A Terrible Thing to Waste

                  A TERRIBLE THING TO WASTE

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(Here it is at last – Skull Boy's origin story, such as it is. I hope you don't mind if I make it a crossover story; I needed a context to put the story in, and I'm quite happy with this one. Chances are that a few of you know these other shows I'm referring to anyway – maybe you even know them well – and the rest of you don't really need to get the references to understand the story - See notes below)
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"The Calacas, also known as animated skeletons, or so-called living skeletons, are a breed of living dead reminiscent of spooks", Professor Archibald Oxford began. "The name "calacas" is Mexican Spanish, and comes from Mexico's tradition of portraying animated skeletons in popular art. Basically, they are souls who, for reasons unknown, cannot leave their bodies."

"Like thinking zombies", a boy on the front row suggested.

"Very much like thinking zombies, with the obvious difference that their bodies have decomposed. A soul who resurfaces as a calaca will, just like a spook, wander around aimlessly for a while until it is taken in by a community of peers."

Morose, who was standing just outside the classroom door, nodded approvingly.

"Like spooks, calacas will often be affected by the Illusion of Aging Phenomenon, meaning that a calaca who started out as a child skeleton can grown into an adult one –"

"How does that work?", a girl in the classroom asked.

"The exact nature of the calacas is still unclear."

"In other words, you have no idea.", one boy snidely suggested.

"Stoker..."

"It's okay, he does have a point. We cannot explain exactly how-"

Morose moved onwards through the ancient, distinguished halls of the old school. Halfway up a staircase, she encountered a noble-looking vampire lady dressed entirely in white.

"Lady Kryptina", Morose greeted her.

"Lady Morose", the vampire responded with impeccable formality. "The Count may see you in the lounge now."   

"Very well" Morose answered in the same tone of voice, "I shall see myself upstairs.", she continued, trying to pass Lady Kryptina.

The two women engaged in a brief and wordless battle of wills, as the white-clad woman was clearly very insistent on escorting the house-guest to the lounge. Morose, who was the less patient one, eventually let her.  

In the lounge, a short table was set for two. There were not plates, but two goblets and a bottle which Morose walked up to and studied closer:

"Chateau Lafitte 1787. Good choice", she said, seemingly to the empty shadows.

"Why thank you, Madame", the shadows replied, and a tall figured stepped out.

The distinguished Count Alarich Von Horrificus had an appearance so majestic and elegant, and yet so terrifying that it would've filled almost anyone with awe. Morose was an exception from this rule; as she was used to such appearances. At family gatherings, Morose would not come across as the most level-headed member of the party. But a vampire castle was a different matter.  She had grown up in a vampire castle, and found vampires much easier to deal with than her own kind. Besides, any banshee could feel safe in the company of vampires. They were more aware than most people of the potentially very dire consequences of upsetting, let alone threatening a banshee.

"I know a bit about the finer things in li…existence." The Count continued. "And I sometimes drink....wine."

Morose acknowledged that she might have found that last line funny if she was a mortal. And if she had a sense of humor.

They both sat down, and the Count poured the wine.

"Again, Madame, I must thank you for agreeing to give a guest lecture on the history of Baron Malevolencour's reign."

"No problem, I was there when it happened, after all."

"Also, I apologize if I kept you waiting."

"Think nothing of it, Count. You gave me enough time to make some interesting observations. I noticed you've included sociology in your curriculum…"

"Yes, we are not completely isolationist, Madame. Your granddaughters would be welcome here."  

"What, as token non-vampires? No offence, Count, but no thank you. My family has decided to enrol them in the Scare School."

"I thought the banshees detested that school."

"No, only its administration. Correction, its previous administration. Mr. Alder and Mr. Dash had enough sense to retire in time, even though we had to pull a few strings to make it happen. And despite its remaining faults, the Scare School does have the most versatile education of any school available to our kind."

"I understand."

"Also, they have mixed classes. The children should get their education in a diverse community, rather than in a...segregated one."

"Segregated? What are you implying, Madame?"

Morose looked more intrepidly than ever at the vampire nobleman. She knew exactly how freely she was allowed to speak, considering her background and position.

"You may not be entirely isolationist any more, but you cannot deny that vampires still act very...superior."

The Count leaned back, looking thoughtful. He stared into the air for a while before he said:

"The children are learning about calacas tonight."

"Yes, I overheard it just now"

The Count straightened up again, and looked his female companion in the eyes:

"You talk of vampires acting superior, Madame. Well, not to be rude, but what about the young calaca you took away from his own kind just a few years ago?"

Morose scowled. "You mean Murky? We did not take him from his own kind, as much as we kept them from getting him in the first place."

"And that is not acting superior? The Count barely managed to suppress a smug smile: "You even gave him a Banshee name."

"It was…a working title. Nowadays, he's called Skull Boy."

After a short, awkward pause, Morose added: "Yeah, I know. But he chose it himself. And it's not like we kept him for long. We left him at the Gloom family's mansion, where his skills could develop more properly. Thanks to the IAP, he's rapidly turning into a young man, and his skills are progressing nicely."

"How do you follow his development?"

"My niece Misery is living at the mansion now. She's writing letters to the family, updating us on the boy's development."

"I see."

"And for your information", Morose added indignantly, "The mansion is now home to a variety of creatures, so it's not like us Banshees think we're the only ones superior enough to look after him!"

"Even so, you're keeping him away from the calaca community." The vampire stoically pointed out.

Morose crossed her arms. "And I'm not apologizing for that. The calacas are good people, but just like the spooks, they are too leisurely – They cannot appreciate a great intellect like Murky's. It would wither in their company. They took it nicely, anyway. All they asked for was that a band of calaca musicians would be allowed to visit the mansion regularly to keep an eye on the boy's artistic abilities."

"Yes, whatever else one thinks of the calacas, one must admire their musical abilities. Which bandmaster did they send?"

"Taylor Wilson."

"I've met him. Charming fellow."

"Although he calls himself Skele-T nowadays."

The Count smiled. "What calaca names lack in dignity, they make up for in charming descriptiveness." Then he nipped at his goblet before he got serious again.

"So have you decided what use we will make of the Skull Boy's intellect? See, many leading figures in the vampire community have told me that they are getting suspicious of The Center – Especially of the true intentions of its leadership..."

"I don't trust M.O.M. either, but I thought we agreed that Mur...Skull Boy is not to be regarded as a weapon."

"I'm just saying we should keep all possibilities open."

"We will not allow Skull Boy's development to be tainted by petty ethnic and tribalist interests. Gloomsville is the ideal place to avoid that sort of thing – It's free, not only of human prejudices towards creatures, but also vice versa!"

"I suspect that last comment was aimed as much at the Scare School as my school, Madame."

"You're probably right about that. But the point is, there will be no pressure on the boy. He needs to find his own direction and purpose."

"Fair enough. But what does the observing party think about this? What is your niece's opinion?"

"She doesn't have one, because she knows nothing about this."

"Come again?"
  
"To Misery, Skull Boy is just another one of her friends at the mansion. I think she might remember that the family briefly took in a kid calaca that we named Murky, but there's nothing in her letters to suggest that she's made any clear connections. So we decided not to tell her."

"A curious decision, Madame. As the family historian, your niece should be informed of the child's history."

"Agreed. If he had a history."

"Sorry?"

Morose took a good twinge of her goblet.

"See, from our resident psychic we were warned that a young child with great talents was about to resurrect as a calaca. We had no name, but we had the coordinates, so we sent an envoy to get the child anyway. When she got there, the child was roaming the graveyard, bewildered. He had lost his memory, as most calacas do in their resurrection process…"

The Count interrupted her: "Wait, he could walk? I heard that the child calaca of Gloom mansion was left on the doorstep as a baby."

"We asked the Glooms to make up that story, in ordrer to confuse anyone who might be looking for him. He was actually a toddler when he was found."

"You're not taking any chances, do you?"

"Banshees never do."

"But this doesn't explain why you claim that the child has no history."

"It was my daughter who went to pick up the child – she has the friendliest disposition of anyone in our family, so we figured she'd be the safest. It didn't occur to her to look for an open grave when the child was already up and walking anyway, and I don't really blame her. We never considered it that important. So you see, Count, my niece's position as an historian in not relevant, for this child has no history to speak about. There are also other reasons, of course. We want Misery to remain an impartial observer who can treat the boy like any other acquaintance. Unfortunately, Misery informs me that Skull Boy refuses to leave the past be. He keeps on speculating about his background, and is apparently desperate to learn more about whatever family he might have had once. If this goes on, we might have to explain my niece the whole thing, and ask her to do some detective work. If only he can get some answers, perhaps he will be content. And then – "

Morose paused to empty her goblet. Then she concluded:

"- Skull Boy needs to look forward."