barucai

[Story] NEW UNIVERSE! Thornhill's Tall Tales

Published: September 3rd 2024, 9:00:10 am

Hi Hi ✨

I hope you're doing good! Today we begin a new story on a new universe! I'm still not sure the direction I wan this universe to take, but I want to explore more 'magical' and 'fantastical' concepts (as if a virus that transform women into amazons isn't fantastical enough 😅). If you have any ideas for this new universe, I will be happy to hear them. I hope you like this story and this universe! Which still doesn't has any name, so ideas for the name are also accepted!

Grab the full res image in your drive folders. Members of tiers 3 & 4, you will get access to more more images of other teachers in this magical school!

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Thornhill's Tall Tales

"I swear, if you put one foot out of line at this school, you'll be in for a world of trouble, young man."

Will rolled his eyes, slumping further down in the passenger seat of his father's car. The lecture had been going on for the entire two-hour drive, and he was beyond sick of it.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," Will muttered, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. Trees gave way to manicured lawns as they approached the gates of Thornhill Academy for Exceptional Youth - a fancy name for what Will considered to be a glorified reform school.

His mother turned in her seat, her expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Will, please. We're doing this for your own good. Your behaviour at your last school was completely unacceptable. The fights, the vandalism, the disrespect towards your teachers..."

"They deserved it," Will snapped, crossing his arms defiantly. "Bunch of know-it-all pricks who couldn't control a classroom if their lives depended on it."

His father's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "That's exactly the kind of attitude that landed you here, son. But I promise you, Thornhill is different. They have... methods for dealing with troublemakers like you."

Something in his father's tone made Will glance up, but the man's eyes were focused on the road ahead. Before Will could press further, they pulled up to a large, wrought-iron gate. A security guard approached, checked their names against a list, and waved them through.

The grounds of Thornhill Academy were immaculate, with well-tended gardens and imposing brick buildings that looked more like a university campus than a high school. Students in crisp uniforms walked in orderly lines between classes, their voices a low murmur rather than the usual cacophony Will associated with school.

"Creepy," Will muttered under his breath. "What is this, some kind of brainwashing facility?"

His mother chose to ignore the comment as they pulled up in front of the main administration building. "Now, remember what we talked about. Best behaviour. No back-talk. And for heaven's sake, try to make some friends this time."

Will grunted noncommittally as he climbed out of the car, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He had to admit, the place was impressive, even if it did give him the creeps. Everything was just too... perfect.

A tall, thin man in a neatly pressed suit emerged from the building, a clipboard in hand. "Ah, you must be the Thompsons. Welcome to Thornhill Academy. I'm Mr. Fairfax, the administrative assistant. We've been expecting you."

Will's parents shook hands with Mr. Fairfax, exchanging pleasantries that Will tuned out. He was too busy scanning the grounds, trying to get a read on the place. Where were the cliques? The troublemakers? Surely not every kid here was a perfect little robot.

"And you must be William," Mr. Fairfax said, turning his attention to Will. "I trust you'll find Thornhill to be quite... transformative."

There was something in the man's smile that set Will on edge. He mumbled a half-hearted greeting, already planning his escape routes.

"Now then," Mr. Fairfax continued, "if you'll follow me, we'll get William settled in his dormitory and then meet with the headmistress to discuss his academic plan."

Will's mother stepped forward, worry etched on her face. "Mr. Fairfax, I hope you don't mind me asking, but... we were told that Thornhill has special methods for dealing with... challenging students. Could you elaborate on that?"

Mr. Fairfax's smile never wavered. "I assure you, Mrs. Thompson, our faculty is more than equipped to handle even the most... spirited of students. You'll see for yourself shortly. Now, shall we proceed?"

As they followed Mr. Fairfax into the building, Will couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into something far beyond his understanding. The halls were eerily quiet, the students they passed all wearing the same placid expression. It was as if all the life had been sucked out of them.

"Hey," Will whispered to a boy about his age who was passing by. "What's the deal with this place? Why's everyone acting like zombies?"

The boy's eyes widened in alarm. He glanced nervously at Mr. Fairfax's back before leaning in close to Will. "Just do what they say, man. Trust me, you don't want to mess with the tea-"

"Thomas!" Mr. Fairfax's sharp voice cut through the air. "Don't you have a class to attend?"

The boy - Thomas - paled visibly. "Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He scurried off without another word, leaving Will more confused and unsettled than ever.

They arrived at a nondescript dormitory room, sparsely furnished with two beds, two desks, and two wardrobes. "This will be your home for the duration of your stay at Thornhill," Mr. Fairfax explained. "Your roommate is currently in class, but you'll meet him this evening. Now, if you'll leave your belongings here, we can proceed to the headmistress's office."

Will's father cleared his throat. "Actually, Mr. Fairfax, I think this might be a good time for us to say our goodbyes. We have a long drive back, and..."

"Of course, of course," Mr. Fairfax nodded understandingly. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait outside."

As soon as the door closed behind Mr. Fairfax, Will turned to his parents. "You can't leave me here," he hissed. "This place is weird. Everyone's acting like they're under mind control or something."

His mother sighed, pulling him into a hug that he reluctantly returned. "Oh, Will. It's just a strict school, that's all. Give it a chance. Please, for us?"

His father clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Son, I know this seems harsh, but we're at our wit's end. Your behaviour... it has to change. Thornhill has an excellent reputation for turning troubled kids around. Just... try, okay?"

Will wanted to argue, to fight, to do anything but accept this fate. But looking at the worry and hope in his parents' eyes, he felt his resolve crumble. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll try. But if this place turns out to be as creepy as it looks, I'm out of here."

With final hugs and promises to call soon, Will watched his parents walk out of the room. As the door closed behind them, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being locked in a cage.

Mr. Fairfax reappeared moments later. "All set? Excellent. Now, let's go meet the headmistress. I'm sure you're eager to learn more about our... unique approach to education here at Thornhill."

As Will followed Mr. Fairfax down the eerily quiet hallways, his mind raced with questions. What was really going on at this school? What had Thomas been trying to warn him about? And most importantly, what were these "special methods" everyone kept hinting at?

Will followed Mr. Fairfax through the winding corridors of Thornhill Academy, his mind still reeling from the brief but unsettling encounter with his parents. As they approached a large wooden door with a brass nameplate reading "Headmistress Amelia Blackwood", Mr. Fairfax turned to Will with a thin smile.

"Now, William, I trust you'll be on your best behaviour. The headmistress doesn't suffer fools gladly."

Will barely had time to nod before Mr. Fairfax rapped sharply on the door. A crisp "Enter" sounded from within, and they stepped into the office.

Headmistress Blackwood was seated behind an imposing mahogany desk, her piercing grey eyes fixed on Will as he entered. She wasn't particularly tall or physically intimidating, but there was an air of authority about her that made Will instinctively stand a little straighter.

"Ah, our new arrival," she said, her voice cool and measured. "William Thompson, I presume?"

Will nodded, suddenly finding his voice had deserted him.

"Very well. Please, take a seat." She gestured to a chair in front of her desk. As Will sat down, he couldn't help but notice how the chair seemed designed to make him feel small and vulnerable.

"Now, William," Headmistress Blackwood began, folding her hands on the desk, "I've reviewed your file thoroughly. Your academic record is... disappointing, to say the least. But more concerning is your history of disruptive behaviour and blatant disregard for authority."

Will opened his mouth to protest, but a sharp look from the headmistress silenced him.

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear, young man. Thornhill Academy has a zero-tolerance policy for such behaviour. We have... methods to ensure compliance that you may find quite persuasive."

There was something in the way she said "methods" that sent a shiver down Will's spine.

"Your schedule," she continued, sliding a piece of paper across the desk, "has been tailored to address your specific... shortcomings. You'll find our curriculum challenging, but I assure you, it's nothing compared to the consequences of misbehaviour."

Will glanced at the schedule, noting the rigorous lineup of classes and activities that seemed to leave little room for free time.

"Additionally," Headmistress Blackwood added, her tone growing even colder, "you should know that we have ways of dealing with troublemakers that you might find... surprising. Let's just say that even the most rebellious students find themselves falling in line rather quickly here at Thornhill."

Will swallowed hard, his mind racing. What could she possibly mean?

"Do you have any questions, William?" the headmistress asked, her eyebrow arched expectantly.

Will shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"Very well. Mr. Fairfax will escort you to your first class. Remember, William, we'll be watching you closely. I suggest you make an effort to... measure up to our expectations."

As Will stood to leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more to Thornhill Academy than met the eye. The headmistress's words echoed in his mind, full of veiled threats and mysterious allusions.

Mr. Fairfax led Will out of the office and through more winding corridors. "Your first class is Advanced Mathematics with Mr. Peterson," he explained. "I trust you'll find it... enlightening."

As they approached the classroom, Will's mind was buzzing with questions. What were these "methods" everyone kept hinting at? And why did he have the unsettling feeling that he was about to find out?

Mr. Fairfax stopped in front of a nondescript door. "Here we are, William. Remember what the headmistress said. Best behaviour."

Will entered the classroom, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. To his surprise, the scene before him was far from the chaotic environment he'd expected from a school for troubled teens. Students sat quietly at their desks, some engrossed in books, others engaged in hushed conversations. The atmosphere was eerily calm, a stark contrast to the rowdy classrooms he was used to.

Frowning, Will made his way to an empty seat at the back of the room. He slumped into the chair, eyeing the boy next to him who seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," Will whispered, leaning towards his neighbour. "What's the deal with this place? Why's everyone so... quiet?"

The boy's eyes darted nervously around the room before landing on Will. "Shh," he hissed, his voice barely audible. "You need to keep your voice down. Trust me, you don't want to cause any trouble here."

Will's frown deepened. "Why? What happens if I do?" he pressed, his voice rising slightly.

The boy's face paled. "Please," he begged, "just lower your voice. You don't understand-"

But Will had had enough. Frustration bubbled up inside him, fuelled by the day's events and the constant, maddening hints about the school's mysterious "methods". He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"Alright, that's it!" Will shouted, addressing the entire class. Heads snapped up, eyes wide with shock and fear. "I'm sick of all this secrecy. What the hell is going on in this school?"

He strode to the front of the classroom, standing defiantly by the door. "Someone better start talking, or I swear I'll-"

Suddenly, a sweet yet powerful voice cut through the air, seeming to come from somewhere above him. "Mr. Thompson," it said, the tone soft but laced with unmistakable authority. "I believe we need to have a little chat about classroom etiquette."

Will froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Slowly, he tilted his head back, his eyes travelling up, and up, and up...

Will's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the sight before him. Mrs. Peterson, the Advanced Mathematics teacher, towered over him at an impossible height of what must have been at least seven feet. Her frame was massive, with arms thicker than Will's entire body and legs like tree trunks barely contained by her stretchy skirt.

Before Will could react, Mrs. Peterson effortlessly scooped him up with one hand, as if he weighed no more than a kitten. She placed him gently but firmly at the front of the class, then stepped behind him. Will felt her enormous hands come to rest on his shoulders, each one nearly engulfing his entire upper arm.

"Now then," Mrs. Peterson's voice boomed from above, still somehow maintaining its sweet timbre despite its power. "It seems our new student, Mr. Thompson, is in need of an orientation. Who would like to volunteer to explain how things work here at Thornhill?"

The class was silent for a moment, students exchanging nervous glances. Then, a girl with mousy brown hair in the second row hesitantly raised her hand.

"Ah, thank you, Kristen," Mrs. Peterson said. "Please, come to the front and enlighten our new classmate."

Kristen stood and made her way to the front, her eyes darting between Will and the towering form of Mrs. Peterson.

"Um, well," Kristen began, her voice shaky at first but gaining strength as she spoke. "You see, Will, Thornhill isn't just any school. The teachers here... they grow. Like, really grow."

Will's mind reeled as Kristen continued her explanation. She told him about the special room where teachers 'checked in' each morning, drinking a mysterious potion that caused them to grow in both height and muscle mass. She explained how the transformation was temporary, lasting only until they 'checked out' at the end of the school day.

"It's all part of the program," Kristen said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "They say it's to keep our attention, to make sure we behave. But some of us think there's more to it. Like they're testing the formula for something bigger."

Will listened in stunned silence, his brain struggling to process this impossible information. Yet, he couldn't deny the evidence of his own eyes - or the feeling of Mrs. Peterson's massive hands still resting on his shoulders.

"And the weirdest part," Kristen continued, glancing nervously at Mrs. Peterson, "is that we can't tell anyone outside the school. It's like... there's some kind of magic that stops us. We've tried, but the words just won't come out."

As Kristen finished her explanation, Will felt Mrs. Peterson's grip on his shoulders tighten ever so slightly.

"Thank you, Kristen," Mrs. Peterson said, her voice reverberating through Will's entire body. "You've done an excellent job explaining our... unique situation. Now, Mr. Thompson," she continued, bending down so her face was level with Will's, her breath hot against his ear. "Do you understand why it's so important to follow the rules here at Thornhill?"

Will nodded mutely, his mind still spinning from the revelations. He had come to Thornhill expecting a strict boarding school, maybe with some unusual teaching methods. Instead, he found himself in a world of magic potions and giant, muscular teachers - a world he was now irrevocably part of.