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The Heroes sat in the Administration Hall of DendÅ University Jill was messing with her tablet. Valk was sitting with his arms crossed, deep in thought. Deadguy was standing at the window, watching the people walking through the bleak winter weather. "Ah, Dendo U." Our Hero declared. "my old Alma Mater."
"No it's not," Valk remarked.
"How do you know," Deadguy asked, turning his attention from the window.
"It's still standing," he replied. Jill chuckled.
"The dean will see you now," the administrative assistant announced. The Heroes walked into the dean's office. Jill took one of the seats at the desk. Valk sat down on the couch towards the door. Deadguy started looking around. The dean was a gruff, older man with a receding hairline.
"I'm grateful for coming to see me on such short notice," he said. His voice was a mix of raspy and silky. It was a voice that could probably still woo a woman or two. "This is a matter of great importance."
"I would presume so," Jill said.
"Of course, you know we have to keep this confidential," he continued. "The reputation of the school is on the line. As is my reputation."
"Oh, of course," Jill agreed. "Utmost of confidentiality."
"How many have died," Deadguy asked, thumbing through a book.
The dean shuttered. "There's been three," he answered. "I'd like to have this taken care of before it becomes four."
"No need to panic, Mister Stockwell," Our Hero said.
"Dean," he corrected.
"I thought your name was Nathaniel?"
Jill sighed and covered her eyes. Valkadaidan sucked some air through his teeth. The dean just gave him a confused look. "Is he being serious," he asked.
"I don't know," she answered.
"Here's the plan, Nate Dog," Deadguy proclaimed, throwing the book over his shoulder. "We're going to take up resident in the school. Go to class. Socialize with the students. Try not to get busted for underage drinking, not that I would ever condone underage drinking. You should wait until the legal age of whatever country you're living in."
"What are you talking about," Stockwell asked, more confused than before.
"Legality purposes for anyone reading," he answered.
"Reading what," Jill asked.
"We're going to bring this person to justice," he continued, ignoring them. "Ya see, I have this nifty little ability where I can't die. If this electric psycho pops up, we'll be there to slap 'em back down."
"Do I have any say in this," Stockwell asked.
"Actually, I have a better idea," Jill said, ignoring the dean. "How about instead of all of us here, which might draw unwanted attention, we just have you stay here to catch them."
"Just me," DG asked. Jill nodded. "Alright, I'm going back to school. I think."
"Why am I suddenly filled with worry and regret," Stockwell mumble.
"Eat more fiber," Deadguy suggested to him. "That might clear that up."
"Here it is," Jill announced as the Heroes walked the hall of the dorm. "Room 1029." Deadguy fished out the key from his trench coat pocket and opened the door.
He took in a great breath. "Ah, dorm sweet dorm," he remarked. It wasn't so much a dorm but a tiny apartment, complete with a small kitchen, a living area, and two bedrooms on opposite sides of it. "Apparently, I've been upgraded to the Presidential Dorm."
"Who the hell are you," a voice asked. Only then did he notice that someone was sitting on the sofa. He was a husky young man with brown glasses and short brown hair.
"I even get my own roommate," Deadguy commented. "This is just too much." He turned and hugged Jill and Valk. "I love you, Mom and Dad. I'll miss you," he stated in a mock tone of sadness.
"Let go," Valkadaidan growled.
Our Hero backed up, still holding onto their outer shoulders. "Don't cry, Mom. This just means your little boy's all grown up."
"Does this mean you'll actually start acting like a grown up," Jill questioned.
He let go of them and turned to the man on the couch. "Alright Roomie," he said. "Let's go hang out at the Quad, whatever the hell that is."
Valk shook his head as the two Heroes began to leave. "Call us if you need anything," Jill suggested as she shut the door.
"Again, who are you," the man asked. Deadguy dropped his duffel bag on the floor and took a seat at the recliner.
"I'm Deadguy, but you don't know that," he introduced. "You only know me as David Greene, your mild-mannered roommate."
"Never heard of you," he remarked.
"Okay. First, ouch. Second, I'm a Professional Hero and here to stop some electric psycho from killing more students."
"Oh, I've heard of her," the man replied.
"Oh, her you've heard...wait. Her?" Our Hero leaned forward in his chair, thinking for a moment. "No one said anything about a her. This might complicate thing a bit. Alright, what do you know?"
"Not much. The last victim was, I guess, a friend of mine. Jason Lospartach. He was dating some girl whose name began with an M."
"You ever met the girl?"
"Nope. They were only together for a week before he was fried."
"You don't really seem entirely shook up about it," Deadguy questioned.
"He still owed my five bucks," the man answered.
Our Hero sat back in the chair. "What's your name kid?"
"Aaron Bowman," he answered.
"Where you from?"
"I'm a local. Troughton Street."
"Oh yeah? What's with that hobo statue?"
Aaron just shrugged. "I have no idea, all I know is I've got to get to class." He stood up and shoved his books into his backpack.
Deadguy shot up out of the chair. "Right. Class. The second reason people go to college.
Aaron gave him a confused look. "Second reason? What's the first?"
Deadguy shrugged "Bragging rights," he suggested. Aaron sighed and shook his head.