Ah. This Mission World was truly a unique place. Ignoring the fact that I almost shat myself three times since arriving, I could actually have a nice time here…as if! I’m a self-proclaimed coward and wimp, why the hell did I have to deal with this horror movie type scenario!? Don't characters like me always die in the climax!? This is bias, Entity! Unjust bias towards unscrupulous schemers! I demand a lawyer!

“Faster, faster, faster, faster! Why so slow? Faster!”

“Of course I’m slower! I’m using my own two legs while you're on a unicycle!”

Alright. I might have overreacted a bit much. Just because I’m a schemer doesn't mean I’ll die. Too much horror movies really is bad for the brain. It generates all sorts of bad expectations and such. See, Entity? I’m not blaming you. So if you could find it in your heart to take me away from these two freaks away from me, that would be just great.

“Its much harder for me! Do you know how hard it is to balance on a unicycle?”

“Then why the fuck are you riding one!?”

“Unicycles are part of any good mime’s equipment!”

“I’ve never heard of a mime this talkative!”

“Hahaha! Idiot, mimes have to be talkative. How else are they supposed to make children laugh?”

“Me? You’re the idiot, idiot! You're thinking of clowns not mimes!”

See what I have to deal with here? This wasn't your regular stupidity, this was advanced stupidity. The kind of stupidity that shouldn't under any circumstances be allowed to breed else it forever taint the gene pool of humanity. Stupidity that could not be cured, could not be treated, fixed or reasoned with. Killing the owner of such a mind wouldn't be a crime or a cruelty, it’d be a mercy. All bullshit aside, I really couldn't tolerate being near such a dumb individual.

“You dummy, clowns are scary, not funny. You must be a real idiot to think clowns make children laugh.”

For the sake of my continued sanity I ignored Mime’s words and, also ignoring the last member of our trio for even better reasons—she was even worse than Mime was if you can believe it—turned backwards to face our pursuer.

A face white as death and eyes just a black, hair an eerie unnatural grey that floated hauntingly around her like that of a drowned corpse, a long white robe soaked with blood which dripped down her legs, staining the ground she walked with red. Only one word could be used to explain our pursuer. Terrifying. Absolutely, pants-shittingly terrifying. Yet despite her appearance there was one factor that was keeping her from displaying the pinnacle of her terror-inducing abilities.

“Aren't you running too fast for a ghost? And why the hell are you sprinting!? Don't you know ghosts are supposed to ominously and steadily move forward? Who was your teacher at the ghost academy!? Usain fucking Bolt!?

Yes. The supposedly creepy spirit was currently chasing after the three of us like a rhino that just had its anus violated. There was no ghostly wind or unsettling chill, only a ghostly lightning bolt and the burning of my legs and chest—I was notathletic in any sense of the word. It was all so ridiculous that I’d already stopped being scared several meters ago and was just begging for the chase to be over.

How did I end up in this predicament? It's a funny story.

————

“Note to self: do not tease Orb Lady too much.”

I sat up and shook my head to clear it after the horrible landing I was subjected to. I was lucky that I hadn't broken my neck, falling on my head like that. Granted, I didn't think that Orb Lady would kill me over such a small matter, but that too was a form of luck. What if it had been Fake Orb Lady who transported me instead? Why, I’m sure she’d have dropped me on a tree in the hopes that I’d impale myself on its branches.

“Now where am I?”

Let’s see. A blackboard, around forty chairs and tables, a bulletin board at the back, and a much larger desk at the front of the room with a cliched apple placed atop it…

“Oh, God, I’m back in high school!!!”

I leapt to feet and began my mad dash out the classroom. New life or no, I would not redo that hell under any circumstances. Homework? Bullshit tests? And assholes as far as the eye could see? No thank you. The only homework I was interested in is the work from home kind. The only tests I’d have no problem doing are the maze tests at the back of cereal boxes. And the only asshole I’m interested in is myself.

With an absolutely epic running start, I leapt towards the window, aiming to break through it with all the grace of an eagle. Unfortunately, my vision for my daring escape was starkly contrasted by the reality of me smacking into it and rebounding off like an obese carrier pigeon. As I flew backwards I attempted to twist my body so that I wouldn't end up crashing into anything.

Guess how well that turned out?

There was a loud smack followed by several equally painful-sounding noises, and I was leaning against the wall opposite of the window, dizzy as all hell, and possibly trapped in a tomb of school furniture. I tried wiggling and pushing the junk off me to no avail. The tables and chairs clung to me like a needy husband to his dominatrix wife, absolutely refusing to let me go. It's a shame I didn't have a whip to discipline them, or would that make them cling to me harder? Were they even masochists? Just where did school furniture fit on the sliding scale of masochism and sadism? Even better, did school furniture even have kinks? The intuitive answer for most people would be no since they were nonliving things, but my teddy bear was a ranging alcoholic with a massive foot and stocking fetish so that argument was moot.

Wait. “What the hell am I even thinking about?” Mr. Snuggles wasn't an alcoholic, he was a drug addict. Silly me, getting the two mixed up.

From my secure spot in my fortress of wood and metal—yup, this thing was a fortress, totally not a terrifying iron maiden from which I’ll never escape—I looked around the room, taking note of a few peculiarities that I had missed early on due to my panic.

First: the bulletin board was covered in drawings, the scrawling, crappy kind that only kindergarteners with poor artistic sense could make. Second: the apple on the teacher’s desk was fake. I’d given quite a few fake apples in my day and that was absolutely the kind of apple that only looks delicious but is nothing more than a piece of colored plastic. And third: there was writing on the blackboard. It was in red chalk as well, guess the Entity really wanted to up that creepy factor.

————

World: The Abandoned School

World Type: Mystery

Mission: Uncover the secrets of the Abandoned School.

Background: The School has been closed for many years, yet shadows of the horrible events that occurred within still haunt its walls. Are the rumors true? Or Is the truth far more terrifying? Only by exploring its abandoned halls and uncovering its darkest secrets will you be able to find out.

Details: Detective Edgar Allen went to investigate the mysteries of the Abandoned School but disappeared in the process. Before he disappeared, however, he was able to compile his findings into six dossiers. His dossiers may contain the key to solving the mystery.

Rewards: Dependent on the gravity and relevance of the uncovered secrets.

Time Limit: 7 Days

————

Great! Now I knew what I had to do and how to do it. Mystery? No problem there. You're looking at someone who spent his life solving the greatest mystery in the world: people. Let me tell you, despite how easy it was to read them, what I read hardly, if ever, made a lick of sense. Compared to the clusterfuck that was the human mind, this was gonna be easy as pie. Not so great, however, was the fact that I was completely unable to move or even break free of my pris—I mean fortress. I have no idea how crashing into a bunch of desks and chairs resulted in the fucking Gordian Knot, but then again it’s not like bouncing off of a pane of glass made any more sense.

“Sigh, is this how my great legend is going to end? Oh, cruel destiny, my second life has barely even begun yet it has already been lost! Curse thy name! May the sins of thine father’s forever—Huh?”

All of a sudden, rudely interrupting my monologue, the chairs and desks confining me suddenly started vibrating like they were made of sex toys rather than wood. The feeling was rather pleasurable but the scene was a tad too spooky for me to make the most of out of it. One by one the furniture confining me pulled themselves from the heap and slid silently back to their previous positions. It was so quick that only a few seconds passed before the entire room was back to exactly as it had been prior to my accident.

Not missing a beat, I stood up, stretched until my back and arms let out satisfying pops and bowed. “Many thanks, ghosties and ghouls for your help!” Well, after seeing such a clearly supernatural scene, what else was I supposed to do?