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Vampire School
By Sinead D.

       Elaine stared miserably out the window of St. Helen’s Private School. She remembered bitterly how happy she had been when her mom had told her she was being sent to private school. There, she had thought foolishly, she would finally be able to start fresh, away from a heartbroken mother and a house that held too many reminders of a dead father. At first everything had been and looked perfect but that had all been just a cover to hide what was really going on. She remembered how they had first come, the second week she had been in school. They came silently and struck without warning, knocking you out with their breath and leaving you weak and confused in the morning with a small scar on your wrist.
A week later Elaine had guessed what they were:vampires. At first it had seemed too ridiculous to be true, because vampires just didn’t exist; they just didn’t. After finding out that most of her classmates had similar scars, and after another week of nightttime attacks, she accepted that it must be vampires, and she came up with a plan. When the vampires came tonight she and her roommates, Sarah and Meridian, would stab them through their hearts with wooden stakes.
The rest of the day passed quickly and all too soon Elaine was in bed waiting for the vampires to come. She wasn’t disappointed; they came quickly and quietly. Elaine had to restrain herself to keep from screaming. She had to wait for the perfect moment-“Now!” she yelled. She, Sarah and Meridian jumped out of bed with wooden stakes at hand. The vampires froze in surprise and then all hell broke loose. Afterwards, when Elaine tried to remember what had happened, she just remembered heat and pain and then seeing the three vampires lifeless on the floor. But they had not been alone. Elaine let loose a strangled cry as she looked down on Sarah’s pale corpse, because although they had beaten the vampires, they had paid a heft price for that victory with the life of a friend. 

Survival:
By Sinead D.

      The snow enveloped me like a blanket, a thick white blanket stretching as far as the eye could see. The air was filled with the sound of inhuman wailing which was the blizzard, but to me the world seemed strangely silent. I did not feel the cold, did not hear the wind or snow, only saw white, an eternity of white, the only real thing in the world. Nothing else mattered except the white snow. It began to whisper seductively to me caressing my cheeks lovingly. “Rest,” it said, “Rest and be safe.” As it spun its web of deception and lies I began to close my eyes. Sleep called invitingly to me. That’s when my survival training kicked in.
I opened my eyes widely realizing I had just brushed death. I knew I had to resist falling asleep if I wanted to survive. The snow seemed to realize it had just lost another victim and it shrieked and the blizzard become wilder in its intent to destroy me. I estimated the temperature to be around -40. I knew that even with my many layers of clothing it would not take much longer for me to freeze.  Already, my feet, nose and hands were numb with frostbite. I needed to find shelter. I looked around madly, but I could only see snow. My instinct to cling to life hardened, and I scanned the area around me, looking for anything that might help me to survive. At last I saw a dark shape, buried in the snow about a meter in front of me. I stood up, with my head down, and walked towards it. It seemed to take me forever to reach it, but when I did, I realized it was a backpack. I grabbed it with despair, realizing that it wasn’t the shelter I had hoped it was. I looked up and began scanning the area with an intensity that bordered madness, and there about 3 metres in front of me, was a cave. I began to run. The cold bit into my skin, freezing wherever it touched. The wind pounded into me, beating me back, and the snow fell thickly, the blizzard intent on claiming another victim. 10, 11, 12 13, 14… I counted the steps I took, 45, 46, 47, 48… almost there, 98, and 99,100. I collapsed on the floor of the cave breathless. The blizzard moaned. It had lost… for now.
I opened my eyes, and took in my surroundings. The cave was about 10 metres wide, 15 metres long and 8 feet high. I walked to the back of it. It was warmer, but almost imperceptibly so. Still, I was shielded from the snow and wind and for that I was grateful. I knew my situation was desperate, so I opened the bag and peered inside. I knew immediately it belonged to someone from the expedition I had been a part of only hours previously taken. The expedition I had taken with many others, others who shared the same goal as I had had only hours ago. Our goal had been to reach the top of this mountain, the second highest mountain in the world. This expedition had claimed the lives of all except me. I pushed that thought away, and instead concentrated on the items in the bag. I took them out one by one. There were 2 hot water bottles, a thick wool sweater, a quilt, a knife, a package of beef jerky, about 6 biscuits, some rope, a picket and a lighter. There was also a snow covered sleeping bag. I shook the snow off and stuck myself into the sleeping bag. It was more than I could have hoped for, but I realized that unless I was rescued I had a couple of months left to live at most. I then took off my thick fur coat, tugged the sweater on and put the coat back on. I was grateful for the little extra warmth it gave me. It was still freezing, so I didn’t dare take off my boots and socks to check the state of my toes, but when I wiggled them and felt the pain and I realized that they must have been blue. I put the quilt over me and turned my back on the cave entrance. I thought about the situation I was in.  I was stranded in the middle of a mountain, with only a few supplies, and no way of contacting anybody. I was in big trouble.
After a cold and restless night, I woke up frozen. I stood up and walked around the cave shivering. The blizzard had stopped during the night so it was a bit warmer. I then took out the little food I had and divided it up into the smallest portions possible. If I stuck to the rations I had made myself, I would have about 3 months to live before I starved to death or froze, which ever came first. I chewed my rationed beef jerky slowly savoring the taste, because I knew that very soon hunger would take its toll on me. I then walked to the cave entrance, scooped up some snow, and ate it. It was freezing, but at least I wouldn’t die of dehydration.
After my small breakfast, I decided I would go to see if any other backpacks or people had survived the avalanche. I dug in the snow for over an hour before I returned to my cave unsuccessful and with a sinking heart. There had been no people or towns in sight-only rolling hills of snow in every direction. I looked up into the grey sky praying to get rescued soon. I guess nobody heard my prayer.
Day after day I followed the same routine, but still no one came for me. I walked around the cave so much I knew where every nook and cranny was. Hunger began to gnaw at my belly, ever present, becoming worse and worse with each passing day, but my worst fear was that I would freeze to death. I began to do anything I could to get warm. I started to lose strength. I curled up in my sleeping bag all day not moving except to eat. But still no one came for me.
I sort of noticed when the wolf came. It was dark outside and I was lying in my sleeping bag, shivering. I had about 2 months left to live. I could not hear anything except my own breathing, and then I heard it. A low growl. I opened my eyes and the wolf was there, with pure white fur as pure as the snow. Instinctively, I clutched the knapsack and food tighter to me, I would not let them go. I took out the knife but if the wolf decided to attack I knew I would die, thankfully it did not. It came closer to me, growling a warning to stay back but curious. It sniffed me, stopped growling, and lay down beside me. I was paralyzed with shock and fear, but its breathing became low and rythmatic, and I knew it was sleeping. I was so much warmer with it here. I did not care that it was a wolf at that moment, it was just warmth. I snuggled closer to it and fell asleep, and when I woke up it was gone.
Every night after that my wolf came and nothing else mattered. She was there when I fell asleep, but gone when I woke up. I ate the food I had left mechanically and lay in my sleeping bag all day waiting. The wolf was my guardian angel, it gave me hope and warmth. It drove away the hunger and cold, my two torturers, even if just for a little while. It was the only good thing in the world. The wolf became my best friend and comfort. I was nothing without her, she gave me the will to live.
I could not move. I could not think. I could only wait for my wolf. She always came, but one night she didn’t.
That night I was mad with grief. My wolf had not come, and I figured I only had a week left to live. She was gone. The snow had swallowed her up, like everything else that was white. She was gone, she had left me. My guardian angel had fled and I was alone. I ate without thinking, and slept as much as I could. The cold began to freeze me, hunger began to starve me. I was almost dead, but still my wolf did not come.
I had one day left to live and finally she came. I was happy, for I was not alone anymore, but then she licked my face. I knew she was saying goodbye. “Thank you,” I whispered, kissing her cheek, and then she was gone again. I was not sad anymore for she had come one last time. I could hear death calling. Then there were lights and voices. I was picked up and carried onto a sled. They piled more blankets over me and I gave me water to drink and food to eat. I heard one say, “She needs a doctor.” I agreed. Another one said, “What a smart wolf, leading us to this girl!” I smiled. Someone howled. It was my wolf saying goodbye again. I cried. I knew I would never see my wolf again, but I was happy. She had given me my life again, and I would always love her. She would always be my wolf.

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