by Stead, Nick
A chill crept through me as the terrible realisation began to sink in.
“A new challenge?” I asked, praying I was wrong.
But his next words seemed to confirm my fears when he answered “Yes, vampires have kept on proving unworthy thus far.”
“It’s not Lady Sarah, is it? It’s been you all along.”
“Indeed, I am the beast responsible for killing all those other vampires. And when I ripped out their hearts, it made such a glorious mess! Could there be any greater pleasure than ending a life?”
“Is that why you still see the faces of your earliest victims? Not because they haunt you but because of some psychopathic pleasure?” I was hoping if I kept him talking long enough I might be able to break through to the saner Leon I’d grown close to.
“Indeed, I still remember that giddy moment when I killed for the first time, the world swimming in and out of focus as a strange dizziness came over me, and then the beauty of blood splattering as I stabbed her over and over. I can still see her eyes, so wide and full of shock and pain, and the excitement of sending her there, pushing her further towards the void until she fell through into death.”
“It wasn’t theft that condemned you to life in the arena, was it?”
“In a way it was. What is a murderer, but a thief of lives?”
“And the portrait of the woman and little boy? Two more of your victims?”
“Yes. The mansion was theirs until I killed them and took it for myself, but I kept the painting. I guess you could say I wanted a trophy of sorts.”
“But why start killing your own kind? You had to know it would cause Ulfarr to take counteractive measures, alerting as many as he could so they’d all be on the lookout for you. Even with framing me, surely you’ve only bought yourself more time and they’ll catch up with you eventually.”
“Humans die too easily – I’ve long since grown bored of hunting them. And Ulfarr is a fool,” he snarled. “He’ll never accept that a vampire could turn on his own. If he weren’t so blinded by hatred for your kind, he might have put the pieces together before now.”
He paused to admire his claws, then raised his hand to his mouth and spent a moment licking and nibbling at the tips of his fingers.
His eyes returned to my own. “This isn’t my first killing spree, far from it, and it won’t be my last. Taking new names and moving around often helps alleviate any suspicions others might have, but the evidence has always been there, if they weren’t too blind to see it. The time will come for me to move on again soon, though I will miss my mansion. But perhaps I will go to Africa and seek out other lions. Besides, can killing vampires really be considered murder? We are undead after all, forever caught in a state between life and death for as long as we exist. We’re not alive in the same sense that mortals are, and murder requires taking the life of a living being.”
“I don’t think Ulfarr sees it that way.”
He ignored that and continued “My other self has grown fond of you, for reasons beyond me. He wouldn’t have spent so much time training you, otherwise. He even considered taking you with us, when we leave here. But I think you will make much better prey.”
He gave another cold smile, and his eyes seemed to gain a new intensity, glinting with dark excitement. I began to back away, and his smile widened.
“The last surviving werewolf will surely be an excellent victim, and with all the training you’ve been given you will make even greater sport. And perhaps when I eat your heart, the power of your lupine half will transfer to me, and I can be both lion and wolf.”
I realised then the vampire was truly insane, and there would be no reasoning with him. If his plan had been to frame me all along, the help he’d given me was probably just to buy enough time for him to indulge his murderous needs before he was forced to move on. Or maybe some part of him had formed some kind of a bond with me, though whether it could really be considered friendship was debatable if he was a true psychopath. But that part of him was currently elsewhere and if his other self had already decided the time had come to leave the UK, then I had no further use to this ‘beast’ alive. So I did the only thing I could: I ran.
CHAPTER TWENTY–EIGHT
Hunted: Part One
My mind raced while my legs pumped the earth. I pushed my body to its limits, my heart hammering furiously with the strain to meet the physical demands placed on it. It wasn’t enough. Leon hadn’t given chase straight away, wanting to give me a head start to make the hunt last longer, but I was under no illusion as to my chances of escaping. His vampiric powers granted him greater speed and strength, and over the open fields he would easily cross the distance between us and run me down. There was the patch of woodlands I’d explored before with Lady Sarah, but I hesitated as the outline of the trees loomed ahead of me.
Moving through the woods would slow me down considerably, but it should also slow Leon. Maybe if I was able to pick the ground where I would make my final stand, I might find something that evened the playing field somehow. It would give me more thinking time at least, so with a deep breath I plunged between the trunks.
Impenetrable darkness pressed in from every angle. Humanity roamed their streets under the comfort of artificial light, breaking up the blackness into more manageable chunks for the eyes to digest, and in that unnatural world you forget just how dark the night can be. Without any natural light to see by, even my supernatural vision was rendered useless.
I was painfully aware of the seconds ticking by, but I came to a standstill in that blackness, panting slightly from the short sprint. Not for the first time, I cursed my decision to return to human form. For Leon, this hunt was about the thrill of the chase, which meant he probably wouldn’t use his hypnotic powers to subdue me. If it was to be a bitter fight to the death, I would need all the greater might of my lupine form. I daren’t change back without feeding again first though. It would only weaken me further.
Like a blind man, I crept between the trees with my arms outstretched, feeling my way forward. My hands passed over a rough trunk just in front of me. Running any further was out of the question, unless I wanted to risk colliding with a tree and knocking myself unconscious, where I would lie helpless for Leon to finish off perhaps just moments later.
I tried to at least reach for the fires of my rage for added strength, yet even with the moon nearing full, my anger lay dormant again. So instead I tried to focus on the near full moon, hidden though it was behind the clouds. But I felt no sense of that lunar energy or the power it would soon hold over me in the nights to follow. I thought that ironic, when Leon had claimed to hear its call in his insanity, even though it held no sway for him as it did for the wolf in me.
It looked like I was going to have to rely on my lupine half to navigate the woods. I was too clumsy as a human and still too inexperienced when it came to my other senses, still too reliant on sight as my primary sense. And without my eyes to guide me, I might as well have been a full human for all the good my other enhanced senses were doing. But I was reluctant to let the wolf take control. He was intelligent enough to know the hunger needed to be satisfied before risking another transformation, yet the temptation to change to wolf form would be there. And for all his cunning, he was still guided by his animalistic instincts, which I doubted would be much good against the vampire. I knew then I had but one option. It was time to let the last of the barrier between human and wolf crumble away, to let my mind become one again and embrace the advantages of each half.
I paused a second time and retreated into the landscapes of my imagination. The wolf responded to my call, appearing before me as wild and different as ever.
“I know we’ve had cause to fight in the past but it’s time to make a pact. We are part of each other after all and we’ll be stronger as one,” I said.
He studied me and dipped his head in acknowledgement, though he didn’t deign to speak.
I took a deep breath and continued “I’ve much to learn from
you, I realise that now. That darker side of my humanity that you despise, the pointless slaughter, I will – no we will – try to keep better control of it. And while little remains of the human I used to be, anyone I still consider to be a friend from that former life, or any new friends I make, we won’t hunt. Agreed?”
Those cold predatory eyes studied me for a moment as if he was considering what I’d said. He didn’t answer but instead, after what seemed like an age, charged towards me, his consciousness drawing closer to mine. Every instinct of my remaining humanity screamed at me to fight, and I had to force myself to stay passive, neither drawing away nor retaliating when his consciousness came crashing into my own.
I gasped and took an involuntary step backwards, as if it had happened in the physical world and there’d been an actual impact. Then I was back in the woodland, back in reality.
There was the feeling of confusion again, and I was unsure whether I should be standing on two legs or four. But it wasn’t as strong as the first time it had happened, maybe because I was ready for it that night.
Despite the confusion, I was aware of an immediate change to my state of being. In acceptance of who I truly was, I felt at peace for the first time since the curse had taken hold. Those I had preyed upon no longer seemed to be haunting me, and though the savage murders I’d committed were regrettable, there was no guilt. Unlike before when I’d grown numb to the tumult of overwhelming emotions, there wasn’t the same emptiness that had developed or complete lack of any feelings. There was simply no need to feel guilt or remorse because I’d finally accepted my predatory nature.
The rage born of man but fuelled by the curse was still there, and in embracing my killer instincts it flared up again. But with acceptance, above all else came control. I would wield that brutal side to my nature, welded with the hunger born of wolf, whenever the situation called for it, and in doing so give rise to a ferocity greater than that of any mortal beast. Perhaps there might still be times when I lost myself to it – it was too early to tell yet – but without any internal conflict between the two halves of my nature, the rage wasn’t able to take an instant hold like it had in the past. I held it there as it blazed at the very centre of my being, but for the first time since it had awoken, it couldn’t flood my body unless I allowed it to. And I would, when the time came. Leon might hold all the advantages physically, yet in our brutality we were evenly matched. In times of such conflict my rage would prove vital, a killing tool greater than any blade. But only when I chose to unleash it.
I’d kept my eyes closed in concentration, and when I opened them it was as if I had been trapped in a dark room and someone had turned on the light.
The moon had broken through the clouds and it penetrated enough gaps in the canopy that I could make out shapes in the darkness – outlines of the trees around me and obstacles on the ground, such as logs and large rocks. I could see enough that I knew my eyes had changed to the burning amber of the wolf, even though I hadn’t consciously willed it.
But of course, the eyes are not the wolf’s primary sense. Scents were stronger and the wolf in me knew how to read them, coupled with the sounds around us. Not only did my senses seem to have become sharper still, but I was more attuned to them than I had ever been before.
As humans we rely so heavily on our eyesight that we often forget our other senses. We fail to notice most sounds or smells around us, and anything we do pick up is often filed away as background noise. I’d gradually learnt to use scent and sound to a degree, but the human part of me had far from mastered those senses.
Yet with the joining of the two halves of my mind, I was picking up much more than I ever had in the past. And what’s more, I suddenly knew how to process the information. It gave me a far more detailed picture of my surroundings than the one my eyes showed me.
I brought a hand up to scratch my ear and found it was slightly more pointed than usual. A quick feel of my nose proved it had also subtly changed shape, becoming slightly longer and wider – the beginning of a snout. I ran my tongue over my teeth and found them to be longer and sharper – small fangs. I hoped the changes weren’t permanent or it would be much harder to blend in with the human world when I wanted to, but right then I welcomed them. My senses, already sharper than a human’s, had become even more so without using up the last of my precious energy. And with the full use of my lupine instincts, I suddenly knew how to take full advantage of them.
My lungs filled and my heart slowed to a steadier rhythm. Leon couldn’t be far away after the time I’d wasted, but there was no fear. Instead, I felt a cold, predatory calm, despite the threat of the more powerful predator hunting us. A mortal wolf may have been afraid, but we weren’t. We were surrounded by woodland: this was home. We ruled the woods, vampires or no. If our rival proved to be the stronger, so be it. We would fight to survive for as long as we drew breath, but we did not fear death if that was to be the outcome.
I breathed in again, taking in as many scents as I could and searching for any sign of Leon. There was no sense of him anywhere nearby yet, and I was aware enough of my surroundings that I was able to resume running, knowing I would have to fight him eventually but determined to pick the battleground.
I was deep into the heart of the woods before I realised my mistake. The chilly night air swept over my face, cool yet fresh as I breathed in, searching for any new scents it might carry to me. It was the dead scent of the vampire rather than any sound that gave him away. He was nearby and I still had no plan to defeat him. I was hoping something would come to me while I was running, but I had no destination in mind, nor had I come across any landscape that inspired me.
I forced my legs to move faster, despite the burning hunger sapping at my strength. The need to feed and replenish my energy was growing more desperate, but there was no time for that now. My body was charging at full pelt and I had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
A sudden weight landed on my shoulders and I was falling, my momentum carrying me across the ground in an agonising roll of cuts and bruises. Slender fingers grasped my head, ready to crush it to a bloody pulp. I cursed myself, realising Leon had been there all along, flitting between the treetops as I ran. He hadn’t needed to wait for the ideal moment. He’d merely grown bored of what he deemed to be too easy a hunt after all, and had gone for the kill the moment it pleased him.
“Such a disappointment. I had expected more from the last surviving werewolf,” he growled, still acting like the lion he believed himself to be.
My rage strained against the chains I’d placed on it – my last, faint hope. I unleashed it in a rush of primal fury, snarling and writhing beneath my opponent. It was no good. Leon was simply too strong for me to dislodge with my own brute strength, even with the boost from that internal monster. Unwilling to add to his enjoyment, I reined my anger back in and fell still and silent, waiting for the end. I expected to feel fear again in the face of certain death, but the cold calm remained. There was only acceptance of my fate.
“There is nothing more beautiful in life than the moment of death. I have shared more with you than I ever have with any other creature. It is only fitting I share with you your death.”
His grip tightened but there was no sense of excitement or anticipation from him like he’d described in the memories of his earliest murders. Just that infinite emptiness, completely devoid of emotion. Still, I knew this was it. My time had finally come.
CHAPTER TWENTY–NINE
Demonic Intervention
A growl of displeasure rent the putrid air. Tormented souls writhed in fear, each praying they would not be picked as the latest target for His fury. Regardless of who they’d been in life and how great or terrible their deeds, each now existed purely for the amusement of the demon who’d claimed them. They lined the stony walls in this lair of horrors, bound by unbreakable chains and trapped in eternal agony. But their current suffering was as nothing compared with the times when He turned the full force of His ang
er on them.
Flames blazed in the corner, acting as a window to the mortal realm. And there was the source of His frustrations. The insane vampire who threatened His plans, and the werewolf who was the key to everything. But it wasn’t so easy as simply removing Leon from the equation. The vampire’s soul had already been claimed by another, one who rivalled His own power and whose wrath He wished to avoid.
Ideally He would have preferred not to act at all. He’d been so careful in His role as puppet master, subtly pulling the strings of the beings who interested Him and nudging fate in the direction He desired. The time had not yet come to directly influence events on Earth, but that was exactly what He must do if He wished to see His plan come to fruition. There was more at stake here than the mere enjoyment to be had in feeding off the dark emotions of His puppets.
Like the rest of His kindred, He dreamt of the day when they would unleash Hell on Earth and revel in the suffering of the living as the world burned. The Demon Slayers had driven them back into Hell all those centuries ago, but one day they would return to the mortal realm in force. Then no man would stand in their way, Slayer or otherwise. That day was closer at hand than most of the other demons realised, too intent on tormenting the souls of the damned to notice much of what went on in the world above. He alone was aware of the coming shift in the balance, and the young werewolf was central to that. So He had no option but to interfere, in order to keep the werewolf alive.
The demon fixed His intent on the fire, focusing on Leon until it held nothing but the vampire’s eyes, burning with flames of their own – the fires of madness. Despite the bestial growl He’d made, He currently looked like a mutilated, black-haired man. Four gashes split His left cheek into a lopsided, skeletal grin, and another ran down over His right eye, the bone marked with a long scratch in the middle of each cut. Red slit eyes fixed on Leon’s and He whispered softly, knowing His voice would be the loudest amongst all the others clamouring for attention in the vampire’s skull.