by Stead, Nick
Worst of all was the knowledge of the fate awaiting me if I couldn’t find a way out. The thought of being left to rot in the darkness, suffering the slow, agonising death of starvation, was too much to bear. Only the transformation would save me from the damage it would exact on my body. And yet, without being able to feed, my cells would lack the energy needed to transform, and eventually my heart and brain would fail just as surely as if the Slayers had put a bullet through them. But not before the hunger drove me back to teetering on the brink of sanity, until I fell into more madness.
When the Slayers had starved me before, I’d been reduced to a primal beast, my mind far more primitive than the wolf had ever been, before we’d become one. Did I face the same torment again? Or would it be different now I was further along in my lycanthropy? Either way, I doubted it would be any easier.
Anger stirred within, a coiled serpent in the darkest part of my being, just waiting to be set free and fed into rage. I let it rise up until it became a monstrous fiery dragon, blazing with all the feral fury of the curse and filling every inch of me. Livid thoughts seared across my brain. After everything I’d been through, this couldn’t be how it ended.
I’d thought being executed by the vampires would be bad enough, especially when I hadn’t been guilty of the murders they’d accused me of. But at least that would have been a quick, clean end to my cursed existence, even if it wasn’t the one I would have chosen. And I’d escaped that sentence, for what? To be subjected to something even more terrible? That’s exactly what I faced if I didn’t find a way out of this cavern. I couldn’t just give up and surrender myself to such torment, not while I still had the strength to fight.
With a bestial roar, I let the rage send me into a frenzy, raking my claws across the stone and carving deep gouges into the door. It was no use. I didn’t seem to be any closer to breaking through, the panel apparently much thicker than I’d anticipated. My anger would not be so easily defeated, however, and it drove me to lash out again and again. No inch of the stone was safe. My fists sought out anything and everything they could connect with in the darkness, and my caution was long gone, silenced by the deafening thunder of my rage. There had to be a way out and I would find it, no matter the cost. The alternative was just too horrific to accept.
I was vaguely aware of the trickle of blood running across my knuckles as the skin split from the impact. The pain was no more than background noise this time and it did nothing to deter me from my assault on the walls, not even when the bone cracked from the force, just like I’d feared it would. But my sacrifice was to be rewarded that night (or day, since I had no way of knowing what time it was or how long I’d been out after the Slayer had knocked me unconscious), as whatever section of the wall I’d beaten pushed inwards.
The panel I’d been unable to move or break began to lift upwards, with the same sinister grinding I’d heard in countless movies. I reined my anger back in. There’d been no hint of what lay on the other side of the door, even when I’d been pressed right up against it. Caution was the way to go now.
The dull throb of broken bone became more noticeable without the rage to drown it out. I was lucky it was only my left hand I’d fractured, which meant I’d still have my main hand to fight with. But it was an added disadvantage I could have done without.
The panel seemed to take an age to slide upwards. I tried to ignore the pain of my hand while I waited for the stone slab to get high enough for me to squeeze under, my thoughts turning to fresh meat. Then the stench hit me like a physical force, and I reeled backwards with the shock of it. Moments later light flooded in. Under normal circumstances it would have been dim, but after such complete blackness it was blindingly bright, and I could only squint through the glare. The two combined were overpowering, and my mind plunged into disarray.
Only one clear thought burned through the confusion. RUN.
CHAPTER TWO
Passage of Torment
I fought for control of my mind, some part of me aware I’d need more than just animal instinct to escape. It was only through luck I’d found a way out of the first chamber. If all the doors in this place were operated by similar mechanisms, I’d need my ability to reason to work out how to open them.
It took an even greater effort to break through the panic this time. Somehow I succeeded in regaining a hold over my faculties, but no manner of calming techniques would bring my heart rate down to its normal rhythm. I was going to have to manage in the grip of fear as best I could.
A passage lay beyond the doorway. I had to force myself to creep into it, slow and cautious. My eyes were still adjusting but from what I could make out, the tunnel stretched straight and narrow, offering only one direction for me to go in. That felt ominous.
The light became bearable and my confusion grew, which only added to the sense of unease. I could see the walls were indeed carved out of stone. Torches burned in brackets set into that stone – the source of the dim light. What the fuck? I stalked over for a closer look and found it to be an electric light fitted with bulbs to create the fire effect, making them appear medieval when in fact they were part of the modern era. And yet there was nothing modern about the passage I found myself in, at least in appearance. It looked like it belonged in some fantasy dungeon or cave, but what use could the Slayers possibly have for a place like this?
The smell of death was overwhelming. That wasn’t what was setting off my survival instincts though. I’d been around rotting corpses often enough and it wasn’t the same foul smell to my nose as it was to humans. No, it was something beneath that. Underlying the scent of rotting flesh was something else, something that smelled very wrong, though I couldn’t explain why. But whatever it was, its hold over me was so strong that my body remained on high alert, my fight or flight instincts still screaming at me, even after I’d broken through the initial panic.
Adrenaline continued to pump round my system, using more valuable energy I’d have trouble replacing in my current surroundings. But at least it helped dull the pain of my hand.
I tried to remind myself I was one of the monsters that belonged in this kind of place. I had nothing to fear from whatever else might be lurking in the tunnels. My fear wouldn’t listen. I knew all too well it could be any manner of new horrors I was sensing, from the demonic to some new type of undead I’d yet to encounter, and there were monsters far worse than me in this world. I had to trust my instincts, even if I couldn’t let them rule me. So I gave up on trying to calm myself and focused on straining my senses for any hint of immediate danger.
It was hard to tell how fresh that dread scent was with the smell of death so strong in my nostrils. I still couldn’t detect any sounds over my own soft footfalls either, nor could I see any movement in the shadows up ahead. There was nothing to suggest any threats nearby, and yet I could find no comfort in that.
I was tempted to call out in the hopes Lady Sarah and Selina were also alive and had been brought to this same place. But until I knew more about where I was and what was going on, I felt it was safer to keep quiet. It seemed unlikely this was all some complex trap. Not when the Slayers had already had me at their mercy and could have just killed me then.
I also had to remind myself that humans weren’t the only race who wanted me dead. Aside from the creature my nose was detecting, if the Slayers had imprisoned any other undead in here then they could also prove to be foes, after the events of the past year. The Elder, Ulfarr, still believed me to be behind the vampire murders, since I’d never been given the chance to clear my name, even after I’d learned the identity of the true killer. Only Lady Sarah and Selina knew the truth – that the murderer had been the insane vampire, Leon – but even if they were alive, we still had no proof to take back to the other vampires. The older Slayer had attacked almost straight after my fight with Leon, and if my fellow undead were aware I was now missing, it probably only strengthened their conviction I was to blame.
My thoughts turned toward more
immediate concerns. Thirst gripped me almost as strongly as the state of terror I’d found myself trapped in. I was soon hoping to happen across even the faintest of leaks trickling through from the world above, and I tried to focus my senses on finding any signs of fresh water. But the further I stalked down the tunnel with not so much as a glimpse of a damp patch, the more I began to give up hope of finding even a mouthful of liquid to soothe my parched throat.
I don’t know how long I’d been walking when the welcome sound reached me. It was only just audible over the rush of blood pulsing in my ears, and at first I dismissed it as wishful thinking. But no, there was definitely the drip drip drip of fluid splashing into a puddle, growing steadily louder as I pressed on.
All sense of caution withered under my body’s need for fluid. I could think of nothing but the blissful sensation of wetting my mouth and easing the discomfort that came with being so dehydrated, and I quickened my pace, eager for a drink. I just hoped there would be enough to keep me going for the potentially long hours ahead.
It felt like I had to walk for miles to reach the source of the dripping, but in reality it probably wasn’t all that far. Yet only frustration and disappointment awaited me at the end of it. For the drops falling down were not water as I’d first assumed but blood. And such was the strength of the stench in the air, even my sensitive nose had been unable to detect that crimson liquid for what it was.
Beads of it rolled down chunks of fresh meat suspended above the floor. I could just make out the chains they were hanging from, with hooks on the end, speared through the flesh. Presumably those chains were set into the stone ceiling overhead.
Usually it would have been a scent to set my nostrils quivering and my mouth watering. The sight of the meat should have filled me with excitement in anticipation of the feast I was about to enjoy, and the satisfaction I would gain from filling my belly and beating back the hunger. But for once my thirst was stronger and I longed for the water I’d expected it to be. Not that I could even reach the liquid.
I appeared to have found another room, though it was nothing like the one I’d started in. This one was lit for a start, so that I could see into it. There was also a short, narrow passage branching off from the tunnel I was in and leading into that chamber, limiting my view inside. Bars blocked off the side passage so I couldn’t simply walk into the room without forcing my way through, meaning I could only see the section immediately in front of me. And as if the bars weren’t enough to prevent me reaching the meat, metal spikes lined the floor.
They glinted in the flame effect lighting with cruel mocking, their sharp points promising nothing but pain. The design of them meant that stepping between those wicked points wasn’t an option. I would have to walk across and endure the agony of metal stabbing through my feet, if I wanted the gory offerings dangling above.
I wasn’t yet desperate enough to go to such lengths for the bait, so I drew away from the bars. There was nothing for it but to push onwards, down the passage I was already in. And on I went.
The sound of dripping receded. I paused to look back but there was nothing to see now. The room I’d started in had been swallowed by shadow. There was only the bare stone walls with their imitation flame torches set at regular intervals, stretching on for as far as my eyes could see.
I turned back and continued my cautious pace, wondering how far this tunnel could possibly go on for. Other than the side chamber, there’d been nothing to see, and it already felt like I’d been walking for days. But then I found something else of interest at long last – a hint of the modern age.
The camera stared back at me with its cold robotic eye, seeming out of place in the dungeon. It appeared I was being watched after all, but why? Was this some kind of experiment? Was I no more than a lab rat caught in a maze to test the full extent of my capabilities and my behaviour? And yet, if I was the last of my kind, what would be the point in that? It’s not like the Slayers needed to know more about werewolves to help them hunt us down, because there were no more to hunt. So why go to the trouble of studying me, if that’s what this was? And more unnervingly, why hadn’t I come across any cameras sooner? Why was this one placed partway along the passage, and not closer to where I’d started, or in the room itself?
An encounter with something had to be imminent. What other explanation was there? But the tunnel remained ominously devoid of any enemies, Slayer or undead. Save for the flickering of the fake torches, the shadows ahead were still and quiet, giving no clues as to the nature of the horrors hiding within.
I took another tense step, ready to fight or flee at the first hint of danger. The last thing I expected was an attack from behind.
Something charged into the back of me, sending me crashing to the floor and jarring my broken hand with the impact. Pain racked my body and I gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of me, barely managing to twist round before my assailant could pin me down. He was a vampire which explained why I hadn’t heard him coming, but even with the other smells dominating my nostrils, I should have caught his scent. And even if he was one of the vampires with shifting capabilities, he still shouldn’t have been able to sneak past me to launch an attack from behind. Unless we’d been locked in the same room but then, why wouldn’t I have sensed him in there?
The vampire knelt over me and bared his fangs. I locked gazes with eyes the colour of the ocean on a winter’s day. Hatred burned in their depths, like the shadow of the kraken lurking in the abyss. I struggled to wriggle free, knowing he was probably playing with me and that I was doomed if he grew bored of the game and decided to end it. Worse than the hatred, I could see the hunger prowling behind his eyes, wrestling with the loathing he felt for my kind. I wasn’t the human he craved but, if he’d been starving long enough, I knew that wouldn’t put him off for long.
My teeth and nails were still lengthened into fangs and claws, and I was able to swipe at the vampire with my good hand. He tried to dodge but was too slow, perhaps because of the inner battle he was waging. Or maybe he’d been captured and starved for longer than I had. The why didn’t really matter. My blow landed and the flesh parted, slashing open his face with four deep gouges running across his eyes.
Blood ran down and the vampire recoiled on instinct, cursing and rubbing at his stinging orbs. It was enough to give me the advantage I needed to dislodge him and squirm out of his grasp. I barely made it to my feet before he recovered and lunged again. The next thing I knew, my back was slamming into the wall and his hand was around my throat.
I dug the claws of my good hand into his pale skin. He merely gritted his teeth against the pain, looking more monstrous for the blood staining his face and leaking into his thick beard. If he bled long enough it’d weaken him further, but it would also make his hunger stronger and he’d have no choice but to feed on me, hatred for the bestial side to my kind or no. It was over.
“Wait,” I panted.
“Are you going to ask me to spare you?” he sneered in a thick accent, one I didn’t recognise but which sounded exotic. “Save your breath, beast. We all know you turned on us, even if Ulfarr has yet to prove it. I’ll put you down now and free us of the lycanthropic blight, and when I get out of here, the Elder will reward me greatly. Your blood will give me the strength to break out of this accursed place, distasteful though it may be.”
“It wasn’t me. When we get out of here, I can prove it,” I gasped, his grip tightening.
“And why should I believe you? You would say anything to save yourself.” But he did slacken his grip again. It seemed he could be reasoned with, at least.
He had a point though. I didn’t even know if I could find a way to prove Leon was the real murderer, assuming we ever made it out of the unusual prison we were currently trapped in. But I didn’t tell him that.
“I know you’ve got no reason to trust me,” I croaked, rubbing my throat. Now it was bruised as well as dry. Just what I’d needed. “But think about it, we’ve got more chance of
getting out of here if we work together. At least for now. I need to feed before I can transform again, so it’s not like I’m much of a threat to you for the time being, and I’d struggle to give you the slip. All I’m asking for is a temporary truce.”
“And I need to feed to regain my strength. I’ve got more chance if I just drain you of your blood now. So why should I spare you?”
“This might be about more than just strength. Aren’t you at least a little curious, or suspicious or whatever, of what’s going on here? The Slayers brought us to this place for a reason. I can’t work out what yet but they could have just killed me the night they captured me, so this has to be about more than just death. Instead they knocked me unconscious and brought me here, wherever here is.”
He didn’t answer but I guessed he’d been asking himself the same questions. There was a calculating look in his eyes.
“And look, we’re being watched,” I continued, indicating the camera. “I don’t know about you, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been captured by Slayers. I’ve been inside three of their bases now; one of which was used for training, and the other two were for holding us prisoner so they could torture us for information and dissect us alive. None of the three bases were anything like this. I can’t work out what purpose this place serves, unless it’s just another experiment of some kind. But whatever they’re up to, it can’t be good. They had something down here, something that just feels so fundamentally wrong that it’s playing havoc with my instincts.”
The vampire grunted. “Yes, I sense this thing you speak of. It’s not a creature I’m familiar with but it does feel wrong, like it doesn’t belong in this world.”
“Right. Whatever it is, I don’t think either of us being at full strength is going to help. Look at it this way, if you keep me alive for a while then at least you can use me as cannon fodder, and you might stand a chance of getting away.”