Post by madascheese on Feb 4, 2008 15:13:34 GMT
I know I said I was putting this on hiatus, but I just had to write some more the other day...and then I got it all finished. lol 
Enjoy
*************************
Dr Murdoch, dressed in his favourite tweed suit, walked briskly into the entrance hall where his students were chatting noisily. They paid no attention to him as he made his appearance, preferring to continue their wistful conversations of the summer – it was only when he raised his hand, in the undeniable signal for quiet, that an immediate hush filled the room.
“Good morning everyone,” he said warmly, smiling broadly at the glum faces before him. “Welcome back. There will be no lessons today – “the mood lifted a little as he said those magical words – “so that you can all unpack your belongings and settle in for the new year. Classes will resume, as normal, from tomorrow morning. Now, before you all leave, I would like to introduce the newest member to our student body.” He gestured towards the quaint, rather pretty girl sat next to Mimi, who flicked her hair habitually, but enticingly all the same. Her male classmates stared, agog with wonder at the new arrival.
“Her name is Jennifer Brooks,” Murdoch continued, “and she joins us from Phoenix, Arizona. Mimi, Jennifer is your new room-mate.” Jennifer smiled gladly, though Mimi’s smile faded – did this mean that Dillan definitely wasn’t coming back?
“You’re all dismissed until 8.45 tomorrow morning; have a good day – if you have any problems, I’ll be in my office.” With that, Murdoch left them to their own devices and walked quickly back to the quiet safety of his office. The chatter resumed once again, echoing round the spacious hallway, as Mimi and her new room-mate headed towards their dormitory.
“This place sure is nice,” said Jennifer, hauling her suitcase up the staircase, which was creaking noisily under the pressure of many students with so much baggage.
Mimi stopped, pausing dramatically. “You won’t be thinking that after a few days – this place is hell.” Her face expressed a false solemnity that Jennifer had to giggle at.
“It can’t be that bad. Everyone seems really nice, even though there ain’t much choice in the way of guys, from what I’ve seen.” A few boys, who had been gearing themselves up to speak to her, to offer to carry her bags, dropped back with shyness.
Nick, the school heart-throb, laughed inwardly at this – there would definitely be no competition for him this year, he thought arrogantly. Confidently, and acting as suave and sophisticated as he could, he sidled up beside her.
“Need some help with that, li’l lady?” he said, in what turned out to be a rather bad ‘cowboy’ accent. Jenny laughed as Mimi scowled, feeling annoyed with his continual butting-in. It was going to be a long year…
“You think you can handle this suitcase, cowboy?” she asked with mock severity.
“You betcha!”
“Well, you’d better be able to handle Mimi’s too…”
“You can drop them off outside the door,” Mimi said quickly, smiling with satisfaction. “But don’t even think you can come in.” The girls dropped their suitcases on the first landing and walked up the last set of stairs to their room, giggling with glee. Nick sighed, but he would not be defeated; Malcolm wheeled his suitcase up, bumping it clumsily from stair to stair.
“Well done, Nick. Another year and you might even ‘get the girl’,” he remarked.
“Shut up, nerd,” Nick replied, puffing haughtily as he finally finished dragging the heavy bags to their destination. Mimi’s didn’t seem too bad, for a girl, but what the heck was Jenny carrying with her, he thought tiredly. He knocked on their door, hoping to see Jennifer’s bright, smiling face, but was greeted by a very brief ‘Thanks!’ from Mimi as she swung the cases into the room, shutting the door on his face. He stomped off, sulking like a rebuked child, but hopeful that this year might bring a little more action in his love-life.
“Well, welcome to your prison cell for the year,” Mimi sighed, dumping her bags and collapsing heavily onto her gorgeously carved oak-wood bed.
“Come on, it’s hardly like we’re stuck behind bars,” Jennifer replied as she tidied away her things neatly into the wardrobe. “And I’m not about to wear orange overalls - that colour does not suit me.”
“You’ll see, believe me.” Mimi had grown tired of her new room-mate already; she had none of the whimsy and romanticism that Sherry had, and was completely uninteresting in comparison to Dillan’s entertaining fierceness. She watched, absent mindedly as she packed away her belongings in neat little piles, thinking about what could have happened to her friend. She had tried to get in contact with her over summer, that much was true – no answer from her home phone or cellphone, no replies to her emails, nothing at all. It made her angry, in all honesty; and Murdoch must have known, because otherwise he wouldn’t have replaced her so soon. She sighed again, with indignation, and stared sullenly out of the window.
“You okay?” Jennifer asked gingerly. “You look kind of annoyed or something.”
“I’m fine, thanks Jennifer.”
“Call me Jenny,” she smiled back.
“Okay Jenny. So…” said Mimi, grasping for a point of conversation. “What’re you here for anyway? Being too nice or something?”
Jenny laughed, a laugh so sweet that it jingled happily around the room like wind chimes in the breeze. “Not exactly…”
“What then?” Mimi persisted, burdened with curiosity.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah, I really want to know!”
“Maybe another time…” Jenny replied, suddenly hesitant.
“Aw, come on! It can’t be that bad!”
Jenny’s expression darkened. She looked at her friend directly, eye-to-eye, with a strength most unbecoming to such a naïve seeming girl; Mimi’s eyes glazed over a little as she appeared to be held in a trance.
“You don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said forcefully. “Put it out of your mind.”
As if woken by the clicking of a hypnotist’s fingers, Mimi blinked confusedly.
“Sorry, Jenny. I think I just started daydreaming or something.” She rubbed her head, perplexed as to why her mind had gone blank all of a sudden. “What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” came the sugared reply. “Don’t worry about it.”
* * *
Karl awoke in the comforting darkness of his coffin after a slightly restless sleep. He could sense the familiar essence of his fellow night-schoolers, who had evidently returned during the early hours of the morning with the Elders. As far as he could tell, they were all still fast asleep; the room was as silent as a crypt. He lifted the lid of his coffin precariously, his body tingling with nervousness as he peered around at the walls lined with closed caskets; he really hoped none of them were awake just yet – he didn’t want to wake up to a crowd of derision. Happy that they were all safely tucked away in their sleep, he ventured out, lifting himself silently out of his death-bed. His skin prickled with warning as the daytime air brushed his pallid skin – the sun had not yet set completely, and its influence on the very particles in the air seemed to reach even the dark depths of their dungeon-like dwelling. He looked at his watch – 17:05 was the time; he wasn’t usually such an early riser, though he had not slept well at all. Thinking of what to do to while the daytime hours away, he wandered over, distractedly, to the large CCTV monitor – his ‘fly on the wall’ view of the living, breathing world above him. Sitting down comfortably in his favourite chair and hastily ignoring his body’s growing hunger, he began to watch the world above, a morose longing aching through every nerve in his body; but longing for what, exactly, he didn’t know.
He stared blankly, feeling lost in a torrent of thoughts and yet without really thinking at all, until he felt a sudden clap of hands on his shoulders; he jolted, nearly falling out of his chair as he turned around to see Marty’s grinning face.
“What’s up champ?” he laughed, smirking at his hilarious joke.
“Oh, hey Marty,” Karl replied despondently, turning back to the TV screen. “How’re you doing?”
“Not glad to be back here, but otherwise good as always – “ another, slightly winding clap on the shoulder ensued as Marty grabbed the nearest chair and seated himself, leaning back casually as he surveyed Karl’s sullen features. “How’re you doin’, daddy?”
Karl looked back at his companion with annoyance, but then he hadn’t expected any less. “Leave it, Marty – I’m not talking about it.”
“Why not?”
“Look, she won’t even speak to me – I’ve not had the best summer, so just leave me alone if that’s all you’ve got to talk about.”
“Man,” Marty replied, “Anyone would think you’d spent the summer with Drew…”
“What did you guys do for summer then?” he asked, ignoring Marty’s comment and eager to change the subject.
“We all went to Toronto, with the Elders.”
“All of you? I mean, you didn’t all get to spend some time apart or something?”
“Yep, all four of us, all together; their trying to make us not want to be solitary or something, but you know what they say about old habits. Anyway, we went to bars and stuff, practising being around humans. It was tough, and kinda weird I guess, but it was interesting. Beats this place, anyhow.”
“Sounds great,” Karl replied glumly, staring at the diminishing numbers of people on the monitor.
A current of awkwardness passed between them as the monitor hummed contentedly in the background, until Marty noticed a mortal’s face he hadn’t seen before.
“Who is that?” he asked incredulously, enchanted by the beautiful, golden haired girl who had appeared on the stairs of the academy. Karl looked too; she really was very good-looking, he had to agree.
“Must be a new student,” Karl replied.
“She is hot! Way, way hotter than Sherry…”
With unfortunate timing for Marty, Drew entered the room, scowling at him with displeasure.
“What are you talking about?” he asked bluntly, annoyed at their mention of his deceased love.
“There’s a new mortal chick, and she is fine!” Marty retorted, ignoring Drew’s irritation. “She’s mine, you guys can find someone else…” Karl laughed for the first time since Dillan had arrived.
“Whatever,” said Drew, skulking off to the table without looking at the monitor; he picked up a pencil and began to lose himself in his art.
The others awoke over the next few hours but seemed to keep to themselves, perhaps due to the extensive time they had been forced to remain together for over their supposed vacation. Essie was reading a fashion magazine she had picked up from Toronto, Canadian ‘Vogue’, flicking through the innumerable advertisements wistfully. Merrill had taken to her writing and was curled up in her open coffin, lying on it as though it were a bed, scribbling spider-like words with intense rapidity and unbreakable concentration.
Dillan was hungry. She walked around the quiet dungeon agitatedly, trying to walk it off, but to no avail. Her mind was fixated on her disturbing dream which, to her surprise, she had been able to remember perfectly – perhaps it was the excruciating sensation of burning alive, to smell the sickening scent of your own burning flesh, that had imprinted it so surely into her mind. She wandered into the antechamber where Marty and Karl were sat ogling at the TV screen.
“Um - hi,” she said a little too timidly for her own liking.
Marty spun round. “Oh, hey Dillan! Welcome to the madhouse!”
She laughed softly. “Thanks – uh, you must be Marty, right?”
“That’s me. I guess Karl told you to look for the best-looking vampire in the room, huh?”
“Well, actually – “ Karl began.
“I thought so.” Marty smiled broadly.
“So, what’s this that you’re watching?” asked Dillan.
“It’s the security camera feeds – gives us something to watch when we’re bored!” Marty replied. “We get to see everything that goes on up above, except for the locker rooms and stuff. Shame, really…”
“Yeah, Marty would love to see that new girl in there,” Karl said, grinning.
“New girl?” Dillan whirled around to look at the monitor. She saw the girl walk back up the stairs, her gilded hair shimmering in the autumn sunlight streaming through the windows, and felt a shiver of fear run through her body. It was the creature from her dream, she was sure of it.
“You okay Dillan?” Karl asked, seeing the disconcerted expression on her face.
“Yeah – yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, a little shaky. “When do we eat? I’m starving…”
* * *
A light flared in the darkened dorm room as Jenny lit a match, gently touching the blackened wick of one of her many candles. Mimi looked on, intrigued about this mysterious ritual, and finding that Jenny was a lot more interesting that she had initially thought. Her pale face was serene, but focused all the same, as she muttered breathily among the thick scents and smoke that lazily filled the room.
“So what’re you doing exactly?” Mimi asked.
Jenny sighed crossly as her concentration was broken. “Chanting.”
“What for?”
“Uh – nothing. Nothing interesting anyway,” she replied hastily. “Just give me a couple of minutes, ok?”
“Sure, no problem,” said Mimi, feeling a little uncertain.
The chanting began once again; Jenny took a clump of dried lavender and ignited it with the flame of a black candle. It smouldered, leaving the soporific smell of the flowers to fill the room. Mimi breathed deeply, suddenly feeling intensely fatigued as the smoke filled her lungs. Jennifer smiled.
“I’m gonna get some sleep now,” she said, yawning widely. “You carry on, I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, she collapsed on her bed and immediately fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
“Sweet dreams,” Jenny replied, still smiling widely as she extinguished the candle. “Works every time.”
She quickly got up and headed towards her closet; she uncovered a small, wooden chest at the bottom and, taking a small silver key from her pocket, unlocked it. From here, she removed a black, hooded cloak, a tuft of dried sage, a small flashlight and a silver necklace with a pentagram-shaped pendant. She clasped it around her neck hastily and threw the warm cotton cloak around her shoulders, fastening it tightly with a dark, onyx broach at the neck and pulled the hood up, covering her radiant, golden hair. She stuffed the sage and flashlight into a pocket and closed the wardrobe door carefully. Now she was ready. Confidently, but silently, she crept out of the dark room and out into the corridor.
The academy was still and empty as she made her way to the front exit breathlessly, the only sound being her muffled footsteps and the incessant whirr of the many CCTV cameras; but they didn’t concern her. She came to the top of the grand staircase and, murmuring a well-practised incantation, slowly waved her right hand across the darkened air. A soft, electric sputtering noise hissed around the echoing hall as every camera in the building malfunctioned simultaneously. She pressed onwards through the monochromatic building and paused for a moment at the heavy, locked door; her hand rested over the strong, steel lock and she concentrated hard, willing it to break. The thick, metal bar snapped suddenly as, with a look of self-satisfaction, Jenny opened the huge oak door, beginning her journey through the school grounds and into the cool night air, her black cloak billowing behind her.
It was a particularly dark night; the usual stars were rendered invisible as thick layers of cloud engulfed them mercilessly, though the large, full moon shone through hazily, emitting a ring of pale yellow light around it. The sky itself was the colour of deepest indigo blue, and the usually green land around her was inked with many blue-black hues – it was almost as if the sunset had drained the very earth of colour. She walked along the soft grass soundlessly as a strong gust of wind shivered through the scattered trees and through the hood of her cloak as she continued on her path towards a dense wood fringing the grounds, which shone dully in the subdued moonlight. She glanced briefly at her watch and hurried onwards, picking up the pace a little.
After a few more minutes, she finally reached her destination and, breathing heavily now, took a small flashlight from the pocket of her jeans. She turned it on, firing a strong jet of white light through the creaking trees, and entered the woods. She climbed clumsily over stray, raised tree roots threatening to trip her, and felt her way cautiously through the bristling undergrowth, occasionally finding herself grabbing the nearest rough tree trunk to help her through, until she came to a halt. A small, stone circle adorned the centre of the clearing she had entered, surrounding a pile of dried twigs and leaves. The air smelled earthen and fragrant as she sat on the hard, dry ground beneath the clouded sky and took the tuft of sage from her cloak, as well as a small scrap of parchment, both of which she placed on the firewood. She rested her hands on the rough twigs as a spark of bright, yellow light flared from her fingers, igniting the pile in an instant. She withdrew, returning her hands to her lap, and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the flames sweep over her as she breathed the delicious, burnt smell of herb and wood heavily. An ethereal wind suddenly whipped through the clearing as the parchment was reduced to nothing but ashes, pushing back her hood and blowing wildly through her hair, which shone vividly in the flickering firelight. The wind stopped as quickly as it came, and now a tall, broad creature, wearing hooded blood-red robes, was standing opposite the summoner, across the steady flames.
“Why have you called me?” said a deep, heavy voice, which rasped across the smoky air threateningly.
Jenny twitched, ever so slightly, with nervousness as she averted her eyes from the figure before her, whose face was obscured by the thick shadow cast by his hood.
“My lord,” she replied, bowing her head. “I…I need your help.”
The creature paused for a moment, surveying his follower closely. “And what is it that you need?”
“Power,” came the response. The air was unnervingly still as her master stood, emotionless and unmoving. She began to feel a wave of quiet fear spread sickeningly through her body.
“Do you not have power enough?”
“Master, what you need me to do is far beyond my current capabilities…I’ve tried – “ she found herself beginning to ramble feverishly – “I really have tried, time and time again, but I can’t do it yet. Not on purpose – I can’t control it.”
“Very well,” the figure replied coolly. “I shall give you the power you need. Come here.”
She obeyed immediately, scurrying over to her master who beckoned slowly to her. She stopped a short distance in front of him, dropping to her knees, as he lifted back his hood to reveal harsh, crimson eyes beneath a wizened, furrowed brow. He smiled as his companion recoiled, a smile of ancient and well-practised wickedness overcoming his formerly sombre expression. Two sharp, fanged teeth were easily visible in his leering grin.
“Stand up,” he commanded suddenly. She obeyed again, attempting to curtail her frightened shaking. She wondered, with some trepidation, what would happen next as she followed her lord’s beckon once again, feeling unable to resist his immense archaic power.
“Lord Shakari, what will you do with me?” she asked timidly.
He said nothing as the clouds drifted away overhead, spilling the pale gloss of moonlight over this strange ceremony. He walked towards his follower and cradled her cheek in his hand; he was ice cold to her, and hard as steel against her supple skin. Before she could imagine what would happen, she felt him on her neck – the crushing, intense pain as he began to draw drafts of her blood. She panted with pain, willing herself to trust her master no matter what, and almost bit her tongue to prevent her crying out with pain. The pain finally began to lessen, just as it nearly became too much to bear; the trees began to waver and spin around her relentlessly, and the smoke seemed to suffocate her as the vampire continued to drink.
Without warning, Shakari released her from his deathly grip, leaving her with enough blood to live, but fairly close to death nevertheless. She collapsed on the floor at his robe-covered feet, clutching her neck and gulping the scented, wooded air greedily. Her master and assailant knelt down beside her and, taking a heavy pewter knife from his robes, carefully cut into the taut, porcelain white skin of his wrist, spilling brilliant crimson blood into the milky moonlight. Jenny, who had watched the whole process with growing excitement, heaved herself with some difficulty onto her knees as Shakari proffered the wound to her. She glanced at his face briefly, feeling the fire of those scarlet eyes boring through her intently, as she lowered her mouth to the bleeding wrist and tasted his sweetly metallic blood on her tongue.
It was a peculiar sensation; the blood was oddly viscous, and was scorching hot as it ran down her parched throat. She drunk ferociously, lapping at the honeyed blood her master had so generously provided, feeling his immense power suffuse through her being as her skin tingled with utter delight. She was feeling invigorated, strong, powerful – millions of possibilities flowed through her mind deliriously, as if everything the world could ever offer was open to her, as if the world was hers forever…so long as the blood would not stop flowing; and she felt, in this moment of pure happiness, suspended in time, that it could not ever stop.
As soon as this thought crossed her ecstatic mind, the found was ripped, unceremoniously, from her mouth and held away from her fevered lust. How she longed for more!
Shakari had performed the dark ritual expertly, though he had only found himself doing it a handful of times in his many centuries of existence; he had drained her, not to the point of killing her, but to allow her to receive the immense power that dwelled in his blood. Infused with the very essence of her esteemed master she felt more alive than ever – and so very powerful; it almost made her giddy and light-headed with pure wicked joy, as it had done the very moment that his blood crossed her lips. She gazed, adoringly, at the monstrous figure before her and wiped her bloody mouth quickly with the cloak. His face was inexpressive as he watched her, acutely inanimate as a stone gargoyle, the firelight still flickering over his stolid features. He replaced his hood, giving him an unsettling faceless appearance once again.
“Thank you, my lord, thank you,” she said quietly. “I know I will be ready soon.”
“Be sure that you are,” Shakari rasped, allowing his voice to slither, snake-like, amongst the rustling wind. “I will not be so generous next time.”
He turned from her without another word as, noiselessly, he disappeared as if he had never been there at all. Jenny closed her cool eyelids as she remembered the sensation of her revered master’s blood slipping deliciously down her throat. How she admired him, the stoic Lord Shakari – she was completely and utterly devoted to him. He had come to her aid; sheltered her, advised her and helped her to understand the true potential of her powers.
Her watch beeped noisily, interrupting her peaceful reminiscence – 4am? She started, jumping to her feet as she threw tufts of earth onto the dying fire, reducing it to a small mound of smouldering embers as the smoke drifted hazily into the greying dawn. She scrambled out of the trees once more, taking care not to trip over the tangled, protruding roots and half-walked, half-ran back to the academy with joyous, boundless energy, before the impending sunrise could give her away.
Enjoy
*************************
Dr Murdoch, dressed in his favourite tweed suit, walked briskly into the entrance hall where his students were chatting noisily. They paid no attention to him as he made his appearance, preferring to continue their wistful conversations of the summer – it was only when he raised his hand, in the undeniable signal for quiet, that an immediate hush filled the room.
“Good morning everyone,” he said warmly, smiling broadly at the glum faces before him. “Welcome back. There will be no lessons today – “the mood lifted a little as he said those magical words – “so that you can all unpack your belongings and settle in for the new year. Classes will resume, as normal, from tomorrow morning. Now, before you all leave, I would like to introduce the newest member to our student body.” He gestured towards the quaint, rather pretty girl sat next to Mimi, who flicked her hair habitually, but enticingly all the same. Her male classmates stared, agog with wonder at the new arrival.
“Her name is Jennifer Brooks,” Murdoch continued, “and she joins us from Phoenix, Arizona. Mimi, Jennifer is your new room-mate.” Jennifer smiled gladly, though Mimi’s smile faded – did this mean that Dillan definitely wasn’t coming back?
“You’re all dismissed until 8.45 tomorrow morning; have a good day – if you have any problems, I’ll be in my office.” With that, Murdoch left them to their own devices and walked quickly back to the quiet safety of his office. The chatter resumed once again, echoing round the spacious hallway, as Mimi and her new room-mate headed towards their dormitory.
“This place sure is nice,” said Jennifer, hauling her suitcase up the staircase, which was creaking noisily under the pressure of many students with so much baggage.
Mimi stopped, pausing dramatically. “You won’t be thinking that after a few days – this place is hell.” Her face expressed a false solemnity that Jennifer had to giggle at.
“It can’t be that bad. Everyone seems really nice, even though there ain’t much choice in the way of guys, from what I’ve seen.” A few boys, who had been gearing themselves up to speak to her, to offer to carry her bags, dropped back with shyness.
Nick, the school heart-throb, laughed inwardly at this – there would definitely be no competition for him this year, he thought arrogantly. Confidently, and acting as suave and sophisticated as he could, he sidled up beside her.
“Need some help with that, li’l lady?” he said, in what turned out to be a rather bad ‘cowboy’ accent. Jenny laughed as Mimi scowled, feeling annoyed with his continual butting-in. It was going to be a long year…
“You think you can handle this suitcase, cowboy?” she asked with mock severity.
“You betcha!”
“Well, you’d better be able to handle Mimi’s too…”
“You can drop them off outside the door,” Mimi said quickly, smiling with satisfaction. “But don’t even think you can come in.” The girls dropped their suitcases on the first landing and walked up the last set of stairs to their room, giggling with glee. Nick sighed, but he would not be defeated; Malcolm wheeled his suitcase up, bumping it clumsily from stair to stair.
“Well done, Nick. Another year and you might even ‘get the girl’,” he remarked.
“Shut up, nerd,” Nick replied, puffing haughtily as he finally finished dragging the heavy bags to their destination. Mimi’s didn’t seem too bad, for a girl, but what the heck was Jenny carrying with her, he thought tiredly. He knocked on their door, hoping to see Jennifer’s bright, smiling face, but was greeted by a very brief ‘Thanks!’ from Mimi as she swung the cases into the room, shutting the door on his face. He stomped off, sulking like a rebuked child, but hopeful that this year might bring a little more action in his love-life.
“Well, welcome to your prison cell for the year,” Mimi sighed, dumping her bags and collapsing heavily onto her gorgeously carved oak-wood bed.
“Come on, it’s hardly like we’re stuck behind bars,” Jennifer replied as she tidied away her things neatly into the wardrobe. “And I’m not about to wear orange overalls - that colour does not suit me.”
“You’ll see, believe me.” Mimi had grown tired of her new room-mate already; she had none of the whimsy and romanticism that Sherry had, and was completely uninteresting in comparison to Dillan’s entertaining fierceness. She watched, absent mindedly as she packed away her belongings in neat little piles, thinking about what could have happened to her friend. She had tried to get in contact with her over summer, that much was true – no answer from her home phone or cellphone, no replies to her emails, nothing at all. It made her angry, in all honesty; and Murdoch must have known, because otherwise he wouldn’t have replaced her so soon. She sighed again, with indignation, and stared sullenly out of the window.
“You okay?” Jennifer asked gingerly. “You look kind of annoyed or something.”
“I’m fine, thanks Jennifer.”
“Call me Jenny,” she smiled back.
“Okay Jenny. So…” said Mimi, grasping for a point of conversation. “What’re you here for anyway? Being too nice or something?”
Jenny laughed, a laugh so sweet that it jingled happily around the room like wind chimes in the breeze. “Not exactly…”
“What then?” Mimi persisted, burdened with curiosity.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah, I really want to know!”
“Maybe another time…” Jenny replied, suddenly hesitant.
“Aw, come on! It can’t be that bad!”
Jenny’s expression darkened. She looked at her friend directly, eye-to-eye, with a strength most unbecoming to such a naïve seeming girl; Mimi’s eyes glazed over a little as she appeared to be held in a trance.
“You don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said forcefully. “Put it out of your mind.”
As if woken by the clicking of a hypnotist’s fingers, Mimi blinked confusedly.
“Sorry, Jenny. I think I just started daydreaming or something.” She rubbed her head, perplexed as to why her mind had gone blank all of a sudden. “What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” came the sugared reply. “Don’t worry about it.”
* * *
Karl awoke in the comforting darkness of his coffin after a slightly restless sleep. He could sense the familiar essence of his fellow night-schoolers, who had evidently returned during the early hours of the morning with the Elders. As far as he could tell, they were all still fast asleep; the room was as silent as a crypt. He lifted the lid of his coffin precariously, his body tingling with nervousness as he peered around at the walls lined with closed caskets; he really hoped none of them were awake just yet – he didn’t want to wake up to a crowd of derision. Happy that they were all safely tucked away in their sleep, he ventured out, lifting himself silently out of his death-bed. His skin prickled with warning as the daytime air brushed his pallid skin – the sun had not yet set completely, and its influence on the very particles in the air seemed to reach even the dark depths of their dungeon-like dwelling. He looked at his watch – 17:05 was the time; he wasn’t usually such an early riser, though he had not slept well at all. Thinking of what to do to while the daytime hours away, he wandered over, distractedly, to the large CCTV monitor – his ‘fly on the wall’ view of the living, breathing world above him. Sitting down comfortably in his favourite chair and hastily ignoring his body’s growing hunger, he began to watch the world above, a morose longing aching through every nerve in his body; but longing for what, exactly, he didn’t know.
He stared blankly, feeling lost in a torrent of thoughts and yet without really thinking at all, until he felt a sudden clap of hands on his shoulders; he jolted, nearly falling out of his chair as he turned around to see Marty’s grinning face.
“What’s up champ?” he laughed, smirking at his hilarious joke.
“Oh, hey Marty,” Karl replied despondently, turning back to the TV screen. “How’re you doing?”
“Not glad to be back here, but otherwise good as always – “ another, slightly winding clap on the shoulder ensued as Marty grabbed the nearest chair and seated himself, leaning back casually as he surveyed Karl’s sullen features. “How’re you doin’, daddy?”
Karl looked back at his companion with annoyance, but then he hadn’t expected any less. “Leave it, Marty – I’m not talking about it.”
“Why not?”
“Look, she won’t even speak to me – I’ve not had the best summer, so just leave me alone if that’s all you’ve got to talk about.”
“Man,” Marty replied, “Anyone would think you’d spent the summer with Drew…”
“What did you guys do for summer then?” he asked, ignoring Marty’s comment and eager to change the subject.
“We all went to Toronto, with the Elders.”
“All of you? I mean, you didn’t all get to spend some time apart or something?”
“Yep, all four of us, all together; their trying to make us not want to be solitary or something, but you know what they say about old habits. Anyway, we went to bars and stuff, practising being around humans. It was tough, and kinda weird I guess, but it was interesting. Beats this place, anyhow.”
“Sounds great,” Karl replied glumly, staring at the diminishing numbers of people on the monitor.
A current of awkwardness passed between them as the monitor hummed contentedly in the background, until Marty noticed a mortal’s face he hadn’t seen before.
“Who is that?” he asked incredulously, enchanted by the beautiful, golden haired girl who had appeared on the stairs of the academy. Karl looked too; she really was very good-looking, he had to agree.
“Must be a new student,” Karl replied.
“She is hot! Way, way hotter than Sherry…”
With unfortunate timing for Marty, Drew entered the room, scowling at him with displeasure.
“What are you talking about?” he asked bluntly, annoyed at their mention of his deceased love.
“There’s a new mortal chick, and she is fine!” Marty retorted, ignoring Drew’s irritation. “She’s mine, you guys can find someone else…” Karl laughed for the first time since Dillan had arrived.
“Whatever,” said Drew, skulking off to the table without looking at the monitor; he picked up a pencil and began to lose himself in his art.
The others awoke over the next few hours but seemed to keep to themselves, perhaps due to the extensive time they had been forced to remain together for over their supposed vacation. Essie was reading a fashion magazine she had picked up from Toronto, Canadian ‘Vogue’, flicking through the innumerable advertisements wistfully. Merrill had taken to her writing and was curled up in her open coffin, lying on it as though it were a bed, scribbling spider-like words with intense rapidity and unbreakable concentration.
Dillan was hungry. She walked around the quiet dungeon agitatedly, trying to walk it off, but to no avail. Her mind was fixated on her disturbing dream which, to her surprise, she had been able to remember perfectly – perhaps it was the excruciating sensation of burning alive, to smell the sickening scent of your own burning flesh, that had imprinted it so surely into her mind. She wandered into the antechamber where Marty and Karl were sat ogling at the TV screen.
“Um - hi,” she said a little too timidly for her own liking.
Marty spun round. “Oh, hey Dillan! Welcome to the madhouse!”
She laughed softly. “Thanks – uh, you must be Marty, right?”
“That’s me. I guess Karl told you to look for the best-looking vampire in the room, huh?”
“Well, actually – “ Karl began.
“I thought so.” Marty smiled broadly.
“So, what’s this that you’re watching?” asked Dillan.
“It’s the security camera feeds – gives us something to watch when we’re bored!” Marty replied. “We get to see everything that goes on up above, except for the locker rooms and stuff. Shame, really…”
“Yeah, Marty would love to see that new girl in there,” Karl said, grinning.
“New girl?” Dillan whirled around to look at the monitor. She saw the girl walk back up the stairs, her gilded hair shimmering in the autumn sunlight streaming through the windows, and felt a shiver of fear run through her body. It was the creature from her dream, she was sure of it.
“You okay Dillan?” Karl asked, seeing the disconcerted expression on her face.
“Yeah – yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, a little shaky. “When do we eat? I’m starving…”
* * *
A light flared in the darkened dorm room as Jenny lit a match, gently touching the blackened wick of one of her many candles. Mimi looked on, intrigued about this mysterious ritual, and finding that Jenny was a lot more interesting that she had initially thought. Her pale face was serene, but focused all the same, as she muttered breathily among the thick scents and smoke that lazily filled the room.
“So what’re you doing exactly?” Mimi asked.
Jenny sighed crossly as her concentration was broken. “Chanting.”
“What for?”
“Uh – nothing. Nothing interesting anyway,” she replied hastily. “Just give me a couple of minutes, ok?”
“Sure, no problem,” said Mimi, feeling a little uncertain.
The chanting began once again; Jenny took a clump of dried lavender and ignited it with the flame of a black candle. It smouldered, leaving the soporific smell of the flowers to fill the room. Mimi breathed deeply, suddenly feeling intensely fatigued as the smoke filled her lungs. Jennifer smiled.
“I’m gonna get some sleep now,” she said, yawning widely. “You carry on, I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, she collapsed on her bed and immediately fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
“Sweet dreams,” Jenny replied, still smiling widely as she extinguished the candle. “Works every time.”
She quickly got up and headed towards her closet; she uncovered a small, wooden chest at the bottom and, taking a small silver key from her pocket, unlocked it. From here, she removed a black, hooded cloak, a tuft of dried sage, a small flashlight and a silver necklace with a pentagram-shaped pendant. She clasped it around her neck hastily and threw the warm cotton cloak around her shoulders, fastening it tightly with a dark, onyx broach at the neck and pulled the hood up, covering her radiant, golden hair. She stuffed the sage and flashlight into a pocket and closed the wardrobe door carefully. Now she was ready. Confidently, but silently, she crept out of the dark room and out into the corridor.
The academy was still and empty as she made her way to the front exit breathlessly, the only sound being her muffled footsteps and the incessant whirr of the many CCTV cameras; but they didn’t concern her. She came to the top of the grand staircase and, murmuring a well-practised incantation, slowly waved her right hand across the darkened air. A soft, electric sputtering noise hissed around the echoing hall as every camera in the building malfunctioned simultaneously. She pressed onwards through the monochromatic building and paused for a moment at the heavy, locked door; her hand rested over the strong, steel lock and she concentrated hard, willing it to break. The thick, metal bar snapped suddenly as, with a look of self-satisfaction, Jenny opened the huge oak door, beginning her journey through the school grounds and into the cool night air, her black cloak billowing behind her.
It was a particularly dark night; the usual stars were rendered invisible as thick layers of cloud engulfed them mercilessly, though the large, full moon shone through hazily, emitting a ring of pale yellow light around it. The sky itself was the colour of deepest indigo blue, and the usually green land around her was inked with many blue-black hues – it was almost as if the sunset had drained the very earth of colour. She walked along the soft grass soundlessly as a strong gust of wind shivered through the scattered trees and through the hood of her cloak as she continued on her path towards a dense wood fringing the grounds, which shone dully in the subdued moonlight. She glanced briefly at her watch and hurried onwards, picking up the pace a little.
After a few more minutes, she finally reached her destination and, breathing heavily now, took a small flashlight from the pocket of her jeans. She turned it on, firing a strong jet of white light through the creaking trees, and entered the woods. She climbed clumsily over stray, raised tree roots threatening to trip her, and felt her way cautiously through the bristling undergrowth, occasionally finding herself grabbing the nearest rough tree trunk to help her through, until she came to a halt. A small, stone circle adorned the centre of the clearing she had entered, surrounding a pile of dried twigs and leaves. The air smelled earthen and fragrant as she sat on the hard, dry ground beneath the clouded sky and took the tuft of sage from her cloak, as well as a small scrap of parchment, both of which she placed on the firewood. She rested her hands on the rough twigs as a spark of bright, yellow light flared from her fingers, igniting the pile in an instant. She withdrew, returning her hands to her lap, and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the flames sweep over her as she breathed the delicious, burnt smell of herb and wood heavily. An ethereal wind suddenly whipped through the clearing as the parchment was reduced to nothing but ashes, pushing back her hood and blowing wildly through her hair, which shone vividly in the flickering firelight. The wind stopped as quickly as it came, and now a tall, broad creature, wearing hooded blood-red robes, was standing opposite the summoner, across the steady flames.
“Why have you called me?” said a deep, heavy voice, which rasped across the smoky air threateningly.
Jenny twitched, ever so slightly, with nervousness as she averted her eyes from the figure before her, whose face was obscured by the thick shadow cast by his hood.
“My lord,” she replied, bowing her head. “I…I need your help.”
The creature paused for a moment, surveying his follower closely. “And what is it that you need?”
“Power,” came the response. The air was unnervingly still as her master stood, emotionless and unmoving. She began to feel a wave of quiet fear spread sickeningly through her body.
“Do you not have power enough?”
“Master, what you need me to do is far beyond my current capabilities…I’ve tried – “ she found herself beginning to ramble feverishly – “I really have tried, time and time again, but I can’t do it yet. Not on purpose – I can’t control it.”
“Very well,” the figure replied coolly. “I shall give you the power you need. Come here.”
She obeyed immediately, scurrying over to her master who beckoned slowly to her. She stopped a short distance in front of him, dropping to her knees, as he lifted back his hood to reveal harsh, crimson eyes beneath a wizened, furrowed brow. He smiled as his companion recoiled, a smile of ancient and well-practised wickedness overcoming his formerly sombre expression. Two sharp, fanged teeth were easily visible in his leering grin.
“Stand up,” he commanded suddenly. She obeyed again, attempting to curtail her frightened shaking. She wondered, with some trepidation, what would happen next as she followed her lord’s beckon once again, feeling unable to resist his immense archaic power.
“Lord Shakari, what will you do with me?” she asked timidly.
He said nothing as the clouds drifted away overhead, spilling the pale gloss of moonlight over this strange ceremony. He walked towards his follower and cradled her cheek in his hand; he was ice cold to her, and hard as steel against her supple skin. Before she could imagine what would happen, she felt him on her neck – the crushing, intense pain as he began to draw drafts of her blood. She panted with pain, willing herself to trust her master no matter what, and almost bit her tongue to prevent her crying out with pain. The pain finally began to lessen, just as it nearly became too much to bear; the trees began to waver and spin around her relentlessly, and the smoke seemed to suffocate her as the vampire continued to drink.
Without warning, Shakari released her from his deathly grip, leaving her with enough blood to live, but fairly close to death nevertheless. She collapsed on the floor at his robe-covered feet, clutching her neck and gulping the scented, wooded air greedily. Her master and assailant knelt down beside her and, taking a heavy pewter knife from his robes, carefully cut into the taut, porcelain white skin of his wrist, spilling brilliant crimson blood into the milky moonlight. Jenny, who had watched the whole process with growing excitement, heaved herself with some difficulty onto her knees as Shakari proffered the wound to her. She glanced at his face briefly, feeling the fire of those scarlet eyes boring through her intently, as she lowered her mouth to the bleeding wrist and tasted his sweetly metallic blood on her tongue.
It was a peculiar sensation; the blood was oddly viscous, and was scorching hot as it ran down her parched throat. She drunk ferociously, lapping at the honeyed blood her master had so generously provided, feeling his immense power suffuse through her being as her skin tingled with utter delight. She was feeling invigorated, strong, powerful – millions of possibilities flowed through her mind deliriously, as if everything the world could ever offer was open to her, as if the world was hers forever…so long as the blood would not stop flowing; and she felt, in this moment of pure happiness, suspended in time, that it could not ever stop.
As soon as this thought crossed her ecstatic mind, the found was ripped, unceremoniously, from her mouth and held away from her fevered lust. How she longed for more!
Shakari had performed the dark ritual expertly, though he had only found himself doing it a handful of times in his many centuries of existence; he had drained her, not to the point of killing her, but to allow her to receive the immense power that dwelled in his blood. Infused with the very essence of her esteemed master she felt more alive than ever – and so very powerful; it almost made her giddy and light-headed with pure wicked joy, as it had done the very moment that his blood crossed her lips. She gazed, adoringly, at the monstrous figure before her and wiped her bloody mouth quickly with the cloak. His face was inexpressive as he watched her, acutely inanimate as a stone gargoyle, the firelight still flickering over his stolid features. He replaced his hood, giving him an unsettling faceless appearance once again.
“Thank you, my lord, thank you,” she said quietly. “I know I will be ready soon.”
“Be sure that you are,” Shakari rasped, allowing his voice to slither, snake-like, amongst the rustling wind. “I will not be so generous next time.”
He turned from her without another word as, noiselessly, he disappeared as if he had never been there at all. Jenny closed her cool eyelids as she remembered the sensation of her revered master’s blood slipping deliciously down her throat. How she admired him, the stoic Lord Shakari – she was completely and utterly devoted to him. He had come to her aid; sheltered her, advised her and helped her to understand the true potential of her powers.
Her watch beeped noisily, interrupting her peaceful reminiscence – 4am? She started, jumping to her feet as she threw tufts of earth onto the dying fire, reducing it to a small mound of smouldering embers as the smoke drifted hazily into the greying dawn. She scrambled out of the trees once more, taking care not to trip over the tangled, protruding roots and half-walked, half-ran back to the academy with joyous, boundless energy, before the impending sunrise could give her away.
