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2 | g u n s + r e v e n g e

Boom!

From the shock of the loud noise, I jolt upward from my bed and messily flop onto the wooden floor of my bedroom. My blanket stays wrapped around me and tangles around my legs.

I feel the fall in my back and a bit in my head. I do a mini face-palm and groan as I lay on the cold, hard floor and stare at my white ceiling.

“Some people wake up by the sound of their alarm clocks. Other people hear their loving parents call them down for breakfast. Me? I wake up by the sound of explosions.” I mumble to myself.

“Criss! Cross!” I yell out, calling the two twins as I stand up from the floor.

A second or two passes, and Cross strolls over to my doorway and leans on it, crossing one leg over the other. His ankle is wrapped in white bandages, giving him a type of trouble-maker look. I suppose that’s what he was hoping to achieve. His face is the same as it’s been for a long time now. The unnatural red in his hair is vibrant, and with a whole lot of hairspray he’s managed to achieve his spikey hairdo. I swear, his hair’s so sharp it can be used as a weapon. His face might be that of a total pretty boy, but I can see past the beauty and see the inner annoyingness of his soul. Did that sound deep?

When Cross and I lock eyes, the most annoyed, pissed off look on my face appears.

“Oh, you look mad.” He states with a smile on.

“What the hell was that?!” I yell, opening my arms and walking up to him.

“What?” He asks, observing his nails instead of looking me in the eyes.

“The explosion.” I take a deep breath in, trying to control my impatience.

“Oh, that?” He almost chuckles, “That was Criss doing you a favor.”

“Excuse me?” I lift an eyebrow.

“Your gun.” He states, “If you were up earlier, you could’ve got the chance to say goodbye to your baby. Don’t worry, though. I told it goodbye for you plenty of times. Hasta la vista, sayonara, auf wiedersehen, dear Pandora’s gun!”

I stay silent for a good five seconds. I’m angry, a little hurt, and pretty offended that Criss would dispose of my pistol without even asking me.

Cross sighs, “I don’t have a weapon anymore, either. Sad, huh? We used them all throughout training and on the first mission we have, we kinda sorta fail and we get them taken away.” His voice changes to a more serious tone as he slowly shakes his head.

“So Criss created a huge explosion in our backyard to get rid of our weapons? He didn’t just throw them away because…?” I wait for an answer.

“Are you forgetting that we’re slayers, Pandora?” Cross scoffs, “Our weapons are enchanted. If they fall into the wrong hands, you know what can happen.” He stands up straight, no longer leaning, and places his hands in the pockets of his black pants.

“Ugh, you’re right.” My voice is soft, “But what gives Criss the right to boss us around?! He’s not a slayer leader—he’s not Isis.” I fold my arms.

“About that...” Cross strokes his chin and shows his teeth, but doesn’t smile. “Last night when we were at the factory, Isis got called into an emergency mission.”

“What?!” My jaw drops, “What was the emergency?”

“Don’t know,” Cross shrugs, “He didn’t say. All I know is that he’s somewhere in Switzerland right now. He put Criss in charge since he kicked major vampire butt last night. Good part is that we have the house all to ourselves.” He outstretches his arm.

“Bad part is that Criss is going to make our lives hell. I’d rather get bit by a vampire and get turned than deal with him.”

“Oh come on, Pandora. Look at the bright side. New school, new people, a house to ourselves! We can throw major parties for all of our new friends. Maybe the kids—once befriended—can let us in on the rumors. It’s a well-known fact that vampires can easily pass off as normal teenagers. We can sniff them out and slay them—without Criss’s help. We’ll be badasses! We’ll be the best in slayer society! Even Isis will worship us!”

I don’t give Cross any reaction.

“You’re no fun.” He tells me. “And I don’t know why you’re just standing around talking to me. Today’s the first day of school and the bell for first period rings in about, uh,” He checks his wrist-watch, “Twenty minutes.” Flashing me a bright smile, he turns away and limps off down the hallway.

I groan and silently curse him as I shut my door and rush to get ready.

Criss, Cross and I are all seventeen years old. We’re very young to be slayers, but age doesn’t really matter when it comes to killing vampires. It’s all about the skill, and that takes time to develop. Becoming a slayer isn’t about tests, trials, or luck or anything. You can say its destiny, as cheesy as it sounds. To be admitted into slayer society, it’s pretty simple: you have to have a family member that’s been killed or turned by a vampire. So you see, every slayer kills vampires for a personal reason. We just don’t want those monsters to inflict pain on anyone else like they’ve done to us.

Criss and Cross are definitely not my brothers. We’re not related in any way, actually. They’re just my teammates—my fellow slayers. Slayer leaders train and choose their teams of slayers, which consist of three people per team, not including the leaders themselves. Criss, Cross and I are led by Isis, a total badass old guy who can kill a vampire in seconds. He’s been training us for months now, just trying to prepare us for slayer life. Since we all have one more year of high school remaining, it’s going to be a little different for us.

You see, slayers never stay in the same area for more than six months. There’s a complicated reason behind it, so let’s just sum it up and say it avoids suspicion for us slayers. Not to mention that once an area is cleared of vampires, we need to keep moving on. Keep cleaning out area by area. We do this for as long as we can, fighting a silent yet horribly deadly and gruesome war against those monsters. No government on earth knows about slayers and slayer society, and they don’t even admit the existence of vampires. Murders are always pinned on things like suicide and psychopaths that kill for no reason. No one ever suspects a vampire, a mythical creature that they believe doesn’t exist. Us slayers know better, and we try to protect people like us. Slayers don’t have any magical powers, really. We’re one-hundred-percent mortal. We just have enchanted holy weapons that make slaying a lot easier. If you think about it, the fight between slayers and vampires isn’t really even, but we’re still pretty much winning, anyways.

So, Criss, Cross and I along with Isis have to keep moving town to town, staying no longer than six months anywhere. That means that us three teens can’t ever finish a school year in the same year. We just take it semester by semester. Before we were slayers, we were just normal kids who weren’t used to moving. Now, Isis tells us that we’re going to have to get used to it.

I guess the four of us are like a family. We don’t look like each other at all, but hey, Isis can get away with the story of him adopting the three of us.

Anyways, before heading off to the first day of senior year at a high school I’ve never even seen before, I take no longer than five seconds to look at myself in the mirror.

I see a girl, tall and thin with a little bit of muscle in her arms. Her hair is a nice shade of red, not too dark but not too light either. Her jaw is sharp and her lips are plump, covered by a thin layer of red tinted lip balm. Her outfit isn’t complicated—it’s just shorts with tights under along with a t-shirt thrown on. Her combat boots are pretty kick-ass, and I really do love them.

Maybe some people would consider the girl in the mirror as pretty. Maybe some would think she’s a little too strange. Maybe some people won’t even notice her.

I stare at the girl’s baby blue eyes, and I finally see myself in them. There I am. I’m the girl in the mirror. You can tell by that look in my eyes. It’s the type of look that’s searching for something. Searching for revenge.

Before I head off to school, I say one thing aloud: “All vampires deserve to die.”

I make my way outside the house in a hurry, wondering how the first day of school will go in this town.