Greetings folks and welcome to the inaugural entry into my latest endeavor… The Guide to Oakfield High. My name is Dustin Gardner, one of the most accomplished alumni of Oakfield High! One of my many achievements since crossing the street from elementary to high school includes that one time I smoked a joint with our janitor… not many people can say they’ve done that, right?
I guess that’s a good enough introduction, let’s really get down to the nitty gritty here. You see, for those unaware, Oakfield is a pretty small town (around a thousand people last time I googled it) and as such, you tend to notice the oddities, the traditions and relationships of folks who live around you. Obviously, whether it’s due to poor educational financing or just the general isolationist views, many of these small town Americans seem to hold their own traditions, things happen around these parts you won’t find anywhere else. It’s especially unhelpful when half of the faculty can be found watching Fox News at their desk rather than actually teaching the class, but I digress.
I’ve never been what you might call an ‘honor roll’ student (personally, with a little effort, anyone with a body temperature in the 90s can achieve this), but it doesn’t take a genius to see that Oakfield is especially odd, exceptionally different and certainly eccentric.
I’ve encountered things, things beyond this realm. I know I’m not the only one who notices the goblins and ghouls who stalk us from just beyond the shadows, just out of reach. You see, a couple friends of mine decided to catalogue our encounters during one of our usual lunchtime meetings. Since I started going to Oakfield High, three years ago now, I’ve sat at the same table with the same two people who I’m sure you will become well acquainted with in the days to come.
Jack, my longest tenured friend and oft-speculated boyfriend even though we’ve given no reason to believe as such. Jack and I met in the sixth grade, being hellbent on driving our poor English teacher mad had intertwined our paths and the rest is history. Perhaps the most book smart person I’ve ever met, though his common sense could definitely use some works.
Then there is Alice, the other outcast in our little rat pack. I’ve never seen her without a smile on her face, always making ridiculous (borderline incomprehensible) jokes at the expense of whatever creatures might be ravaging her poor brain. She certainly is an enigma, even after years of near-daily interaction.
There, now that we’re all well acquainted, the time feels right to let you all in on today’s first lesson: Don’t trust the lunch ladies.
It was sometime during my sophomore year, the bell had rung and everyone gathered hesitantly for lunch. I say hesitantly because the occurrences of food poisoning seemed a little too high to just be coincidental. Things were going about as usual, Jack and Alice discussing the intricacies of League of Legends as I snapped pictures of random people with goofy filters.
Trust me, I’ve matured a bunch since then.
As we shoveled down the mashed potatoes and gravy, which almost seem to pulsate if you watch too closely, I peered behind Alice who was sitting on the opposite side of the table. At the top of the staircase at the end of the cafeteria, I noticed a dark haired boy watching over everyone sitting and talking at their respective tables. I felt a pang of guilt, thinking this kid had nowhere to sit.
“I’ll be right back”, I blurted, before jumping up from the table and quickly making my way to the staircase.
“Try not to get lost”, Alice replied, snickering to herself. I rolled my eyes as I navigated the busy floor, even though we only had 300-some students, the cafeteria was still packed tight like a can of sardines. I’m sure you can imagine the smells that wafted through the air, heavy fumes of Axe spray and shitty school lunch was heavy in the atmosphere.
“No vaping in the bathroom, Mr. Gardner”, my Principal, Mr. Shenault said as I squirmed by, trying to avoid eye contact. God, his eyes always seemed to bulge, almost inhumanly, as he studied me. Thick, red webs of veins jutted out from the corner of his sunken eyes. Yuck.
“Of course”, I replied as nonchalantly as possible, moving as quickly as I could. It seems even when I’m doing good, I still look like a suspicious person. Ugh.
As I closed in on the staircase I could hear my principal call out to me once more, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you”, he said, looking at me and then the boy who sat atop the staircase. I furrowed my brow, choosing to ignore his ‘advice’. Unfortunately, that was one of the few times the faculty wasn’t spewing complete bullshit. In hindsight, I’m sure they’re aware of how creepy this place is, too.
The boy didn’t pay me any mind, even as I scaled the steps, closing the distance between us.
“Hey, I’m Dustin, I saw you were si-“, he cut me off.
“I know who you are”, his voice was strikingly deep, which caught me off guard considering he couldn’t have weighed any more than a hundred pounds. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the deep-black curls back into a stringy, greasy heap on his head. That’s when I noticed his eyes were two different colors, one a pale blue and the other as green as an emerald.
“You’re Dustin Gardner, I’ve heard plenty about you”, he continued, smiling weakly. He reached his gaunt hand out to shake mine, his crusty fingernails were long and jagged. I couldn’t help but recoil a bit before extending my hand.
“How did you know?”, I said, plopping down next to him. He looked back out into the sea of people, the cacophony of screaming and meme-speak filled the acrid air. For some odd reason, it felt as though I was in a different dimension whenever I was around him.
“I’ve been here longer than most people think”, he said, resting his head into the pit between his knees. I pondered his words for a while, unsure of what to say next.
“My names Krist, by the way, it’s good to meet you”, he spoke, finally breaking the silence between us. After this point, I should’ve gotten up and walked away, I should’ve ignored him. Instead, as naive as I am, I invited him to sit with us at lunch tomorrow.
For the rest of the that week, Krist would sit beside me during lunch. He never really had a whole lot to say, mostly just one word answers and random spiels of wisdom you might here from your grandparents whenever they’re feeling nostalgic. Yet, Jack and Alice seemed thoroughly enamored with his presence. They were incessant with their questions, poking and prodding for every detail they could get out of him. They’d laugh at everything he said, giggling like idiots even when it wasn’t remotely funny.
Truthfully, I became a little jealous of Krist. I had always been known as the joker, as the class clown amongst my fellow alumni at Oakfield. Then this guy comes in and suddenly my friends are head over heels for him? I don’t think so.
My apprehension to the entire situation became palpable over the coming days. Any chance I got to dump on Krist or make myself look better was taken, I know that wasn’t the right thing to do looking back but I was just a dumb kid. Just like anybody else. Besides, I had no clue who or what exactly I was truly dealing with.
It was Friday when shit eventually hit the fan.
The day was going on like any other had before it, nothing particularly interesting or noteworthy. The teachers droned on as students bobbled and bounced in their seats, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the final bell. The lunch bell rang and students rushed to the cafeteria in droves, similar to packs of hyenas categorized by whatever clique they fell into. You have the popular hyenas, the wish-they-were hyenas, the music hyenas, the goth hyenas, the… whatever you get the point. The four of us gathered at our usual spot, Jack and Alice once again snickering and questioning Krist about what brand of toilet paper he’d wiped his ass with the previous night (not literally). As they left to go gather their lunches, myself just a step behind them, Krist clamped his hand around my wrist.
This frail looking kid should not have possessed such otherwordly grip strength, his fingers digging into my skin as it felt my arm was ready to snap.
“Jesus dude, what th-“, I began, before he raised his index finger to his lips. As condescending as it seemed, I couldn’t help but keep my mouth shut. Truly, I was a little afraid he’d snap my arm in half if I didn’t shut up.
“When you go to get your lunch, ask for the Friday Special”, he demanded, his grip instantly easing on my wrist. His eyes, his mismatched eyes seemed to penetrate deep into my being. I was certain he already knew what my answer was as he returned his gaze, watching the other students convene at the other tables.
I stumbled backward just as he fully released his grip, nearly toppling backward onto my ass. I swear I could see that bastard smirk under the curtain of greasy hair distorting his face.
Whatever, it had to be some stupid joke, right? Since he was just so funny and all.
I grumbled incoherently as I stomped my way to the back of the line. Mr. Shenault eyeballed me as I went, shaking his head.
The Friday Special… what the hell does that even mean, I thought to myself as I tapped my foot in frustration, waiting impatiently for the line to move faster. I watched as the lunch ladies piled mounds of slop on the passing students plates, remaining utterly dull and expressionless as they did so. Until, as the line had finally dwindled down and I found myself nearing the front, they all seemed to stare at me in unison, vacant of any emotion as they watched me inch closer.
Finally, I was face to face with the first one, the lunch lady in charge of handing out the watery spoonfuls of ravioli. Her eyes remained utterly vacant, as though no one was operating what lay behind them. The other two operating the trough line stood close behind her now, all dawning the same disconcerting expression. Their wrinkly lips were drawn so tight against their teeth that I could see cracks beginning to form within them.
I had no clue what the Friday Special was and I damn sure didn’t wanna hang around to find out, but before I could turn tail and run away one of them spoke to me.
“Follow me”, she said, her voice was dry and ashen, as though she hadn’t taken a sip of water since the Berlin Wall had come crashing down. Whether it was by choice, or if some sort of outside influence was urging me on, my legs pushed forward as I met them behind the lunch line. They ushered me through a door which laid just beyond where other students could see us from.
This is where things take an… interesting turn.
The room they took me was dark, almost pitch black, although I could see the shiny reflections of various kitchen utensils lining the walls. The air felt thick and humid against my skin, it seemed as though beads of sweat had begun pouring from my forehead almost instantly.
All was silent.
“Uhm, what’s going on?”, I asked, unable to muster any other words. Despite the overwhelming heat, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver run it’s course through my spine. The room remained utterly silent.
I looked around me, sticking my hand into the darkness, hoping they hadn’t left me here alone. After a moment of poking and prodding my way around the entrance, I was certain they had left me here in the dark as some sort of evil prank. I could feel the vein in the side of my head begin to ache.
That’s son of a bitch.
After groping around aimlessly, I found the door knob and began pulling on it like an angry child. Yanking it, pushing and twisting the handle like some sort of madman, hellbent on getting out of their.
“LET ME OUT, NOW”, I screamed in anger, though I couldn’t help the lizard part of brain telling me something was wrong, horribly wrong. I was afraid, not just that but mortally terrified. I placed my foot on the wall and tried with every ounce of might to yank it open and when that didn’t work I simply beat on the door, trying to create as much noise as possible.
“LET ME THE FUCK OUT”, I shrieked before finally collapsing altogether. My heart beat with untethered fury inside my chest, that coupled with the unbearable heat had begun to make my head feel woozy. If I could’ve seen anything, I’m certain my vision would’ve been blurring at this point.
“Turn around”, the voice whispered into my ear.
I froze.
A feeling of sickness began to wash over me, my mind screaming at me to run, to get away. Yet I knew, that no matter how hard I tried, that the door would remain locked.
With no other choice, I did as the voice told me, hesitantly turning to where it had originated from. An angry red light shone against the wall opposite of me, illuminating a desk which held a giant, metal pot. Streams of smoke billowed from whatever was inside of it. The skinniest lunch lady, Miss Hunter, stood behind the desk.
Her eyes burrowed deep into me, studying me as though she were a mantis and I was the cricket.
“Come closer”, she said, though it appeared her lips hadn’t moved at all. I remained cowered against the door, my legs having turned to gelatin long, long ago. However, something seemed to push me with a tremendous force from behind, planting me firmly into the ground. I struggled to pull myself upward, the breath had escaped my lungs. When I finally got back up, I was directly in front of the desk, only this time Miss Hunter wasn’t alone.
Krist stood directly in front of her, wearing the most hideous, sinister smile. I could no longer feel the rough beating of my heart against my ribs, no, at this point I felt like I was watching a movie. I felt like a floating brain in a different universe.
I peered down into the pot which was filled with some sort of orangey-viscous liquid which bubbled and frothed to the very top.
“Just one last ingredient”, she said, her expression remaining completely dull. With that, she removed a large knife from under the desk, her knobby knuckles and veins popping out as she took a firm grip of the handle.
To this day, I’m still not sure if what I saw next was a fever dream from the culmination of the sleepless nights I’d had since. She drew the knife to Krists neck, and I swear he winked at me just before she tugged the blade along his throat, shredding through the skin in the process. A surge of blood escaped his throat in great spurts before slowing to a trickle, dancing like rain in the pot which sat below.
It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me again.
“Shhh”, another voice whispered into my ear. With that, I had finally come back to my senses, running for the door like I was trying to qualify for the Olympics next 100 meter dash. Luckily this time, the handle turned and the door slid open, allowing me back into the real world. I fell on the floor behind the lunch line in a sweaty, shaking heap, the lunch ladies all standing around me with a concerned look on their faces.
“Are you alright, hun?”, I darted for the cafeteria even quicker, returning to our table in a huff.
As I sat across from my friends, trying my best to piece together a story that didn’t make me sound like a complete lunatic, I couldn’t help but return my gaze to that stairwell.
Krist stared at me, smiling.