by Tim Collins
“Yeah,” said Seth. “We can’t be the only ones who want to get rid of him.”
“I think we might be,” said Mr. Dashwood. “If history teaches us anything, it’s that vampires will go along with the status quo if they’re getting enough blood. And unfortunately, most of our coven now associate Viktor with that tasty fresh blood.”
“Which is exactly what he wants,” I said. “But they wouldn’t be so forgiving if they knew he had a massive supply of blood in the archive room and he could lift rations right now if he chose.”
“Brilliant idea,” said Lenora. “The next feast is on Tuesday evening. Wait until there’s a quiet moment, Nigel, then call everyone to attention and tell them.”
Mr. Dashwood grabbed my hand and shook it. “Excellent. I think that could really turn the tide.”
I was about to point out that I’d only been brainstorming rather than volunteering to confront the mental blond vampires myself. But Lenora gave me another quick kiss on the lips and declared the meeting over.
It was nice to have another brief kiss, but I was too stressed to enjoy it this time. How did I end up putting myself forward for that?
TUESDAY, MARCH 11
I can’t confront Viktor. If I say anything about the rationing, he’ll tell everyone about my secret supply, and my credibility will be staked to pieces. They’ll be much angrier with me than him. But I can’t back down. Lenora will never like me if I wimp out. It’s amazing to think that I’m going to a feast of gorgeous fresh blood tomorrow and I’m not even looking forward to it. If you’d told me that a few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed you.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12
Viktor served a couple of barrels of that mint blood at the feast tonight. I’m glad the woman with brown hair bled enough to replace the stuff I stole. Seeing me might have quickened her heart, I suppose.
When the barrels were empty, Svetlana stood up and banged the side of her glass with a silver knife.
“Greetings, ladies and gentlevampires,” she said. “To mark this wondrous occasion, the king has agreed to give a musical performance.”
The blond vampires clapped as Viktor took a wooden recorder out of his inside pocket.
He blew out a few raspy squeaks. I think it was meant to be “Three Blind Mice,” but it wasn’t easy to tell. It could have been “99 Problems” by Jay-Z for all I knew.
It was weird, because vampires are usually excellent at music. We’ve got loads of time to practice, and our superior speed gives us amazing technical skill. I’m terrific at the piano, for example. But Viktor’s effort would have been booed at a kindergarten talent contest.
He finished and looked up at the audience. Svetlana got to her feet and clapped loudly. The blond vampires, my sister, Amber, and Ellie joined in.
Lenora, Seth, Mr. Dashwood, and Henry all looked round at me. I know they were expecting me to launch into a speech, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk. Every time I tried, I glanced down at the holsters of the blond vampires and the words stuck in my throat.
I can’t die yet. I’m only in my early hundreds. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.
I was still trying to make myself say something when Seth suddenly pointed at Viktor and shouted, “You keep loads of blood for yourself! We all hate you!”
Everyone turned to look at Seth. I saw Lenora and Mr. Dashwood wincing. It was great that Seth had tried to make a speech, but he hadn’t done a very good job of expressing our views.
Viktor sank down to his throne and began to cry.
“My son is a just king!” shouted Svetlana. “He didn’t deserve that vicious outburst! Take the swine away!”
Two of the blond vampires ran up to Seth and twisted his arms behind his back. Seth turned to look at me, his eyes widening as they dragged him out.
If I’d kept my promise, that would have been me!
THURSDAY, MARCH 13
Lenora came round this morning. She said that Seth is under room arrest and his rations have been suspended.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” I said. “I tried to, but no words would come out.”
Lenora shook her head. “Well, at least Seth spoke up. And I’m glad everyone got a chance to see what a little hothead Viktor is.”
“There you go,” I said. “It all worked out all right.”
“No it didn’t,” she said. “Poor Seth’s going to starve.”
I pointed over to the window. “He’s only a couple of floors above. I’ll take some blood up to him as soon as the coast is clear.”
“Thanks,” said Lenora.
I leaned forward so she could kiss me, but she just turned and walked away. Looks like my cowardice has undone all the progress I made with her.
I hope she doesn’t fall in love with Seth now that he’s a hero. He’s about twenty times her age, though, so I doubt she will.
FRIDAY, MARCH 14
I went for a walk in the graveyard this morning and noticed that Seth’s pyramid had been destroyed. Viktor obviously wants to send a message to anyone else who might be thinking of standing up to him. Seth will be really upset when he finds out, because he spent ages building it, and even painted some pictures of Egyptian kings on the walls.
No one seemed to be out this afternoon, so I thought it would be a good time to nip up and see Seth. I packed three flasks of blood in my backpack, along with a paperback of ‘Garfield’ comic strips. I thought it would be nice for him to have something to read, and he finds books with too much text difficult.
I put my backpack on, climbed out of the window, and leaped up to Seth’s windowsill. I crouched on it and tapped on the window.
I felt really vampirey doing that. It’s the sort of thing a sexy vampire on TV would do. Obviously, he’d be doing it for some hot human girl rather than one of his friends, but it was close enough.
Seth gasped when he saw me, so I put on a scary face and drew my hands into claws for a joke. But this nearly made me lose my balance, so I had to stop.
Seth was really pleased to see me, and was very grateful for the flasks. He tried reading the Garfield book, but it gave him a headache. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I suppose Garfield looks a lot like that cat-headed god from ancient Egypt. He’s more like a man with a cat’s head than a normal cat, especially when he stands up and folds his arms.
SATURDAY, MARCH 15
I can’t believe how apathetic vampires are these days. An innocent member of our coven has been imprisoned in his room. Where are the demonstrations? Where are the banners? Where are the charity fun runs?
I suppose it would be different if Seth had any family left. But his mum was staked by an Assyrian vampire slayer and his dad’s head was ripped off by a Roman werewolf, so he has to rely on his fellow coven members now.
I bet these blase vampires will regret their inaction when it’s their turn to be starved or imprisoned. But by then it will be too late. There will be no one left to fight for them.
Something major needs to be done. I think I’ll write an angry poem.
9:00 p.m.
I’ve finished my poem now. It’s quite a departure from my old romantic style. It addresses two issues I feel strongly about, which are Seth’s imprisonment and the human cattle. It makes for controversial subject matter, but if it helps change the attitude of just one vampire, my efforts won’t have been in vain.
If it changes the attitudes of two or three, that would be a good, solid result. Four or five would be great, and six plus is probably unrealistic.
STOP AND THINK
by Nigel Mullet, age 102
All you daughters of darkness
And princes of the night,
Won’t you stop and think
If what we’re doing is right?
Poor Seth is locked up in his room
And sentenced to starvation
Who’ll set this innocent vampire free
And end his isolation?
What about those poor humans
Trapped down in the vault?
What about their suffering?
Isn’t that our fault?
Are we not all vampires,
Smart and fast and strong?
Why are we so slow to see
That what we’re doing is wrong?
Pretty good, eh? I think that deserves a celebratory glass of blood.
SUNDAY, MARCH 16
Mr. Dashwood gave us a lesson on political prisoners today. He kept saying how unjust it was for anyone to be locked up for their beliefs. The examples he used were mostly from the Vampire–Werewolf War, but you could tell he was really talking about Seth.
It was quite a clever way to protest Viktor’s behavior. He didn’t say anything that could get him into trouble, but he made everyone think about the issue. I used to think Mr. Dashwood was stuffy and boring, but I’ve come to admire him since we formed the Liberation Front. He might be old-fashioned and strict, but he’s stuck to his principles at a time when everyone else is letting themselves be ruled by fear and thirst.
At the end of the lesson I stood up and clapped. Lenora joined in, but everyone else just stared at us. They probably think we’re kissing up by applauding a teacher, but I don’t care. There are serious things going on around here and all those sheep in my class need to wake up.
MONDAY, MARCH 17
I spotted my sister wandering around this morning with a new Viktor T-shirt on. This one featured a scrawled picture of him playing his recorder. I told her it was outrageous that she was still worshiping Viktor after what he’d done to Seth. She replied that Seth was just jealous of Viktor’s musical skills.
This is what tyrants do. They brainwash the public until they’re so confused they can’t tell incompetent recorder tooting from Mozart. I’ve seen this kind of mass delusion happen with humans, but I thought vampires would be too sophisticated to fall for it. Once again, my sister shows me just how low our species can sink.
TUESDAY, MARCH 18
Another Liberation Front meeting tonight. It was weird without Seth there, even though he doesn’t usually say much.
Everyone was impressed with my story of how I went behind enemy lines to deliver blood to Seth, and my poem went down really well.
“A very powerful piece,” said Mr. Dashwood.
“That will really open everyone’s eyes when you read it at the next blood feast,” said Lenora.
Eh? I don’t remember volunteering to do that.
“No,” said Henry. “We need to go further than words this time.”
“So what do you suggest?” asked Mr. Dashwood.
“I’ll challenge Viktor to a duel,” said Henry. “I’ll defeat him, and demand he leaves the coven. No doubt his mum and those blond blokes will go with him.”
“A duel?” asked Mr. Dashwood. “How do you know his guards won’t stake you just for suggesting it?”
I thought he had a point, but I kept quiet in case they reverted to the original plan of making me read my radical poem.
“That’s all for show,” said Henry. “I’ve met hundreds of vampires like them. They’re full of talk, but when it comes down to it, they’d never kill another vampire. They’ll be banned from every coven in the world. You think they’d go through that just to protect their little leader?”
“All right,” said Mr. Dashwood. “If you’re prepared to take the risk, it’s up to you.”
“I am,” said Henry. “It’s about time someone stood up to that little twerp.”
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 19
Henry was practicing kung fu on the beach this evening, so I took a glass of blood out to him.
“I can’t take your daily ration from you,” he said.
I didn’t want to tell him about my secret supply, so I put on a pained expression and pushed the glass into his hand.
“You have it,” I said. “It’s important for all of us that you keep your strength up.”
“Thanks,” he said, and glugged it down. He handed the glass back and went back to practicing spinning kicks.
I thought it sounded reckless at first, but now I reckon Henry’s plan will work. There’s no way Viktor can win, and he’ll lose the respect of the coven if he chickens out. It’s against vampire law to refuse a duel, and Viktor will make himself about as popular as a werewolf with a crucifix if he tries it tomorrow.
THURSDAY, MARCH 20
They served cinnamon blood at the feast. Everyone was going crazy for it, but I was so worried about Henry’s plan I couldn’t really enjoy it.
I think I must have looked even paler than usual, because Mum came over to ask how I was. I said I was worried about getting my homework done on time, which seemed to get rid of her.
After the blood, we were subjected to another horrific recorder performance from Viktor. I think he was doing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” this time.
When he’d finished, Svetlana and the guards clapped. My sister and her friends cheered and whistled. That’s right. Encourage him to subject us to more torture, why don’t you?
I had a sudden urge to find Henry and talk him out of challenging Viktor. Seeing those blond vampires lined up behind the throne made me wonder if his plan was really a good idea. I started to think they might actually be crazy enough to kill for their little leader.
I looked around the crowd, desperately trying to spot Henry. I saw Hans, Mr. Dashwood, Lenora, Dad, my stupid sister, Cecil . . .
Then I saw him, but it was too late. He was striding up to the throne.
“I have an announcement to make,” said Henry. “You’ve taken control of this coven even though none of us wanted you to. You’ve imprisoned my friend for speaking out. And you’re still rationing our blood even though you’ve got more than enough.”
Viktor’s eyes darted over at Svetlana. Henry jabbed his finger in Viktor’s chest. “And that’s why I’m challenging you to a duel under the ancient laws of the Vampire Council!”
Svetlana got to her feet. “Seize him! Let’s show him how we deal with traitors!”
The blond vampires descended on Henry. Two of them grabbed his right arm, two grabbed his left arm, and one grabbed each of his legs. They held him down, while the remaining guard reached into his holster and pulled out his wooden stake.
A loud gasp rang out from the crowd. Some vampires cowered back, while others shielded their eyes as though just looking at the stake would hurt. Even I thought that was cowardly. The blond vampire held his stake above Henry.
Viktor jumped to his feet. “Stop wasting time! Kill him! Kill the traitor! I am your king and I will not tolerate it!”
“So?” asked Svetlana. “Do you renounce the duel?”
“No,” said Henry.
I was amazed at how calm he was. If that had been me down there, I’d have renounced the duel, declared Viktor the greatest leader in history, and offered to give him my PlayStation and all my games.
Svetlana pointed at Henry’s chest. The blond guard ripped his shirt open and held the stake over his heart.
At the back of the crowd, I noticed my sister running into a corner and throwing up. She was clearly far too excited. I have no idea why they allow her to come to these things.
“Now do you take it back?” asked Svetlana.
“No,” said Henry.
The room was silent except for my sister’s retching.
“We’ll let this one pass,” said Svetlana. “But rest assured, we will not tolerate traitorous behavior again.”
The blond vampire lifted the stake away and a wide smile spread across Henry’s face.
I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn’t believe Henry’s gamble had paid off. It looked like those blond vampires weren’t crazy enough to use their stakes after all.
Viktor sprang up. His pale face had turned purple.
“Don’t let him get away with it!” yelled Viktor. “Teach him a lesson!”
“Let’s talk about this later, dear,” said Svetlana.
“No!” shouted Viktor. He s
mashed his recorder on the arm of the throne. The top half split away and fell down to the floor. “I’m king! I decide who gets taught a lesson!”
“Calm down, darling,” said Svetlana. Viktor rushed over to Henry and raised the remains of his splintered recorder over his chest. He slammed it down, forcing the recorder through Henry’s ribcage and into his heart.
Henry’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth. He grasped at the instrument, then his hands sank down and his body froze. His skin tightened over his face, turning dark gray. It was such a horrible thing to watch, I thought I might have to join my sister in the puking corner.
A sound like a deflating tire filled the room. I turned and saw the entire coven was staring at Viktor with their fangs drawn. They were all hissing.
FRIDAY, MARCH 21
No sign of Viktor today. He hasn’t been seen since he pushed his way through the hissing crowd last night. He’s probably sobbing in his room.
It’s too late now. He can’t take back what he did.
I spotted a couple of Viktor’s guards patrolling the corridors with their hands on their holsters. No doubt Svetlana sent them out to quell any uprisings.
No signs of any yet, though. Everyone seems confused and shocked rather than angry. If a vampire kills another vampire, their coven leader is supposed to restrain them and alert the Vampire Council. No one seems to know what happens if the leader himself is guilty.
I e-mailed the Vampire Council last night, though I’m not expecting much. They haven’t even replied to my last one yet.
I helped Mike and Rob carry Henry’s body down to his room this morning. We stuck it in his coffin and nailed the lid down. That’s one advantage of resting in coffins rather than beds, I suppose.