by Collins, Tim
10PM
Tonight I heard my parents telling my sister off for playing netball too well. Apparently she scored twenty-five goals in her last PE lesson and came home with her rucksack stuffed with leaflets about national tournaments, so Dad has grounded her.
I suppose I should try and hold back in the race on Wednesday, in case they find out and I get the same punishment. On the other hand, imagine the look on Jason’s smug potato face if I turn my vampire speed up to maximum and leave him floundering. Is that worth getting grounded for?
Yes, I think it is.
FRIDAY 9TH DECEMBER
Mr Byrne let us do a Secret Santa today. He put everyone’s name into a hat and we all had to draw someone out and buy them a present for a pound. I drew Darren, but then Craig drew Jason and he let me trade with him for 50p.
I thought about buying Jason some wolfsbane, a flower that’s considered harmful to werewolves. But I couldn’t find any in the florists, and if it turned out to be a myth, it would look like I’d bought him some flowers and Craig would tease me. Instead, I went to the pet shop and bought Jason a squeaky toy bone. It’s hardly subtle, but you need to match jokes to the comprehension level of your audience.
I hope Jason didn’t pick out my name. His idea of a present is probably a dead bird he’s dragged in from the garden.
SATURDAY 10TH DECEMBER
I went out to Pottsworth Moor today to race against Chloe as practice for my showdown with Jason on Wednesday. As far as I can tell, vampire top speed and werewolf top speed are pretty much the same, so even if I completely go for it, there’s no guarantee I’ll beat him.
I really need to win, though. This will be the last outing of the cross-country running club, so I won’t get another chance to triumph over Jason.
Chloe asked if she could join in the race too, and I gave her a lecture about how you need to keep your powers under wraps if you don’t want to end up in the Natural History Museum. It was entirely hypocritical of me to go on like that, but she’s newer to the supernatural realm, and needs to be more careful. Do as I say, not as I do, as Dad says.
To underline my point, I set a sensible human pace for us to jog home, although it wasn’t long before Chloe got too excited and chased after a car.
SUNDAY 11TH DECEMBER
Mum wants us all to stay with some vampires in Edinburgh for a few days after Christmas. She said it would be nice for us to go away together like a normal family. I hate her fixation with being a ‘normal family’. We’re not a normal family, we’re bloodsucking freaks, and no amount of pretending to drink coffee in motorway service stations is going to alter that.
I told her that I have my mock GCSE exams in January, and need to stay at home to revise. She tried to convince me to go with them, but after all the hassle she’s given me over the years about concentrating on my schoolwork, she could hardly insist.
She said it would be nice for me to meet some other vampires for a change, and I might even make some new friends. I told her that if Grandpa and Ivana are anything to go by, other vampires are all lazy freeloaders who expect others to fetch blood for them and I would have nothing in common with them. She said it sounded like I’d have plenty in common with them, so I said I wished she’d never transformed me and slammed the door.
MONDAY 12TH DECEMBER
I absolutely give up on this ridiculous species. Today I finally received a reply from the publisher. I’ve glued the letter directly into my diary, as it’s so staggeringly imbecilic that any attempt to summarize its contents would make my brain leak out through my ears.
Dear Nigel
Many thanks for submitting your novel, Dark Embrace of the Night, to us. Unfortunately, it’s not the sort of thing we’re looking for at the moment. We felt that much of the plot was clichéd, and the characters lacked dimension. Also, at little more than 3,000 words, it isn’t long enough to be a novel. You will need to write at least twenty times that amount, I’m afraid!
Furthermore, you might have noticed that vampires are very much in vogue at the moment, so there’s no shortage of these manuscripts doing the rounds. A word to the wise: one of our junior editors has heard that shape-shifting manticores will be the next big thing. Perhaps an idea for your next project?
Thank you once again for your submission, and sorry it wasn’t right for us.
Yours sincerely
Xander De Pfeffel MA (Cantab)
Senior Editor
I have no idea what ‘shape-shifting manticores’ are, and I can’t even be bothered googling them. Oh well, it’s their loss. I gave these fools the chance to publish a work of genuine supernatural power and they threw it away. Hear that, Mr De Pfeffel Cantab or whatever your name is? That’s the sound of the villa in the South of France you could have bought crumbling to dust.
TUESDAY 13TH DECEMBER
Mr Byrne gave out the Secret Santa presents this afternoon, and the look on Jason’s face when he opened his was a treat. I tried really hard not to laugh when he gave me a dirty look. Oh yeah, want to make something of it, Scrappy-Doo?
Someone unoriginal bought me some constipation tablets, which raised a few idiotic titters. Yeah, like that joke isn’t three months out of date.
Now I’m lying in bed and conserving my energy for the race tomorrow. I don’t want to wait twelve more hours to beat him. I want to do it now.
Time to school this fool.
WEDNESDAY 14TH DECEMBER
I couldn’t concentrate in Maths this morning because I kept glancing at Jason’s spud face and feeling angry that such a pitiful example of an inferior species could ever beat me at anything.
When at last the time came for the cross-country club to assemble, Jason sat behind me on the minibus, and kept shoving his knees into the back of my seat to annoy me.
The minibus pulled up in Pottsworth Moor car park, and I somehow resisted the temptation to turn round to Jason and shout, ‘Walkies!’ As soon as we got out of the bus, we both dashed straight off, ignoring Mr Moss’s request that we join in with his stupid warming-up exercises. We both kept a restrained pace while the others could still see us, and we were level as we approached the first bend in the path. But the minute we were out of sight of the others, we both stepped up to the pace of a good human athlete. I was reluctant to use my full vampire powers in front of Jason.
I reasoned that while he might have worked out that there was something unusual about me from previous PE lessons, the chances of him concluding anything beyond that were slim. If I went to full speed, there would be no denying that I was a supernatural, and there could be all sorts of repercussions. He’d tell his parents, they’d find my parents, the ancient war between our peoples would flare up again, my PlayStation would get broken, and so on.
Jason soon made the decision for me by zooming off ahead. I couldn’t exactly let him get away with it, could I? I unleashed my full vampire speed and bombed down the path until I caught up with him.
I pushed my body as fast as it could go, and then I looked across in disbelief as Jason pulled ahead once again. I had to face the horrible possibility that when both are running at maximum speed, a male werewolf has the edge on a male vampire. I made a solemn note to revise my letter to the manufacturers of Top Trumps.
I summoned up my last reserves of energy and I gained slightly on Jason, but it wasn’t enough. We were rapidly approaching the end of the course and I could go no faster. I was seconds away from letting my entire species down. But as we approached the last corner, I had an idea. Leaping into the air, I snapped a branch from an overhanging tree, called out Jason’s name and threw it away from the path.
Forgetting the race and his rivalry with me, Jason ran after the stick … leaving me to jog to the end of the course at a normal human pace.
So that was it. I won the race, and Jason trundled over a couple of minutes later, red-faced with anger, with the stick still clasped in his mouth. Didn’t like that, did you, little doggie?
THURSDAY 15TH D
ECEMBER
While I’m still proud of my victory yesterday, I’m worried that it came at too great a cost.
When Jason passed me in the corridor this afternoon, he said he knew I was one of the ‘cold ones’. Quick as a flash, I said I knew he was one of the hairy ones. He said at least he was alive. This comment was so below the belt that the only comeback I could think of was to repeat it in a sarcastic voice. I admit that this was nowhere near my usual standard, but it was the best I could do in the pressure of the moment.
I should have known that using my full speed in front of Jason would have serious consequences. I just hope it hasn’t awoken the ancient and deadly animosity between our races that will lead to a mass uprising of the armies of the night and envelop the world in darkness. That’s not going to look good on my end-of-year report.
FRIDAY 16TH DECEMBER
1PM
Today was the last day of term before Christmas, so we were all allowed to bring in games. I brought Connect Four, as I’ve played it so much that I know how to counter every possible move, and it’s mathematically impossible to beat me.
When Jason walked past my desk, I asked him if he wanted a game, adding that it wasn’t as hard as cross-country running. This must have struck a nerve, as he knocked all the pieces to the floor and told me to pick them up. Great retort, Jason, must have taken you ages to come up with that.
I counted to ten to stop myself feeling angry, but Jason repeated the numbers in the style of the Count from Sesame Street, which didn’t help. I reminded myself how serious a showdown between our peoples would be, and calmly picked the red and yellow counters from the floor.
I laid the pieces out on the table again. Jason swept them back down to the ground and this time I found it harder to turn the other cheek. Craig tried to stir things up by asking me what I was going to do. I said I didn’t need to do anything because Jason’s bark was worse than his bite.
I now realize it was very provocative of me to use this kind of wolfist language. Jason launched himself at me as if I were an intruder in his garden. I struggled to hold him back, but he still managed to land a firm whack to the side of my head. Obviously, as a vampire I don’t feel pain, but it’s still annoying when your skull gets bashed around like that.
I wanted to set off my vampire strength and fling the brute out of the window, but the entire class had now gathered around, and several of them were filming it on their phones. If the ancient rivalry between lycanthropes and nosferatu is to be reawakened, let’s at least try to keep it off YouTube.
I summoned up enough strength to slam Jason across the floor of the classroom. He was running back to me on all fours when Mr Wilson dashed into the room and broke the fight up.
I bet Mr Wilson doesn’t know how brave he was. He could be the first human to break up a vampire-werewolf battle since the nineteenth-century paranormal investigator Digby Kronos. And he was armed with a case full of wooden stakes, silver bullets and holy water, rather than just a whiteboard eraser.
Mr Wilson then told us to wait outside the headmaster’s office, which is where I’m writing this now, with Jason glaring at me. I’m a bit worried about what he might do. I know he took Design and Technology in his options. I just hope he hasn’t learned how to make wooden stakes yet.
8PM
At first the headmaster threatened to call our parents to collect us. I wanted to tell him that he had no idea of the forces he was unleashing. If our parents met face to face, all manner of supernatural fury would break loose. Was that something he wanted so soon after the science block had been refurbished?
In the end, I managed to avoid war by apologizing to Jason. He said sorry to me too and we were sent to sit in the corridor until the end of the day.
I told Jason that I’d seen him transform with his family on the night of the full moon, but I hadn’t told anyone because I didn’t want to rock the boat. He mulled this over for a couple of minutes before admitting that I’d probably done the right thing. He said we should keep our mouths shut to avoid our families ripping each other to pieces. I was about to say that we should let sleeping dogs lie, but I thought this might also count as an offensive turn of phrase.
When the headmaster called us back at the end of the day, we told him we’d made up. He said he’d put it down to high spirits on the last day of term, and keep it off our permanent records.
As we walked home together, we had an interesting chat about our families. Jason asked me if it was true that we killed humans. I said that it didn’t happen as often as everyone thinks, as they can recover if we don’t drain too much of their blood.
He said it was also rare for his family to kill. They always bring plenty of raw meat along on full moons so they can feed as soon as they transform and avoid the hunger that drives them to murder. He said that sometimes a human gets in the way by mistake, and gets killed or turned into a wolf, but thankfully this hadn’t happened for a long time. I was dying to tell him about Chloe, but I kept it zipped. It’s up to her whether she wants to reveal herself to Jason’s pack.
Just as Jason was turning off into his street, I asked him whether it was my supernatural speed or beauty that had made him realize I was a vampire. He said it was the night he’d spotted me reading Dracula and drinking blood in a graveyard.
Perhaps Jason isn’t as stupid as I thought.
SATURDAY 17TH DECEMBER
The Christmas holidays begin today, which should give me a rest after all the hassle of the last few weeks.
Although Christmas is traditionally a time of feasting and merriment for humans, it’s a terrible time for us. This is because humans drink so much alcohol over the festive period that their blood makes us ill, so we have to spend the whole time unfreezing flasks of safe blood in the microwave. They never taste as good as the fresh stuff, even if you use a delicious flavour like AB+.
Also, Mum and Dad refuse to buy me presents because we don’t celebrate Christmas. So what? Sanjay’s parents are Hindus and he got an Xbox 360 last year.
I went round to see Chloe this evening. She’d heard about my fight with Jason, and was all set to lecture me about controlling my temper, but I told her we’d made friends and she was very relieved. I said I was glad we’d avoided a war so my posse wouldn’t have to pop a silver cap in her, and I did some gangsta hand gestures for a joke. She said she was glad she didn’t have to waste any wooden stakes on my heart that could be used for a perfectly good garden fence.
SUNDAY 18TH DECEMBER
I called Chloe for a chat this evening, but she seemed quieter than usual, so I asked her if the novelty of being a werewolf was wearing off. She said it wasn’t, but she was very worried about what would happen during the next full moon. I have to admit that I’d been so busy congratulating myself about extending the hand of friendship to wolfkind that I’d hadn’t considered this.
Although she’s perfectly civil to me now, the animal part of her brain will take over when the next full moon comes around and she’ll rip my head off as soon as look at me. Even if she only chewed off a limb, I might never see it again.
Having said that, Dad’s book mentions a battle where a werewolf swallowed the hand of a vampire, only to look on in shock as the hand ripped its way out of its stomach and fixed itself back on to the vampire’s body, causing great discomfort and embarrassment to all.
MONDAY 19TH DECEMBER
Some carol singers called round this evening and my sister foolishly opened the door. Like anything to do with religion, Christmas carols cause us great distress, which is why we’re not supposed to answer the door at this time of year. Unfortunately, some members of our family are too dense to remember simple instructions like that.
As soon as my sister swung the door open, the singers launched into ‘Away in a Manger’, causing us all to jam our fingers into our ears and scream in agony. When they finished, Dad gave them twenty pounds on the condition that they never return. They seemed taken aback with this reaction, but I had no sy
mpathy. I don’t go round to their house and run my fingernails down a blackboard until they give me money.
TUESDAY 20TH DECEMBER
6PM
Chloe is still fretting about her next transformation. She’s calculated it will take place on Boxing Day, when she’s meant to be staying with relatives. The last thing she wants is to come round on the morning of the 27th with the shredded remains of Auntie Joyce and Uncle Phil in her mouth.
I offered to let her stay with me and pretend we’re studying for our exams, as the rest of my family will be in Edinburgh then. She agreed, and I instantly began to regret my generous offer. I was looking forward to a quiet break, and now I’ll have to spend the whole time shouting at her to get down off the couch.
10PM
You’d think that after the torture the carol singers put us through yesterday, my sister would have finally got the message that religious things make us ill. But that would be to assume that you were dealing with a rational being. This evening she threw a tantrum because Mum and Dad wouldn’t let her take part in the school nativity play. She said that it wouldn’t affect her because she didn’t feel ill when they did Grease. Like that’s the same thing! We’re talking about a dramatization of the life of Christ, not a piece of fluff about an American high school. As soon as they mentioned the baby Jesus, she’d be rolling around on the floor and projectile vomiting. It would be more like a school production of The Exorcist than the nativity story.