Freddy Valler and the Merry Band of Flesh Eating Mutants

(This is a story I've been working on for a while. Hope you enjoy!--And excuse whatever typos there are... My aunt's computer doesn't have spell check =.=;  )

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Summary:

Meet Freddy Valler, bad boy extrordinaire, exchange student... and Hunter of all things that go bump in the night. Sort of like Ghostbusters meets Sherlock Holmes. But when his dad goes missing, he has to try and survive something more dangerous than a pack of rogue werewolves--high school. From a die-hard Christian uncle who refuses to let Freddy go out at night, to an old friend turned traitor, Freddy will need to use something other than brute strength to survive his last two years of high school--his lacking social skills.

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    "... Francis Valler?" I was suddenly jolted out of my day dream that involved my new Calculus teacher and a boiling vat of oil. Mr. Ito (really Mr. Iat, but I dubbed him Ito from that one Elvis movie, Blue Hawaii, since he kind of looks like him, except older and evil. You know that song, Ito Eats? Well, that's how Mr. Iat eats.) glared at me with his black beady eyes, and what little eyebrows he had looked like they were trying to crawl up his bald head. Way up.

    "It's Freddy," I corrected as politely as I could, but I sounded sarcastic even to my own ears.

    "Very well... Freddy." Really, I had no idea how menacing one word could sound. Especially coming from a guy who looked like a hound dog. I could feel some smart ass comment trying to force it's way out of my voice box, so I clamped my lips shut and tried to appear as innocent as possible. Mr. Ito didn't looked convinced.

    "And what school did you transfer from... Freddy?" Mr. Ito asked, but really it sounded like, "In which way would you prefer to die... you weasly little runt?"

   "Um, I was homeschooled, actually." Even though I wanted to say, "I know seven different ways to kill you with your seventies porn-star mustache."

   "Interesting." His tone suggested it wasn't, but I was relieved when he turned to another kid that he could sink his fangs into. Though I felt really bad for the kid.

   I propped my feet on the desk in front of me, my combat boots making loud contact with the plastic-covered wood, and leaned the side of my head onto my hand. I figured that as long as I looked like I was doing something productive with my right one, and Mr. Ito didn't see the head phone snaking out through my sleeve, he wouldn't try to make me a victim again.

   "Um, excuse me?" I glared at whoever was interrupting AC/DC's Highway to Hell. A girl, who looked more like an elf than a teenager, mimicked my scowl and gestured to my feet. With a suffering sigh, I put them back on the ground and turned off my newly bought I Pod, a bribe from my uncle. "You do realize sunglasses aren't allowed in school?"

   I pushed said glasses up onto the top of my head, revealing a scar that ran through my eyebrow and ended at the corner of my right eye. It was pale, hardly noticable unless you were, say, sitting in front of my and turned around in your chair. Oddly enough, the scar wasn't from a knife fight or from something dangerous and stupid--two things for which I'm known--but from an accident involving throwing darts and the wrong place, wrong time.

   Elf girl's eyes widened, but she covered her reaction by conveniently glancing at the whiteboard, and then back at me. "So... Freddy right?" At my irritated stare, she added, "Everyone here knows you. It's a small town."

   "Definitely smaller than New York," I agreed, "but still..."

   "Well, that and you're Pastor Ray's nephew. No one knew he had any family till he told the church to welcome you with open arms and all that stuff." I knew that Uncle Rafael tried to forget his eccentric, thrill seeking family, but it still stung. Even his favorite phrase ,"blood is thicker than water," can only go so far.