School of Hard Knocks
Hellblazer #5 MAY, Year One	by Curt Fernlund

I never liked school much.

I didn't hate it, mind, but I was what was called back then a 'rebellious youth". Way I 'ad it figured after living fourteen years of hell with me Da, well there wasn't much left that they could teach me that I needed to know.

I quit school about the same time as I 'eaded out for London. Bright lights, big city; that was what I wanted back then. I was going to set the world aflame! 'Course I was stupid back then too. Didn't know me arse from a hole in the ground 'n' consequently got it 'anded right back to me. They drug me back 'ome, not kickin' and screamin' but with me tail tucked right up between me legs.

I went back to the hell I thought I'd left behind. Back to me lovin' father, 'n' back to school as well. Odd thing was that me marks were never that bad when I put a little effort into it. I had a knack for Grammar it seemed, 'n' a way with words. I actually liked History, except that learnin' the royal line backwards 'n' forwards from Charlemagne crap. Load a' bollocks that! Who gives a rat's arse 'ow inbred the bloody Windsor's were? And there was nothing as useless as kicking a ball all over creation for an hour everyday.

Still, I 'ung about long enough to get me walkin' papers. My first trip South showed me that right enough. Man's nothing without an education. 'Course that didn't stop me pissin' on the wall soon as I commenced me way out the front door.

Heh…

They say you can't go home again. But I guess you can go back to school…

'Course it was rainin'. There's only a few places on the planet with weather so buggered; New York in the summer, Los Angeles in general, 'n' drear old London come right to mind. Scientists say it's the 'Greenhouse Effect'. Years of abuse by man 'n' machine tearin' the hell outta the Ozone. The build up of pollution 'n' pesticides soakin' up the 'eat, trappin' it like a blanket. Aerosol gases so the Missus' hair stays straight 'n' the Mister's armpits don't get too ripe-

Bugger that…

I think it's 'is Lordship sittin' on High 'n' 'avin' a go at us. He's got a bit a wit that one. It's 'ard to see sometimes, but it's there. You just 'ave to know where to look.

He sees us all gathering in London 'n' thinks, Right, I'll piss on that lot today! He rolls in the fog 'n' the damp. He makes it rain for days on end. Then when we've just about 'ad enough 'n' we're ready to throw in the bloody towel 'n' move on he tosses us a bone 'n' lets the sun back out for a bit. 'Course soon as we settle down again he turns it all around one more time. Bloody wanker…

He has a plan though. I learned that the 'ard way. Though what it is? Only Hisself knows that. It's in the bibles. Not the Bible, 'n' not in black and white, mind. It's in the whole bloody lot. In every book that wrote down the Word. 'Course, until somebody reads between the lines 'n' puts all the religious trite in one context, well, we're on our own more or less. The Commandments and Scriptures, the Revelations of the Koran; they're a crock! Thou Shalt not this! Thou Shalt Not that! Moses wrote that 'cos 'e didn't understand. Mohammed wasn't any better. And Buddha was a bigger con job than Yours Truly.

No, God only 'ad one thing to say to 'is favorite monkeys, that bein' us. One Commandment…

Live and learn!

I took that one to heart. I learned to come in outta the rain, which is why I was standin' under the shelter of a construction overhang across from St. Mary's Blessed Shroud of Enlightenment smokin' a fag 'n' waiting for the weather to break. The sun came up about an hour ago, not that you could tell. The clouds were thick and had that lead look like it was going to rain the day away, 'n' most of the night as well. Of course, with the rain came the cold. Wasn't fit out for man or beast. 'Course I been called both in my day, so I figured I'd be fine.

I took a long drag off me Silk Cut 'n' jus' watched the school for a bit. It was old enough, built in the last century by the Catholics onto the lime-washed church that used to stand there. They used to do that back in the olden days; wash the exteriors of the buildings they thought were important in lime. Staved off the 'evil spirits' and the shit blowin' up off the river. Stayed that way for a time, right up into the Forties when the Blitz of the War bombed it out 'n' closed it down. The church itself was shattered but the rectory 'n' the school survived the worst with a little patchwork. The Catholics sold the lot to the state a few years back, don't know why. Pope probably needed a wax job or some such. Doesn't matter. The Conservatives- Bless 'em- fixed it up 'n' reopened the school awhile back, part of their move to clean up White Chapel. They're still tryin'…

There's a lot of bad blood soaked into the ground around White Chapel, 'n' the whole a' the East End for that matter. Not just the Ripper, mind. Lot of deaths down there over the years, violent, horrible deaths. People starving in the rookeries. People getting raped 'n' robbed 'n' cut, men and women both. 'Crimes of Passion' some smarmy little bastard labeled it. Death's death, but it's the way you go out that matters in the end. And down in the Chapel they figured every vile way to go that there was. I did me homework though, 'n' aside from Mary Nicholls wandering by on the night Jack had her there wasn't anything too shocking in the closets at St. Mary's.

I couldn't figure at first what had drawn me out of me bed before sunup on a miserable morning like it was 'n' led me to the school. I get these feelings sometimes, 'n' there's nothing to do but ride 'em out 'n' see where they lead. It's not premonition. I don't go that route. What they are is a pain in the arse, but it's part of the job as well, so what can you do? There was something in St. Mary's drew me out, but it wasn't the land or the building. Something inside then?

I saw the Custodian unlock the doors just after six. He was a fat one, twenty stones easy and all of it gut. He stepped out for a fag standin' under the eaves for a bit so I got a good look at 'im. He smelled a' vice, but that was all. Dirty magazines and a bottle behind the boiler no doubt, but nothing to write home. I watched 'im scratch 'isself for a bit, until he propped the doors 'n' went back inside. The day was jus' starting.

It was about thirty minutes before the professors started stragglin' in. There was one and another, then a pack of four all at once. Nothing special there though either that I could see. Typical working class drudges that had a dream once upon a time. They had to want to do what they do. Used ta be the nuns did their job. They had to, 'cos no one else wanted it. I can't help thinkin' that if the penguins were still about, I wouldn't 'ave been there t'all.

I flicked me butt into the overflowing gutters 'n' stepped out into the downpour. The rain hadn't let up a bit, and as soon as I stepped out of the overhang I felt the wind lickin' up me arse. It was buggered chill, and I shivered lookin' up at the thick, dark clouds. After the initial shock wore off I have to admit that it felt sort of good, cleansing even. Woke me up, right enough. 'Sides, me raincoat needed a washing anyhow. I pulled up me collar and jogged across the lane, dodgin' the puddles as best I could 'eadin' right for the front doors 'n' the lion's mouth. Time to get the show on the road…

I shoved me way through the front doors an shook meself off. I seriously thought about leaving me coat off at the dry cleaners after I'd done the school. It'd gotten a bit rank, and the rain always brings out the best of the smells. I lit another fag to ease the pain 'n' started off. It was dark inside despite the overhead lights. Dim really, like the shadows were hanging on for dear life. It was quiet too. My shoes echoed and squeaked on the old slick tiles as I moved on down the hallways checking out the dark, deserted rooms. It brought back a lot of old memories, both good and bad.

The school had three stories; fairly standard for the time it was built. The State had turned the rectory into the Headmaster's offices and Administration, but I found it empty and cool to the touch. They had added on a gymnasium after the War in the construction boom that rebuilt London. Fairly state of the art for back then, but now it was just hollow and out of date. It smelled of sweat and old socks like most any other with rusting showers and stained toilets. The classrooms I passed were cold and empty. I gave the lunchroom a quick glance but steered clear for the most. God knows what the old ladies in hairnets sacrificed in there on a daily basis. I remembered Friday's gray casserole and that rubbery golden Jell-O with bits of something frozen inside from my own youth. That was a horror chamber all its own, and I didn't need me signals getting fouled.

Whatever I was looking for hadn't arrived yet.

I saw things though. Little patches of lingering darkness here and there, like cobwebs in the corners of a few of the empty classrooms, and in the halls. I'd seen the largest patch in one of the History classes on the second story, so I headed back there to see what I might see.

There were children in and about, students just wanderin' in for the morning classes. Not many yet, one or two 'ere and there, a few little cliques. I saw a gaggle of science nerds standing about in the hallway out side of the Computer Labs. You know the type; thick glasses, briefcases instead of the current fad backpack, pocket full of pens and a PDA. Times 'n' styles may change, the faces, but the groups stay the same. They gave me a queer look when I passed and I could smell the fear. Why I don't have a clue? With me hair spiked 'n' slicked, the state a' me clothes 'n' walkin' the 'alls with a fag in 'and you'd think I would've been their hero. Their type likes the anti-hero; the Terminator, that Reeves kid in that computer movie or the short Canuck with the claws. I give 'em me best what the fuck you lookin' at? scowl 'n' pass on by vanishing around the corner in a cloud a' blue smoke.

They all 'ad a bit of the darkness about 'em. Nothing big, mind. They weren't being possessed by pit fiends or the like, but there was definitely something about that lot that was a bit off. Like they were- I dunno- thinking bad thoughts. I shrugged and moved on.

There was someone in the classroom by the time I got back to it. I glanced through the wire-meshed window set in the door and saw a woman sitting at the desk. She looked to be just a bit older than me, but the years had taken their toll. She had a decent enough body, and a great set a' pins, but her hair was streaked with gray and her face was showin' lines at the edges of 'er eyes and in deep grooves about 'er lips 'n' cheeks. She was sippin' at a container a' tea, squinting at a stack of papers piled high on 'er desk that I imagined she was grading. She was shakin' 'er 'ead, and every once in awhile I could see 'er breasts swell in a sigh. There was no dark bits clingin' to 'er, and as I watched, I got one of those amazing moments of inspiration that frighten me sometimes. I pushed the door and sidled into the room…

"Sorry, luv…"

The woman lurched startled in her seat, and I tried not to smile beyond me usual charm.

"Who're you then?" she asked finally, peering through the thin glasses that 'ad been danglin' on a ratty strap round 'er neck. I strolled right up beside 'er desk whilst she glared at me fag without sayin' anything more, so I pressed on-

"Name's John Constantine, 'n' I'm a bit turned around I think." I grinned, trying my best to put 'er at ease but she was looking me up 'n' down like I'd caught the Black Death 'n' drug it into 'er room. I leaned a hand on the corner of the desk trying my best to appear casual like.

"I'm the fill-in for Professor Jones. Sick you see, bit under the weather. Lost my way though, luv. Hoping maybe you can point me in the right direction?"

I could see her mind turning. It was a good bet that there was a Jones on the staff, but it was still a guess, 'n' I could see 'er trying to put a face to the name. I gave her a curious glance then, leaning in a little closer-

"What?" she asked, licking 'er lips. I frowned-

"You all right, luv? You're a trifle pale yourself."

"I feel fine!" she sniffed, turning her chair to face me. Sweat was starting to bead on 'er brow 'n' upper lip. "It's just warm in here. The weather… Bloody furnace never works right in this place."

"I see." I nodded in understanding. It was a bit of a dirty trick I was playing, but I needed her out of the room. Out of the school would be even better. A bit of suggestion, a bit more of the look and she'd start believing she had cancer! It just depended on how tired and stubborn she was. I could tell right off that she was exhausted 'n' stressed. I never saw a teacher that wasn't. She was a stubborn one though, so I turned up the heat just a tad.

"Professor Jones?" I shifted position, lettin' the smoke from me fag drift 'er way. I shifted again, suggesting, trying to look uncomfortable, and rubbin' me own chin like I was feelin' poorly. She started to turn a pale shade a' green-

"Jones… I don't… I-"

She stood on shaky legs and I reached out to steady 'er. She swayed a bit, trying to decide if she could make it to the loo I imagined, then she scooped up her bag 'n' headed for the door in a rush.

"I don't-" Her voice choked as she tried to hold in whatever she'd eaten that morning. She staggered towards the door, shouldering her bag as she picked up her pace. I could hear her gagging-

"Don't worry, Missus!" I shouted after, followin' 'er to the door. "I'll tell the HM! You get on home 'n' take care of yourself!" I don't know if she heard me, but she knocked into one young bird, spewin' papers about the hall on 'er way to the loo 'n' a second later the lavatory door slammed with a boom.

I smiled as I draped me jacket over the back a' the chair 'n' settled in. I was feeling just a little guilty, but it'd pass. I needed the teacher out because whatever was in the school seemed thickest in her room. I couldn't explain it yet, but whatever it was I'm certain she'd rather spend a bit a' time kissin' the commode rather'n be spitted for the after school sacrifice.

I was wondering what ta do next- I still had about twenty minutes until the first bell- so I started thumbin' through the papers that she'd been grading. It took me about half a minute to see why she'd been shaking her head. I sighed 'n' picked up the red marker she'd tossed aside when 'er stomach rebelled. I loosened me necktie 'n' started slashin'. It was the least I could do…

I was scratchin' me head over young Bobby Wayne's ideas over the Battle of Britain when the first of the students started strollin' through the door a few minutes later. I glanced up and saw one a' the computer geeks from that morning givin' me an odd look. I smiled, leaned back in me chair and tapped ash on the hardwood floor. He stared shocked-like for a bit, shiftin' from foot to foot like he had ta' go to the loo, 'n' I got a better look at him.

He was a skinny kid, a stereotypical nerd outta Webster's. His hair was slicked back with too much gel, and his face looked like it might explode with acne if he took too deep a breath. His uniform was starched 'n' spotless, but about two sizes too small. He was maybe sixteen in body, but probably twice that in the head. None a' that mattered though. I was looking past the façade of youth 'n' checking what was inside. What caught me eye right off was the little black flecks circlin' his astral glow like moths about a street lamp. I'd seen the same before, like a swirl of snow, usually about folks that had gone off the edge and communed with the darker side of life. It made them cold and dark themselves, and most folk could sense it. Kid that age shouldn've been lookin' that lost.

"Mornin'!" I said, tryin' to get him movin' again. He blinked 'n' glanced back out into the hall, probably lookin' for his friends.

"W-where's Professor Wallace?" he stuttered, finally coming inside.

"Went home sick. I'm your replacement for the day. Mister Constantine…" I nodded towards the seats, hopin' he'd catch the drift. He wasn't too dense, and hurried to his desk as the doorway filled again.

The students filed in more or less a steady stream for the last few minutes before the bell. I watched, lookin' the entire lot over one by one but several passed without the slightest shiver. Right near First Bell though a young bloke paused in the doorway that fairly reeked of corruption. He was a muscular one, virile lookin' with a mop a' wavy blonde hair 'n' a picture perfect face. He gave some bird a peck and swaggered in like he owned the place. Seeing me behind the desk 'e pulled up short though and gave me the once over. He was an arrogant bastard I could tell, 'n' had a football pin on 'is lapel. Top jock inna' school I imagined. He gave me a look that was half sneer, half smirk 'n' strolled right up to the desk. I gave 'im me best grin right back, blowin' smoke over 'is 'ead.

"Who're you?" he asked, lookin' down 'is nose like I was somethin' foul he'd stepped in. He wasn't too far off-

"Mister Constantine. I'll be substituting for Professor Wallace today." He sniffed and gave me that smirk again. I could see the dark flecks spiralin' all the faster round his body whilst he looked me over. I could tell that he didn't think too much a' me too. The feelin' was mutual. I had more'n me share of run-ins with the school jock-squad back in me own days. I was 'opin' this prick was the cause of whatever was 'appenin' at St. Mary's. I'd enjoy takin' him down a notch or ten.

He smiled brightly then, flashin' a mouth full a' perfect white teeth. He held out his hand, which surprised me-

"Welcome, Sir. I hope you enjoy your stay. Bradley Soames…"

I took 'is 'and and shook it. It looked large but smooth and clean. He had a grip though, and naturally he squeezed hard. It hurt, but I took it, tryin' not to let me own smile falter. I squeezed back but I don't think he even noticed.

"You need anything, just ask Sir. I sort of help out Professor Wallace from time to time as well."

"I'm sure you do. Just take your seat for now. I'll call out if I need you."

"Right!"

He spun about and sauntered to his seat, nodding at his mates as he passed. I could see he at least thought that he was in charge, and most of the rest did as well. As he took his seat the first bell rang and there was a mad dash of children poppin' through the doors in a rush, so I turned my attention away. Not before I saw 'im whisperin' with the computer kid, however. Oddly, I couldn't picture that pair as chums.

When the second bell rang I got up to close the door. I kicked the prop up 'n' started to push it closed when something pushed back. I looked out 'n' then up into the face a' one a' the ugliest blokes I'd seen in awhile. He was taller'n me by a head and almost twice as wide with a neck as thick as me thigh. He was pure muscle 'n' he gave me a glare like he expected me to back away nice 'n' slow. So naturally I just stood there-

"Can I help you mate?" He jus' stared down at me like 'e was tryin' to decide if I was worth steppin' on or over, then glanced about the room for a bit. Finally he gave the door another shove and held it open. I blinked, suddenly remembering one of the few reasons that I'd liked about going to school.

She was maybe seventeen, but she had a body on 'er that a woman twice that would've died to have. Back in my days I had hated the whole school uniform bit. It was always too tight and looked stupid I thought, at least until that bloke in AC/DC started wearin' one. For some reason though, the birds always made it look good. The little tart in the doorway was no exception either. The gray jacket and plaid skirt fit 'er jus' fine, but the pressed white blouse underneath was strainin' at its last buttons. She had a set a' tits that wouldn't quit, 'n' loved to show it, apparently. She had long blonde hair that I swear sparkled as it flowed about 'er shoulders, 'n' the biggest, brightest blue eyes I'd ever seen. She was fuckin' gorgeous, 'n' seventeen. Seventeen! I had to repeat that to meself a few times…

Her aura was also lost in a flurry of black sparkling flakes. She was neck-deep in whatever shit was pilin' up at the school, as much if not more so than the computer geek and the football star. Too, there was something else, though I couldn't quite finger it right then. It was right on the tip, but lost when she flashed 'er smile, tumblin' right outta me 'ead.

"Hullo," she said, and I've heard angels with raspier voices, "I'm Pam. Pamela Dawson. Is Professor Wallace not here?" Her body and attitude seemed like a little lost girl. Her huge eyes were full of wonder as she chewed on a lock of her golden hair.

"Sorry luv." I could feel me skin 'eat up as me voice cracked. It was getting warm too, just like Wallace had imagined. I could hear the class behind me, whispering and giggling. "She's out sick. I'm Mister Constantine." That was about the tenth time I'd given that speech and I was almost starting to believe it meself.

Pamela frowned and I felt my heart break. I'd disappointed her, and that made me feel like dirt. "That's too bad." She sighed, 'n' I had a hard time not watchin' her breasts swell. "I hope it's nothing too serious. I liked her."

"No doubt she'll be back tomorrow." I said, but she had dismissed me, already turning to the gorilla that was still holding the door for 'er.

"You may go now, Sean. I'm certain that I'll be quite fine in Mister Constantine's capable hands." The gorilla grunted and gave me a final long scowl before nodding and backing out of the doorway. He seemed almost submissive to the girl, and I figured she had a few like-minded young blokes wrapped about her little fingers roaming through the school. She flashed me another wide smile 'n' sashayed past, shakin' 'er ass. I watched from the door, takin' in the view until she settled into 'er desk. She crossed 'er long legs and dangled a loafer from 'er toes. She watched me with a smile that melted me 'eart. Seventeen…

I shut the door then grabbed another Silk Cut from the desk before 'eadin' to the black board. I heard the whispers 'n' sniggers as soon as me back was turned, but I paid it no mind. I was on the receiving end, 'n' I remembered what a class could do to a sub. Me hands were actually shakin' as I tried to light me fag. I wrote my name in big, scratchy letters on the board- 'cos I'd always wanted to do that- and turned to face the class again. They were all smiles and purity so I figured they were up to something. I just didn't know what quite yet.

That first class was homeroom according to Wallace' notes. Take the role, read the announcements for the day 'n' so forth 'n' so on, etceteras. I knew the routine. I checked each student out when I called the names but only the three stood out like a gangrenous thumb. The two blokes were seated at the back, the bird right up in front of me desk. I tried not to watch her playin' with 'er 'air or swingin' 'er leg, but she had me flustered not by 'alf. Thing is I didn't know why.

I'm good for a tumble same as any bloke, 'n' I'll admit I spent my fair share a time in the legs, but I never felt so full of lust before, just on a bird's looks alone. People in my line of work tend to see beyond the flesh. It was almost like I was being enchanted, but that was impossible. Hell, I'm John Constantine. I've stared down the Three and lived to tell the tale. I offed the King a' the bloody Vampires! I enchant! I don't get enchanted…

It took me two more classes before I figured it out. At least partly. Maybe it took that long for whatever the girl had done to wear off, or perhaps I finally just started thinkin' straight. Whatever, I figured that the bird was wearing a Glamour.

I've known women- real women, 'n' there was no way that little girl was all she was made out to be. She'd used a spell of some sort to accentuate her more feminine attributes. She 'ad made 'erself better; better lookin', soundin' and smellin'. I dunno if it was all of that, or if there was more to it, but she definitely enchanted me as well. Bewitched me somehow. I'd been there before, 'n' I know what the signs are, and all that's involved. It's not that hard to do, but you have to know what you're doing. You have to have the slightest bit of knowledge of the arts, and frankly, she didn't seem smart enough, which made it all the worse.

They were all three working together then, which was the only thing that made any sense. The bird, 'n' the jock too most likely both wearin' Glamours to make 'em both beautiful 'n' popular. Fair enough, but what was the nerd's angle then? What was he gaining from their little trinity? He was still geeky 'n' normal as far as I could tell. More importantly, how did they do it, whatever they 'ad actually done? The spells were fairly simple, but it wasn't like they were common knowledge. True enough it was easy to go into a curiosity shop and buy a Love spell that might work to a point, or a little curse like Itch or Stutter. But a Glamour, one that worked as well as the bird's? That was a whole 'nother ball a' wax.

I muddled me way through the morning classes waiting for the girl's spell to fade and rolling the questions through me 'ead. I even did a bit a' teachin' while I was at it. I followed Wallace's lesson plans more or less, but threw in me own spin on things. They were studying World War Two- the Big One- but were basically following the text from a book that was almost older'n me. I gave the young ones a lesson on the darker side of the war. I talked about Hitler and the Occult, and a little thing called the Spear of Destiny and the Society of Super Blokes- or whatever they called themselves back then. I gave them a little horror story about a Yank named Corrigan and a spook show called the Spectre. I told 'em what really happened at Normandy! I'm quite sure it was a lesson that they won't soon forget. Like I mentioned, I have a way with words…

I figured that the Lunch Hour was probably me best time to take another tour of the school so when the bell rang I grabbed me coat 'n' headed out into the halls. Wallace 'ad been right about the furnaces in the school. It was a chilly, drafty icebox in the corridors and I was glad that me trenchcoat 'ad dried somewhat. It still stank and 'ad developed a few more wrinkles, but I'd never been a toff fashion plate so I didn't really care all that much. Added to the image, y'know?

The hallways were crowded with students and teachers both, all of 'em rushin' about to get to wherever they were going. I waded into the stream at the first opportunity, going with the flow- and speaking of which veered into the first loo that presented itself. Even a magician needs to drain the weasel once in awhile.

I saddled up into the one open urinal 'n' presented meself for inspection to the Goddess of Porcelain. There was a rank smell in the room, and a cloud of smoke roilin' up 'n' outta one a' the stalls. Most of me neighbors didn't stay too long, so as soon as I had a bit a privacy I let loose 'n' sparked another fag to blanket the smells. I sighed. Nothin' better'n a good piss 'n' a fag sometimes-

"Oh Mister Constantine…"

I coughed. I'd 'eard the 'oly Chorus suddenly 'n' turned about without thinking. I drenched the trousers of Sean the gorilla before we knew what was happening, and I saw his mammoth twin flanking me on 'is left. They were like black and white bookends though the spook 'ad 'is head shaved a wee bit too close. I could see the cuts in 'is scalp- like diagrams they were- like pictures.

Angel Pam was leaning up against the door, 'er arms folded under her tits and 'er legs crossed at the ankles all casual like. I had me a feelin' she'd been in the little boy's room more'n once. She giggled to see me wettin' down 'er main stud- a sound like crystal shattering- 'n' that jus' pissed off the gorilla brothers even more. I could feel 'er spell drifting over the three of us like a fog. I licked me lips, me mind getting' muddled 'n' figured I better concentrate on something other than 'er.

I glanced down at the mess I'd made 'n' took a drag off me fag. I smirked, looking up square at Sean-

"Afternoon, squire. I'd wash that out if I was you, before it sets-"

I doubled over Sean's fist as he drove it into me stomach. I gagged, spewin' smoke like a chimney and felt me morning tea risin' up me throat like bile. I tossed on Sean's trousers and shoes, and 'e bellowed while 'is boy slammed 'is forearm down on the back a' me neck. Needless to say I crumpled, slamming into the sticky tiles of the washroom floor like a sack a' shit. Pamela's two thugs gave me a quick beat down then for a bit, kicking me back 'n' forth between 'em like a football. I'd 'ad worse, but it all 'urts jus' the same.

After a bit I heard the clack of heels on the floor and the bullyboys rolled me over so I could see sweet Pam. They 'eld me down while she kicked me legs apart then squatted right down between 'em. Me prick was still 'angin' out me fly- 'course it 'ad shriveled up to near nothin'- 'n' I felt 'er fingers givin' me a tug. Her touch was icy cold, but as she gave me a quick scratch I still felt me little mate getting' stiff. She cupped me balls in the palm of 'er 'and-

"Nice!" she cooed with a smirk. "If you didn't smell like piss we might have a go."

"S-sorry, luv. I set me sights a little higher than the high school whore-" I whined when she gave me a squeeze 'n' tried to get away but her boys 'eld me down fast. Pamela 'tsk-ed' 'n' shook her 'ead-

"You ought'a be nicer to me, Mister Constantine, considering what I have in my hand." She gave me another hard squeeze then let me go and stood up. I sighed, gasping for breath as I felt the sole of 'er shoe rubbing over me prick 'n' balls.

"You don't belong here, Mister Constantine. I don't know why you've come, but you've made a right mess of things. We needed Miss Wallace tonight, and though you might be as good a teacher, there's some things that you just can't do. Somehow I don't think that you're a virgin, hmm?" She pressed down with jus' a bit of 'er weight 'n' I'm not so proud as to say that I didn't squeal like a bitch. Nothin' hurts a bloke worse'n havin' their bollocks in the vise. Pam laughed-

"Go home, Mister Constantine! Go back to Bedford Square or Mayfair, wherever you come from and leave us alone. You're not wanted here." She reared back and slammed the toe of her shoe square into me balls! I screamed long and loud, 'n' Sean had to clamp 'is meaty paw over me mouth to cut the noise I was making. They let me squirm for a bit, then let me loose. I curled up like a baby in the womb-

"Get out Constantine," Pam spat, backing towards the door, "get back home or next time I won't be half as gentle." She giggled then and gathered 'er crew 'n' left me alone. I waited with me hands down between me legs until the door swung shut then let out the breath I'd been holding through gritted teeth. I jus' laid there for a bit, moaning in a puddle of me own piss, waiting for the pain to subside.

After awhile I tried to stand and felt the pain in me ribs right off. I touched 'n' probed and it hurt but I didn't think the bullyboys 'ad broken anything. I'd stop by the clinic later at any rate, if all went well.

I leaned up against a sink 'n' stared at me reflection for a bit in the cracked glass of the mirror, trying to find me legs. I hurt, but I'd hurt before. I stank, but I washed up a bit 'n' lit another fag and didn't smell a thing before long. What I really was, was right pissed! The cheeky little bitch 'ad taken me like a novice- twice- 'n' I was getting' right tired a' that. It was time to get down 'n' dirty…

I made me way down to the Science Lab again 'n' sure enough I found Nerd Boy there with his Geek Squad. They were all on the computers inside, 'n' I watched through the window in the door for a bit, trying to see what they were about. I don't know squat about computers, but even I could see that they were all doing the same thing. There was five of 'em, 'n' each was running the same thing on their monitors. They were linked up somehow, playing some game a' some sort. It looked like somethin' medieval- their characters on screen were running through the halls of some stone dungeon dressed up in armor 'n' such. Dungeons and Dragons I imagined, and then it hit me-

I'd played the game a time or two in me youth but never really got into it like some of me schoolmates. Too much arithmetic for me at the time I thought. Too much sitting around waiting for your next turn. I recall that it was fairly detailed though, right down to the description of the monsters 'n' demons that you fought, and the armor 'n' weapons 'n' such. And if you were a Magic User- the spells. The spells in the game were a crock for the most part, but there were a few I learned later on that hit way too close to the mark. Anyone with a bit of brains could reword some of the better ones and stumble on something potent by accident. Whoever 'ad first put the game to paper 'ad 'ad the slightest inkling of what 'e was doing. Wish I'd known back then. It would've saved me a bit of hassle.

I needed a closer look at what the Geek Squad was doing though. I knew however that once the hour was over that they'd log off and whatever they 'ad running would be lost to me. I needed them outta the way for a few minutes, and as I thought about it, inspiration 'it me again.

I smashed the fire alarm box with me elbow, then ducked into the shadows as pandemonium broke loose in the halls. I waited, watching as the student body and professors all made a mad dash for the doors- the nerds included. It took a few minutes for the last of 'em to vacate, which left me jus' a few more minutes before the firemen showed up with their hoses 'n' axes. I slipped into the Science Lab quick as I could.

As expected the little brain boys 'ad pissed themselves and ran like girls. They'd left their computers running full blast, so I settled into one of the chairs and started surfing. Like I said, I know squat about computers, but even an idiot can figure it out with a bit of trial and error. The game they were playing was some custom job, but one of the boys'd had a list of Links up on a side bar. One of those blatantly said Spells, so I maneuvered the pointer over that one 'n' clicked-

Me eyes must've bulged when I saw the list of spells that popped up. Like I figured, there was the old D&D spell book, but it had been modified jus' a little bit. I saw spells for the Glamour, and a few Curses. There was a Lightning Bolt spell, and a Knock that would open any door I figured. There was some shit that I'd never heard of as well, but it looked like it could all work. There'd be repercussions though as some of the spells called for a tribute- a sacrifice! I didn't have a clue as to what to do, 'n' I wished that me old chum Ritchie was still alive. He could have figured this in a heartbeat. Me, my technological level ends at the Mister Coffee in me flat. I don't know a magical paradigm from a hypertext mark up. Still, I do know that when the stove isn't working right you turn off the gas. When the computer isn't working right you save your work and shut down. 'Course if you don't save your work…

I stood and thought about it for jus' a second. It wasn't hard. I picked up the monitor then and raised it over head. I smashed it down onto the next monitor to the right! There was an explosion, and a fire erupted in the Science Lab and I thought what a good thing it was that I'd pushed the fire alarm before. There was a flash of light as all the monitors in the room flared, and sparks started flying everywhere as the computers started to fry. As expected the overhead sprinklers kicked in adding injury to insult and washed down the entire room. I watched as one by one the computers flickered and went dead, their screens turning black as their towers shorted out in the shower. I hoped that everything had been stored in house and wasn't out on the Internet somewhere, but there was no way to check it now. Within seconds the fires were raging and I finally ran, sure that I'd done the job. Wouldn't do to get fried meself in the electrical fire that followed.

I headed outside finally as London's Bravest came smashing in through the front doors. They were yelling and charging like a squad a' soldiers, hoses gripped tightly in hand as they ran down the hallway. They yelled at me to get the hell out, and I did. I respect authority, don't you know…

I saw that the rain had stalled when I stepped outside, but the sky was still 'eavy with thick, dark clouds. Most of the student body and faculty was standing in the street watching while the fire department scurried about their job. I stood on the steps and lit another fag as I looked out over the crowd, trying to find me star pupils.

As expected they were all huddled together under the overhang across the lane. They were all there; Pam and 'er thugs, Bradley and 'is chippie, and the Nerd Squad. They saw me 'course, but I wondered if they knew what was 'appening yet. I strolled down the steps and 'eaded their way. No time like the present to find out…

Pam's bullyboys stepped right up as soon as I got close. I could feel 'er trying to catch 'old of me again, but as much as I like it rough on occasion, I think she kind of turned me off to whatever she 'ad to offer-

"Hullo, lads. How're they hangin'?"

The pouf boys were steaming, itching to give me another pounding, but I 'ad no fear a' them. I knew their little secret now, and I knew 'ow to deal with it. They were all computer geeks; every last one of 'em. Bradley and Pamela included. They'd stumbled on the spells during one of their games, maybe downloading everything off the Web, maybe copying the words out of the game books and rewriting them a bit. I figured it was all accidental like 'owever it 'appened, but they were smart enough to know what they'd done. Smart enough to capitalize on what they'd found.

I figured that Nerd Boy had probably put it all together. He'd deciphered the spells, then used them on 'is gaming chums one by one. The bookends got their muscles- poor little poufs getting pounded by the bullies every day. Bradley got the looks and charisma and became Big Man on Campus. Simple Enhancement spells there. Dear sweet Pam got that as well, plus a bit more. With the boob job came a little persuasion, some pheromone manipulation no doubt. Worked on me, I'll give it that. Near as I could tell, they needed a bit of blood for the spells to kick start the changes. Probably why the nig had the sigils carved into 'is 'ead. They probably all 'ah marks somewhere on their bodies. 'Course to make it last they'd eventually need a real sacrifice- maybe a virgin. By what Pamela told me in the loo, that was supposed to be Miss Wallace. With any luck I'd put a stop to that. I'd find out soon enough…

"Bastard!" Sean shouted as he took a swing at me. I stepped back out of reach, but the Bully Boys pressed on. They were sagging though, slowin' down. I could see their muscles starting to deflate. Before too long they'd be a pair of geeky kids again. Bradley too. His hair was a mess, and I could see pimples popping out on 'is skin even as I dodged Sean's best Sunday punches. I 'eard more sirens, and there was an explosion somewhere behind me. St. Mary's was goin' down, and so was the Geek Squad!

I'm not one to resort to physical violence, but I made the exception with them. I slapped Sean across the face, then back-handed 'is mate in the same swing. They stood there stunned-like, so I pulled a Moe and went back the other way, slaps all around. By then they were both lookin' skinny 'n' frail, so I leaned in close 'n' gave 'em both me best glare-

"Piss off you lot!" I snarled, and Sean turned tail 'n' ran, 'is butt boy 'ot on 'is 'eels. They were bullies through 'n' through. I gave the lesser members of the Squad the same option. They were through more or less, but it was the big three that I wanted. The punks scattered with a stare and a smile, and Bradley and Nerd Boy tried to run as well. I grabbed Bradley's arm-

"What's your hurry, luv? I thought you wanted to help?" The boy squirmed but I pulled him back, jerked him around. He looked like 'e wanted to take a swing, but I stared 'im down. I gave 'im the look and 'e crumbled. I saw Nerd Boy disappear around the corner with the fear a' god up 'is ass. I turned back to Mister Soames-

"Run!" I said, blowing smoke in 'is face. "Run as far and as fast as you can…" Then I let 'im loose.

He ran…

He'd lose whatever edge the spells had given 'im soon enough. Before too long 'e'd be jus' another face in the crowd, dreaming better dreams and wishing 'e was more than 'e was. That left Pam. Dear sweet Pamela Dawson-

She wasn't looking too good. Her hair had lost its luster. Her breasts had sagged and shrunk a bit and her legs weren't nearly so appealing anymore. She was squinting, digging through her purse for 'er glasses I assumed. There was no lust left. Outside the appeal of the school uniform there was nothing at all. She was a nerd too, skinny 'n' flat as a board, with long stringy hair. She positioned 'er thick glasses on 'er nose and backed away as soon as she focused on me. She was done…

"Please…" she whimpered, backing up against the wall. She'd put me through a little slice of hell, but as far as I knew there'd been no deaths, no real blood loss. Much as I wanted to slap the shit outta 'er, I didn't. No law against thinking bad thoughts, 'n' if wishing malice against a teacher was a sin, most of the kids in school would already be in hell. There was no reason save me own satisfaction. They were a bunch of kids that'd gotten in over their 'eads. I'd been there once. Been there- done that…

Live and learn…

I snatched her by the wrist though and leaned in close, rolling me cigarette to the corner of me mouth-

"Get back home, Loretta…"

She got the gist, and the joke. She ran like a two pound hooker in a raid. I could've taken back me pound of flesh, but she was jus' a kid really. She wasn't even worth it. Whatever spark she'd 'ad was long gone, vanished with 'er 'air and 'er tits. Dust in the wind. And that was that…

St. Mary's would be a total loss. Despite the fire fighter's best efforts, the Chapel would finally take the building down, back into the dirt. It would work out in the long run, really. Most of the students would be distributed about the district and for most it'd be an upgrade. The greater lot would be sent to schools in the City and across the river in Southwark. They'd be out of White Chapel and the East End, at least for awhile. All's well that ends well I suppose…

"Please…"

I turned. I'd thought they'd all left. I saw Bradley's chippie cowering in the corner, crouching in the garbage of the construction site overhang-

"Please don't hurt me. I- I don't…"

"It's all right luv. It's all over." I reached out calm like, hoping she'd take me 'and. She was petrified.

"They- they wanted me to join them. Brad- he- he wanted to…"

"He's gone. He won't be back." I took 'er 'and and pulled 'er to 'er feet. She was scared, trembling, and after a moment she fell into me arms, crying 'er eyes out. I 'eld 'er. It's all I could do.

"Shhh. It's all right, luv. It's over." I gave 'er a squeeze, trying to force out the nasty thoughts. She was young, jus' a child. Probably the next one on the sacrifice list after Wallace. Death 'ad skipped 'er over. "Stop cryin' now. Tell us your name-"

"it's April. April May…" I stared at 'er…

"You're joshin'."

She smiled, sniffing back the tears. "No. Really…"

"That's a silly name, luv. Your parents played a nasty joke on you."

She laughed at that, and I knew that she was going to be all right. I heard the building collapse in on itself but I paid it no mind. The fire roared and the firemen were all shouting to get back and get away. It was over though. All over…

Nothing left but the mopping up…

Story of me life…

THE END

Story © 2004 Curt Fernlund and may not be reproduced without permission.