Journal

by Cat Thomson

Sunset: 18:22

  Katie awoke abruptly to the distant sound of screams and ghoulish moans. She lay listening to them, bewildered, when suddenly Leopard hissed. Katie winced. In the gloom, she could make out the shape of Leopard at the edge of the bed, standing tautly, his body pressed against the wall as though he intended to escape through it.

  "Sh, Leopard!" Katie whispered in an attempt to calm her beloved cat, and she beckoned to him to come away from where he was and lie with her, but Leopard merely hissed again and remained there.

  A scream close by, down in the street below her apartment, paralysed Katie with full-blown fear and she pulled the duvet up over her head in a feeble attempt at self-protection. She lay listening for a long while, but tiredness gradually overwhelmed her and she began to doze, constantly being wrenched from her shallow sleep by the twisted cacophony outdoors. It was only just before sunrise that the grotesque sounds ceased. Katie happened to be awake when they did, and she waited nervously, expecting them to recommence. But it remained silent outside and she hesitantly moved the duvet down, away from her face. She lifted her head up from the pillow and saw that Leopard was still where she had last seen him, pressed against the wall at the edge of the bed. His eyes met hers and he mewed, then tottered over to her and lay down at her side. She stroked him and tried to reassure him with gentle words that everything was alright, and he shut his eyes and began to purr.

  Katie picked up her tablet and groaned; it was 05:16. She had barely slept and it wouldn't be long before she would have to get up and get ready for work.

  ***

  Just before Katie left to go to work, she checked in on Leopard. He was still lying on her unmade bed, purring ecstatically, giving the impression that his fears of the night had been forgotten, although his breakfast remained untouched. She shut and locked her front door behind her and made her way downstairs. She always walked to work. This morning, however, she felt apprehensive after the hideous howling and demonic laughter she had heard during the night.

  As Katie walked, she saw that the day was mild, with birdsong an auditory backcloth to the pale, blue sky. She soon reached Marchmont Street, eventually turning right into Bernard Street. When she reached the traffic light to cross the road so that she could walk through Russell Square Gardens, she realised that ashen-faced people were running away from the park, some of them screaming, others crying. Katie continued her journey towards the Gardens, her every step forced as her legs seemed to grow heavy with unwillingness. But she was too curious to stop her advance towards the Gardens, where she could see unusual shapes, although she couldn't quite make out what they were yet. It was only when she reached the entrance to the Gardens that she saw what people were running from.

  At first, she covered her face with her hands, but then a melange of curiosity and disbelief overpowered her and she looked again.

  "No, no, no," she repeated to herself, shaking her head in disbelief as she stood transfixed, the outcome of the preceding night's disturbances in front of her.

  Suddenly she realised that a man had come to stand beside her. He took her gently by the arm and began to lead her away from the gruesome sight. Katie's movements were stiff and mechanical as she was led away. She was barely aware of the direction in which the man was taking her, but soon found herself being led down stairs and into a basement cafe, where the man bought both of them coffee and pastries without asking her if that was what she wanted. He pulled out one of the sturdy chairs at a wooden table and gestured to her to sit down, before sitting down on the chair opposite hers. Her hands now began to tremble as tears streamed from her eyes.

  The man tried to reassure her. "It's alright; everything's going to be OK."

  Katie looked at him for the first time since he had ushered her away from the Gardens. His intensely blue eyes were framed by thick, unkempt blonde hair. His gaze upon her was gentle and attentive, and the fear and shock she felt began to gradually subside. She picked up her mug of coffee and drank from it.

  "My name's Tom," the man said when Katie finally finished her coffee and pastry, "and I'm really sorry I didn't ask you if you actually wanted a cup of coffee or a pastry.

  Katie laughed, feeling a temporary reprieve from the fraught emotions charging through her. "Katie," she replied.

  "It just seemed like a good thing to order when we got here. I saw how distraught you were out there and I wanted to do something to help you overcome your shock. I didn't even plan on bringing you to this cafe. It's just where I spend a lot of my time; it's got a quiet, relaxed atmosphere. I used to come here to do my uni work; free WiFi."

  Katie looked around her. "It is nice here. Sitting here, you'd never believe what we saw in the park could even ever possibly happen."

  "You're not safe living at home, Katie, wherever that may be. Come and stay with us. This is only the beginning, but now that they've been so brazen, it's obvious that they've officially declared war on us."

  Katie's jaw dropped. "What are you talking about?"

  "Vampires," said Tom.

  The image of James flickered for a second in Katie's mind. "Are you mad?" she said.

  Tom didn't reply, but instead picked up a paper serviette and wrote on it. "This is my number," he said as he pushed the serviette across the table to Katie. "Call me. It would be really good if you could join us, tonight if possible. The sooner, the better."

  Katie shook her head in disbelief and yet, when she reflected on what Tom had just said, she had heard the rumours going round about vampires, never mind the initial news reports about vampire sightings. Then of course there were last night's nightmarish screams and this morning, what she had seen in the Gardens. But the pull of James made her hesitate.

  "What about Leopard?" she said.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Leopard, my cat. I couldn't leave him on his own. He was terrified last night."

  "Bring him."

  ***

  Katie hadn't called Tom. There hadn't been a single night that she hadn't seen James since they had met and she couldn't imagine not seeing him, which would probably end up happening if she took up Tom's offer of a safe place to stay. And so she had returned home tonight.

  It was strange how easily daylight could dispel one's fears. Only one other colleague at work had actually witnessed the horrific scene in the Gardens, but images of it had gone viral. Nobody could focus on anything else all day and some of Katie's colleagues were worried about being out on their own at night. What if it were to happen again? What if it were to happen to them? But somehow the mild, bright weather and talking about it, surrounded by people, did a lot to dispel Katie's fear, and it had receded into the back of her mind, as though it had all just been a bad dream. People had checked news reports throughout the day, but the basic message given was that nobody should panic, that everything was under control, although no motive had been found for the attack. The public was urged not to make assumptions about who had carried out this atrocious attack on the citizens of London.

  Katie cooked up a simple meal for herself. Leopard was back to his usual self again and as Katie made her way to the sofa with her plate of food, he raced alongside her and leapt onto the sofa seconds before she reached it, where he stretched himself out voluptuously alongside her, shut his eyes and began to purr. As she ate, she checked the news on her tablet; she watched as the same reports she had seen during the day were repeated. No images were shown of the gruesome scene that had greeted Katie in Russell Square Gardens only that morning.

  She yawned and put her unfinished plate on the coffee table in front of her, then leant back and began to doze, having barely slept last night.

  ***

  A hollow wail sliced through the midnight quiet. Katie groaned. Not again. Soon after she had dozed off on the sofa, she had got up and gone to her bed, where she was lying reading now, waiting for James to arrive. He was late. She sat up and lifted her hand to stroke Leopard. He lashed out at her, his sharp claws scratching her forearm. Katie cried ou
t in pain, and blood began to trickle from the wound made by Leopard's claws.

  Something bumped against the window in the living room.

  "James?" Katie called out.

  Fear flowed into her. It felt as though the seconds were evolving into hours as she watched the living room window through the open bedroom door. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. Katie glanced down at her bleeding arm, then grabbed her tablet from the bedside table. She had saved Tom's number when she was still sitting in the cafe he had taken her to. She messaged him: "Was so sure I just heard something at my window. Strange, I live on the first floor!".

  ***

  Gareth's snoring grew louder and Tom threw his pillow across the narrow aisle that separated his bunk from Gareth's, softly hitting the back of his head. Gareth rolled over in his sleep and his snoring ceased.

  "You're cruel," Mark called out from the bunk above Gareth's.

  Tom laughed. "At least it had the desired effect," he said. "Just because I invited you guys as two of my closest friends to live here doesn't mean I enjoy your snoring."

  Tom was checking out the latest news on his tablet; he had been searching for images of the crucifixions in Russell Square Gardens but, bizarrely, hadn't been able to find any. He clicked on an article and began to read it:

  "Since November 2025, 3,253 people are officially on record as reported missing in London. Suspicious deaths now number in the region of three thousand. Autopsy has generally confirmed no sign of a struggle prior to death and the deceased have been found to have unusual puncture marks, usually on their necks. This morning, London awoke to thirteen murdered people bound to X-shaped crosses in Russell Square Gardens following a night filled with screaming and howling out-of-doors."

  Tom clicked on a link in the article which led him to a blog about the prolific London graffiti artist whose work was beginning to get noticed. He studied an image of the graffitied words THE ANTI-CHRIST IS AMONGST US. J., flamboyantly spray-painted on a two metre high wall at a busy intersection.

  Suddenly Katie's message announced itself on Tom's tablet. He sat up to read it, hitting his head on the ceiling above his bed. He dialled Katie's number.

  "Hello?" Katie said.

  "Where do you live?" Tom asked her abruptly, wasting no time on polite conversation.

  "It hasn't happened again," Katie replied. "I'm really sorry to have disturbed you. I hope I didn't wake you up; it's late."

  "Where do you live?" Tom repeated. "Katie, do you have a crucifix?"

  Katie hesitated before answering. "Well, I have a tiny cross on a necklace which I inherited from my grandmother, but that's about it."

  "Message me your address now, and put that necklace on immediately. We're coming to get you."

  When Tom disconnected, he realised that both Gareth and Mark were leaning out of their bunks, watching him.

  "What's up?" said Gareth, yawning.

  "We're going out on a rescue mission," said Tom.

  ***

  Katie felt foolish for having contacted Tom at such a late hour. She got up and went to the bathroom to do something about the wound on her arm. Leopard had never scratched her before. As Katie applied disinfectant to the wound, a distant scream could be heard, followed by unearthly laughter. She ran back to her bedroom and picked up her tablet, and began to type in her address with trembling hands. She keyed in the wrong house number, then the wrong postcode.

  There was a heavy thud against her window.

  Katie made a final attempt to enter her address correctly, and this time she got it right. She pressed the SEND button and rushed over to her chest of drawers. While something hit against the window over and over again, she rummaged through the mess in the drawers, searching for her grandmother's necklace.

  "Where is it?!" she cried out.

  The window latch broke at the very moment that Katie's fingers located the box which contained her grandmother's necklace. She drew it towards her, removing its lid just as the window slowly creaked open. Her unsteady fingers took hold of the necklace, miraculously connecting the clasp at the nape of her neck. She turned and saw that the intruder was casually sauntering towards her.

  The man reached her and stood before her, the contours of his face shadowed by the dimness of the bedside light. Katie felt powerless as he took her face in his hands and turned it upwards; his fingers were cold against her skin and she shivered. He leant forward and kissed her cheek. She sighed and began to edge towards him until her body was pressed tightly, submissively, against his. He sneered; his vampire charm was already having an effect on her. His hands moved to her thick hair and he began to stroke it back, away from her face and neck. He kissed her neck, his icy lips brushing teasingly against her skin. Then he stopped.

  "What have we here?" he said as he examined the two puncture marks James had made on her neck.

  Katie tilted her head backwards as she pressed her hips more firmly against him, eager for the climax of his attention. At that moment, the tiny cross spilled out from where it had lain hidden, loosely snagged on the hem around the neck of her t-shirt. The intruder pushed Katie vehemently away.

  "Take that thing off," he hissed, his eyes glowing red.

  Katie hit the wardrobe behind her as she fell backwards, before crumpling to the floor where she now sat, her back resting against a wardrobe door, her entire being so ensnared in the vampire's web of seductive paralysis that she was now incapable of anything beyond submissively, achingly, offering her body to him for his pleasure. But the subtle protective powers inherent within the cross had rendered Katie incapable of doing what he had commanded her to do, and the cross remained where it was, untouched, in spite of Katie's yearning for the vampire's touch. The intruder saw that he was wasting his time here; he returned to the window, nimbly jumped onto the window ledge, and disappeared.

  ***

  Katie sat staring numbly at the wall in front of her, her vampire-induced lust gradually abating. Outside, a car screeched to a stop in the street. Someone called out her name. There was a desperate banging, followed by heavy pounding, on the main door downstairs; then the door crashed open. Now Tom was knocking on Katie's front door.

  "Katie! Katie! Open the door. It's me, Tom."

  Katie crawled to the door and raised herself up on her knees; she took a while to unlock the door, and even longer to pull it open. Tom and three other men came flying into her flat, each holding a crucifix.

  "Where is he?" Tom asked Katie, his voice strident, while the others rushed around the flat as though they were enacting a police swoop.

  "No sign of him," Jonathan confirmed, and their tornado-like vigilance began to subside.

  Gareth went to stand at the open window, his crucifix at the ready, like a sentry on duty. Katie was still on her knees next to the front door, her eyes vacantly observing the flurry of activity before her. Jonathan walked over to her and knelt down beside her. He was about to examine her neck when something stirred within Katie - a subconscious warning - reanimating her from her temporary paralysis.

  "He didn't touch me," she whispered. "He saw the cross I was wearing and left."

  Jonathan stood up and went to stand just beyond the front door, in the communal hallway.

  "Are you ready?" Tom asked Katie.

  She nodded, and he helped her up from the floor.

  They all began to exit the flat, apart from Gareth, who remained at the window.

  "Leopard! We can't leave him," said Katie and she turned to re-enter the flat.

  Tom pulled her back. "We'll get him for you," he said. "Stay here with Jonathan."

  "Leopard," Katie called out, beckoningly.

  Leopard mewed feebly from where he had taken refuge under the bed, and Mark went into the bedroom and crouched down, before crawling under the bed to get him.

  "His cat carrier is in the kitchen, next to the washing machine," Katie called out from the hallway.

  Mark disappeared into the kitchen and returned with Leopard saf
ely shut inside his carrier.

  They left Katie's building with Gareth at the rear, walking backwards for the most part, his crucifix raised in his outstretched arm. When they reached Jonathan's car, Tom and Gareth almost dove into the back seat in their hurry to get off the street. Mark's eagerness to get into the car was hampered by Leopard's bulky carrier.

  Jonathan activated the car's engine, handing his crucifix to Katie as he did so.

  "Keep this up and visible from the window at all times," he instructed her.

  As they disappeared down the street, James stepped out from where he had been standing behind the column of a portico on the opposite side of the street to Katie's flat.

  ***

  In spite of the late hour, there were many clusters of people on the streets, and as Katie gazed at them out of the car window, she noticed there was something exquisitely unordinary about them, but what exactly, she couldn't fathom. As they drove down Park Lane, she saw a steady stream of people heading towards a gathering in Hyde Park, in spite of the park's entrance gates having been shut and locked for the night. Katie twisted round in her seat to look at the crowds in Hyde Park as Jonathan's car hurtled onwards.

  "They're vampires, Katie," Jonathan explained, breaking the silence within the car, and waking her from her trance-like reverie.

  "Make sure your crucifix is visible from outside the car, please; don't let it drop down," Tom called out from where he sat in the middle of the back seat, Leopard's cat carrier resting on his knees.

  The car soon began to meander its way through narrower streets. It seemed to Katie as though some of the people they passed focussed their gaze intently on the car's occupants, their eyes lighting up red in the glare of the car's headlights, only turning away at the sight of the crucifixes.

  Jonathan turned a little too slowly into a street and a group of people suddenly stepped off the pavement, into the middle of the road, thereby obstructing the car's onward journey. Jonathan slowed down, almost to a standstill.