Young Writers Society

3

I ran after the girl, unfurling my whip with a hiss.

“What was that?” I yelled. She laughed, a light, twinkling sound. It was scary enough to make me shiver. I drop my bag and push it behind me with a foot.

“Just a sweet little message from my master.” The girl dropped everything she was carrying and stared at me. Papers fluttered to the ground, and settled around us. We are in a back hallway, away from the classes. I back up and grab my small knife that is always secreted in my bag.

“Who is that?” I ask, raising an imperious eyebrow. She seemed to grow older. Her white blond hair shortened and her nails grew. She was, without a doubt, a vampire.

I grasp my knife with sweaty fingers. She laughed at me again, that horrible, liting laugh.

She lunged at me, grabbing my wrist. She pulls me around, her nails tearing into my skin. Scarlet drips of blood, my blood, fall on the floor, creating little designs on the floor. She stops and brings my wrist closer to her nose, inhaling deeply. I wrench my wrist away and bring it to my tongue. I hold my breath as I lick my wound, watching the girl’s expression change from contemptment to horror and disgust. I wipe my wrist on my blazer. Then I bring my knife up and force it underneath her neck.

“Sing like a bird.” I say. She shakes her head. She brings back her elbow and elbows me in the stomach. I clutch my stomach in agony. My fingers tighten around my whip, my primary weapon, and with difficulty, I stand up and flick my wrist, making my whip curl around her wrists. She screeched and moved her arms so that my whip flew out of my hands. She ripped her hands free and my whip went to pieces. I felt tears fill my eyes and I forced them back, remembering what many of my teachers would tell me. Never show weakness. Cry in front of a victim and you’re done. The voices echo through my head.

I grasp the knife tighter, again aware that I’m holding it. On a whim, a reach out and grab the girl’s arm. I pull her toward me and drive my dagger into her heart. It’s a dagger made out of emery and diamond, the two substances that, when put together, can kill a vampire.

She screamed, one final gut twisting, heart wrenching scream. Blood spurts onto my blazer, and I’m covered in it, my uniform gone.

I wrench the knife out and let the body fall, grabbing my bag. I blindly make my way to my weaponry class. I feel shattered. I had just taken a life. Never show weakness. Screw my Professors. Tears fall down my face, in remorse and shame.

I push the glass door leading to the arena we use as weaponry class.

“Oh. My. God. Larissa, what happened?” the professor, Mistress Nora runs up beside me and leads me to a hard wooden bench.

“Sit.” She tells me. I obey and remove my bloody blazer. Then I reaccount the story, my Mistress listening intently.

“Let me see the blade.” She says. I hand it over, and Nora brushes her boyishly short hair out of her face, examining my blade. With a smile, she give it back.

“You just killed your first vampire.” She tells me proudly. She pats me on the back, like a mother praising her child.

“So why do I feel like crap?” I ask. Nora raised an eyebrow.

“Because she was your first one. You’ll feel bad for the first few times.” She tells me. “Can I get you anything?”

“Some tea? A new whip? A different life?” I ask. I pull my bloody shirt away from where it’s sticking to my stomach.

“Let me tell you what.” Nora begins, “I’ll take you to my weapon vault, then you go upstairs and change, and I’ll work on the life thing, okay?” I nod, semi-cheered up.

The vault is massive. It has weapons to cater to every person in the academy. Nora takes me to the whip section and she lets me try them out. None of them feel right. She hands me a beautiful golden whip, much like my old one. I test it out.

“Perfect.” I purr, feeling like my old self. Nora pushes me toward the door.

“Run along.” She told me. “You look like you need sleep.” I nod my thanks and exit the vault, my new whip in my bag.

I hurry back to my dorm and shower eagerly, attempting to wash to the blood off me. Then I curl up in bed, more than happy to end the day.