The Samhain Chronicles

There were very few instructors at Brighton Academy that had the patience for teaching the usually rowdy bunch of first years, but Danny absolutely lived for it. True, they were definitely a handful, but something about their fresh faces and wide-eyed excitement over everything warmed his heart greatly. It was similar to the feeling one may experience watching a young litter of curious puppies exploring a new environment: messes and new discoveries were made, and all the while their antics were equally adorable, hilarious and just a touch clumsy. Danny was well versed in several subjects, but his personal favorites were History and Natural Sciences. The latter of the two is what he taught at Brighton A. He was in the habit of taking roll and starting class indoors, then, weather permitting, he would move his students outdoors to finish his lecture in the fresh air...and today was absolutely perfect for just such an occasion.

Truly, he had forgotten all about the morning's events, the Voice and his nightmare as he settled his first class of the day in the grass under a large, shady oak tree in the middle of the courtyard. The heat of the midmorning sun was pleasant at first but quickly became sweltering, eventually causing Danny to strip off his tweed jacket. He draped the blazer over a low branch for safekeeping, then began absent-mindedly rolling up his sleeves, "Now, can anyone here describe for me the appearance and properties of a cumulonimbus cloud formation? Anyone?" His students fell suddenly silent and uttered a collective gasp, their jaws dropping open and eyes bulging wide. Danny was perplexed by this sudden change in their demeanor for a moment, until a small girl with fiery red hair in the front row stood and pointed at him rather rudely.

"Prof. Danny," she shouted, "What happened to your arms?!"

Danny's eyes lowered to his bare forearms and a wave of shame rolled over him instantaneously. His bronze tinted flesh was marred by a network of pale scars, criss-crossing their way all the way up from wrist to elbow and beyond. He cleared his throat roughly and swiftly pushed his sleeves back down to hide the marks once more, "Ah... I was...in an accident, long ago. It isn't important, Miss Cassidy, as my arms do not in any way pertain to today's lesson."

A blond boy next to her shot his hand up into the air and waved it curiously, "What kind of accident? Was it a car crash? My uncle was in a car crash last summer, and he-"

Danny clapped his hands together sharply, silencing the boy and his classmates who had begun whispering to each other, "Students, please! No, Mr. Sommers, it was not a car crash. Please do not ask me about it again, any of ye. Now, back to our studies." He felt awful snapping at his students like that, but his scars were an incredibly sore subject for him. In all honesty, he hadn't the slightest clue how nor when he came by them. According to Dr. Horace, they were already there the day they met long ago. He would never forget that cold fall morning when Dr. Horace first came to his hospital room. He had been so confused, so frightened... and Dr. Horace was so kind...

Danny dismissed the thought from his mind immediately and focused again on his lecture. As uncomfortably warm as it was, he kept his sleeves down for the remainder of the class. This did wonders to hide his scars, but by the end of the hour he was already soaked in sweat despite his feverish efforts to combat it with his handkerchief. Eventually the bell rang signifying the end of first period, and the rambunctious group of eleven-year-olds hurriedly gathered up their belongings to scurry off to their next class. "Don't forget I need those cloud illustrations and paragraphs on my desk first thing tomorrow morning," Danny reminded them with a smile, "And have a wonderful rest of the day, Students!" Once they were all out of sight, Danny wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve and checked his watch with a sigh. His next class was due to start in ten minutes, definitely not enough time to run back across campus to his appartment and freshen up. Luckily, it was for this very occasion that he kept a spare clean shirt in his desk drawer, which would have to suffice.

On eagle's wings, he scooped up his briefcase and books and sprinted back to his classroom, hoping he would have enough time to change before his next class began filing in. Once there, he hurriedly closed the door and yanked off his shirt, then began hunting for his spare. It was a tad wrinkled from its stint in the drawer, but he hoped no one would notice. He had just pulled it from the drawer and shaken the dust from it when the door behind him suddenly opened. "Daniel, you left your- oh my goodness!"

Danny whirled around in surprise and turned crimson all over at the embarrassed and horrified young woman standing in the doorway. Just as swiftly, he turned his back to her again, trying to cover up his naked, scarred upper torso with his arms, "M-Miss Penelope!? Y-Ye startled me! Forgive me for being woefully out of countenance!" He slipped his arms quickly through the sleeves of his clean shirt, then froze as he suddenly felt a light, cool touch on the skin between his shoulderblades.

"Daniel," Penelope whispered, "Is this...a brand on your back?"

Danny recoiled from her touch a moment later and pulled his shirt collar taut against the nape of his neck, anger and shame filling his breast, "What it is, Miss Whitehall, is none of your concern!" He exhaled sharply as he turned back around, still fastening up the buttons on his shirt as he kept his eyes trained on the floor, the heat from his embarrassment remaining in his flushed cheeks, "Pardon me for raising my voice. What can I do for ye, Miss Penelope?" Penelope said nothing, perhaps too repulsed and abhorred to speak. When he finally had the courage to meet her soft, brown eyes, they were filled with concern and deep sympathy. Hesitantly, she reached out and took his right hand, pushing up his sleeve gently to the elbow. He shivered as her cool index finger traced one of the longer scars there before it moved higher to rest on his bicep.

"I knew you had scars, Daniel," she breathed, her awe-filled voice so low he could barely hear it, "...but I had no idea they were so...extensive. Honestly, I've never seen anything like it before."

Danny stood as motionless as a statue, his heart pounding like a drum, as her hand moved across to the center of his chest. When she pried back the opening of his shirt to examine the scars on his pectorals again however, he broke from the spell she held him under and took two large steps back. "Miss Whitehall, please!! I appreciate your concern, b-but this feels highly improper!!" He clutched the front of his shirt closed, flustered and agitated by the way she just stood there, staring at him as if he were a pitiful, wounded creature, and felt another hot flare of anger rising up within him, "If there is nothing else, I urge ye to please return to your own classroom! Thank ye!"

Penelope looked as though she may start crying but kept her shoulders back and her head high, her expression cold and unreadable. She then held out the wad of blue tweed stuffed under her arm to him with a short huff of air, "I'm sorry, Daniel; it was not my intent to upset you. I found this, outside in the courtyard, and just thought you might like to have it back. Had I known you were indecent, I would have knocked first." Danny stared at his jacket, suddenly feeling very much an ass, but before he could take it from her she dropped it unceremoniously into his desk chair and turned sharply on her heel. "Forgive the intrusion, Prof. Macdougal," she said curtly over her shoulder as she left, "You have my word it will never happen again."

Danny felt a twinge of guilt and remorse as he gave chase after her, stuffing his shirttails messily into his trousers as he ran, "Penelope... Penelope, wait a moment, please!" He caught up to her easily in the hall thanks to his long strides, catching her by the hand to make her stop and turn back to face him. His mouth ran dry at her calm yet clearly terse features, marvelling at how beautiful she still was even with such a dark expression. His eyes lowered to the highly polished wooden floors as he swallowed nervously, rubbing the back of her small, peachy-cream hand with his thumb, "Thank ye...for returning my jacket. I'm sorry for speaking so harshly. It's... It's just I..."

He looked at his exposed right forearm again and held it close to his ribs, trying to disguise the glaringly pale marks on it, "...I'm...r-rather sensitive about my scars. There are few who have seen them in their entirety, and those that have are usually...intimidated or e'en frightened at the sight." Danny swallowed around a lump in his throat and raised his eyes again to meet Penelope's, "I hope ye understand. I am...rather fond of your companionship, Miss Penelope, and I would be remiss to destroy our relationship o'er something as trivial as my vanity."

She managed a small smile as she placed a hand on his forearm again, "Daniel... of course, I understand. You are entitled to your privacy, which I respect wholeheartedly." She then stepped a little closer to him, dropping her voice to a whisper as she rolled his sleeve back down, "...and don't worry about your scars. They don't bother me a bit."

A wave of relief washed over Danny, along with a bolstered respect for Penelope. Ever since he came to teach at Brighton two years ago, she had always shown him nothing but kindness and understanding. Although he trusted and valued her as a friend, he could not deny that he desired greatly to be more than just a friend to her. He also knew that such a thing was an impossibility. Her acceptance of his scars was one matter, but accepting that he heard an evil voice in his head was an entirely different issue. At any rate, he was just happy to have her as a companion and a colleague, as seeing her beautiful, smiling face every day was enough to brighten his completely. As they stood there in the hall, both seemingly waiting for the other to speak first, he noticed a small twig in her hair by her right ear and smiled sheepishly, "Oh, hold on a moment. It seems part of the tree decided to come in with ye. I've got it." Her creamy pink cheeks flushed a little and she drew in a soft breath as his fingers deftly plucked out the twig and combed her hair neatly back in place above her ear. "There," he murmured, "Much better, don't ye think?"

Penelope let out a small, nervous giggle, "Yes. Thank you, Daniel. I would feel quite foolish walking around with bits of leaves and detritus in my hair."

Danny paused for a moment with his fingertips resting gently on her cheekbone and the top of her ear. The midmorning sun shone strongly through the door at the end of the hall behind her, giving her a kind of warm, etherial glow. "Heavens above, but she's beautiful," he thought.

"Miss Whitehall? MacDougal?! What on Earth is the meaning of this?!?" The loud, angry bellow made Danny leap out of his skin nearly, and he whipped around to see Prof. Thorpe barreling down the hall toward him. The older man was puffing and panting as he charged over, looking every bit like an agitated walrus.

"P-Prof. Thorpe," Danny sqeaked, "I-I'm afraid I don't-..." It was then he glanced down at his messily tucked, half-buttoned rumpled shirt and realized just how closely he was standing next to Penelope. "It's not what it looks like," he blurted, hurrying to finish doing up his buttons, "I can assure ye! W-We were-... th-that is, I-"

"There was a mouse in my room," Penelope offered quickly with a small, ditzy grin, "Scared me half to death, actually. Daniel was kind enough to help by cornering it under a cabinet and catching it for me. It put up an awful fuss, but he was successful in the end."

Danny looked at her in surprise as she gave him a subtle wink, then nodded in understanding, "Oh...y-yes, precisely. It was... quite an animated and frightened wee creature indeed." He then cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter, "Is there anything else I might assist ye with, Miss Whitehall?"

She grinned brightly and patted his arm with a giggle, "Not at the moment, Daniel, thank you."

Danny could have melted into oblivion at her touch, but did his best to keep a professional bearing in front of Prof. Thorpe. Still, he couldn't help but return her smile with a lopsided one of his own, "No... thank you, Miss Penelope...really."

Prof. Thorpe seemed more than a little suspicious of the pair, but it appeared he believed Penelope's quick-witted fib, "Yes... well...spruce yourself up a bit there, MacDougal. Appearace is everything, after all." He addressed Penelope with a warm, albeit sligthtly oily smile, "The next time you have a similar problem, Miss Whitehall, I insist you call on me for aid. My room is right next to yours, for heaven's sake, and I am always available and willing to offer my services to such a beautiful, delicate lady as yourself."

Penelope smiled politely but was clearly uncomfortable, "Oh... that's erm...very kind of you Prof. Thorpe; thank you. I'll try to remember that next time." She cast one more quick, sideways glance at Danny, then turned on her heel and jogged off back down the hall toward her own classroom. Danny followed her with his eyes, watching the hypnotic swish of her rose colored cardigan around her slim waist as she walked away, then was brought back to reality by another harrumph from his senior colleague.

"The bell is due any minute, MacDougal," Prof. Thorpe grumped, eyeing Danny sternly through his bushy eyebrows, "I suggest you make yourself presentable before it rings."

Students had already begun filing into his room for their next class, bringing a small rush of heat back to Danny's face as he remembered his disheveled appearance. He nodded his understanding to Prof. Thorpe, then hurried across the hall to the boy's lavatory to finish freshening up. Thankfully it was empty, so he allowed himself a deep sigh as he stood bent over one of the low sinks and removed his glasses. A shiver ran through him as he splashed bracing cold water on his face, which he then quickly dabbed off with a wad of paper towel. Once his face was dry, he started dabbing the cool, damp handful of paper towel around his neck.

He closed his eyes as a trickle of water ran down the nape of his neck and onto his spine, directly over the brand between his shoulders. Danny could still feel Penelope's cool, slender finger tracing the shape of it, outlining the cirle and each interlocking oval that had been seared into his flesh long ago. The spot prickled again and he gave it a casual scratch before tucking his shirt in neatly and pushing his spectacles back onto his nose. "That will have to do for now," he sighed, producing his now slightly crinkled bowtie from his pocket and tying it back on, "Mustn't tarry any longer; my students are waiting for me." As if on cue the second period bell rang, urging him out of the lavatory and back into business mode.

The rest of the day was rather mundane and uneventful, which was just fine by Danny. As was his habit, he stayed in his classroom for a few hours after the final bell, just in case there were any struggling students that required extra help from him after school. Eventually he packed up his books and called it a night, rubbing his tired eyes as he headed back to his apartment in the Faculty Dormitory. His mind was abuzz with thoughts, mostly involving Penelope and their interaction earlier that day. It might have just been wishful thinking, but he was tempted to think that his unspoken feelings for her may be reciprocated. After all, the way she smiled and touched his arm...

He dismissed the ridiculous thought immediately, scowling at the ground as he walked. Why on earth would a beautiful, intelligent woman like Penelope want anything to do with someone like him? He was painfully awkward on the best of days, and on his worst there was the Voice. Even if she did have feelings for him, a romance would be unthinkable. For one thing, interdepartmental relationships were frowned upon at the Academy, and for another his control over the Voice at times was shaky at best. In the event that Penelope accepted his psychosis, he could not bear the thought of losing control and causing her harm in any capacity.

A long, low growl startled him out of his deep thoughts when he approached the dormitory building, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize it came from underneath his own ribcage. "Must've forgotten to have lunch again," he muttered to himself, then cast a glance at the cafeteria buillding a few doors down. The lights glowing warm in the windows and the chatter of students and teachers alike enjoying their supper tempted him momentarily, as did the mouth-watering aroma of roast chicken and vegetables wafting from the open kitchen door. He hesitated a long while, wondering if Penelope was there and if she might like to have dinner with him, but the presence of the other faculty members stole his courage away. After a moment he shook his head and continued on into the Faculty Dorms. "I have food in the ice box," he reasoned, "No need to take unnecessary risks."

Despite his assumptions however, a cursory check of his small refrigerator and cupboards found his food stores to be quite lacking indeed. All he seemed to have on hand was a half carton of milk (long expired), a few boiled eggs (questionable at best), and a single Pot Noodle cup. He sighed and put the kettle on to boil defeatedly, "Better than nothing. I must remember to head to market tomorrow." He jotted down a note in his planner just in case, chiding himself for becoming so forgetful lately. Dr. Horace assured him that his forgetfulness was completely normal, merely a mild side effect of his medication, but it annoyed him nonetheless. He had just sat down at his frankly too-small desk in the corner of the room to eat his meager supper, when he heard a sharp knock on the door. He wasn't expecting company at all, so the knock startled him quite a bit and piqued his interest even more.

A quick glance through the peephole in the door revealed Penelope, waiting anxiously on the mat. His heart leapt and he ran a hand through his hair just in case, then opened the door wide with a smile, "Good evening, Miss Penelope. This is quite a surprise! What can I do for ye? Don't tell me ye've got an actual mouse that needs catching this time?"

Penelope giggled bashfully and held out the small, red stock pot she carried, "No mice this time, I promise. I made some spaghetti for dinner, and as usual I made too much. Would you care for some?"

Danny eyed the pot hungrily, trying not to drool at the heavenly smell coming from it, then shook his head, "Ah... that is most kind of ye, Miss Penelope... b-but I'm afraid I've already made a bit of supper for myself. Thank ye for offering though."

Penelope glanced in disbelief at the small, paper cup of noodles on the desk beside him and shook her head determinedly, "Is that all you're having?! Daniel, really...! You can't live off those things, you know; they're attrocious for your health." She held up the pot again sternly, but her eyes were smiling, "I worry about you not getting enough to eat, Daniel...and don't think I didn't notice you skipped lunch again today. Please, take it; I insist, and I shan't take 'no' for an answer!"

Who does she think she is? Your bloody mother?! Tell her to leave, and keep her filthy nose out of our business!

Danny chose to ignore the Phantom Voice and took the surprisingly heavy pot from her shyly, "Thank ye. I shall have the pot cleaned and returned to ye first thing tomorrow."

Penelope tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a grin, her cheeks turning a soft, rosy pink, "There's no rush, honestly. I hope you like it. Good night, Daniel." She quickly ducked into her own apartment with a small giggle, after which he retreated into his with a smitten sigh.

You like her, don't ye? I thought ye had better taste than that.

Danny set the pot on the stove angrily, "And what if I do?! It doesn't matter either way, ye know that. She can ne'er know how I truly feel."

Let me play with her. She's such a homely little thing, but I'd bet she'd make quite an entertaining toy!

Danny backpedaled in horror; the Voice had come from right beside his ear, and he was almost positive he could feel a cruel, icy breath on his neck. "No!" He shouted, "I won't allow ye to hurt her! Penelope is my friend, and I care deeply for her! Leave me alone!!" He pressed his hands over his ears as the Voice began to laugh mockingly, then stumbled into the bathroom. "Have to keep it quiet," he mumbled, tearing open the medicine chest, "H-Have to keep it in!" After a bit of frantic pawing he located one of the spring-loaded syringe pens he kept at the very back of the cupboard and set it to maximum dosage. With a wince, he jabbed it against his left bicep and engaged the needle, groaning softly as it pierced his flesh. Within seconds he felt the familiar burning, tingling sensation of the drug it contained hitting his bloodstream.

The laughter stopped immediately, followed by a sudden and intense blanket of overpowering lethargy. The pen dropped from his hand and bounced across the tiled floor as he staggered out of the bathroom and over to the bed like a zombie, his vision quickly becoming warped and blurred. He was unconscious before he hit the mattress, collapsing into it face first at a ninety degree angle. He laid there all night as still as a corpse, wrapped in a velvety cocoon of deep, dreamless slumber.