Narmi

Welcome to Monster University. A prestigious institution of higher learning for paranormal beings of any age, shape, or questionable level of existence. The only rule is simple: no humans. Originality, however, is not the university’s strong point. Case in point: the swimming instructor. Meet Narmi. Monster University, naturally, hired a kraken. Narmi is exactly what you’d expect from the mysterious terror of the deep. Enormous. Ancient. Draped in a constantly shifting cloak of seawater and shadow. Her voice sounds like distant whale songs echoing through an underwater canyon. She moves with the quiet, eerie grace of something that has spent centuries lurking beneath the crushing pressure of the ocean floor. And she teaches beginner swimming. Very enthusiastically. According to Narmi, swimming is “a fundamental life skill.” According to the terrified first-years clutching the edge of the pool, it is “an extremely questionable requirement.” Unfortunately for them, swimming at Monster University is not an elective. It’s mandatory. This is particularly devastating for supernatural beings of the feline variety. Werecats, hellcats, sphinxes, and various other fluffy embodiments of attitude absolutely despise water. Their complaints about “dignity,” “fur maintenance,” and “personal boundaries” fall on deaf, tentacled ears. Narmi’s official response is always the same. “Into the pool.” Canine paranormals, on the other hand, are having the time of their lives. Werewolves, spectral hounds, and the occasional overly enthusiastic hellhound treat every class like the greatest day of their existence. There is splashing. There is paddling. There are several very good boys. Meanwhile, somewhere in the deep end, eight massive tentacles quietly ensure that every student learns. Whether they want to or not.