This school gives me the creeps

𓋹𓂀

𝔽ℝ𝔸ℕ𝕂𝕀𝔼 leaned casually against the lockers, her bolts glinting faintly under the fluorescent lights. After saying their goodbyes to Draculaura, she turned her attention to Cleon, who was busy typing on his iCoffin looking for ideas for the party. Her curiosity got the better of her as she tilted her head and asked, "Cleon, how did you and Zeraphine fall in love?"

Cleon froze for a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. "Ah, Frankie, now that is my favourite story," he said, his tone practically dripping with enthusiasm.

Frankie smiled back, her excitement matching his. "Really? Tell me! Was it super romantic, like Draculaura's whole thing with Valentine?"

Cleon chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against his own locker. "Not exactly. It's definitely our story, though. A bit messy, a lot chaotic, and—let's be honest—not even in the same galaxy as Valentine's sappy moonlit serenades. But it's perfect to me."

Frankie's eyes lit up as she adjusted her bolts. "Okay, okay, spill! What happened?"

Cleon De Nile had a reputation at Monster High. He was the epitome of charm and arrogance, with a dazzling smile and an ego large enough to match his ancient lineage. He strutted the hallways like he owned them, golden accessories gleaming in the fluorescent light, and his sharp words left a sting that rivalled any scorpion's tail. Most monsters steered clear of him, intimidated or unimpressed by his attitude.

Zeraphine was not most monsters.

From the moment she spotted him leaning nonchalantly against his locker, eyes half-lidded with disinterest, Zeraphine was intrigued. Her snakes hissed softly in her ears, curious about the boy with the golden cuffs and the distant gaze. There was something in his posture—confident yet lonely—that drew her in.

She made her move during lunch. Cleon sat at his usual table, surrounded by admirers who laughed too hard at his jokes and nodded too quickly at his opinions. Zeraphine slid onto the bench beside him, her tray clattering slightly as her snakes rearranged themselves around her shoulders where her long dark hair lay on.

"Hi," she said, her voice bright and unwavering.

Cleon barely spared her a glance. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," Zeraphine replied, undeterred. "But I think that's about to change."

The table fell silent. One of Cleon's admirers stifled a giggle, but Cleon's blue eyes finally locked onto hers underneath her dark sunglasses, assessing, curious. "Bold. I'll give you that. But I don't do charity cases."

Zeraphine didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned closer, her snakes swaying hypnotically. "Good thing I'm not a charity case. I'm a challenge."

Cleon blinked, momentarily thrown off. For the first time in what felt like centuries, someone hadn't cowered under his words.

"Good luck with that," he said coolly, dismissing her as he turned back to his meal.

But Zeraphine wasn't easily discouraged.

Over the next few weeks, Zeraphine made a habit of "bumping into" Cleon. In the library, she'd conveniently need the same scroll he was studying. In the halls, her snakes would "accidentally" tangle around his arm as she passed by. Each time, Cleon would sigh, roll his eyes, and offer a sharp remark.

"You're persistent," he said one day as she plopped into the seat beside him during study hall.

"Persistent?" she repeated with a grin. "I prefer determined."

"You're wasting your time."

"Maybe," she said, shrugging. "But I like wasting it with you."

Cleon stared at her, genuinely baffled. "Why? What do you want from me?"

Zeraphine's smile softened. "A smile, for starters. And maybe to prove to you that not everyone who wants to know you is after something."

He didn't respond, but she noticed the way his eyes lingered on her snakes as they coiled playfully around her shoulders.

It was a rainy afternoon when Cleon's walls began to crumble. Zeraphine found him in the gym, practising a fearleading routine with uncharacteristic aggression. The room echoed with his muttered curses.

"Rough day?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Cleon glared at her but didn't tell her to leave. Instead, he stood there looking at her. "What do you want, Zeraphine?"

"To play," she said simply, her snakes coiled tightly as, clearly unfamiliar with the sport.

Cleon snorted. "You're terrible at this."

"And you're terrible at making friends," she shot back with a grin.

For the first time, Cleon chuckled—a soft, surprised sound that he quickly stifled.

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing, Zeraphine fumbling and laughing as Cleon reluctantly coached her.

It was the third time Zeraphine asked him out that finally broke him. They were in the library, Cleon seated at a corner table surrounded by ancient scrolls. Zeraphine slid into the seat across from him, resting her chin on her hand as her snakes tilted curiously.

"Cleon," she said sweetly. "Go out with me."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why do you keep asking?"

"Because you haven't said yes yet."

He looked at her, really looked at her. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her snakes swaying gently as if in anticipation. She wasn't intimidated by him, wasn't impressed by his wealth or lineage. She just... liked him.

"Fine," he said at last, throwing his hands up. "One date. But if it's terrible, you're never asking me again."

Zeraphine beamed, her snakes hissing triumphantly. "Deal."

The date was anything but terrible. Zeraphine took him to the Monster Botanical Gardens, a place filled with bioluminescent plants that glowed under the moonlight. She told him stories about her childhood, about how her snakes were her only friends for years. In turn, Cleon opened up about the pressure of living up to his family's legacy.

By the end of the night, Cleon realized something startling: Zeraphine made him feel seen, like he wasn't just Cleon De Nile, heir to an ancient dynasty, but simply Cleon.

From that night on, Cleon changed. He became softer, kinder. Zeraphine's relentless humour and warmth chipped away at his arrogance until all that was left was a boy who adored her. She made him laugh, sometimes until his sides hurt. She challenged him, called him out when he was being insufferable, and celebrated his victories as if they were her own.

In return, Cleon became her biggest supporter, always ready with a protective arm or a golden smile that was just for her.

They weren't perfect—no couple was—but their love was real. It was built on persistence, patience, and the understanding that sometimes, the best relationships start with a challenge and a girl who refuses to give up.

Cleon leaned back against the lockers, a rare, genuine smile lighting up his face as he finished the story. The usual sharpness in his eyes softened, replaced with warmth. "And that's how Zeraphine and I got together," he said, almost as if reliving those moments in his mind.

Frankie, standing across from him, clasped her hands together and beamed. "That's so sweet, Cleon! I mean, wow, you really have a softer side, huh?"

Cleon smirked, crossing his arms. "Don't let it get around. I've got a reputation to uphold."

Frankie laughed, her bolts sparking faintly with amusement. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. But seriously, you and Zeraphine are like... relationship goals."

Cleon chuckled, glancing down the hall where Zeraphine was chatting with some friends. His smile grew even fonder. "Yeah. She's the best decision I ever made."

Cleon pushed off the lockers with an easy confidence, a faint smile lingering on his lips as he headed down the hall. His eyes immediately locked onto Zeraphine, who was standing at her locker, her snakes lazily curling and uncurling as she laughed at something on her Coffin phone.

Without hesitation, Cleon walked up to her and, in one swift motion, pulled her close. Zeraphine let out a startled laugh, her green eyes wide as she looked up at him. "Cleon! A little warning next time?" she teased, though the smile on her face betrayed her delight.

Cleon smirked as he gently tucked a stray piece of her dark hair behind her ear. "Where's the fun in that?" he murmured, his voice low and smooth. Then, leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her jawline, earning a shy flush across her cheeks and a quiet giggle.

Before she could recover, Cleon took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. "Come on," he said casually, giving her a small tug. "Clawdeen's waiting."

Zeraphine followed, a dreamy smile on her face, her snakes swaying contentedly as she let Cleon lead the way. Clawdeen, standing a few feet away, watched them approach with a raised brow. "Took you long enough," she teased, but there was a grin on her face.

Cleon just shrugged, his expression softening as he glanced at Zeraphine. "What can I say? I like to take my time with the important things."

"Cleon, Clawdeen and Zeraphine knew a place buried deep below Monster High, that would be perfect for the party."

Cleon raised the torch high, its flickering light casting long shadows on the damp stone walls as he led the way down the narrow staircase. The air grew cooler with each step, a faint mustiness filling the corridor. Behind him, Clawdeen tread carefully, her sharp eyes scanning the darkness ahead, while Zeraphine followed close, her snakes hissing softly in curiosity.

"This place is giving me serious haunted crypt vibes," Clawdeen muttered, her voice echoing faintly in the cavernous descent.

Cleon glanced back, his expression calm but determined. "Just stay close. If anything jumps out, I'll handle it."

"Typical hero complex," Zeraphine teased, her voice light as she carefully stepped down. "But good to know I've got you and your flaming stick to keep us safe."

Cleon smirked, his grip tightening on the torch. "Flaming stick, huh? Remind me not to save you first."

Zeraphine chuckled softly, her snakes playfully nudging her cheek. "You'd miss me if you didn't."

Clawdeen rolled her eyes with a grin. "Focus, lovebirds. We're not exactly on a date here."

The three descended deeper, the faint sound of dripping water growing louder with each step, the unknown awaiting them at the bottom of the staircase.

"The catacombs!"

The hallway stretched on for what felt like miles before finally opening into a wider corridor. Clawdeen paused, pulling out the map they'd been following. She squinted at it under the dim torchlight and pointed to a mark. "The map says there should be an old concert hall somewhere around here."

Cleon let out a dramatic groan, dragging a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Ugh! Hasn't anyone heard of GPS? This whole map thing is so last century."

Zeraphine chuckled, her laughter light and melodic, her snakes swaying under her hair as though amused too. "Maybe next time, Cleon, you can program ancient ruins into Waze for us?"

Before he could respond, they stepped into a large room. The walls were adorned with faded murals of skeletal musicians, and at the far end stood a massive door shaped like a heart.

"Look!" Clawdeen exclaimed, her sharp eyes lighting up. She sprinted toward the door, inspecting it closely. "It's got a keyhole. There must be a key around here somewhere."

Zeraphine's gaze drifted upward, her sharp vision catching a glint of metal. On a raised platform sat a skeleton, its bony fingers clutching a skullet-shaped key. "Clawdeen! I found it!"

Clawdeen gasped in delight as Zeraphine climbed onto the platform with a grace that made her look almost regal. She snatched the key, turning to descend, when Cleon stepped forward, extending a hand with the confidence of someone offering help to a queen stepping off her carriage.

Zeraphine smirked but took his hand, hopping down. "Well, thank you, kind sir," she teased.

Cleon shot her a crooked grin. "Don't mention it, my queen."

With the key in hand, Zeraphine approached the heart-shaped door. The skullet key slid into the lock with ease, and as she turned it, the sound of grinding gears echoed. The door creaked open, spikes retracting into the floor, revealing the passage beyond.

"Finally," Clawdeen cheered, already stepping forward.

But the moment they entered, a foul stench hit them like a brick wall. Zeraphine's snakes hissed and retreated under her hair, while Clawdeen pinched her nose. "What is that smell?"

Cleon waved a hand in front of his face, grimacing. "Who died in here?"

Before anyone could answer, ghastly figures began to materialize in the air—horrifying ghosts with hollow eyes and sinister grins. The three froze in shock as the ghosts floated closer, their low moans echoing ominously.

Cleon instinctively stepped in front of Zeraphine, holding the torch higher as they all backed away slowly.

Suddenly, a loud splash made them spin around. They turned to see a gaping hole filled with bubbling green liquid, emitting the noxious stench.

"Oh, my ghoul!" Clawdeen exclaimed, gagging slightly as she stepped back.

A voice echoed from above, cutting through the tension. "Well, that was a close shave!"

They all looked up to see Operetta standing on a ledge, her hands on her hips.

Cleon sighed in relief, smiling. "Operetta. Thanks for the save."

Operetta tipped her hat with a grin. "Y'all nearly fell into the Cauldron of Eternal Body Odor. One dip in there, and whoo-ee..." She waved her hand in front of her nose. "You'd stink like a polecat for a thousand years!"

All three exchanged horrified looks, Zeraphine muttering, "Lovely," while Cleon grimaced.

"So," Operetta said, hopping down to join them. "What brings y'all down here?"

Zeraphine stepped forward. "Draculaura wants her birthday party here."

Operetta nodded, pulling a lasso from her belt. "Well, then, let me rope this off for you so no one takes a little dip."

As she worked, Cleon glanced around and muttered, "Perfect! Now all we need is about a thousand scented candles to cover up that smell."

Zeraphine laughed, nodding. "And maybe a little fresh air—just a bit."

Clawdeen clapped her hands together, her excitement outweighing the odour. "Let's get to work!"

𓋹𓂀

By: SilverMist707

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