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Toshinori leaned against the wall in the darkness of the dorm kitchen. He had agreed to check on the kids this evening with all of his younger hero coworkers out working a busy weekend. Halloween was one of those silly American holidays that had happily migrated with its spooky festivities across the ocean. It made adults go out, get drunk, and sometimes do stupid things that heroes had to work overtime to keep in check.
Apparently, it made his students in class 1-A sit around the dorm living room with the lights off and tell spooky stories to one another. It looked as though some flameless candles had either been borrowed from young Tokoyami’s room or had been created by young Yaoyorozu and were placed in a little mock fire in the center of the circled students.
At that moment, young Ida had the stage. He held a flashlight beneath his chin, the light reflecting off his glasses in a villainous way as he told his version of a scary story. The spookiness of the lighting was thrown off a little by the boy’s jerking robotic arm motions as he spoke. Toshinori smiled to himself about it.
“Which was how the worst case scenario came to pass. Despite his best efforts, every last one of the man’s spare glasses had been broken. He was left with blurry vision and nowhere to go to buy new glasses until the shops opened again on Monday!”
There was a brief silence after the story finale. Young Kaminari broke it. “Uh, Ida? While I’m sure that would suck, that story isn’t actually scary, you know?”
Young Ida blustered so hard he nearly dropped the flashlight. “Being without any glasses at all? Kaminari! That’s the most frightening thing I can think of!”
Their hero teacher shook his head. Honestly, at least he hadn’t told a story about fighting the Hero Killer. Considering how that had ended for his older brother, that would have been a truly frightful tale. In this moment, telling silly stories around battery operated candles, possibly broken glasses was the most frightful thing young Ida could think of.
“What’s frightening is how bad you nerds are at telling scary stories. Sounds like I should tell you another one!”
There was a collective groan from the students as young Bakugo made to reach for the flashlight. Young Ojiro spoke for them. “Ending every sentence with something exploding isn’t as frightening as you think it is, Bakugo.”
Fingers firmly on the flashlight, young Bakugo aimed it at his classmate. “And murder, nerd. Explosions and murder. You’ve all had to fight me in drills, you're telling me you don’t think explosions are scary when they're in your face?!”
Young Kirashima laughed. “When we’re fighting you, sure. Not in the stories though! Let Midoriya have a turn.”
A series of small explosions sparkled across young Bakugo’s fingers as he sneered at his red haired classmate. After a moment, he shined the light on an overly excited looking young Midoriya. He was nearly bouncing where he sat on the floor as he reached for the flashlight. Young Bakugo scoffed. “Let me guess, you're going to tell us about All Might’s Toxic Chainsaw fight.”
Young Midoriya’s posture wilted on the spot, his lower lip poking out in a pout. “Kacchan, why did you have to ruin the surprise?”
“Midoriya,” young Asui noted patiently, “telling scary stories around a fire is for scary stories, not recounting hero fights. Ribbit.”
“Toxic Chainsaw was a pretty frightening villain,” young Uraraka pleaded in his successor’s defense.
Young Jiro spoke up over all of them. “I have a better idea. Let’s have All Might tell us a spooky story.”
The girl snagged the flashlight from young Bakugo’s surprised grip and tossed it with precision across the dark room and into the shadows Toshinori had so deftly hidden himself in. Those ears, of course she knew he was there. He caught the flashlight as it spun in front of him and turned it on himself with a little wave at the class.
There was a collective noise of excitement from the kids on seeing him that made Toshinori’s heart swell with joy. These kids were amazing. Young Midoriya and young Ashido both bolted to their feet and ran to his side. His successor caught a grip on one elbow, the pink girl took his other elbow, they both nearly dragged him to their story telling circle. Midoriya was excited, “All Might, what are you doing here? Come join us!”
Ashido was equally excited but for different reasons. “Sensei! You have to tell us a scary story! You would have the best scary story telling voice! I want my hair to stand on end!”
“I was checking in to make sure you were all well when I saw the lights were out so early. Then I was enjoying your stories. I suppose I could come up with something if you all would like?”
Aoyama leaned forward into the candle light as the students shifted to make room for Toshinori in their circle. “Oui, monsieur! Tell us of a dazzling villain fight and a sparkling win!”
Asui still wasn’t having it. “No hero fights. Ribbit. Spooky stories like ghosts and scary noises in the night.”
Toshinori hummed, one hand on the flashlight now pointed at the ground and one stroking his chin in thought. “Scary noises, huh? I think I have a spooky story for you. From a time before quirks.”
Ida jerked his arms stiffly. “Rules are you need to shine the light on your face as you tell the story, sensei!”
Toshinori grinned, raising the light to point up under his chin as Ida had been doing earlier. He imagined in this skinny form the light shining off of him like this must be good for the spooky atmosphere. “Understood. This is a story from a long time ago. A time before electric lights and cars. This is a story of a young man who lived in a two bedroom home with an old man.
"If you asked him, the young man would tell you he wasn’t crazy. He was simply more sensitive to sights and sounds around him than anyone else was. That didn’t make him crazy. One of the things he was most sensitive to was the sight of the old man’s blind eye. It was pale and filmy and the young man hated the very sight of it. He loathed to look at the old man everyday they lived together.
"The young man would tell you he didn’t hate the old man, only his eye. He had nothing against the old man. That eye bothered him to distraction. He thought about it night and day. He began to consider that there was only one way to get rid of that awful eye; he had to murder the old man.”
Toshinori took a breath and checked in on his kids. They all leaned forward intently. Their faces focused on him with bright interest. He grinned and continued. “The young man thought long and hard about how to do the deed. He would do it while the old man slept, he decided. He didn’t want to torture the old man. He didn’t hate him, only his eye.
“Just past midnight every night, the young man took his shuttered lantern and would creep oh-so-slowly into the old man’s room. He was quiet and careful because the door hinges creaked and the wooden floor boards squealed when you stepped on them wrong. Every night he would creep back out. You see, the old man’s eyes were closed while he slept. The young man didn’t hate the old man, he only hated that eye. The one he couldn’t see while it was closed.
“One fateful night while the young man crept into the old man’s room, the door creaked despite his efforts. The old man startled awake and called, “Who’s there?”’
“The young man held his breath, held his closed lantern, and held his pose. He didn’t move for over an hour, and still the old man would not lie down. In the stillness of the bedroom, the young man could hear a muffled noise. ‘Thump, thump, thump.’
“The old man’s heartbeat, speeding up as the minutes passed. The young man was thrilled. This might be the moment, this might be the night he finally got rid of that eye! Death was coming for the old man and the old man knew it. He lay there silently telling himself it was a mouse or wind blowing through the house that made the noise. But that wasn’t the case.
“Oh so slowly, the young man slid the shutter on his dark lantern open just a sliver. The thin light landed on the old man’s wide open, pale eye. There it was, the eye that the young man loathed. The old man shouted into the night and toppled off of his bed. The young man set his lantern down and sprang across the room where he pulled the mattress off of the bed and smothered the old man to death. The old man lay still, his heart beat no longer echoing in the dark room.”
There was a gasp from multiple of his students. Even young Bakugo who, while he was doing his best to not lean in like everyone else, was clearly invested in the story. A spot of murder would do that.
Toshinori allowed for a dramatic pause before pressing on. “The young man had thought it through. He had planned how he would handle this. He took the old man’s body to the washroom and dismembered him in the bathtub. Easier to clean up, you see, no blood splatter. From there he returned to the old man’s room and pried up the floorboards. He dug a hole in the dirt underneath and buried the old man right there in his own room. He then replaced the floor boards and remade the bed. That terrible eye was gone and no one would ever have any reason to suspect what happened.
“Later that morning there was a knock on the door. It was the police. The neighbors had heard a shout in the night. The young man explained the shout was his own as he woke up from a nightmare. He ushered the police into the house with confidence. He told them the old man was on vacation in the country and not expected home for some time. He was so confident he invited the police to check everything, to see even that the old man’s belongings were untouched.
“The young man was so brazenly confident that he brought chairs to the old man's room and invited the two policemen to sit and rest. He took a third chair for himself and sat right there where the old man was buried. He talked to the policemen calmly and cheerfully so that they believed he was innocent of any wrong doing. They did believe him. And then the noise began again.
“‘Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.’
“The young man started to talk louder and faster. That was the old man’s heart. The old man was dead, his heart shouldn’t beat, shouldn’t echo from the floorboards under his chair. The young man had to be brighter and louder or he was sure the police would hear the noise as well.
“‘Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.’
“The young man grew desperate. In his mind, he began to shout and yell. He threw furniture to cover the noise. He thought it was in his mind, as the police sat smiling and talking as though nothing was happening at all. The young man knew he wasn’t crazy. And yet…
“‘Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.’
“With a shriek, the young man leapt to his feet. “Stop! No more talking! You’ve caught me! I killed the old man! He’s buried just here under the floor. His heart still beats! Can you hear it? Make it STOP!”
“‘Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.’”
Toshinori grinned into the flashlight as he watched his student’s reactions. Mineta was clinging to a pillow. Kaminari was clinging to Kirishima. Ashido and Hagakure were clinging to each other. The teacher flipped his flashlight off and set it on the ground before pressing his hand to the floor and standing up with a ‘hup.’ Once there he cheerfully stated. “Okay kids, there’s your story. Time for bed!”
The look of fear that crossed at least a few of those young faces made it all worth it. As they thanked him and filed out, young Yayorozu stopped beside him. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Edgar Allen Poe’s work, sensei.”
Toshinori laughed. “I knew if anyone would recognize the story of the Tell-Tale Heart, it would be you. Poe’s stories are all quite spooky, I’ve always enjoyed them.”
“It was particularly spooky the way you told it, sensei. Thank you.”
“Of course. Sleep well. I don’t think some of your classmates will tonight.”