Heather Brewer - Eighth Grade Bites (Chronicles of Vladimir Tod, Book 1)

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Table of Contents

SECRETS AND SANCTUARY

D RESSED AS I AM, what do I look like to you? Mr. Otis looked about the classroom. Several students fiddled with objects on their desks in response. Some met his gaze with glazed eyes of indifference. Come on, first thing that pops into your head.

A small voice broke the silence. A homeless guy?

Stephanie Brawn shot her hand up. Her tone was matter-of-fact. A mortician.

A zombie? Carl squeaked. Carl was one of the quieter students. Lanky, shy. It always surprised Vlad to hear his voice.

Mr. Otis pointed a long finger at Carl. His eyes twinkled. Yes. As you seemed to enjoy my unicorn costume last week and my troll costume the week before, I thought Id choose something a bit less obvious this time. I wore this as inspiration for the project well be undertaking this week.

Mr. Otis turned to his bag, where he retrieved a hefty stack of papers and began passing them to each student. Once the papers were handed out, he returned to his perch on the corner of the desk, a proud smile on his face. He searched their eyes, obviously expecting wonderment and curiosity, but his smile slipped when he found only disappointment. Even Vlad, whod come to enjoy having Mr. Otis as a teacher over the past few weeks and found the study of such things fascinating, slumped down in his seat. New projects always started out sounding cool, but before you knew it, the teacher had glitter and construction paper strewn about the room and you were getting fitted for some stupid costume. Vlad decided that teachers ideas were a lot like bunches of garlicintriguing from afar, but up close sadly sickening and, if you werent careful, deadly. Still, he felt sorry for Mr. Otis, who, like so many substitutes, was trying to make an impression.

Vlad raised his hand and asked, Will this be an oral report or written?

Im glad you asked. Mr. Otis glanced down at the papers on his desk and back at the class. Since I first began teaching you, weve been learning the folklore and history of a different mythological creature every week. This week we will embark on the study of supernatural beings, and at the end of our studies, you will each be turning in a thousand-word essay on one of those supernatural creatures, as well as giving an oral presentation near the end of February.

Mr. Otis turned to the blackboard with a spring in his step and scribbled down a list of slightly crooked words. He turned back to the class and nodded at the intrigued looks he saw on their faces. Reaching into his bag, he retrieved a handful of small, folded papers. Mr. Otis stuffed them into his hat and said, These will be no ordinary reports. I want you to write them as if you were the creature you draw from my hat. Tell me how you feel, what your strengths are, your weaknesses, any special abilities you may have. Tap into what makes you a witch, a werewolf, a vampire, and so on. Show me the true nature of yourself.

Vlad sank farther into his seat. Hiding his true nature was a daily chore and certainly not something he wanted to expose in front of the class. People would panic. Meredith would cringe. And he could only imagine how closely Principal Snelgrove would watch him after learning his secret. As Mr. Otis began his slow trip around the room, stopping at each desk and holding out the hat, Vlad crossed his fingers under the desk and hoped that the mathematical odds would be with him and hed draw zombie or warlock anything but his true nature.

In front of him, Chelsea Whitaker was pouting over her pick. She lifted her furrowed brow to Mr. Otis, who merely smiled and held the hat out to Vlad. Vlad reached in and pulled out a slip of paper.

Vlad cupped it in his hand, willing it to read anything but vampire . He took a deep breath, held it until his lungs burned, and opened his hand.

The paper was blank. Vlad blinked, and when he looked up at Mr. Otis, he noticed that his teacher was watching the slip of paper with decided interest. Feeling more than a little curious and only slightly stupid, Vlad flipped the paper over and read his assigned creature.

Werewolf.

A sigh escaped Vlad before he realized it was he whod made it. At the moment, he couldnt think of a more pleasant word to read, and so he read it once again. Werewolf.

He could do werewolf. Howling at the moon, fear of all things silver, inexplicable urge to sniff the butts of people he met on the street. Oh yeah, piece of cake.

Mr. Otiss hand clenched into a tight fist. Then, just as Vlads muscles relaxed, the letters scrawled on the small rectangle of paper blurred. At first Vlad thought his eyes were simply losing focus, so he squeezed them closed, but when he opened them again, the letters were rearranging themselves, moving about the piece of paper like tiny figure skaters. Some of the lines blended with others, forming new letters.

Vlads jaw dropped, and as if on command, the letters stopped moving. Vlad read the new word theyd formed aloud. Vampire?

He couldnt do vampire! Fear of the sun, craving for blood, inability to enjoy Italian food, everything that he really was? This was going to suck.

Mr. Otis relaxed his fist and leaned in toward Vlad. His smile, kind and warm at the front of the class, seemed sly and twisted up close. A wise choice, Vladimir. Ill be looking forward to reading your perception of vampires.

As if they shared a secret, Mr. Otis tapped his forefinger against his temple and pointed to Vlad, who looked quickly back at the paper hed chosen and read the word once again: vampire. There it was, in plain English. Could he have misread it? No way. It just wasnt possible. Werewolf and vampire werent similar at all. He could understand the mistake if the paper had said something like vumpine , but werewolf looked nothing like vampire.

And what about the moving letters? Had he imagined it? Aunt Nelly would say hed been under a lot of stress lately, that it had been a trick of the mind, that handwriting couldnt move around on its own. Shed probably be right, but the entire event, imagined or real, still freaked Vlad out.

Now, back to zombies, Mr. Otis began as he returned to the front of the class. Any guesses on what their diet consists of?

Morning passed quickly into afternoon and Vlad entered the lunchroom, finding Henry sitting at the table near the window, waving him over. Henry shoved an entire Hostess cupcake into his mouth and grinned. The white filling squished out between Henrys teeth, eliciting a chuckle from Vlad.

Vlad sat across from Henry and slid the sandwich out from his brown paper sack. He bit into the bread and one of the capsules of blood burst open, spraying the roof of his mouth with crimson sweetness. He swallowed the liquid and finished his meal. After tossing the empty bag and stained, soggy plastic wrap into the garbage, he let out a loud burp. Excuse me.

Henry laughed and offered him a cupcake, which Vlad immediately stuffed into his mouth. Sure, human food didnt help him out nutritionally, but some of it just tasted good.

Henry asked, So when are you asking Meredith to the Snow Ball? Its coming up soon, you know.

Principal Snelgrove passed behind Henry and slowed his steps, peering over Henrys shoulder at Vlad.

Vlad shrugged. Im not sure Im going to.

Henry said, Why not? Youve only been crushing on her since the third grade. And a girl like Meredith you have to ask well in advance.

Behind Henry, Vlad could see Meredith talking with her girlfriends. When she looked over at Henry, her blush deepened. Vlad shrugged again. Better to be crushing on her than have my heart crushed by her. Besides, I think she likes someone else.

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