Part 4: Seeking for solution
Hello everyone! It's Hades here. Remember what I told wewe at the end of the last part? I told wewe that I must attempt to find a cure for my perilous powers, right? Well, today I tried to do just that, with the help of one specific person here in Monster High. I bet wewe want to hear all about it, so let's get into it.
I was walking through the halls of Monster High, Toralei's words still echoing in my head. Those words gave me just enough motivation and attitude to continue my tafuta for the cure, even though I had abandoned all hope years ago. However, even though I was now zaidi eager to find the cure than before, I knew I was going to need help, and that is why I was trying to locate Frankie for.
I wandered around the school until I finally found Frankie sitting on a bench right inayofuata to a drinking fountain. I sat down beside her and asked: "Are wewe busy?". "Not really. Why?" Frankie replied swiftly, but curiously. "There is someone I want wewe to introduce me to," I alisema determinedly. "Okay. Who is it?" Frankie asked. "Ghoulia Yelps," I replied briefly and turned to Frankie. She nodded to me and promised to help.
We made our way into Ghoulia's lab and knocked on the door. After a short moment, she opened it and let us inside. I explained where I needed Ghoulia for and she listened to me very carefully. As soon as I finished, she immediately began uandishi some notes and theorems to her notebook.
After a while, Ghoulia turned to me and said: "Okay, so here's what I think Hades. wewe see, I believe that the chanzo of your powers is somewhere in your DNA,". "Go on," I alisema impatiently. "If we could somehow examine your DNA and possibly even isolate the factor that causes your powers, I believe we could be able to cure you," Ghoulia alisema and looked at me questioningly. "Let's do it. We've got nothing to lose," I alisema and shrugged my shoulders. "Exactly," Ghoulia agreed and continued: "So, to begin our research, we need that DNA-sample. Can wewe get it for me?". "Sure," I replied, ripped a few hairs out of my head and gave them to Ghoulia. "Perfect. The inayofuata thing to do here is to run some experiments. It might take a while, so if wewe want to, wewe can leave the lab and return later," Ghoulia alisema and turned to her computer. "Thanks, but I'll stay here," I alisema and sat down. Frankie took a quick look at her watch and said: "I'd like to stay, but I really need to go. Can wewe two manage without me?". "Of course. No problem, Frankie," Ghoulia replied and smiled. Frankie smiled back and left the lab. I observed Ghoulia as she began experimenting with my DNA. She looked so vivid and joyful. However, that wasn't always the case.
Yep, time for another origin story. In my opinion, this one is even zaidi dramatic than Spectra's. So where should I start?
When Ghoulia was still alive, she was pretty lonely and quiet girl. She had her own personal interests, which were poetry and art, but not a single friend. It didn't really bother her, as she was used to being alone, perhaps due to her big sister, who only got straight A's in school and was always the one to receive the attention and admiration in the family. Don't get me wrong, Ghoulia also did pretty well in school, but her grades weren't nearly as good as her sister's, who always had the juu scores in everything. Anyway, none of this bothered Ghoulia, as she spent most of her time alone concentrating on her interests. Usually she got to be in peace without no one minding her, but as always, lonely people are often bullied. Ghoulia also received her fair share of the bullying, but it was mostly just something minor and harmless like calling names. But then, everything changed.
It was late at night and Ghoulia was returning nyumbani from library, where she had been studying literature earlier. As she was walking down the road, she heard a familiar voice behind her. A group of four girls from her school approached her. "Hey, look what we have here," one of the girls said, pointing at Ghoulia. "Our very own little nerd," she continued and grabbed Ghoulia's bag. Ghoulia tried to take it back, but the other girls pushed her to the ground and started kicking dirt on her. "Oh, poems. How sweet," the previously mentioned girl alisema sarcastically as she began emptying Ghoulia's bag and tearing her vitabu apart. Ghoulia tried to get up and stop her, but she couldn't. The girls surrounding Ghoulia spat on her and laughed.
Eventually, after five to ten minutes, the girls decided to stop. "Get a life wewe pathetic loser!" One of the girls alisema and threw Ghoulia's empty bag to the ground. Then the group just walked away, laughing at Ghoulia, who was still laying on the ground and crying. After a while, she got up, gathered her stuff and then went home, holding back her tears the entire time.
As Ghoulia went home, her family was celebrating yet another remarkable grade her sister had got. Ghoulia wanted to tell her family what had happened, but she didn't want to ruin the moment, so she decided to be quiet. I don't know why she did that. Maybe she felt like she was a dissappointment compared to her sister and that her parents wouldn't even care. au maybe she was too ashamed to tell anyone. To be honest, Ghoulia never had anyone to share her thoughts with and that's probably why she was so bad at expressing her feelings. Anyway, she decided to forget the whole thing and not to think about it anymore. But that only made things worse.
Weeks passed on. Even though Ghoulia had decided to continue her life as if nothing had happened, it was impossible for her. She stopped going to the maktaba so often anymore and quit kusoma vitabu about poetry and art. She also began dressing differently. Her colourful and beautiful clothes changed into a grey, boring layout. As if all that wasn't enough already, her grades also began dropping, which made the gap between her and her big sister even zaidi clear. But it wasn't Ghoulia's fault. All she had loved and cared about had been deprived from her and made fun of. Still, even after all this, Ghoulia somehow managed to survive. Then something drastic happened.
One afternoon, when Ghoulia was returning nyumbani from school, she encountered the same group of girls who had attacked her before. She tried to avoid the girls, but as soon as the group leader noticed Ghoulia, the girls started surroundind her. "Well, look who's here. Our own little nerd. Where have wewe been? I haven't seen wewe at the maktaba lately," the group leader alisema with a mean voice and pushed Ghoulia to the ground. "Don't tell me you've actually quit your nerd stuff, loser. It's not like wewe could change your miserable life. Must be hard when no one loves you," the group leader continued and started kicking Ghoulia. The other girls soon joined in and started hitting and kicking Ghoulia as well.
This went on for ten minutes, just like the last time. When the girls finally stopped and left, Ghoulia was severely injured. She was bleeding and had bruises all over her body. She might have even had few broken bones. However, this was nothing compared to the emotional damage Ghoulia had received. She was crying heavily and felt great agony and grievery inside her. Ghoulia slowly stood up and then went home.
When Ghoulia arrived to her house, there was no one there. Things couldn't have been zaidi worse. Now that she really needed someone, they were all gone. Ghoulia thought about calling her mother and speaking with her, but decided not to call anyway. She also considered calling her father, but didn't. Ghoulia felt like her parents had never been interested in her before, so why would they start now. All their attention went to Ghoulia's perfect sister, who was better than Ghoulia in every way. Ghoulia felt herself helpless and useless piece of garbage, who was nothing zaidi than a burden to her family. She was at her breaking point and just couldn't handle her bad feelings anymore. Ghoulia still heard the words of that evil girl in her head. "Must be hard when no one loves you," was all that she kept hearing. With no one to lean on, Ghoulia made a fatal decision. She went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed one of the bottles inside. With tears flowing from her eyes, Ghoulia opened the bottle and took an overdose. After that, all went dark and she collapsed to the floor.
Ghoulia's family found her few hours later and she was rushed into a hospital. Ghoulia was in a deep coma and no one was sure whether au not she would wake up anymore. These news were shattering to Ghoulia's family, for even though Ghoulia had thought otherwise, they loved her very much. Ghoulia's parents never even once left her room when she was in the hospital and her sister visited her every siku after school.
For eight days Ghoulia managed to survive, but then, on the ninth day, I arrived. Yes, I arrived alone, without my father, for this was my first kill alone. It sure wasn't a car accident, but it still felt horrible for me. Ghoulia's family had gone through a lot and they seemed really exhausted and tired, but were still hoping for Ghoulia to wake up. She looked so calm and beautiful while laying on her bed. I wanted to give her zaidi time, but I couldn't. I approached Ghoulia's kitanda and swiftly touched her to the forehead. She was now gone. As the moyo rate monitor showed straight line, Ghoulia's family, who had been sitting beside her kitanda this entire time, bursted into tears. They hugged Ghoulia and then each other. Their awful ordeal had finally ended, although not in the way they had hoped.
If only Ghoulia's parents could see her now. She has definitely changed a lot. She is zaidi social and outgoing now, has a large group of Marafiki and performs fangtasticly in school. Still, all this could have been avoided, if Ghoulia had known better how to express her feelings. Maybe it was a sick twist of fate that she was reincarnated as a zombie, who are known to be a little hard to understand. I myself, understand all languages, because I'm the son of Death, but I see why zombie language frustrates so many. It isn't the easiest language out there, for sure.
Okay, so now wewe know the origin of Ghoulia, but let's get back to the "main story" now, shall we?
Ghoulia had been experimenting in the lab for almost four hours when she finally turned to me and said: "I'm sorry Hades, but there's nothing I can do,". "What do wewe mean?" I responded. "I ran all the possible experiments that I could with your DNA, but I got no results at all. It seems that wewe can't be cured Hades. I'm so sorry," Ghoulia explained apologetically. "It's okay, Ghoulia. At least we tried. Thank wewe for everything," I said, a bit dissapointed. Ghoulia began cleaning the lab as I walked outside. I felt myself defeated. But there was still something I hadn't tried yet. Something that would change my entire life.
Hello everyone! It's Hades here. Remember what I told wewe at the end of the last part? I told wewe that I must attempt to find a cure for my perilous powers, right? Well, today I tried to do just that, with the help of one specific person here in Monster High. I bet wewe want to hear all about it, so let's get into it.
I was walking through the halls of Monster High, Toralei's words still echoing in my head. Those words gave me just enough motivation and attitude to continue my tafuta for the cure, even though I had abandoned all hope years ago. However, even though I was now zaidi eager to find the cure than before, I knew I was going to need help, and that is why I was trying to locate Frankie for.
I wandered around the school until I finally found Frankie sitting on a bench right inayofuata to a drinking fountain. I sat down beside her and asked: "Are wewe busy?". "Not really. Why?" Frankie replied swiftly, but curiously. "There is someone I want wewe to introduce me to," I alisema determinedly. "Okay. Who is it?" Frankie asked. "Ghoulia Yelps," I replied briefly and turned to Frankie. She nodded to me and promised to help.
We made our way into Ghoulia's lab and knocked on the door. After a short moment, she opened it and let us inside. I explained where I needed Ghoulia for and she listened to me very carefully. As soon as I finished, she immediately began uandishi some notes and theorems to her notebook.
After a while, Ghoulia turned to me and said: "Okay, so here's what I think Hades. wewe see, I believe that the chanzo of your powers is somewhere in your DNA,". "Go on," I alisema impatiently. "If we could somehow examine your DNA and possibly even isolate the factor that causes your powers, I believe we could be able to cure you," Ghoulia alisema and looked at me questioningly. "Let's do it. We've got nothing to lose," I alisema and shrugged my shoulders. "Exactly," Ghoulia agreed and continued: "So, to begin our research, we need that DNA-sample. Can wewe get it for me?". "Sure," I replied, ripped a few hairs out of my head and gave them to Ghoulia. "Perfect. The inayofuata thing to do here is to run some experiments. It might take a while, so if wewe want to, wewe can leave the lab and return later," Ghoulia alisema and turned to her computer. "Thanks, but I'll stay here," I alisema and sat down. Frankie took a quick look at her watch and said: "I'd like to stay, but I really need to go. Can wewe two manage without me?". "Of course. No problem, Frankie," Ghoulia replied and smiled. Frankie smiled back and left the lab. I observed Ghoulia as she began experimenting with my DNA. She looked so vivid and joyful. However, that wasn't always the case.
Yep, time for another origin story. In my opinion, this one is even zaidi dramatic than Spectra's. So where should I start?
When Ghoulia was still alive, she was pretty lonely and quiet girl. She had her own personal interests, which were poetry and art, but not a single friend. It didn't really bother her, as she was used to being alone, perhaps due to her big sister, who only got straight A's in school and was always the one to receive the attention and admiration in the family. Don't get me wrong, Ghoulia also did pretty well in school, but her grades weren't nearly as good as her sister's, who always had the juu scores in everything. Anyway, none of this bothered Ghoulia, as she spent most of her time alone concentrating on her interests. Usually she got to be in peace without no one minding her, but as always, lonely people are often bullied. Ghoulia also received her fair share of the bullying, but it was mostly just something minor and harmless like calling names. But then, everything changed.
It was late at night and Ghoulia was returning nyumbani from library, where she had been studying literature earlier. As she was walking down the road, she heard a familiar voice behind her. A group of four girls from her school approached her. "Hey, look what we have here," one of the girls said, pointing at Ghoulia. "Our very own little nerd," she continued and grabbed Ghoulia's bag. Ghoulia tried to take it back, but the other girls pushed her to the ground and started kicking dirt on her. "Oh, poems. How sweet," the previously mentioned girl alisema sarcastically as she began emptying Ghoulia's bag and tearing her vitabu apart. Ghoulia tried to get up and stop her, but she couldn't. The girls surrounding Ghoulia spat on her and laughed.
Eventually, after five to ten minutes, the girls decided to stop. "Get a life wewe pathetic loser!" One of the girls alisema and threw Ghoulia's empty bag to the ground. Then the group just walked away, laughing at Ghoulia, who was still laying on the ground and crying. After a while, she got up, gathered her stuff and then went home, holding back her tears the entire time.
As Ghoulia went home, her family was celebrating yet another remarkable grade her sister had got. Ghoulia wanted to tell her family what had happened, but she didn't want to ruin the moment, so she decided to be quiet. I don't know why she did that. Maybe she felt like she was a dissappointment compared to her sister and that her parents wouldn't even care. au maybe she was too ashamed to tell anyone. To be honest, Ghoulia never had anyone to share her thoughts with and that's probably why she was so bad at expressing her feelings. Anyway, she decided to forget the whole thing and not to think about it anymore. But that only made things worse.
Weeks passed on. Even though Ghoulia had decided to continue her life as if nothing had happened, it was impossible for her. She stopped going to the maktaba so often anymore and quit kusoma vitabu about poetry and art. She also began dressing differently. Her colourful and beautiful clothes changed into a grey, boring layout. As if all that wasn't enough already, her grades also began dropping, which made the gap between her and her big sister even zaidi clear. But it wasn't Ghoulia's fault. All she had loved and cared about had been deprived from her and made fun of. Still, even after all this, Ghoulia somehow managed to survive. Then something drastic happened.
One afternoon, when Ghoulia was returning nyumbani from school, she encountered the same group of girls who had attacked her before. She tried to avoid the girls, but as soon as the group leader noticed Ghoulia, the girls started surroundind her. "Well, look who's here. Our own little nerd. Where have wewe been? I haven't seen wewe at the maktaba lately," the group leader alisema with a mean voice and pushed Ghoulia to the ground. "Don't tell me you've actually quit your nerd stuff, loser. It's not like wewe could change your miserable life. Must be hard when no one loves you," the group leader continued and started kicking Ghoulia. The other girls soon joined in and started hitting and kicking Ghoulia as well.
This went on for ten minutes, just like the last time. When the girls finally stopped and left, Ghoulia was severely injured. She was bleeding and had bruises all over her body. She might have even had few broken bones. However, this was nothing compared to the emotional damage Ghoulia had received. She was crying heavily and felt great agony and grievery inside her. Ghoulia slowly stood up and then went home.
When Ghoulia arrived to her house, there was no one there. Things couldn't have been zaidi worse. Now that she really needed someone, they were all gone. Ghoulia thought about calling her mother and speaking with her, but decided not to call anyway. She also considered calling her father, but didn't. Ghoulia felt like her parents had never been interested in her before, so why would they start now. All their attention went to Ghoulia's perfect sister, who was better than Ghoulia in every way. Ghoulia felt herself helpless and useless piece of garbage, who was nothing zaidi than a burden to her family. She was at her breaking point and just couldn't handle her bad feelings anymore. Ghoulia still heard the words of that evil girl in her head. "Must be hard when no one loves you," was all that she kept hearing. With no one to lean on, Ghoulia made a fatal decision. She went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed one of the bottles inside. With tears flowing from her eyes, Ghoulia opened the bottle and took an overdose. After that, all went dark and she collapsed to the floor.
Ghoulia's family found her few hours later and she was rushed into a hospital. Ghoulia was in a deep coma and no one was sure whether au not she would wake up anymore. These news were shattering to Ghoulia's family, for even though Ghoulia had thought otherwise, they loved her very much. Ghoulia's parents never even once left her room when she was in the hospital and her sister visited her every siku after school.
For eight days Ghoulia managed to survive, but then, on the ninth day, I arrived. Yes, I arrived alone, without my father, for this was my first kill alone. It sure wasn't a car accident, but it still felt horrible for me. Ghoulia's family had gone through a lot and they seemed really exhausted and tired, but were still hoping for Ghoulia to wake up. She looked so calm and beautiful while laying on her bed. I wanted to give her zaidi time, but I couldn't. I approached Ghoulia's kitanda and swiftly touched her to the forehead. She was now gone. As the moyo rate monitor showed straight line, Ghoulia's family, who had been sitting beside her kitanda this entire time, bursted into tears. They hugged Ghoulia and then each other. Their awful ordeal had finally ended, although not in the way they had hoped.
If only Ghoulia's parents could see her now. She has definitely changed a lot. She is zaidi social and outgoing now, has a large group of Marafiki and performs fangtasticly in school. Still, all this could have been avoided, if Ghoulia had known better how to express her feelings. Maybe it was a sick twist of fate that she was reincarnated as a zombie, who are known to be a little hard to understand. I myself, understand all languages, because I'm the son of Death, but I see why zombie language frustrates so many. It isn't the easiest language out there, for sure.
Okay, so now wewe know the origin of Ghoulia, but let's get back to the "main story" now, shall we?
Ghoulia had been experimenting in the lab for almost four hours when she finally turned to me and said: "I'm sorry Hades, but there's nothing I can do,". "What do wewe mean?" I responded. "I ran all the possible experiments that I could with your DNA, but I got no results at all. It seems that wewe can't be cured Hades. I'm so sorry," Ghoulia explained apologetically. "It's okay, Ghoulia. At least we tried. Thank wewe for everything," I said, a bit dissapointed. Ghoulia began cleaning the lab as I walked outside. I felt myself defeated. But there was still something I hadn't tried yet. Something that would change my entire life.
Spectra Vondergeist
Holt Hyde
