Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (2/6)
I scrunched the phone closer to my ear and counted two more rings. After dad had elaborated on his theory that vampires were gathering the Hellmouth's energy for some undefined evil, I knew I had to contact Winford, my watcher. With mom watching TV on the couch, though, I couldn't very well do it at home. So I told her I was going to the Bronze, the local teen scene and made a polite beeline for the nearest pay phone. No luck though. Seven rings and Winford still wasn't picking up. I let it ring some more then slammed it back into place.
Patrol. Before I'd the left the library, Winford had said to patrol. Maybe I'd pick up some clues. I took a deep breath. "Right," I said aloud. "Patrol. For clues."
I headed off in the direction of the cemetery. It was an amazingly quiet night. For any town. But it was particularly spooky for Sunnydale. Every imaginable evil uses this place as its vacation spot. Anything could be lurking in the shadows. Or at least, that's the way it *should* be. I groaned inwardly. Some excitement I was getting. You'd think there'd be some perks to being the slayer. You know, working off excess energy or something, the energy I'd saved up from not having any sort of social life. But no. Just when I'm initiated, that's when the bad goes all quiet. *So* not good.
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" I sing-songed. Nothing.
I walked miserably towards the cemetery. I wondered if I'd ever live up to the old slayer's rep. She was utterly feared. Of course, she was out of state at university and here I was, carrying on the mantle. What little was left of it. Some slayer I was turning out to be. The number of vamps I've dusted can be counted on one hand. Concede, exaggeration. But why was it that whenever I was getting my groove on, that's when the undead decide to lay low? I mean, yeah, so I wasn't exactly thrilled at first with this assignment. But, I adjusted. I'm entirely in with it now. Except, where's *it*?
A small pebble was lying on the road. As I kicked it, I thought I heard a scream. That's more like it. I listened carefully. It sounded like the cemetery. Good, no extra exertion required.
I ran towards the sound, which was getting louder. I could see the gates of the graveyard when a guy came crashing full speed through them and into me. We fell over backwards, him on top of me. "Aaaah!" he yelled, practically in my ear. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
I shoved him off and hurriedly asked, "What is it?"
He was completely out of breath. All he could do, laying there on the ground, was point. His shaking finger directed me back to the gates he had just run through. I ran past him into the cemetery. A female vampire with really bad purple hair was coming towards me. "Yes!" I cheered. I charged the vamp and had her pinned to the ground in seconds.
"This is gonna be so good. You know, I haven't just been practicing the violence part. The witty repartee..." The vampire reached up and grabbed me around the neck. I slapped her hands away, pulled a stake out of my back pocket and shoved it through her chest. "...goes, once again, unheard." I finished lamely. She vanished in a pile of dust.
I stood up, brushing off my clothes. From behind me, I heard an astonished gasp. I spun around and saw the screaming guy standing there with his eyes bugged out. He pointed a quivering finger at me. "You...you..." he muttered incomprehensibly. Then he fainted.
I'm telling you one thing - one of the hardest parts about this whole slayer gig isn't the vampire stuff, it's the human factor. I haven't had much practice, but I'm betting there's a lot of Clark Kenting in my future.
I recognized the would-be victim that collapsed at my feet. He was in my bio class. Robbie. Something. I'm not so good with names. Whatever. The big was setting it up so that he had a plausible scenario to recollect when he came to. Something minus the bloodsucking undead.
I hauled him to the Bronze and dumped him outside. No one noticed, thankfully. Then, as discreetly as possible, I slipped inside and stole someone's drink. I sniffed it to make sure it was alcoholic. I came back outside and doused the guy good. Then I shoved the glass in his hand. Okay, so it wasn't a perfect plan. How does an underage teen get an alcoholic drink? I'm not perfect. But hey, my mom's been in some pretty weird situations and she always comes up with plausible explanations. No matter how farfetched. Like, one time, my dad told me she actually dismissed a UFO as swamp gas. Yeah, right.
That handled, I left to try and sort out my options. I had two - call Winford and tell him what my dad and the Lone Gunmen had concluded, or continue with the patrol and hope for some bloodsucker action. I chose the latter coz somehow I didn't think Winford was home. Probably actually doing the cataloguing I lied to mom about. Mr. Fun, yeah.
I checked to make sure my stake was secure in my back pocket and went off to the cemetery again. Unfortunately, it was quiet. Or fortunately, I don't know.
Not even a breath of the undead. I was totally disappointed. A whole night of patrol and all I got was one lousy vamp. It took me more energy to take care of his intended victim. I called it quits for that night.
I decided to shortcut my way out of there, instead of actually having to retrace my steps to the front gates. I saw an opening between two mausoleums. It was more or less northerly, which was where I was sure my house was, so I walked through. Out of nowhere, I heard a low growling. Not man (or woman), and definitely not beast. I took out my stake. Vampire.
I saw them out of the corner of my eye, about five or six of them, surrounding something on the ground. In spite of myself, I started to grin. I'd been deprived so long. A slayer needs to slay, as sick and twisted as that may sound. Otherwise, she starts to feel a little useless. Especially a slayer with no social life whatsoever.
I didn't say anything as I approached them. They were all majorly fascinated by whatever was on the ground. As I got close, I saw that it was one of those blood transfusion bags you see at hospitals and stuff. One vamp was on the ground, holding the bag up so that the moon shone on it. He was chanting something in some language over it, his eyes closed. The others were pitching in at various times. I guessed it was some sort of ritual. I was okay with that.
I tapped the vamp nearest me on the shoulder. When he turned around, I drove the stake through his chest. He exploded into gray ashes and suddenly, I was the center of attention. "All right, before we get down to business, let me hit you with this..." I began. But instead of finishing, I lunged forward and staked the guy in the middle. "...get it? Hit you with this?"
The other vampires started growling and circling me. "Tough room," I observed. One of them broke from the group and tried to knock me down, but I was ready for him. He met the business end of my stake. "Come on. Any other takers? I got a whole bunch of months to make up for."
Another vampire charged me. One fingernail scraped across my cheek, and I felt blood seep from it. "Hey, you play dirty!" I protested.
Unexpectedly, the other vamps freaked. They all began gesturing and jabbering at me. The vamp that had scratched my face got off me quickly and tried to rejoin the group. They all pushed him out. "Nothla, Nothla" it sounded like they were saying. The outcast looked imploringly at me. They started chanting louder. I stood up, ready for battle.
The ostracized one looked first at his buddies, who were strangely all shunning him, then at me. With a cry like a wounded animal, he ran straight at me and into the out-turned stake. He burst into silver dirt and was gone. So were the others. They'd all politely exited when kicked-out one started screaming. "Sissies," I mumbled. So much for a good night's slaying. A total of four. Fantastic. Well, at least I'd met my daily quota.
I trudged home sullenly. The lights were on in my folks' room, so I poked my head through the door. Dad was at the computer, typing busily away, and Mom was reading a medical journal. "Hi, honey, how was the Bronx?" mom queried absently.
"The Bronze," I corrected with a laugh. I had no idea. Except for the few seconds I'd been inside purloining someone's drink, I'd mostly been surrounded by the dead. Rather, not quite so dead. So I went with the answer all parents expect from their teens, no matter the question. "Fine."
"That's nice, sweetie."
"Uh, I'm gonna turn in." I told them.
"Good," said Dad, not looking up from the computer screen. "It's a school night after all. Your mother and I decided, though, since you hardly ever go out anymore, it couldn't hurt."
"Thanks, dad. Good night."
"Night, honey." they said in unison.
As I shut the door to their room, I rubbed a sore shoulder and felt the bruised cheek, which fortunately, hadn't been facing my folks. "Couldn't hurt. Right. There's gotta be a pun in here somewhere." I said to no one as I walked across the hall into my own room. Getting ready for bed, I wondered vaguely what "Nothla" could possibly be. I kinda think I'm supposed to know stuff like that. Demon names and stuff. Hey, but what's a watcher for right? Talk to Winford tomorrow, I thought sleepily. Can't be all that bad.
"This is dreadful!" was Winford's reaction to my narrative.
It was lunch, and I was perched on top of the table, playing with a tassel I'd attached to the zipper of my backpack. Outside the library, I could hear kids rushing around, enjoying their forty-five minutes of freedom. "Huh?"
Winford was pacing. I hate it when people pace. "Awful." he mumbled.
I let go of the tassel. So not good when people mumble negative words. "Spit it out." I demanded.
"You're sure they were chanting 'Nothla'"? he asked me for the millionth time.
A breath whistled out from between my lips. "They were actually saying 'No duh.' Repeat, no *duh*."
Winford did the Signature Scully Raise. "So I know I'm not Einstein when it comes to demony stuff. I have great hearing though. They were most definitely, one hundred percent absolutely with sugar on top saying 'Nothla'. Mean anything to you?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He gestured me over to the circulation desk where a huge old book was lying open.
I followed him over and peeked at the book. "What, no illustrations?"
"No one's ever seen it."
"What 'it'?"
"Nothla."
I did a double take at the page filled with weird writing. "Wait, you're saying No-duh is an it."
"Nothla." said Winford, a frustrated edge in his voice. "He's a sort of vampire...demon, if you will."
It was my turn to do the Signature Scully Raise. "Vampire demon? Don't they belong to separate camps? You got your vampires, then you got your demons. Never the twain shall meet."
My watcher was shaking his head violently, appalled at having such an ignorant prot?g?. He hefted the book over to the table and I went back to perching on top of it. "If you must, a vampire god."
"Now we're talking." I paused. "That's really not good."
Winford ignored my observation. "The ceremony to call him is quite long and complicated and has only been attempted once in recorded history."
"Assumption. It failed."
"Correct. The key to this rather extended ceremony is that no vampire involved can spill any blood for a certain period of time."
I flashed back to the misfit of last night that committed suicide on my stake. My hand went up automatically to the scratch on my cheek, which thankfully, neither mom nor dad had seen. "Explains why they wasted no time banishing Scratchy."
"Yes." he agreed.
A lightbulb went off over my head. "So, like, now, the ceremony's jinxed. End of problem."
Again, with the violent head shaking. My hopes died. Blow all that need for the kill. I meant small kills, exceeding a quota. Not blowing past the quota like it never existed. The universe loves to toy with me. "No, it isn't. According to you, that vampire immediately staked himself. That rectifies it. The ceremony can continue."
Sigh. "Give me the cliff notes version on this ceremony."
"Simply, a group of vampires, the larger the better, comes together and vows not to spill blood for a certain time period. How long is unclear. In this time, none of the members may hunt. They live on what you saw, blood already spilled - from blood transfusion supplies, et cetera, that must be blessed first. If, like I said, there is bloodshed, the vampire responsible must quickly dispatch him or herself."
"To what end?" I asked.
"We'll get there. During this time, they must collect a group of seven girls and seven boys."
"What's the obsession with seven?"
"That ties in with the end you asked of."
Silence. I tilted my head and stared patiently at Winford. Was it my imagination, or was he milking this for all it was worth? Was he really as bored as I was? Finally, he spoke. "The purpose of the ceremony is to call Nothla from the netherworld into this one. And, once he arrives, he must be fed without delay. The feeding itself is special. Nothla's symbol..." Winford flipped some pages. "...is the pattern of feeding."
I looked at where Winford was pointing. It was this sorta house or tower shape, a long box with a coned top. Seven points were indicated on it with black dots. "One boy and one girl stand on each spot and..."
"...vampire god gets seven course meal." I finished. Another flash. "I think I complicated their plans further. Some ugly vamp tried to grab this guy in my bio class..."
"He saw you?"
"Don't worry. My folks worked for the government. I know about plausible denial. Anyhow, I think he was an intended. I stopped that, though."
"Not for long, I'm afraid." Winford turned back to the book. "I see that they're determined to go through with this. That would be the perfect explanation for the sudden decline in vampiric activity. Again."
"Great. Lulls. That's my life, a bunch of lulls punctuated by major evil. So, why they conjuring up this guy anyway?" I started playing with the tassel again.
"He's the vampire champion." said Winford ominously.
"In what way?" I twirled the tassel around my finger.
"Once Nothla is called, he cloaks the world in eternal darkness."
I stopped with the tassel. "Pause. Rewind. Play."
"Vampires no longer have to wait for the night to feed. Night will be all there is."
I looked up and out at one of the windows set high into the wall. Sunlight shone through, soft and filtered. The sun. What would the world be without it?
"Vampire buffet," I muttered. I was too bummed even to think of something witty. That's all I could come up with. "Twenty-four seven night equals a vamp smorgasbord."
"Exactly."
"Guess I'm gonna have to do something about it, huh?" I asked meekly.
"Your job as the slayer."
My sacred duty. Oh, man. I looked out at the sunshine again. New slayer truth. Some weeks are most definitely tougher than others. Don't dis the downtime.
The bell rang. "You have a study hall last period?" Winford asked as I picked up my backpack and started to leave.
"Yeah," I said softly.
"You'll need all the time you can get."
"I'll be here," I told him. I walked out the door. People were rushing around, running off to their classes. Ignorant. Oblivious. Didn't have a clue that maybe even tomorrow, they'd be bloodsucker bait.
God, I wish I were like them.
I scrunched the phone closer to my ear and counted two more rings. After dad had elaborated on his theory that vampires were gathering the Hellmouth's energy for some undefined evil, I knew I had to contact Winford, my watcher. With mom watching TV on the couch, though, I couldn't very well do it at home. So I told her I was going to the Bronze, the local teen scene and made a polite beeline for the nearest pay phone. No luck though. Seven rings and Winford still wasn't picking up. I let it ring some more then slammed it back into place.
Patrol. Before I'd the left the library, Winford had said to patrol. Maybe I'd pick up some clues. I took a deep breath. "Right," I said aloud. "Patrol. For clues."
I headed off in the direction of the cemetery. It was an amazingly quiet night. For any town. But it was particularly spooky for Sunnydale. Every imaginable evil uses this place as its vacation spot. Anything could be lurking in the shadows. Or at least, that's the way it *should* be. I groaned inwardly. Some excitement I was getting. You'd think there'd be some perks to being the slayer. You know, working off excess energy or something, the energy I'd saved up from not having any sort of social life. But no. Just when I'm initiated, that's when the bad goes all quiet. *So* not good.
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" I sing-songed. Nothing.
I walked miserably towards the cemetery. I wondered if I'd ever live up to the old slayer's rep. She was utterly feared. Of course, she was out of state at university and here I was, carrying on the mantle. What little was left of it. Some slayer I was turning out to be. The number of vamps I've dusted can be counted on one hand. Concede, exaggeration. But why was it that whenever I was getting my groove on, that's when the undead decide to lay low? I mean, yeah, so I wasn't exactly thrilled at first with this assignment. But, I adjusted. I'm entirely in with it now. Except, where's *it*?
A small pebble was lying on the road. As I kicked it, I thought I heard a scream. That's more like it. I listened carefully. It sounded like the cemetery. Good, no extra exertion required.
I ran towards the sound, which was getting louder. I could see the gates of the graveyard when a guy came crashing full speed through them and into me. We fell over backwards, him on top of me. "Aaaah!" he yelled, practically in my ear. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
I shoved him off and hurriedly asked, "What is it?"
He was completely out of breath. All he could do, laying there on the ground, was point. His shaking finger directed me back to the gates he had just run through. I ran past him into the cemetery. A female vampire with really bad purple hair was coming towards me. "Yes!" I cheered. I charged the vamp and had her pinned to the ground in seconds.
"This is gonna be so good. You know, I haven't just been practicing the violence part. The witty repartee..." The vampire reached up and grabbed me around the neck. I slapped her hands away, pulled a stake out of my back pocket and shoved it through her chest. "...goes, once again, unheard." I finished lamely. She vanished in a pile of dust.
I stood up, brushing off my clothes. From behind me, I heard an astonished gasp. I spun around and saw the screaming guy standing there with his eyes bugged out. He pointed a quivering finger at me. "You...you..." he muttered incomprehensibly. Then he fainted.
I'm telling you one thing - one of the hardest parts about this whole slayer gig isn't the vampire stuff, it's the human factor. I haven't had much practice, but I'm betting there's a lot of Clark Kenting in my future.
I recognized the would-be victim that collapsed at my feet. He was in my bio class. Robbie. Something. I'm not so good with names. Whatever. The big was setting it up so that he had a plausible scenario to recollect when he came to. Something minus the bloodsucking undead.
I hauled him to the Bronze and dumped him outside. No one noticed, thankfully. Then, as discreetly as possible, I slipped inside and stole someone's drink. I sniffed it to make sure it was alcoholic. I came back outside and doused the guy good. Then I shoved the glass in his hand. Okay, so it wasn't a perfect plan. How does an underage teen get an alcoholic drink? I'm not perfect. But hey, my mom's been in some pretty weird situations and she always comes up with plausible explanations. No matter how farfetched. Like, one time, my dad told me she actually dismissed a UFO as swamp gas. Yeah, right.
That handled, I left to try and sort out my options. I had two - call Winford and tell him what my dad and the Lone Gunmen had concluded, or continue with the patrol and hope for some bloodsucker action. I chose the latter coz somehow I didn't think Winford was home. Probably actually doing the cataloguing I lied to mom about. Mr. Fun, yeah.
I checked to make sure my stake was secure in my back pocket and went off to the cemetery again. Unfortunately, it was quiet. Or fortunately, I don't know.
Not even a breath of the undead. I was totally disappointed. A whole night of patrol and all I got was one lousy vamp. It took me more energy to take care of his intended victim. I called it quits for that night.
I decided to shortcut my way out of there, instead of actually having to retrace my steps to the front gates. I saw an opening between two mausoleums. It was more or less northerly, which was where I was sure my house was, so I walked through. Out of nowhere, I heard a low growling. Not man (or woman), and definitely not beast. I took out my stake. Vampire.
I saw them out of the corner of my eye, about five or six of them, surrounding something on the ground. In spite of myself, I started to grin. I'd been deprived so long. A slayer needs to slay, as sick and twisted as that may sound. Otherwise, she starts to feel a little useless. Especially a slayer with no social life whatsoever.
I didn't say anything as I approached them. They were all majorly fascinated by whatever was on the ground. As I got close, I saw that it was one of those blood transfusion bags you see at hospitals and stuff. One vamp was on the ground, holding the bag up so that the moon shone on it. He was chanting something in some language over it, his eyes closed. The others were pitching in at various times. I guessed it was some sort of ritual. I was okay with that.
I tapped the vamp nearest me on the shoulder. When he turned around, I drove the stake through his chest. He exploded into gray ashes and suddenly, I was the center of attention. "All right, before we get down to business, let me hit you with this..." I began. But instead of finishing, I lunged forward and staked the guy in the middle. "...get it? Hit you with this?"
The other vampires started growling and circling me. "Tough room," I observed. One of them broke from the group and tried to knock me down, but I was ready for him. He met the business end of my stake. "Come on. Any other takers? I got a whole bunch of months to make up for."
Another vampire charged me. One fingernail scraped across my cheek, and I felt blood seep from it. "Hey, you play dirty!" I protested.
Unexpectedly, the other vamps freaked. They all began gesturing and jabbering at me. The vamp that had scratched my face got off me quickly and tried to rejoin the group. They all pushed him out. "Nothla, Nothla" it sounded like they were saying. The outcast looked imploringly at me. They started chanting louder. I stood up, ready for battle.
The ostracized one looked first at his buddies, who were strangely all shunning him, then at me. With a cry like a wounded animal, he ran straight at me and into the out-turned stake. He burst into silver dirt and was gone. So were the others. They'd all politely exited when kicked-out one started screaming. "Sissies," I mumbled. So much for a good night's slaying. A total of four. Fantastic. Well, at least I'd met my daily quota.
I trudged home sullenly. The lights were on in my folks' room, so I poked my head through the door. Dad was at the computer, typing busily away, and Mom was reading a medical journal. "Hi, honey, how was the Bronx?" mom queried absently.
"The Bronze," I corrected with a laugh. I had no idea. Except for the few seconds I'd been inside purloining someone's drink, I'd mostly been surrounded by the dead. Rather, not quite so dead. So I went with the answer all parents expect from their teens, no matter the question. "Fine."
"That's nice, sweetie."
"Uh, I'm gonna turn in." I told them.
"Good," said Dad, not looking up from the computer screen. "It's a school night after all. Your mother and I decided, though, since you hardly ever go out anymore, it couldn't hurt."
"Thanks, dad. Good night."
"Night, honey." they said in unison.
As I shut the door to their room, I rubbed a sore shoulder and felt the bruised cheek, which fortunately, hadn't been facing my folks. "Couldn't hurt. Right. There's gotta be a pun in here somewhere." I said to no one as I walked across the hall into my own room. Getting ready for bed, I wondered vaguely what "Nothla" could possibly be. I kinda think I'm supposed to know stuff like that. Demon names and stuff. Hey, but what's a watcher for right? Talk to Winford tomorrow, I thought sleepily. Can't be all that bad.
"This is dreadful!" was Winford's reaction to my narrative.
It was lunch, and I was perched on top of the table, playing with a tassel I'd attached to the zipper of my backpack. Outside the library, I could hear kids rushing around, enjoying their forty-five minutes of freedom. "Huh?"
Winford was pacing. I hate it when people pace. "Awful." he mumbled.
I let go of the tassel. So not good when people mumble negative words. "Spit it out." I demanded.
"You're sure they were chanting 'Nothla'"? he asked me for the millionth time.
A breath whistled out from between my lips. "They were actually saying 'No duh.' Repeat, no *duh*."
Winford did the Signature Scully Raise. "So I know I'm not Einstein when it comes to demony stuff. I have great hearing though. They were most definitely, one hundred percent absolutely with sugar on top saying 'Nothla'. Mean anything to you?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He gestured me over to the circulation desk where a huge old book was lying open.
I followed him over and peeked at the book. "What, no illustrations?"
"No one's ever seen it."
"What 'it'?"
"Nothla."
I did a double take at the page filled with weird writing. "Wait, you're saying No-duh is an it."
"Nothla." said Winford, a frustrated edge in his voice. "He's a sort of vampire...demon, if you will."
It was my turn to do the Signature Scully Raise. "Vampire demon? Don't they belong to separate camps? You got your vampires, then you got your demons. Never the twain shall meet."
My watcher was shaking his head violently, appalled at having such an ignorant prot?g?. He hefted the book over to the table and I went back to perching on top of it. "If you must, a vampire god."
"Now we're talking." I paused. "That's really not good."
Winford ignored my observation. "The ceremony to call him is quite long and complicated and has only been attempted once in recorded history."
"Assumption. It failed."
"Correct. The key to this rather extended ceremony is that no vampire involved can spill any blood for a certain period of time."
I flashed back to the misfit of last night that committed suicide on my stake. My hand went up automatically to the scratch on my cheek, which thankfully, neither mom nor dad had seen. "Explains why they wasted no time banishing Scratchy."
"Yes." he agreed.
A lightbulb went off over my head. "So, like, now, the ceremony's jinxed. End of problem."
Again, with the violent head shaking. My hopes died. Blow all that need for the kill. I meant small kills, exceeding a quota. Not blowing past the quota like it never existed. The universe loves to toy with me. "No, it isn't. According to you, that vampire immediately staked himself. That rectifies it. The ceremony can continue."
Sigh. "Give me the cliff notes version on this ceremony."
"Simply, a group of vampires, the larger the better, comes together and vows not to spill blood for a certain time period. How long is unclear. In this time, none of the members may hunt. They live on what you saw, blood already spilled - from blood transfusion supplies, et cetera, that must be blessed first. If, like I said, there is bloodshed, the vampire responsible must quickly dispatch him or herself."
"To what end?" I asked.
"We'll get there. During this time, they must collect a group of seven girls and seven boys."
"What's the obsession with seven?"
"That ties in with the end you asked of."
Silence. I tilted my head and stared patiently at Winford. Was it my imagination, or was he milking this for all it was worth? Was he really as bored as I was? Finally, he spoke. "The purpose of the ceremony is to call Nothla from the netherworld into this one. And, once he arrives, he must be fed without delay. The feeding itself is special. Nothla's symbol..." Winford flipped some pages. "...is the pattern of feeding."
I looked at where Winford was pointing. It was this sorta house or tower shape, a long box with a coned top. Seven points were indicated on it with black dots. "One boy and one girl stand on each spot and..."
"...vampire god gets seven course meal." I finished. Another flash. "I think I complicated their plans further. Some ugly vamp tried to grab this guy in my bio class..."
"He saw you?"
"Don't worry. My folks worked for the government. I know about plausible denial. Anyhow, I think he was an intended. I stopped that, though."
"Not for long, I'm afraid." Winford turned back to the book. "I see that they're determined to go through with this. That would be the perfect explanation for the sudden decline in vampiric activity. Again."
"Great. Lulls. That's my life, a bunch of lulls punctuated by major evil. So, why they conjuring up this guy anyway?" I started playing with the tassel again.
"He's the vampire champion." said Winford ominously.
"In what way?" I twirled the tassel around my finger.
"Once Nothla is called, he cloaks the world in eternal darkness."
I stopped with the tassel. "Pause. Rewind. Play."
"Vampires no longer have to wait for the night to feed. Night will be all there is."
I looked up and out at one of the windows set high into the wall. Sunlight shone through, soft and filtered. The sun. What would the world be without it?
"Vampire buffet," I muttered. I was too bummed even to think of something witty. That's all I could come up with. "Twenty-four seven night equals a vamp smorgasbord."
"Exactly."
"Guess I'm gonna have to do something about it, huh?" I asked meekly.
"Your job as the slayer."
My sacred duty. Oh, man. I looked out at the sunshine again. New slayer truth. Some weeks are most definitely tougher than others. Don't dis the downtime.
The bell rang. "You have a study hall last period?" Winford asked as I picked up my backpack and started to leave.
"Yeah," I said softly.
"You'll need all the time you can get."
"I'll be here," I told him. I walked out the door. People were rushing around, running off to their classes. Ignorant. Oblivious. Didn't have a clue that maybe even tomorrow, they'd be bloodsucker bait.
God, I wish I were like them.