A Story by EJ's Horror

Raymond Evans was made to attend a course, he is absolutely bored and the teacher had not even arrived. What he will realise that this classroom was not as boring as he first thought.


I’d never felt so bored in my life, I heard of doing the odd four-hour course for work, but this was just ridiculous.

I sat in a beat up, dusty and depressing classroom, it reminded me of primary school back in the nineties. I saw the projection machine looked at the rusty old reel that was connected to it. I resisted every temptation to raise my hand up to say “Teacher, Hitler called, wants his world war 2 propaganda back!”

My next thought was what kind of severely underfunded work training program is this? I’d felt like the classroom door had somehow taken me back in time. Well, this room had some sort of supernatural effect at least, because I’ve completely forgotten both, why I am here? Not to mention where the bloody hell did I park? 

“Hi, there.” Spoke a bubbly voice from my left.

I turned around and saw a skinny, baby-faced and smoking hot beauty smiling at me.

I quickly snapped out of my day-dream of self-pity and switched my brain into what I would call conversation mode.

“Hey,” I spoke casually. “How’s it goin’?”

“You’re new, here aren’t you? She spoke.

“New?” I laughed. “Lady, we’re only here for one day!”

“It feels longer, maybe it’s just me,” she laughed. “Oh, I’m Tracey, by the way, Tracey Saunders, I am a surgeon at a hospital in Brisbane.”

I didn’t ask for her life story but seeing as I’m about to be trapped next to her for the next four hours, I thought I’d may as well entertain this extrovert’s desperate need for my attention.

“I am Raymond, Raymond Evans, pleased to meet you.” I held my hand to shake hers, but instead I felt her hand rest on my thigh. I ignored it and turned around to face the dusty black board.

“And?” I heard Tracey’s voice ask.

I ignored her again, the sooner I can get through this pointless lesson the sooner I could leave and buy groceries. I noticed the Teacher hadn’t arrived yet. I checked the clock that hung about the blackboard, he or she was indeed at least five-minutes late.

“And?” I heard again.

“And?” Tracey said again.

“And? … And? … AND?!?!” her voice exploded in my ear.

I could have sworn I’d lost some hearing in my left ear as a result.

“AND WHAT?!?” I yelled. “And I’m bloody half-deaf now!”

Tracey gave a sad, puppy-dog face, she almost looked like she was apologetic about running over somebody’s Cat or something.

“I’m sorry.” She replied. “I just get carried away with my job.”

“Okay…” I said. Like that was a perfectly rational explanation on why she screamed in my ear, I swear I ignored her for way less than thirty seconds. “Good for you, Lady. Now if you don’t mind…”

I looked around and saw that our yelling had not even disturbed the rest of the class at all, the majority of them were just staring at the board. One elderly Man was laying on the filthy classroom floor and crying. Not even the people who were seated around him bothered to aid or comfort him.

“I HAVE A BOMB STRAPPED TO MY CHEST!”  called a Middle-Eastern Man from across the room. I felt a bit frightened, but after I looked around and saw that none of my classmates noticed, let alone cared. I just naturally assumed that Man may have had a horribly case of Tourette’s or something and they were aware of it.

The Man looked around and realised nobody was paying any attention to him, he took his seat and sighed. “Why can’t I get laid?”

I had started to believe I may be in the wrong classroom, could this be some sort of mental health program? I pulled out my phone and read my most recent text message, “See you at room 7B! 8 am sharp.”

I glanced at the poorly washed board and saw the crude, faint but somewhat legible markings that spelt ‘7B’. I felt slightly a bit more reassured, but I thought it would be best to collect my notebook and wait outside of the classroom for the teacher, just for my own personal health and wellbeing.

“Arrggghhh!” I screamed. I felt what could only be best described as someone trying to rip my personal area off from in-between my legs. “What the F**k, Lady!?!”

“Sorry, I was just checking if you were cis,”

“Cis?” I replied. “What on blazes are you goin’ on about you weirdo?”

“I was double-checking you were a Cisgender male, why does this have to be a drama?” she spoke.

“Whatever that word means, NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!!! How would you feel if I just grabbed your b**b while you were sitting there?”

Tracey smiled. “I’d find that very invasive and disrespectful,”

“Likewise!” I spat.

“And?” she asked.

“AND F*****G WHAT?!?!” I yelled back. I felt so frustrated, I was deeply contemplating hitting her. It was bad enough she would persist with that question, now that I’ve had my personal space invaded, I cared not anymore that this course was mandatory, I was not going to sit here and take this mistreatment. Actually, I could sue this training facility for sexual harassment, I’d feel very awkward with questions from the police and the media, but it would line my pockets for the next few years. Though, getting witness testimonies from my zombie classmates would be the most difficult challenge.

I decided to answer Tracey’s question and walk out the door.

“What is your occupation?” she asked. Tracey had appeared completely undaunted by the multiple occasions I furiously raged at her.

“I am a…” I cleared my throat and continued. “a… a… a” No, it wasn’t a stammer, the truth was this was the point in time I’d realised I could not for the life of me remember where I worked. “Unemployed” I lied. I thought it was best just to satisfy her curiosity, rather than risk her following me out to my car. Then again, I didn’t even remember where I parked.

“Anyway, I got to go to the little boy’s room.” I lied again.

Tracey’s face lit up, as if she was a child who had just opened her Christmas present. Her expression did not calm my growing feeling of awkwardness.

“Can I come?”

I gave her a hard look, even stuck my finger in my deafened ear to reassure myself I had heard that right and replied. “What?”

“Can I come with you to the little boy’s room, please?”


I didn’t bother to wait for a response or even to collect my pen and my cheap two-dollar notepad, I knew it was time to leave. I did not want to stick around and end up in this insane young Lady’s car boot.

As I walked out, I was stopped by the door as it opened right in front of me, I saw a robed old Man, his face was heavily wrinkled and scarred, I’ve also noticed he’d bore two eye sockets instead of eyes. I’ve fought every urge to scream at the sudden shock of this Man’s grotesque sight. I even fought off the scream as he grabbed my arm, walked past me and proceeded to drag me towards my desk, next to the Crazy Woman.

“WHAT IS THIS?” I screamed. “LET ME GO AT ONCE!” I turned around to punch him, only to find out, for a frail Old Man, he seemed to of packed some ridiculously rock-hard biceps under his robe.

“Where do you think you’re going, Prime Minister Evans?” he asked. The Robed Man’s voice sounded like an accent from an eastern European Country, and his voice was hard, as if he was from the military.

“Prime Minister?” I replied. “F**k me dead, I’ve wondered into a nut-house!”

The Robed Man turned to face me, he stared blankly into my eyes, I could have sworn for a second, I could see parts of his brain. My next thought was why was he staring at me? He obviously could not even see, let alone stare.

“You seem to have a bit of Death Amnesia.” He spoke calmly. “It’s alright, it’s perfectly natural after experiencing a violent Death.”


“Who the F*****g Hell are you?” I asked. Then again, I didn’t give him time to reply, as soon as I felt his grip on my arm lessen, I tried to make a run to the door. Only to my dismay I found that old coot was a lot stronger than he appeared. With what appeared to be minimal effort, he threw me back on to my chair. Strangely the desk was on top of my lap, I must have passed through it, how? I had no idea.

“If you would be so kind as to restrain yourself, Prime Minister, I will kindly calm your fears.”

I took a deep breath in a desperate measure to untense myself. I’ve never felt more scared about anything in my life. Finally, I nodded to the Robed Man and laid my hands flat on my desk.

“Firstly, you’re dead!” laughed the Robed Man. His voice was so calm and casual that he may as well of told me the price of a television at Bi-rite or something.

“I’m dead? How is that supposed to calm my fears?” I asked. “Who are you?”

“I’m Charon, and I will be your escort to the Underworld,”

“I’m dead? Charon? Underworld? Are you another mental patient?” I said.

“This isn’t a mental facility Prime Minister,” replied Charon. “All these people in this room were killed by a suicide bomber,”

“THAT’S ME!” yelled a Middle-Eastern accent from behind me. I could only guess was that crazy lunatic, I mistook for having Tourette’s syndrome. “Where are my virgins, Allah?”

Charon slapped his face with his palm and sighed. “Zeus’s c**k! We have another one.”

“What happened? Where am I?” I asked. Nothing that was said had done the least bit to restore my memory. I tried to remember where I was before I entered the room, but unfortunately, I only kept on drawing blanks. No matter how hard I tried to remember, it did very little to enlighten my situation.

“Well, that idiot over there thought for some stupid reason blowing himself up for a political cause was going to as you mortals say, ‘Get lucky’.”

Suddenly, I had a flash back of myself walking to my office, surrounded by body-guards and other politicians. I noticed there was a young Woman who appeared to be Tracey had followed me, a good distance behind my entourage. I noticed she held a small knife in her right hand. I remember I felt very scared, so I whispered to my body-guard on the left. “There’s a crazy B***h following us with a knife!”

The Body-guard looked behind us and turned and whispered to me. “Just relax, Prime Minister, Evans. I’ll signal security as soon as we turn around the corner,”

“Thanks, Nigel!” I replied. I noticed he was the Old Man who had been lying on the Classroom floor crying.

I woke up and I turned over to Tracey. I’ve already accepted I was dead at this point. So, I felt no more fear towards her. “Why the Hell were you following me, Tracey?” I asked.

Charon gave out a loud burst of laughter. He continued to mindlessly chuckle as he snorted, “Tracey?”

“Why are you laughing? You twisted f**k!”

Charon quickly composed himself before he took a step closer to me and replied, “Her name is Jackie Jones, serial killer, probably one of Australia’s best. She wanted your manhood preserved in a jar, I’ve dealt with her victims before obviously.

“AND I WILL CLAIM MY PRIZE!” Tracey or should I say Jackie yelled. She lunged at me with a worn down and sharpened ruler, with all that time we sat in this classroom she must have improvised a weapon. “I WILL HAVE YOUR ESSENCE, EVANS!”

I stood up and picked up my desk and swung it at her, the force of the impact had snapped her neck. After I threw the desk down in a false sense of security she rose again. Charon laughed at all of the commotion.

“They aren’t very bright this generation, are they? You tell ‘em they’re dead and they still try to kill each other!” laughed the Robed Man.

As she got up and charged at me with her sharpened ruler, I saw her face that now looked at me sideways on the count of her broken neck. I noticed the rest of the class, whom now I recognised were office clerks and security personnel had not even left their seats, in fact it was like they barely noticed the disturbance. I heard Charon’s voice in the background, “Now for those of you who aren’t trying to kill or maim each other I have an introduction video I’d like to present!”

I threw Jackie against the wall and held her down, she bit me on my right arm, I tried to swing her clenched jaw off it, but her recently broken neck only made head more flexible.

“… I apologise its not on DVD, but our department has had some financial cut-backs.”



                           THE END.

© 2018 EJ's Horror

Author's Note

EJ's Horror
Thank you for taking the time to read this!!! I will appreciate any honest feedback :) ie: Characters, plot, concept

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Added on April 10, 2018
Last Updated on April 10, 2018
Tags: bizarre, strange, odd, weird, horror, death, obsession, greek, mythology, myth, politic, dark


EJ's Horror
EJ's Horror

Rural, Queensland, Australia

Monsters surround us everyday, we just don't see them until it's too late. more..

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