Monster Problems: Vampire Misfire

by R. L. Ullman

  His question catches me off guard. Motto? What’s that? But then I remember the black banner and the saying beneath the Van Helsing crest.

  “You must believe in things you cannot imagine.”

  “Very good, Mr. Murray. Yes, that is correct. You must believe in things you cannot imagine. Do you know what that means?”

  He’s got me there. I’ve never really thought about it.

  “I suppose it means there’s more to this world than meets the eye,” I say.

  “In part,” Hexum says, his lips curling into a thin smile. “It means there are things in this world that cannot be explained by science. You see, Mr. Murray, there are two types of creatures in this world, and they live by entirely different sets of rules. There are the Naturals, ordinary creatures, living their pedestrian lives according to the laws of nature. You know them well. They go to school, they go to work, they have offspring, they die.”

  Well, that makes being human sound lovely.

  “But there is another type of creature,” he continues. “The Supernatural creature, who lives by a force far more chaotic and unpredictable than nature. A force so powerful it can give life back to the dead. Tell me, Mr. Murray, which set of rules do you live by?”

  “The Supernatural one?” I guess.

  “Very good,” Hexum says. “You are a Supernatural, after all. But you do not think like a Supernatural. No, no. You think like a Natural. And when you think like a Natural, it is hard to ‘believe in things you cannot imagine.’ Do you understand, Mr. Murray?”

  “I-I think so.”

  “If you are truly going to be a Supernatural, you must learn to think like a Supernatural. This will be the focus of our lesson today.”

  Suddenly, a lightbulb flashes in my head. Maybe that’s why this vampire thing isn’t working. Maybe it’s because I’m not thinking like a vampire. I’m thinking like a normal kid—a Natural—but I’m not.

  “Enough talk,” Hexum continues, “now we begin.”

  Hexum taps his walking stick on the floor, and I realize my pain is about to begin.

  ***

  At dinner I can barely lift my fork to my face.

  And it’s not just because my arm is sore, which it is, but also because I don’t have an ounce of brainpower left. After an afternoon with Hexum, I’m mentally fried.

  “You okay?” Hairball asks. “You look like a zombie.”

  “I’m not sure,” I murmur. “I just experienced the worst two hours of my entire life.”

  “What did he make you do?” Aura asks. As usual, she’s not eating anything.

  “Turn into a bat,” I say.

  “How’d that go?” InvisiBill asks. I can’t see him, but a slice of pizza magically lifts off of his tray.

  “Not well,” I say. “Over and over and over again.”

  “I’m so sorry, Bram,” Aura says.

  “I think Hexum is convinced I’m a complete waste of vampire DNA.”

  “Ouch,” Stanphibian says.

  Well, if I didn’t know how bad it was, I know it now because Stanphibian rarely says anything. But is it really my fault I can’t turn into a bat? Maybe not all vampires are meant to be bats. Maybe I’m just not your typical vampire. I mean, look at me now. It’s not like I’m sitting here sucking blood for dinner.

  “Hey, gang!” comes a familiar voice.

  “Rage!” we all exclaim.

  “It’s great to be back,” he says, sliding his tray onto the table and squeezing in between Stanphibian and Hairball.

  “How do you feel?” I ask.

  “Great!” he says, stabbing into his steak with his fork. “Better than great actually. I really needed that rest.”

  We watch him stuff his face like he hasn’t eaten in days. He seems completely normal. Nothing like the purple beast that nearly squished me to death.

  “Just out of curiosity, do you remember anything that happened?” I ask.

  “Nope,” he says, looking at me with a screwy expression on his face. “The last thing I remember is that female zombie taking a swing at me. After that, nothing.”

  Wow. Okay then.

  “Well, we’re glad you’re back,” Aura says. “You scared us for a while.”

  “A long while,” Hairball says.

  “Dr. Hagella wants me to sit out of Survival Skills for a few weeks,” Rage says. “She put this thing on me to monitor my blood pressure.”

  He raises his right arm to show us a device wrapped around his wrist with big, flashing numbers on it.

  “Well, your blood pressure looks normal,” Aura says.

  “Thank goodness,” I say, “for everyone’s sake.”

  We all laugh, including Rage.

  “So, I also have some exciting news,” Aura says. “While Bram was being tortured by Hexum, I used my free time to start cataloging Van Helsing’s private library. You’ll never guess what I found.”

  “Van Helsing’s sense of humor?” Hairball says.

  “No,” she says. “A copy of The Alchemy of Reanimation, Volume I.”

  “Reani-what?” Rage asks, his mouth full.

  “Reanimation,” Aura says. “It’s the science of bringing the dead back to life.”

  Suddenly, I remember my conversation with Hexum. It sounds like some Natural was using science to bend the laws of nature, which probably isn’t a good thing.

  “It’s a pretty fascinating read,” she says. “It has all of this theory on how to do it, with charts and calculations and stuff. But to do it, you need the skeleton of a dead person.”

  “So?” InvisiBill says, as we’re forced to watch his chewed pizza rolling down his throat.

  “So?” Aura says. “What’s been going on around here lately?”

  “Bones are being stolen,” I say.

  “Exactly,” she says. “I think someone is trying to reanimate these dead people.”

  “Yuck,” Hairball says.

  “But that’s not all,” she says. “You’ll never guess who wrote the book?”

  Everyone looks at one another.

  “Donald Duck?” Hairball guesses.

  “No,” Aura says. “Professor Claude Faustius.”

  My fork slips from my hand and clangs on my plate.

  “Seriously?” I say. “The Black Magic guy?”

  “Yep,” she says. “He published it a few years ago.”

  “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t teach here anymore?” Rage says. “I bet Van Helsing didn’t approve of that.”

  “That’s probably why his office is locked up,” I say. “So, nobody can get inside to see what he did.”

  “But here’s the thing,” Aura says. “There are two volumes to the Alchemy of Reanimation. I could only find the first one in Van Helsing’s library. The second volume is supposed to tell you how to actually do it. I bet it’s inside Faustius’ office. I bet there’s a clue in there about those grave robbers too.”

  “But we can’t get in there,” Rage says. “It says ‘Entry Forbidden,’ remember? Plus, it’s locked up like crazy.”

  “Maybe for you,” Aura says smiling, “but not for a ghost.”

  CREEPIN’ IT REAL

  I can’t believe we’re doing this.

  I mean, we were just punished by Van Helsing last night! Yet, here we are, hiding in a row of thorny hedges, risking our necks on another one of Aura’s crazy hunches. If we’re caught it probably means the end of our little gang, but we’ve got to find out the truth. After all, there are just too many strange things going on.

  First, zombies are digging up graves and stealing the bones of dead people. Then, Aura discovers that creepy book in Van Helsing’s private library about bringing the dead back to life.

  Are they related?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  But here’s the kicker.

  The book was written by Professor Claude Faustius. The very same Professor Claude Faustius who used to teach Black Magic right here at the Van Helsing Academy. The very same Professor Claude Faustius
whose office is in complete lockdown mode.

  More than a coincidence?

  Yeah, I’d buy that.

  So that’s why we’re camped out here in the bushes. Well, at least Rage, Stanphibian, Hairball, and I are camped out in the bushes. We’re waiting for all of the teachers to go home so we can break into Faustius’ office and solve the mystery once and for all.

  Aura is on lookout duty, floating high above the main building. InvisiBill is stationed inside, scouting out the professors. The rest of us are stuffed inside this thicket, way too close for anyone’s comfort.

  Yet, surprisingly, everything is going smoothly.

  At least, so far.

  Getting by Vi Clops was pretty simple. All we had to do was deliver another dozen pizzas and she was down for the count. I never knew outwitting a cyclops would be so easy, but according to Aura I still have lots to learn.

  We just need the professors to go home for the night. Since they keep different hours we brainstormed ideas on how to get them all out of the building at once. InvisiBill wanted to pull the fire alarm but we told him not to do it. That would definitely raise suspicions. I just hope he listens.

  In the end we agreed our best option was to just wait them out. Which probably means we’re stuck here for a while.

  Suddenly, a horrific, fishy smell assaults my nostrils.

  “Ugh! What’s that?” Hairball whispers.

  “Sorry,” Stanphibian says.

  “Seriously?” Rage whispers. “Are you trying to put me back in the infirmary?”

  Before going on this crazy adventure, we debated if Rage should even come along. After all, he’s supposed to be resting. But after arguing with each other for a whole thirty-minutes, Rage told us he was coming no matter what so that was a complete waste of time.

  I look up at the cupola to see if Aura is giving us any signals, but she’s facing the other way, keeping an eye out for unexpected stragglers. She sort of looks other-worldly in the moonlight, kind of like a guardian angel.

  Just then, something comes crashing through the brush, knocking Hairball and I on our backsides.

  “Hey!” Hairball yells.

  “Shut it, fluffy cakes,” InvisiBill whispers. “They’re coming.”

  I glance up at Aura. She gives a thumbs up and phases through the wall.

  Someone’s exiting the building.

  “No noises,” I whisper, “from any body parts.”

  Just then, Holmwood and Morris step through the doors.

  I’m closest to the doors, so I have the best vantage point. The two professors are having an intense conversation, but instead of heading over to the Faculty Residence Hall, they stop on the front porch.

  What’s going on? Why aren’t they leaving?

  They’re speaking in low tones. I tilt my head, trying to make out what they’re saying.

  “—long did he say he’d be gone?” Professor Holmwood asks.

  “He didn’t,” Professor Morris answers. “I offered to ride along, but he looked like he had a burr in his saddle and said he needed to go alone. All I could do was insist he take some special equipment with him. There wasn’t much else I could do.”

  “He’s so stubborn,” Professor Holmwood says. “I certainly hope he’s careful. This is a dangerous appointment with a most unsavory character.”

  “Like a snake in the grass,” Professor Morris says.

  “Please, Quincy,” Professor Holmwood says, “if you hear anything, anything at all, let me know.”

  “Of course, Lucy,” Professor Morris says. “Fortunately, he’s a very competent fellow.”

  “Yes,” she says. “That’s precisely why I’m worried.”

  “Well, I’m going to take my evening stroll,” Professor Morris says, “Would you like to join me?”

  “No thank you,” she says. “I need to do some lesson planning for tomorrow. It’s skin-rider day.”

  “Exhilarating,” he says, tipping his hat. “Well, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” Professor Holmwood says.

  Then, they go their separate ways.

  “What was that all about?” Rage whispers.

  “I have no idea,” I answer.

  “Shhh!” InvisiBill interjects. “Shut up.”

  Just then, Professor Seward exits the building carrying a tall stack of test booklets. I bet my ‘Monsters in the Medieval Era’ exam is in that pile. He’s probably grading them tonight. Boy, did I screw that one up.

  Suddenly, a strong wind kicks up out of nowhere, blowing several booklets from the top of his pile onto the front porch.

  “Unbelievable,” Professor Seward mutters.

  As he bends over to pick them up, I spot something out of the corner of my eye and my heart stops beating. One of the booklets blew off of the porch and landed right next to my shoe! If Seward reaches into the bushes to get it, we’ll be caught!

  “HOOT! HOOT!”

  Huh? What’s that? It sounded like an owl caught in a blender up above.

  “HOOT!” it repeats.

  All of us look up, including Professor Seward.

  And then, “SCOOT!”

  Scoot? What bird says—?

  Suddenly, I feel like a world-class dufus.

  It’s Aura! She’s making a distraction.

  I snatch the booklet and toss it back on the porch. Right on cue, Professor Seward scoops it up with all the others and goes merrily on his way.

  Whew! That was close.

  Now there’s just one left.

  The one I’m most worried about.

  I hear Hexum before I see him, the TAPPING of his walking stick announcing his arrival. I hold my breath as he makes his way across the front porch.

  C’mon. Keep going. Keep going.

  Hexum walks down the front steps.

  Yes!

  Hexum steps onto the driveway.

  Yes! Yes! Yes!

  And then he stops.

  No! No! No!

  Hexum stands there, his cape billowing in the wind.

  What’s he doing? Why isn’t he leaving?

  Then, he turns and my heart skips a beat!

  He’s staring into the bushes!

  I freeze.

  Does he see us? Is he looking at me?

  I don’t know what to do.

  “HOOT!”

  That’s Aura! She’s creating another diversion.

  “HOOT!”

  Hexum looks up and smiles. “A hoot indeed,” he says loudly. Then, he extends his walking stick and continues on his way.

  No one moves until he’s clear out of sight.

  “Thank heavens,” Rage whispers, collapsing onto my back. “I thought we were going to die.”

  “Stop yapping and get up,” Hairball whispers. “Before we do die.”

  After that, all of our best-laid plans for a ‘slow and stealthy’ break-in are chucked out the window. We race inside the building and book over to the faculty wing. Thankfully, no one is around. Nevertheless, I keep my eyes peeled for any of Crawler’s critters who might report us via the world wide web.

  Eventually, we reach Faustius’ office and skid to a stop. After crashing into InvisiBill, I take a quick count. We’re all here, except for one. Where’s Aura?

  Just then, a pair of legs materializes through the ceiling over our heads.

  “Ahhh!” Rage screams.

  Aura lands smack in the middle of us.

  Suddenly, there’s a loud BEEPING noise. We go into panic mode, trying to find the source of the noise.

  “It’s Rage’s blood pressure watch,” InvisiBill says.

  “Turn it off!” Hairball orders.

  “I can’t!” Rage says. “There’s no off button!”

  “Give me that,” Hairball says, ripping it off of Rage’s wrist and crushing it in his hand. “There’s your off button.”

  “Ow!” Rage says, rubbing his arm. “Did you have to take half my skin with it? And Aura, seriously? Was that really necessary?”

  �
�Sorry,” Aura says. “I took a shortcut after making sure Hexum was really gone.”

  “Hexum may be gone,” Hairball says. “But what about Van Helsing?”

  We look down the hallway. Van Helsing’s door is closed, but that doesn’t mean he’s not inside.

  “I think he’s gone,” Rage says. “Didn’t you hear what Holmwood and Morris were talking about? They said he went out for some kind of dangerous appointment.”

  “But they never said his name,” InvisiBill adds. “Maybe it was Crawler and not Van Helsing?”

  “Only one way to find out,” I say, making my way down the hall.

  I put my ear against the door. There aren’t any noises coming from inside, not even a crackling fire. Then, I realize the door is cool to the touch.

  “He’s not there,” I say.

  “Are you sure?” Hairball asks. “Maybe Aura should phase in there.”

  “No need,” I say. “I think we’re good to go.”

  “Then let’s get this over with,” Rage says. “Before someone shows up.”

  We hustle back to Faustius’ door. With seven locks and one ‘Entry Forbidden’ sign, Van Helsing couldn’t have been any clearer.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Aura.

  “Really, Bram?” she says, rolling her eyes.

  Then, she steps straight through the door.

  “Okay, this is really happening,” Rage says, his head in his hands.

  “I’ll keep a lookout,” InvisiBill says, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. “But make it snappy.”

  Making it snappy sounds great, but there’s nothing the rest of us can do but wait. I mean, Aura’s been inside only a few seconds, but it already seems like an eternity. That’s when I realize we haven’t heard from her.

  I lean against the door. “Aura, can you hear me?”

  But there’s no response.

  I knock hard. “Aura?”

  “Cut it out!” comes her muffled voice. “I hear you. I’m just getting my bearings. It’s really dark in here.”

  Whew! She’s safe.

  “Can you see at all?” I ask, this time much quieter.

  “A little,” she says. “Some light is filtering through a boarded-up window, but that’s about it. This place is big-time creepy. There’s all sorts of scientific equipment in here. Microscopes and test tubes and beakers. Is that an operating table? Oh, yuck!”