In all my years, I have never seen such beauty and fine craftsmanship,” Rochelle babbled, her eyes glazed over with wonder, as the others barreled into the room behind her.

“In the name of flora and fauna, you scared me!” Venus huffed as she and the others blew out their candles. “You couldn’t just have said that the spider ghoul wasn’t here? Or that you were okay?”

“Wow! This place is fangtastic!” Robecca proclaimed loudly, her hazel eyes widening to take in the sights.

Dangling from exposed beams, an array of webbed lanterns bathed the room in warm candlelight. Small, delicately crafted snowflakes decorated the walls, creating both a wondrous and wintry effect. And smack-dab in the middle of the room was a fluffy banana-shaped hammock, which seemed to invite all who saw it to take a nap. Long and billowy curtains, a tightly knit rug, and a wardrobe filled out the rest of the enchanting loftlike space.

“This ghoul is clearly an incredible talent. An absolute genius,” Rochelle marveled. “Just think what Clawdeen could create with this material!”

Silky-maned werewolf Clawdeen Wolf was the school’s foremost designer, not to mention the latest winner of the prestigious Moanatella Ghostier Fashion Fellowship.

“Um, hello?” Venus exclaimed with palpable irritation. “The spider ghoul’s also working with Miss Flapper. And most likely involved with Headmistress Bloodgood’s kidnapping.”

“Venus is right. Whether she’s talented or not shouldn’t change anything,” Cy muttered in agreement.

“Boo-la-la, I cannot believe I allowed myself to be swayed by finely woven fabrics and captivating designs. The fact that she created this boo-tiful space is completely irrelevant,” Rochelle admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

The granite ghoul then lowered her head and silently smarted over her ability to be distracted at such a turbulent time. It was behavior not only unbecoming to a gargoyle but downright irresponsible. After all, Headmistress Bloodgood was missing, and what could be more important than that? Well, maybe a few things, but certainly not fabrics.

“Someone’s got a bit of a glove addiction,” Venus surmised as she looked through the spider ghoul’s wardrobe for clues.

“In fairness, she does have six hands,” Cy responded as he pulled back the floor-to-ceiling curtains and looked out the small window at Monster High’s front lawn. “The storm seems to have passed, so hopefully the power will be back on soon.”

“Thank heavens! I can only imagine the nibbling Penny and Roux are being subjected to by Chewy. That plant can barely see even when the lights are on,” Robecca babbled as her knees began to squeak.

“What can I say? He’s a got an insatiable appetite and poor vision. Admittedly, it’s not the best combination,” Venus replied. “Oh, and, Robecca? I think it may be time for an oil change at Grind ’n’ Gears. Unless, of course, you like sounding like an old furnace.”

“An old furnace?! Heavens to Betsy! What could be worse?”

“Being disassembled again, sharing a toothbrush with a troll, having a piano land on your foot, sharing a hairbrush with a troll, rust, an empty boiler,” Rochelle answered seriously, and then paused. “You weren’t actually asking, were you?”

“No, but I still appreciate the information. It helps keep things in perspective,” Robecca responded, stifling laughter.

Still standing in front of the small window, Cy spotted something at the far end of the ledge. It appeared to be a crumpled receipt, but he couldn’t say for sure. Rather surprisingly, given the sheer size of their eyes, Cyclopes had notoriously poor vision. In fact, according to the Encyclopedia, the island of Cyclopes strictly forbade its inhabitants to drive motorized vehicles, use industrial machinery, or act as eyewitnesses in legal proceedings.

Curious, Cy stepped closer to the far end of the windowsill, which brought a crumpled photograph of a castle into focus. The large stone fortress with gothic arches, turrets, and a moat instantly ignited a memory in the one-eyed boy. Earlier that semester in Monstory, the class had studied architecture of the Old World, the land across the ocean, and this was definitely it. There simply weren’t buildings like this in the New World, or as it was informally known, the “Boo World.”

After staring at the photograph for a few seconds, Cy turned it over and saw a clumsily scrawled message: Wydowna, never forget where you come from or whom you serve.

“Ghouls, I think you’re going to want to see this,” Cy stated ominously, instantly inciting the interest of Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus, who hurried over to check out the photograph.

“ ‘Wydowna’ is her name,” Rochelle muttered while reading the back of the picture. “Well, it certainly explains all the monogrammed Ws on her clothing.”

“ ‘Never forget where you come from or whom you serve,’ ” Robecca repeated aloud. “I don’t like the sound of that… unless of course she’s a waitress.”

“Becs,” Venus said with a sigh.

“Wishful thinking?” Robecca muttered.

“You could say that,” Venus replied drily.

“Did anyone notice there’s a panel missing from the wall?” Rochelle asked as she crossed the room and peered inside the exposed crawl space.

“Now we know who visited Miss Flapper,” Venus stated, referring to the ghoul they heard traipsing across their ceiling and then descending into Miss Flapper’s room.

“In light of the message on this photograph, I think it wise we finish searching the room and get out of here as soon as possible. It’s to our advantage that Wydowna, Madame Flapper, and whomever they’re serving don’t know we’re onto them,” Rochelle explained to the others.

“I agree; having them on our tail will only make finding Headmistress Bloodgood more difficult,” Cy remarked.

“Well, there’s nowhere left to look anyway, except maybe under the carpet,” Venus said as she bent down and pushed back the rug.

The faint sound of scuffling began to emanate from the crawl space. And though it was a soft and muffled noise, it instantly grabbed the foursome’s attention. Adrenaline rushed through their bodies as they exchanged tense expressions. Venus immediately put back the rug and tried to stand. But she couldn’t. One of the thick green vines that grew out of her arms was wedged between the floorboards.

“I’m stuck,” Venus hissed, frantically pulling at her vine.

“Plant down! Plant down!” Robecca cried in alarm, steam pouring out of her nostrils.

“Quel désastre! Steam and webs do not mix. Or rather, when they do it becomes like glue,” Rochelle explained, feverishly tapping her claws against her cheek.

“Come on,” Cy said as he threw his sweater over Robecca’s face and pulled her back toward the path to the stairs.

“We can’t leave Venus. We have a no-plant-left-behind policy,” Robecca mumbled from beneath the fabric while the sounds of the spider ghoul approaching grew louder.

“Rochelle’s helping her,” Cy whispered as the two disappeared from view.

“S’il ghoul plaît, Venus, you must relax,” Rochelle said calmly, attempting to maneuver the vine out from between two planks of wood.

“It’s hard to relax when I can hear her coming,” Venus murmured as the distinctive scrambling sounds from the crawl space continued to increase in volume.

“Almost got it,” Rochelle said through gritted teeth.

Seconds later Rochelle lifted a plank of wood from the floor, freeing Venus’s vine and exposing a cache of hidden papers.

“I never thought there could be an upside to getting a vine stuck, but clearly I was wrong,” Venus mumbled, a smile creeping across her face.

“While I admit your vine getting stuck has proven advantageous, may I remind you that the spider ghoul is just about here?” Rochelle whispered, keeping her eyes trained on the crawl space across the room.

Venus whipped her head around to look at the opening in the wall and then nodded at Rochelle.

“You’re right. There isn’t time to read these papers now.”

“Exactly! Allez-y!” Rochelle said as she gripped Venus’s green arm and attempted to stand.

“Not yet,” Venus replied brusquely as she pulled out her iCoffin and began snapping photos of the documents.

“Je suis tellement serieuse! We must go right now,” Rochelle implored. “Wydowna is just about here.”

“Just a sec, I’m almost done.”

“C’est trop tard, Venus. It’s too late,” Rochelle uttered faintly as she heard the distinct sound of a creature crawling into the room.

Venus dropped the papers and silently pushed the floorboard back in place. She then turned toward Rochelle and shook her head as if to say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t listen.” For though they were momentarily concealed by the dimness of the room, discovery was only a matter of time. Anxious anticipation overwhelmed the ghouls, leaving them with tightened chests and mouths as dry as mummy wrappings. After quickly assessing the options, Venus decided it best she announce their presence to Wydowna. However, just as she started to move, Rochelle grabbed her hand and pulled her to the floor. The granite ghoul then draped the long and billowy curtain from the nearby window over them. And though this hiding spot was hardly deft, the faint lighting did wonders for their disguise.

After Wydowna lit a couple of additional candles, Venus and Rochelle were able to catch a glimpse of her, albeit through the gauzy curtain. Sleek and slender with pitch-black skin and long flame-colored locks, Wydowna was a ghoul few could forget. And not simply because she had six arms and six eyes, four of which simply looked like teardrop-shaped swaths of red on her forehead. Dressed in black knee-high boots and a slinky webbed dress dyed the same shade as her hair, Wydowna’s style was the perfect mixture of strength and femininity.

“Where are you?” Wydowna purred, sending chills up the ghouls’ spines. “There’s no point hiding. I know you’re in here.”

Venus and Rochelle held their breaths and closed their eyes, unsure how to handle the situation. How did Wydowna know they were in there, but not where they were hiding? Could she smell them? Or was it something else? Was it a spider sense?

“You don’t want my fangs to fill with venom, do you?” Wydowna asked in a frighteningly calm manner as she made her way toward the ghouls.

Venom?! Venom!? Venom?!

The word echoed in Venus’s and Rochelle’s minds as they pondered the catastrophic effects the spider’s serum could have on both plants and stones.