The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills

by Heather Brewer

  “You guys go ahead, I’ll handle this.” Tomas’s eyes darkened as his fangs shot out in anger. Vlad saw his dad deliver a kick to the face of the fallen vampire before Otis grabbed Vlad’s shoulder and led him out of the clearing and into the streets of Bathory.

  “Uncle Otis, where are we going?” They walked at a hurried pace, occasionally breaking into a jog.

  “Back to Nelly’s house. We have to get you out of here.” Otis spun around to avoid being hit by the car that was barreling down the street. “What in the world is going on?”

  He turned to look up the street, then down. Cars were everywhere, lights beaming down on them, horns sounding. Vlad followed his gaze. The scene reminded him of every disaster movie he’d ever seen. The people of the peaceful, midwestern town were fleeing for their lives, and they didn’t care who they trampled on their way out.

  “Oh non.” Vlad’s face fell. What color there had been in his cheeks was now gone. “They’ve started the cleansing.”

  Vlad broke into a run.

  Otis called behind him, “Where are you going?”

  “I have to find Joss!”

  In a flash of vampiric speed, Otis was in front of him, blocking his path. “Vlad, can’t you see that it’s too late for that now. If the cleansing has begun the only way to stop it is to annihilate the Slayers. Your friend Joss, included. He could be compromised. He could be on their side. He may have lied.”

  “Joss didn’t lie, Otis! And it looks like Em’s cronies have already started.” Vlad pointed to the intersection a block in front of them. There were at least twenty Slayers locked in full combat with an equal number of vampires. Stakes flew, fangs were bared, Vlad could smell the garlic from where he stood. It made him sick to his stomach. Bodies on both sides fell like oak leaves on an autumn day, lifeless and red.

  Otis looked worried. “Come on, Vlad, we need to go.”

  “Yeah ... yeah, right behind ya.” Vlad turned again to follow his uncle. They backtracked and turned down a different street to avoid the battle. As they rounded the next corner on their way back to Nelly’s house, they came face-to-face with another small battalion of Slayers.

  There were probably twelve or thirteen of them, Vlad couldn’t be sure. He and Otis stopped in their tracks as one of the Slayers began to speak.

  “Well, well, well, now there’s a face I recognize. Vladimir Tod, isn’t it?” The man smirked as he drew a silver-tipped stake from his pocket. Vlad had no idea who this man was or how he was able to recognize him. “Yes, Joss has kept us well informed. He may not be much of a Slayer, but he is an excellent spy.”

  Otis and Vlad began to back away slowly, not in retreat, but enough to give them time to take in their plight.

  “Boy, your skills in combat have been improving in the past couple of years, but if you do have any special powers in there, this would be a good time to figure out how to use them.” Instinctively Otis and Vlad moved until they were back-to-back as the Slayers moved to encircle them.

  In his mind, Vlad could hear Otis’s voice, “They’ll be coming from all sides, but they’ll only be one deep. This is actually good for us. ”

  “Got it.” In the heat of the moment, Vlad forgot that he could speak telepathically.

  “I know how hard this is for you, Vladimir, but you have to aim to kill. Otherwise, we’ve already lost this battle. ”

  Vlad stopped for a moment. He knew what had to be done, but thought he could still deny that fact to himself. That is until his uncle put it into words. There was no way around it. Vlad would have to kill if he were to survive. There was a Slayer coming right at him.

  There was no time to think, only time to act.

  Vlad ran with incredible speed, moving from Slayer to Slayer, snapping necks as he moved. They didn’t have time to react. They didn’t even have time to blink. By the time he slowed his movements, he realized they were surrounded by several dead bodies. Roughly half of the Slayers that had been about to attack were lying before him, lifeless.

  Vlad felt a wave of nausea almost knock him down.

  And guilt. Horrible guilt.

  He’d killed. He’d killed them all.

  Otis squeezed his shoulder, breathless. “Vladimir, where did you learn to fight like that? I know it’s not something that Vikas taught you. You moved so fast.”

  Vlad shook his head. He was assuming it was a Pravus thing, but it scared the hell out of him to lose himself like that. “There’s no time to explain now, Otis. I have to go find Joss. He’s the only one who can put a stop to this.”

  “Vladimir, I told you. It’s too late for that. Besides, if you think I’m going to let you walk out there and volunteer to get staked, you’re crazy.”

  “It’s not like that, Uncle Otis. You’re right, it’s too late for that. But if I don’t do something, then everyone will die.” Vlad’s chest felt tight, like he might start hyperventilating at any moment. “Don’t worry I can handle myself. You need to get Nelly to safety.”

  Otis looked at him, as if gauging his sincerity. Then he sighed and offered Vlad a nod. “All right, but we’re not leaving town without you. Do what you have to do and meet us at the high school.”

  Vlad nodded and took off as fast as he could.

  To where, he had no idea.

  36

  COMING OUT OF THE COFFIN

  MANEUVERING THROUGH THE STREETS of his small town, Vlad could hardly recognize where he was. It looked more like one of the battlegrounds that he saw on the news rather than the place he had grown up. Police lights and sirens blared as they sped through the streets. Fires burned in trash cans and on wrecked or abandoned cars. There were bodies lying all around, vampire, Slayer, and innocent bystander alike.

  As he passed the lifeless body of Principal Snelgrove, Vlad lost his composure as well as his lunch. Sure he hadn’t liked the guy, but he deserved better than this. Maybe he was right to not have liked Vlad all these years. After all, look where Vlad had led him, led the whole town for that matter.

  Vlad grew angry. Angry at Joss. Angry at Abraham. Angry at the Slayers and the vampires. But most of all, angry at himself. This was all his fault.

  But he was past that now and there was no going back. Vlad had chosen this path and he had to prove, to himself more than anyone else, that he was man enough to walk it.

  Turning the corner, Vlad spotted another battle raging in front of him, but there was something different about this one. Vlad didn’t see any vampires fighting. The townspeople were fighting back. And what’s more, they were doing a pretty good job.

  Vlad smiled; maybe the people of Bathory were a little more than the Slayer Society had expected.

  After two more battles blocking his path and one fight of his own, involving three Slayers who would certainly feel it when they woke up in the morning, Vlad decided to take to the top of the trees. He had to find Joss and Abraham and there was only one place in Bathory where one could survey the whole town at once. Vlad had to get to the belfry.

  As Vlad rounded the corner of the school he spied a familiar sight. The goths were assembled on the steps of the school.

  “Guys!” Vlad hurried over to them, almost breathless, full of panic. “Have you guys seen Joss?”

  “Yeah, I did.” Sprat jumped up and pointed toward the middle of town, “Some old guy was draggin’ him around by the arm, over by EAT, but that was like twenty minutes ago.”

  “Vlad,” October had a worried look in her eyes, “have you seen Henry? He’s not answering his phone.”

  Vlad’s heart ached for her. October was clearly very worried. “I’m sure he’s fine. In fact I know he is. I’d have felt it if something had happened to him.”

  “Felt it? Boy, I guess you guys are really close friends, aren’t you?” The sarcasm flowed in Kristoff’s words.

  Ignoring him, Vlad turned to the others in the group, “Look, guys, I need your help. But first I have to tell you something. Something ... well ... about the truth. My truth, tha
t is.”

  Vlad took a deep breath. He was about to willingly break Elysian law If he were able to stop the Slayers then he might still be able to get out of execution if he played his cards right. They might actually give him a fair trial. After all, he hadn’t known about the law when he broke it before. If he broke the law now, he would condemn himself to death. That is, if he survived the day.

  But he had to tell them. He had to tell the goths about who and what he was. Because he needed them. Now more than ever. And the only way for him to know they were on his side was if he was completely honest with them.

  “What is it, Vlad?” October had moved closer to him, putting her hand on his shoulder in concern.

  He took a deep breath. Then another one, this time deeper.

  He was nervous.

  Strike that. He was downright terrified.

  “I’m ... a vampire.” He braced himself for the laughter and ridicule that was about to come. It would. After all, none of them really believed in vampires. And even if they did, that would make him a freak. A bigger freak than they’d thought he was before his admission.

  October, Sprat, Andrew, and Kristoff exchanged glances, then looked at Vlad like they were still waiting for him to reveal his big secret.

  October smiled. “Yeah ... we kinda know that already. Is there ... something else you wanna clue us in on?”

  “You told us sophomore year, remember?” Sprat shrugged like it was no big deal.

  Andrew merely nodded.

  Kristoff said nothing.

  Vlad blinked in utter confusion. “Wait ... you already know? How do you already know? It’s my deepest, darkest secret.”

  October shrugged. “You told us a few years ago at The Crypt, remember?”

  Vlad did remember. They had been playacting. Or so he’d thought. And for fun, because he knew they’d assume he was pretending, Vlad had told them his inner truth—that he was a vampire. Running a hand through his hair in confusion, Vlad blinked again. “But I thought you thought I was joking.”

  She raised a sharp eyebrow at him. “Vlad, no offense, but look at you. If you’re not a vampire, you’re clearly the most anemic goth I’ve ever seen.”

  Sprat nodded enthusiastically. He seemed to have a hard time standing in one spot. Vlad wagered it had something to do with his pixie stick obsession. “Yeah, you’re way pale. Plus, your fangs are cooler than Kristoff’s ... and he had his custom made.”

  Kristoff’s face flushed red as he whipped around to glare at his hyper friend.

  October gave Vlad’s shoulder a squeeze. “We believed you. Because that’s what friends do.”

  “Big whoop. So you’re a real vampire, who cares.” Kristoff stormed off around the school, his shoulders slumped, the edges of his very being sizzling.

  Vlad watched after him, somewhat taken aback. He and Kristoff had never really been what you’d call friends, but it still bugged him that Kristoff was acting so upset. “What’s his problem anyway?”

  “He wants what you have, Vlad.” October peeked around the end of the school building and watched Kristoff walk away. “That’s why he never liked you.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. I mean ... wait a minute ...” Realizing what she was saying, that Kristoff had always been jealous of him for actually being a vampire, Vlad gaped openly “You mean, you all believed me back then? Every word I said about being a vampire? I thought it came off as a joke.”

  “I’m sure that’s how you meant it, but c’mon, Vlad. If you can be honest with anyone, you know it’s us, right?” October smiled at him. “So, what do you need our help with?”

  Vlad found himself smiling, even amidst all the chaos. “I need to find Joss.”

  “Done.” Andrew led the way, and the rest of the goths followed. Sans Kristoff.

  And Vlad was left knowing that his true friends didn’t care that he was such a freak after all.

  37

  TIME HEALS ALL WOUNDS

  THEY’D JUST REACHED EAT, when Vlad spied a familiar sight. Eddie Poe, vampire, chasing Kristoff down an alley. Kristoff, who looked absolutely terrified.

  Just like in Vlad’s vision.

  Vlad shouted to October, and then took off after them. He didn’t catch up until Eddie and Kristoff were crossing the football field. Vlad moved with vampiric speed, until he was standing right in front of Eddie Poe.

  Eddie, who now had fangs.

  Eddie, who had somehow gotten himself in too deep.

  Vlad looked him over, his pale skin, his elongated fangs, and shook his head slowly, both in disappointment and disbelief. “How, Eddie? Exactly how did you become a vampire?”

  Eddie clucked his tongue, shaking his head in bemusement and running the tip of his tongue over the points of his fangs. “Vlad, you know how. Why ask a question when you already know the answer?”

  Terror filled Vlad’s insides. What was Eddie insinuating? That Vlad had turned him into a vampire and then somehow forgotten? That was insane ... wasn’t it?

  “I mean ... how did you become a vampire without my help?”

  “You’re not the only vampire on the planet, as you well know.” A sly grin spread across Eddie’s face. It was all Vlad could do to refrain from slapping it off of him. “After you refused to become my creator, I was furious. I was on my way to the post office, ready to ship off a package that would expose you and, eventually, the rest of Elysia.”

  Elysia. Eddie knew all about Elysia now. Intimately. In a way that only vampires did.

  This couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be happening. Eddie was a vampire. A real, live, bloodthirsty vampire.

  It was like a bad dream.

  But it was real.

  “But then I ran into Em.” A smile danced on Eddie’s lips, one that made Vlad cringe. Em. Of course. If anyone was maniacal and insane enough to think that making Eddie Poe into a vampire was a good idea, it was her. “She told me she admired my strengths and would give me the gift of eternity. All I’d have to do is rid the world of you when the time came.”

  Vlad shook his head and spoke as if he were talking to a child. “Hasn’t Em told you about the prophecy, Eddie? I’m the Pravus. And the Pravus can’t be killed.”

  “You can now. Ever since D’Ablo removed your invincibility a few years ago with that ritual.” Eddie’s tone was bitter. Each word that left his lips hit Vlad hard in the gut, like punches. Then Eddie smiled pleasantly, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I’m not stupid. You really shouldn’t underestimate me.”

  Eddie knew. He knew everything. Em had made him into a vampire, armed him with knowledge, and set his sights on Vlad.

  Eddie’s eyes grew disturbed as he looked over Vlad’s shoulder. “You also shouldn’t underestimate your Slayer friend.”

  Vlad whipped around to find Joss approaching, his stake held firmly in one hand. A moment of doubt shadowed his thoughts, and he wondered if Joss was there to make another attempt on his life.

  Then a familiar feeling swept over him. The feeling of being punched in the back. That same sensation he’d experienced his freshman year, when Joss had staked him.

  Vlad looked down as he dropped to his knees. His world swirled before him, then sharpened once again.

  Wood. There was wood sticking out of his chest. He’d been staked. For the second time.

  Only this time ... it was by Eddie.

  Shock took him over. His heart beat strongly, defiantly against the splintered wood of the crude instrument that Eddie had constructed.

  Vlad wondered briefly if Eddie had created it in wood shop.

  If so, he probably got points off for not sanding it smooth enough.

  Vlad hoped so, anyway.

  Joss’s eyes grew wide in horror as he rushed to Vlad’s aid. He dropped to his knees, his hand shaking over the end of the stake. “Vlad! Vlad, are you okay? What do I do? What do I do?!”

  Vlad coughed, sending a small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

  There was nothing Joss coul
d do. Nothing at all.

  And strangely, Vlad wasn’t scared. Just surprised. Surprised that it had been Eddie to stake him. Surprised that it hadn’t been Joss.

  He also wasn’t in a whole lot of pain, which meant one of two things. Either he’d begun to go numb from shock, or something was different this time around.

  And with every blood-drinking fiber of his being ... Vlad was betting on option B.

  He reached up with a steady hand and grasped the tip of the stake between his fingers. With all his might, he pulled on the wood until it slipped painfully from his chest, leaving tiny splinters behind in his lungs, his heart.

  There was no gush of blood, no dizzying pain.

  It was easy.

  Far easier than Vlad had ever imagined.

  Once the stake was out, he stood, aware of a tickling sensation in his chest. Eddie and Joss were staring, dumbfounded, as the hole that Eddie’s stake had made, healed closed before their eyes.

  It sounded a bit like spiders ... just like when his blood had healed the hole in D’Ablo a few years ago.

  Vlad moved closer to Eddie and growled. “I told you I can’t die.”

  Eddie’s eyes grew enormous in fright. He turned and ran as fast as his vampire legs could carry him. Vlad was amazed not to see a stream of urine trailing after him.

  He thought about chasing after Eddie, about finishing him off and putting him out of his misery. But in the end, he let Eddie go.

  After a moment, Joss placed a still-shaking hand on Vlad’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, letting him go like than.”

  Vlad shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure it was the right thing to do.”

  He ran his fingertips lightly over his chest, where the skin was now smooth through the hole in his shirt.

  One thing was for sure. D’Ablo’s ritual hadn’t removed his invincibility after all.

  38

  FALLEN SNOW

  VLAD TURNED FROM JOSS when he spied a familiar sight. Snow, looking lovely and rather kick butt in her stompy military boots, moving down the steps of Bathory High, her eyes reflecting the determination in her soul. He hadn’t worried about her, not even once, during the war that had broken out all over Bathory. There was no need for him to worry about Snow. She knew how to take care of herself. She was strong.