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Ninth Grade Slays by Heather Brewer

Ninth Grade Slays by Heather Brewer

Author:Heather Brewer [Brewer, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Social Issues, Young adult fiction, Vampires, Family, Horror, Orphans, Legends; Myths; Fables, Fantasy & Magic, Fiction, Horror & Ghost Stories, Other, Orphans & Foster Homes, High schools, Schools, Horror stories, School & Education, Juvenile Fiction, Adolescence
ISBN: 9780142413425
Publisher: Penguin Group USA
Published: 2009-01-27T00:00:00+00:00


13

MIND CONTROL

VLAD OPENED THE DOOR to find Vikas waiting. "Come, Vladimir. It is time to learn.”

Blinking back tears, Vlad said, "So, the funeral is over?”

Vikas nodded. "For the most part. We will continue our fast until nightfall and then feast. Only then is the funeral officially at an end. Mind you, you may not have much luck with telepathy or mind control while you hunger, but we must try. There isn’t much time before you return to the Americas.”

“Actually,” Vlad began timidly, “I find it easier to read minds when I’m hungry.”

Vikas eyed him for a moment with what looked to Vlad like disbelief. After several seconds, he took a breath and released it in a sigh. “Perhaps I will not be the only teacher this week. Are you ready to begin?”

Vlad shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “What do I do?”

“You come with me. We want no distractions.” He crossed the room to another door, and they moved outside the other end of the cabin. As they moved down the steps and began crossing the snow toward another cabin, Vikas explained, “This place that I am taking you, it is a room without windows, without light, and so well insulated that it is also without external noise. You may panic at first, but hold your will. The idea is to remove any external influences so that you may tap into your deepest telepathic powers.”

Vlad swallowed the lump in his throat, which hadn’t been there a moment before. “Will you go in with me?”

Vikas cast him a reassuring glance. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

A small cabin was ahead of them. True to Vikas’s words, it had no windows and only one door. With a deep breath for bravery, Vlad followed Vikas up the steps and inside. The light from outside drew a long line along the floor. Vlad could see two stools in the middle of the room; that was all there was. When Vikas closed the door, Vlad felt as if he might never see that light again. He took several calming breaths before looking around. It was useless—the room was pitch-black. The only sound was Vlad’s breathing and Vikas’s slow, steady heartbeat.

“Now, Mahlyenki Dyavol, I want you to focus on your heart, on the blood pumping through your veins, on the air as it enters and exits your lungs. Feel the life within you, the energies pouring out of you.”

Vlad did as he was instructed. At first, he closed his eyes, but once he realized what a ridiculous and futile action that was, he opened them wide to the dark room. His heartbeat had slowed some, not as calm as Vikas’s, but calmer than it had been. His blood rushed through his veins, and his breaths were deep and even.

Vikas’s voice was soft and coaxing. "Good. Very good. Now push gently with your mind into mine. What am I thinking at this moment?”

"You’re thinking”—Vlad choked back tears—"you’re thinking about how much I look like my dad.”

"Very good, Vladimir.



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