by Amy Cross
“I'm a vampire,” she continues. “I might look like a mortal girl, especially when I'm weak, but I promise you...” She winces, as if some inner pain is rippling through her body. “I'm dying,” she continues. “Maybe I can save myself, maybe I can't, but my instincts will kick in and I won't hold back. Please, Ben, don't make the mistake of trying to help me, because I promise I'll turn on you. I'm not some lost girl who wandered onto a coach in the middle of the night. I'm a monster.”
“No, you -”
“I'm a monster!” she hisses, and once again her eyes briefly fill with a yellowish tint. “I will kill you, don't you understand? That's not a threat, it's a promise! Humans and vampires just don't mix. I can already feel my instincts bubbling up, and I'll end up using you for your blood. No creature in all of existence can resist its instincts, not for long. That's as true of humans as it's true of vampires. We are what we are, every one of us. And soon, my instinct will be to kill you and drink every last drop of your blood.”
Staring at her, I wait for her to tell me she's joking, but she seems deadly serious. I can't help thinking back to the confused, wounded girl I met on the coach just outside Hamburg, and it's clear that over the past couple of days she's begun to get her strength back. Even in the last few minutes, she seems to have become a little stronger, as if her body is recovering from the beating she suffered at Marston's hands. But as I stare at her, in the heart of this vast forest, I can't help noticing that while the world all around us seems natural and calm, Madeleine herself looks...
Unnatural.
“Are you real?” I ask finally. It's a dumb question, but I still feel as if I might be imagining this entire experience. As if I might wake up at any moment.
She watches me with cautious, wounded eyes.
“Are you?” I ask again.
“Does it matter?” she replies, her voice trembling with pain. “Walk away. Run. Don't look back. Once you get to the city, does it really matter whether something like me was real out here in the forest? Just forget.”
“But if...” I pause, and for a moment I think back to the sight of Sonja's dead body in the bath, back in the apartment in Stockholm.
“I see that,” Madeleine whispers.
“See what?” I ask, shocked by the realization that I felt her in my mind.
“Was that her? Your sister?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“You're scared,” she continues. “Why?”
“Because if you're real,” I reply, “then that means she might have been real too. In the bath, I mean. After she was dead.” I pause again. “If something like you is real, then maybe I really did see Sonja's ghost that night before I left. And the look in her eyes... She blamed me for her death.”
Madeleine shakes her head. “It doesn't work like that. Just because I exist, you can't go assuming that ghosts and all other -”
“But if you're not real,” I continue, taking another step back, “then that means I can tell myself that none of it happened. That none of it is real. Even that night in the apartment.”
“Is that what you want?” she asks.
I watch as she tries to limp toward me, but she's clearly still very weak.
“Do you want me not to be real?” she continues. “Would that make you feel better?”
“Maybe,” I tell her.
“Then you need to run,” she explains, “because I'm about to lose control and kill you. I need your blood.”
I shake my head. “Madeleine, you don't -”
Suddenly she lunges at me, snarling and baring her fangs. I step out of the way and she slumps down to the forest floor, but she quickly starts getting to her feet again.
“I can't fight it,” she gasps. “Run, damn you! Get away from me!”
“Madeleine -”
“Run!” she snarls, rushing at me again with her mouth wide open, exposing her fangs.
This time, I turn and run. And I keep running, racing between the trees as I head toward the edge of the forest. I don't dare look back, but I can hear her hurrying to catch me. I think she's still weak, still stumbling, but I can almost sense her hunger, and I swear I can feel her reaching into my mind, begging me to go back so she can feed on me. My heart is pounding faster than I've ever known before, so fast that I can feel my chest throbbing as I race through the forest. Finally, as I reach the treeline and find myself on the edge of an industrial estate, I stop and -
Suddenly I find myself face to face with a startled-looking man wearing a bright green jacket and a woolly hat.
“You alright, mate?” he asks with a faint, nervous smile. “Not being chased by a bear, are you?”
“I have to go,” I stammer, pushing past him. “Just get -”
Before I can finish, I hear a loud thudding sound directly over my shoulder. I stumble slightly as a scream briefly fills the air, and I almost slam into a tree as I turn and look back.
To my horror, I see Madeleine straddling the man, whose face is now bloodied and torn. Leaning down, she uses her teeth to tear at the man's throat, and I watch in stunned silence as she starts draining his blood. His hands are still twitching and I hear a series of faint gasps coming from her victim's throat, but he seems powerless to fight back as Madeleine tries to drink his blood. I know I should turn and keep running, but for a moment I'm struck dumb by the sight of her strength and power. It's as if I'm witnessing the pure, animal fury of a completely new beast.
And with each passing second, the burns on her body seems to be healing a little more, clearing to leave pink spots of flesh.
Finally she sits up, with the man's blood smeared all over her chin and dribbling down onto her bare breasts. Her mouth is hanging open, and I can see blood on her two large, sharp fangs.
“Run, Ben,” she says breathlessly. “When I'm done with this guy, I won't have any choice. I'll come for you next.”
She hesitates for a moment, before leaning down and digging her teeth back into the man's neck. His body is no longer twitching. After a few seconds, however, I realize that although she's still drawing blood from the corpse, her dark, yellowish eyes are staring straight at me.
Turning, I start running again. I don't know how long it's going to take Madeleine to finish with that guy's body, but he was already looking extremely pale and I'm certain that at any moment she'll come after me again.
I race along the side of a small river that runs through the estate, and then I make my way across a rickety metal bridge. Reaching the cover of some factory buildings, I hurry toward what looks like a work-site up ahead, but I still don't see any sign of other people. By the time I reach the far end of the first building, I feel confident enough to stop and catch my breath for a moment, although I quickly turn and look over my shoulder.
She's still coming.
She's on the bridge, headed this way.
I start running again, stumbling slightly as I make my way past the next building, heading toward the gate in the distance. No matter how fast I run, however, I can sense Madeleine right behind me, and I can feel her hunger reaching out to my mind.
She's hunting me, and she's getting closer.
Twenty-Three
Reaching the gate, I find that it's locked. With panic flooding my mind, I immediately grab the metal links and start climbing up. There's barbed wire at the top but I don't care. All I know is that Madeleine is right behind me, and if she gets to me she'll pull me down and drain my blood.
Twenty-Four
Pushing through the barbed wire, I feel scores of jagged little edges tearing my skin. I keep going, however, until finally I fall through the other side and crash down against the ground.
Suddenly I hear something behind me. I turn, just as Madeleine lunges at me.
Twenty-Five
“Move!” Cy screams, reaching down and grabbing my throat before hauling me to my feet. “It's your turn soon!”
He starts dragging me across the dark cave, with only flaming torches on the walls to light
our way. I try to get free, but he's holding me too tight and finally he shoves me forward until I trip and land hard against the rocky ground.
“She's ready for you,” he explains, kicking me hard in the side. “She needs your blood. She needs a lot of blood.”
Turning, I see that one side of his face has been horrifically scarred and damaged. Clearly he survived his encounter with Marston and Sheffield in the forest, and now he's once again working for Madeleine. Unless all of this is just the latest stage of my fevered nightmare, although somehow the pain in my cracked ribs seems more than enough to make it all feel real.
“Where am I?” I stammer, looking around. The last thing I remember is getting attacked by Madeleine in the forest. “How did I -”
“Move!” Cy shouts, pushing me forward.
Stumbling to my feet, I lean against the wall as I make my way along the passage. Just as I'm about to turn back and ask Cy what's happening, however, I see that the passage ends just a few feet ahead, leading into what looks like a large, red-lit chamber with flickering lights on the walls. Too shocked to say a word, I take a few more steps forward until I find myself staring out across a vast, circular room with a high domed roof.
In the distance, I can hear howls of pain.
“She has fed on almost one hundred mortals over the past twenty-four hours,” Cy explains. “I have twelve more ready for her, after you. I fear that won't be enough, but it should be a good start. I just have to keep bringing offerings to her.”
“No,” I stammer, turning and trying to go back, only for him to shove me forward.
“You don't have a choice,” he says firmly.
Stumbling along the passage, I step into the huge domed room and see a scene of utter horror.
There are bodies everywhere. Discarded like rag dolls, they all have thick wounds on their necks. Just a few feet away, there's a dead child, a little girl who can't have been more than four or five years old. Two large puncture wounds have been sliced into her neck, and her eyes are open wide with horror, as is her mouth. It's as if she died screaming. A little further away, the upper half of a dead woman has been discarded with her guts trailing out, while part of her face – including most of her left eyeball – has been gouged away. All the other bodies look similar, torn and ripped apart, left crumpled on the rocky ground.
Ahead, in the center of the chamber, a pool of rich red blood fills a large pit. In the center of the pool, Madeleine is kneeling naked with another corpse in her arms, and she's slowly drinking from its neck.
“She's getting stronger,” Cy tells me, pushing me forward again. “With each body she drains, she gains more energy. I'm sure eventually it'll be enough for her to hold back death forever, but no-one knows how much blood she'll need. No vampire has ever tried to save its own life in this manner before. But isn't she utterly magnificent?”
“Wait,” I stammer, still stumbling forward, “what -”
Suddenly Madeleine tosses her latest victim aside and turns to me. Her eyes are burning with a yellowish hue and her mouth is open, revealing her large, sharp fangs. Every inch of her bare body is covered in blood, and there even seem to be small fragments of bone stuck to her flesh. She tilts her head slightly as she looks at me, and a faint smile crosses her face.
“No,” I whisper, stepping back, “this isn't happening, this is just...”
Before I can finish, Cy pushes me hard in the small of the back. I stumble forward, tripping and landing hard on my hands and knees in a puddle of blood. I wince, feeling a rush of pain in my arm, and then I realize that Madeleine has already crawled closer. Turning, I see that she's just a few inches away, grinning at me as she opens her mouth a little wider. A moment later, a slow hiss emerges from her throat.
“It's me!” I stammer, convinced that she has to realize she's making a mistake. “It's Ben!”
“You're just food to her now,” Cy calls out, keeping a safe distance. “Isn't she stunning, though? Now that she's almost back to her full glory, you get to see what a real vampire is like. You and I, my friend, are among the most privileged mortals who have ever lived!”
“No,” I gasp, pulling back, only for Madeleine to continue crawling toward me on her hands and knees. “This isn't real. I'm going to wake up now. Please...”
She tilts her head again, as if she's trying to decide where to strike my neck.
“You're not real,” I say firmly, even though my voice is trembling with fear. “Something like you can't be real.”
Suddenly she leans closer and lets out a loud hiss, spraying my face with a fine mist of saliva and blood. She reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder, and this time I'm powerless to pull away. It's as if I can feel something in my mind, some kind of extra presence that's forcing me to stay in place while she prepares to drain my blood. Her yellow eyes are fixed on my throat now, and I can hear her rapid, rasping breath. After a moment, I realize I can see her chest throbbing, as if her heart is pounding so fast that it's about to burst through her ribs.
“Please,” I whimper, still unable to pull away, “you have to remember me. I helped you, I saved you...”
“You can't appeal to her better nature,” Cy explains, with a hint of anticipation in his voice. “Humans have a tendency to romanticize vampires, to imagine them as just ordinary people with a penchant for blood. The truth couldn't be further from that. Look at her. Isn't she the most awe-inspiring thing you've ever seen in your life? She won't show you any mercy. That part of her soul has been pushed aside. Her instincts are too strong now, but she's one of the most perfect predators on the planet.”
Madeleine lets out another faint gasp. Her mouth opens a little wider, and I see that her fangs are already stained red thanks to the blood of her earlier victims. She's studying me, almost as if she's teasing herself and enjoying the anticipation.
“It's me,” I whisper. “It's Ben. Please, Madeleine, don't do this! I don't want to die! You're real, I see that now, but I don't want to die!”
“I can't fight it,” she gasps. “I'm so sorry...”
“Stop!”
Suddenly she grabs my head and forces it back, as if she wants to get a better look at my neck. She leans closer and closer, and finally I feel the tips of her fangs pressing against my flesh, ready to dig into my throat.
“I will not die!” she hisses. “I refuse! I will not die!”
“Help!” I scream, powerless to resist as she presses me down against the rocky ground and climbs on top of me. Her fangs are starting to break through now. “Help me! Somebody -”
***
“Help!” I gasp, opening my eyes and suddenly seeing the slate gray sky above.
Sitting up, I find that I'm back in the forest. I stagger to my feet and turn, but there's no sign of anyone. Reaching up, I feel the side of my throat, and after a moment my fingertips brush against two very small tears in my flesh. Not big enough for fangs to break through, but perhaps just big enough for their tips to have briefly begun to sink onto my throat.
She had me. I was at her mercy. So how did I end up back here in the forest?
***
“Whoa dude, what the hell happened to you?”
Stopping in the doorway, I see the look of shock in Davey's eyes. It takes a moment, however, before I realize that I've been running for my life, and that not only did I scramble over the barbed wire fence but I also took a hell of the beating out in the forest. And then everything that happened in that chamber...
Hurrying to the mirror in the corner, I take a look at the cuts on my throat. Sure enough, there are two tiny marks, as if Madeleine started to sink her fangs into my flesh but then – for some reason – decided to hold back.
“Did you get, like, jumped at the cashpoint?” Davey asks. “Or mugged? Dude, seriously, you look like shit!”
“I'm gonna...”
My voice trails off, and suddenly I turn and look back toward the house's front door. I can see the bright light of day through the frosted glas
s panel, and for a few seconds I actually expect to see Madeleine's silhouette coming closer. I'm not exactly sure how I ended up getting away from that chamber, but finally I realize that I don't sense her anymore. I guess I'm safe now that I'm back in the city.
“Dude?”
Suddenly Davey puts a hand on my shoulder and I flinch. Startled, I turn back to him.
“Your face is, like, cut all over,” he continues. “Seriously, what the fuck happened?”
“I just...” I try to think of an excuse, and for a moment I even consider telling him the truth. Then again, I guess he'd think I'm completely insane, and he'd most likely be right. “I think I just had a bad moment,” I say finally. My legs feel weak, and I take a seat at the kitchen table. “I was out in the forest and... I think maybe I need to see someone when I get back to London. Someone who can help me deal with...”
My voice trails off, and finally I force a smile.
“Never mind,” I tell him. “I'll deal with it.”
“But you're okay, right?”
I nod, and he heads back to the kitchen.
For the next few minutes, I sit in silence. I keep telling myself that everything that happened with Madeleine was just in my head, that she can't possibly exist. Hell, I'm a rational, normal guy in his mid-twenties and I know without a shadow of doubt that vampires are just fantasy creatures in books and movies. In fact, I studied them briefly once, as part of my English Literature degree course, and I know that the whole vampire myth taps into some of mankind's deepest, darkest fears. In that context, it's totally reasonable to think that my damaged, grief-filled mind somehow conjured up someone like Madeleine as a means for me to deal with everything that happened back in Stockholm.
But as I once again touch the two small wounds on my neck, I realize that there's only one way to find out for sure.
Twenty-Six
In broad daylight, the Hamburg bus terminal seems far less busy and frenetic. Coaches are constantly arriving and departing, and touts are calling out to passing tourists, offering dubious deals designed to snare the unsuspecting.