By Lyle Stiles
Illustrated by Angelo Teeman and Hulan Chadraa
Published on October 24, 2025
Age Group: 10-13 years
Word Count: 4910 words
Estimated Reading Time: 24 minutes
Lyle Stiles is a Brooklyn-born sci-fi author and science communicator. As a recovering neuroscience researcher, he throws a dash of real science into many of his fictional pieces. He is also a SFWA member with two previously published short fiction works (Mephisto & Me and The Pox Party) who is currently working on a middle grade fantasy novel. You can find him, his ramblings, and some interesting or funny book quotes at: @thewritestiles.bsky.social on Bluesky (or on his website at Lylestiles.com).
No one was safe from the Baby Apocalypse!
(Wow, that’s a terrible start. I should try another angle.)
This isn’t a who-dunnit. It’s more of a why-dunnit.
(That sucks too… Maybe my report should start simply.)
My name is West. I am an aspiring detective—who happens to be a sophomore at Halloween High. Also, I’m a were-platypus.
(Meh, it’ll do.)
For me to explain what happened, I have to start near the beginning.
I entered Fears and Frights class.
I took my normal seat at the back, near the door. Because it was a few minutes after the start of class, the room was packed. The usual ghouls, goblins, and creatures-in-between filled rows of rectangular desks with straight-backed wooden chairs. Ghoulish students chatted, while others gazed at their phones waiting for Ms. Bigfoot’s arrival.
Me? I just stared at the window across the room. A full moon was out, but I wasn’t in my platypus form. Were-blood only ran on my father’s side, so I usually needed an extra trigger to transform. Anyway, in my white shirt and cargo shorts, I looked as human as the non-paranormals we were trained to frighten. But scaring hairless humans with no powers? Where’s the challenge? I’d much rather work with the Fright Force Police, solving mysteries inside the veil. That was a real test—and so far, I was acing it. Being head of the Private Investigator club and having two previous cases under my belt, people knew I was the go-to guy for mysteries.
Suddenly, Valeria the Vampire walked in. She was wearing a black shirt. Actually, I think it was blue. Yes, she was wearing a blue shirt that read: “Bite Me” or “Vegan Vampiress.”
Either way, she plopped down in the seat next to me.
(For the purposes of this report, I’ll tell you exactly what Valeria said, but just know she can be a bit…much.)
So, Valeria took a seat and shook her head.
“Well that’s two huge disappointments today. My favorite teacher’s not gonna show…” She glared at me. “And you’re still breathing.”
“Only because I know how much it upsets you,” I muttered.
Valeria ignored me, pulling out her phone.
“Wait.” My eyebrow perked. “Why is Ms. Bigfoot not coming?”
“Obviously she was fired.” Valeria scoffed.
“Why? She’s one of the most popular teachers in school.”
“She can’t teach anymore.” Valeria yawned, scrolling on her phone. “She’s a baby now.”
I groaned, pinching my nose bridge. “Another curse?”
“Yuuup…” Her voice lowered, excitedly texting away on her Fear Phone. “Ms. Bigfoot got baby-fied, and so did Mr. Krampus.”
“Do you—"
“No way!“ Valeria interjected, gawking at her phone screen. Eventually, she looked up with a side eye. “Oh, right, you’re still here… What’s with the questions, West? Everyone’s talking about it on Scarespace. Aren’t you getting messages? Don’t you have friends?” She paused and smirked. “Oh, wait…”
For the record, I had friends. They were mostly from the Private Investigator club. People said we were loners, but we just liked mysteries more than other people—and sometimes each other. It also didn’t help that we all competed to get the best recommendations for the Fright Force. I couldn’t blame them. The force only took one detective-in-training a year. So, most of us didn’t work together, or share any of our leads, or talk much (or even say “hi” really), but we all shared the same inquisitive spirit.
“How bad is the curse?” I asked.
“Not bad. Anyone living who touches or sees one of the babies becomes a baby.”
“How’s that not bad?!” I replied.
“The curse doesn’t affect the undead. So it’s ‘not bad’ for me…” Her voice trailed, tapping away at her screen. “Oh, and whoever has the cursed object, I guess...”
My jaw dropped. “That’s gonna spread like crazy!”
“Guess you’ve got a real problem then.” Valeria stared at her phone, waving me away. “This is all over Scarespace. Just search #baby-loc-alypse. And stop asking me questions.”
My pulse raced. “Does anyone know who caused it?”
Valeria let out a long, exasperated breath.
“Aren’t you the wannabe detective? Didn’t you already solve two mysteries?” Her eyes narrowed. “How do you not know this already? No one knows who caused it, but the two original targets were teachers who only teach sophomores, so it’s probably a…”
Valeria circled her hand in my direction.
“It’s probably a sophomore…” I finished, mouth agape.
“Look at you.” Valeria pinched my cheek with her cold, stiff fingers. “You’re so smart.”
I swatted her hand away, rubbing the fading pain. “Was it you?”
“Me?!” Valeria laughed, derisively. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a cursed object. All that glowing is bad for your skin.”
I gawked at Valeria, who turned back to her phone. Light from the device illuminated her dull gray face. She smiled, reading something as her short fangs flashed.
“Wouldn’t be caught dead,” huh?...
Valeria was dead. Or at least, undead. Her statement about “not being caught” was suspicious and something that could be used as evidence against her.
I whipped a phone out of my shorts, opened the notes app, and used the stylus to start my usual MPS list—Most Plausible Suspects. I scribbled “Valeria” and added several exclamation points. However, I realized there was a chance there might be better suspects.
I scanned the class. Most students seemed innocent enough—except for the guy across from us in the other corner. His white skull was alight with fiery hair. It flickered as his skeleton fingers tapped his desk impatiently. From my seat, I could see the crimson fire smoldering inside his eye sockets.
“It could have been Red...” I replied.
“Red?” Valeria rolled her eyes. “Red Herring?”
“I know. But hear me out,” I pleaded. “For one thing, Red’s a fire spirit. He’s always mad at someone. For two, his glow is so bright, even with the lights off, you’d never notice a cursed object on him. And for three, when I was a platypup, he pretended to be a poacher and scared me. He’s pure E-V-I-L.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’d be too obvious,” Valeria said, zoned into her phone.
Red glanced over at me, his fire eyes blazing. Flames exploded from his skull’s sockets. “Problem?!” he sneered.
“Nope.” My eyes flicked away. I clenched my stylus and scribbled “Red Herring” on my MPS list, followed by another series of exclamation points.
Part of me wanted to bet Valeria that it was him. I knew I’d almost certainly win.
“If we found out it was him at the end,” I muttered to myself. “You’d owe me a whole pizza with worm and larvae toppings.”
I paused. I’d forgotten Valeria the Vampire had heightened senses.
She froze and turned up from her phone. A devilish grin grew on her face. “And if I win?...”
“No, it was hypothetical. I wasn’t actually betting you,” I responded. “If you won, you’d want me to do something wild, like stop breathing.”
“Deal!” She clasped her hands together. “We have to solve this right now. Let’s find out who did this.”
“Wait…no, Valeria...” I pleaded.
She grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulders. “No, this is a bet now. This is happening, and I will make sure you stop breathing if I win.”
My jaw dropped as Valeria walked to the classroom door. She patted the top of my head from behind me. I turned to face her.
“Come on, West. Come on, buddy.” Valeria whistled, playfully patting her legs—as if I was some kind of dog.
Again, for the record, I am a were-platypus (and Valeria is a blood-sucking jerk).
“Wait, but Red is right there!” I scrambled. “And also, class isn’t over. So, we can’t.”
“Dear devils…” Valeria shook her head, holding open the door. “It’s not Red Herring. We will find the real culprit, then you will stop breathing. Let’s go.”
I stuttered. “Wh…what if a sub comes?! And…and cutting class isn’t something a future Fright Force detective does. I don’t want a bad recommendation.”
“The sub won’t be writing your rec,” she huffed. “And something tells me Ms. Bigfoot is less concerned about you than the poo in her diapers.”
“Fair point…” I sighed, head hung low.
We strode into the empty hallway. It was dark. Moonlight streamed through the cobweb-covered windows, gleaming onto the cobblestone floor. My nose was hit with a rancid odor—the faint scent of messy diapers.
“Waaah, Waah,” a baby’s cry echoed.
I whipped around, but only spotted rows of lockers lining the walls and posters for the varsity Boo-ball game.
I shuddered, but Valeria seemed unbothered, furiously sliding a finger across her phone. Her lips curved, and a fang flashed. She was happy. It was another thing that could be seen as suspicious given what she’s usually like. I had to find out why.
“Ok, what are you doing?”
“Texting,” Valeria hissed. “Focus on your little mystery.”
“Why do you hate me so much?”
Valeria shrugged, glancing up from her phone, as more cries echoed. “Dunno. Just something about you I don’t like. Can’t put my finger on it.”
“So, you basically dislike me for no reason?”
She looked back at her phone. “I prefer to call it a ‘sixth sense.’”
“That’s—” We rounded a corner. My nose was hit with a new odor, inhaling the telltale smell of pumpkin-scented cleaner. It could only be one person.
I glanced rightward. There was a familiar oak door: the Private Investigator clubroom. I wrenched open the door and pulled Valeria inside with me. With the bright lights on, the room looked like a small classroom. The only difference was the desks were pushed against walls, lined with suspect boards that had strings connecting pictures.
Valeria gasped. “West, you’d better hope nobody saw us come in here alone. I swear to satan, if there are rumors—"
“Shhh.” I hushed, closing the door and leering through the keyhole. In moments, a tall figure wearing a large panda costume was mopping the floor outside.
“It’s the pandan-itor!” I whispered, glaring through the keyhole. “Look at him. He’s out there mopping the floor…evilly.”
“Yeah, that’s real suspicious…” Valeria sighed. “A janitor cleaning...”
“In a panda costume? All the time?!” I whisper-yelled. “You can’t tell me he’s not hiding something.”
“He could be a swamp creature with sensitive skin. We don’t know. Also, he has zero motive.”
I tapped my chin. “What if he’s tired of cleaning up after students?”
“So he created a curse to turn everyone into babies. Babies who would be even messier than students?”
“I mean, he really doesn’t like teenagers.” I huffed. “He once sprayed me with cleaner…”
“You smelled!”
“I was in my were-form!” I shot back. “Platypuses have a distinct musk, and it’s totally natural. Besides, he probably knew and sprayed me anyway. So, he could be a suspect.”
Valeria flashed a half-lidded glare.
I sighed. “Ok, fine. What’s your big idea then?”
“I—” Valeria’s phone lit up. She looked down, grinning. “Yes!” She giggled. “Look, I don’t care anymore. I’ve got a library date now.”
“No, wait!” I pleaded. “I’ll stop breathing… I need to figure this out.”
“Don’t care,” Valeria replied, slipping the phone in her pocket. “This is going nowhere. Also, you have no real suspects. How did you even solve those other cases?”
“A..Actually, I do have a suspect...” I stuttered. “I want to speak to the casters.”
“But they’re so creepy…” Valeria whined and stomped.
“Watch it! My mom’s a caster. She is one of the witchiest witches in town and totally not creepy…most days…” I added. “Besides magic casters are the most likely suspects.”
“Wait a second…” Valeria glared at me. My pulse quickened. I looked away, trying to avoid her gaze.
“You have to speak to the casters, huh?” Valeria droned. “Why do I think there’s a certain caster you’re just dying to talk to.”
My cheeks flushed, and my heart pounded. “I…I can’t help it if she’s one of the most likely suspects. Witches cast curses someti—oh no...”
Tingles prickled my skin. Gurgles rocked my stomach. I knew what was coming. With moonlight shining through the window and me being embarrassed, I triggered the two half-blood conditions needed to transform.
Dark brown fur grew from my pores. I rushed to take off my sneakers, as my hands and toes morphed into webbed appendages. My lips extended, growing into a long orange bill.
“Pfffudge…” I cursed, through my duck-billed mouth.
“Mhmmm…I’m sure you have a great reason to talk to her.” Valeria continued, unfazed by my transformation. “Don’t be too hard on her, detective.”
I peered through the keyhole again, and noticed the Pandan-itor was gone. “Alright, leffs go.”
“Go where?” Valeria paused, suddenly distracted by the messy clubroom. “You know for a guy who spends all his time here, I’d figure you’d at least clean up.”
Valeria hit the lights. The problem was she hit two of the switches, rather than one. The bright white light flicked off, quickly replaced by a dark purple light.
“No!” I shouted.
Valeria had by accident (supposedly) flicked on the UV light our club used for forensics training. The room was completely dark, except for the ceiling’s dim purple light—and my fur, which now glowed a bright blue-green.
“Could you turn that off,” I demanded. But through my duck bill, it sounded more like: “culdju turn phat offfft!” After transforming, it always takes a bit for my normal speech to return. Talking with a hard, duck bill is tougher than you’d think.
“Wait?!” She grinned. “Platypuses glow in the dark?!”
“Under UV light, yes,” I responded, tersely. “Now, please turn the white lights back on.”
“Whatever you say, West.” Valeria laughed. She turned the purple UV light off leaving the room dark—then repeatedly flicked the UV switch on and off—turning me into some kind of living strobe light.
“Oh sweet satan,” she cackled. “This is amazing! You could rent yourself out as a ‘loser light.’”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I swatted her hand. “Stop that!” I said, flicking the white light on.
“Let’s just head to the cafeteria. I know she has lunch this period.”
“No, West, you don’t sound like a stalker at all,” Valeria quipped, answering a question no one asked. “Don’t know why you would think that.”
I sighed as we left the room.
Minutes later, we stood in the doorway of the large, square-shaped cafeteria. My gaze darted to the wide structural columns, dividing the space and rows of long cafeteria tables at the wings. Benches were dotted with few students. The sounds of laughter, shouting, and even trays slamming seemed lighter today. Were kids skipping lunch or were they babies now? I didn’t want to know.
Suddenly, I heard a familiar giggle.
I glanced left. My heart raced, staring at Helda.
She sat atop one of the tables with her feet on the long bench. Helda flicked long dark hair over her shoulder, and pointed to one of her friends seated nearby. They all wore black, like they were expecting a surprise funeral. Helda conjured an image of a dancing frog in her palm. The guy next to her laughed, as his necklace of eyeballs jostled. A girl across from him, wearing a veil and lizard foot earrings, looked at Helda’s conjuration and smiled robotically.
Valeria shuddered. Immediately, she turned away, resting her back on the nearby column, tapping at her phone screen. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop grinning.
“How do I look?” I asked, smoothing my fur.
“Aggressively average,” Valeria said, eyes glued to her phone. “Now, hurry up.”
“One of these days I’m gonna feed you a garlic sandwich…” I whispered.
“What was that?” Valeria challenged.
“Nothing…” I said, hurrying over to the casters table.
Slowly, I approached the table. My webbed hands trembled. I walked toward the group of darkly dressed casters. To hide my shakes, I leaned against their table and crossed my arms.
“So I’m trying to solve this case…with the babies…cause I… solve mysteries?” I tightened my tremoring webbed hands under my armpits. Helda giggled.
“I swear you’re one of the funniest kids in school,” she said, playfully hitting my shoulder. “I love it when you pretend to be awkward.”
“Yup, I’m great at pretending…” I let out chuckle. “Anyway…”
“Is everything ok?” Helda frowned.
My heart raced. “W…Why do you ask?”
“Well, I noticed Valeria hiding. She’s been glancing over here, watching us talk.” Helda pointed to the column, as Valeria’s eyes flicked away, back to her phone. “Are you and her…like a thing?”
“Oh devils no! Actually, it’s the opposite. She’s trying to kill me.”
Helda laughs. “You are the funniest,” she said, petting my fur. “And so smooth.”
My body froze, and I flushed. If I hadn’t already been in my were form, I would’ve platypus-ed right there.
But I needed to focus.
“So…about the uhh…mystery?” I stumbled. “You know, with the babies again. Have you heard anything?”
Helda flashed a smile. “Oh, yes. Terrible stuff. Four teachers and thirty students are babies now. Zombierella the nurse is running out of diapers.”
“I don’t think it’s possible, but…did you do it?” I asked.
Helda shook her head.
“Do you know who might’ve? Did you hear anything about—” I paused, remembering Valeria’s heightened senses. She probably heard everything we were saying. It was safer to suggest someone else. “Have you heard anything about Red?”
“It could’ve been Red, I guess.” Helda’s lips pursed. “I heard he got upset with Mr. Krampus and burned some equipment in the alchemy lab last week. I also heard he wasn’t a fan of Ms. Bigfoot either.”
“Intriguing…” I responded. “Just for closure, do you mind, if we checked you out? I mean…not me, checking you out. But like…Valeria…maybe? Not her either. We just need to see if you’re telling the truth.”
“Oh, no problem!”
I turned around, spotting Valeria behind the column.
“Pssst!” I whisper-yelled, waving her over. “Come on.”
Valeria let out an exaggerated sigh, that I could hear from across the cafeteria. She zipped over with her vampire speed.
“Hi, Val! How are you?” Helda said.
“Late,” Valeria replied, snapping her fingers in front of Helda’s face. “Now, look into my eyes.”
Helda and Valeria stared at each other for a moment. Helda’s eyes widened, as she fell into a deep trance.
“Now, is everything you told West the truth?” Valeria probed.
“No…” Helda replied. My jaw dropped.
“What was a lie?” Valeria asked.
“I don’t think Red did it. Everything else was the truth though.”
Valeria huffed, her eyes grew half-lidded.
“Red’s actually pretty nice if you speak to him,” Helda continued in a trance. “I just said I thought he did it cause that’s what everyone else says.”
“Waste. Of. Time.” Valeria said. “I—”
“Maybe we could ask her some other questions?” I interjected. “Like…try to find out if there’s somebody she likes?”
Valeria glared at me, sharply. “Goodbye, West…”
“Always a pleasure…” I muttered, as she stormed off.
After Valeria zipped away, Helda snapped out of her trance. She shook her head slightly.
“Valeria left already?” Helda said, recovering.
“Yeah. She had a library date...” I rubbed my arm and tried to change the subject. “So, who do you really think did it?”
“Not sure. It’s a powerful curse, but the contagious effect is weird. It’s unrefined, like whoever cast it wasn’t good with magic. All my friends are great casters,” Helda pointed to the two other students. “I doubt it was Cecil. He’s in line to head the Council of Witches, and Beth was scouted for the Olympian magic games.”
“And, you of course,” I added. “You’re like a straight A student in all the magic classes.”
“I try…” Helda blushed. “Oh, you know who I think it might be?...”
“Who?!” My pulse raced.
“Damien.”
“Dragon Damien? Or Demon Damien?”
“Demon,” Helda nods. “He’s a varsity Boo-ball player, but is repeating two sophomore classes to avoid getting kicked off the team. Also, demons usually aren’t great with magic, but they also tend to be immune too, so it does make sense.”
My eyes widened. I whipped out my phone, adding “Damien” to the MPS list. He was a really good candidate. “Do you know where he might be?”
“I heard he’s been spending all his time in the library.”
I gasped. Everything clicked. It’s why Valeria was so busy texting and couldn’t stop smiling. She was going to be “studying” with one of the most popular guys in school.
I thanked Helda and raced from the cafeteria, heading to the library. Cries of babies grew as I darted through the halls, hopping over loose diapers. My chest heaved. My furry legs burned, and my webbed feet hurt—but I had reached the library’s large metal doors. Panting, I pulled them open.
The entire E-shaped floor, usually bustling with students, stood mostly empty. As I entered the central intersection, I looked ahead down the middle row, noticing lines of oak tables with backpacks laying on the floor—but no owners nearby. The usually busy computer terminals had black screens, and the stacks between the three major lanes were empty. My guess? The baby-fication was spreading. Creatures who’d usually be here were babies now. I had to end this.
As I stepped forward, I spotted her. Down the middle row, yards away, was Valeria. She sat near a muscular guy with blood-colored skin and two sharp horns on his forehead. Valeria was leaning in close, listening attentively and nodding, as the demon pointed to the textbook between them. A flutter filled my chest.
I knew Damien would be here with her!
I took the backway, walking to the rightmost lane to hide my approach. Books with eyeballs in the rows of stacks watched me walk by.
“Mind your business,” I whispered to the books. As I passed more stacks, I overhead Valeria and Damien talking.
“’Friction’…’Friction’…” Damien muttered. “Oh, friction!…That’s like when the numbers are less than one, right?”
There was a beat of silence.
“Close…” Valeria replied with strained cheeriness. “I think you’re thinking of ‘fractions,’ and those can be greater than one, too…”
“Val, you’re so smart!” Damien responded. “You’re such a great friend. It’s like having a genius little sister.”
“Yup,” Valeria’s voice trailed. “Always willing to help…a friend…”
I reached the row of stacks directly behind them. Down the path, Valeria’s back leaned rightward, very close to Damien, as he tilted back in his seat at the desk. I shoved my hands into my back pockets and nonchalantly walked toward them. During my approach, I saw the varsity jacket draped over Damien’s chair. I reached into one of its pockets and pulled out a glowing pacifier.
“Aha!” I shouted.
Valeria’s eyes widened.
“I knew it was you!” I said.
Damien whipped around. “What are you talking about?”
“No…” Valeria shook her head. “It can’t be, Damien. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” I said.
“Uhh…what’s going on?” Damien asked. His eyes flicked between me and Valeria.
She leapt from her chair and pulled me into the stacks. We were sandwiched by two long lanes of bookshelves.
“West, please don’t rat him out,” Valeria whispered, pointing to Damien, who stared at us confused. “Just look at him…that jawline. Ugh. And those horns…” She smiled, shivering with delight.
“I see them.”
“He’s really not that kind of guy.”
“Sure seems like he is.”
“Look, you’ve solved these cases before. You know what happens when people get caught casting curses.”
“I do…” My lips flattened.
“When Mr. Krampus got in trouble for the ant takeover, after you found the glowing ant farm in his desk, they put him on probation—in the Pantry of Pain.”
“Mhmm,” I nodded, acknowledging my work.
“And Belinda the Banshee was sent to the Iron Maiden for the walls bleeding ice cream, after you found the glowing cone in her locker.”
“I know. I was there,” I responded, coolly.
“It’s not going to matter how much he begs. The principal won’t go easy on him. So just…I mean he’s so nice…”
“I think you mean ‘hot.’” I quipped.
She frowned. “Ok, yes. That too. Especially that. So much that. But I’m sure he didn’t mean it. It was probably an accident. Let’s just talk to him. We can find out why.”
“No! I’m going to the principal,” I said, holding the glowing pacifier away from her.
“Wait…” Valeria’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a teenager.”
“Obviously.”
“No, I mean, you’re not a baby right now, West.” Valeria corrected. “You found the cursed object, but you didn’t get turned into a baby.”
“Neither did you!” I replied. “And neither did Damien, the main suspect!”
“I’m undead. Damien’s a demon who’s immune to magic. But why are you, the living were-platypus, not affected right now, West?”
Valeria walked forward, as I stumbled back into the long row. My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say.
“You know those other mysteries you solved are real weird too…” Valeria inched forward. “You’re a terrible detective. Always throwing out the worst guesses, yet somehow you always catch a lucky break.”
“That’s not a crime!” I responded too quickly.
“You always catch a lucky break.”
My pulse raced, staring at Valeria.
“You blamed Red. You blamed the Janitor. You blamed Helda. All people with no real motives. And now Damien, who’s a junior, who did fail sophomore classes, but not the ones taught by the originally cursed teachers. And somehow, Damien just happens to have the cursed item right after you show up?”
“He’s not smart…” I trailed, taking steps backward.
“Neither are you!” Valeria shot back.
“I’m going to tell—”
She crept closer, inches away from me. I lost track of my backward movement, stumbling into one of the stacks. Books fell all over me. My heart pounded. As I regained my balance, I glanced away from her eyes.
“Stay back! I’ll scratch you with my toxic feet talons,” I warned, lifting my leg.
Valeria walked forward, unbothered.
I kicked, scraping her gray arm with my foot talon. It barely pierced the skin.
“You know that’s not fatal to humans, right?” Valeria sighed. “Also, I’m undead…”
In a flash, Valeria grabbed my arm, holding me still with her vampire strength. Her eyes widened, as her gaze pierced my sight. My body went stiff.
“West, did you start the Baby-loc-alypse?”
“Yes…” I responded. My body had betrayed me.
“Why?!” She asked, stunned. “What did Damien ever do to you?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “It was to get back at you for always treating me terribly. With your super vampire abilities though, I didn’t know if punishment would even affect you. But I figured Damien getting punished might.”
Valeria’s hypnotic gaze kept me frozen in place. “And what about Ms. Bigfoot?”
“She said she’d never write me a recommendation to the Fright Force…because she thought I had something to do with Mr. Krampus being framed for the ant takeover.”
“She was right…” Valeria stressed. “Why’d you set up Mr. Krampus?”
“Well, he gave me a B+ on that alchemy test. I deserved an A!” I admitted. “But then after the ant incident, he started to suspect that I set him up, and that I might’ve had something to do with the wall-bleeding-ice-cream curse before that, so he had to get baby-fied too.”
“Why am I both surprised, and not surprised at all?...” Valeria shook her head. “Tell me. How’d you manage the curse? You’re not a caster.”
“I took one of my mom’s spell books. I used it to cast curses on the objects. I can read witch writings…but not well enough to stop curses from becoming contagious.”
“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you…” Valeria said, dropping her mind-control gaze. I shook my head and stared at the ground.
For the purposes of this report, I will skip the part where Valeria alerted the principal. I will also gloss over when she told everyone her less-than-pleasant side of the story. And I am skipping it, not because I’m embarrassed, of course, but because it’s not interesting. Who wants to hear about that? Not me.
What’s more important is the apology. Whether or not I have grown from all of this is what truly matters.
For the record, being exposed to the horrors of the Pain Pantry while you’re writing a report about your bad behavior isn’t exactly “fun”—but it’s not why I’m sorry. I am apologizing because in my last two terrifying days here, I have truly seen the error of my ways.
I would like the record to reflect that I am sorry people were upset about getting turned into babies. I am also very sorry that no one tried to stop me when ants took over the school. Lastly, I’m sorry everyone hated that mint-chocolate chip ice cream bled from the walls. In hindsight, rocky road was the better option.
However, I’d appreciate it if these incidents weren’t reported to the Fright Force detectives, because I will become one of them some day, and it might make things awkward between me and my future co-workers. You won’t regret not sharing this report with them. When I get out of detention, I am going straight. I will live my life in a clean way—solving mysteries like a normal detective.
No more curses.
Probably.
Well, definitely no more curses for the next month.
And I’m almost certain about that.
----------------------------------------------------
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The Baby Blight — A Halloween High Mystery © 2025 Lyle Stiles