English Class on the Hellmouth

I’m bored. That’s the one thing going through my mind, sitting here in my desk. Class has just started, and I know, just know, that it will only get worse.

Ms. Radison is standing behind her desk, with a big cheery smile on her face. She’s a new teacher. I don’t like her.

“Today, we are going to start a classic in the horror genre – Dracula by Bram Stoker. Before I pass out the books, can anyone tell me what they know about vampire myths?”

Class has just become interesting. This is Sunnydale, home of the Hellmouth and Vampire Central. Anyone who has lived here has at least heard the basics.

Everyone is talking about the stuff they know, all the while giving her funny looks, saying “Lady, you do know where we are, right?”

I listen to them as they spout off the rumors and theories they have heard. Everyone agrees on the basics – vamps drink blood, only go out at night, can’t stand crosses (I see lots of people fingering their crucifixes at that). Someone brings up the garlic as a vamp-stopper.

Actually, garlic doesn’t work that well. Buffy explained it to me once – garlic is kind of like bug spray, you smell bad so they don’t want to eat you. But its got nothing compared to crosses or holy water, which is like the vampiric equivalent of Raid, being painful and all.

Now Ms. Radison has them talking about Dracula legends. I’d like to share, but I can’t. ‘Oh yeah, Dracula was in Sunnydale. He had the hots for my sister, the Slayer, just like every other vampire in this town. He did this thrall thing on her and Xander and it was really gross. Oh, and Spike says he’s a poncy bugger who owes him eleven quid.’

Nope, can’t bring that up. Sunnydale’s unwritten rules of denial and all that. But it will be fun to read this, especially seeing Spike’s reaction to me reading Dracula. He’ll probably flip about me reading “some cheap hack’s novel that buggered it up for the rest of us vamps”.

“Miss Summers, do you have anything to add?”

Crap, Ms. Radison caught me zoning. I consider mumbling some non answer about how I agree with everyone else, but she’s got this nasty smirk on her face. Not to mention, everyone else knows I’m Buffy’s sister. Meaning, I should know all about this stuff.

I perk up and smirk back at her, doing my best to imitate Spike’s screw you grin, the one that pisses Buffy off so much.

“Well, vampires can be killed by a stake through the heart, sunlight, fire, and decapitation. You can also use crosses and holy water to hurt them, but it doesn’t kill them. Vampires are created when one vampire feeds off a human and makes the human feed off him – that’s called siring. A vampire can’t enter a house unless invited; he then has an open invitation unless you cast a deinvite spell,” Ms. Radison has a fish look on now, and everyone else is nodding in respect. When it comes to the supernatural, you don’t mess with the Summers girls.

I continue.

“Vampires look just like any other human, except for the no heartbeat or body temperature thing. You can only recognize a vampire when their demonic face shows; it’s got forehead ridges and yellow eyes to go along with the fangs. Some vampires can also do a thrall –”

Ms. Radison cuts me off. Her little ploy to catch me daydreaming didn’t work. “I’m pleased to see that you read a lot of vampire fiction, Miss Summers. Now will someone help me pass out these books?"

Vampire fiction! No way, this info comes straight from the mouth of the Slayer’s sister! I have sat on way too many Scooby meetings listening to Giles lecture. Not to mention the sheer practical stuff that any Sunnydale resident picks up. OH!

While I’m sitting there fuming, Jacob Smithers (I think my sister saved him this week from a vamp gang…or maybe it was the week before) pipes up,

“Ms. Radison, how long have you lived in Sunnydale?”

She looks flabbergasted.

“I just moved here this year to take this job, why? You know, ever since I suggested teaching this book people have been asking me that!”

I can’t help it. I break out laughing. Jacob joins me, along with anyone else who knows the truth of Sunnydale.

“I don’t get it! What’s so funny?”

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