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Grade
11

VAMPIRES SUCK (A LOT)

 

 

“You’re kidding, right?” Delilah asked, her eyes widening slowly in pure disbelief. She shared a creaky, wooden bench with a boy, Alfred, in a dark, grave-studded cemetery in the midst of night. Bare tree branches blocked the dimly-lit moon that hung depressingly against the black sky and to further the already hated cliché, a heavy fog filled the area, weaving around gravestones like a giant web made of mist.

            “No. I’m serious, Delilah. If you have never believed anything I’ve ever said before then believe this now,” Alfred told her as they locked eyes.

            “Prove it,” Delilah said, unconvinced by Alfred’s outlandish statement.

            Alfred sighed. He opened his mouth wide and his canine teeth began to slowly elongate. Delilah gasped, and covered her mouth. They sat in silence for a moment.

            “This is…this is…” Delilah was so astonished that she couldn’t find the right words to say.

            “I’m sorry you had to find this out about me. I didn’t want to tell you at first, but I trusted you. I shouldn’t have said anything, but don’t worry, Delilah. I swear I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”

            “This is…” Delilah couldn’t do anything else except keep repeating herself.

            “I can understand if you’re shocked right now. I really can. Most people typically are but I’m hoping that you can accept me for who I am,” Alfred said.

            “This is great!” Delilah exclaimed merrily.    

Alfred lifted an eyebrow.  “It is?” he asked, surprised at how Delilah reacted so cheerfully.

            “Oh, yes, yes, yes!” Delilah wailed joyfully. She grabbed Alfred by the face and kissed him on the lips.

Alfred pulled back, stunned. “I mean usually people would get scared, call me a freak, and then run as fast as they can when I tell them,” Alfred explained.

            “Well, I love you!” Delilah cried.

            “That’s a first…wait, why is this great?” Alfred questioned, still confused from her previous statement.

            “It’s because you’re a vampire! A nightwalker! The thing that goes bump in the night! That means I can kill you!”

            “Well, I have been called some worse names—wait what?” Alfred watched puzzled as Delilah started rummaging through her backpack, going through various papers and notebooks, eagerly searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” Alfred hesitantly asked. 

            “I never told you this before but my family comes from a long line of vampire slayers,” she told him.

            Alfred’s heart skipped a beat, and his mouth dropped open in disbelief as if he’d seen a ghost. “A…long line of…um…vampire slayers?” Alfred repeated, inching further away from Delilah until he sat on the edge of the bench.

            “Yup! Just about everyone in my family has killed a vampire before,” she said, still focused on whatever was so important in her book bag.

            “Everyone?” Alfred echoed.

            “Everyone,” Delilah replied absent-mindedly.  

            “Don’t you think that’s something you should have told me before we started dating?” Alfred asked.

            “Don’t you think you should’ve told me you were a vampire before we started dating?”

            “Oh yes, I would have happily jumped at the first chance to tell you that I’m a vampire without knowing that my girlfriend went out murdering off my race as the family hobby,” Alfred sarcastically retorted.

            Delilah glanced up at Alfred with a disappointed expression. “Alfred, honey, good relationships can’t be built off of keeping secrets. We have to always be open with one another, even if it means that my entire family hates your guts and wants to kill you because you’re a vampire.” Delilah paused to tap her chin for a second. “Well, my dad already hated you and wanted to kill you because you’re my boyfriend but that’s beside the point.”

            “Darn, how will I survive without your mother’s cooking anymore?”

            “Alfred.”

            “I’ve sucked the blood out of some nasty stuff before, but your mother’s cooking made me appreciative of all the small animals I’ve killed.”   

            “Alfred.”

            “Like, I think I’d rather be drinking the blood out of a skunk than eat your mother’s Macaroni & Cheese casserole again, and trust me, skunk blood tastes absolutely disgusting.”

            “Alfred!”

            “What?”

            “Are you done?” Delilah asked crossly.  

            “…Yes.”

Delilah stopped burrowing through her bag. “Anyway, everyone in my family has killed a vampire except me. I’ve never killed one before.”

            “That’s a relief,” Alfred said, letting out a peaceful sigh.

            “What do you mean?” Delilah asked, confused.

            “I mean you said you never killed one, so you’re against what your family is doing…right?”

            “Oh, of course—“

            “That’s great!” Alfred exclaimed.

            “Not.”

            “What do you mean of course not?!”

            “I mean exactly what I said. I want to kill a vampire but I just never had any luck like my brother,” Delilah said.

            “What kind of luck does your brother have?” Alfred curiously asked. He watched as Delilah returned back to searching in her bag so he stood up and slowly started backing away towards the exit. She was too occupied to notice him trying to leave the cemetery.  

            “My older brother has killed plenty of vampires before. I remember one tried to run from him, so he tackled it, broke its leg, and strangled him to death with his bare hands!” Delilah shouted excitedly. Alfred stopped in his tracks.

            “Bare…?” Alfred couldn’t finish his sentence. A lump had formed in his throat.

            “Yeah, then after that, he cut its entire chest open and ripped the heart right out as a trophy.”

            “As a trophy?” Alfred murmured while his voice grew fainter.  

            “Yeah, you should’ve seen it! Blood was everywhere!”

            “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Alfred said. He covered his mouth as his face grew paler.  

“Found it!” Delilah said.

Alfred gulped, afraid of the object she had been searching for. “Found what?” he asked, and instantly regretted it.

            “This!” Delilah revealed a long, sharp, wooden stake from her backpack’s pocket.

Alfred would have passed out right there in the cemetery, but he knew that would just make Delilah’s job easier if he did. “Hold on now, Delilah. I know what you’re considering but think about what you’re doing. I’m your boyfriend,” Alfred said in an attempt to stop Delilah from slaying him.

            “My parents would kill me if they found out I was dating a vampire. They attend anti-vampire rallies, like, religiously,” Delilah explained as she advanced on Alfred, “you should see our house. All the ‘Vampires are the Devil’ posters get annoying sometimes.” 

            “I’m not sure if this can apply to us, but that sounds racist,” Alfred mumbled, backing up from Delilah.

            “Oh we’re not, I promise you. We kill werewolves and zombies too!” she said, and then sprung forward. She hit Alfred and they fell down, with Delilah straddling him. They started wrestling on the ground, Alfred trying his best to get Delilah off of him and escape.

            “But you said you loved me,” Alfred anxiously said, and tossing about wildly as he struggled to throw Delilah off of him.

            “Yeah, I know. It’s because this is a special opportunity for me! You are the best boyfriend ever!” she replied. “Well, were the best boyfriend ever,” she corrected.   

            “Is this just some kind of game to you?!” Alfred cried.

            “Duh! Now hold still while I stab you in the heart!”

            “Y’know, I was going to take back what I said about your mom’s cooking but this just changed my mind!”

            Alfred fought back as hard as he could, but Delilah was surprisingly strong and would not let up. She lifted the stake up, and with a quick downward jab, she forced the stake into Alfred’s chest. It slipped in with ease, and slowly Alfred stopped moving. Then, his body exploded into ashes. All that remained was his head. Delilah stood up and brushed off her skirt.

            “I can’t wait to get this mounted on the living room wall,” she said elatedly as she packed her stake and her disembodied ex-boyfriend’s head into her book bag.