by Stead, Nick
“Then face me. Face what you’ve done.”
Rage surged up again, my father calling to it as only he could. The hallucination seemed so real, like the night in Leon’s mansion where I’d thought I’d been back on the moors. All my senses were being tricked into believing he was really there. But when I finally turned around, shock froze the rage before it could take over and I fell back, unprepared for the gruesome sight that met my eyes. For the image of my dad this time was not the man he’d been in life, but the bloody mess he’d been reduced to in death.
He had only a head and torso, his limbs ripped clean from their sockets. Strips of shredded flesh hung loosely from the bloody skull, and entrails lay in front of him where they’d spilled from the hole in his stomach. All damage I’d done to him; to my own father, my own flesh and blood.
“I never meant to hurt family,” I said in a low voice. My rage fell into misery.
“But you did. You did this to me, son. And now it’s time to face the consequences. Accept your punishment and maybe you can know peace in death.”
“There can never be peace for a monster like me,” I growled, and swiped at the apparition. As with the visions I’d lashed out at before, it vanished, and when I turned back around the images of Mum and Amy had also disappeared. I was alone again.
And then the daylight began to fade, just like my life was soon to do, and I could see through the windows that there was another red sky. Except this time, instead of the clouds soaking up the colour of all the bloodshed from lives I’d taken, it was my own blood that was about to be spilled. With dusk there truly came the end of any small hopes I may still have had, and I was forced to accept I would be put to death, whether I truly felt I deserved it or not.
I began to imagine I could feel the fires of Hell reaching up for me. And worse than the torments and the demons that awaited would be meeting any of my victims I’d sent there. I felt certain I would never be allowed to know peace, despite the slim hope of it that my brain had tried to offer through the images of my family. And while I suffered in that inferno below, would the vampires celebrate the end of my race, even after more victims turned up and the realisation sank in that I had been innocent after all? Not that it really mattered. Death was coming for me, and this time there was no escape.
Darkness had fallen and the door to my prison swung open. I thought I saw a robed figure enter, a reminder that the Reaper comes for us all eventually, even those of us granted the power to withstand the ravages of time. But just like during the latest battle with the Slayers, the figure in question was in fact Ulfarr in his usual garb.
“It is time,” he announced. My restraints snapped open with his telekinetic force. “Come. And do not bother attempting to escape. We both know you are powerless to resist my will.”
I had no choice but to follow him. So this was it. After everything I’d been through, my life was to end not by the blades or guns of the Slayers, but at the hands of beings who should have been allies and kindred spirits. I felt strange as I walked in the wake of the Elder vampire, each step feeling leaden with the weight of my pending doom.
Ulfarr led me out of the warehouse and into a nearby patch of woodland. He took me to a large clearing not unlike the one Leon’s mansion was hidden in, and with the moon nearing full again, it was a bright night once we emerged from the gloom of the trees. Waiting there were even more vampires than I’d seen in the warehouse gatherings, as well as a number of ghouls again. With a sickening feeling, I realised that the animalistic ghouls were probably there to eat my remains once Ulfarr had delivered the killing blow, rather than out of any interest in justice. My only comforting thought was that the execution itself must surely be quick and fairly painless, rather than the long and drawn out deaths humans had devised in the Middle Ages. They’d need to destroy my heart or brain to ensure my death, and surely Ulfarr would not want to risk anything going wrong at this late stage.
The walk to the clearing couldn’t have been more than a few miles, but it felt like an eternity to get there. I’d had a sense of going to my death the previous year, when I thought I’d foreseen my end in the battle for my hometown, and again when I’d followed Leon into the Slayers’ base. But at least there’d been room for some hope in battle, no matter how slim, that I might survive. Not like this time, where I was faced with certain death. And at least if I had fallen in battle, I would have gone down fighting. To be executed was not the end I would have chosen, but it seemed it would happen anyway, no matter what I wanted or whether I truly deserved it.
I was led to the front of the crowd. A large rock stood there, like a natural stage.
“Climb,” Ulfarr instructed.
I clambered up, feeling the audience’s eyes on me as I shivered in the cool air, still naked and covered in dried blood. Ulfarr followed close behind, his hand already straying to the hilt of his blade. I could feel his eagerness to put an end to the lycanthropic blight, like an electric buzz crackling around us. Another shiver travelled down my spine.
He turned his eyes to the crowd. “My fellow undead. These are grave times indeed when we find ourselves beset not by human killers intent on slaying beings they perceive as monsters, but by one of our own.”
A part of me wanted to make a comment about that. It was interesting how he was referring to me as one of them again, when before he’d made it clear he thought of me as nothing more than a beast, lowlier than the other races of undead. But I suspected he wouldn’t take kindly to me ruining his theatrics, and that he could find a way to make my death more unpleasant if I gave him reason to. So I held my tongue for once.
Angry murmuring rippled through the crowd. Ulfarr waited a moment for it to die down. I couldn’t see his expression without twisting round, but I imagined his eyes were gleaming again.
“Tonight, I present to you the beast responsible for the deaths of our brother and sister vampires. There is no doubt in my mind of his guilt now, and so the time has come to pass judgement. A few months ago I promised you all justice, and tonight you shall finally have it!”
While the gathered undead roared with approval, Ulfarr commanded me “Kneel.”
“If you’ll grant me a last request, I would rather die on my feet.”
“Why; do you imagine that will allow you to die with some honour?” he sneered. “Animals do not deserve honourable deaths. Now, you will kneel!”
He raised his fist and motioned for effect, like he was pulling downwards on a cord or a chain, and I felt his telekinetic power once more, forcing me to my knees. I tried to hide the pain, but I couldn’t quite keep myself from grimacing. Most of the watching vampires jeered. I seemed to be facing even more hatred than I’d witnessed in my human enemies, but then the undead did have centuries more to nurse their loathing than mere mortals.
I was able to pick out Leon’s face in the crowd, and he alone seemed sorry to bear witness to my death. There was no sign of Lady Sarah, and despite how saddened she’d seemed when she’d visited me in my makeshift cell, I had to wonder if she really cared at all. Why else would she not be there for me in my final moments?
From behind came the sound of Ulfarr unsheathing his blade, with all the finality of dirt falling on a coffin lid. And standing just to the side of me, I again saw Death. Was he real?
“Does it matter?” the apparition answered.
I supposed it didn’t. Whether real or a metaphorical hallucination, either way I was within his grasp yet again, and this time he wouldn’t be cheated. I was acutely aware of Ulfarr raising his sword above my head, my heart hammering in my chest no matter how I tried to calm my nerves. My lupine half’s instincts were screaming to run, but there could be no fight or flight this time, not against the power of my executioner. All I could do was close my eyes to the sight of the hatred in the dead faces below, and wait for the end to come.
I couldn’t escape the vision of Death’s grinning skull so easily. The image of the Reaper remained, waiting patiently from behind m
y eyelids. Then came the sensation of Ulfarr’s blade slicing through the air, carving its way towards my vulnerable neck. And I prepared to die.
CHAPTER TWENTY–SEVEN
Beneath the Mask of Sanity
I kept my eyes closed in those last few seconds before the sword cut its way through my skull. The crowd’s shouts of encouragement were loud in my ears, but then I heard another voice, male, yet different to the Reaper’s.
“It is not your time.”
I felt the blade whistle through the air, just inches from my head. Then came the noise of the metal striking the stone with enough force that I imagined there would be sparks. The scent of humans carried to me on the breeze, and my eyes snapped open again. Slayers were approaching, and they had a spellcaster with them.
Ulfarr hissed and ran past me to face the greater threat to their survival, engaging his enemies with the same feral savagery as I’d witnessed before. Why I’d been spared I couldn’t say. He could have easily carried out the death sentence he’d condemned me to before running into battle, if he was that desperate to see me die. Unless he wanted me to fight with them, but the Slayers didn’t yet have us surrounded and why should I help them when they’d been so quick to turn on me?
The crowd also turned to deal with the approaching force, all except Leon, who pushed his way forward.
“Why didn’t he finish it?” I asked, still confused.
“It matters not. You’re lucky the Slayers decided to strike now, perhaps in retaliation for what we did to their base. My guess is they also found this gathering too great an opportunity to resist, though how they discovered us so quickly is as yet unclear. But none of that is important at the moment. You need to get away from here, before any of them decide to finish this charade Ulfarr is calling justice.”
“I’ll meet you at the mansion then?”
“No! That’s the first place they’ll look once the battle is over. If you head west of here, you should come to an abandoned barn, possibly the same one you sheltered in with Lady Sarah,” he said, pointing. “Wait for me there.”
I nodded and the vampire turned his attention to the battle. They were all fully focused on the Slayers and I was able to slip away with ease, into the surrounding woodland.
I took a moment to make sure I’d not been followed, then I shifted to my wolf form and set out in the direction Leon had shown me. But I hadn’t gone far before I caught the scent of more vampires up ahead, and I slowed, slinking cautiously through the trees.
The familiar scent of blood and death crept into my nostrils. I bared my fangs in a silent snarl, my eyes picking out a humanoid figure crouching over something lying on the floor. Another dead vampire. I came to a stop and tensed, expecting a sudden attack from the barghest again. Yet I didn’t detect any human scents, and none I recognised as Selina’s. My nose only picked up vampires, and uncertainty gripped me. What was going on?
The head of the crouched figure shot up, as though she’d suddenly become aware of my presence. She twisted round with a hiss, and I was shocked to find myself facing none other than Lady Sarah. She was the murderer!
There was no recognition in Lady Sarah’s eyes. She looked wilder than I’d ever seen her, as if she’d given herself so completely to her bloodlust that she’d lost all sense of self. Just like I’d done time and again. And if it was anything like I’d experienced, the world around her had become nothing more than an endless hunting ground filled with prey. But why she’d turn to killing other vampires instead of the human victims she hungered for was something I couldn’t fathom.
The look in her eyes suggested any warm feelings she might have once had for me were currently lost in the chaos of her hunger for the kill. Any answers she owed me would have to wait.
An instinctive growl rumbled deep in my chest, my hackles raised and my teeth bared. Lady Sarah remained crouched over her kill, baring her own fangs. But she made no move to attack as I started to back away. I risked turning and broke into a run, straining my ears all the while for any sounds of pursuit. There were none and eventually I slowed again, to try and work out what direction I’d been fleeing in. Judging from the distant sound of fighting, I’d veered east, so I altered my course, sprinting as fast as my paws could manage in the direction I hoped was west.
Somehow I managed to find the old barn without any guidance from the wolf, and it was indeed the one Lady Sarah had previously found as a temporary shelter for us. I knew how silently she could move and I grew increasingly tense as the minutes dragged on, wishing Leon would hurry up.
The moon had retreated behind its blanket of clouds. She could be waiting in the shadows for all I knew, downwind and cloaked from my senses. There was a good chance she’d already marked me as her next victim, now I knew her secret, and I felt sure she would strike at any moment.
The more I thought about my gruesome discovery, the more it made sense. It explained why she’d always been so secretive and distant, even if I still couldn’t work out what her motives might be for preying on her own kind. But what good did the knowledge do me? I still had no proof to take to Ulfarr and I doubted he would want to hear the truth, even if I had some solid evidence. Convincing him Selina was responsible for the killings would have been one thing, but to present to him another vampire as the murderer, especially one as old and as respected as Lady Sarah seemed to be, would probably be met with disbelief at best. He might well dismiss the notion out of hand, unwilling to accept the truth.
I had to survive the night first though. Was the Reaper still stalking me? He certainly had plenty of agents to call on. Somehow I didn’t think I’d escaped his clutches yet.
Something crept through the shadows. I tensed again, sure it would be Lady Sarah. But then I picked up Leon’s scent and I relaxed. He was here at last, bloodied from the battle and still drunk on the savage joy killing held for our kind.
I couldn’t talk to him while my vocal cords were fully lupine, so I started to transform, deciding to take it all the way back to human. If the battle was over and Ulfarr tracked us down, being in either my hybrid or my wolf form wouldn’t save me. My best hope was to try talking to the Elder again and I felt I had more chance of getting him to listen if I looked human, rather than the savage beast he believed me to be. If Lady Sarah showed up first, I would just have to hope Leon’s greater age made him more powerful, otherwise I was probably equally as doomed.
“Leon!” I said, as he stalked over to me. “I was wrong, that witch isn’t the murderer after all, or at least she didn’t kill all the victims that have turned up. It’s Lady Sarah – I saw her crouched over another dead vampire and covered in blood!”
Leon didn’t seem to hear me. “It’s not safe for you here.”
“Yeah, ’cause Lady Sarah could come for us at any moment. So what’s the plan? I don’t suppose you have another secret mansion tucked away that the others don’t know about, do you?”
Again, Leon didn’t really seem to hear my words. His eyes had a faraway look as if he’d travelled to another reality and was only vaguely aware of this one.
“The moon will be full again in a few days,” he said. “The clouds may hide it now but I feel it, just as you do. It calls to us. We must heed its call and give in to the need to hunt.”
I gave him a puzzled look. Something was wrong – vampires shouldn’t feel any connection to the moon.
He closed his eyes and raised his head to the sky as if he were going to howl, but instead he breathed deep as though savouring the moment. Then he roared, like the big cats he had an affinity for. It felt at odds with the usual dignified, aristocratic character I’d come to associate with most vampires, giving him an air of bestiality, as if he too were a werewolf.
He lowered his head and his eyes opened. And something in them had changed.
A cold, emotionless laugh escaped his lips. “Ah, Nick, how well you think we have grown to know each other and how little you really know. I feel the call of the moon, feel it bringing our bea
sts to the surface.”
All emotion seemed to have drained from him, to such an extent that I felt like I was talking to a stranger. And this new Leon was decidedly less stable than the one I thought I knew, that was clear.
I watched him examining his hands, as if convinced they had become paws. He roared again and shook his head like an animal, swishing a tail that existed only in his head. But his beast, imaginary or no, was nothing like mine. The wolfish part of me respected the sanctity of life while I could see it in his eyes, his beast, born of humanity, revelled in death.
“I am lion again, my true form,” he growled, turning his gaze on me.
His bloodlust was already raised from battle, and I sensed it had soared to new heights, perhaps of the kind experienced by human serial killers. My bloodlust was rooted in the curse of my lycanthropy and my need to kill was tied to my predatory nature and my hunger for human flesh, even though it had driven me to take so many more lives than I needed to survive. But his bloodlust was nothing to do with the relationship between predator and prey, of that I was growing certain.
“Leon, what’s going on? We’re not out of danger yet. We need to get going! We can hunt later.”
“The moon’s call must be answered. You of all beasts should know that.”
“It’s too dangerous with so many enemies about. You just said yourself it’s not safe! We need to go before Lady Sarah turns up, or Ulfarr, or even more of the Slayers. Come on, man, quit fooling around.”
“You are quite right, it’s not safe for you. I will hunt now, but I’m ready for a new challenge tonight.” His lips twisted into a smile, every bit as cold and emotionless as his laugh had been. “Wolf against lion, who do you think will win?”