Warm Blood

three

3 

present day 

There are no rules in college. It doesn't matter if you skip class, or if you cheat on an exam, or if your fraternity participates in hazing rituals, or if you have sex with your professor, so long as the money-hungry officials in charge are getting paid for it. It's the world's biggest pyramid scheme—the idea that a college education equates to knowledge when it can't be anymore false. I am much smarter than my peers with in-depth knowledge of every subject known to man, and that is simply due to seven hundred years of experience, not because I read about it in an over-priced textbook.

This is why I am not the least bit surprised when Professor Mackus stops me on my way out of the classroom after Wednesday's lecture, insisting we need to talk. The bags underneath his small brown eyes are even bigger up close, and it's clear to me that his morning coffee isn't doing him any favors. Still, he puts on an uneasy grin when I turn to face him. I know what he wants, but I enjoy playing the unaware role he expects from his students.

"Yes?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

"Just wanted to give you a warm welcome." His grin is anything but warm. "You've been here for a week now and you don't participate in the discussions even though you have plenty to say in your reading assignments."

"I was not aware that participation was necessary."

"It's not, but when someone possesses such radical views as yourself, I think it warrants a class discussion, don't you?"

Radical. What's radical is the fact that students are paying money they don't have just to take a class about fictional creatures. "No," I say, because it doesn't. "I wouldn't describe my views as radical. Do you honestly believe a wooden stake can kill a vampire? This immortal, all-powerful, enhanced being can die by a piece of wood?"

Mackus tries to hide a chuckle. "I don't believe it, but obviously someone did which is why we discuss the lore of these things in our lectures." I grimace which makes him continue. "So, what you're saying is that vampires can't be killed? They have no weaknesses, then?"

"What I'm saying is that it's unimaginative," I retaliate. "If you're going to make up a story, make it an actual story. Even the werewolves have a better backstory than that!"

"So..." Mackus closes the distance between us, subtlety, but I notice. It doesn't make me nervous—if anything, it should make him nervous. He's never met someone like me before, so I know I am only deepening his interest. "...what do you believe kills a vampire?"

"Vampires are human beings and can be killed by anything a human can be killed by," I state with confidence. It's a half-truth since I'm sure humans aren't withering away at the sight of garlic, but at the same time, no one can just kill a vampire. We would see it coming from a mile away.

"Interesting take. So, vampires are just like us."

Just like us, as if we are the same. I want to laugh, but I entertain his notion and remove the remaining space between us. "But better," I whisper. I am the first of his students to make the first move and it shows. Professor Mackus doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he ends up shoving them in the pockets of his tight trousers. His bulge tightens and he coughs to change the subject.

His tired eyes are on everything but me when he says, "Very well, Ms. Winters."

"Please, call me Chloe." I assure him in a dangerously low voice. I know he'll be of great use to me, but for what I am not sure of yet.