Vampire Academy
Fall On Your Tongue Like Pixie Dust
Gerard’s P.O.V.
Imagine that you’re floating, completely at peace, in a painless, worriless, soundless world. Imagine you’re drifting through time and space, eyes closed, limbs spread out and free. Just floating…just floating. Imagine having the best night’s sleep you have ever had, no nightmares or bouts of insomnia. Just pure, uninterrupted sleep. You’re warm and safe; nothing can harm you and you are perfectly aware of that. You’re a child again, innocent and completely carefree. Bad things don’t exist; people don’t exist. Now imagine a voice penetrating that peace, that comfort, that sleep. It’s a faraway voice at first, echoing through the empty spaces of your comfort zone, your perfect sleep. It’s there, like an annoying housefly and it's getting closer and closer. It’s calling your name. Eventually the voice is at it’s loudest, it’s dragging you from sleep and back into the real world, back to problems and destruction and no sense of security. It’s dragging you back to the jungle.
“Gerard! Hey, Hey, Gerard! Wake up fucker!” I was jerked completely out of sleep as there was a small thud and a jolt of pain. Frank had landed on my stomach. I cried out and shoved him as hard as I could off of my bed. Truth be told, I didn’t really shove him because he hurt me, no, I’m pretty sure I shoved him because he took away my peace. “It’s aliiiive!” He laughed, covering his face and scooting back over to his clothes, books, and schedule. I sighed and shook my head. It had been so perfect…and that’s the problem, isn’t it?
“What time is it?” I snapped, trying to find a clock in the dark room. The fact that there were no windows to see the sun with was a terrible, terrible idea on the school’s part. A bunch of lethargic teenagers in dark rooms with no other light but candles?
“8:45. We completely missed breakfast.” He said almost immediately, stripping his clothes off and grabbing his robes. I eyed him suspiciously.
“How do you know that?” He stopped pulling his shirt on, which left him standing in nothing but his blue boxer briefs, and cocked an eyebrow. He then showed me his right arm, and chuckled. A watch. Of course. “Also, on the schedule it says that breakfast’s from 7:00 to 9:00, but then first period starts at 9:10, and we have no idea what the fuck we’re doing so, yeah…no breakfast. Which sucks because I was really looking forward to…” As he continued to ramble on I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed my own robes and books. I slipped them on with ease, noting that they didn’t look much different from what I normally wore. Black shirt, black pants, black robe, and black boots.
“There!” Frank exclaimed, twirling around in his robes like some sort of short fashion model. “I thought they’d be a little cooler than this…but….you know…” He smirked and pulled at them a little. “You think they make me look fat?” His face contorted and I couldn’t help but laugh.
First period, Vampire History, hadn’t been hard to find. A few left turns and a couple pauses for direction and I was sitting at an old, rickety wooden desk that was big enough for two people in a room that was the size of a typical classroom. However, this was not your typical classroom. Typical classrooms weren’t in underground pockets of compressed dirt. They weren’t covered from wall to wall in pieces of dark, violent art and cryptic letters sent from one famous vampire to another. Typical classrooms had fluorescent lights and even nicer desks than the ones they had at the academy. Typical classrooms didn’t have Mr. Holtcombe.
All of the kids stared in awe as Mr. Holtcombe mouthed off the frantic ramblings of a schizophrenic. He was an impossibly tall, lanky man with a balding cul-de-sac hairdo and eyes the color of metallic green. He wore a pinstripe suit on his frail, skeleton-esque frame, and his wiry glasses sat, ready to fall, at the end of his hooked nose. God knows what went on in the man’s head, but he was absolutely one-hundred percent, without a doubt, fucking insane.Before we could even got situated he went off about how the way we were sitting didn’t match the paradox of the…thingy that… In any case, he moved all of us around according to his own personal preference. Luckily, he put Bobby and Cheech next to me, or at least in my proximity. As he explained more about his background and his three darling cats and his rainbow Parakeet, Twinklestone, Bobby and Cheech would glance back at me every so often, half amused, half petrified, wanting to laugh, but afraid what would happen if they did.
“So, you see,” Mr. Holtcombe muttered in a frail, shaky, Scottish accent, pausing briefly to breathe. Dear god, he was one of those people. The people who breathe at completely pointless and inappropriate intervals, “in this class we will be learning about the,” Pause, “many famous vampires that walked this earth, and even went to this school.” Pause, “I am proud to say that I have met over half of them,” Pause, “oh, did I mention that I am Mr. Holtcombe?” To be polite we all nodded slowly, even though it was well over the fourth time he’d said it. “Yes, yes, well…would anyone like to guess my age?” We all exchanged awkward glances and a sort of uncomfortable air settled in the room. “How about you, dear boy?” With a pale, bony hand he pointed to a blonde kid, who had been laughing hysterically at Mr. Holtcombe since he got there, sitting at the front of the room. His smile faded and his face flushed. He looked around the room, searching for a way out.
“Er…seventy?” He mumbled. Mr. Holtcombe smiled a thin, wiry smile.
“No, but good try!” He paused, this time for dramatic effect, “Two hundred and fourty three!” A few kids gasped. Even I was shocked to hear this. “Surprised, eh? I’m not as young as I look! That’s what being a Vampire’s all about, right?” Pause, “You get to lose your mortality and glide through the centuries and bite people, am I right? It’s all about gore and lust and beauty and the unknown, no?” A few kids nodded; of course this was just to humor the man. I, on the other hand, nodded in pure fascination. That’s exactly what the man was at that moment…fascinating… “Wrong.” He stated simply, clicking his tongue, “This mentality is completely and utterly wrong. It’s what the books and the stories and society had made of Vampires. As soon as you learn to ignore these…common misconceptions, then you will be much better off.” He walked to the front of his room where he had hundreds of books stacked up in enormous piles. He searched for a minute then plucked out a large, dusty, black book from one of the smaller piles, though I had no idea how he could even see with nothing but the dim candle light to aide him. As he held it up we realized, as soon as our eyes focused, that it was what seemed to be a decrepit copy of our Vampire History book. “Now, get your books out and turn to page twenty seven. Today we are learning,” Pause, “about a man named Afanasy Evgeny Bresinovia. He is possibly the greatest Vampire of our time.” He began to pace around the room; this topic seemed to make his pride swell, his voice even got a little stronger, a little louder. “I say our time because, after seven-hundred and eighty-three years of life he is the oldest living Vampire in existence. He has started hundreds of wars” Pause, “with various Vampiric leaders, and even a few human ones. He has witnessed the rise and fall of the world’s greatest empires. He has lived” Pause, accompanied by a grand gesture of the hands and a wide smile, showing sharp stained teeth, “through every plague you can ever imagine, and he even created what is known today as Vampiric Tongue…”
Mikey’s P.O.V.
“You look rough, Mikes.” Ray commented, but I knew that was an understatement. Rough did not even begin to describe how horrible I felt. It was like someone had tied me up in a burlap sack and smacked me up against a brick wall over and over and over again. Actually, it felt far worse than that. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that even though the nightmares of the previous night had been the worst so far…they had been the worst so far. I rubbed my eyes and groaned in response to this thought. Knowing it wasn’t over was possibly the worst thing in the world, but why? Why me? As I contemplated this, Dave had come over and sat with us on the ground in front of the school. It was raining, as usual. “What, did you go to a party without us, Mikes?” Dave laughed in that…voice of his, nudging me in the rib. I really wished he’d stop calling me Mikes; more than that I wished he’d just go the fuck away. When I didn’t answer he nudged me again. I felt the anger that I didn’t even know I had the energy to have swell up inside me. “Seriously, what’s up?” His face fell, I merely looked at him and shook my head, not wanting to start an argument, or blow up in his face. I had to count on Dave’s short attention span to get me through the next few minutes, before I was off to class and out of their sight. Dave looked at Ray and sighed. “Whatever.” He stated plainly, getting up and strutting over to a gaggle of girls that giggled and blushed whenever he came around. Thank god. I turned back to Ray, who tried to give me a look of genuine worry, but then ruined it by glancing longingly at Dave’s entourage out of the corner of his eye.
“No sleep…” I mumbled, staring at Ray, who still wasn’t paying attention.
“Why not? What the hell were you doing all night?” His eyes were still fixated on the group. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes again.
“I was having nightmares…I haven’t slept in a while…last night was horrible, it was like-”
“Matt! Hey, man, what’s up?” Ray greeted Matt, blowing me off to give him a high-five and scoot over so he could sit down against the cold, wet, uninviting brick wall.
“Not much, Toro, not much. Where’s Dave?” Ray pointed to the crowd, and thus began their staring. Just like that I completely disappeared. I no longer existed. Instead of trying to get their attention, and waste my fucking time, I merely got up and walked into school, just like I wanted.
I passed hundreds of kids in the hallways. Groups of preps, groups of jocks; I passed groups of teachers, and groups of Goths. In my zombie-like state I felt a certain disconnection with the rest of the world. Like I started to think about things I’d never even given thought to before. I wondered how these kids saw me. The random kid? The jock? What? For some reason, it was killing me, I wanted to know…but maybe it was because I couldn’t figure it out myself for the life of me. This “disconnection” was something I’d always heard about, but never thought I could feel. After a few short seconds I began to hate this feeling more than anything in the world. Somehow, tired as I was, in that moment of hate and confusion I realized something, and as I pushed through the crowds of kids I suddenly knew exactly where I wanted, no, where I needed, to go. I took a few turns and avoided tripping over various shoes and objects lying in the hallways. Finally, after using every bit of strength I had left, I made it to the office. I stumbled in, tripping over my own legs, almost bashing my face on some lady’s desk.
“Hello, can I help you?” She asked. She wore a shockingly red power suit with matching lipstick, and her dirty blonde hair was pulled into a tight pony tail. Surprisingly, she was friendly as anyone could be. I nodded, feeling myself growing weaker by the minute. If I didn’t sit down soon I was sure to collapse.
“I…I need to speak to the counselor.”
Imagine that you’re floating, completely at peace, in a painless, worriless, soundless world. Imagine you’re drifting through time and space, eyes closed, limbs spread out and free. Just floating…just floating. Imagine having the best night’s sleep you have ever had, no nightmares or bouts of insomnia. Just pure, uninterrupted sleep. You’re warm and safe; nothing can harm you and you are perfectly aware of that. You’re a child again, innocent and completely carefree. Bad things don’t exist; people don’t exist. Now imagine a voice penetrating that peace, that comfort, that sleep. It’s a faraway voice at first, echoing through the empty spaces of your comfort zone, your perfect sleep. It’s there, like an annoying housefly and it's getting closer and closer. It’s calling your name. Eventually the voice is at it’s loudest, it’s dragging you from sleep and back into the real world, back to problems and destruction and no sense of security. It’s dragging you back to the jungle.
“Gerard! Hey, Hey, Gerard! Wake up fucker!” I was jerked completely out of sleep as there was a small thud and a jolt of pain. Frank had landed on my stomach. I cried out and shoved him as hard as I could off of my bed. Truth be told, I didn’t really shove him because he hurt me, no, I’m pretty sure I shoved him because he took away my peace. “It’s aliiiive!” He laughed, covering his face and scooting back over to his clothes, books, and schedule. I sighed and shook my head. It had been so perfect…and that’s the problem, isn’t it?
“What time is it?” I snapped, trying to find a clock in the dark room. The fact that there were no windows to see the sun with was a terrible, terrible idea on the school’s part. A bunch of lethargic teenagers in dark rooms with no other light but candles?
“8:45. We completely missed breakfast.” He said almost immediately, stripping his clothes off and grabbing his robes. I eyed him suspiciously.
“How do you know that?” He stopped pulling his shirt on, which left him standing in nothing but his blue boxer briefs, and cocked an eyebrow. He then showed me his right arm, and chuckled. A watch. Of course. “Also, on the schedule it says that breakfast’s from 7:00 to 9:00, but then first period starts at 9:10, and we have no idea what the fuck we’re doing so, yeah…no breakfast. Which sucks because I was really looking forward to…” As he continued to ramble on I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed my own robes and books. I slipped them on with ease, noting that they didn’t look much different from what I normally wore. Black shirt, black pants, black robe, and black boots.
“There!” Frank exclaimed, twirling around in his robes like some sort of short fashion model. “I thought they’d be a little cooler than this…but….you know…” He smirked and pulled at them a little. “You think they make me look fat?” His face contorted and I couldn’t help but laugh.
First period, Vampire History, hadn’t been hard to find. A few left turns and a couple pauses for direction and I was sitting at an old, rickety wooden desk that was big enough for two people in a room that was the size of a typical classroom. However, this was not your typical classroom. Typical classrooms weren’t in underground pockets of compressed dirt. They weren’t covered from wall to wall in pieces of dark, violent art and cryptic letters sent from one famous vampire to another. Typical classrooms had fluorescent lights and even nicer desks than the ones they had at the academy. Typical classrooms didn’t have Mr. Holtcombe.
All of the kids stared in awe as Mr. Holtcombe mouthed off the frantic ramblings of a schizophrenic. He was an impossibly tall, lanky man with a balding cul-de-sac hairdo and eyes the color of metallic green. He wore a pinstripe suit on his frail, skeleton-esque frame, and his wiry glasses sat, ready to fall, at the end of his hooked nose. God knows what went on in the man’s head, but he was absolutely one-hundred percent, without a doubt, fucking insane.Before we could even got situated he went off about how the way we were sitting didn’t match the paradox of the…thingy that… In any case, he moved all of us around according to his own personal preference. Luckily, he put Bobby and Cheech next to me, or at least in my proximity. As he explained more about his background and his three darling cats and his rainbow Parakeet, Twinklestone, Bobby and Cheech would glance back at me every so often, half amused, half petrified, wanting to laugh, but afraid what would happen if they did.
“So, you see,” Mr. Holtcombe muttered in a frail, shaky, Scottish accent, pausing briefly to breathe. Dear god, he was one of those people. The people who breathe at completely pointless and inappropriate intervals, “in this class we will be learning about the,” Pause, “many famous vampires that walked this earth, and even went to this school.” Pause, “I am proud to say that I have met over half of them,” Pause, “oh, did I mention that I am Mr. Holtcombe?” To be polite we all nodded slowly, even though it was well over the fourth time he’d said it. “Yes, yes, well…would anyone like to guess my age?” We all exchanged awkward glances and a sort of uncomfortable air settled in the room. “How about you, dear boy?” With a pale, bony hand he pointed to a blonde kid, who had been laughing hysterically at Mr. Holtcombe since he got there, sitting at the front of the room. His smile faded and his face flushed. He looked around the room, searching for a way out.
“Er…seventy?” He mumbled. Mr. Holtcombe smiled a thin, wiry smile.
“No, but good try!” He paused, this time for dramatic effect, “Two hundred and fourty three!” A few kids gasped. Even I was shocked to hear this. “Surprised, eh? I’m not as young as I look! That’s what being a Vampire’s all about, right?” Pause, “You get to lose your mortality and glide through the centuries and bite people, am I right? It’s all about gore and lust and beauty and the unknown, no?” A few kids nodded; of course this was just to humor the man. I, on the other hand, nodded in pure fascination. That’s exactly what the man was at that moment…fascinating… “Wrong.” He stated simply, clicking his tongue, “This mentality is completely and utterly wrong. It’s what the books and the stories and society had made of Vampires. As soon as you learn to ignore these…common misconceptions, then you will be much better off.” He walked to the front of his room where he had hundreds of books stacked up in enormous piles. He searched for a minute then plucked out a large, dusty, black book from one of the smaller piles, though I had no idea how he could even see with nothing but the dim candle light to aide him. As he held it up we realized, as soon as our eyes focused, that it was what seemed to be a decrepit copy of our Vampire History book. “Now, get your books out and turn to page twenty seven. Today we are learning,” Pause, “about a man named Afanasy Evgeny Bresinovia. He is possibly the greatest Vampire of our time.” He began to pace around the room; this topic seemed to make his pride swell, his voice even got a little stronger, a little louder. “I say our time because, after seven-hundred and eighty-three years of life he is the oldest living Vampire in existence. He has started hundreds of wars” Pause, “with various Vampiric leaders, and even a few human ones. He has witnessed the rise and fall of the world’s greatest empires. He has lived” Pause, accompanied by a grand gesture of the hands and a wide smile, showing sharp stained teeth, “through every plague you can ever imagine, and he even created what is known today as Vampiric Tongue…”
Mikey’s P.O.V.
“You look rough, Mikes.” Ray commented, but I knew that was an understatement. Rough did not even begin to describe how horrible I felt. It was like someone had tied me up in a burlap sack and smacked me up against a brick wall over and over and over again. Actually, it felt far worse than that. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that even though the nightmares of the previous night had been the worst so far…they had been the worst so far. I rubbed my eyes and groaned in response to this thought. Knowing it wasn’t over was possibly the worst thing in the world, but why? Why me? As I contemplated this, Dave had come over and sat with us on the ground in front of the school. It was raining, as usual. “What, did you go to a party without us, Mikes?” Dave laughed in that…voice of his, nudging me in the rib. I really wished he’d stop calling me Mikes; more than that I wished he’d just go the fuck away. When I didn’t answer he nudged me again. I felt the anger that I didn’t even know I had the energy to have swell up inside me. “Seriously, what’s up?” His face fell, I merely looked at him and shook my head, not wanting to start an argument, or blow up in his face. I had to count on Dave’s short attention span to get me through the next few minutes, before I was off to class and out of their sight. Dave looked at Ray and sighed. “Whatever.” He stated plainly, getting up and strutting over to a gaggle of girls that giggled and blushed whenever he came around. Thank god. I turned back to Ray, who tried to give me a look of genuine worry, but then ruined it by glancing longingly at Dave’s entourage out of the corner of his eye.
“No sleep…” I mumbled, staring at Ray, who still wasn’t paying attention.
“Why not? What the hell were you doing all night?” His eyes were still fixated on the group. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes again.
“I was having nightmares…I haven’t slept in a while…last night was horrible, it was like-”
“Matt! Hey, man, what’s up?” Ray greeted Matt, blowing me off to give him a high-five and scoot over so he could sit down against the cold, wet, uninviting brick wall.
“Not much, Toro, not much. Where’s Dave?” Ray pointed to the crowd, and thus began their staring. Just like that I completely disappeared. I no longer existed. Instead of trying to get their attention, and waste my fucking time, I merely got up and walked into school, just like I wanted.
I passed hundreds of kids in the hallways. Groups of preps, groups of jocks; I passed groups of teachers, and groups of Goths. In my zombie-like state I felt a certain disconnection with the rest of the world. Like I started to think about things I’d never even given thought to before. I wondered how these kids saw me. The random kid? The jock? What? For some reason, it was killing me, I wanted to know…but maybe it was because I couldn’t figure it out myself for the life of me. This “disconnection” was something I’d always heard about, but never thought I could feel. After a few short seconds I began to hate this feeling more than anything in the world. Somehow, tired as I was, in that moment of hate and confusion I realized something, and as I pushed through the crowds of kids I suddenly knew exactly where I wanted, no, where I needed, to go. I took a few turns and avoided tripping over various shoes and objects lying in the hallways. Finally, after using every bit of strength I had left, I made it to the office. I stumbled in, tripping over my own legs, almost bashing my face on some lady’s desk.
“Hello, can I help you?” She asked. She wore a shockingly red power suit with matching lipstick, and her dirty blonde hair was pulled into a tight pony tail. Surprisingly, she was friendly as anyone could be. I nodded, feeling myself growing weaker by the minute. If I didn’t sit down soon I was sure to collapse.
“I…I need to speak to the counselor.”