A Haunting Lesson In Regression

[FatherFish]

Claire sighed as she pulled into the abandoned school parking lot. It had looked much worse than how she last left it. She wasn’t even planning to come tonight, despite making promises all those years ago. She was perfectly content enjoying a quiet night in her apartment. Reading a book or catching up on paperwork, forgetting all about the relics of her past. It would have stayed that way, if not for one last-minute phone call.

“Thanks for the lift.” Dana said, in that soft and earnest voice of hers. She paused for a moment, as if waiting for Claire to say something. “Can you pick me up in, say, two hours? Or, um, if you can, that is. Sorry, I should have asked you that earlier. I can ask April or Brie to do it, if you’re busy. I don’t think they’d leave me here…” Dana trailed off, sounding unsure of her assessment. She was still seated firmly in the car, her seatbelt still buckled. From the way her knees knocked, to the way she tugged and stroked her hair, it was clear that Dana was nervous to go in alone. “Um. You said you were going back home, yes? Are you going to at least say hi? I mean, if you want to leave now, I get it. Brie can get so restless, I understand. But April would probably miss seeing you again. I wouldn’t want to start off their night with a disappointment.”

“I’m coming.” Claire said begrudgingly, not even noting Dana’s quiet excitement. She sighed under her breath; confident she was making a huge mistake. She stepped out of the car, and Dana was quick to rush to her side. Morbid curiosity, mixed with Dana’s pitiful pleading, had won the battle. Still, Claire did not plan on staying long. She was only staying for a quick pop-in. Then, well, she wasn’t sure. As long as she didn’t waste the night stuck in a classroom, back in school, when she wasn’t even being paid to do so.

Everything was planned and laid out, just like they all discussed beforehand. The back doors, leading to the gym, were propped open. There was a note to the side that read: “Come to 203B” on it. The two women followed the instructions with ease, one party still holding her doubts. They made their way through the abandoned school, Dana jumping at every odd sound. They climbed up the stairwell, turning a corner to see their former co-workers sitting and waiting expectantly.

“Well, aren’t you two a cute couple.” Brie sneered, downing a shot from her flask. “I thought you two would be too chickenshit to come out tonight.” Brie chuckled at her own line, not even noticing Dana’s disgusted recoil, or Claire’s stern scowl.

“Brie, please. Can you at least try to be a total jackass for once?” April waved off Brie, a tired look plain on her face. “It’s good to see you guys. Have a seat, I already have everything set up.” She gestured to the pair to sit at the center of the classroom. With the chalk in her hand, April had been just finished writing…something, on the wooden floor, surrounded by candlelight. April mused to herself as her former colleagues took a seat in the circle. “I’ll admit, it isn’t a very scientifically sound idea. It’s pseudo-science, really. But, I had to give it a try.” April stared down at her chalk drawing, feeling satisfied with herself. “That should work. Now then, do you two remember the rumors about the woman who used to work here?” April posed the question offhandedly, but there was a mutual look of confusion shared by Claire and Dana.

“Oh, oh! This shit is classic! Ok, so, check this out. There was chick this who used to work here—way before any of us, right? I think it happened in the 70s? Anyway, she was pregnant, and she was really hyped to tell everyone, yeah? Co-workers, family, her students. She couldn’t stop talking about it. Well then, anyway, she um,” Brie slowed, mulling over her words. The enthusiasm was visibly draining from her face, replaced by an almost ashamed expression.

“The important thing is that she disappeared suddenly.” April cut in. “But what I do remember, are all the stories you would hear about her haunting the school in some way.” April tapped on the wooden floors, “Her old office used to be right here. Before they changed it to a home economics room.  No one talks about it much now. It was a much more active rumor when the school was still open. “I believe they even wrote a novel about it. Something you’ve read, Claire?

“It was a short story,” She clarified. “And it was only a surface level parallel at best.” Claire thought to herself about specifics, like a title or an author. She struggled to think clearly on the subject. The atmosphere of the room had changed, and it felt like they were all huddled around an Ouija board, like a group of teenage girls with a weekend night to waste. There were no doubt hundreds of DIY guides posted online for summoning the dead. Was that what April’s chalk drawing was for?

“April, why are we doing this?” Dana chirped up bashfully, all eyes suddenly drawn to her. “Rumor or not, this feels disrespectful. It sounds to me like this woman went through a good deal of pain near the end of her life. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Brie was about to take another drink from her flask of wine. But, after hearing Dana’s piece, she stuck out her tongue and screwed the cap back on. “Shit, she’s right. Okay, I’m ready to go back home. Night’s over.” Brie slurred, picking herself back up. “Claire, minding giving me a lift home?”

Claire nodded, then shot a scowl at April. “Honestly, I can’t believe you. Not only do you owe all of us an apology, but you also owe one to the dead as well.”

April winced, looking rather hurt now. “I…I just wanted us to do something fun together again. We always talked about doing stuff like this in old days…I’m sorry. If no one wants to do this, we can go home.” The party had stopped before it even began. Everyone was ready to leave, the mood truly dead.

Then the door slammed shut.

Lights flickered on and off at rapids speed, despite the building having no power for years. The windows swung hard open, wind and leaves jetting into the room. Dana was already on the ground, shrieking like a banshee. The candles had all blown out, as had the overhead lightbulbs, leaving the party in an inky darkness. Prevailing through all the sounds of chaos, was an unending streak of overjoyed laughter. All the women heard it clear as day, but none recognized the owner. Before they could be struck down by a lightning bolt of realization, all the sounds then silenced once more. The classroom was returned to its quiet once more, and all those present had been dismissed. Dismissed, but not set free.

The school had shut down, but class had just begun.

***

April was still reeling from the shock of it all. She was reeling, emotionally, from a lot of things. But one feeling stood out. Regret? She had never been the type of person to second guess herself. Then again, she was not the type of person to break into schools at night or summon spirits from the great beyond. Ergo, perhaps April did not know herself as well as she thought. But her thoughts were still shambling, and her heart had just stopped pounding. She tried to refocus, firstly on her surroundings. Even amiss the darkness, she recognized her old classroom easily. She was alone. Alone? She didn’t like the sound of that. Not because she hated the feeling. Because she also knew it wasn’t true. April stopped, and she waited. Eventually, her company decided to make her presence known.

“Good evening, everyone!” A feminine disembodied voice echoed in the night. “Who’s ready for another wonderful day of learning!?”

 “You’re her,” April muttered, a shuttering revelation. “You…you really are her.”

“That’s right, pudding.” The ghost replied innocently, “I’m your teacher for today! We are going to have so much fun together!”

April did not know why she expected straight talk from a spirit. “Listen, um.” April felt awkward talking to the empty air, “I’m sorry for disturbing your rest. This is all my fault.” A guilt filled admittance. Unfortunately, the ghost was not the one who needed to hear it.

The ghost laughed in response. It was quite a hardy laugh coming from the undead. “Nonsense. I have a job to do, and that’s teaching all my kiddies a very special lesson. Class in starting soon, so do have a seat.”

That did not sound good. The ghost was already on track for something. “Um, what lesson did you have planed today?” April wasn’t sure why she was asking. It wouldn’t serve to diffuse the situation.

“I am so glad you asked, pudding. Today’s lesson is on sharing! My plush friends are trying to enjoy their tea party. I want you to help them out and make everybody gets a fair share. Can you handle that?” She asked, plainly sounding unsure of April.

Multiple plush toys were strewn about the room, looking in desperate need of guidance. The pink round table, low to the ground, had a seat for everyone. Sociology was April’s forte, but this was plain demeaning.  For the spirit from the beyond, this seemed tame. She decided it best to play along for now, and bide her time…

April sighed, feeling her work complete. At least nothing paranormal had provoked her during the assignment. She adjusted the tiara that rested on her ginger sausage curls. She patted down her pink princess dress, making sure it didn’t wrinkle. Her pull-up rustled as she sat down for the tea party. She had never dealt with such an upstart group of dollies. All the complaints and whines about he sat where, from their flat unemotional faces, had started to wear down on her. Thankfully the worst was over now. The teacher had excused herself, phasing away deeper in the school, to check on her other students.

April only hoped the others would fair well. They were all so much less mature than her.

 

***

Brie was not scared. Correction. Brie could not be scared. Being scared implies being afraid. Being afraid implies a possible weakness. A chink in her armor. A heel for life to strike an arrow through. But Brie was better than Achilles, she would not be struck down in her prime. One look at her physique showed a true statuesque marvel for the Greeks to gawk at. She wasn’t going to let it go to waste stuck in a school.

So, when she found herself locked inside the school gym, with no one around to hear her desperately banging on the exits? She was not scared, couldn’t be. Brie would say that she was panicked, or frustrated, but definitely not scared. Brie had sobered up quickly, her senses sharply returning.

Then an unfamiliar presence entered the scene, chuckling at Brie’s desperate struggle. “My, my. Someone has a lot of pent-up energy.” The voice mused, practically challenging her “If this attitude problem keeps up, I’m going to have to give you a time out.”

Brie was not much of a skeptic. She took to the idea of a haunted school like a duck to water. So, when a mysterious disembodied voice started to taunt her, a paranormal culprit made the most sense. Still, Brie could not be scared. It simply wasn’t part of her M.O. “Open the door! You had better let me out of here right now!” She snarled, gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists. She hoped the intimidation would work on the ghost, even though her body was shaking.

The ghost tsk tsked, sounding disappointed in Brie’s lack of restraint. “Now, now. There is no need to throw a hissy fit. Why don’t we play a game? We can get, you some exercise, so you will be all nice and tuckered out for your nap.”

Brie could only stand back in stunned silence as she watched the gymnasium transform in an instant. The place had become a playroom, fit for a daycare center. Toys were littered across the floor space. The room was carpeted by a plush jigsaw map, in a rainbow of colors. It was an infantile mess, and she wanted no part in it.

“Perfect! Go on now, sweetie, go and play. Go on!”

Brie felt an invisible force—a hand? Something, quick and sharp, patted her on the rear, causing her to fumble forward. The shock sent her tumbling, and she landed face force on the ground. She laid for longer than she would have liked. However, when she looked back at herself, she liked what she had seen even less.

She gone through a full uniform change, one which perfectly meshed with the playroom before her. Her top was a pastel yellow, featuring the image of a cartoon lioness. It barely reached over her chest, marking a rare instance where Brie did not want her midriff exposed. Her sneakers were an unappealing wash of colors, white, orange and purple, with lights on the heels that flashed weakly. The short, purple and pastel, were unflattering and upsetting. But what was taped underneath was much worse. The white waistband peeking out. The bulk that left her bowlegged. She gagged at the name of it. Brie shuttered, her face adopting a red haze of anger and embarrassment and f—not fear. Get your head in the game, Brie. “H-hey! No fair!” Brie yelled projecting an air of fussiness instead of ferocity. “Give me back my clothes right now!”

“I don’t think so, sweetie. It’s playtime, and these clothes are much more appropriate for you now. But I’ll tell you. If can make to all the way across the playroom before the buzzer goes off, I’ll give you another chance at being a big girl again. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?” The ghost chuckled, setting the deal in motion. The gym’s clock sprang to life, displaying a countdown of ten minutes.

Brie hadn’t started moving and was already working up a sweat. She had no time to reject the offer, or even second guess the details. The ghost had issued a fitness test, and Brie had no choice but to pass it. She pushed herself up and to her feet, her stance unsteady. The sneakers flashed to congratulate the effort, as she stood up with an awkward gate. The bulky padding forced legs apart, and Brie could already tell his would cut in her run time. She briefly considered crawling, before immediately snubbing the idea like a growing spark. She was fired up now, determined to reclaim her big girl status.

Brie made a (relatively speaking) steady toddled forward. She kept the timer out of her mind and tried to focus on making a beeline to the other side of the gym. The trek was proving to be slow and demanding. Proper technique had escaped her, every step now a struggle not to fall back on her cushioned backside. Still, she was making strides, nonetheless. She was waddling on a fast-track back to adulthood.

And that would have remained the case if Brie hadn’t noticed a bright red ball directly in her path. It attracted Brie’s gaze like a moth to a flame. She let out an “ooh” and “ahh” as the ball rolled by her feet, begging to be played with. She knew she had more pressing matters to attend, her victory mere footsteps away. But she just couldn’t help herself. Besides, she was already ahead. How much time could a ball waste anyway?

Her decision rationalized, Brie plopped down and gave the ball her best bounce. It hit the ground with a satisfying pang, getting some serious airtime as well! Bounce. Bounce! Another big bounce! Hey, this place had loads of neat stuff! And there were plenty more toys over the horizon. Why did she even want to leave anyway?

*BZZZZZT*

“Wah!” Brie cried as the loud siren blared reverbed off the walls. That was scary! It made her jump, ruining her playtime for no good reason at all. Brie had never felt so scared before, and she was left in a teary-eyed mess. The shock had been so bad that Brie had had an accident, her face and crotch now both growing wet. Tears streamed down her terrified face, while her thirsty padding soaked the sudden torrent of urine.

“There, there,” cooed a familiar, comforting voice. “It’s okay. No more scary, big girl thought. Let me take care of everything.”

Brie, allowing herself to be cradled into a loving embrace, felt all the fear and worry melt away. She didn’t have to think about what came next. She didn’t have to try so hard to be a brave girl anymore. What a relief. What an unimaginable relief.

“That’s right. Good baby. I know just what you need.” The ghost soothed, nuzzling the sniffling girl’s hair. “That’s right. A nice nap, and fresh diaper. The perfect treat for my soggy little superstar.

***

Dana blinked one second and was gone the next. The room she was sitting in was not the abandoned classroom room from before. One moment, she was leaning on Claire’s arm, listening to Brie and April prattle with their crazy ghost story. Then, everything went south, and she had popped into a new setting completely alone. However, she realized soon the ‘new’ was not the operative word. She was sitting in her old art classroom. Despite the darkness, she was able to recognize it as clearly as day. It was somewhat comforting, regardless of the strange circumstances.

“Hello!?” Dana yelled out, her voice shaky. “Claire! April! This isn’t funny guys!” As impossible as it sounded, the idea of it all being a prank was the option she gunned for. Because it was the option she was most used to, most accustomed to dealing with. Because if she let her mind wander, she may come to answer much less grounded, and much more terrifying. And then she would have to admit that April and Brie’s stupid story were true and that she was stuck here in a haunted school and that she was sacred of ghost and that—

The lights flickered to life, which was enough to make Dana shriek and run to the door. She twisted and turned the knob, but it just wouldn’t budge. She would have struggled for longer, but a chill ran down her spine, causing her to freeze up.

“No need to panic, dearie.” A soft, feminine voice called out in a sweet lull. “Why don’t you take a seat? Class is in session.”

Dana turned around on a dime, looking all around. She could not see anyone behind her. And yet, Dana was certain she was not alone in the classroom. “W-who…Who are you?” For voice had more cracks than a city sidewalk, and her resolve was just as rocky.

The voice only laughed, its owner still unseen. “Why, I’m your teacher, dearie! Who else would I be? There is no need to be shy. I already know that art is your favorite subject.”

Dana gulped. If this mystery spirit was trying to sound more inviting, then it wasn’t working. Still, her options were constrained, like the breath in her lungs. The spirit had left her in one piece so far, which was a small comfort. With a locked door to her back, Dana walked back to the center of the classroom on uneasy feet.

“There we are. Now, guess what today’s lesson is?” The ghost clapped her invisible hands, materializing paints buckets, and blank canvases. “Finger paints! Doesn’t that sound lovely? Go on, no need to be shy.”

Dana swallowed hard. She was now certain that the answer to her question was in the realm of paranormal. The ghost stories hadn’t mentioned anything like this. The paints looked nothing out of the ordinary, based on her years as an artist. Dana was confident that the red was not the blood of innocent, or the blue was not the tears of the damned. Dana sat down, facing the buckets of paints and blank canvas. There were no tools for her to use. No brushes, no easels. Only the fingers on her two hands. She didn’t even have a smock to cover herself with.

Dana groaned, seeing no other choice. She dipped her hand to the watery goop, covering her arm in red paint. Her hindsight was 20/20 when she realized that shoving in her palm or fingertips would have suffice. She splashed a hand onto the plank canvas, not even sure what she was meant to be doing. Maybe write a message for help? It wasn’t like there was anyone around to read it. Other than the ghost who was currently holding her captive. Normally, Dana would give her students guidelines on what to paint. The current circumstances were very different, however.

“Time’s up!” The spirit chimed in gleefully. “Alright class, show me what you’ve made.”

Dana gulped. She hadn’t “made” anything, besides a few absent-minded splatters on her canvas. There was no sense of vision or style to be seen from her work. If any of her former students saw her now, they would no doubt be sorely disappointed.

“Your turn, Dana! Don’t you want to show me what you’ve made?”

Dana still couldn’t see the ghost, but she could feel her close by. It was like she was hawking over Dana’s shoulder, judging from a side-eye view. “It…it isn’t much. Sorry.” Dana mumbled, holding up her canvas to the ether.

“I think it’s perfect! You did your best, after all. That’s more an enough to make me proud!”

Praise? For such a half-baked attempt at artwork? Dana didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t critiqued or berated?  It felt…good. The ghost whispered sweet praises into her ear, affectionately numbing her brain with the sweetest serenade. Why try to resist. It felt so, so good to be adored.

“Okay class! How about we go for another round of finger paint? Be sure to let loose, and really have fun this time!”

Dana was happy to comply. She was already diving her other hand into the bucket of paint, brainstorming her next masterpiece. She was so happy, in fact, Dana did not notice the changes happening around her. Dana didn’t notice that her hair, which she spent an hour getting perfect for tonight, had been tied into short pigtails. She was too busy splashing green with orange and purple and whatever felt right at the moment. Dana hadn’t noticed her long flowy sundress had morphed and shortened itself into a bright yellow top, which only reached her midriff. It was for the best, really. Cleanup would be much easier now, with Dana only needing a bath. Dana failed to notice her panties expanded; the black soft silk replaced with white crinkly plastic. They just meant the nothing would stop her from fingerpaints. Not even potty breaks! Dana giggled excitedly, happily painting with all the colors she was swiftly forgetting the names of.

Dana’s work was a true abstract marvel. The color choice would seem random to most anyone, especially compared to her past works. She took many creative risks, mix together clashing combos of colors. What the image was supposed to be, was all answer be great interpretation. The painting, in short, was an absolute mess. But, for a baby, it was almost impressive? Impressive enough for Dana and her teacher to be satisfied.

It looks, for a moment, like the baby artist had struck with a bolt of creativity. She furrowed her brow, sweating with concentration. With a breath “Baah”, Dana had finished unloading any artistic input she had left. The evidence?

Her thick diaper was now droopy and sagging, and she didn’t mind one bit. Dana has finished dropping a load of sudden inspiration, the backside of her diaper now painted a mushy brown. For a baby, it was unnoteworthy. But it was enough to leave the teacher satisfied, as she laid back the artist for a change.

“My precious poopy Picasso.” The spirit cooed, happy to have an exceptional artist in her class.

***

Claire cradled her head, feeling a pain begin to grow. Given tonight’s events, a stress headache was the obvious answer. Tonight was supposed to be simple and unnoteworthy. Even simpler, consider the fact that her plans of visiting were changing at the last minute. It would have been so issue, if she hadn’t second guessed her decision. But she had, and now she stuck. Stuck in her old classroom, back at school. Only, there would be no bell to save her this time.

“Hello, class! I’m so glad you are here with us today!” The bubbly disembodied voice said, sounding earnest. “Who’s ready for story time!?”

Claire was feeling contemplate, and the mysterious voice did not change that. She reasoned that a ghost haunting the school was a believable culprit. There was no other logic to explain how she had been warped to a completely different classroom, on a completely different floor, halfway across the building. The horror stories she had read in the past made it easier to accept this conclusion. Claire could have just never imagined herself in the same seats as those other poor protagonists. “Umm, if it’s all the same to you? I would very much prefer to leave now.” Claire paused, then added, “That is, may I please be excused?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Claire could practically feel the unseen voice shaking her head with each word. “That simply will not do, dearie. You’ve already missed plenty of school as is. But I’ll tell you this. You get to be our first reader for today!”

Claire gulped as a story book materialized in front of her desk. She already didn’t like having to sit from the student’s position. Furthermore, the cardboard cover did not convey any air of fine literature. Claire had no clue what card to play. None of the heroes in any of her stories saw any success in dealing with the supernatural. Her current outline only showed failure in her future. Still, the time of death, for her hopes, was unknown. It was best to play along, try to bide her time.

The passage she read was quite a mind-numbing one.

It prevailed the story of a young woman who had found herself locking in a house. This house, like many others in the world of fiction, was haunted. Namely, by a female ghost, who wanted nothing more than to add new, younger addition to her family. Much younger, wanting to start from the beginning and move on when they were ready. Now, the ghost had managed to get the upper hand of the young lady many times, leaving her feeling smaller after each little defeat. The hair, long and auburn, just like Claire, had been the first victim. Tied into a ponytail with a big green ribbon. Her gown, which Claire had her own copy of, had been morphed into a Shortall dress. It was especially tragic to see girl’s underwear become lost, replaced with a diaper of unflattering thickness. The picture of the girl was crystal clear, but the ghost was never drawn on the pages. Yet, the struggles went on and on…

Indeed, quite mind-numbing.

Claire paused. The pace was already slowing down steadily, but now she wasn’t even reading anymore. It was like the letters weren’t even letters anymore. What were letters? Should she know? What did she know? What did she not know? Enough to fill a book, at least.

The teacher saw this, couldn’t help but announce it. “Aww, what’s the matter, sweetheart. Is this part too hard for you? Come on, you are right at the end!” Her tone was indescribable. She bordered on sweet, plotting, and carefree, all at once.

Drool dripped onto the pages. Claire’s mind was fading. Mind? She did not mind. Details faded like the wetness indicators on a soaked diaper. Claire tried to refocus, tried to push the squishy, clammy sensation to the back of her mind. When they had failed, she opted for a suckling of her thumb, in hopes it would put her idle thoughts to rest. Claire tugged on her ponytail anxiously.  The ending was right within her grasps. Yet, she could feel it slipping away from her. Claire could feel something else slipping as well. Her mind was falling deeply through a rabbit. Her thoughts were lost in a wonderland of random sensations.

“Aw, is this story too advanced for you? Would you like for me to tell you how it ends?” Said the spiritual teacher with a Cheshire grin. She slipped the book away, and began to nuzzle closer Claire, talking much slower for her sake.

In the end, the ghosts had gotten what they wanted. But the heroine would not be alone. The ghosts had already prepared three beautiful sisters for her, so she would never be alone. April was quite mature for her age and would be happy to invite her sisters to any of her many tea parties. Brie was a bubbly little star, always darting from one side of the playroom to the next. Dana was an abstract artist in the making, even if she didn’t know the names of all her colors. The girl in the story—Claire was her name—would fit right in, nibbling on books in her spare time.

“Quite the happy ending, don’t you think?”

***

When daybreak came, the old school building was as abandoned as countless nights before. If the owners of the cars parked outside were still around, there was no evidence of their existence. Some time later, the school was torn down, and a daycare center was built in its place. There was a rumor that haunted that school. About a woman who had worked there, and the child she had lost. But just as the school itself had been destroyed, the rumors surrounding it had also been dismissed. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe the rumors were never worth much to begin with. Maybe the ghost simply didn’t need to haunt that town anymore.

And why would she need to? She had four beautiful baby girls to take care of now. And nothing would ever disturb that.

[YourFNF]

Whelp I'm going to tentatively classify this anomaly as self neutralized.

4 civilians missing presumed casualties?

Feel bad for these young ladies that's for sure.

Still as far as encounters with Paracausal entities go there are far... far worse fates.