A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

The moment I set foot on Mictlan's campus, my brain had a full-on meltdown. Imagine a mash-up of a carnival, a university, and an otherworldly rave.

That's Mictlan—a chaotic yet oddly harmonious megahub of afterlife academia.

I barely had time to process it before Agnos, my feline companion, sauntered forward like he owned the place.

Ghostly spirits floated lazily like gossiping clouds. Skeletons bustled about, clutching scrolls and snacks that defied the laws of...everything.

Above us, a massive golden axolotl swam gracefully in a levitating aquarium, its shimmering body casting ethereal reflections across the plaza. It blinked at me with an unsettling kind of sentience before flicking its tail and continuing its loop.

A spectral figure in a sleek uniform approached, their glowing eyes narrowing at me and Agnos.

"You're not new souls," they said, their voice carrying a touch of accusation. "Why were you crossing the New Souls Terminal?"

I immediately shot a glare at Agnos, who was busy licking his paw as though he hadn't just dragged me into the cosmic equivalent of the wrong line at airport customs.

"Don't look at me," Agnos said, his tone oozing innocence. "I wasn't the one who booked the ticket."

Ah, yes. The ticket.

The one I purchased online through an app called "SoulBridge Express." Apparently, I had no idea there were three terminals connecting the Bridge of Souls to Mictlan.

Terminal 1. New Souls Terminal: For the recently deceased, straight to the Academy.

Terminal 2. Residents Terminal: For tourists and other long-term dwellers.

Terminal 3. VVVVIP Terminal: Direct access to the underworld estate of Lord Mictlan himself.

Guess which one I accidentally entered? That's right—the newbies' terminal.

"I'm, uh...not dead," I said, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck.

The guide's glowing eyes softened into something resembling pity. "Not dead? Well, you are now. Crossing the Bridge of Souls binds you to the afterlife's jurisdiction. There's no going back."

Turns out, if I had taken terminal 2 or 3, the coach would have crossed over the bridge without stopping at the edge like terminal 1 did. It's a rite of passage meant only for the dead.

"Excuse me?" My voice hit an octave I wasn't proud of.

"You bought the New Souls Terminal pass," the spectral guide had explained, his hollow eyes narrowing in annoyance. "This terminal is for recently deceased souls. Congratulations, you're now enrolled."

"Enrolled?" I'd stammered. "In what?"

"Four-year mandatory afterlife education," he replied with all the enthusiasm of someone handing out parking tickets. "Once you've crossed, the only way out is through graduation. Welcome to Mictlan Academy of Afterlife Advancement, where every soul learns to reach its full potential."

"Graduation?" I spluttered. "Four years of—no, no, no. I didn't sign up for this!"

The guide sighed. "Well…" He hesitated, and for a moment, I glimpsed a shred of sympathy in his ethereal face. "There is an express pathway. Nine days. One core course per day. But—"

"I'll take it!" I blurted, desperate to end this nightmare quickly.

The guide raised an eyebrow. "You didn't let me finish. It's nearly impossible. No one's ever completed it."

"Then I'll be the first," I said, my confidence entirely fake. "Besides, it's not like I have time for a four-year afterlife degree."

Agnos flicked his tail and smirked. "You could be lucky. Or you could die trying. Again."

********

My first impression of the campus layout?

Chaotic brilliance.

Mictlan was divided into nine sprawling levels, each designed to represent one of the ancient trials souls faced in Aztec mythology. Only now, they'd been rebranded as nine core courses.

Each course promised challenges that could either teach me profound life lessons or, more likely, leave me wishing for oblivion.

The faculty lounges were another spectacle: skeletal professors sipped steaming mugs of tamale-flavored liquid, and incorporeal students lounged on spectral beanbags, debating which course was the worst.

As for me? I was already infamous as "The Exchange Student."

I was officially the oddest oddity on campus: a living, breathing human in a school designed to refine souls.

Spirits whispered as I walked past. A group of skeletal cheerleaders openly stared, their skulls tilting in unison. One even waved.

"Why do I feel like a zoo exhibit?" I muttered to Agnos.

"Because you're alive, Carl. It's like seeing a unicorn show up to jury duty."

I groaned. "There's gotta be a way out of this, right? Some loophole?"

The guide, who had been shadowing us since our arrival, floated closer. "The express pathway: nine trials in nine days. Pass them, and you're free to leave."

"Nine days? Wish me luck."

"Good luck," he said ominously. "No one's ever passed them all. If you fail, you have to take the 4-year mandatory course. No exception."

************

The first trial—Navigating the River of Dogs—was as bizarre as it sounded. The goal? To cross a winding river with the help of a Xoloitzcuintli spirit guide.

At the riverbank, dozens of Xolos waited, their skeletal forms glowing faintly.

"Which one's mine?" I asked.

The guide pointed to the tiniest, scrappiest Xolo of the bunch. Its ribs looked half-knit, and one leg wobbled like a poorly assembled IKEA chair.

"Of course it is," I sighed.

I crouched to meet its hollow gaze. "Hey, buddy. I'm Carl. Let's… uh, crush this trial together?"

The Xolo yawned, curled up, and promptly fell asleep.

The guide smirked. "Trust is earned, not given."

What followed was a series of escalating humiliations. I coaxed, begged, and even offered the Xolo my granola bar, but it refused to budge. At one point, I slipped into the river, clinging to a log as the current dragged me downstream.

Meanwhile, my so-called guide napped under a tree.

"This is hopeless," I muttered, hauling myself onto the riverbank.

Agnos, who had been watching from a safe distance, strolled over. "Maybe the dog senses your lack of charisma."

"Not helping."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, exhaustion overtook me. I slumped against a rock, staring at the Xolo.

It padded over, sniffed my hand, and wagged its skeletal tail.

"Really? Now?" I said.

The Xolo nudged me toward the river. Together, we crossed, its tiny paws somehow finding the hidden stepping stones beneath the surface.

By the time we reached the other side, my clothes were soaked, my pride bruised, but my spirits… lifted. The Xolo sat beside me, its glowing eyes fixed on mine.

"Trust is earned," I said softly, scratching behind its spectral ears.

The guide appeared, nodding in approval. "You passed. Barely."

Agnos yawned. "One down, eight to go. Hope your next trial comes with a towel."

I shot him a glare but couldn't suppress a grin.

Nine days, nine trials. This was going to be interesting.

Just as I was about to collapse into a well-earned nap, the guide handed me a scroll.

"Your next trial begins at dawn. Be prepared."

I unrolled it, my stomach sinking as I read the title, 'Scaling the Shifting Mountain'.

"Oh, come on," I groaned.

Agnos purred smugly. "Better pack some hiking boots, Carl. This express pathway is going to be a climb."