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You may be wondering why my best friend is a vampire; well the story's answer is our parents. Our parents were old friends from the time they were born, and I guess the friendliness was passed down to us. We were literally crib-buddies by the time we could open our eyes. However, it didn't make everything okay with everyone else. Wolf lover, Vamp lover, Mixers, and other names people call us. Mostly vamps shun her; wolves actually welcomed her, like an extended family member. And they actually like Sam, and they don't just put up with her because she's my friend. Of course it was hard for them to adjust, but eventually, and slowly, they accepted her into the pack.

Half dragging, half carrying me Sam escorted me down the hall away from the classrooms, toward the doors. At first I was confused, and then I suddenly got it.

"Sam, you don't have to leave school because of me," I half stated/groaned. Pain still shoots through me, yet Sam somehow managed to ease it slightly.

She grinned, "Come on Richard, you know they don't need me or vice visa . . ."

It's true, the school doesn't need Sam, and she doesn't need them. She is the smartest vampire that has ever walked through this school, and they know it. Not to mention if she wanted to she could just walk out of here and not come back, simply because, technically, she has already finished school. She should be in college (even though she does take college classes on line with two years under her belt), but she keeps insisting she's only here because she needs to keep my ass out of trouble. I guess this just proved it.

"Someone needs to keep your butt out of trouble," She laughed, like reading my mind. Pushing through the double doors to the outside, she balanced me in one hand, and effortlessly pried the door open, and continued down the path. We made small talk, laughing, snorting, and even choking (playing around), I smiled, and she smiled.

The school was surrounded by a thick canopy of forest, concealing us from the human population, and from the others. It's no surprise that this school is high up on the mountain side of the Appalachians. Very few humans travel up the sides of the mountain range, but the few that know about the school, only know that it is for 'incredibly gifted people', and that it's virtually impossible for regular people to enter, or get near it. Great cover, I purpose, if only it was for incredibly gifted, then you mean monsters of the night. Better than nothing. . . I think.

Surrounding the school is a ten foot high brick and iron fence, much like a prison. Posted every 50 feet or so on the enclosure are guards (like the one who stunned me), watching out for any threat, nuisance, or danger. The guards—wolves and vamps alike—are specially trained for this stuff with extensive training for anything, though I guess a security guard and camera is all you need, but apparently there are still a threat out in the world. Getting near the gate was easy, yet not getting through. Sneaking past a couple of vamp guards, and getting assistance from some wolf ones (We have connections) with an off campus pass for the rest of the year, again we were free from the clutches of the school. Natural litter covered the ground making our footsteps silent to the enhanced hearing of the guards. By the time we were a good distance away from the place Sam let go of me and guided me down to a fallen tree. Sore, my rigged body stiffened and met the bark with satisfaction. Sam sat down next to me, but not without brushing off some moss.

We sat for a moment in total silence just enjoying each other's company. Feeling the sunlight on the back of my head, I inwardly moan in satisfaction. Trust me if you were in that school for 8 hours a day you would want some peace and a chance to run free. Closing my eyes, I lean back on my arms playing a smirk across my face.

"So," began Sam. "Mikael huh?" I sensed a bit of mirth in her voice, as though she was teasing me. Turning to her, I took in the sight called my best friend. Her light brown almost blonde hair was up in a messy pony tail framing her face in a cute but sloppy way. Her Pakistan green eyes that studied me were a dark color almost black when she is pissed. Her pale complexion was due to the vampyric gene, though she does have a slighter tan than most vampires due to the running around as we did when we were younger. She's wearing her usual get up— a grey hoodie with a dark colored t-shirt and dark skinny jeans combined with converse. The modesty of her wardrobe has always been; she is not a girl to flash you. Sam also has an athletic body due to gym and her activities after school, better than most lanky model slim vampire girls at our school.

I laugh as I agree with her, "Yep that dude." Half sitting, half lying on the fallen tree, my muscles still burn from the beating and the electric shock. "Where were you when I was being beaten?"

"Doing an errand for Mr. Poloski on the other side of the school, however if I was there, he'd be sorry," she answered, with a bit of venom in her voice. I agreed with her on that comment. Though Sam may not look it, she can kick ass due to the training every monster has to go through for protection. Even though the only recommendations you need for going to high school is two years in self-defense in middle school, few vampires extend the classes throughout high school. Even fewer vampire girls. Werewolves, however, are a different story. Because we can't transform at any time in public (we don't need humans to know about us), us wolves have to at least know an extended self-defense for graduation.

We don't need another werewolf in London, now do we?

What we're defending against is another story . . .

"I only got their when the guard shocked the hell out of you," she continued. "And p.s. nice shocked face." She intimated my apparent shocked face. It was ludicrous.

Pouting I retorted, "Oh shut up, it didn't happen that way. I was more like this." I acted out what I think I looked like when I was being shocked with 1,000 volts of electricity. It did no justice. Sam still laughed.

She gasped, "Yea that's much better."

"And I also saw you . . . you know." She trailed off for me to pick it back up.

"Yes, yes I know I almost transformed, but it wasn't my fault, Mikael made me do it." I reassured her, yet to no avail.

Leaned forward on her elbows and teased, "It's okay sweetie, just don't let him do it again." Sam made her voice high pitched so it sounded like a concerned mother. She pitched my cheek to add effect. I swatted it away. I missed.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, something swamped into my nose, an awful potent odor. I immediately knew what it was.

Blood. And lots of it.

Covering my nose, hoping to shield the odor and resist the urge to salivate, I turned to Sam who, too, covered her nose. With her eyes closed, Sam exhaled in a raspy breath, telling me that she is also struggling to contain herself. Standing up, she ushered me to get up too; she still had her eyes closed. I complied, standing up even though the pains still shoot through me like a million infernos. Sam led the way back to me; however in the direction I didn't want to go. She steered to the blood bath.

The things Sam can't stand in this unfair world is specists, tomatoes, and unsolved mysteries. If something isn't solved, Sam will be determined to answer it herself, regardless of the consequences. And when Sam's mind is set on something, then everyone around is set to it too. Which in this case: me.

Following the determined vampire, the stench gradually got stronger and stronger. And as it got more potent, my inter wolf became stronger too. Pushing the beast down, I glanced back up to Sam. She suddenly swatted a branch away, making it break into a million pieces. I guess she is also controlling her inner monster. Stepping over the shattered tree limb, I heard Sam mutter, "Sorry."

I felt sorry for her to be honest. Vampires are susceptible for more frequent monster transformation because of the access to blood. Even though they don't physically change like wolves, vampires mentally change. Vampire instincts take over the subconscious, suppressing the human ones. Vampires can take blood in small doses, like if it is a nose bleed or a gash, yet if it is abundant like this situation it becomes harder to control the animal side. . .

Coming closer to the source, I feel my eyes slowly change once more into lycan ones. Closing them once more I inwardly suppress my animal instincts.

And then we hit it. Where the blood odor is the strongest, we came up on the source. I then ran into Sam staring at the sight, looking down at the eye full, my stomach twisted like a spring.

There laying before us was mutilated deer carcass. The dead deer's chest and stomach was slashed open, spilling out the endless supply of innards and blood. Its antlers were torn from its head leaving gaping holes where they should be. The head was three feet away from the body still spilling out blood from the action causing the mutilation. Flies surrounded the carcass, nibbling away at the dead flesh—

Just then I puked up my breakfast. Sam on the other hand looked like she could stare at the sight all day.

There are some things I can't stand in this unfair world: Specists, jerks, and blood and guts. And the latter made my breakfast come back up. While vomiting up my spline, Sam inched closer to the body kneeling down to examine it. This made me vomit more. One of Sam's many talents is to shove emotions down so they won't get in the way, and these are one of the talents that I envy—of course seeing what I'm doing now.

Next, Sam spoke her examination, "There are defendant claw and teeth marks on the bones. . ." She kneelt closer, gripping the head and turning it. "The head was ripped off, claw marks on both sides suggesting humanoid . . ." Moving back toward the body, she started poking around the ribs and stomach, making more bile come up. "Bite marks in major organs and veins . . . suggesting . . ."

I tuned her out, trying to stifle my stomach from rejecting my food, I didn't want Sam filming this when she's done. Trust me she has done that before when we found a dead cat when we were 10. She still blackmails me with it. Wiping my mouth, I turned around trying not to look at the traumatizing sight, instead I tuned back into Sam's detective dialogue.

"Richard, are you listening to me?" She seemingly asked. I can practically hear her turning around and putting her hands on her hips.

"No," I answered truthfully. "What did you say?"

"I said . . . this is definitely vampyric. However, the savagery suggests . . ." she again trails off, knowing I will pick up the pieces.

"Rebeli . . ." I finished. No . . .

My friend steps closer, "Richard, are you okay? I know it has only been 4 years but still—"

"No, no I'm fine." I cringe, remembering the pain he had caused.

Rebeli are rouge vampire and werewolves who kill humans (and even follow vamps and wolves) for the high of the kill. They are banished for our society, forced to live on the streets and kill humans whenever they want to. They are the ones who give us the bad rap of being monsters; they are the ones who kill. Since they kill the victim and suck the life out of the poor humans, their physical appearances change because of some chemical released in the brain or something like that (I don't listen to biology). Rebeli eyes become red, stained by the blood they devoured. Their skin loses all the pigment, making the vamp Rebeli turn to ash in sunlight and wolf Rebeli to burn more easily in sunlight. Rebeli also become stronger, faster, more enhanced than normal vamps and wolves, the reason why there are guards posted outside the school.

And now I see why the guards are there. Rebeli attack less than a mile outside of school is not good.

Turning around, I face Sam with her head held low avoiding my gaze. "I think we—"

"—should go," She finished my sentence, stepping beside me she moved past keeping her head low. Passing me, she didn't get far because I grabbed her arm and swung her around.

"Shit . . ." I mumbled staring into her eyes. Her normal dark green eyes were now black. The 'hunger stare' is when a vampire sees, smell, or taste blood of a large magnitude. It was almost like the black glazed eyes we wolves have when we are about to form but this is when vampires are hunger or just wants a taste of blood. This is not good. . .

"When was the last time you feed?" I asked, frustrated. Sam struggled against my grip, though if she wanted to she could break it, but knowing her, she won't harm me. I tighten my grip in her arm, making her calm down just enough so she can look in my pale blue eyes.

"Um . . . this morning . . . I think." She didn't sound petty like most would suspect, in fact she sound confident. This irritated me even more.

"What do you mean you think?" I sounded harsh to my own ears, making Sam stop struggling completely. Letting go, hoping she wouldn't resist even more, I stepped back letting her analyze the situation. Somehow she has been doing that a lot recently.

Sighing I added, "Come on we need to get back . . ." I moved back toward the school bending under some branches despite my body's protest. Treading away, I heard Sam call out:

"I thought that's what I was doing!"

I called back, "Now it's urgent. You. Need. Blood." I let my words sink in, I then heard she sigh and jog up to me.

. . .

We made our way back to the front gate, receiving scrutinizing looks from the vamp guards, and getting confused looks from the wolf ones. Handing in our new off campus passes, the vamp examiner mumbled something under his breath.

"Pitiful mixers."

Sam glared, while I let it slide off my back. When you get teased and bullied everyday like I do you will soon ignore it and move on.

Entering the school the way we exited, I escorted Sam to the nearest Blood Bank at the end of the hall regarding Sam's protests. Blood Banks are for vamps who need blood so and I quote "won't go ravenous on the fellow student body", the principle says. It's fairly new, but so far it has been a hit with vamps, not so much with the wolves; I mean, where's the Meat Locker?

"She'll take a Dr. Pepper with 5 table spoons of blood," I order, receiving a strange look from the vamp server. Behind her were bags of blood hanging from the wall, very tempting to any vamp that walks by. The Blood Bank is just a cart next to a wall, with a woman server dressed in a waitress outfit. It kinda reminds me of a one of those street carts with hotdogs or hamburgers, only with bags of blood. The blond waitress obeyed the order grabbing a Dr. Pepper pouring it into a cup and measuring out 5 table spoons of blood and stirring it in.

Now that's taking care of lets go the other problem. Where the hell is my backpack?

Thanking the server, Sam grabbed the cup and took a sip. She moaned happily.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you. I needed that." She smiled a fangy smile with blood mixed with Dr. Pepper on her lips.

"So," I started. "Why did you skip breakfast?" I said looking for my back pack down the hall.

She answered after a sip, "I was . . . busy with stuff."

Knowing Sam for my entire life, I picked up on her habits. Like when she's thinking she puts her hands in her pocket, or when she's pissed she gets unnaturally quiet. And from her abrupt end to the proceeding conversation, I knew not to press for details. But that doesn't mean I won't find out sooner or later.

Going to another topic I say, "Do you see my backpack anywhere? I need my biology homework or Mr. Poloski will have my head."

She thought for a moment and then stated, "Have you cheeked under your locker?"

Mentally slapping myself, Sam and I turned around the other way and walk toward my locker. And sure enough there it was, lying on the ground below my locker, all lonesome. Picking it up, I checked for any missing binders, or other stuff people may have took. Luckily it was all there. Redialing my locker combo, Sam enounced:

"What do you think we should do about the deer body? Tell the guards?" She took another sip of her mixed drink.

Placing my English text book with my Biology, I answered "Nah, the guards will soon discover it and take care of it." I glanced at Sam, who looked doubtful however relieved by my answer.

Flipping the bag on my shoulder, I ruffled my hair in the locker mirror trying to fix it. My onyx hair fell into my eyes and passing my ears in a messy but stylish way. My sapphire pale blue eyes already looked tired from this morning beat down surrounded by deep bags. Lifting up my purple and brown striped skater shirt, revealing my toned core, I counted that number bruises on my ribs. One, two, four, six . . . damn too many to count. Finally looking down at my torn dark pants and black converse, I knew for certain I wasn't going to receive 'The Most Fashionably Dressed' this year, but who cares?

Closing my locker, I spun to cock-eyed Sam with a mirthful grin playing across her face.

"What?"

Shaking her head and laughing under her breath, she sighed, "I have never met a guy who looks at himself in the mirror like you do . . ."

"Is that I problem? Because I could do it again . . ." I went back to my locker, faking spinning the dial. Sam extended her hands out shaking them.

"Oh no, don't put me through the torture of you doing that again. You like to have killed me!" She voice was completely fake, making me laugh.

We walked to AP Biology together making small talk as we neared the lab. We stopped by her locker so she could get her messenger bag, and then head to our destination.

As we enter the lab, heads swung our way with amused and disgusted faces. The latter came more prominent with the class being mostly vamps. Looking at the class you could definitely see the two races separate from one another. Vamps cramped the right side of the room while wolves were spaced out on the left side. Taking the glares with no interest at heart, Sam and I made our way to our assigned table and sat down.

"So, late to class again, I see," Announced our teacher Mr. Poloski.

"Sorry, sir," Sam countered. "I had to take Richard to the nurse . . . he was feeling sick." Funny how she could come up with an excuse so fast on such short notice. . .

"Did this nurse by any chance give you a note?" We're dead.

"Yes sir, it's right here," she held up the note as she spoke, which surprised me and Mr. Poloski. Like I said before Sam has many talents—including forging a nurse pass perfectly.

Trailing over to accept the pass, I took in Mr. Poloski. He was a young wolf man, maybe in his mid-twenties, well fit, and well carried. His wavy shady blonde hair was loose falling just past his chin, with golden brown eyes to match. He's very laid back even for a teacher, who was surrounded by vamps day in and day out. I liked him because of that. Somehow Mr. Poloski seems to say "yea, I'm here teaching you deal with it". He's handsome, I guess because some wolf girls flaunt over him at the lunch table behind us. I can see why (from a guy's point of view), he had a defined jaw line and perfect teeth to make up for his crooked nose planted on his face. I can see why teenage wolf girl swoon all over him. Even with all that, the only thing I really notice was that he had no wedding ring. Hadn't he imprinted yet? Or is he just one of the rare late bloomers? Taking the note from Sam's hand, he crossed back to desk and placed it there not really reading it.

Clearing he throat he continued his interrupted lecture.

"As I was saying, the only difference in Human DNA and Lycan and Vampire is only point 4 for Lycan and point 2 for Vampires. Funny, how such close DNA could also be so different . . ."

Tuning out, I wrote some important stuff down Mr. Poloski repeated, trying to look like I was really listening. However, when my hand scribbled down notes, my mind raced with what we encountered just 30 minutes ago in the forest.

Rebeli close to the school. Dead animal. Blood. The mutilation of such a harmless creature. How could anyone do that to a defenseless creature?

My answer was simple: because Rebeli are the real monsters.

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Yep another chapter, another day at Bite High, and another dead body in the woods. Trist me Richard is going to imprint soon, don't worry.