"It is with great pride that I announce Miskatonic High School has been chosen to host the Winter Interschool Festival," Ms. Whitmore announced.
An excited murmur immediately swept through the classroom. Someone even started crying tears of joy.
Meanwhile, Lars kept absentmindedly flipping through the history book, with the same nostalgia someone might feel while looking through an old photo album.
Once the chatter died down, Ms. Whitmore continued.
"For those who don’t know, the Winter Interschool Festival brings together the ten schools with the highest scores on the national exams. Being selected to participate is already an honor. Hosting it, however, is an opportunity that may never come again."
She was so worked up that she couldn’t even stay seated. She got up from her desk and started pacing back and forth in front of the students like a colonel inspecting his troops.
"There will be academic and athletic competitions, along with food stalls run by students who won’t be taking part in the events. In short, every single one of you will have to do something."
She adjusted her glasses and picked up the event flyer.
"Since there are only two weeks left, it’s time to decide who’s doing what. Raise your hand if you’re on a sports team."
More than half the class raised their hands.
"Chess club."
Three more hands went up.
"Math competition. An A in the subject is required to be eligible — and obligated — to participate."
Two more.
"Finally, the same rule applies to the spelling bee. An A in English Language is required."
Four hands rose.
It was starting to look like a game of ’Guess Who?’
By the time Ms. Whitmore was done, Lars and Niall were the only two students in the entire class who still had their hands down.
Niall flashed him an enthusiastic grin.
Lars answered with a brief, annoyed glance, shook his head, and went back to flipping through the history book.
He wrinkled his nose when he came across an image of a mosaic depicting Alexander the Great.
That idiot must’ve really gone out of his way to make me look this bad.
Then he turned the page.
"Mr. von Rosen, Mr. Al O’Tep, since you won’t be taking part in any of the competitions, starting next week you’ll stay after school to help with the stalls."
Ms. Whitmore sighed.
"I expect both of you to give it your best... though frankly, I’m not getting my hopes up. At the very least, try not to get in the way."
Ms. Whitmore sat back down at her desk and pulled a copy of the national newspaper from a few days earlier out of her bag.
"I assume you’re all aware of the tragedy that struck Vrenford last week. I won’t go into the details of the case. Instead, I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about the novel that inspired the nickname given to the killer: Dracula."
Lars looked up from the history book.
"I suppose Count Dracula needs no introduction. Everyone knows who the legendary vampire of Transylvania is—"
A brief, stifled laugh escaped Lars.
Ms. Whitmore stopped and shot him a disapproving look, then continued as if nothing had happened.
"As I was saying, I certainly don’t need to explain who Dracula is. You’ve seen him portrayed in just about every way imaginable. But how many of you are familiar with the literary version of the character?"
A girl raised her hand.
"I’ve read it, Ms. Whitmore."
"Go ahead, Miss Brown. Tell the class what you think of the Dracula portrayed in the novel."
The girl stood up.
"I don’t think Dracula is really as evil as he seems. He was once just a man in love who lost the woman he loved more than anything. He suffered so much that he even turned his back on God for her. I think Dracula proves that when love is strong and sincere, it can survive even the passage of centuries."
Once again, a stifled laugh escaped Lars. This time, though, he had a much harder time hiding it.
"Mr. von Rosen, would you care to share with the class what you find so amusing? Maybe the rest of us could use a laugh too."
"Just a cough."
The teacher’s stern gaze shifted from Lars to the girl.
"Miss Brown... you haven’t even read the back cover of the novel, have you?"
The girl sat back down without saying a word, her face as red as a tomato in a wig.
"What Miss Brown is talking about is the Dracula from the 1992 film, where he’s portrayed as a tormented creature capable even of love. Nothing could be further from the character in the novel."
Ms. Whitmore cleared her throat and adopted the grave, solemn tone she always used whenever she wanted to command the class’s attention.
"Bram Stoker’s Dracula is, first and foremost, a monster. A creature endowed with dark powers that he uses without the slightest remorse to crush anyone who stands in his way. Among his most famous abilities are transforming into mist, a bat, and other animals, controlling the weather, and rejuvenating himself by drinking blood. Not to mention, of course, his superhuman strength and speed."
She paused briefly. With quiet satisfaction, she noticed that the entire class was now listening closely.
"If we were to interpret him through a modern lens, we could say that Dracula is very much like a manga antagonist."
That comparison was enough to win over even the last few distracted students.
Ms. Whitmore had a gift for making even the driest books interesting by bringing up movies, comic books, video games, and whatever else happened to be popular with teenagers.
That was also why many at Miskatonic considered her the best literature teacher in the school.
By now, the entire class was hanging on her every word. They were all eager to finally start reading that much-hyped novel.
Lars included.
Ms. Whitmore had described Dracula’s powers and behavior with such accuracy that even Lars was rather curious to find out what else this Bram Stoker fellow had written about him.