Vampire Manifesto (12 page)

It was The Blade of Osiris.

Honestly this was the first time that I consciously got a good look at the thing, for in my dreams it wasn’t something that I took the time to examine, except for the last nightmare, when I was able to take full possession of the Dreamscape around me. Even then it let off such a brilliance that it was almost blinding to look at it head on.

Here it was now though, painted in exquisite detail and I was in awe. The Blade itself wasn’t all that large, about the size of a butcher’s knife if I had to make a comparison to something I knew. It was all black, yet a clear, pristine ebony, that you could almost see through if you looked at it long enough. The tip of the Blade was etched in some type of Azure, brightly glowing hieroglyphic, something you might see on the side of a tomb in Ancient Egypt.

Yet it didn’t look ancient, not in the least, instead, its style and design seemed futuristic in appearance, almost alien in nature. It was just odd. I’m not even into to science fiction like that for me to have dreamed up a weapon such as this. Maybe I saw something similar in one of those lame space movies Aiden always has me watching with him.

It wasn’t important though, because what I really needed to do at this moment was get dressed, we were already running late. I needed to shower, random parts of my body was streaked in paint, but honestly I wasn’t up to it. I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a black tee shirt, the one with the cartoon drawing of Snow White aiming a double barrel shot gun at her Evil Stepmother, then rushed to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and putting on some deodorant.

When I came downstairs, they were already waiting, kissing on the couch and staring into each other’s eyes.

“
I’m ready.” I announced and the two of them jumped up, still hand holding in that playful way couples do when they are way too into each other.

“
Hey, Abigail told me what happened.” Aiden began. “I’m sorry lil sis, if I was there...”

“
You would have just gotten yourself shot.” I really wasn’t in the mood for this right now.

Aiden was unfazed by my smart remark. “That’s one theory.” He continued. “But I’m gonna put the word out though, it’s a small town, somebody must have seen him before...”

“
It’s not necessary Aiden.” Here we go...

“
What do you mean it’s not necessary?” He demanded. “I don’t know why we didn’t call the police last...”

“
Because everybody was drunk and high. Cops show up, it’ll just cause more drama then it’s worth.” I said.

“
Yeah, but still Madison...”

“
He’s dead anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” I was looking for the keys. I couldn’t find them.

Again.

“
What? What do you mean he’s dead?” Abigail questioned. “When did that happen?”

“
I don’t know, sometime last night I guess. I saw it on the news after you went upstairs.” Where the hell are the keys? I thought I left them on the counter last night.

“
I’ve got the keys Madison, stop looking.” Abigail grabbed my hand. “Where did they find the body? A dumpster?”

“
Yeah, well, behind a dumpster.” I responded. “How did you know?”

“
It’s Florida. Dead bodies are either found in the ocean or in dumpsters here.” She replied.

“
You’re way to morbid first thing in the morning you know that? But yeah, behind a dumpster, strangled to death.” I grabbed my school books off the lounge chair. I had a science paper due, well, today I reckon. Oh well, I could get an extension, I guess.

“
Wait, I thought you said he was shot.” Abigail seemed confused.

“
He was. Guess he tried to carjack the wrong person after me.”

“
If you say so Madison.” I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t going to let it go. “You sure you’re okay? You seemed kinda...detached.”

“
What do you want me to say? The dudes dead and I’m kinda stoked about it.” That came out a little more caviler then intended.

“
Hell yeah, you should be stoked. Mofo got what he deserved.” Aiden proclaimed.

“
Look, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Can we just drop it?” All I wanted to do was leave. Either that or stay here and paint. What I didn’t want to do was have this discussion any further.

“
Yeah, no prob lil sis, it’s time to roll anyway, we’re late enough as is.”

I knew Aiden, knew him my entire life and when I said I didn’t wanna talk about something, he recognized when to leave well enough alone, but Abigail, I could see this conversation wasn’t over by a long shot, but at least she let it drop for now and for the moment, that was good enough for me.

I hopped into the driver’s seat without further ado about nothing and turned on the stereo, blasting music, my way of insinuating that the conversation was over. Aiden hit the back seat as usual, Abigail taking shotgun. We rode in silence, well mostly silence; Abigail and Aiden were on their phones, texting each other incessantly. It was like they were joined at the hip sometimes, two halves of the same soul.

My thoughts slowly drifted towards Ethan, Mr. Blackwood if you’re nasty. I hardly knew him and yet, it was like I’d known him forever, old lovers on the reconnect, yet even as much as I desired him, thoughts of my mystery Savior lurked at the edge of my mind, his beautiful face replacing that of Ethan’s, always present, always prominent in the shadow of my memories, ever watchful.

Why wouldn’t he tell me his name? As much as he frightened me with his vanishing act, I still owed him my life. I wanted to thank him, to look him in the eyes and offer my sincere gratitude for what he risked for me that night. We both could have been killed if not for his quick actions, actions that, upon reflection, were just a little too quick, a little too graceful, to the point that it almost appeared choreographed, when Death is just a dance to perform and the tune is set to a murderer’s intent.

A thought occurred, devious in nature, yet prodigious in its simplicity. Could my Savior, my fierce little black haired boy with the Barry Allen reflexes, could he have played some role in my attacker’s demise? Could he have been the instrument upon which death played its tune?

I mean, he did shoot him in the leg like it was nothing, like he was already comfortable with that level of violence. Could it have gone even further then that? The way he watched my Attacker run off, there was just a hint of pure malice woven into his features, the way the brow furrowed just so; that adorable little scowl of his.

I smiled, my fear of him melting away. He saved my life. He didn’t ask for anything in return, hell, he didn’t even want any credit, didn’t even want me to know who he was, yet the impact of our first meeting would…

“
Hey, you getting out the car or you doing second period from here?” Aiden’s voice brought my focus to attention.

“
What?” I barely mustered. He was already outside, leaning in through the passenger side window. Abigail was behind him, just a little ways off talking to Miranda.

“
You’ve just been sitting there since we parked.”

“
Oh.” I halfheartedly responded, cutting off the engine. We were already at school, parked not far from the main campus. I must have been on autopilot. I’ve been doing that quite more frequently than normal. I grabbed my stuff and exited the vehicle.

“
You thinking about Ethan?” Aiden chided, making goo-goo eyes.

“
No, I wasn’t.” I announced, paying him mind.

Second period had just started, the campus alive and bustling with wayward students going to their next period, cutting class or doing any number of things that have absolutely nothing to do with learning. They were just static cling to me, there, but not.

“
I know who she is thinking about.” Abigail proclaimed jubilantly. “You’re thinking about Hip-Hop Anonymous.”

I cocked an eyebrow skeptically. “Hip-Hop who?”

Abigail laughed hysterically. “You know who I’m talking about. He who Refused to be Named!”

I rolled my eyes. I know who she was talking about and I
was
thinking of him. My Savior. My Black Haired Savior who had no name.

“
Wait.” Aiden interrupted. “Who are you guys talking about?”

“
It wouldn’t be anonymous if you knew who it was, Aiden.” I walked off, not waiting for a response, my English class just around the corner.

“
Hip-Hop Anonymous. Hip-Hop Anonymous.” Aiden repeated softly to himself. “So, this dude really likes rap music then?”

I ducked into class. Aiden poked his head inside then screamed out: “Is he even a he?”

“
Is there something I can help you with young man?” Questioned the woman sitting behind the English teacher’s desk.

“
Goonie Goo-Goo.” Aiden answered before running off just as the late bell rang.

I took my assigned seat towards the back of the class, the chair next to me empty. It belonged to this kid, Donnie, who I swore I saw in the hallway on my way to class, but Donnie hardly ever came anymore, to English class that is.

Everyone was starting to settle in, the noise from the students dying down as the mystery woman who sat behind Mr. Jones desk rose to her feet.

“
Hello class, my name is Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe. Mr. Jones is in for emergency surgery, so I’ll be your sub for the next couple of weeks. Now before you butcher my last name, you may refer to me as Mrs. Adahy or Adahy if you so wish, I’m not as stringent when it comes to familiarity. I will not, however, take any type of disrespect in any form or fashion, towards either myself nor students in my ward, is that understood? Now, while keeping that statement in mind, are there any questions before we begin?”

I had never seen her before, not as a sub at least. She didn’t look like any teacher I had ever seen. She was young, for a teacher that is. Twenty five, twenty six tops. She was pretty, not that pretty mind you, but too pretty to be a teacher though, at least for AP English.

Adahy was dressed in something very unteacher like, way too much red leather for Palm Coast Florida heat, but she wore it with style, I had to admit. Her jacket was extra fierce. I wanted it. She had long, straight, jet-black ebony hair which was waist length. Very shiny, very taken care of. I could tell she was Native American from the onset, though her British accent threw me off a bit.

Someone raised their hand.

“
Yes. You there. Jason Phillip, I believe. You have a question?” Adahy asked.

“
Yeah. So what’s up with uh, Mr. Jones? You said he was in the hospital right? What’s up with that?”

“
Mr. Jones is undergoing surgery for whatever type of calamity one here in America goes to surgery for.” She responded. “Anyone else?”

“
What’s your name mean?” Someone yelled out.

“
Google it.” Adahy fired back.

“
How can I Google it? I can’t even pronounce it, let alone spell it.”

“
Jacqueline Barstow, I presume?” Adahy announced. “I do believe you are up to the task. However, if correct pronunciation and definitive meaning to something as trivial as my name befuddles you my dear, then life as an inept must be invigorating.”

Whoa. Wasn’t expecting that.

Adahy turned and wrote a name on the chalk board. The name was John Rogers.

“
Has anyone ever heard of this man before?” She turned to face the class, who simply stared back. I don’t know about the rest of them, but I hadn’t heard of this John…

“
Excuse me Mrs. Shoemowetochawcawe.” Came a familiar voice from the door. I recognized it almost immediately, yet I didn’t dare hope it to be true. “My name is…”

Adahy turned her attention to the new student at the door way. “I know exactly who you are Mr. Blackwood. Principle Girard informed me of your transfer this morning. Take a seat young man. Excellent pronunciation by the way.”

“
Thank you ma’am.” Ethan made his way into the classroom. All eyes were on him as he quietly worked his way over to my direction, taking a seat next to me.