Reaper Man

"How can you kill ghosts?"

"How should I know? The question doesn't usually arise!"

"You exorcise them, I think."

"What? Jumpin' up and down, runnin' on the spot, that kind of thing?"

The Dean had been ready for this. "It's spelled with an "O", Archchancellor. I don't think one is expected to subject them to, er, physical exertion."

"Should think not, man. We don't want a lot of healthy ghosts buzzin' around."

There was a blood-curdling scream. It echoed around the dark pillars and arches, and was suddenly cut off.

The Archchancellor stopped abruptly. The wizards cannoned into him.

"Sounded like a blood-curdlin' scream," he said. "Follow me!"

He ran around the corner.

There was a metallic crash, and a lot of swearing.

Something small and striped red and yellow, with tiny dripping fangs and three pairs of wings, flew around the corner and shot over the Dean's head making a noise like a miniature buzzsaw.

"Anyone know what that was?" said the Bursar, faintly. The thing orbited the wizards and then disappeared into the darkness of the roof. "And I wish he wouldn't swear so."

"Come on," said the Dean. ‘We'd better see what's happened to him."

"Must we?" said the Senior Wrangler.

They peered around the corner. The Archchancellor was sitting up, rubbing his ankle.

"What idiot left this here?" he said.

"Left what?" said the Dean.

"This blasted wire baskety wheely thing," said the Archchancellor. Beside him, a tiny purple spider-like creature materialised out of the air and scuttled towards a crevice. The wizards didn't notice it.

"What wire baskety wheely thing?" said the wizards, in unison.

Ridcully looked around him.

"I could have sworn –" he began.

There was another scream.

Ridcully scrambled to his feet.

"Come on, you fellows!" he said, limping heroically onwards.

"Why does everyone run towards a blood-curdling scream?" mumbled the Senior Wrangler. "It's contrary to all sense."

They trotted out through the cloisters and into the quadrangle.

A rounded, dark shape was squatting in the middle of the ancient lawn. Steam was coming out of it in little, noisome wisps.

"What is it?"

"It can't be a compost heap in the middle of the lawn, can it?"

"Modo will be very upset."

The Dean peered closer. "Er... especially because, I do believe, that's his feet poking out from under it..."

The heap swivelled towards the wizards and made a glop, glop noise.

Then it moved.

"Right, then," said Ridcully, rubbing his hands together hopefully, "which of you fellows has got a spell about them at the moment?"

The wizards patted their pockets in an embarrassed fashion.

"Then I shall attract its attention while the Bursar and the Dean try to pull Modo out," said Ridcully.

"Oh, good, " said the Dean faintly.

"How can you attract a compost heap's attention?" said the Senior Wrangler. "I shouldn't think it's even got one."

Ridcully removed his hat and stepped gingerly forward.

"Load of rubbish!" he roared.

The Senior Wrangler groaned and put his hand over his eyes.

Ridcully flapped his hat in front of the heap.

"Biodegradable garbage!"

"Poor green trash?" said the Lecturer in Recent Runes helpfully.

"That's the ticket," said the Archchancellor. "Try to infuriate the bugger. " (Behind him, a slightly different variety of mad waspy creature popped out of the air and buzzed away.)

The heap lunged at the hat.

"Midden!" said Ridcully.

"Oh, I say," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, shocked.

The Dean and the Bursar crept forward, grabbed a gardener's foot each, and pulled. Modo slid out of the heap.

"It‘s eaten through his clothes!" said the Dean.

"But is he all right?"

"He's still breathing," said the Bursar.

"And if he's lucky, he's lost his sense of smell, " said the Dean.

The heap snapped at Ridcully's hat. There was a glop. The point of the hat had vanished.

"Hey, there was still almost half a bottle in there!" Ridcully roared. The Senior Wrangler grabbed his arm.

"Come on, Archchancellor!"

The heap swivelled and lunged towards the Bursar.

The wizards backed away.

"It can't be intelligent, can it?" said the Bursar.

"All it's doing is moving around slowly and eating things, " said the Dean.

"Put a pointy hat on it and it'd be a faculty member," said the Archchancellor.

The heap came after them.

"I wouldn't call that moving slowly," said the Dean.

They looked expectantly at the Archchancellor.

"Run!"

Portly though most of the faculty were, they hit a fair turn of speed up the cloisters, fought one another through the door, slammed it behind them and leaned on it. Very soon afterwards, there was a damp, heavy thud on the far side.

"We're well out of that," said the Bursar.

The Dean looked down.

"I think it's coming through the door, Archchancellor," he said, in a tiny voice.

"Don't be daft, man, we're all leanin' on it."

"I didn't mean through, I mean... through..."

The Archchancellor sniffed.

"What's burnin'?"

"Your boots, Archchancellor," said the Dean.