by Collins, Tim
According to Dad’s book, the best way to kill a werewolf is to shoot it with a silver bullet. Maybe I could buy a gun and four silver bullets on eBay, sneak into Jason’s house at night and finish off his sordid clan, one by one. My problems would be over and I might even win Chloe again and get my powers back.
No, I mustn’t think that way. I’m better than that. Blood-guzzling fiend or not, I won’t resort to violence. It’s better to resolve problems through diplomacy. Or ignore them until they go away.
WEDNESDAY 2ND NOVEMBER
I tried to find Chloe this lunchtime to warn her about Jason, but she was nowhere to be seen. Even though she rejected me for that lumbering fool, she deserves better than to end up as dog food.
Some people might think she was in danger when she was going out with me, but it’s much more serious now. When she was hanging around with my coven, she was in danger of getting her neck pierced in a couple of places. But if she turns up at Jason’s house on the wrong night, she’ll get the whole thing chomped off. I admit that vampires are a minor health hazard for humans, but she’s really messing with the wrong crowd this time.
THURSDAY 3RD NOVEMBER
Chloe was back in school today, but she was with Jason every time I saw her, so I had to tape a note to her locker instructing her to meet me on the playing fields tomorrow. I hope she survives until then.
At lunchtime I overheard a group of Year Seven pupils playing a horror-themed version of Top Trumps. I thought I’d misheard when one of them shouted that werewolf beats vampire on strength, so I asked to examine the cards. Sure enough, the cards give werewolves a physical strength rating of nine, while vampires get a measly eight.
I have no problem with the makers of Top Trumps releasing a supernatural version of their game. I can even forgive them for mixing real species such as my own with imaginary beings such as Godzillas and Mothras, whatever they are. But if they want their game to be credible, they must ensure that the vampire card scores higher on every category than all the other cards.
I shall now write to the manufacturers of the game and suggest a few changes:
FRIDAY 4TH NOVEMBER
2PM
I’ve had my meeting with Chloe now, and to be honest I’m wondering why I ever wanted to save her.
She turned up half an hour late, and told me that if I wanted to go out with her again, I was wasting my time. I said that nothing could be further from my mind and I had only asked to speak to her because her very life was in danger. I expected her to beg me to continue, but she merely tutted as if I was telling her off for dropping litter.
I related the events of last Saturday night, dropping my voice to a discreet whisper. I was just getting to the bit where I hid in the bushes when Chloe interrupted me to say that if this was about Jason being a werewolf, she already knew and didn’t see how it was any of my business.
I truly didn’t know how to react to this. We’re talking about a family who stalk the hills and eat defenceless animals, perhaps even humans too. I pointed this out and she asked how exactly this was different from what my family get up to.
Unfortunately, her equation of graceful, elegant vampires with sweaty, grunting fleabags touched a nerve and I’m sad to say that our conversation descended into childish insults. I said that at least I didn’t smell of dog like Jason. She said that she’d rather go out with a dog than an old bat. I retaliated by asking if supernatural beings were her type, and whether she was planning to go out with a demon or a poltergeist next. She said that either would be more fun than me and stormed off. If she ends up as a pile of bones at the bottom of Jason’s dog bowl I shall have no sympathy.
8PM
I’m finally done with human women. You give them a chance to consort with beautiful immortals and they choose smelly mutts instead. How dare she mention me in the same breath as those vile mongrels? He doesn’t even have opposable thumbs every day.
It’s fine. I’m over it. End of.
4AM
I have now finished my novel, Dark Embrace of the Night:
‘Why won’t you stay with me for ever?’ begged Claire. ‘I thought you cared for me.’
‘Maybe I do,’ countered Nathan. ‘Maybe that’s why I never want to see you again.’
Nathan was used to this kind of hassle. He always warned girls that they couldn’t be with him for ever, and he always broke their hearts.
‘Don’t cry, babe,’ soothed Nathan, wiping away a tear from Claire’s luscious cheek. ‘I can’t be tied down to one chick. You know that.’
‘So why did you save my life by killing that army of werewolves?’ asked Claire.
‘Because werewolves are a threat to everything that’s good and right in this world, and they must be stopped. If my story has any kind of message, that would be it.’
On that important note, Nathan flew off into the dark embrace of the night.
THE END
My book has twenty chapters in total. It’s a white-knuckle rollercoaster ride with plenty of twists and turns and will be a sure-fire smash. I have now stapled it together and sent it to a publisher, and will think about it no more until I have received a serious offer from them.
SATURDAY 5TH NOVEMBER
I went to the top of Pottsworth Moor tonight so I could see all the fireworks displays for miles around. It was the first time I’ve been back since the wolf incident, so I was rather nervous, and some of the louder bangs made me jump. But I reminded myself that Jason and his vile pack won’t transform again until the full moon at the end of this month, so I wasn’t in any danger. Plus, pets have to stay indoors on Bonfire Night.
Now that my novel is completed, I’m free to turn my skills to poetry again. Tonight I wrote a piece that uses fireworks as a metaphor for doomed love. It features alliteration, which is where you use several words beginning with the same letter. Mr Byrne taught us this in English, though he used an Eminem rap rather than a poem as an example so thick pupils like Jason wouldn’t think he was uncool.
FIREWORKS
Our love was a rocket
Burning bright and brief
Our love was a Catherine Wheel
Spinning with sudden sparks
Our love was a sparkler
Fizzing with fleeting fire
But now our love has malfunctioned
And like a faulty firework
We must never return to it.
SUNDAY 6TH NOVEMBER
Mum barged into my room this morning and announced that we were all going to the seaside. Grandpa said he couldn’t come because his back was giving him gyp, no doubt planning a full day of glugging our blood supplies. The weather turned while we were driving there and by the time we’d parked the car, it was pelting down. Everyone was disappointed by this, but I was pleased that the weather was as bleak and turbulent as my state of mind.
Dad said he didn’t want to leave the car because his cape might get wet. I thought the point of capes was to protect you from the elements. Why buy one so expensive you can’t even use it?
I let them wait in the car while I walked along the rain-lashed shore and watched the crashing waves, which were as changeable and unstable as humans (note to self - is there a poem in this?). By the time I got back to the car, my family had thoughtfully necked all the blood we’d brought along, so I had to go thirsty.
I don’t know why they can’t exercise even a tiny amount of self-control. Dad clearly drank too much because he kept changing lanes without indicating on the way home, and we were beeped several times. And my sister drank so much that we had to pull over on the hard shoulder for her to vomit. I saw a few car passengers look on with horror as they sped past, witnessing what they took to be an injured young girl bleeding profusely from the mouth (rather than a greedy young vampire with no one to blame but herself).
MONDAY 7TH NOVEMBER
1PM
My recent encoun
ter with the wolves must have played havoc with my nerves. When I went to the bathroom this morning, I thought there was a zombie stumbling down the corridor towards me. It turned out to be Dad, who was hungover from all the blood he drank yesterday.
It’s hardly surprising that I’m having these nervous episodes. Until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t even know werewolves were real. It wouldn’t surprise me if flesh-eating zombies turned out to be real too and took over the world.
I hope they don’t, though. Their blood must taste really stale.
11PM
I got home tonight to find that the table had been set. When I asked what was going on, Grandpa said he wanted us to sit around the dinner table and drink as a family more often. Great. So now that old fool gets to dictate how I behave in my own house, does he?
It was really awkward having to drink with the family instead of alone in front of my PlayStation. Mum poured the blood into an ancient pot and ladled it into bowls, creating unnecessary washing-up that I’ll no doubt get saddled with. Grandpa wouldn’t let anyone touch their blood until we’d all said ‘Bless the sacred life force’, which is some pointless old vampire tradition, and then he slurped his blood in a really loud and annoying way.
Dad asked me how school was and I said it was fine. He asked me if I was prepared to elaborate and I said I wasn’t. Grandpa told a story about the Crimean War that seemed to go on longer than the war itself. I know it was a difficult time, but it was over 150 years ago. He needs to let it go.
The only thing that made the entire dreary experience bearable was that Mum and Dad had harvested some delicious type AB+ for the main course and some thick, sugary type B+ for pudding. Yum.
When we’d finished, Mum pretended it had been nice and announced that we’d do the same again tomorrow. So now I have to waste time with these boring old corpses or I won’t get fed, which is little short of blackmail. As soon as I get my powers back I’m going to move into a flat on my own, just you wait.
TUESDAY 8TH NOVEMBER
I haven’t heard back from the publisher yet, which is strange. They should have the novel by now.
I had to suffer more of Grandpa’s stories during family mealtime tonight, although he did say one interestingly gross thing, which was that they used to keep cattle in the cellar of a coven he once lived in. I was going to ask him why anyone would go to the trouble of having noisy cows in their house all day and night, when I realized he was actually talking about keeping humans for their blood!
I have to say I’m shocked that a race as sophisticated as ours could sink to such barbarism. If anything like that ever happened here, I’d have to leave immediately on moral grounds, as I’m a liberal. I’ll be the first to admit that having an unlimited supply of delicious, fresh blood would be handy, but I do have something called a conscience, you know. I doubt any of this lot have heard of it.
WEDNESDAY 9TH NOVEMBER
2PM
Still no word from the publisher. I called their offices today but they were all in a meeting. Even the receptionist had to go to the meeting when I tried to explain the novel’s image system to her.
I saw Chloe sitting with the tough gang in smokers’ corner again at lunchtime. She was clutching a book, an object which no doubt confused the rest of the group. It was called Taken by the Night Hunter and, as far as I can tell, it’s a new book in the series that’s about werewolves rather than vampires. Yeah, I’m sure it’s really romantic when they declare their eternal love for you with Pedigree Chum breath.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on wolfpeople, though. Because you know who the most vile creatures of all are? Humans, that’s who. Callous, fickle humans. I’d happily see the lot of them wiped out by a virus if they weren’t so tasty.
10PM
Grandpa told me off for using a swear word during family mealtime tonight. If he wants me to participate in his ridiculous charade, he needs to let me be myself. It’s bad enough having to sit through his boring stories without having to worry about censorship whenever I open my mouth. I tried to give the old fool a bit of perspective by pointing out that we were a group of damned creatures drinking the blood of innocents, so fruity language ought to be the least of our worries. He said I was a self-hating vampire and that I should ram a stake into my heart if I was so ashamed of what I was, completely missing the point as usual.
In the end, I took my bowl of blood up to my room and announced that I wouldn’t be attending any more family mealtimes. And to show them I meant it, I unleashed another swear.
THURSDAY 10TH NOVEMBER
8PM
I got home today to find that another vampire has been added to our overcrowded coven! Her name is Ivana, though I’m told I must refer to her as ‘Auntie Ivana’. Apparently, she’s a friend of Grandpa, and she’s come over from Poland. Thanks for asking our permission, Grandpa.
Ivana is very attractive, which is probably why Dad let her stay, but I find her rather odd. She keeps making jokes that don’t make sense and then laughing really loudly, so you have to join in just to be polite.
1AM
Things have gone too far this time. According to Dad, Ivana is moving into my room and I’ve got to share my sister’s room for the foreseeable future. This is an infringement of my human rights. Or at least my supernatural rights.
If they had any understanding at all, they’d know I need my space now more than ever. When you’re going through an emotional crisis, the last thing you need is to be subjected to ridiculous teen pop and inane phone conversations.
FRIDAY 11TH NOVEMBER
6PM
This is truly unbearable. I am trying to write these words from a mattress in the corner of my sister’s room, but the terrible music she’s listening to on her computer’s tinny speakers is rendering it impossible. I’m sure that manufactured pop is another thing that I’m allergic to, like garlic and crucifixes.
She keeps watching the same music video of a young boy dancing with models in front of a pool over and over again. I asked her to stop but she said she’d joined a campaign to make it the most-watched video in the history of YouTube. I find it astounding that someone who lived through the Second World War would consider that a worthwhile cause.
Why does my sister fall for all this nonsense? You’d think she’d have seen it all before - rebellious fifties rockers, long-haired seventies idols, camp nineties boybands. But every time the next big thing comes along, she gets smitten all over again.
I can’t cope with it any more. I’m going to demand they give me my room back and kick Ivana out. If they insist on letting all these other vampires stay, I won’t be here to put up with it. It’s me or them.
8PM
I just gave my dad the choice between me and the other vampires and he chose them. To be honest, I think he’d had a bit too much to drink, because Ivana was showing him how to mix a cocktail with type A- and type B+. He went off on a rant about how I should lighten up and stop thinking about things too much.
What exactly does he mean by ‘thinking about things too much’? As far as I’m aware, my mind operates pretty constantly. I can’t control its rate of activity. Do other people have a switch to turn their minds off when they’re tired of thinking? It would explain an awful lot.
Perhaps Dad will regret his words when I’m gone, perhaps not. At any rate, I’ve decided to run away. I’ve packed a change of clothes and a few flasks of blood, emptied my piggy bank, and left the following note:
Dear so-called parents,
It’s only fair of me to inform you that I’m leaving our coven after eighty-five years. Although I’m grateful for all the blood you’ve harvested for me during this time, I feel that our situation has now become unworkable and the time has come for me to leave. In particular, I find it unacceptable that I should have to share a room with my sister.
The coven is expanding for the first time since I joined it, with the addition of ‘Grandpa’ and ‘Auntie Ivana’. In the light of this disruption, I�
�m leaving to fend for myself. Please don’t try to contact me,
Nigel
P.S. Don’t let my sister trick Ivana into swapping bedrooms with her. She’s had her eye on that room for ages.
P.P.S. When clearing out my room, do not throw away any of my poems, as they will be valuable one day.
So this is it. I’m now waiting at Stockfield station for the late train to London. I’m so convinced about my plans, I’ve bought a single ticket, even though a saver return would have been just ten pence more.
I’m leaving behind this small town with its ridiculous werewolves and vampires. Let them discover each other and battle to the death for all I care. I wouldn’t even know which side to support right now.
Perhaps I’ll find a new coven, or perhaps I’ll start one of my own by transforming loads of hot girls with long necks. Either way, this is where the next chapter begins.
12AM
I am now staying in the cheapest bed and breakfast I could find near King’s Cross station. The whole room is sticky, and the walls are so thin I can hear a man three rooms away snoring, but the freedom of finally leaving my stifling coven more than makes up for the discomfort.
