Stoker City, Population 2.4 million and counting. Stoker City is the largest multi-racial city in the world. It's basically its own country, located in neither the United States or Canada, but the border between. Its towers are built higher than any other, its streets built longer, its people built tougher, and born richer.
I wasn't born in Stoker, but I've lived here since I was thirteen, right when high school began. I grew up in a small town in Washington, and one lucky day, my family drew the right numbers for the lottery. So, seeing as I needed a better education than the one I was getting, they sent me to Valentine Academy in Stoker City, a private school known for its incredible Arts program, and well-off graduates, while they went off on a permanent vacation, taking my younger sister with them.
My Aunt lives in a slightly lavish apartment downtown, and I've been living with her since my scholarship began. Aunt Jenny is a very nice woman. She's my mother's youngest sister, only thirty-three. She's a fashionable woman, always wearing bright colours, things that don't match and lots of cheap fluorescent jewellery.
She's always coming home wearing crazy colourful dresses or blouses with a tutu instead of a business skirt. She works at on office downtown, so you'd think they'd crack down on the dress code, but apparently they love it. It also helps that Aunt Jenny runs the company, so I doubt they've ever been too hard on her.
My room used to be her sewing room so a lot of her crazy creations are still hanging up in my closet, not that I would ever wear any out of choice. They're hideous, and I'm not even a fashion snob.
She makes sure to knit me one of her special sweaters every Christmas, so there is a plus to her 'creative side', not that the sweaters are any more attractive in design. I've dreaded going out for Christmas dinners because of these sweaters since I've had to wear one each night. Trust me, going to a restaurant with a cute waitress is normally fun, but try being suave while wearing a bright blue sweater that says, 'Christmas is C-C-Cool!' with a picture of a snowman flashing the peace sign. It's more impossible than any mission Tom Cruise has ever been on.
Because of this, I tend to spend a lot of my time away from home when I'm not at school. That time is spent with my two friends, Ramone, and Walter, though we all call him Walt. Ramone is a pretty chill guy, and probably my best friend. He's got gracefully tanned skin, cool blue eyes which he always hides with his sleek shades, and messy black hair that goes down to his shoulders, the same style as mine except I've got a chestnut brown colour.
Walt hails from London, hence the old fashioned named. He's got a chip on his shoulder, but he's a nice enough guy. He'd be a go-to for the ladies if he wasn't such an ass. He's the best looking of the three of us. He's got wavy short blonde hair with nice green eyes, as handsome as one can be.
Most of the time we talk about video games, or TV shows, or movies, and occasionally girls, though our tastes differ on that front. Ramone likes Hispanic chicks, Walt goes for the either the quiet nerds or the outspoken goths, and I go for the least attainable of the bunch, the popular girls, or one in particular.
Laurel Laurent is currently the most popular girl in our grade, and not without good reason. She dresses preppy. Cute red blouse, a short black skirt to really accent her smooth beautiful legs, topped off with heels as scarlet as blood.
Her makeup is always incredible, seriously, she has the most kissable lips in existence. Her long brown hair is always down, and gorgeously shiny. Her nails are long and crimson, she reinvented the word style. Every guy wants her, and every girl wants her. She's the perfect girl!
If only she would notice me.
'If only she would notice me,' I said out loud.
'What?' Ramone said as he slammed his locker shut. He stared at me through his dark sunglasses. 'Why would you want my madre to notice you? She already doesn't like you.'
'That's not what I meant!' I screamed, throwing my books around. Smooth recover, I know. 'I was talking about-' I leaned in to whisper '-you know who.'
'Not in a million years, pal. She's got a boyfriend already. Guys like us are not on the cards for a girl of that...build.'
'You talk about girls in the strangest way, man.'
Ramone shrugged. 'I am who I am.'
'And what would that be?'
He flashed me a winning smile. 'A shameless horndog.'
I rolled my eyes, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. We made our way outside, from the busy high school halls to the equally as crowded courtyard. The lunch bell had just gone off, so we sprinted to our usual spot, underneath the bleachers in the football field.
Why?
The best way to avoid bullying is to make sure they never find you. The entire Valentine Vultures football team had it in for us, and we've been switching hangout places non-stop because of them. This week, we hid underneath the bleachers. The last place we'd think they'd look, and so far, it's worked out remarkably well. Valentine Academy is an inner-city school, so it's all the more impressive that they had the budget to build a football field on the grounds.
Walt was already there when Ramone and I arrived.
'I'm ticked off today,' Walt said before I had the chance to say hello.
Here we go again.
'Ms. Hampford, my science teacher, was going on about how Pluto is actually a planet. Excuse me? It's a dwarf planet. Just because it's in our solar system doesn't mean it's a full-size planet! By that logic, I guess the moon is a planet too!'
Ramone shrugged 'That's just her opinion, amigo. Can't change her mind.'
'But she's a science teacher! She gets paid to express her LIES!'
'Why don't you be the teacher then?' I said. Walt waved his finger around like I was actually on to something.
'Gavin Edward Middleton, my friend, you may be on to something here.'
I sighed. He tends to use people's full names when he appreciates what they've said. It's a rare occasion whenever Ramone speaks, but Walt always uses it on me.
Yeah, that's my name. Gavin. It's the only part of me that stands out, and one that many mispronounce for some reason. They get Ramone Ricardo Alfonso Pablo Javier Fernando Santiago Esperanza right the first time, but not GAVIN MIDDLETON?
The world I live in...
'If you were the teacher,' Ramone said, 'I wouldn't be failing as much as I am.'
'You're right,' Walt replied. 'Your grades would be much worse.'
'Let's talk about something else,' I said, seeing the origin of another Ramone vs. Walt Insult Duel.
'Like what?' Walt asked.
'Anything.'
'Any of you watch the news last night,' Ramone said, thankfully shifting the subject. 'Another murder. Gruesome too. She to be a student at our school.'
Walt and I nodded solemnly.
Stoker City, Population 2.4 million and counting. Its towers are built higher than any other, its streets built longer, its people built tougher, and born richer. It is the largest multi-racial city in the world, and also home to...
Vampires.
They walk among us, like any other human. At night they transform, stalking humans, devouring them for their blood. We live in a world of constant terror, not from wars or crimes, but from those who seek to quench their thirst on our blood.
Stoker City is a cesspool for vampiric activity, but it's also home to Helsing, the premiere vampire hunting agency. They protect us from the terrors of the night, and to repay them, we don't acknowledge them at all. It's better that way. If their identities were common knowledge, their whole mission would go down in a blaze of bloodied fangs and mangled corpses.
'I wonder if it's the same person killing these girls,' Ramone continued.
'The likelihood is immense,' Walt added, one of the rare times he agreed with something Ramone had to say. 'Four weeks, four murders of Valentine graduates, all of them female. It's no coincidence if you ask me.'
'There's a reason they call him the Valentine Stalker, amgio.'
'Have you noticed that senior's grades have been steadily decreasing. I've been seeing lots of older girls names on the Student Tutor boards. They're too scared to graduate. I would too if I was a potential target.'
We stood in silence for a while before the sound of cheerleaders broke our mood. Normally, for teenagers hiding in bleachers, that sound would be music to our ears. But where there were cheerleaders, the Valentine Vultures were close behind, led by none other than the team's captain Chad Houlihan a.k.a. boyfriend to Laurel Laurent
She was there as well, dressed in her skimpy cheerleading outfit, throwing her pom-poms in the air, gracing the world with her perfect smile.
'They probably won't notice us,' Walt said, though one of Chad's cronies, a large African-American boy named Darnell, disagreed. As soon as he saw us peeking through the bleachers he pointed his large beefy finger and screamed.
'Nerds! Get'em!'
'Way to go, Walt,' Ramone said.
The three of us bolted before Darnell and his friends could reach us. We sprinted along the field, dodging football player left and right. We actually got quite far before a hard tackle broke my pace. I collided with the dirt, mulch and grass meeting my face with the intensity of, well, a tackle.
I managed to crawl away from Darnell's grasp, since he too received a face full of dirt. Ramone and Walt actually managed to get away, and from their frantic pace and wailing arms, they had no qualms about letting me face the Vultures alone.
I've made some incredibly reliable friends.
I could taste the dirt in my mouth. I spit out as much as I could as I rolled onto the racing track etched on the outskirts of the field. The cheerleaders had gathered around me, leading the pack being none other than Laurel Laurent who was looking at me like an abusive owner would to a beaten pet.
Chad strolled over, wrapping his big arms around Laurel who looked like she only kind of liked it.
'Looks like you caught a bitch,' Chad said, smiling at Darnell who had just risen from the ground. Laurel shot him a mean look. 'I mean, looks like you've caught a pussy.' Laurel sighed.
'This little runt's escaped us for a few days,' Darnell said, picking me up and holding me by the wrist.
'Let go of me,' I whimpered. The Vultures just laughed, and unfortunately, so did Laurel.
'Twist his arm, Darnell,' Chad ordered, the smile fading from his face. 'Twist it until it breaks.'
My whole body froze. Until it breaks? I glanced at my puny, skinny arm. A kid like Darnell could snap it in two easily, and he looked ready to. A cruel smile appeared over the boy's lips.
'Glady, my man,' he said, and began bending. I screamed. Oh boy, did I scream. I screamed as loud as I could, and as hard as I could. Darnell kept twisting. It felt like it was going to break, I swear it had, but Darnell let go and let me collapse to the floor.
'What the hell is going on here?' Coach MacGregor yelled. He appeared from the schoolyard, clipboard in hand, strutting like usual. 'Who was screaming?'
I whimpered. Darnell bolted as soon as he heard the coach, while Chad stayed still, muttering to himself.
'A fight, huh?' the coach concluded, eying Chad and I. 'Violence is prohibited, kiddos.' A self-satisfied smirk grew on his lips. 'Detention! All three of you.'
Three?
MacGregor eyed myself, Chad, and...Laurel?
'I wasn't a part of this!' she screamed, tearing herself away from her boyfriend's grip. 'And Chad didn't even touch this runt's arm!'
'I don't care, little missy.' He looked at her, tantalised. 'You're tight little ass will be on gym clean-up duty after classes with the other two. No exceptions.'
'You're disgusting,' she spat.
The coach just smiled. 'I believe in gender equality.'
Laurel looked at the vile man, dumbfounded, confused, and every other adjective you could use to describe it.
'I want you three there at 3.10 sharp!' MacGregor screamed. 'No exceptions, no excuses! Got it?'
Laurel scoffed, and Chad tried to argue but the large coach shut him down. MacGregor looked down at me, pulling me up to the ground. 'Go see the nurse. You look like shit and you scream like a girl. Miss Laurent, you're on runt duty. Make sure he gets to the infirmary before anything else is broken.'
Laurel cursed under her breath, and then out loud as the coach strutted away. She looked at me coldly. 'This is all your fault.'
'How?' I said, the pain still very obvious in my voice. 'Your friends beat me up.'
'Maybe if you weren't perving on me from under the bleachers, you wouldn't be in this mess.'
'I wasn't perving!'
'Like I would believe you.' Chad was long gone now, it was just the two of us alone on the field. The lunch bell rang and a look of sheer frustration washed over her pretty face. 'Let's go, then! MacFucker said I have to take you to the nurse. I don't want double detention.'
She strolled off at first without me. I followed after she shot me an angered look. She said nothing else for the rest of the trip. Some of her friends saw us in the halls. They smirked deviously at her, treating Laurel like she was just as pathetic as I was.
She stopped in front of the nurses office and pointed her red fingernails inside. 'In,' she demanded. 'Quickly! I don't want to spend another second beside you.'
'Fine by me,' I lied.
Did I still have a crush on her?
Most definitely.
Was she rude, ungrateful, arrogant bitch?
*sigh*
Most definitely.
Unfortunately, I would soon find out she was so much more.
More than I could handle.
Most definitely.
'Thankfully, nothing is broken,' Nurse Powell said as she finished wrapping a bandage around my wrist. 'Next time, don't be such a wimp and try to fight back. At least then you can visit me and actually have an injury to flaunt.'
I laughed. 'I'll remember that next time I anger some football players.'
She smiled and set me off. I liked Nurse Powell. She was a very motherly woman, and quite funny. She was just over middle aged and a bit plump. She reminded me a bit of my own my mother, mostly in the voice. Deep and soothing, the perfect sound to heal your mental and physical ailments.
Ramone and Walt were waiting outside the sick room for me. It was just past 3.00. School had just ended and they were ready to go home. Not me.
'Thanks for the help back there,' I said. 'It's nice to know my friends have my back.'
'We called the coach for you,' Ramone said quickly.
'And we gave you moral support,' Walt added.
'When?' I replied
'Whenever you need, honestly.' I lightly kick Walt's leg and continued down the hall.
'Where are you going, amigo?' Ramone called.
'Detention, brainiacs. I have to clean the gym with Chad and Laurel. Wish me luck.'
'No,' Walt said. 'We're fine.'
I glared back at them and continued on my way. Chad and Laurel were already inside by the time I made it to the gym. Laurel was back in her regular clothes while Chad still has his Vultures uniform on. Laurel stood with her arms crossed, trying her best not to look at me while Chad was making stupid faces my way.
The gym was covered in balls and the volleyball nets were still up. The equipment shed looked like it had its own mini-tornado appear inside and had wreaked all kinds of havoc. MacGregor walked in, strutting as usual. He blew his screeching whistle at us.
'Miss Laurent, equipment shed duty!'
'Whatever,' she said.
'Middleton and Houlihan, net duty, then you can put the balls back in the ball-sacks!'
Chad chuckled. MacGregor blew the whistle in his face again. 'Something funny, Houlihan?'
'You said ball-sacks,' Chad answered, holding back laughter. Laurel scoffed. I would have as well but I'm a teenage boy. If anyone was going to see the humour in it, it was going to be me.
The coach just rolled his eyes and blew the whistle again, signalling for us to start work.
Cleaning up the gym for detention doesn't sound like the hardest task, and it wouldn't be if I was left to my own devices. It was made especially difficult when paired with Chad Houlihan. Working with him felt like the same amount of effort it would take to corral a swarm of mosquitos into the smallest net you could find.
He was constantly chucking balls at me in a desperate attempt to nail my groin. I saw them coming every time but it didn't make it any less annoying. Once we put all the balls back in the sacks, Chad proceeded to dump them back again and whip me with the sack.
Putting the nets away proved to be a hassle since walking through untying and tying the net harnesses with a brainless idiot would be challenging enough, but with Chad it was even worse.
I gave up after he tried to tie the volleyball net around me. MacGregor wasn't even in the building anymore. We had been at it for an hour and the school was nearly abandoned. He had left the key to lock up for us, and I considered bolting, but I didn't want to leave Laurel trapped overnight in the school gym.
I would probably get expelled anyway.
While Chad was taking a leak, I walked over to the equipment shed to see how much progress Laurel had done. As it turned out, the percentage was ZERO. The whole time had been on her phone in the corner of the room without a care in the world.
'What are you doing here?' she snapped, quickly putting her phone back in her purse.
'I thought you might need some help with...what you haven't been doing.'
She eyed me, like she wanted to laugh. 'With your busted wrist?'
'It doesn't hurt that much anymore. Besides, three hands are better than one.'
She sighed and rose from her spot. 'Fine. Only if you do most of it.'
I nodded. Reluctantly, of course. And so we worked. I handled one side of the room, Laurel the other. Surprisingly, even in silence, we made a good team. We worked quite efficiently, and by the end of it, we were almost finished until Chad arrived.
'Are you done?' Laurel asked, ready to leave. 'Let's head out before it gets dark.'
Chad gave us his most mischievous grin. He grabbed the shutter for the shed and slammed it down, bathing Laurel and I in complete darkness, alone together in the equipment shed.
'Chad you fucker, let me out!' Laurel screamed as she banged against the shutter. We both heard a locking sound on the other side followed by the oafish laugh of the quarterback. 'Let me out!'
'I'll let you two lovebirds have a night alone!' Chad's voice echoed. 'Sleep tight!'
We heard the gym doors open, then close, followed by another lock. He had trapped us. He trapped his own girlfriend in the equipment shed.
For what reason?
I couldn't say.
I sighed. This was par for the course in my life, but Laurel was freaking out. She pounded desperately against the door, pounding like her life was at stake.
'MacGregor will probably be back soon,' I said, trying to calm her. 'They're having a staff meeting tonight, so he'll be back in a few minutes.'
Laurel didn't stop pounding. Was I really that bad a person to be stuck with.
'I don't have a few minutes!' she screamed. 'I have to get out now!'
'We could try the window,' I suggested. There was a window, but it was too high for any of us to reach. Laurel scrambled towards me in the dark, tumbling over a few pieces of equipment along the way. Without a word, she began climbing up my body, her fingernails digging into my shoulders, eventually turning to her heels.
Before I knew, before I allowed it, she was standing on my shoulders, and I had my hands clasped along her ankles. She banged at the window, but it was tough, and it wasn't going to break. She was crying at this point, and I had no idea why.
All it took was one powerful punch against the glass, and Laurel had accidently launched herself off from my shoulders and we both fell to the mat below. I rolled against the shutter door while Laurel sobbed underneath the window.
'We'll be out soon,' I consoled, but she wasn't listening.
'I have to get out,' she whimpered. 'I can't be in here with you.'
Popular girl problems I guessed.
A few minutes passed, but MacGregor didn't come. Not a peep echoed inside or outside the gym. We truly were alone. Together. Me and Laurel. The worthless runt trapped with the hottest girl in the school.
Of course, the situation could have been better, but I figured this was a good chance for us to get to know each other.
'So...are you having any trouble with the English Assignment?'
No answer.
'If you are, I can help you. Only if you want of course!'
No answer.
Her sobbing had ceased. 'If you need help, I'm here. If not, then maybe you can help me or something. Are you good at-' I then remembered that she was always being held back by teachers after class to finish homework and that her name was always signed on the Student Tutor sheet on the bulletin board, '-any subjects?'
I looked over at her body. I could see her form in the darkness, moving slightly, her breaths getting slower. 'Are you okay?'
I inched a bit closer. 'Get away from me,' she whispered, her voice raspy and unwelcoming. 'I'm so thirsty.'
'Do you need some water?'
'So thirsty.'
'There's a tap in the gym, but, well, you know, we're stuck in here.'
'I have to get out. I'm so thirsty.'
Suddenly, she rose. Her back was to me, and she was looking up at the sky. It's completely dark now, not even a hint of moonlight. She turned to face me and I scrambled backwards.
Her eyes.
They glowed.
Glowing a shade of red that didn't belong to a human being.
Laurel crawled closer. Even through the pitch-black darkness I could make out a smile forming over her lips. A bestial smile.
I couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it.
'So very thirsty,' she called. And then, she pounced. Like a lioness on her prey, she leaped onto me. She was snarling like an animal, spit flying from her mouth, claws ready to gouge my eyes out. I managed to kick her off my body, sending her flying against the wall. I crawled towards the window, grabbed a chair, and tried my hardest to climb up to the ledge.
Laurel was onto me before I could even attempt to escape. Her claws sunk into my back and she flung me against the floor. She pounced once again, pinning my arms to the ground.
Now I could see her clearly. Now I knew for certain.
Laurel Laurent, the queen bee of Valentine Academy, the love of my life, was a Vampire.
Her fangs clamped down on my neck, the pain so intense I couldn't muster a scream. She was drinking my blood, sucking the life from my body. I could feel life escape from my soul...but all was not lost.
Her grip loosened and I kicked her off. I was weakened, but strong enough to slam a basketball against her face. Her mouth was covered in blood, whose was anyone's guess, but a ball to the face wasn't enough.
She pounced again, but instead of sinking her fangs into my neck, I kneed her in the chest, and her trajectory sailed off. Her lips collide with mine, and her blood dribbled down my throat. It burned, scalded my throat, then my lungs, and then my whole body.
Laurel adjusted herself and bit down on my neck again. Darkness clouded my vision until all I saw was nothing, I heard nothing, and felt nothing...