This page took a big push and I have a dear friend visiting from across the country this next week, so Paranatural will be on break next week! Thank you for waiting in the meantime, and thanks for reading! Support Paranatural on Patreon and Ko-fi! Thank you!
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[Transcript]
The Sphinx of Lies careened over Isabel’s head as she ducked, disguising her dodge as a dip down to retie her shoe. An abrupt about-face she concealed in a stretch gave Isabel’s six spectral arms the momentum they needed to spin like a carwash component. A whirlwind of hands slapped the Sphinx of Lies silly... but “silly” was a status effect the sphinx already had, and only ever seemed to buff the savagery it masked.
“You’re getting hit by this one, dude!” the battered Sphinx of Lies announced, calling his shot before returning fire.
Spectral energy expanded and extended his tail into a spiked flail as the Sphinx of Lies whirled in a punch-drunk pirouette. The newly formed weapon lashed out in Isabel’s direction like a tether ball, but she was unperturbed.
“Cool prophecy,” scoffed Isabel. “That taunt is proof you’re gonna miss, genius.”
Isabel’s smirk faded as she realized what it meant that she could say those words aloud, but it was too late to react. The sphinx’s golden wrecking ball tail slammed into her, shattering all three of her extra right arms. She pinballed through a confused crowd and crashed against the wall of the Detention Fortress.
“Oops,” the Sphinx of Lies sneered. “I spoke too soon, dude: you weren’t getting hit... until it hit you!”
The spirit’s gloating was impaired by the fact that he couldn’t state the truth of his linguistic trick, however, and so he actually said some other, less comprehensible version of the sentence written above. So great was the Sphinx of Lies’ power that he was able to make a liar out of me, your now unreliable narrator. The boast was doubly dampened by Isabel’s C+ in English class, and by the sudden screech of Pompom’s crackling megaphone.
“Stop, like, testingthewallsfor WEAKNESSES! Like, you’re totallynotgonna Riki-Oh:TheStoryofRicky(1991) your wayoutofTHISone, littlemiss GUERRA!” Pompom shouted down at Isabel.
Bea hurriedly amended her movie date playlist, growing increasingly concerned and concerningly intrigued by Pompom’s taste in hyperviolent action movies. Clearly her parents didn’t keep a close enough eye on her, and so it fell on Bea, her responsible nemesis, to stare at her at all times in their stead.
“...Guerra?” the Sphinx of Lies repeated. “Like, why’s that name sound so familiar, bro?” His stalking approach stalled as he scratched his chin in thought, giving Isabel time to sway back to her feet.
“Maybe you took... a Spectral Fist lesson or two?” Isabel scoffed, dusting the chalk from her jersey. “Can’t imagine you got much more than a white belt... with constructs that pathetic.”
Isabel was stalling; she’d blocked the brunt of the sphinx’s attack, but her arm was throbbing from the impact, and the attention that “tripping” had earned her had yet to die down. Still, though, the sphinx’s attack had piqued her curiosity. His truth-telling sister had used spectral energy as a weapon, too... a trick that few spirits employed. Developing the discipline required to reshape raw spectral energy was a needless chore if you had teeth and claws and laser vision, after all. Besides, Isabel knew the core concept of the technique to be her grandfather’s invention... and he would never teach a spirit Spectral Fist (even if the Sphinx of Lies did kind of look like Mr. Spender’s weird fursona). If her last name was familiar, though... could they have fought her grandfather before? Could they have once been his prisoners, like Flipflop was now? Maybe they’d picked up some Spectral Fist basics to turn the technique against its creator?
“Ohhh! Master Guerra,” grinned the Sphinx of Lies. “I totally forgot about that guy. Are you his granddaughter? I had no idea! Let me tell ya, that dude’s a living legend! He deserves all the credit he gets!” The spirit cracked his neck and flexed his sharpened claws. “Your old man must’ve been a patient teacher. You’ve totally mastered his technique! But I don’t wanna make him mad, so I’ll go easy on you, bro... even though nobody asked me to! I’m such a thoughtful dude!”
“I’m so scared,” Isabel replied sarcastically, sprouting scarlet spectral talons.
The Sphinx of Lies grinned wider than anatomy allowed.
“You’re going to win this fight,” he snarled, and Isabel’s smirk withered on her face. Fortunately, it found cause to return just moments later.
“YAAAAAAAAAHHH!”
Max came skipping at the Sphinx of Lies from behind (since it had been decreed that they were not allowed to run). He’d only half-learned one Spectral Fist technique, and his spec-shots were still weird snotballs bound by gravity, but these drawbacks hardly mattered when you egged your foe up close and at top speed. The pop of his punch caused the sphinx to faceplant in the gravel, and Max completed his surprise attack by skipping off its back. His minions cheered, for they believed their jaunty boss had learned to double jump.
“Max!” laughed Isabel, catching him to stop her friend and his momentum from leaving a second student-shaped impression in the chalk words on the wall.
The Sphinx of Lies began to rise, rumbling with wrath, before Max had a chance to catch his breath. In a panic, Max swiftly snatched a piece of chalk from a nearby stunlocked student and began forcefully underlining the writing on the wall—the thinnest pretense to disguise the spec-shot eggs that he was flinging at the sphinx over his shoulders. It didn’t help the masquerade that Max was screaming while he did it, but the scattershot barrage did blast the sphinx back off its feet.
“HEY!” Pompom barked down at Max, sounding more like a poodle that fit in a purse than the guard dog of a ruthless student government. “You’re only allowed to write, like, remorsefulaffirmations onthewall?”
“I’M NOT SORRY!” Max shouted, startled by the feedback of her megaphone.
“Eep!” Pompom squeaked. She’d been similarly startled by this unexpected feedback. “W-well... since you didn’t TECHNICALLY writeanything... it’s not TECHNICALLY againsttherules? I guess?”
Max’s bully minions murmured to each other in awe. They’d never seen such brazen defiance of the Student Council from a boss since the Dragon of Detention’s storied rise.
“Look!” exclaimed a more perceptive bully. He pointed at the writing on the wall behind their boss.
Pompom was right. Max hadn’t written down a single word... and yet the message he had left was just as clear as it was wholly accidental.
While the cheering and moshing of Max’s growing rebel faction drew the Student Council’s aggro, Isabel and Max approached the groaning Sphinx of Lies, who was still struggling to rise and take revenge.
“This guy said I’m not gonna win this fight,” smirked Isabel, “which means I’m free to kick his butt until you tap in for the finisher.” She grinned at Max and raised her spectral energy fists. “Don’t fulfill the prophecy too quickly, Max, okay?”
“The last straw is prepared to mushroom stomp the camel’s back,” Max replied in weary monotone.
“ISABEL GUERRA!”
Barrister’s reedy voice cut through the rowdy roar of the Detention Fortress.
“...Shoot,” Isabel swore. She’d been summoned to the courtroom—to the lair of the Vice Principal. Had that many names really been called already?
“Didn’t you hear the funnylittleman?!” Pompom shouted at Isabel. “Like, get going!”
Isabel felt the Sphinx of Rules’ compulsion start to force her feet to move.
“UM. Okay, uh. Max! You’re gonna have to wrap this up alone!”
“HUH?! WAIT, ISABEL—”
“Don’t worry! A stiff breeze would knock him down for the count! Just ask Isaac to whip one up!” Isabel pointed past Max to the sphinx. “Look, he’s just lying there—”
The Sphinx of Lies crushed cracks into the ground as he began to twist and swell into a ravenous, musclebound grudge.
“WHO’S. LYING. NOW?!” the mutating spirit snarled, and Max went whiter than the chalk he’d dropped in fear.