Welcome to Herrington High

At Herrington High School, teachers and students alike begin to act rather strange. A group of students from different social circles must stick together despite their differences in order to figure what is going on in their small town, and ultimately survive. What they aren't prepared for is the supernatural creatures that are quietly taking over the minds and bodies of their fellow peers, teacher and students alike. Will this group of misfits save the school and possible the world from an und

Herrington High School; there was nothing extraordinary about the medium-sized school or the students that attended it. Academically it fell in the middle of the road for the state of Ohio, and football was the only stand-out sport as far extracurricular activities were concerned.

"This is a football town," Ms. Drake, the forty year old female principal emphasized again and again. She was no fool the amount of money the school received due to the massive number of parents, students and other townspeople that attend the games on Friday nights.

Casey was not one of those who benefitted from the team's athletic prowess. He was a self-proclaimed geek, and while there was a part of him that envied the bulky jocks who waltzed by him daily with maroon jerseys draped over blue jeans, he was perfectly content eating lunch alone and reading Science Weekly magazines in his spare time.

There was one thing, however, that Casey envied the most about the jocks of Herrington High it was their ability to get a girl. For Casey, it wasn't just any girl; it was Delilah.

Delilah was something special to Casey, though their conversations had always been super-short if at all throughout the four years of high school and three years of middle-school that they'd known each other. As a senior she had won the head cheerleader position and surprise, surprise was dating the school's quarterback, Stan.

Aside from his occasional bouts of jealousy, Casey didn't mind Stan. He said hello to him in the hallways, didn't ask to cheat off his tests and most of all didn't take part in the weekly hazing of ramming him into the flagpole.

Still, Casey dreamed of trading places with Stan, and he would quite literally stomp over him in the mud in order to do so.

Just another Thursday morning, Casey thought to himself as the bus he rode to school came to a complete stop in front of his nemesis - the flag pole. He glanced around at the freshmen and sophomores around him and silently loathed himself. God, my parents need to get me a car.

"Have a good day," the bus driver said as Casey and the others piled off the bus.

"You too." He slung one strap of his hefty, gray book-bag over his shoulder and headed down the set of four or five stairs that led to the asphalt. No sooner than his feet landed on school property, an elbow flew into his nose, sending Casey to the ground.

"Sorry." A sarcastic, male voice filled the air and laughter accompanied the unsuspecting assault.

Casey laid on the pavement for a moment, putting a hand up toward his face where blood began to flow from his nose. "My mistake," he said quietly before standing up and heading toward the stairs that led up to the building he dragged himself to every morning.

A tall, messy-haired super-senior with a bad-boy reputation eyed him as he walked up and held a hand out with a wad of Dunkin Donuts napkins.

Why is Zeke helping me out? Casey wondered, but took the napkins and put them up to his nose before slinking into the boy's bathroom just inside the double-doors that welcomed him into the school.

Another day at Herrington starts off great, Casey thought to himself, can things get any worse?

He rushed into the handicapped stall in the back of the lavatory and proceeded to clean up his face.

"To my office gentlemen." The door to the bathroom opened and closed and Casey recognized the voice. It was Zeke. He hoped he hadn't followed him in to make fun him, or even aid in the hazing that went on almost every day.

"You got us the fake IDs, right?" another male voice asked.

"Fifty bucks," Zeke said dryly.

Casey listened as the boys shuffled through their bags, before an apparent exchange was made.

"That's not me," a third voice chimed in, "That doesn't even look like me."

"Trust me, boys," Zeke said, "I'm brilliant. If these don't score you booze this weekend then I'll give you a full refund."

"What happens when we get arrest?"

"I'm brilliant," Zeke repeated, and then laughed, "I'll throw in a couple hits of this for free, what do you say?"

Casey peeked out of a small crack in the bathroom stall and saw Zeke handing several ballpoint pens to the boys that were filled with a white, powdery substance.

"It's my own recipe," Zeke claimed, "Guaranteed to  jack you up."

Casey ducked back in the stall and shook his head, tossing some bloody tissues into the toilet before pressing more against his swollen nose. He slunk down in the corner of the stall and sat listening to the minor drug exchange going on. When Zeke and the others had left he crept out of the stall, washed his hands and prepared for what was the start of what would lead to a crazy few days at Herrington High School.

The End

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