by L. M. Miller
As a new vampire, she should go to that school. Zephyr Hall… It was where you were supposed to go if you ever suddenly started moving things with your mind, morphing into a wolf, or hey, drinking blood. How was she supposed to get to Zephyr Hall though? She was not even sure where it was. No one was certain of its whereabouts. You could only get there if you wanted to be there and were something extraordinary. Well, she wanted to find it, and she was definitely different, but also, what was that last catch… Oh yea, you had to have already been there to find it; otherwise, you needed an escort. Where did one obtain an escort to Monster Academy? Were they in the yellow pages or something? She sincerely doubted that too.
Immersed in her own thoughts, she stumbled into a clearing. She did not notice something else was in the clearing with her until it was too late. She gasped, and the creature whirled around. It was hideous and magnificent all at once. The creature was in fact a beautiful, golden-haired, wolf-human thing. It was big, about six feet, but it had huge arms and stood up on its wolfish hind legs. Its snout was pronounced, and its humongous golden orbs for eyes reflected the pregnant moon eerily. A werewolf… The woods were just chockfull of magical creatures tonight.
A deep rumbling growl emerged from its throat, covering the brief expanse of open meadow between them to roil all around her, like smoke threatening fire. A drizzle slowly descended upon them, two ethereal creatures caught off guard. Almost instinctively, Seph bent down into a fighter’s crouch and hissed in response to the challenge the werewolf had articulated with that growl. Was she hissing again? Where did that come from? It seemed like the right thing to do, but bothering to reflect upon it made it all the more strange. Innocent creatures did not hiss. Fluffy bunnies? No hissing there. Slithering snakes? That was where you found hissing. She shook her head once, red hair streaming in her face. She needed to concentrate and debate her inner nature later.
She readied herself for a fight. The werewolf took a threatening step towards her and then paused, blinking its big eyes several times at her as though it had not really seen her clearly until that very moment. What was it doing? It looked confused, if a wolf-thing could look confused. She probably looked funny as well though, a vampire looking confused.
Tentatively, the wolf padded towards on her all fours, much like Gargantor would when he knew he had done something wrong. This werewolf was getting way too close though! Werewolves were part man, and therefore, they had thinking, human brains. It could be a trap. She hissed at it again, warning it to stay back. It stopped and looked at her solemnly with those huge, golden eyes. Slowly, it raised its left paw to her, directing the top of it, the golden furry part, towards her. She glanced at it, all the time watching the shoulder muscles of the werewolf for a coiling motion that would announce a forthcoming spring into action, but then, she realized she had missed something and did a quick double take of the paw. There was something there, and if it was what she thought it was, that would be really… weird.
Cautiously, she took a step forward, eyes never wavering from the werewolf. It did not move. It did not shudder or flinch or shake. It just sat there resolutely, paw in the air, as if it wanted to shake hands like some dogs are trained to do. It could have been planted there for its immobility and statuesque appearance. She was directly in front of the werewolf now, eyes locked with it. Without taking her eyes from its eyes, she took up its left paw and then looked down at it to see if it was what she thought.
There, imprinted on the back of its left paw, was a black tattoo etched into its skin, a crescent moon tattoo. Whereas Seph had a sun tattoo, her best friend, Francesca, who lived not too far away from the foster home with her parents and six brothers and sisters, had a tattoo of a crescent moon on the back of her left hand. They had gotten the tattoos together on Francesca’s sixteenth birthday not two months ago. Of course, it had been done by one of Francesca’s many cousins, in the back of a shady-looking garage, but it had worked, despite the fits her parents and Seph’s foster parents had thrown afterwards.
Francesca… Francesca was a werewolf? It was funny. It was exceptionally weird even… They were such close friends, and both of them were these weird abnormalities…. She wondered what that meant.
It has to mean something, Francesca commented, and Seph nodded.
Maybe we were always secretly drawn to each other because our blood knew what we were to become, Seph suggested, and Francesca just grinned lopsidedly, her big wolf’s tongue lolling out.
You’re a vampire, Seph. Everything’s gonna be about blood now, I’m guessing, she said, a smile in her voice.
This time Seph rolled her eyes.
Yea, and you’re a werewolf, Francesca. Does that mean that everything is now gonna pertain to doggie doors and Kibbles and Bits? She asked in response, and the huge werewolf just shook her golden head.
Point taken, she admitted.
Suddenly, Seph gasped, dropping Francesca’s paw. She was a werewolf, and werewolves did not possess the capacity to speak. In fact, Seph had not been even speaking aloud either. Everything she had just said had been in her mind. Everything Francesca had just said had to have been in her mind too because she could not speak out loud. Seph stared at Francesca, and Francesca stared at her with equal astonishment, clearly realizing the same thing at the same time. Seph tried to direct her thoughts at Francesca now, but nothing happened. They could not talk with their minds to each other anymore. Seph wondered… She grabbed Francesca’s paw again.
We haven’t been speaking out loud, she thought prominently in her mind, and Francesca winced.
I realize that. You don’t have to shout, Francesca retorted.
Sorry. This is just so weird. Which one of us do you think is doing it? She asked, and the werewolf seemed to think about that a moment, a comical sight to see.
Maybe it’s both of us? Maybe all magical creatures can do this if they touch each other, she suggested.
But what about before? When we were just friends? We never had these discussions in our minds, Seph pointed out, and Francesca had to agree with that too.
Maybe it’s because we’re both changed now, and maybe it’s also because I’m in my werewolf form? She added, and Seph thought about that.
Then you would be the one with the ability to do this, she thought slowly, trying to hide her twinge of jealousy; telepathy would be so cool.
Stop it. We don’t know that. When I become human again, we can test it out, Francesca said, clearly reading Seph’s feelings, which was annoying.
So, I haven’t seen you for the past two months because you’ve been… changing into a werewolf every full- she was cut off by the SNAP! of a twig, resonating through the clearing.
Instantly, she dropped Francesca’s paw, breaking their telepathic connection. She needed both her hands to properly defend herself. Her hypersensitive eyes scoured their surroundings to the left, where the sound had come from, where her foster home was, about three miles back.
“Something’s coming. It’s about a mile away, or was,” she commented, and Francesca nodded in agreement.
She paused to think a moment. They needed to hide. They would scare any human… and anything else, for that matter… A werewolf and a vampire, united together. How strange… Well, if they were going to have to fight then they could find a better place than this open clearing to do it. The old shed! There was an old shed hidden back in the woods that she and Francesca used as their clubhouse… She and Francesca and Nate… They just wanted a place of their own to hang out in when Francesca’s parents were too busy or when Nate and Seph’s foster parents were being particularly mean or aggravating. It was nearly directly between their two homes, seeing as Francesca lived exactly five miles east of them. So, she calculated, they were about half a mile from it, and it was a little south from their current location. How she knew that, she had no idea.
“Francesca, the shed,” there was a moment of listlessness on the werewolf’s face before sudden recognition struck it.
It nodded its great shaggy head at her, on all fours again and ready to sprint. There was another snapping twig behind them, not half a mile away now, and they both turned towards it. They needed to leave now.
“Let’s go,” Seph urged, and they took off.
Francesca was fast, nearly as fast as Seph as she whizzed in and out of the trees. They stood out before her as though everything were swamped in bright daylight instead of total darkness, a light mist rising up with the gentle rain. It should have picked up by now, the storm. It felt like it was just waiting for the right moment to strike, or maybe it was not going to be as strong as the wind had insinuated, or maybe it had moved on. She did not know much about storms. All she knew was that her hair was drying now as she whistled through the trees, Francesca not two paces behind her. She wondered which of them would be faster in an all-out race across an open plain. She and Francesca always had a slight, friendly rivalry between them, not that either of them would admit to it. It would be interesting to find out… Who was faster? Who was better? Who was… more or less of a monster?
They arrived at the shed in a minute flat. Both circled the shed once, ensuring that nothing was lurking around for them. They stood in front of the door, waiting with bated breath. Seph’s eyes scrutinized the emerald-green forest, bathed in silvery moonlight. She rested her hand on the great werewolf’s shoulder as it paced the ground on all fours, halting its actions.
Francesca, what are we going to do? I’m pretty sure whatever is coming after us isn’t exactly human and isn’t exactly animal. I think it’s something magical, just like us, she said, and a low growl rumbled from Francesca’s throat.
We fight until we can’t fight anymore, Francesca snarled feral-like, and Seph had to wonder just how much of Francesca was speaking and how much of the wolf spoke.
Our true selves will come out with our magical selves, Seph. I’m a bit more vicious now, but, you gotta admit it, I always kinda have been. You’ll be more vicious too. You just changed, so it’s not as obvious… yet, the werewolf shrugged its massive shoulders, and Seph sighed.
She was right. It was going to slowly change them, their new natures. For good or for worse, she did not know. She could not help but wonder, as she pondered over her new vampirism, if werewolf blood tasted any different from human blood, because that blood had been really good.
Ew, gross! Seph! I’m sure my blood tastes just fine, but you’re not having any! Whose human blood did you drink anyway? Francesca asked, and Seph tried so hard not to think his name, not to think his name, that she thought his name. Nate! You drank from Nate?! Seph looked away, properly embarrassed. Francesca just stood there, clearly waiting for an explanation.
CHAPTER THREE
Before that particular conversation could go on any further, the sudden flash of headlights stopped them. Francesca rose to her great height, arms out aggressively as she snarled. Seph mirrored her stance, arms out also, hissing menacingly. The car, the same sleek car that had been at her foster home, now stopped on the old road that led to the shed. How had they known?
“Telepathy, age-old tracking, surveillance. That’s how we knew,” the man with the salt-and-pepper hair fluidly emerged from the car promptly, his voice carrying an essence of authority and elegance to it.
“What do you want?” Seph literally hissed before quickly hiding her astonishment at the ferocity in her own voice.
Francesca was right about their changing…
“We just want to talk, Persephone. I can see that you are a little startled as is your friend, Francesca. We have been searching for her most adamantly these past two days. We are from-” Seph cut him off.
“Searching for? She’s been at her house this whole time. You didn’t think to knock?” She asked him impertinently.
She did not trust this man. She did not trust this man as far as she could throw him, although that might be a considerable distance considering her new skills and powers. Francesca leaned against Seph in order to project her thoughts to her.
I haven’t exactly been living at home these past two months, Seph. I’ve been living… somewhere else, and for the past two days, I’ve been living here, which is probably why they knew where to find us. I’m willing to bet that they finally managed to track me down here, she admitted, and Seph sent her a sideways glance, still facing their entourage.
Why haven’t you been at home? She asked curiously, wondering if her friend had been in trouble this whole time and had not gone to her for help.
For the same reasons that you left your home, Francesca began when flashes of Nate’s bloodied neck and her screaming siblings crossed both their minds. The two mystical creatures shuddered at the shared memories. Well, not exactly. You’re going to have to explain to me what happened with Nate later. Right now, we need to take these guys out before they take us out, Francesca said, and Seph interrupted her, although she noted in the back of her mind that Francesca had not answered her question really.
What about what he’s saying? Maybe he can help us. He said he just wanted to talk, but Francesca was shaking her head, noticeable to the observant beings before them.
Letting them talk to us will just let them come closer to us and lower our guard. We need to attack now, girl, she urged, and some of Francesca’s offensive manner flooded from her brain into Seph’s, invigorating her.
Alright, she commented, hissing aloud.
Let’s do this, Francesca snarled as more people flooded from the car, and the two men from Seph’s house earlier emerged from the forest.
“I do not think they are going to be cooperative,” the man with the long hair said with a slight sigh.
He first glanced at the two men Seph had seen earlier, the huge, dark man with the light hair and the evil-looking man with the closely shorn hair. Then the man looked to his other side at the three people lingering there, wielding chains in their hands. How had she missed those? They glinted silver in the light of the night. There was a redheaded woman, a redheaded man, and a blue-haired man with strange, lavender eyes. The two redheads had to be related, probably brother and sister. The woman looked a little scared as the red-haired man tried to put a brave face on for her. Seph could hear his thudding heartbeat though, hardly slower than the woman’s quick flutter. The blue-haired man appeared bored, slowly circling the chain around one balled fist. What were they going to do to them? Did they plan to torture them or something?
“Alistair,” the dark man spoke to the evil-looking man now in a deep, gravelly voice. “Would you like to do the honors?” The evil-looking man, Alistair, nodded, smiling maliciously, as though he were going to enjoy this quite a bit.
Seph’s eyes zeroed in on his ivory fangs. So he was a vampire. She would bet her own pair of teeth that the dark man was a vampire too. What were the others though? She knew uncannily that they were not like her, but they were not wholly human either. She doubted they were werewolves with the full moon out. That left… wizards? Witches?
“Let’s go,” the blue-haired man said to the two redheads, taking a step forward.
The next few events happened in a blur. One moment, Alistair had been taking a step towards her, and the next, he was flying through the air, landing right on top of her. She had no idea how Francesca was faring as her back thudded against the ground. Her acute ears picked up slight grunts and growls to her right, but she was a little preoccupied. She and the strange man rolled over a few times until he managed to pin her down, struggling with her arms as she attempted to claw his face, snarling. He snarled right back, fangs extended.
She did not allow her shock to show as she easily managed to roll him over again. She was not the only monster in these woods tonight. Perched above him, she lunged for his throat. Startled by her aggressiveness, he shoved her off him with an immense, adrenaline-packed strength. Seph was propelled backwards in the air, slamming roughly into the shed’s outer wall. Although the throw was jolting, she managed to land on her feet and not crumple to the floor in
a heap.
Before she could even recover though, he was beside her. He grabbed her throat and shoved her against the wall again. The wound on the back of her head had started healing, but his last shove reopened it, hot, sticky blood trickling down the back of her neck. He leaned in close and sniffed her throat as she beat at his arm fruitlessly, struggling for breath.
“Nothing smells better than fresh blood,” he murmured, baring his fangs like a cobra.
“You’re right,” she snarled and slashed him across the face with her nails, which were more like claws now.
She shoved him back and followed after him. She backhanded him strongly and kicked him in the chest. He stumbled backwards once more. Before he fell to the ground, she darted forward at incredible speed and caught him. She turned his dazed head, baring his throat, and moved to bite him.
Two hands roughly seized her shoulders, pulling her backwards. She dropped Alistair, who crumpled in a graceless heap to the ground before her, just as she felt the twin pinpricks of fangs piercing her own throat. Alistair stumbled to his feet, rubbing his chest, where she wagered she had broken a few ribs. Hopefully she had cracked his sternum, she thought viciously, even though her thoughts were coming full and far between now.
She found herself completely paralyzed and in a fog as the blood was slowly drained out of her. She glanced over at Francesca, noting the dark hands on her own shoulders. They had to belong to the tall man she had momentarily forgotten about, the other vampire. Last time she made that mistake, she thought with irony. She blinked several times as a light fog covered her eyesight.
Francesca was howling in a rage as silver chains were lashed around her, mostly by the blue-haired man. The red-haired woman was clutching a slashed and bleeding arm to her chest while administering to a head wound of her redheaded brother’s. Francesca had put up a good fight, just like she had. She reconciled herself with those thoughts.
