Year of Lost Souls

By Hanna Mantle

After a battle leaves two creatures in search of another, the peace at Middleton School for Girls was about to be disturbed like never before.

Middleton School for Girls seemed just as ordinary as any other private school, but as is usual with tales of mystery and confusion, things were not what they seemed and with the arrival of Mr. Whitchurch, life as the students knew it was altered forever.

Avyanna, a special young lady must discover the truth about not only Mr. Whitchurch, but also herself in order to save everyone from the approaching evil. Decisions need to be made and lives need to be saved, and Avyanna will discover if her new friends are really friends at all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781326104443

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Year of Lost Souls

Year of Lost Souls

Copyright

Copyright © 2014 by Hanna Mantle

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2014

ISBN 978-1-326-10444-3

Prologue

The battle had been over for nearly a century, but there was still a deep anger on both sides. The Cursed, a faction of the most squalid and loathsome creatures ever created had always wanted to destroy their sworn enemy; the Blessed, an assembly of ethereal and munificent beings who wanted nothing but peace and to seek a resolution to the seemingly never-ending struggle between their two parties.

There had been rumours of a growing threat for months before the battle began, and as no one knew where the rumours were coming from, each faction had increased their defensive lines in preparation for the apparently imminent attack. With the doubling offensive, the rumours spread further until someone broke rank and the blood-bath began. The Blessed, unaccustomed with fighting over peaceful negotiations stood strong and fought bravely, whilst the Cursed and their hatred inspired them to wreak havoc with each step they took. The devastating effects of war were not lost on either party and even as both sides cowered at the obliteration of their homes and families, neither could give a reason why the battle had even started or who had started it, but the attempted annihilation of each other had left each side blaming the other. After the battle, the Cursed retreated to save numbers and the Blessed had tried to heal as many of their wounded as they could, losing more than they could ever have envisaged.

The Ancients of both civilisations, the Blessed’s most exalted and benevolent creators and the Cursed’s most depraved and monstrous captains, were spread across the various worlds in the cosmos to protect them from harm and possible capture, allowing each side the opportunity to re-build their empires and cultures once the dust and debris of their gargantuan battle had cleared. Most of the Ancients for both sides had been retrieved and had been incorporated into the civilisations created by the fold of whoever had found them. So far, the Cursed had found only two of their own Ancients but had converted three of the Blessed, corrupting them into truly repugnant beasts. The Blessed had found four of their own Ancients and had saved three of the Cursed who were duly welcomed into their ardent collective.

There was only one other Ancient that either side was aware of that had survived and had found her way to Earth. In order to try and get the upper hand, the Cursed released their most notorious and malicious warrior, Azil the Bounty Hunter, to retrieve her and bring her into the fold of the Cursed to give them equal footing should another battle be waged. The Blessed had also had this idea but wanted a clear advantage over the Cursed to prevent any further blood-shed and sent the wise and beautiful Seraphim to find the lost Ancient.

After visiting countless other galaxies and planets, the Seraphim found herself on Earth after following the trail of folklore and legends, until she believed that she had finally found the Ancient hiding in an old school house, so she placed herself as close as possible to observe but not reveal herself in case her findings were incorrect. She had however not been as covert as she had first thought, as an Elemental, or fire demon, working for the Cursed, had spied her and revealed her position to Azil. With this new knowledge presenting a welcomed advantage, the Cursed instantly re-deployed Azil to the countryside to find out what or who the Seraphim had found.

Azil discovered the old school house that the Seraphim was observing and immediately felt the magical presence of the supernatural dweller within. They had definitely found the Ancient but couldn’t just barge in and take her. She needed to be convinced of which side she wanted to be on. Azil had to be smart, so he waited, taking the lives of lost children and homeless people for sustenance, no one that would raise any suspicions. The Seraphim required nothing to survive but feeling the presence of the Cursed with each shiver down her spine after radiating pulses of evil washed over her, she decided to conserve her strength as much as possible by avoiding her normal, scorching, soul-destroying form.

Both the Seraphim and Azil had observed that the school house was in the process of being refurbished and was appeared to be under the command of a new head teacher. When the Seraphim and Azil first witnessed this being, they could see through the human facade instantly and instead saw the brilliance of the Ancient blazing through – and yet, she didn’t seem to remember who she really was, or what she truly was. They had to integrate themselves into the school somehow; they needed to get close enough to her to gently influence her decision.

The new school year was fast approaching and the Seraphim had managed to enrol herself into the school as a student to try and get close enough to the Ancient to convince her to come to the Blessed. Azil had yet to find a way in and was quickly running out of time.

The school building itself was nothing special, a grand building yes, but there was nothing magically significant about it. There were no ancient burial sites or anything directly alarming, but the surrounding areas of woodland and natural landscapes were a different story all together.

The Seraphim felt a strangely mystical pull towards the school and the grounds, like it was some kind of supernatural hub for all things even slightly magical or magically minded. Azil felt this pull too, yet the thing he noticed initially was not the power of the Ancient, but rather the collection of Cursed creatures that had taken refuge here, seemingly unnoticed and undisturbed. The closer he got to the school, the more electric the air seemed to become and the more exquisite stirrings he felt from these hidden creatures as they, in turn, felt his terror-inspiring and truly reprehensible presence. He had to get into that school somehow, to not only find the Ancient, but to also discover why there was such a mystical resonance emitting from this place. For now though, both Azil and the Seraphim could only wait for an opportunity to present itself.

Chapter One

Middleton School for Girls was the best in the country. In every good school there were good teachers and a good Head teacher. In Middleton School for Girls there were great teachers and an even more impressive Headmistress: Mrs Elizabeth Dowly.

Mrs. Dowly was new to Middleton the previous year but was exactly what the school had needed. She’d put refurbishments in place to improve the school and had decided to run the all girls school with an all female staff so there were no male teachers on site. Any male guests or visitors were to sign in and be accompanied through a student free environment, to a secluded office, away from the girls. She felt it was a better environment for girls to be in, without the stresses of the male influence. Except of course Mr. Grady, the School Caretaker and general handy man, who, at a measly five-foot four inches with mousy hair and the beady eyes of a woodland creature, was not the most attractive of men anyway, so was therefore not a problem.

Middleton School for Girls was situated in the country, away from the hustle and bustle of city life and featured some of the more rustic and appropriate settings for a young girl to learn how to become a lady. The school building itself was rather like an old manor house, large and set-in to its surroundings, but now it was refurbished with a new look to be admired and acknowledged. Mrs. Dowly had worked with builders and decorators for months to make the old school house ready for the arrival of two hundred girls from all over the country, in the hope that the alumni success of the previous year would continue into the new one.

***

It was the first of September, the leaves on the trees were turning golden brown and fiery red, and in the gradually dimming light of the afternoon, five coaches entered the school grounds through the wrought iron gates in single file, lining up outside the large oak doors of Middleton School for Girls. Mrs. Dowly, Mr Grady and a selection of the teachers of Middleton were stood with clip-boards and registers awaiting the girls’ arrival.

As the first group of girls huddled together to await further instructions, they began to take in the people stood before them. They looked up at the intimidating six foot five inches of Mrs. Ibsen, the Languages teacher, who was clearly not trying to look welcoming at all, swaddled in a dark green shirt-dress and cardigan combination. She had jet-black hair and thick rimmed glasses on her thin face. She was a tall, lean woman and her skeletal legs were wrapped in thick tights all the way down to her shoes. The girls had already concluded that they were not going to enjoy learning any language from her. As the girls filed in through the doors, Mrs. Ibsen sent them through the double doors of the foyer, a little way down the corridor to Mrs. Rentshaw, the Algebra teacher. One of the girls noted to the group nearest to her that Mrs. Rentshaw was a much smaller lady than Mrs. Ibsen, but it seemed like everyone was. She stood at a dainty five foot two inches, with mousy brown hair, wearing a figure-hugging dress and kitten-heel shoes. They girls thought she looked quite sweet actually, but not at all like a teacher, and certainly not like Mrs. Ibsen. And although Mrs. Rentshaw didn’t wear a lot of make-up, just some mascara and a little lip-balm, they girls all thought she was an attractive enough woman nonetheless, 

…quite cute actually, like a baby animal! smirked one of the girls.

Mrs. Rentshaw was lucky that the space the girls were walking through next to her wasn’t particularly wide which made it a lot easier for her to hand the girls their notebooks, however time-consuming but it gave the girls time to form an opinion of every person they had encountered so far.

Walking down the corridor, past the five classrooms each side, the girls still laden with their belongings and deep in gossip, came to a large, arched doorway. Upon pushing the heavy, ‘Great Doors’ open with severe difficulty, the girls stood in awe and total silence at their new surroundings. In front of them was a large wooden staircase that split off into two separate staircases at the top. The stairs were dark mahogany and each step had an individual piece of vermillion carpet on it. There were several doors at the base of the stairs; one of the doors led to the kitchens, another to the bathrooms and another to the dining hall. The last door lead to a long corridor with large windows down one side and ten large, wooden doors equally spaced out along the other; the ground floor bedrooms. There were two corridors like this, the ground floor and the first floor bedrooms. Each corridor housed ten bedrooms and each bedroom housed ten girls.

Mrs. Wrigley’s large, round face popped over the top of the balcony as she beckoned the girls upstairs. The girls followed her instructions and made their way up to find and receive their orders from Miss. Wrigley.

"I’ve heard stories about this... woman from some people in the village," one of the girls remarked, hushed enough to not be overheard by any teachers, but loud enough to reach as many of the new student body as possible.

Me too! replied another, apparently, she’s a total dude and an absolute ball-breaker!

Upon arrival on the first floor, Mrs. Wrigley’s features hit the girls full in the face. She was a stout woman, built up mainly of muscle more than anything else and she was wearing an odd combination of casual and sports wear. She held a blue riding crop under her right arm and kept her right hand firmly above her breast. She had badly dyed blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, rosy red cheeks, and a whistle around her thick neck.

Wow. I don’t even know what that is! sniggered some of the girls.

Mrs. Wrigley led the girls in the opposite direction from the first floor bedrooms along another corridor. This one however was shorter but had a row of windows on one side, similar to the bedroom corridors opposite. At the end of the corridor there was a double window that when she reached it, Mrs. Wrigley removed the riding crop from under her arm, used the ring of leather on the end to unhook the latch and threw open the window to let in an appreciated burst of fresh air.

As the girls pushed forward to get a glimpse of the grounds, the ones lucky enough to be at the front were taken aback by the beauty before them; bright colours greeted them in waves, the green of the trees and the grass disappearing into the distant, mist covered hills, the shimmering light dancing across the top of the lake, and the sun streaming in giant beams over it all as it highlighted the incredible features of their stately school buildings, extensive grounds, and peaceful environment. As if to ruin everything the girls had just saw and felt, Mrs. Wrigley interrupted their thoughts…

Out there, she bellowed as she pointed with her riding crop, is the sports area. In the middle there, you will see an outside swimming pool, this is for lesson times only and not for your personal leisure.

Mrs. Wrigley’s voice and mannerisms didn’t fit her body, it almost seemed as if she had been created by amalgamating various features of other women into this strange hybrid the girls saw before them.

"On the right-hand side of the main house you will find some stables. These will require cleaning every other day. Riding will be every Monday and Friday. Swimming will be every morning at 8am for the girls in the ground floor bedrooms and 9am for the girls in the first floor bedrooms. This arrangement will be alternated every two weeks. Hockey will be every Tuesday, football every Wednesday, netball every Thursday and tennis will be on Saturdays. On Sundays, you will tidy your rooms and finish your class work. Please make your way to the dining hall and be seated