by Collins, Tim
SUNDAY 27TH NOVEMBER
I think it’s time I got some of last night’s events down on paper. Perhaps doing so will help me come to terms with them.
I waited in the graveyard from nine, but there was no sign of Chloe. I didn’t want to give up and go home, as I knew it would be hard for her to slip away from her parents. Plus, it’s not like I had anything else to do. Just after midnight, I heard a rustling from behind a gravestone. At first I was too frightened to investigate, but then I told myself it was ridiculous for a vampire to be so cowardly, even in a graveyard at night.
Something was hiding behind one of the stones. As I stepped towards it, the clouds parted to reveal a full moon and I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.
I tried to turn back, but it was too late. A huge werewolf lumbered out and pinned me to the ground. I thrashed my head around to avoid its stinky drool as it snapped at my neck with its yellow teeth. Eventually, I managed to get a hand around its muzzle and wrestle it off. I gave it a firm kick in the flank, which sent it yelping out of the graveyard.
I didn’t know if Jason had found out about my meeting with Chloe and had deliberately chosen to gatecrash it in wolf form, or if I’d bumped into him on the wrong night by accident, but I did know that he’d brutally attacked me. Rather than feeling scared as I’d been the first time I’d seen him as a wolf, I was overwhelmed with anger. All the hatred I’d ever felt for him welled up inside me and I ran after him to finish what he’d started.
I chased the Jason wolf down the deserted streets towards Stockfield Moor. At first he was just a dark blur in the distance, but before long I gained on him. It was only when I overtook a car that I realized I was running at full vampire speed again for the first time since that hairy fiend had stolen my girlfriend.
Not that I had much time to ponder this. I was driven by my desire to attack as the last of the suburbs turned to open fields, and I pursued Jason across dark moorland. So this was it. I was about to fight a werewolf to the death, just as Dad’s crusty old book said I should have done the moment I discovered its existence.
I finally caught up with the Jason wolf on the edge of a wood below Stockfield Moor. I grabbed him by the throat, summoning all my strength to snap his neck, but he was covered in slippery mud and wriggled free.
The wolf retreated towards the wood, and became harder to see in the fading moonlight. From what I could tell, Jason was turning back into human form, with his jaws shrinking back into his face. I kept up the chase, figuring that I could still give him a good beating even if he was human again, but when the creature glanced back at me from the edge of the wood, I saw something that made me stop in my tracks. The werewolf wasn’t Jason at all. It was Chloe.
MONDAY 28TH NOVEMBER
First things first. I have my vampire powers back now. I returned to Stockfield Moor this morning and I can confirm that I can now set off my supernatural speed and strength as easily as before.
As for what’s going on with the town’s werewolf population, I’m not entirely sure. Chloe was off school today. I called round her house, but her mum told me she was ill. As I was walking away, I saw Chloe’s pale face appear at her bedroom window. I did a phone mime to see if she wanted to call me, but she shook her head.
As far as I can work out from my calendar, she’ll have one more transformation tonight, and then she’ll be human again until next month. I just hope she doesn’t come round here to snack on me. I’d better double-lock the front door to be on the safe side.
TUESDAY 29TH NOVEMBER
I feel strangely relaxed about the whole business now. Or at least, as relaxed as an undead being who’s just found out that his ex-girlfriend is a wolf is ever likely to feel.
I was on my way to school this morning when Chloe texted to tell me to meet her in the graveyard. I was shocked that someone who was so recently a prefect was suggesting truancy, but I expect changing species will do that to you.
Chloe was waiting for me right near the spot where she attacked me on Saturday. I pointed this out and she said she didn’t remember a thing. I told her I’d have taken a picture if she hadn’t been trying to kill me, but it failed to raise a smile.
She said she’d come to meet me on Saturday night just as we’d agreed. But as she approached the graveyard a full moon appeared and she felt an unbearable itching all over her body and looked on in horror as her limbs swelled. She remembers trying to call for help, but hearing nothing but a deep howl. After that, she had a dream about flying horizontally along the ground, and her next clear memory is of dashing for cover in the woods.
It was in those woods, freezing, naked and covered in mud, that she began to understand what had happened to her. She turned her head away as she was telling me this, and I thought she was going to cry, but it turned out that she was just distracted by a passing cat.
I said I felt partly responsible for the tragic turn of events, and apologized for refusing to turn her into a vampire when she asked. But before I could elaborate, she interrupted me. She said that being a wolf was brilliant, and my view of it as some kind of misfortune was typical of vampire arrogance. I told her I was just trying to be nice and there was no need to bite my hand off, like I was a postman or something.
Chloe then stormed off with typical animal irrationality. It was too late for me to go to school and too early to go back home, so I selected Chopin’s ‘Funeral March’ on my iPod and had a peaceful lie-down on a mossy grave. I really should do that more often.
WEDNESDAY 30TH NOVEMBER
Chloe was back in school today, and she apologized for her outburst yesterday. I told her it was fine, and that it’s natural to experience mood swings when your body changes.
Despite existing on opposite ends of the ungodly spectrum, we seem to be getting on well again. At lunchtime, we went to the far corner of the playground, so she could tell me more about how she became a wereperson.
She said she’d asked Jason if she could watch him turn into a wolf, but he’d said it was private. She was determined to witness it, and had called round at his house on the first night of the full moon last month. When she found it empty, she spent the rest of the night searching for Jason and his family, finally tracking them down to the north side of Pottsworth Moor.
She greeted the Jason wolf, expecting him to recognize her, but he pawed her aside and dashed away into the forest. She suffered a few painful scratches, but had assumed that she’d need a full bite to catch lycanthropy. She’d been as surprised as I was when the next full moon came round and she transformed.
She said she’d been feeling fantastic ever since her transformations. She’d discovered new sounds and smells, and felt more alive than ever before. She said that she wished I could know what it was like. Yeah, I’m sure being a mongrel is brilliant and everything, but I’ll stick to being a more upmarket creature of the night if that’s quite all right.
So we’ve made friends again. But before the rumours start, I want to make it clear that we’re not going to become an item. According to Dad’s book Defeating the Lycanthrope Menace, werewolves and vampires are strictly forbidden to become lovers under threat of execution by both the Vampire Council and the Werewolf Trade Union.
Having said that, the book does relate the story of a werewolf and vampire in eighteenth-century Sussex who fell in love and produced an offspring called a werepire, which was said to be the most evil creature that ever lived. By the age of eight, it had already killed over three thousand people, started two wars and invented a debt consolidation scheme. Some say the werepire was eventually destroyed when a silver stake was rammed in its heart. Others say it survived and went on to a successful career judging TV talent shows.
THURSDAY 1ST DECEMBER
Chloe sat next to me in Maths and it didn’t take long for my silly classmates to ask if we were going out again. Just because we’re friends they automatically assume that we’re an item once more. There is such a thing as a mature, platonic friendship, you know
. Plus, I don’t fancy her now her eyebrows meet in the middle.
I have to say I’m impressed with myself for staying friends with Chloe despite her species change. Perhaps I’ll go down in history as the first vampire who was progressive enough to make peace with wolfkind, and one day we’ll all live together in harmony, thanks to me. Having said that, I still hate Jason. I’m prepared to tolerate intelligent werewolves like Chloe, but not stupid dogs like him.
In other news, the whiteheads on my chin have cleared up again. I wonder if this means my vampire attractiveness is coming back. I’m not sure I really want it to. I don’t think I could cope with another slew of illiterate love letters right now. I might try and offset it by wearing a school blazer and getting a pudding-bowl haircut like Nick from the chess club.
FRIDAY 2ND DECEMBER
Now the shock of last weekend is wearing off, my thoughts have turned to the subject of my vampire powers. It’s all rather strange. When Chloe dumped me, my powers went and I assumed I had to win her back for them to return. But then I survived a major crisis on Saturday night and they returned by themselves.
I can’t put my finger on it, but I think my powers appear whenever I truly feel like a vampire, but they desert me whenever I feel like a boring old human. So when I’m racing across moonlit moors in pursuit of werewolves, I can access my powers, but when I’m moping around feeling sorry for myself, I can’t. I think that whether I’m single or not, I’ll always be able to access my powers - as long as I believe I’m worthy of being a vampire.
SATURDAY 3RD DECEMBER
I went out to Pottsworth Moor with Chloe today to test her werewolf speed. It’s weird that she can run as fast as me now. She used to have to wait for me when I sprinted off, but it’s much more fun now we can race. She also has amazing strength, though to be honest I can’t see any evidence that werewolves develop supernatural beauty. If anything, she was prettier as a human. I guess that makes sense, as werewolves don’t need beauty to attract their prey like we do. Their seduction of prey doesn’t get much more sophisticated than jumping on it and chomping its limbs off.
In addition to her strength and speed, Chloe has developed other powers since her change. She has an amazing sense of smell, and can follow scents over great distances with stunning accuracy. Her hearing is also incredibly sensitive and she keeps telling me I don’t need to shout (I have advised her never to see the group Mask of Sanity live in concert). Also, she is unable to resist running after a stick if I throw it. I admit that I tested this last characteristic several times, but I must stress that I did this in the interests of paranormal research and not because I found it incredibly funny.
SUNDAY 4TH DECEMBER
3PM
I went round to Chloe’s house this morning with Dad’s copy of Defeating the Lycanthrope Menace. He’d go nuts if he knew I’d taken it out of his study without asking him, but judging by the amount of dust on it, he hasn’t opened it for over a century.
I read aloud some passages from the book, making sure to translate its prejudiced tone into a more neutral one. I told her that werewolves could be killed by silver bullets, leaving out the book’s section of handy hints on where to buy them. I outlined the ancient feud between vampires and werewolves and told her not to be offended if I didn’t invite her round for dinner any time soon. She said she didn’t like my mum’s cooking anyway, so I said I didn’t know dog meat needed heating up. She smiled at my joke so I think she must be feeling more relaxed about her condition now.
She seemed downcast when I told her that if werewolves avoid silver bullets, they can live for 150 years. I think she’d assumed they were immortal like us. Still, 150 years isn’t bad. It’s twice as long as the average human gets. And I bet she’ll be glad she’s not immortal by the time she’s in her late 140s.
I wonder how old Jason’s parents are. They could be in their nineties, I suppose, which might explain why they love corned beef so much. They ought to be richer by now, though. They could have bought a house for about £500 in the thirties that would be worth a quarter of a million now. Instead, they’re stuck in Stockfield’s scabbiest council estate. That’s what happens when you squander your money on processed meat.
In the afternoon, I took Dad’s book home and left Chloe to catch up with her homework. I think she’s started to worry about her schoolwork now it’s sunk in that she’s not immortal. It’s all well and good for me to coast along, as I’ll get another chance to learn it all again soon. But she’ll grow older eventually, so she’ll need good qualifications and a well-paying job if she’s going to keep herself in flea collars and bones. Plus, she’ll have three fewer days this month to revise for her exams. There’s no point trying to memorize the periodic table when your IQ has dropped to single figures.
1AM
I went for a run on Pottsworth Moor with Chloe tonight. It was raining heavily so we figured we could get away with unleashing our powers without anyone noticing. Unfortunately, we got a bit carried away and ran all the way back at top speed. As we arrived outside my house, I saw Grandpa looking out of his window and tutting.
Although he hasn’t said anything yet, I’m terrified he’ll work out that Chloe’s a werewolf, and Mum and Dad will make me battle her to the death for the sake of stupid tradition. I don’t want to murder my ex-girlfriend. I’m just not the type.
MONDAY 5TH DECEMBER
Mum and Dad were out hunting tonight, so Grandpa came up to my room to have a word. I pretended to be on my phone to avoid talking to him, but he went right ahead and lectured me anyway. He probably doesn’t even know what a mobile phone is.
Grandpa said he knew what I’d been up to with Chloe. I was anticipating a windy speech about how lycanthropes are dangerous and how I’m bringing our coven into disrepute by consorting with them. But luckily for me, the old fool had got the wrong end of the stick entirely.
He said he’d worked out from the speed Chloe was running that I’d transformed her into a vampire. He said it was irresponsible to avoid telling my parents I’d created a new vampire, and that if I didn’t tell them soon, he would.
Although I was relieved he hadn’t twigged that things were far more serious, I was still angry with him for meddling. I said he was right about Chloe, and that I was sure my parents would be interested to find out. I said they’d also be interested to find out that he has full vampire strength and speed, and just pretends to be frail so he doesn’t have to do anything.
Grandpa weighed up the pleasure of grassing me against the loss of his cushy little scam, and then a fake grin spread across his face. He said that vampires will be vampires and he’d done much worse in his day, so we should forget about it. Then he patted my head and winked as if he’d acted out of kindness rather than fear of actually having to lift a finger for once in his death.
TUESDAY 6TH DECEMBER
I went to the bowling alley with Chloe tonight, but we both scored a strike every time so it soon got boring. We gave up and went out to Stockfield Moor and invented our own game, where we had to throw a large boulder off a hill and see how far we could make it roll. It was much more enjoyable than bowling, and we didn’t have to wear those ridiculous shoes.
I was winning for most of the evening, but Chloe had sneaked ahead by the time she threw the rock too far and crushed a Land Rover, at which point we had to stop. She declared herself the winner, but I think it should have counted as a draw. It wasn’t exactly worth restarting the vampire-werewolf war about, though.
WEDNESDAY 7TH DECEMBER
Mr Byrne gave us a talk about ‘time management’ instead of a normal English lesson today. He said we all had to draw a grid for next January and plan a revision timetable for our mock exams, so we wouldn’t get too stressed if we had two exams on the same day.
I enjoyed drawing the table and colouring it in with my felt tips, although I’ve got no more intention of revising now than I had last time I did these exams, or the time before that.
When Mr Byr
ne looked at my timetable he said he admired my dedication, but I mustn’t push myself too hard. I couldn’t work out what he was on about until I realized I’d drawn a 24-hour grid and scheduled revision sessions through each night. I keep forgetting that humans sleep.
THURSDAY 8TH DECEMBER
6PM
Jason turned up late for Maths today and the only free chair was the one next to me. I tried to spread my books across the whole desk, as I didn’t think I’d be able to focus on trigonometry with a vicious murderer next to me. It didn’t stop him taking the seat and blasting me with dog breath all lesson, though.
He asked why I hadn’t been at the cross-country club since that time I lost. I wanted to say that it’s hard to care about such trivial things when your ex-girlfriend has been transformed into a wolf by a callous brute, but instead I said that cross-country running wasn’t a competitive sport so it wasn’t possible to lose at it.
He then boasted that he’d completed the course ages before everyone else every time, and that Mr Moss had said he was the greatest cross-country runner the school had ever known. I said that the school was only founded in 1984 so it wasn’t such a big deal. At the end of the lesson, he said he might see me at cross-country next week.
Although I might be crediting him with more subtlety than he’s capable of, I think Jason was laying down a challenge. Fine, I’ll return to the running club on Wednesday. Now that I’ve got my vampire speed back, it’s that mangy mutt who should be worried.
