Old Works- The School of Deception

Authors Note: William, another friend of mine, and I wrote this. We discontinued it because it was very Harry-Potter-like.

The School of Deception

The Unknown Chronicles

By:William, Eddie Knight and That other guy 

Chapter 1:

I was on my way to school on the first Wednesday of the school year. As I was walking to bus stop I felt so cold. It was a cold, cloudy, windy day here in New York. I lived on the bottom floor of my apartment building, and walk to the bus stop wasn’t to long. I reached the bus stop, and got in the bus.

 The bus ride was as boring as normal. As I sat on the cold grey seats and looking out through the foggy window, as usual and saw kids on the street being bullied. As you probably think, I strongly detest the sight of puny kids being bullied on the sidewalk for some stupid reason like refusing to cough up lunch money. I wish I could ditch this bus and show that bully whose boss, but I can’t.

School went by like normal until dismissal. I left the sixth grade wing of my school. I saw an eighth grader picking on sixth grader, and then I snapped. I walked to the eighth grader and stole his lunch money. The eighth grader laughed at me and told me to go away. That’s when I broke his jaw.

I punched him right on his jaw and he squealed like a pig. He got mad and kicked me, but I was too fast. I jumped over his leg and punched him square on the nose. He looked like he had a packet of ketchup smashed by a gigantic sledgehammer on his face after a much-needed nose job.

As he ran away all the others who were crammed around to see the fight scampered away as well. One of the gangly eighth graders looked me in the eye then ran away. Out of his pockets fell a slip of paper. To this day, I don’t know why I picked up that paper, but I did.

On the piece of paper, it said, ”Hello, Jake Peters.” I thought to myself, “How does it know my name?” Before I could examine it closer, I was surrounded at my new “adoring fans”. A few minutes later, I was on the bus and the looming crowd dispersed. I was already sitting on the cool, grey seats all alone ready to read my note. I took the slip of paper and read it. This time, it did no longer said, ”Hello, Jake Peters.” It said to go to a certain address at 8 p.m. The reason I did not tell the certain address is for yours’ and my safety.

It wasn’t difficult to sneak out, due to the fact that my dad is on business in France and my mom is his assistant. The only person who was supposed to watch me was a babysitter who paid me half her salary to lie that she’s there.

As I left for the address, I stuffed my brand new Swiss army knife in my pocket. The walk there was uneventful, until I figured out where the address will take me. The old abandoned warehouse, which was significantly outdated. Its façade reeked of industrial waste while the roof was on the brink of collapsing. I didn’t see why the address would lead me here, to this pile of crap. As I finally approach the warehouse, then I saw the man in the black hood.