The trio slid into the classroom just as the teacher, Mr. Hargrove, was writing the date on the board. He was a tall, wiry man with a perpetual frown, as if he disapproved of everything he hadn't personally approved. His tweed jacket and horn-rimmed glasses gave him the aura of a man who had spent too long in academia, and who now ruled his history class with an iron pointer.
"You're late," Mr. Hargrove said, not bothering to turn around as he adjusted his glasses. "Again."
"Not by much," Asher mumbled as they made their way to their usual seats at the back of the room.
Moros gave a shrug and whispered, "At least we're consistent."
"Late again, and you'll be doing a report on the history of tardiness," Mr. Hargrove added dryly, finally turning to face the class. "Now, where were we before our ghost hunters decided to join us?"
A few snickers erupted from the other students, but Moros just rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the metal bar underneath the desk.
"As I was saying," Mr. Hargrove continued, "today we'll be discussing ancient civilizations and their beliefs about the afterlife. Very fitting for our supernatural enthusiasts in the back."
Asher exchanged a glance with Malissa and Moros, their earlier ghostly encounter still fresh in his mind. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. He wondered if Mr. Hargrove somehow knew about their recent adventure.
Mr. Hargrove tapped his pointer on the board. "Let's start with Egypt. Can anyone tell me what the ancient Egyptians believed happened after death?"
Jamie, sitting near the front of the room, raised her hand. "They believed in an afterlife and that the soul, or ka, would journey to the underworld. They also thought they needed to preserve the body through mummification to survive in the afterlife."
"Correct," Mr. Hargrove said, nodding approvingly. "And what was the key to navigating the afterlife?"
Moros, feeling bold after their encounter with the guardian spirit, raised his hand lazily. "Uh, wasn't it like... the Book of the Dead or something?"
Mr. Hargrove's gaze shifted to him, an eyebrow raised in faint surprise. "Very good, Moros. The Book of the Dead was indeed a guide, a collection of spells to assist the soul in navigating the treacherous paths of the afterlife."
Malissa leaned over to Asher and whispered, "Can't help but feel like we could've used that earlier."
Asher stifled a laugh. He could picture Mr. Hargrove lecturing the guardian spirit on the proper protocol for safely guiding teenagers through spooky warehouses.
Mr. Hargrove began to pace, continuing his lecture. "Now, the Egyptians believed that the soul would be judged in the Hall of Ma'at, where the heart would be weighed against a feather. If the heart was lighter, the soul could enter paradise. If it was heavier, it was devoured by Ammut, the soul-eater."
The room fell into an eerie silence as Mr. Hargrove described the process. Even the usual background chatter had quieted down, as the mention of soul-devouring had caught everyone's attention.
"Sounds like a bad Tinder date," Moros muttered under his breath, and Asher had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.
But Mr. Hargrove wasn't finished. He paused and turned back to the class, his gaze settling on the trio in the back. "Of course, many ancient cultures had their own interpretations of life after death. The Greeks, for instance, had Hades—lord of the underworld—and the concept of spirits haunting the living."
He took a step closer, as if the entire class had disappeared and he was now speaking directly to them. "Ghosts, you see, were often believed to be souls with unfinished business. Or worse, souls who had been wronged. And those souls," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "often sought revenge."
Moros leaned forward, a grin playing on his lips. "So what you're saying is, ghosts are basically just ancient vigilantes?"
Mr. Hargrove's expression remained neutral. "In a manner of speaking, yes. But be careful, Mr. Moros. History has a way of repeating itself. Even in the strangest of ways."
The trio exchanged uneasy glances. As much as they liked to joke about ghosts and guardians, there was something about Mr. Hargrove's tone that set them on edge.
As the lesson continued, Asher found it hard to concentrate. His thoughts kept drifting back to the guardian and her cryptic words. The whispers will always guide you, if you choose to listen. What had she meant by that? And why did it feel like her message wasn't just about getting out of the warehouse safely?
By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Asher was no closer to any answers. He gathered his books and slung his bag over his shoulder, following Moros and Malissa out of the room.
"Okay, what's the plan for lunch?" Malissa asked as they joined the throng of students moving through the hallway. "And no, I'm not taking any detours through ghost alleys."
"How about we check out the library?" Asher suggested, glancing around to make sure no one else could overhear. "I want to see if there's anything about guardians. Or… y'know, whispers."
Moros grinned. "Always the scholar. Fine, but if we find any haunted history books, I'm out."
"Deal," Asher replied, feeling a strange sense of urgency settling in his chest.
The trio made their way to the library, the echoes of Mr. Hargrove's lecture about unfinished business and vengeful spirits still lingering in their minds. As they passed through the rows of shelves, Asher couldn't shake the feeling that their adventure with the guardian wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
As the trio stepped into their History 101 classroom, the atmosphere was a blend of excitement and apprehension. The walls were plastered with colorful posters of historical figures and significant events, while the smell of chalk dust hung in the air. A few of their classmates were already settled at their desks, engaged in hushed conversations or frantically reviewing notes for the upcoming quiz.
Asher plopped down into his seat, letting out a sigh of relief. "We made it! I thought we were going to be late again."
Moros slid into the seat next to him, grinning. "Yeah, but we narrowly avoided being haunted by homework deadlines. That's a win in my book."
Malissa took her seat in front of them, pulling out her notebook. "Let's just hope Mr. Hargrove is in a good mood today. He could be the real ghost we need to worry about."
Just then, Mr. Hargrove entered the classroom, his presence instantly commanding attention. He was tall and stern, with glasses perched low on his nose, giving him an air of authority. The students immediately quieted down, and Asher couldn't help but notice the flicker of tension in the air.
"Good morning, class," Mr. Hargrove greeted, his voice steady. "I trust you all managed to complete your reading for today?"
A few students exchanged guilty glances, but Malissa raised her hand with a confident smirk. "Of course, Mr. Hargrove! We've been haunted by your assignments all weekend!"
The class erupted in laughter, and even Mr. Hargrove cracked a smile. "Well, that's one way to put it, Malissa. But remember, knowledge is power! Now, let's dive into the age of exploration, shall we?"
As he began the lecture, Asher found himself zoning out, his thoughts drifting back to the glowing guardian they'd encountered earlier. What did her cryptic warning really mean? He felt a strange tug at the back of his mind, as if the whispers she spoke of were beckoning him.
"Hey, are you even paying attention?" Moros whispered, nudging him with his elbow.
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Totally," Asher stammered, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Just… thinking about the assignment."
"Right, sure," Moros replied, rolling his eyes. "Just don't think too hard. We need you awake for the quiz."
The class continued, and Asher forced himself to focus. Mr. Hargrove passionately explained the voyages of explorers like Columbus and Magellan, weaving in tales of discovery and adventure. For a moment, Asher felt a spark of inspiration, imagining himself sailing the seas, uncovering mysteries.
Suddenly, the classroom door swung open, interrupting his daydream. A girl with disheveled hair and wide eyes stumbled in, breathless. "Sorry I'm late!" she gasped, her cheeks flushed. "I got caught up in… uh… an incident."
Mr. Hargrove raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "An incident? Care to elaborate, Melissa?"
Asher's heart raced. He recognized her as Melissa, a classmate known for her penchant for drama.
"Uh, well, I was in the park, and I saw a—" she began, but the words were barely out before the class erupted in laughter.
"A ghost?" Malissa chimed in, smirking.
"No, not a ghost!" Melissa insisted, hands flailing in frustration. "It was a raccoon! A huge one! And it was digging through the trash, and I thought it was going to attack me!"
The laughter continued, and even Mr. Hargrove couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Class, let's save our ghost stories for Halloween, shall we?"