The Channel of Monsters

By Rosemary Chesney

Devin Shield always thought he was just a normal kid, but why did his eyes turn red when he became angry? Why did trouble seem to follow him wherever he went? Devins normal life is over the day that he disintegrates a raging bull and sets the school on fire with his bare hands. After being abducted, he discovers that, unlike most humans, he was born with a special power. Follow Devin as he is shipped off to a school for children with the gift and finds out that even among people like him, he is still very different. Worse even, there is a terrible plot arising at the school. Will Devin be able to uncover the mystery, or will he be too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984515292

Rosemary Chesney

Rosemary Chesney has been writing stories ever since she learned her ABCs. In fourth grade she won $100 towards camp in a creative writing contest against dozens of students much older than she. She began "The Channel of Monsters" with a pencil and notebook when she was eleven years old. She finished it at age fourteen on her iPhone. Rosemary resides in Birmingham, Alabama with her parents and two brothers. She is a straight A student at Restoration Academy and is also #1 on her tennis team.

Book preview

1

Welcome to My World

W ell, I guess it all started on the crazy first day of school. I was staring at myself in the mirror with my new uniform and backpack on. I stared at my mop of chocolate brown hair and wondered what sixth grade was going to be like.

Something hot and wet rubbed against my leg, waking me up from my daydream.

No, Mickey, I don’t have any dog treats for you, I muttered, pushing my dog away with a kick.

Mickey Mouse was my dog’s actual name, but everyone called him Mickey. By his name, you’d think Mickey was some kind of tiny dog like a Chihuahua, right? Wrong. Mickey was a ginormous Great Dane; the type of dog that little girls scream and run away from when they see him walking down the sidewalk. Mickey was about the size of a small horse (and he ate about as much as a full-grown elephant). He had been my aunt’s dog until he jumped out the window of a moving car. That’s when they decided that he was too much trouble, and it was better to dump him off at my house.

I felt Mickey rub his wet nose against my leg again. No dog treats, Mickey, I barked a little loudly, backing away from him. No, you don’t need to get any fatter—

Crash!

My leg slammed against my bedside table, knocking the glass lamp to the floor. Darn, I thought, as I stared at the broken pieces of glass littering across the room. I’m in trouble again.

I always seem to get into trouble wherever I go, from knocking over racks of clothes at the store to setting off the fire alarm at school to breaking a china doll at my great-aunt’s house. One day, I even managed to destroy my mom’s beautiful (and expensive) flower garden by running a lawnmower through it. And she really loved that thing.

It was on a hot August day that the lawnmower disaster occurred, one of the days when all you want to do is lie down in the air-conditioned house and sip a cold bottle of Coke. Anyway, my mom ordered me to get up and go mow the lawn. Sighing, I got off the sofa and went to mow it. But it was such a hot day and I was so tired that I started to space out. The next thing I knew, I was running the lawnmower right through one of her orchids. I didn’t see my TV for more than a month after that.

Like I was saying, I get myself in trouble a lot. People say they see it in my eyes. My eyes do this strange thing where they turned a fiery red when I’m mad, but only when I’m mad. Usually, they’re a greenish-hazel color. My mom says that it’s just allergies, even though I know there is no such thing as an allergy where your eyes turn red. I should know. I’ve looked it up about a thousand times.

I heard my mom calling to me from downstairs, Devin! Devin, hurry up. It’s almost time for school. You don’t want to be late on your first day!

Sighing, I called back, I’m coming, Mom! Reaching the door, I turned around to take one last look at my room. The bed was a mess—broken pieces of glass were scattered everywhere, clothes littered the floor, boxes were stacked up in one corner, random sheets of paper lay all around the room. It was just how I liked it. Little did I know that that would be the last time I would see my room for a very long time.

What was that loud crashing sound I heard from upstairs? asked my mom as she set a bowl of cereal down in front of me.

I took a long sip of milk.

Did you break something else?

Umm … maybe.

Devin! She stabbed her egg with a fork. Why do you always—

I’m sorry! It was an accident, I swear! Besides, I never liked that lamp anyway. I’ll buy myself a new one today. I cringed under her glare.

"Fine, but you’ll buy it with your money, young man, not mine!" she snapped scowling at me.

Great, I thought. There goes my new Xbox.

Alright now. My mom looked me over and combed my hair and all of that annoying stuff, Now don’t forget your manners, and always try your hardest, and be nice to everyone you meet. Oh, your dad would be so proud to see you now.

My dad died in a car crash a couple years back. It’s a touchy subject.

Bye, Mom, I said, trying to get her to stop messing with my hair.

Bye, sweetheart, she answered, and I hurried out the door before she could touch my hair any further. If I had known then how long it would be before I’d see my mom again, I would have gladly let her brush my hair a little longer. Instead, I just rushed out the door, waving behind me without even looking back.

As I turned the corner, I saw my one and only friend, Mitchell. Not Michael, Mitchell. He hates and I mean hates when people call him Michael. One year in third grade, a teacher called him Michael so many times in class that he finally yelled out, Be quiet! That’s not my name! But usually, he’s a pretty chill guy. Usually.

Hey, Mitchell! I grinned, fist bumping him.

What’s up, dude? he asked. You excited to see our little friend Noah again?

Noah is the biggest bully known to the whole state of New York, which is where we live by the way (in one of those little suburbs outside the big city.) Noah’s the kind of person who would hold a magnifying glass over an ant just to watch it burn. For some reason, out of all the kids at the school, he hates me and Mitchell the most and just loves to make all of our days miserable. He’s the reason why Mitchell’s my only friend.

Yeah, I’m absolutely thrilled to see him, I muttered sarcastically, causing him to laugh.

Mitchell has curly chestnut-colored hair, brown eyes, and enough freckles to make you dizzy. The one thing he loves most in the world is sports, and his favorite team is the New York Yankees. I rarely ever see him without his Yankees cap slung over his head. He’s always jabbering about the Yankees’ newest pitcher, best hitter, latest coach, and how good they’re going to do this year. Yankees this and Yankees that. Sometimes it seems that’s all we ever talk about. Don’t get me wrong, I love sports too, but it’s nice to talk about something else for a change.

We turned another corner and headed up to a big, ugly brown building that looks like a prison. It’s actually our school, Kristford’s Academy. It was renamed after some guy named Kristford gave a lot of money to the school. I always wondered why he bothered wasting his money on some dumpy school that the kids hate.

Oh no, Mitchell groaned and pointed toward a rough group of kids near the front door. Noah stood in the middle of them all pushing around a little first grader, who seemed to be crying, Noah’s right over there, and he’s already found a little kid to bully. Maybe we should stay clear of them and go through another door.

Oh, come on, I said and yanked him toward Noah and the kid. You know the drill.

Aww, Mitchell whined. "Do we have to walk into every fight?"

"We can’t just stand here and watch him bully some poor little first grader. Or at least I can’t. If you want to leave this poor kid alone to be harassed, then be my guest. But I’m going over there," I declared.

Okay, okay, okay. You’re right. I’m coming, Mitchell replied hastily, and we headed straight over to the crowd.

Where’s your money today? Noah barked, shoving the poor kid against a wall.

I … I don’t have any! the kid squealed. He was close to tears now.

Squeezing my way to the middle, I growled, Leave him alone! and yanked Noah off the kid, which took a lot of effort, considering Noah’s weight. He turned to glare at me with his beady little eyes.

And why should I? Noah grunted.

I gulped as his friends stepped forward, cracking their knuckles. They were preparing for a fight. See, I’m sort of a skinny kid for my age, and I didn’t like my chances in a fight against these future sumo wrestlers. Being beaten to a pulp was not something that I was in the mood for. I had to think quickly.

Because …—c’mon think of something, I thought desperately. Think of something! Think of something!—Because he has a terrible disease! Yes, an awful disease called … um … Hylonomous. It’s highly contagious! If you even go near him, you might get sick.

Noah raised his eyebrows, Hylonomous?

I sighed in relief as Noah’s friends stepped back. For such a tough guy, Noah was pretty dumb.

I don’t have Hylo— the little first grader started but I stepped on his foot. The kid fell silent.

Yes, he had Hylonomus. It’s a rare disease that makes all the blood inside your body … um … go up to your head. On the outside, this kid looks fine, but on the inside, he’s dying. He’s lucky if he even survives to next week!

The kid started crying again.

Are you sure? How do you know this? Noah asked, his eyes narrowing.

Positive. My mom is a doctor (another lie) and she told me all about Hylonomous. She said that the only symptom of it is pale skin. Look closely at his skin. Doesn’t it look a little pale?

Noah peered at the kid. You know, it actually does look a little pale.

See? What did I say? He has Hylonomous for sure. I’m taking a risk here by standing next to the kid, but pushing him against a wall? You must be asking for a death sentence, I replied, shaking my head grimly.

Mitchell, who was standing at the edge of the crowd, seemed about to burst from holding in his laughter. I shot him a look.

Okay. Noah grinned a cruel, mean grin. Well, if I can’t touch him, at least I can do this! At that, Noah grabbed the kid’s lunch from his hand and dumped the containment all on the ground. All his friends laughed.

Let’s leave, guys, Noah barked. See ya, losers! And he and his friends walked away laughing.

That was a close one! Mitchell sighed as he helped me pick up the kid’s lunch.

Do I really have Hylonomous? The kid asked with a sniffle.

No, I answered, handing him his lunch. Don’t worry. You’re in perfect health.

Oh. The kid broke out in a smile. Thanks, and don’t worry about the lunch. I did have money to buy a school lunch anyway.

Great, I replied. Now go on to class.

Bye! he called as I watched him run away toward door 3.

The first bell rang just as the kid slipped through the door, Aww no! Mitchell moaned. I don’t want to be late again!

Well, let’s go then, I replied, and we rushed off through door 1 just to realize that we had no clue where the new sixth grade room was.

Hurry, Mitchell said. I think the sixth grade room is … that a way.

We ran down corridor after corridor and turned corner after corner, pausing at every door to see if it was the right one.

I groaned as I heard the second bell ring out. Oh! Great to start off a bright new school year. We’re late on the first day.

Well, come on then, dude. Let’s run! Mitchell exclaimed and we took off in full sprint down the hallway.

No running in the halls! a teacher called out as we ran past, but we ignored her.

Turning another corner, Mitchell tripped on a pencil and tumbled to the floor.

You okay?" I asked, pulling him up.

Yeah, I’m fine, he replied and dusted his pants off, but we really should go, man.

With that, we took off again, sprinting down the hallway in search of the new room.

After running for what seemed ages, we turned another corner and ran into our new room labeled 6th Grade. Standing there, we huffed and puffed, trying to catch our breaths. We were a whole ten minutes late!

Uh-oh! Mitchell whispered.

Welcome to my world, I answered.

2

I Burn Down My School

I sn’t it nice of you to join us? Just my luck. We get the meanest teacher there is, Ms. Dracul. Let’s have you two sit right up here, she said, gesturing to the front two seats. And since you missed the first ten minutes of school, why don’t you stay after school for ahh … thirty minutes, she said, giving us a huge smile like she’s doing us a big favor.

With her perfectly straight blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes, Ms. Dracul looks kinda like a movie star but acts more like the Grinch who stole Christmas. She could be Noah’s mom.

Hold on now, I started. Mitchell and I were only late because a little first grader was—

Did I ask why you were late? Ms. Dracul snapped, still smiling that fake smile.

I sighed. No, ma’am.

Do you think that it is acceptable for students to come to class late whenever they please? she asked sweetly.

No, ma’am, I muttered, glaring at her.

Then is there a problem here, Mr. Shield? asked Ms. Dracul, cocking her head to the side.

No, there isn’t, I replied, staring at my feet. You are the problem, I thought in my mind but kept silent.

Well then, sit down, please, right in front of me, she ordered then turned toward Mitchell. And you have just earned yourself an extra thirty minutes after school too, Mr. Shield.

I nodded, glaring at the ground and plopping down in my seat next to Mitchell as I thought up as many bad names as I could to call Ms. Dracul.

Hey, it could be worse, I whispered to Mitchell as I flipped open my science book. She could have called our parents.

That will be another twenty minutes after school, Mr. Shield, announced Ms. Dracul briskly, and I’m calling your mom.

From the back, I heard Noah snickering. Man, I thought, this is going to be one long school year.

I had no idea.

. . .

The recess bell finally rang. I know most schools don’t have recess past the fifth grade, but seeing as Kristford’s Education was a private school, it sort of made its own rules. Man, Mitchell said as we walked out on the basketball court, that Ms. Dracul is a mean one.

Yeah! She could be Cruella De Vil, or maybe the girl version of Voldemort, I answered with a laugh. As you can tell, I watch a lot of movies. Going to the movie theater is usually a weekly thing for me. I’m an expert in sneaking in food at a movie theater. One time, I snuck in an entire Little Caesars pizza, three jugs of soda, and a jumbo bag of popcorn. Seriously! Sneaking things into places is a hidden talent of mine.

Hey, dude, did you hear about the game? asked Mitchell while grabbing a basketball and shooting it toward the nearest hoop. It missed by a good five feet.

What game? I asked.

Big mistake.

The Yankees game, of course! You must have watched it. Mitchell looked at me in shock. See what I mean about sports freaks.

Um … yeah, definitely. That game was insane! It was always safer to lie in these kinds of situations. Trust me, I know.

Man! When Parmelee struck out, I nearly cried! He laughed.

Yeah. I chuckled, having no idea who Parmelee even was. Snatching the basketball from the ground, I attempted to shoot a three-pointer. The ball never left my fingertips.

Smack! Noah knocked the ball out of my hands. I glared at him, wondering why I hadn’t noticed him come up on us. His friends burst into laughter.

Hey, punks! Whatcha doing? Talking about the latest Barbie doll? Noah smirked, and his friends all cracked up again like that was the funniest joke ever. Noah’s a big guy like a football player. His beady gray eyes didn’t fit the rest of his big, fat head.

Get lost, Mitchell barked, but Noah just laughed some more. Well, this was too much for me.

Do you have brains? Or are you ugly and stupid?! We don’t want you here! So go steal candy or terrorize the teachers or do whatever else you do in your free time. Just leave us alone! I growled at him.

Watch your mouth, freak, or I’ll beat you up. And you don’t even have a dad to protect you! he snarled back.

Yeah! one of his friends yelled.

Noah will beat you up! another threatened.

Not that your dad would be much help anyway, Noah sneered. I bet he was as much of a pathetic little wimp as you! A scrawny, helpless loser!

I burned at this. My dad was definitely off limits to talk bad about, especially for someone like Noah.

Keep my dad out of your mouth! I growled through gritted teeth. My dad was a great man! He was kind and strong and brave; all the things you’ll never be!

Aww how cute, the little wimp is defending his pathetic father! sneered Noah.

His friends all burst into laughter. I clenched my fists in anger.

Come on, guys, commanded Noah. Let’s get away from these two losers. And with that, they stalked away, laughing.

But I was mad. And I mean really mad. Making fun of me, okay, but making fun of my dad? That I couldn’t deal with.

You okay? Mitchell asked, noticing my eyes had turned red. To answer his question, I grabbed a stone off the ground and chucked it at Noah. It hit him square on the back of his head. He turned around, furious, and his eyes looked grayer than they’ve ever been. Now, this was where the crazy parts came in; suddenly, his whole eyeball turned clear gray!

The change started happening after that. Fur grew out of his back and Noah’s arms turned into hooves. I stared in disbelief as horns bulged out of his head and a mini tornado started swirling angrily around him. Am I dreaming? I thought in a daze. Any second now I’ll wake up in my bed at home, and this will all just be some crazy dream.

But I didn’t wake up when his friends started changing into monsters the same way Noah had. They were demon bulls! I backed away in terror. If I hadn’t been standing there watching them, I would have never believed it.

Right then, I saw Mitchell do something very brave. He grabbed the biggest rock he could