Stake That

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STAKE THAT!

Mari Mancusi

1

THURSDAY, MAY31, 8:30 A.M.

BLOGFASTSUX!!!!!!!!!

OMG I am sooo pissed right now!

As you know, I’ve been keeping this blog for like EVER in an effort to document my transformation into a vampire. I’ve shared with you my notes from my Vamp Certi-fication 101 class, told you all the juicy details about my hot vampire blood mate-to-be, Magnus. Heck, I’ve even posted excerpts from the
Biting Humans for Fun and Profit
manual.

But what does my blogging site decide to do the week everything is supposed to go down? IT decides
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to go down, TOO! The whole last week’s worth of entries … vanished into thin cyberspace air.
Grrrrrrrrr!!!!!

Okay, deep breath, Rayne. There’s nothing you can do
about it except send threatening hate e-mail
to
Blogfast.com.And then the vindictive little geeks who run the site will prob-ably delete your whole blog altogether instead of just last week’s entries. Better to just recap and deal. But still. Major
grrr,
if you ask me.

Okay. Of course you’re all dying to know: Am I a vam-pire? After all, the last blog entry of my own
Neverending Story
not eaten by The Nothing was written the night I was scheduled to be transformed. I was headed to Club Fang (the coolest Goth club in the known universe) with my twin sister, Sunny. (Yes, yes, we’re Sunshine and Rayne. Hippie parents and all that. And we’ve already heard all the jokes, so please don’t bother.) There I was to meet my blood mate, the drool-worthy vampire Magnus. He was supposed to bite me and then we’d spend eternal life together as vampires, which, FYI, is a pretty sweet gig. I mean, we’re talking riches be-yond belief, amazing powers, and best of all
NO HIGH SCHOOL.
w00t!

Problem is that’s not exactly how it all went down. In-stead of biting me, Magnus the Mentally Challenged bit my twin sister, Sunny, instead. We’re like, identical, you know, but still! You’d think he would at least have double-checked that he had the right girl before going to the point of no re-turn. After all, we’re talking Real Life Extinguishing Event here, not some
Parent Trap
movie starring Lindsay Puke Lohan.

And let me tell you, Sunny, who had no idea up until then that the whole vamp world even existed, was
so
not pleased to be informed that due to a “bloody” bad case of mistaken identity she would now spend eternity as a pasty, blood-gulping creature of the night. (Her words, not mine!) And Magnus the Moron was freaked out beyond belief that he was going to get in trouble with the boss, Lucifent, for per-forming an unauthorized bite. (After all, she wasn’t even blood tested first for diseases. Not that my innocent little twin sis would ever have diseases!) Luckily for Maggy, Lu-cifent got dusted soon after by Bertha the Vampire Slayer. So Mag not only got off scot-free, he became the new Master of the Blood Coven and high priest of the eastern vampire con-glomerate of the United States of America. Life is strange. So, long story (somewhat) short, the two of them decided to see if they could stop the transformation. Ended up having to go to England to get a drop of pure blood from the Holy Grail. It’s too long and boring to tell, but I made Sunny prom-ise to write it all down so maybe when she does I can post it here or something. Bottom line: They were able to stop the vamp process and my sweet little sis is now a member of the human race again. Of course, in the process, her and Magnus fell deeply in love and now they’re doing the interspecies dat-ing thing.

Which leaves me back at square one. No hot blood mate to spend eternity with. No riches beyond belief. Just an American

History paper that I didn’t write because I’d assumed I’d be an immortal dropout before the due date. Can we say, “Rayne’s Life Sucks Big Time?”

Bleh. I’m too depressed to write. More later.

POSTED BY RAYNE MCDONALD @ 8:30 a.m.

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THREE COMMENTS:

Ashleigh says …

OMG, Rayne! That totally sux that Blogfast ate ur entries. U should, like, totally sue or something. I was on vacation with the fam &figured I’d catch up on ur adventures when I came back and now I’ve missed everything! Booooooo!!

ButterfliQT says …

Thank god your sis got 2 turn back 2 a human! From what you’ve written about her, I think she’d make a totally sucky vamp!!!! (LOL—sucky vamp! hehe)

Rayne says …

I’m sooo with you, Butterfli. I mean, the girl didn’t appreci-ate the idea of immortal life and big bucks one bit! She was more interested in who was gonna take her to the prom. Puh-leeze.

DarkGothBoy says …

Hey. U R Hot. Screw Magnus. He sounds like a tool. I’ll be your blood mate any day. IM

me—DarkGothBoy.

Rayne says …

WhatEVER, dude. I’m looking for a REAL vampire, not some poseur who gets off on blood suckage.

FRIDAY, JUNE 1,5 p.m.

Drama with the Drama Teacher

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You are
never
going to believe what happened to me today.

So it’s Monday. And I’m walking through the hall-ways of Oakridge High, feeling pretty good about myself, right? I mean, I decided to try to have a positive attitude about the whole thing. Sure, I missed my op to become a vamp this time around and had to get back on the waiting list for the next blood mate, but it wasn’t like I’d lost my chance forever. And besides, Magnus may be hot, but he’s so not the type of guy I’d want to spend eternity with. (I want someone
waaaaaay
more dark and brooding.) So in a way, I figured, it all worked out for the best.

So, as I was saying … I’m walking through the halls, giving the finger to various meathead jocks like Mike Stevens— football quarterback and loser extraordinaire—avoiding the teachers who want to put me in detention for skipping class to go smoke over at “The Block,” flirting with the new kid wear-ing an Interpol shirt. (He’s not that cute, but evidently has good taste in music.) You know, your typical Raynie day.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, some random old guy grabs me on the arm and starts dragging me into a side corridor.

“You must come with me,” he says in an urgent voice.

I’m just about ready to go tae kwon do on his ass, but then I realize it’s Mr. Teifert, Sunny’s drama coach.

“Dude, I think you’ve gotten me mistaken for my twin,” I say, as he drags me down into the auditorium’s backstage area. “I’m Rayne. Sunny’s the one in your play, not me.” This mistaken-for-my-twin thing has so gotta stop.

The teacher pulls on the door and it slams closed with a large ominous clanking sound. Which, FYI, is a totally cool sound effect. I could use that in my next film. (For those of you just joining us, I’m going to be the next Tim Burton or David Lynch, just FYI.)

“I know who you are, Rayne,” Mr. Teifert says, scratch-ing his balding head. I raise an eyebrow. “Oh. Then maybe an explanation of why you hauled me in here might be in order, do you think?”

He nods. “Yes, yes, of course.” He takes a deep breath. “Now brace yourself. This may be a little difficult to take in…”

At first I totally think he’s going to come up with some sicko declaration of love or something. Which would have been extremely gross. I mean, sure, I dated my English teacher for two weeks last semester, but he was a twenty-two-year-old sexy Australian who liked Nietzsche. Mr. Teifert’s practically ancient—at least forty, I’d say—and so not sexy or cute or Australian. Besides, once I caught him singing show tunes, so I’ve been thinking he might bat for the other team.

“What I’m going to tell you may come as a bit of a shock,” he continues in an extremely serious tone. Jeez, enough with the drama, drama teacher guy.

“Shock. Awe. I gotcha. Spit it out.” After all, I’m late for class. Not that this would normally bother me.
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He clears his throat. “Very well then. Once a generation there is a girl born who is destined to slay the vampires.”

I stare at him. “You know about Bertha the Vampire Slayer?” I ask incredulously. “You know about vampires?” Okay, he’s right. I am shocked. And awed. And all that. I had no idea this nerdy old teacher had any clue about the Other-world. I guess that’s why he acted so weird when Sunny and I were joking around in the auditorium last week.

“Bertha, um, has had some blood pressure issues,” he stammers. “She’s temporarily retired from the slaying biz.”

“I see …” I say slowly. Too much drive-thru SuperSizing for Bertha between slays, I guess.

“No, I don’t think you do,” Mr. Teifert says. “What I’m trying to tell you, Ms. McDonald, is that you are next in line.”

“Next in line?” I swallow hard, not liking where this is going. “Next in line for what, exactly?” I mean, sure, if he’s going to say next in line for the senior class play iPod give-away, I’m his girl. But somehow I think he might be going in a much more unpleasant and less tuneful direction. Mr. Teifert’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he holds out his hand. I stare down at it, not ready to shake.

“Congratulations Rayne McDonald,” he says. “You are the chosen one. Slayer Inc.’s new official vampire slayer.”

I gape. “What the—”

Oh, crap. My mom’s calling me to dinner. More later …

POSTED BY RAYNE MCDONALD @ 5 P.M.

THREE COMMENTS:

Angelbaby3234566 says …

OMG, Rayne! How can u leave us hanging?!?! Come back and tell us the rest! How can u be a vampire slayer?????

DorkGothBoy says …

Hey—serves you right, you snotty beeyotch. Now you’ll WISH you hooked up with me. No vamp will touch you with a ten-foot pole. Sux2BU.

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Rayne says …

Don’t worry, GothBoy—I’d rather become a nun than touch your, um, pole.

FRIDAY, JUNE 1, 7 P.M.

Destiny Bites!

I ‘m back. Sorry for the interruption. Mom has been militant about the whole family eating together ever since Dad left us. (Don’t even get me started!) She would have freaked if I didn’t show up for our nightly meal of tofu burgers and baked cardboard—er, French fries. I think she gets lonely, es-pecially now that Sunny and I have a car and we’re always off doing our own thing. She needs to start dating again. I mean, she’s a total hippie—but seems downright Quaker when it comes to free love. Anyway, back to “the slayer” thing.

I stare at Mr. Teifert. “Sorry dude,” I say. “I so cannot be-come the slayer. No freaking way. I mean, I’m in the vamp inner circle here. I have vampire friends. My sister is dating the new Blood Coven Master vamp. I’m on the waiting list to become a vampire myself. How can you expect me to all of a sudden go all Terminator on them? That just doesn’t fit into the Rayne five-year plan.” There are several armchairs on stage, set up for the pro-duction of the senior class play
Bye Bye Birdie
(which Sunny is starring in, BTW). Mr. Teifert motions for me to sit in one of them, but I shake my head. I’m not interested in sitting around and chatting with this psycho.

“I’m so out of here,” I say, turning to exit stage left.

“Wait,” he calls after me. “You must listen to what I have to say.”

“Dude, I don’t have to listen to a damn thing,” I retort, but something inside me makes me stop walking. Curiosity, I guess. I mean, desirable occupation or no, it’s not every day one gets told one has a

“destiny.” Especially by the drama coach.

Mr. Teifert sighs, running a hand through his wild black hair. “Actually, you do, Rayne.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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“I’ll tell you, if you’ll sit.”

Grr.I mean, what am I, a dog or something? I reluctantly turn back and head toward center stage. I plop down in the nearest chair, which is way more uncomfortable than it looks. The springs dig into my butt and I hope this big revelation of my destiny isn’t going to take too long.

“So tell me already,” I say.

Mr. Teifert takes the seat across from me. He leans for-ward, hands on his knees. “You know me as a high school teacher. But I am also senior vice president of Slayer Inc. We’re a human-run organization that tracks the vampire community and makes sure they stay in line.”

“And if they don’t, you dust them. Very diplomatic.”

Mr. Teifert sighs. “Yes. There are times when that be-comes our only option. But we do try to use other, more civi-lized methods first.”

“Um-hm.”

“But if all else fails, if the vampire in question refuses to follow the code, then we must remove him.”

“Like you did with Lucifent?” I accuse, remembering how Bertha the Vampire Slayer recently took down the former master. “What did he ever do to you?”

Teifert shifts, as if his seat is suddenly uncomfortable. “That’s confidential,” he says. “But trust me, we had our rea-sons.”

“Okay, fine,” I say. Obviously this was going nowhere. “Not that I agree with your methods, but let’s move on. So if, like, once a generation there’s a slayer born and Bertha is that slayer in mine, how come you’re picking on me?”

Teifert snorts. “Please. This is the twenty-first century. You don’t think we’d have a backup?” He shakes his head. “Sure, in the old days they only chose one. But then when that one was killed by a vampire or something they had to wait a whole other generation before they could start policing the covens again. Completely impractical. So nowadays we select several girls at birth.”