Stonewood Academy

Stonewood Academy, A prestigious boarding school in Bath, England is not all that it seems. What happens when three americans except full ride scholarships to this mysterious school?

Reign as Thea
Sophia Fletcher as Juliet
Angelo W. Chute as Oliver


5. The First Day of Classes


  Oliver Reed- Finding my room seemed to become increasingly difficult. With a building of this size and little help, it made finding it very hard. Everyone seemed to forget where my class was. It's pretty aggravating. Relief flooded over me when I finally found the right room... and then I remembered, it's nothing to be that excited about, it's still school... Right?


JULIET: After Thea finally finished putting together her... eh... outfit, we headed out to find our first class. After some help of snickering older students, we found our class. The plaque in front of the room reads: Professor Julius Whaver. Julius? This teacher must be the dark haired man I saw the headmistress talking to last night. I ponder this for a minute, but soon forget about the whole ordeal. It’s none of my business anyway.

The door is locked unfortunately so all Thea and I can do is stand there. I suddenly notice all the other people standing by the door as well. All are scholarship students, ranging through every grade. Strange that they wouldn’t mix us with the paying students and even stranger we have the same core class as other grades.


THEA: “Why is the door locked? Class is supposed to start like, now.” I try the handle again, with no such luck. I let out a loud sigh. “This school is starting to annoy me. With the weird speeches and locked classrooms.”  I look down the hall and see a green haired boy walking towards our group. “Hey, Oliver!” I shout over the buzz of voices.


Oliver Reed- It doesn't take long to locate the voice's origin. "Sup," I say, approaching Thea and Juliet. "Classroom still locked huh? I wonder why that is."


JULIET: “Oh, hey Oliver. Good morning to you,” I say and pause, reflecting about his comment. “Hmm, I was thinking the same thing. I guess teachers are late for class all the time, but you would think on the first day of school... Although I do believe I saw Mr. Whaver up quite late last night with the headmistress, whatever that was about... Maybe he didn’t get enough sleep?” I say.


THEA: A spark lights up my eyes. “Spill! Give me all the juicy details!”


Oliver Reed- "You know, I have to agree with her. Teachers don't stay up late unless they have good reason. Or something regarding their personal life that we as students must learn at the fastest rate possible."


JUlIET: “Haha, very funny,” I say, with a slight edge of sarcasm. “So how was the party last night? What did I miss?”


THEA: “Well, I broke out of the school, jumped in the lake, got caught when I returned inside, and now have detention. But it was worth it. Made some senior friends.” I smirk. “But other then that it was totally awesome, you missed a lot.” I grab my dorm mates hands in my own. “Promise me you’ll come to the next one?”


JULIET: I look down at Thea’s hands, grasping mine. Maybe I have my real first friend? “Sure. It’s just that sometimes all the movement and chaos at stuff like parties makes me feel a little funny, however weird it sounds. It’s not that i’m claustrophobic or anything, it’s just...”


THEA: I laugh. “Well don't worry, Oliver and I will dance and be loud enough that you won't have to do anything. Greeny here, took the dance floor away.” I smirk in his direction.


Oliver Reed: I shrug. "It's a North Dakota thing, I guess." I can't help but remember the parties I used to set up back In my hometown. Those were the best.


JULIET: I laugh at the remark, but soon turn my attention to the man, slowly walking towards us. It’s most definitely the man I saw last night, chiseled face and pitch black hair. “Hey, I think Mr. Mysterious finally decided to show up,” I say faintly.


THEA: I look to where Juliet is staring, and see a well dressed man stalking towards us, key in hand. “Um, don't you think it's a bad impression to leave on your new students to be late to the class that you teach?” I ask him, hand on hip.


Oliver Reed: "Is something wrong, Mr. Whaver?" I ask, taking the more polite route. It's a good way to get on a teacher's good side fast, and I learned it's a good thing to be on a teacher's good side, even if the teacher's behavior is worse than the students, and that's saying something.


JULIET: “No, nothing’s wrong of your concern. Thank you for asking Mr. Reed. As for you,” Mr. Whaver says, directing himself towards Thea. “I do believe you’re in my room for detention later today, after the little stunt you pulled last night,” He says, giving Thea a stern look. How does he know Oliver’s name already? The teacher continues, while unlocking the classroom door. “Now will everyone neatly follow into the classroom and find a seat? You may sit wherever you please, as long as you do not cause any disruption to the class. We have some very important things to learn today, so I hope you will all show me due respect and pay attention.” I slowly follow into the classroom with everyone else. Strangely, the room is like a blank slate; all white washed walls, a teacher’s desk, and student tables. Nothing else.


THEA: “After the little stunt you pulled last night.” I mock as I walk behind Juliet into the white room, Oliver behind me. “Weird classroom, and class for that matter. ‘Study of Mortals’. What the heck are we going to learn anyway? And this class is for the whole day!”


Oliver Reed: "I love learning!" I say, thrusting my textbook into the air like a trophy. It's intended as a joke. I'm didn't come across seas to be the shy kid in the corner, I'm going to act the same way I did in North Dakota. Plus, is might make teacher and students more fond of me.


JULIET: I slide into a seat at one of the desks and Thea fills into the one beside me. Slowly the class fills until everyone is sitting down. I notice the sharp dry erase board has something written on it in Black marker: This class, only today, will last through all your class periods. Underneath the message is Mr. Whaver’s name written in an elegant cursive flourish. This is bound to be interesting. How can a class possibly last all day?


Oliver Reed: As the teacher continues talking, I quickly realize the best seat I could have would be with Thea and Juliet. It's either that or a pair of Americans already getting ready to snooze or other British people looking way too serious for me to sit by. Thankfully, the tables were lined for three chairs to be at a table at once, so i could fit right in. I wonder what everyone thinks of me, not sitting with my roommate. Little do they know I don't have one.


THEA: Oliver slides into the seat next to me, and I shoot him a smile as I pull out my notebook. Mr. Whaver claps his hands together and the classroom goes quite. “Welcome, to you first class at Stonewood Academy for the gifted. As you can see on the board, this class lasts the whole day. It’s somewhat of an introductory class.” He lets a small grin slip. “Now before we began, I am Mr. Whaver, to those of you who don't know me.” He says. This is going to be a long day.


JULIET: The teacher continues with his speech, “Now, I don’t want to alarm you but today, in this class, your life might just make an entire rotation,” Oh great, another teacher pep talk. I’ve heard this before... “Now new students, I know you are all probably very confused between the speech at orientation last night,” He gives Thea a cold look and continues, “the older students, and well, the segregation of scholarship students. You will have answers today.” He goes to his desk and reached for a small plastic box with buttons; a remote. He clicks a button and suddenly a projector lights up one of the blank white walls with color. The image before us looks like an illustration of some sort of chemical compound. Seeing all the confused looks in the room, Mr. Whaver tries to stifle a slight laugh. “Now, I’m almost certain most of you have never seen this compound before, but It is properly called Hypothixis, a special chemical mixture that is found in all of you who sit in my class today, as well as myself. Normal beings do not contain this compound, as they do not reach quite the capacity that all you do.”


Oliver Reed: There is one reason I'm actually interesting in what he is saying: he promised answers regarding this school, questions that have truly stumped me. It gives me a good reason to listen. "It's this chemical, Hypothixis, that is what separates you from... mortals, I suppose. This chemical, and a series of other chemicals, is what makes you special. Special to everyone you know, and unique to everyone here. I will explain this in further detail in a minute. Please turn your eyes to the screen, and I'll continue."


THEA:  What is he saying? That we all have a weird… chemical disease???  I face the screen just as it begins to play. At first it just shows the warehouse, looking all fine and glorious, a sign reading ‘Hypothixis Research Laboratory’ outside the building. Nothing too bad right? Wrong. The video snaps to a clip inside the warehouse, and I have to clench my teeth to keep the gasp in. Lying on a operating table in the middle of a lab, lays a young girl, no more than ten, and tied down. She is wears a white hospital gown, and tubes and needles  stick out of her, one tube pumping a bright blue liquid into her small body.

The worst part?  She’s screaming.

I clench the notebook in my hands as the scientists around her do nothing but record what they see. They don't even flinch as the girl suddenly goes limp, her heart monitor a flat line. I can't believe this! Are they really showing this in school!? What sick monsters would show us this!? The video continues as the heart monitor leaps to life as the girl suddenly jolts up, her body catching on the belts that hold her down. Again, the scientists just look amused as they record their findings. What the actually heck.

Mr. Whaver stops the video and turns to us. “That blue liquid that was being pumped into her veins is the serum known as Hypothixis. A serum that when it is injected into the human system, interacts with the cells to create a special… effect. Or power. It varies with each person. That young girl was injected a few weeks prior to this video, and the serum had been breeding with her cells to create enhanced cells of their own. Her enhanced cells gave her the ability to come back to life.” He pauses to let what he just said sink in. But he doesn't give me nearly enough as he continues. “Over the next couple of years, the scientists at this laboratory experimented on many subjects, mostly humans, but some animals as well, but each experiment had a different effect. some patients could breathe under water, some could summon fire at their will, some could teleport. But each person generated a different power, some stronger than others.” A twinkle shines in his eye as he stops. “They called themselves the Gifted. And you are all here today because you are one of them.”


JULIET: I stare in shock at Mr. Whaver. Is this supposed to be some sort of sick joke or scare tactic to get us to do our homework? I want to speak out, to say this is all wrong, but the words are lost, spiraling down endlessly without revival. I look around at my fellow classmates. Most look as horrified as me.

Mr. Whaver begins to speak. “Now students, I know most of you are probably still very confused. I will explain further,” He pauses, almost dramatically and continues. “Now, experiments like you have seen in this video have been going on for the last hundred years or so, since the chemical compound Hypothixis was first found in Caucasus Mountains in Russia.” An image of snow peaked mountains appears on the wall and Mr. Whaver continues. “That’s where most of the experiments began on willing subjects, either for war efforts or for a chance to be healed of a deadly sickness. Most of the time, the experiments were successful, but other times...” He trails off, “Well let’s just say things started to get out of hand, test subjects were no longer volunteers, and many people didn’t make it through the painful and dangerous procedures. Today however, unruly Hypothixis Experimentation has almost completely disintegrated, although the subjects of the past have not. They have left a legacy more important to humanity than you will ever know. After much study, researchers of the secret chemical experiments have found descendants of the original test subjects have also developed special abilities, although usually thinly dispersed throughout the generations of reletives. Any one of you are most probably the only descendant in your family line who has showed signs of special abilities.” He pauses again, letting the information sink in. This is so messed up. Am I actually supposed to believe all this? I look at Thea who only holds a blank expression on her face. I wonder what she is thinking about all this. The teacher begins again, grasping everyone’s attention. “Now, I must further explain why you are here today. Of course, many of the researchers at our school have been keeping track of families connected to the original experimentation subjects. If our files show that you are even slightly related to a known Gifted, we make it our first priority to send out specially created tests to determine if you have active Hypothixis cells. This test determines if you have a special ability. Of course, you have all been given this test, probably through your school system. We have specially formulated all the questions on the test to determine certain aspects of you to be normal or abnormal. If you’re here, in this classroom today, that means you have tested positive for abnormality from normal humans. Most of you havn’t seen signs of your gifts yet, but we are here to help them manifest. Unfortunately, there are those right now in the world who are like you but can recieve no help. This is because many of the original experiments were done in secret. We just don’t know about all the victims, but thankfully we are constantly making new discoveries. Infact, just last year, we discovered a large file on some of the original gifted and have traced many of their descendants to The United States. I’m sure many of you have already had the pleasure to meet some of our new international students,” As he says this, he lets his eyes rest on the table at which Thea, Oliver and I sit, although he gifts a special glare to Thea. “Thankfully, you are here, and we’re here to help you embrace your true nature.” At that note, Mr. Whaver clicks a button on his remote and a new image opens up onto the wall. It’s a picture a boy, roughly my age with bright blond hair. Suddenly the picture begins to move as a new character steps onto the screen, a short girl with long black hair, pulled back with a pink headband. Suddenly, in what seems like no time at all, the boy suddenly disappears, replaced by a doppelganger of the girl who waves and disappears. No sooner does the twin girl vanish, when she’s replaced with the boy who had just been standing in the same spot seconds ago. The film stops and all eyes turn towards Mr. Whaver. “This is called shapeshifting, to ability to change your form to match another person, or even animal,” The teacher says, gesturing to the frozen screen. This is beginning to be too much for me. I take a deep breath, but I find myself choking on air when I’m suddenly interrupted by a shout from the back of the room.

    “Is ‘dis some sorta joke?” The voice says in a thick, male, cockney accent. I turn around to see a british boy standing up, out of his seat. “We all know ‘fat ‘dis video you just showed us is jus’ some good actin’ and basic computer editin’, ‘fat’s all! We’ not stupid you know!” He shouts in annoyance. Other kids pitch in until the room is a bumbling swarm of noise. The teacher only smiles at the kid and laughs.

    “Well, I was definitely prepared to assume most of you wouldn’t believe me. That mean’s I’ll just have to give you all a real life demonstration.” He says, a wicked grin painted across his sharp face. Although he hasn’t demonstrated anything yet, the look on his face gives me enough incentive to believe what he says is true.

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