement! I might blow a gasket!” Robecca blurted out as steam exploded from both her ears.

“Cool your gaskets! I hear the sound of sloshing,” Venus said triumphantly. “Miss Sue Nami!” she cried upon spotting the thick, damp wall of a woman. “We need to speak with you! It’s an emergency.”

“You have thirty seconds, nonadult entity. I am in the middle of a plant crisis in the graveyard.”

“Miss Flapper has put the campus under a spell! We’re not sure why, but she’s definitely done it!” Robecca explained, steam dripping from her metal forehead.

“That is the craziest thing I have ever heard,” Miss Sue Nami barked incredulously.

“I know, but it’s true,” Rochelle pleaded with the stern-faced woman.

“I never said it wasn’t true. I just said it was the craziest thing I had ever heard,” Miss Sue Nami retorted in her usual no-nonsense manner. “I must admit, I’ve had suspicions about Miss Flapper since day one! I don’t trust popular people. I never have, and I never will.”

“Thank heavens for your unhappy school years,” Venus mumbled to herself.

“You needn’t worry. I am going to handle this situation immediately,” Miss Sue Nami said confidently. “Might I suggest you go to your room and stay out of the fray?”

“I think that is a very sound idea,” Rochelle immediately piped up.

“I should have known something like this would happen. What kind of a self-respecting teacher gives herself a nickname?” And with that, Miss Sue Nami marched off, her feet pounding loudly against the ground.