Monster Problems: Vampire Misfire

by R. L. Ullman

  HAIRBALL

  Behind him is a skinny kid who makes me do a double take. He sort of looks like that fish guy in the Creature from the Black Lagoon movie. He has green scaly skin, black eyes and large pointy ears. His entire head is encased in a round helmet, just like an astronaut, except his is filled with water. Gill-like flaps open and close on the sides of his neck. His badge reads:

  STANPHIBIAN

  To the girl’s right is a kid wrapped in white bandages from head to toe, except for a giant pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. What’s up with this guy? Is he trying to be a mummy or something? Anyway, his badge reads:

  INVISIBILL

  Finally, a smaller boy with rosy cheeks, messy blond hair, and a worried expression peers cautiously around the bandaged kid. He’s wearing blue-rimmed glasses with a cord connected to each earpiece. Compared to the rest of them he looks downright normal. But for some reason his badge says:

  RAGE

  Rage? Why is that little guy called Rage? And Aura? Hairball? Stanphibian? InvisiBill? Are these their real names?

  Strangely, they’re all staring at me, like I’m the weird one. Unfortunately, I can’t even stand up because I’m totally wiped out. And I still don’t know how I managed that last burst of speed considering I’m running on fumes. All I know is that I’m breathing hard and feeling incredibly woozy.

  “He ruined everything!” Hairball says.

  “Yeah,” InvisiBill says. “It took Stanphibian over an hour to get that block up there.”

  “Two hours,” the fish-kid says, with a sad fish face.

  “Okay, dude,” Aura says. “You ruined our training exercise. Now spill it, who the heck are you?”

  “Do you even go here?” Rage asks.

  “Of course he doesn’t go here, bonehead,” Aura says. “He’s not wearing a house badge.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t trying to ruin anything. I just thought she… she…”

  Suddenly, I’m not feeling so good. My skin feels hot, like it’s on fire. Then, my stomach starts quivering like I’m going to… to…

  “Oh god, he’s hurling!” Hairball says.

  “So nasty!” InvisiBill says, blocking his sunglasses.

  “Shut it, you morons,” Aura says. “He needs help. Someone get a bucket.”

  “On it,” Rage says, running off.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m in a full sweat and my body is shaking like a leaf. Oh no. Not again! Here it—

  “Seriously?” Hairball says. “You know, I can’t unsee this.”

  This is so embarrassing, but I can’t stop myself.

  Finally, Rage shows up with a bucket, pushing it in front of me with his foot.

  “Here you go,” he says.

  “T-Thanks,” I say, wiping my chin. Everything starts spinning and I pull the bucket close.

  “You okay?” Aura asks.

  “N-N-No,” I stammer. Everything is definitely not okay. I close my eyes, but the spinning sensation doesn’t stop. In fact, it’s only getting worse, like I’m on a roller coaster and can’t get off.

  When I open my eyes, the kids are still there, but they look like they’re upside down. Aura’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

  Then, everything goes dark.

  ***

  “He sure doesn’t look like a vampire,” comes a boy’s voice. “He doesn’t even have fangs. Aren’t vampires supposed to have fangs?”

  “His ears are pointy,” a girl says. “But I think they’re too big for his head.”

  Now hang on a minute! I don’t know who’s talking, but I’m not going to just stand here and be insulted. I try opening my eyes, but my head is pounding. Then I realize I’m not standing at all. In fact, I’m lying down on something soft. Where am I?

  Then, I remember. The gymnasium. Those strange kids. Ugh, I must have passed out. As if that whole scene wasn’t humiliating enough.

  “Still,” the boy says. “He doesn’t look like a vampire.”

  “You of all people should know you don’t have to look like a monster to be a monster?” the girl says.

  “True,” the boy says. “But fangs would be cool.”

  Okay, that’s enough. I force my eyes open and, to my surprise, the first thing I see is a red tube sticking out of my arm. What’s that? Is someone drugging me?

  Instinctively, I reach up to pull it out.

  “He’s awake!” the girl yells. “Doctor!”

  Suddenly, I feel someone pulling my arm back. It’s that Rage kid. And Aura’s floating behind him.

  “Stop it!” Rage yells. “They’re feeding you through that tube!”

  Feeding me?

  “So, you’re not drugging me?” I ask.

  “No,” Rage says. “That tube is pumping tomato puree into your system.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Really? My bad.” Wait a minute, how did they know to give me red food?

  “Chill, Bram,” Aura says. “You’re safe here. They know what you need.”

  “How do you know my name?” I ask.

  “Headmaster Van Helsing told us,” she says.

  Van Helsing? I guess my face betrays me, because then she says, “He’s a good man. We know what you’re going through and trust us, you’re safe here. Okay?”

  I don’t know why, but when I look into her blue eyes, I feel calmer. Rage lets go of my arm.

  “Where am I?” I ask.

  “The infirmary,” Aura says. “You were in really bad shape, but now you’ve got a little color in your cheeks, which isn’t bad for a vampire.”

  I must admit I’m feeling a lot better. I guess I pushed myself too hard. I’d never reacted like that before.

  “How’s the patient?” comes a woman’s voice.

  I turn, and my eyes bulge out of their sockets.

  A woman with jet black hair, green skin, and a giant wart on her nose is checking my vital signs. She looks like a… a….

  “I’m Dr. Hagella,” she says. “And yes, I’m a witch. But I’m also a doctor, which technically makes me a witch doctor.” She cackles loudly. “I know, it never gets old. How are you feeling, young man?”

  “Better,” I say, smiling reluctantly.

  “Great,” Dr. Hagella says, adjusting the feeding tube. “Your blood count was low. Probably because you hadn’t eaten for days. You can’t go that long without food.”

  “I wasn’t trying to,” I say. “It just happened.”

  “The vampire-side of your physiology requires you to constantly produce red blood cells. When you don’t eat, it slows the production of blood cells leading to aplastic anemia, which can cause dizziness, vomiting, and possibly death. So, you’d better make sure to eat something every few hours.”

  Well, I didn’t know that. But I guess that explains my delusional state when I was trapped in that dungeon at the New England Home for Troubled Boys.

  “Dr. Hagella is the best,” Rage says. “She knows everything.”

  “Thanks, dear,” Dr. Hagella says, patting Rage’s head. Then, she turns to me and says, “I’m feeding you with enriched tomato puree. It contains additional proteins that should help your bone marrow start producing red blood cells at a faster rate. Now you need your rest. Hint, hint, little monsters, it’s time to leave the patient alone. Don’t worry, I’ll check on him later.”

  Dr. Hagella scoops up a few papers and leaves.

  “Okay, we’ll let you rest,” Rage says. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. Aura and I need to head back to Monster House anyway to get back to work.”

  “Um, what’s Monster House?” I ask.

  “It’s the name of the Residence Hall,” Rage says. “It’s where we live.”

  “Wait,” I say. “You guys live here?”

  “Yep,” Aura says. “The Van Helsing Academy is our school and our home. It’s the only place in the world for kids like us.”

  “And what kinds of kids are those?” I ask.

  “Supernatural k
ids,” she says. “Just like you.”

  “Yeah,” Rage says. “Maybe you’ll stick around.”

  “Um, maybe,” I say.

  “Great,” Rage says. “Well, good luck.”

  “Hope you recover,” Aura says. “We’ll probably be up all-night practicing that rescue mission you screwed up for us. We have a test on it tomorrow.”

  “Sorry about that,” I say.

  “Not as sorry as we are,” Aura says. Then she disappears through the wall.

  Rage shrugs his shoulders and walks out the door.

  I’m alone. And totally confused.

  Maybe I’m dreaming, but even this is too bizarre. I mean, monster kids? And Aura said this place is not just their school, but also their home. I mean, I’ve lived in houses before, but never one that felt like a home.

  But I know I can’t stay here.

  This place just isn’t for me.

  “Have you forgiven me yet?” comes a man’s voice.

  Startled, I look up to find Van Helsing standing in the doorway, still wearing his winter gear. The last thing I want is to talk to him.

  “The doctor said I needed rest,” I say.

  “She’s right,” Van Helsing says, entering the room anyway. He takes the seat Rage vacated and adds, “She’s an expert on monster biology.”

  Monster biology? Wait a minute!

  “Are you calling me a monster?”

  “I am,” he says. “And you should get used to it. It is what the world outside will come to know you as. You are different, and you will always be different.”

  “I’m no monster,” I say.

  “No,” Van Helsing says. “I do not think so either. In fact, I do not know of many monsters who would try to save the life of an innocent girl. That shows me that you are far from a monster. You are a hero.”

  “A hero?” I scoff. “I’m no hero.”

  “Helping those that cannot help themselves is the definition of a hero,” Van Helsing says. “You acted because you believed she needed help, and I am here because I also need your help. And I believe you need mine.”

  “I don’t need anything from you,” I say.

  “You may not think so,” Van Helsing says. “At least not now. But when the Dark Ones come for you, and come they will, you may feel differently.”

  Images of werewolves flash in my brain, and I know he’s right. I mean, what chance do I have out there on my own? I already know the answer.

  None.

  “Bram,” he continues. “I built this place to be a sanctuary for Supernaturals like you. Danger lies outside these walls. There are monsters, but there are also men who behave like monsters. Men who will stop at nothing to destroy you, or to use you to get what they want. Here you will be safe. Here you will learn to master your skills and properly prepare for the war that is coming.”

  “I don’t want to fight in any war,” I say.

  “Neither do I,” Van Helsing says. “But it is an unavoidable war. It is our responsibility to do something about it, not because we can, but because we must. There are far too many innocent lives at stake. But we cannot win this war without you.”

  “Why not?” I ask. “You’re training all these other kids. Why do you need me?”

  “Because you are special,” Van Helsing says.

  “And why’s that?” I ask.

  “You are the last of the vampires,” Van Helsing says. “You bring special skills no one else can duplicate. You are essential to defeating Count Dracula.”

  “B-But how?” I ask, my heart suddenly racing.

  Just then, the monitor over my head starts BEEPING.

  “What’s happening?” Dr. Hagella asks, rushing in. “Headmaster, are you over-exciting our patient?”

  “I am educating our patient,” Van Helsing says, standing up. “Bram, I will explain more when you are stronger. But neither of us should forget the Dark Ones are gathering strength as we speak. We cannot sit back and let them take over the world. It is up to us to stop them. We need you on our side. Will you join us?”

  Van Helsing looks me in the eyes and extends his hand, and a million things jump into my head at once.

  The parents I never knew.

  Johnny and those innocent kids at the foster home.

  Aura, Rage and the other strange kids here.

  All of my failed foster families.

  It’s a weird feeling. I mean, I’ve never been wanted before. I’ve never been part of a team.

  But what if I fail?

  Well, I guess if I fail, I’ll be toast one way or the other. So, what do I have to lose?

  I reach out and shake Van Helsing’s hand.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  THE MONSTROSITIES AND ME

  The next morning I’m officially discharged from the infirmary. Dr. Hagella said I looked appropriately peaked for a vampire and sent me straight to the admissions office located in the building next door.

  As I step onto the quad, the scene is totally different from when I first arrived at the Van Helsing Academy. This time the sun is shining, and dozens of students are walking across the green wearing backpacks and carrying books. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was strolling through the campus of your average, upscale school.

  Except, there’s one little thing shattering the illusion.

  All of the kids are monsters.

  Now for some of the kids, it’s not so easy to tell. You really have to look closely to find an unusual feature or two, like claws, horns, or a tail. But for other kids, you know right away they’re different.

  Very different.

  Like the girl running across the green covered head-to-toe in some kind of bluish armor. Or the kid lying on his back who looks like a cross between a boy and a monitor lizard. There’s even a guy flying overhead with giant wings.

  It dawns on me that if I were anywhere else, I’d have bolted by now. So, I guess I’m getting used to it.

  Sort of.

  Then, I notice they’re all wearing badges like Aura and Rage, but in different colors. Some badges are bronze and others are blue or green. I wonder what the colors mean?

  Because the sun is shining, I don’t want to linger too long or I’ll get a major sunburn. So, per Dr. Hagella’s instructions, I follow the driveway to the large building on the right. According to her, this is the Residence Hall where the students live year-round.

  The place Rage called ‘Monster House.’

  As I climb the stone steps, I feel a sense of awe. The group homes I’ve been crashing in are dumps compared to this place. I mean, the outside has the same pristine, ivy-league feeling as the other buildings, with red brick, white window frames, and perfectly trimmed hedges.

  But as I approach the large double doors I stop.

  I mean, do I really belong here?

  I guess I’ll find out. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go anyways. So, I pull open the large double doors, step inside, and gasp.

  The entrance hall is so enormous I think I could fit two group homes inside of it. My eyes wander from the dark wood walls, to the white marble floors, to the large windows letting in lots of natural light. There’s an extra-wide staircase leading upstairs, and the room is outfitted with comfy sofas and chairs. There’s also a big bulletin board filled with flyers. I squint to read one. It says:

  MOVIE NIGHT DOUBLE FEATURE

  TEEN WOLF & TEEN WOLF 2

  THIS THURSDAY

  Movie night? Okay, I can get used to this! Well, I can say one thing, these students certainly aren’t slumming it.

  Then, I notice a familiar looking banner hanging on the back wall. It’s the Van Helsing Academy crest with that strange motto:

  YOU MUST BELIEVE IN THINGS YOU CANNOT IMAGINE.

  I suppose it makes a little more sense now. To my left is a door with a sign for the Admissions Office. Bingo. Well, I guess it’s time to make it official. I walk over, step inside, and nearly faint.

 
Standing behind the counter is the largest “person” I’ve ever seen. She’s bald, with humungous shoulders, and one giant red eye sitting smack in the middle of her forehead. She’s wearing a long, blue tunic and bright red lipstick.

  I open my mouth to say hello, but no words come out. She must be, like, twenty feet tall. But then I realize she isn’t even standing, she’s sitting!

  The nameplate on the counter reads:

  MS. VIOLET CLOPS

  MONSTER HALL RESIDENT MANAGER

  “Alright, stop yer gawkin’,” she says, in a surprisingly deep voice. “I can see yer, y’know?”

  “I-I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I didn’t mean… It’s just that…”

  “Keep your flap shut before yer say somethin’ yer gonna regret,” she says. “My name’s Ms. Clops. But after a week, if I haven’t eaten yer, yer can call me ‘Vi.’ Yer must be Murray, the new kid.”

  I’m about to tell her my last name is Matthews, when I remember it’s not. This is going to take some getting used to. Then she hands me a big yellow envelope that looks like a tic tac in her massive mitts.

  “Inside is yer room key, class schedule, and student handbook. Now if yer like most kids, yer stick the handbook in yer desk drawer and forget it existed, so let’s get two things straight. One, the basement is off limits. Don’t forget. I’d hate for yer to be the second kid in Van Helsing Academy history that gets lost forever on some stupid dare. Clear.”

  “Um, yes,” I say, swallowing hard.

  “Two,” she continues, “Lights out means lights out. There’s no scampering around campus after hours like those kids in them wizarding books. If I catch yer, I’ll eat yer on the spot. Clear?”

  “Y-Yes,” I say, overwhelmed by all the new info.

  My eyes drift back down to her nameplate.

  Violet Clops. Vi Clops. Then, it clicks.

  Vi-Clops is like Cy-clops. She’s a female Cyclops! And an angry one at that.

  “Good,” she says, pointing at her eye and then back at me, “because I got my eye on yer. And here’s yer backpack. It’s got all yer need inside, including yer books, pens, and notebooks.”

  She tosses it like it’s weightless, but when I catch it it’s so heavy I nearly fall over.