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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1255231
Two boys learn the value of respecting school rules through their discrepancies.
St. Patrick’s Academy For Distinguished Young Gentlemen.

Sending your child here was a guarantee that he would be transformed from a wily raggamuffin (that all young boys are) into a member of the distinguished community.

Children despise rules and limitations, teenagers especially. Being confined, and being told what to do around the clock does not appeal to your average youth. Diarmuid was no exception. Having to spend five days and nights a week in a dusty old boarding school was hardly his idea of spending his youthfulness to it’s full capacity.

Exploring, building forts, and getting up to any mischief that came his way was his idea of living like a young person should. Not poring over ancient volumes of forgotten history and lore. Algebra was not going to aid him in his quest for the highest tree to climb, either.

He and his companion in crime, Leary, regularly took to skipping classes in search of some adrenaline-fuelled expedition. Since they were boarders at the school, their absence was easily documented, and they were most certainly punished frequently for their continuing truancy.

Due to the sheer size of the academy, there was opportunity to explore at nearly every turn. The building was over one hundred and fifty years old, with several renovations having taken place over the years. a lot of the older, more disused areas were blocked off for safety reasons. These barriers were easily overcome by anyone with half a mind for exploring and lock-picking though.

If you were to take the East stairwell right up to the fourth floor, you would find a single door. It being double hinged meant that entry was impossible without a screwdriver, but that fact did little to deter the two boys.
Although the find was a little disappointing, they still uncovered dormitories from over fifty years ago, which was sort of interesting in itself. They always made sure to lock doors behind them, in case anyone should find what they were actually getting up to.

The boys also discovered a whole stairwell quite unknown to the majority of students and faculty alike. After breaking into a door in the north wing that had been bothering them for some time, they uncovered a series of corridors that had fallen into disuse decades ago, by the looks of the dilapidated walls and ceilings, at any rate.
Priests chambers lined the corridor, confirmation that the school had previously been a seminary. They messed around with grand and ornate wardrobes and rusted bathtubs, not worried in the slightest for the amount of noise they made, due to the remote location of the rooms.

After a particularly gruelling caning from the headmaster one day, the boys decided they would stop mitching off class, at least for a little while. But the call of exploration was too strong for them to resist. They still had more rooms to uncover in the priests section, and Leary had said he spotted a narrow staircase leading up at the end of the corridor there.

They were to return under cover of darkness; they had arranged to bring candles to light their way. Aside from the dark, they would have to avoid prowling prefects in the more busy corridors. For this reason they planned a route through the quieter halls. An apprehensive excitement filled the two boys; the implications of getting caught would mean expulsion for definite, and not to mention a beating that would leave them looking inside-out.

Two hours after lights-out, the boys crept with such precision and cautiousness the very air around them was undisturbed. After a considerable length of time, they finally reached their destination, only daring to add flame to their candles when they were certain the light would not draw attention to them. Safe in the knowledge of their security, the talked freely as they walked along the corridor with the priest chambers.

They approached the narrow staircase with a growing sense of curiosity. The fact that neither of them could see three feet in front of them added to the sense of forbidden excitement. Although they did not voice their thoughts, both were simultaneously wondering where the stairs could possibly end up. Neither was certain how many floors were above this one, because this wing’s location was indiscernible from the outside of the building; they simply did not know where they were.

Treading on the rotting stairs with a cautious foot, they edged closer to their mysterious quarry, hoping that their efforts would be worth it. An unlocked door at the top sagged open, with an audible sigh of air escaping from the room beyond, the vacuum of air in the room finally released. It was evident that the room had not been entered in some time, judging from the stiflingly stale and foul-smelling air.

The size of the room was incalculable from their position; shadows and darkness hid all that the candlelight did not immediately touch. They fanned out, determined to conquer the mystery of the room, neither succumbing to the fear of being in these bizarre circumstances.

A glint of silver reflecting flame caught Leary’s eye. He went over to examine the sheen. Thrusting the candle upwards to expand the pool of light, the candle revealed a toothy grin. Perplexed, he moved the candle closer, to disperse the remaining shadows.

The glint of silver had been an ornamental letter-opener, thrust down to the hilt into the eye socket of the man who sat in the chair. Leary screamed.

His candle dropped and went out. Startled by the sudden burst of noise, Diarmuid spun around frantically searching for the cause of the commotion. Leary was hyperventilating, and shook frantically when Diarmuid’s hand sought it’s purchase on his shoulder.

A second look at what Leary had uncovered caused bile to rise to each of their throat’s. It was as Leary had initially perceived.
A man, withered and disintegrating, sported an ornate letter opener in his left eye, a snake coiled around it’s handle giving the impression of it immerging from the corpse’s skull. He had clearly been dead a long time, his attire was evident of that. He wore an old-fashion priest robe, characteristic of the clergy more than sixty years ago. The reason for his early passing would probably never be known, and at that moment, neither of the boys could care less.

Sprinting full-throttle back to their dormitories, they cared not whether they were caught or not by prefects and headmasters alike. But they were now faced with the dilemma of what to do with this information. Once the initial shock of discovering a decrepit corpse subsided, they wondered if they should tell anyone.

Telling would be as good as saying they were trespassing in a forbidden area of the academy, not to mention being out of bed after-hours, a crime that warranted a beating in itself.
The next morning, after getting no sleep between them, they realised that they had left every door on the way to the corpse wide open, so it was only a matter of time before someone noticed and went to investigate.

They had learned their lesson though, they decided to never flout a rule again, and they felt a sort of reverence towards authority from then on. They became aware that rules were their to guide, but also to protect. Who could have foreseen what they were being protected against though?



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