Chapter One
I watch from afar, I see him now, though I could smell him long before he walked up to those steps. Funny how I can now walk in the day time as long as there is no direct sun, Alaska has been such a great place for me over the centuries, though Scotland, especially Ben Nevis, has been a close second. I now live on Saint Bridget Island in Alaska, and have off and on since a fateful day two thousand years ago. At first I thought I would never see the sun again, but I found I only burned that first day because my body was still changing, though direct sunlight will burn me, being out under the clouds are fine, but my powers are cut in half. But even so they are still over a hundred times greater than humans.
I watch him and I remember how much has changed in the last almost six thousand years. My son was killed by Argos when he was determined to rule the humans with an iron hand, not caring for humanity his eyes glowing red with evil, Marcus and I had fought against him but he created others with his views, he had killed my son. I had wanted to die but he allowed me to live, though I did try to destroy myself, I did not succeed. I cursed him. I had cursed Argos with the fact my son shall be reborn and once he was of age he would remember his life all of his past and his present and Marcus and his army would destroy Argos and his followers. Argos never comes out in the day, the very thought of the sun has him running for his coffin. For some reason him and his men still burn even if it is a glorious cloudy day, I still do not know why. Due to this reason, he never got a chance to rule the humans instead he stays out of sight trying to rule all vampires, it is as messed up as the US politics.
I am pretending to be a student teacher again; thankfully there is now a new boarding school here on Saint Bridget. The younger I am when I move back the longer I can stay, I usually stay about ten to fifteen years if I start out as a freshman which I did eight years ago. And the new transfer student that just walked up those steps smells just like my son did; even from here I could see his dark black hair, and his icy blue eyes. Then there was his friend, Christopher, who looked more like Chris Brown then a typical Alaska raised child. Marcus’s father who shared the icy blue eyes and ink black hair, I have never smelled as sweet as smell as the one from him, the father that is. I knew from his thoughts his name was Theodore, and from his thoughts he was just a teen himself when Marcus was born, but now seeing his son go to the same school he did, he was glad him and his wife had kept Marcus even though times were bad, being 17 and a new father. Thankfully it did not take much to make sure Marcus was in many as the same classes I was sitting in on as possible, and got the study hall and dining hall hours I was assigned to watch over. There was nothing I could do about the dorms, I am a female after all and the dorms are still guys and girls.
I heard the bell ring but I did not move, I waited until just a second before the tardy bell rang then appeared at my desk in the back, people avoid me, which was good, though I don’t hunt humans, their blood, still is a weakness, one I control with an iron grip, though I have slipped up a few times, but not in the last two thousand years, would not allow myself to like I did before, I would not allow my son’s death to be in vain.
The teacher walked in, and started taking role. After that he started talking about Shakespeare, I hate English class, but with a minor in English they want me to sit in, they talk about the classics, but I met Shakespeare and he was just an annoyance, his stories the same over and over, they were going to have to read Macbeth. The teacher, Mr. Theodore Simmons, was new this year and Marcus’s dad in this life. He was newly widowed and had to get away from New York City, Marcus wasn’t really happy about Alaska but it was better then being presented with the death his biological mother in this life. I just have claim to him though his soul due to the reincarnation.
Mr. Simmons stopped at my desk and looked at me, then handed me my book. He looked at me for a moment most likely because I tensed up, his blood so sweet from afar was even better up close, and for a split second all I could think of was how to get him away from the children, so I could have his blood. A million different scenarios came to mind. I was so focused on his blood I did not notice he went back up to the front and asked if any of the students had read any of Shakespeare’s plays before, Marcus and Christopher raised their hands, no surprise their English teacher dads and all, I learned that Christopher’s dad was the senior level English teacher. Mr. Simmons was surprised. I was reading his thoughts though they were not completely clear, something was blocking them but I was working my way around them. Mostly so I could choose which way to lure him to his death. When I try to get into people’s thoughts it always reminds me of the danger of other vampires, most of us have some type of special gift, we all have speed, strength and trawl, I am able to read ones past and ones thoughts, when I rest, I get visions, that is how I knew to be here at this time, and I sit here now hoping that the visions I get will help me protect Marcus in this life.
“Which of his plays have you read, Katyla?” Mr. Simmons asked. His voice, saying my name brought me out of my thoughts, the thoughts of draining him, and muted all the voices around me; it was like his voice was the only thing in the whole world that should mean anything. The sensations that his voice brought forth in me were foreign to me. The vampire in me wanted his sweet blood, but the woman, well I can’t explain it; I wanted him for myself. Forever.
“Call me Kat, and I have read all of his works” and I had, I had even seen Shakespeare himself play Juliet, I even own some manuscripts of his that had never been published, people know almost nothing of his early work. My voice sounded off, I had to focus on my words.
“What do you think of them?”
“A little to cut and dried for my liking the times he writes about were not exactly like that, take Romeo and Juliet for example, Romeo would have been killed on sight for trying to defile Juliet, Juliet would have been married off to further an ally with one of the neighboring lands.”
“And how do you know what would have happened?”
“History is my subject, I study the past and there is not a lot I don’t know about it, I was a History Biology major English Art minor.” Which was not 100% true; I had graduated about 60 years ago with a Ph. D in History from the local university, of course I lived though all the things they talk about happening in history. I also have medical degrees, English degrees, all sorts, of degrees, there is not much I don’t know, I also speak almost every language ever spoken, there is a couple ancient Native American languages I don’t know, mostly because they were wiped out before I came to the ‘New World’.
“Okay, how about Macbeth, what do you think about it?”
“Well it is historically accurate after all Macbeth would have killed his predecessor and he would have been killed as well.”
“None of you have read Shakespeare; does anyone know anything about his plays, besides Marcus and Christopher?” Nobody raised their hands. After an hour and half of this awful class the bell rang. “Katyla, would you please stay a minute.” Mr. Simmons asked after I walked by his desk. I stopped and turned around, and waited for him to speak.
“Do you want to lead class discussion once a week for the semester?”
“I can do that, what would you like it to be on? Would you like it on Shakespeare himself or the play?”
“Shakespeare; how long until you graduate?”
“I am a senior, next semester.”
“What other classes are you sitting in on? I know you only sit in on my first class of each day.”
“I sit in on, Biology, Chemistry, History, Political Science, Ceramics and English.”
“Okay, you better get to your next class” he turned around to get something but I had already left, and was in the next class by the time he turned back around. I had to leave, or I would have done something I would regret, I am just not one hundred percent what that would have been.
Kris Charles - Author 