October 20, 5 p.m. Year of the Curtain+5
The Preserve
Zombies were relatively easy. It was the first lesson Peter learned – blunt head trauma was all it took, preferably in the form of a bullet to the skull. Cutting the head off would stop the body from roaming around, but the head itself would continue to thrash around and bite until the brain was destroyed. Werewolves were a little more difficult. Any sufficient trauma could kill them, but they healed quickly, making “sufficient” very difficult to achieve. Unless the wound was a killing blow, they would probably come back from almost any injury. Only weapons and projectiles made of silver stopped the healing process and helped ensure a kill.
Vampires were today’s lesson, though, and they were the trickiest, because not every technique worked with every vampire. To demonstrate, Mitchell had three of the bloodsuckers in chains in three different cells. Peter was given the “standard” Vampire Slayer kit, and was instructed to demonstrate ways to repel and kill them in turn.
Mitchell unlocked the first cell, the thin fluorescent lamps overhead flickering and casting a strobe effect into the small chamber. It was a woman in this first cell. In appearance she seemed to be in her early 20s, but of course there was no way to be sure with the ageless undead. She wore a thin cotton gown, and through it Peter could easily see the rather pleasing curves of her body. She had red hair and redder lips, but her narrow eyes were dark and hungry.
“Why hello there,” she said in a sweet, breathy voice. “Have you come to give me something to eat?”
Peter felt a quick compulsion to run to her and unlock the chains, but he quickly turned his gaze from her eyes, down to her just-as-pleasing but far-less-dangerous bosom. Mitch nodded. “Good, good. Never make eye contact with a vampire. Now, you want to repel her–”
“No, you want to let me go.”
“—so what do you do?”
Peter thought a moment. He had broken free of her mind control, her “glamour,” fairly easily, which was important. He reached into his kit and withdrew a small paper packet. Notching the edge, he threw it at the girl, spraying a fine mist of white powder into the air. She screamed and retreated to the corner of the cell, skin reddening, trying to avoid the cloud and the accompanying stench.
“Excellent. How did you know garlic powder would work?”
“I got out of her mind control easily. That means she’s recently turned, and weak. It takes decades for vampires to develop a resistance to garlic.”
“Correct. Let’s try the next cell.”
The two of them stepped out and Mitchell unlocked the cell, turning to the next one. Peter nodded, indicating that he was ready, and Mitchell opened the door. In this cell, the vampire lunged at them almost immediately. The chain pulled tight against his neck, stopping him only a foot away from the door, while Peter and Mitchell stood on the other side, watching him. He was a fat man with white hair, his head bald on top with long, wispy cotton candy strands on the sides. He was wearing a black suit and shoes, and the collar of the chain around his neck. He didn’t say a word, but merely snarled and snapped his teeth at them.
“Let’s say you’ve tried garlic already and this one is too old,” Mitchell said. “How do you drive him back?”
Peter reached into the kit and held out a Crucifix. This was one of those things that was hit or miss, but it often tended to work on a vampire that was older, like this one, when it turned. When he held up the image of Christ, though, the vampire had no reaction except to snarl and snap at them again.
“Why did you try a Crucifix?” Mitchell asked.
“Vampires that are older when they turn tend to be more religious.”
“That’s true for people in general as well. But why the Crucifix instead of something else?”
“I assumed he was Christian.”
“Why didn’t the Crucifix work?”
“Because he’s not a Christian.”
“Are you a Christian?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because religious icons only work if the vampire was practicing that particular faith when they turned,” Peter said. It was one of the odd, inexplicable quirks of vampirism. It didn’t matter what the slayer believed or what a vampire believed now, only if they believed when they turned.
“Right. So the Crucifix didn’t work. Which means you can’t just assume what faith they’re part of. Look for telltale signs whenever possible. What else can you try?”
Peter returned to the kit and produced a Star of David. This time, holding it up made the vampire blanch backwards, hissing. Garlic powder was better to drive them back, since it could fill the room if you threw the packet properly, but a religious artifact was effective regardless of how old the vampire was, provided they were a believer when they were human.
“Why the Star of David?”
“The back of his head,” Peter said. “I didn’t notice it at first, but the hair in that crown is matted down, like he was wearing a yarmulke.”
“Good. One to go,” Mitchell said. He pulled Peter back and closed the door, leaving the vampire on the other side screaming. “This one is going to be a bitch, I’m warning you.”
“I’m ready.”
“They all think that.” He opened the third door and Peter stepped inside.
It was a girl.
Not a twenty-something sexpot like he’d encountered in the first cell, an actual girl, no more than ten years old. At least, that’s what she looked like, that’s how old she must have been when she turned. The eyes that stared up at him from beneath her blonde curls were much older. If there’s one thing even a vampire couldn’t disguise, it was the age revealed in a person’s eyes.
“Hey, mister,” she said. There was nothing sweet in her voice, although it still dripped with honey. Peter felt a chill strike his spine.
Mitchell must have seen his reaction, because he asked, “Can you do this Peter?”
Peter stumbled, but nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Because this is the final test in this discipline. Kill the vampire.”
“Kill it?”
“Kill it.”
“Kill me?” the girl asked. Peter felt his stomach turn. He knew she was trying to sound as innocent and harmless as possible, and somehow the combination was revolting to him. He looked around the room. “There’s no window.”
“No, there’s no. So you can’t expose her to sunlight. What do you do, then?”
Peter looked into the kit one last time and pulled out the only thing in there that was certain to be fatal to any vampire – the wooden stake.
“Correct,” Mitchell said.
The stake came with a mallet, which Peter fished out and held in his right hand, the stake in his left. “Hold her down?”
“Hold me down? No, mister, no!”
“I’ll hold her down,” Mitchell said.
“No, don’t!”
Peter and Mitchell stepped up to the girl. Mitchell grabbed her by the arms and pinned her to the wall, holding her up so she was off her feet, even as she kicked and thrashed against them. Mitchell nodded. Peter put the stake in place right over the breastbone. He pulled the hammer back and drove it downwards. A few bloody moments later, she stopped trashing.
“A-minus,” Mitchell said. “Points off for the Crucifix.”
Peter nodded. “I can live with that.”
