Beautiful Fighters - an original vampire story (15+) (SAMPLE ONLY)

An obsession with food

Justin's phone vibrated as the bus came to a stop at Dunrovia College, the disembarkation procedure as time-consuming as the alighting one. At least this time Robin kept his jokes to himself.

He read the message, frowning—thumb scrolling through to click on the link. It took him to a MyTV channel, whose presenter had thrown out a challenge that had now been viewed and commented on thousands of times. His first thought had been, No, it's not possible. The second, could I...?

... escape from here. Compete?

In the Portacabins reserved for vampire students at Dunrovia College, he turned the idea over. He would need special permission. The college's new chancellor had taken up the job at the start of the new term. Unlike the last one—who left under a black cloud filled with allegations of financial mismanagement—Deborah James claimed to value every student. Even the immortal ones.

"Especially the immortal ones," she'd told them as she sat on a table in the Portacabins, a high-heeled shoe dangling off one foot as she swung it back and forth.

"I've been a teacher all of my adult life," she said, "and so many times, I've watched my students leave as soon as they're old enough and thought to myself, 'Damn it, Deborah! If only I'd had another two years! I could have turned everything around for them.'

She tilted her head to the side. "Not the case here, though, is it? You and I can stay together until you are the best and most fabulous versions of yourself that you can be."

She looked so thrilled by the prospect that it was impossible not to like her.

Chancellors' diaries didn't usually allow short-notice meetings, but he landed lucky arriving at Deborah's office at the same time as she did. Deborah saw him sitting in the waiting area outside her office and waved him through, ignoring the protests of her pinch-mouthed secretary.

Deborah had changed the layout of the chancellor's room. What had once been an old-fashioned office—book-lined walls, mahogany desk and the ticking clock in the corner—was now much friendlier. A computer on a desk in the corner. Armchairs and sofas around a virtual fireplace, its flames licking the air. On her walls, digital pictures changed every minute. Camera clicks of all the classes the college offered. He caught sight of a tutor bent over applying nail varnish, watched by half a dozen students, Maya one of them.

An out-of-date picture. The college had expelled Maya before Deborah's time.

"Sit down, Justin" she said, astonishing him by remembering his name. "I've got ten minutes before an all-too thrilling budget meeting. Are you due to leave us?"

Attendance at Dunrovia College was compulsory for young vampires—'young' in the sense of newly converted to the undead state. A two-year course taught human/vampire integration and how the state licensing of vampires worked before letting vampires loose on the world.

With caveats. Stay here. Obey the curfew. Follow rules one to however many it was that were part of the state licensing programme.

He shook his head. "I've got another year to do. Can I get permission for something? I guess you could call it work experience."

At that, she piqued an eyebrow.

"There's this guy on MyTV," he said. "A professional chef who runs a food channel that everyone tunes into, Aaron Eats, and he's been—"

"Let me guess. He's cottoned on that you might be competition and thrown out a challenge?" Deborah pre-empted him. Whatever jungle drums she listened to, or rather monitored online, were up to date.

Maya had blazed a trail for popular MyTV channels featuring vampires. Most of the time, she uploaded vampire makeovers where she used make-up to humanise the undead and threw in social commentary about the difficulties of living as a vampire. Two months ago, she began filming him cooking, adding in footage of herself going into paroxysms of joy as she ate. "Like, best chicken pasty in the whole wide world! You're amazing!"