school Jasper had ever been to, and heâd been to a lot of schools. At this school, instead of learning how to read, write and do maths, the students were only taught one thing: how to hunt monsters.
The school building was an old stone mansion with towering turrets and plate-glass windows, surrounded by a spooky dark forest. None of the kids knew exactly where the school was, or even which country it was in. They had all been flown to the school in some kind of hypnotised sleep, and had no idea how far from their homes they were. But wherever they were, it was cold. Not just cold â freezing. It snowed all the time. And the area was crawling with monsters. Jasper wondered if the monsters somehow created the chilly weather â whenever they were about the temperature seemed to drop.
Jasper hadnât yet worked out if he was more scared of the monsters or the teachers. He was pretty sure the teachers at Monstrum House could read his thoughts. They had a spooky way of knowing what you were thinking. And of course, if you did anything wrong, they could tell â and youâd be punished.
Jasper had been expelled from every school heâd ever been to. He was used to school punishments. But at Monstrum House, being punished didnât mean picking up rubbish or writing lines. It meant running through a forest in the middle of the night with dogs chasing you. Or being locked in a room with something terrifying, something bloodcurdling, something hideously ugly. And it wasnât Stenka.
But there was something else about Monstrum House that was different to other schools. It had something no other school had ever had.
Excitement.
Hunting monsters was exciting . And that is what gave Jasper a buzz.
2
Jasper was staring at a fly.
He still couldnât get the fishy taste out of his mouth. His friend Felix had suggested rubbing his mouth out with soap â but all that'd done was make him throw up. His friend Saffy told him never to feel sorry for a monster again.
Some friends, thought Jasper.
Mr Golag, the Mental Manipulations teacher, was lurching up and down between the desks. He was a hairy, thick-set man with a hunched back and a lumpy face.
â Be the fly,â he wheezed. âFrom understanding comes control.â
Everyone sat silently at their desks, staring intently at the flies trapped under the glass jars in front of them.
The classroom was gloomy. It was only lit by lamps, as Mr Golag didnât like bright lights.
At one time Jasper would have thought that spending a whole class sitting in a dimly lit room staring at flies was boring, but not now. After months of nothing but reading and theory, Mental Manipulations class looked as though it was finally about to get interesting.
Jasper knew that of all his classes, Mental Manipulations could turn out to be the most important. Although they were only starting off with flies, by third year they would be learning how to mentally manipulate monsters, and that would be seriously cool.
Mental manipulation was how the teachers trained the monsters that were used in student tests. It didnât work on all monsters, and it didnât always work as planned, but Jasper figured that being able to influence a monster into not eating him would be a definite advantage.
âWatch,â said Mr Golag. He pointed to a large sack hanging from the roof. âInside that sack,â he continued quietly, âis a Cranklesucker.â
Mr Golag untied the sack and carried it gently to the front of the class. He smiled and lay the sack fondly by his feet.
Cool, Jasper thought, as a forked claw silently reached out of the opening in the sack.
âCranklesuckers belong to the Muncher order of monsters,â said Mr Golag.
OK, maybe not quite so cool, thought Jasper. He wasnât so sure he liked being in the same room as a Muncher. Even a trained one.
A look of concentration came over Mr Golagâs face, and then he whistled a
The school building was an old stone mansion with towering turrets and plate-glass windows, surrounded by a spooky dark forest. None of the kids knew exactly where the school was, or even which country it was in. They had all been flown to the school in some kind of hypnotised sleep, and had no idea how far from their homes they were. But wherever they were, it was cold. Not just cold â freezing. It snowed all the time. And the area was crawling with monsters. Jasper wondered if the monsters somehow created the chilly weather â whenever they were about the temperature seemed to drop.
Jasper hadnât yet worked out if he was more scared of the monsters or the teachers. He was pretty sure the teachers at Monstrum House could read his thoughts. They had a spooky way of knowing what you were thinking. And of course, if you did anything wrong, they could tell â and youâd be punished.
Jasper had been expelled from every school heâd ever been to. He was used to school punishments. But at Monstrum House, being punished didnât mean picking up rubbish or writing lines. It meant running through a forest in the middle of the night with dogs chasing you. Or being locked in a room with something terrifying, something bloodcurdling, something hideously ugly. And it wasnât Stenka.
But there was something else about Monstrum House that was different to other schools. It had something no other school had ever had.
Excitement.
Hunting monsters was exciting . And that is what gave Jasper a buzz.
2
Jasper was staring at a fly.
He still couldnât get the fishy taste out of his mouth. His friend Felix had suggested rubbing his mouth out with soap â but all that'd done was make him throw up. His friend Saffy told him never to feel sorry for a monster again.
Some friends, thought Jasper.
Mr Golag, the Mental Manipulations teacher, was lurching up and down between the desks. He was a hairy, thick-set man with a hunched back and a lumpy face.
â Be the fly,â he wheezed. âFrom understanding comes control.â
Everyone sat silently at their desks, staring intently at the flies trapped under the glass jars in front of them.
The classroom was gloomy. It was only lit by lamps, as Mr Golag didnât like bright lights.
At one time Jasper would have thought that spending a whole class sitting in a dimly lit room staring at flies was boring, but not now. After months of nothing but reading and theory, Mental Manipulations class looked as though it was finally about to get interesting.
Jasper knew that of all his classes, Mental Manipulations could turn out to be the most important. Although they were only starting off with flies, by third year they would be learning how to mentally manipulate monsters, and that would be seriously cool.
Mental manipulation was how the teachers trained the monsters that were used in student tests. It didnât work on all monsters, and it didnât always work as planned, but Jasper figured that being able to influence a monster into not eating him would be a definite advantage.
âWatch,â said Mr Golag. He pointed to a large sack hanging from the roof. âInside that sack,â he continued quietly, âis a Cranklesucker.â
Mr Golag untied the sack and carried it gently to the front of the class. He smiled and lay the sack fondly by his feet.
Cool, Jasper thought, as a forked claw silently reached out of the opening in the sack.
âCranklesuckers belong to the Muncher order of monsters,â said Mr Golag.
OK, maybe not quite so cool, thought Jasper. He wasnât so sure he liked being in the same room as a Muncher. Even a trained one.
A look of concentration came over Mr Golagâs face, and then he whistled a
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