The Rumours of Cape Melinoe

The rumour mill of Cape Melinoe was the most active it had been since it was discovered that Darcy Clarke had been stealing carrots from Matilda Potter’s garden (quite the scandal considering Darcy had won the gardening derby four years in a row). It started when Melinoe College had hired the new history professor.

Professor Angelos was a great teacher, there was no refuting that but he tended to go completely off-book. When he’d read an eye witness account of the Battle of Par to the tenth graders, for example, he’d scoffed and shut the textbook with a loud bang.

“We won’t be reading the account of a man that spent most of his time passed out on a pub floor, thank you very much.” He’d perched himself onto his desk and clapped his hands to gain the class’s attention, which was unnecessary since he’d had every eye of every student trained on him since he’d snapped the book shut. “The Battle of Par started two years before the actual fighting even began…”

The lecture that had followed had the students scratching their heads, why did the professor talk as if he knew these people personally? When they returned home that night they’d told their parents about the man, of course, most of the adults had thought these tales were the rambles of overdramatic teenagers. That changed when Principal Heathers decided to sit-in on one of the classes.

“He called Albus Carpenter - that guy that was a spy during World War II - a ‘cheap bastard that wouldn’t know the meaning of honour if it slapped him in the face’ then said that Carpenter stole the plans of the Nazis from another spy. Where in the world did he come up with that, it’s nowhere on the internet!” Principal Heathers had exclaimed to her wife who quickly spread the story.

“Maybe he’s a time traveller,” Matilda Potter suggested.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Her husband had snapped, unable to understand the fuss surrounding this professor.

“Yeah Mum, don’t be ridiculous. He’s obviously a vampire,” her daughter added teasingly.

Dear old Matilda didn’t understand the concept of sarcasm it seemed, because the next thing you knew she was shouting to anyone who would listen that the mysterious Fabian Angelos was a vampire. Of course, her claims weren’t taken all too seriously, Matilda Potter also believed in unicorns, after all, that is until Lars Robinson one of the local watchmen piped up that he had never actually seen Angelos outside of the school building during the day. His fellow watchmen quickly added that they too had never seen the man outside at all, save for Jayce Lane who saw him at the butcher’s shop at nine pm the previous night.

And soon the town was buzzing with rumours and speculations about Fabian Angelos, the man himself clueless about all the attention he was receiving. He continued to teach, bringing the history average of the school to the highest it had ever been.

“I found it!” Doctor Heathers (Principal Heather’s wife) cried out running into the local pub one day.

“What have ya found?” Lars Robinson asked her, eyeing the folder the doctor held in her right hand.

“The medical records of Fabian Angelos!” She moved to the nearest bar table and set out the papers in her files. The pubgoers surrounded the table almost tripping over one another in attempts to see the information that would tell them more of the professor.

“There is no way that lad was born in 1897! He doesn’t look a day over 25!” The oldest resident of the town, Isaac Farley exclaimed as he read over the birth certificate. “Besides, couldn’t this just be someone that happened to have the same name as the boy.”

“I thought so too,” Doctor Heathers admitted, “until I found this.” She handed him a black and white photograph. Staring back at them was a boy, around the age of 18, with a swallow sort of face and bushy hair dressed in an army uniform of the period. It was a younger version of Fabian Angelos. Isaac turned the photo over and saw a handwritten note that read ‘October 11th, 1914, Fabian Angelos.’

“A relative of the boy!” Isaac exclaimed.

“Come now Isaac, you’re grasping at straws!” Jayce Lane told him. “Nothing can be this coincidental!”

Isaac wasn’t deterred and with the old goat being such a respected figure within the community many of the pubgoers seemed to agree with him. Jayce saw this and sighed. “I will have Phoebe take a mirror to school, if Angelos does not have a reflection then will you see what is in front of you?”

“Oh, I’ll have my Tamzyn do the same!” Matilda added excitedly.

Isaac pursed his lips. “Fine,” he conceded after a moment, “if the boy does not have a reflection then I will be convinced but I must ask what will we do if he is a vampire.” 

Silence filled the pub, what would they do if he were a creature of the night?

“I propose we kill him,” a voice toward the back of the crowd piped up. “Kill the beast before it kills us!”

There was a roar of agreement. “Wait, wait!” Doctor Heathers shouted. “Are we truly thinking about murdering a man in cold blood?”

“We’ll only off him if ain’t a man, it ain’t murder if he’s a beast,” Lars reasoned.

Neither Matilda’s nor Doctor Heathers’ protests were heard over the noise the pubgoers made.

The following day Phoebe Lane took her hand mirror to school, with Tamzyn Potter recording the proceedings. As Professor Angelos told them about a group of prostitutes that had murdered a famous serial killer in 1911, Phoebe made a show of taking out the mirror to check her makeup. She pointed it toward the professor as she started packing the object away, she and those around her gasped loudly when no reflection shined back.

Professor Angelos paused at the sound of the gasp and scanned the classroom to see what would warrant such a reaction. His eyes trained on the mirror that was clutched in Phoebe’s hands and then on the phone in Tamzyn’s hand.

“Oh Phoebe,” the professor cooed his eyes flashing red, “how I wish you hadn’t done that.”