by Stead, Nick
Such a small morsel did little to ease the hunger pangs. It looked like the town had nothing more to offer, so I left for the surrounding countryside.
There was a large herd of sheep in one of the fields – I could smell them on the breeze. They grazed in blissful ignorance of my presence, enjoying a peace their wild counterparts would never know. But they would remember what it was to fear soon enough.
I stalked closer, selecting my target. Sadly there were no lambs at that time of year, so tender and succulent. Most of them were young enough though, and I set my sights on the plumpest animal.
The wind changed direction and the panicked bleating began. As one, the herd attempted to flee, but wire cut them off at every turn. They were trapped and they knew it.
The time for stealth had passed. I bounded forward, leaping over the fence and lunging at my chosen victim. My jaws clamped down on her neck in a fierce grip, blood welling around fangs and dripping down the sides, spattering the grass at our feet. The sheep tried to run but I was far too strong for her. Hooves kicked up dust as she fought against me, her bleats growing more desperate by the minute.
Barking sounded nearby and a man shouted. I’d learnt much from my human half in the month since my awakening, and I was starting to get an idea of how men worked. That could only be the farmer I was sensing and there was a good chance he’d also be armed with a gun, Slayer or no.
I dragged my prize to the edge of the field, coming to a stop by the wire fencing, as much an obstacle for me as it had been for my prey now. It looked like I was going to have to go through it this time – there was no way I was going to get the sheep over the top.
Blood loss had all but sapped my prey’s strength. I released my hold on her neck and watched her try to rise, only to collapse seconds later. Satisfied she wasn’t going anywhere, I turned my attention to the wire, biting and tugging at the thin metal until a hole opened up. Pulling the sheep through was hard work, her wool catching on the torn mesh and one of her legs getting tangled. Sounds of the farmer coming spurred me on, and with a loud crack the limb bent at an odd enough angle to allow it to slip free. The sheep was too far gone to scream. She was growing still in my jaws, and once we were through I was able to drag her back towards civilisation, choosing the cover of a ditch to eat in.
There I tore into her soft underbelly, organs spilling in a steaming pile of slimy delicacies, slick and tasty on my tongue. The feel of them sliding into the empty pit of my stomach had me whining with pleasure and growling for more. I left nothing of that kill, my hunger had grown so strong. When I was finished, all that remained was a mess of blood soaked wool.
I rose from my meal with the satisfactory feeling of being nicely full, and yet I still craved human flesh. That was when the scent of a lone male reached me, young and healthy, and full of tasty promise.
His scent led to another quiet street, most of its residents safe behind drawn curtains and locked doors. There was no one to warn him when I padded into view, my eyes fixed on his back as he continued down the street, oblivious, and my ears pricked for any sign of the Slayers.
My paws flew across the tarmac as I closed the distance between us. Something made the boy turn at the last moment, but it was too late. He barely had time to scream before I was on him, and we were crashing to the ground, his head in my jaws and the rest of him pinned beneath me. His screams were cut short with a single bite, the skull shattering in an explosion of gore.
Brains oozed between the fragments of bone, thick and delicious. I lapped them up and ate my fill of the more appetising parts of his body, gorging myself until I could eat no more, then I buried the carcass in the nearest garden as I had the previous month.
After that I decided to seek out my alpha. If she’d been one of my kind I would have found her first so we could hunt together, but I knew vampires were more solitary creatures. She wouldn’t have thanked me for disturbing her before she’d fed.
I had no more luck tracking her down than my human half. Sadness filled me. There were still hours of the night left yet and I had nowhere to go. What was my purpose without pack? Rage and bloodlust was not all I was made of. Now the hunger was satisfied, my mind was no different to those of my mortal cousins. I longed for company, for kindred souls to share my experiences with, to run with and chase across the moonlit streets, and to die protecting if it came to it. Even a rival to defend my territory against would have been welcome. Anything but this emptiness, in which there was only the hunger the moon gave rise to and bloodshed. I was so much more than that.
With nothing better to do, I settled amongst the graves to rest. Sleep came easier than it did for the human, but it was a light sleep. I remained alert, keeping an ear cocked and an eye half open, and my nose pointing upwards into the wind.
The sky was beginning to lighten when I took my leave, knowing the human’s home was the safest place to transform back. Climbing up was a challenge, but I was able to get a good jump start, my claws digging into the brick like a cat’s. There came a nerve-racking moment where my back was horribly exposed as I pulled myself up, over the windowsill, and I half expected the Slayers to appear and take advantage. But no gunshots disturbed the night’s peace and I made it inside without anyone seeing.
The next two nights would pass much the same. Lady Sarah was still nowhere to be found, but I didn’t run into any more hunters either. On the third night, the full moon set for the final time that month and I was reluctantly forced back into the depths of our mind, while the human dominated us once more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
All Hallows’ Eve
After the full moon, the month passed slowly, without event. Mum took me to see the optician, who couldn’t explain why my vision had suddenly corrected itself, though nothing bad came of it. The scratches I’d made in the floor were blamed on next door’s cat, who had somehow got into the house earlier that day. My torn socks and boxers were disposed of before anyone found them again. I had still been unable to find Lady Sarah, but there’d been no other close calls since Aughtie’s lesson. Everything seemed to be working out okay.
Halloween was on its way, my favourite night of the year. I used to love the excuse to dress up as monsters and scare people, and in all the excitement any remaining worries were forgotten.
Fiona would be trick or treating with one of her friends from the year below us, Jessica, and she invited me along. I’d had other plans, thinking I’d find some way to set up the ultimate scare for anyone who was brave enough to approach our house, but I hadn’t been out trick or treating for a couple of years so I agreed. I already had a costume in mind for the night, though I thought it a pity I couldn’t control the transformation yet.
If only I knew how to take it far enough to become something half human, half wolf like in the movies, everyone would think it the ultimate Halloween fancy dress. I wouldn’t take it so far that it wouldn’t pass as a costume, just enough to make it effective. But since I didn’t even know how to become a full wolf at will yet – which was probably easier because, as I’d found out in Aughtie’s lesson, once the change had begun, it was hard to stop – or whether it was even possible to do that, I would have to settle for the grim reaper outfit I had already chosen. Which was just as well, considering how reckless a partway transformation would have been.
Halloween was a Friday that year, so my parents had said I could be out later than usual, as long as it was a reasonable time and I stayed with Fiona and Jessica. I had the feeling it was going to be a good night.
The day dragged. I had a double lesson of Graphic Design Periods Three and Four, which was another lesson spent with Lizzy.
She wasted no time asking me what I was doing that night. I told her about my plans, to which she complained “Well she never invited me!”
“Oh, that’s odd. You haven’t fallen out over owt have you?”
“Not that I know of.” She shrugged. “I’m off to a party anyway.”
“Well maybe that’s
why she didn’t invite you if she knew you already had plans.”
“Would’ve been nice for her to ask though,” Lizzy grumbled.
Silence fell while the register was taken, then our first piece of coursework was given back to us.
“I got an A*, yay me!” Lizzy said.
“Nice one!” I looked at my own work. “A B? There must be a mistake. I mean, look at that, clearly graphical genius!”
“Yeah, dream on, Nick.” She paused a moment. “Graphical? Is that even a word?”
I laughed. “Probably not but you know what I meant.”
“Right, class, we need to get a move on with your next piece of coursework,” the teacher said. “Now you’ve done the design work, it’s time for the actual making of your pop-up books. Scissors are at the front if you need them, and there’s plenty of different coloured card and paper to choose from. Off you go!”
Graphics wasn’t a bad subject as far as school went. I liked the creative side of it, and the pop-up books could be on any subject we wanted which made it more fun than other lessons with a set syllabus we had little interest in. I’d chosen to do mine on dinosaurs, another childhood obsession, and Lizzy’s was on Winnie the Pooh.
Lizzy reached into her pencil case for the blunt scissors she carried and pinched the skin of her wrists. I watched with the usual stab of worry as she tried to cut the flesh, even though I knew the blades were nowhere near sharp enough to pierce her skin. They barely cut through paper.
She was weird like that sometimes. I didn’t know why she tried to hurt herself or whether there was anything going on at home, but I’d long since grown used to it. Maybe I should have asked more questions but I was a typical guy in that respect. So we never really talked about it. As far as I knew she’d never attempted to slit her wrists with anything sharp enough to actually do the job, so mostly I just left her to it.
“Want me to fetch some school scissors?” I asked her.
“Please, these are useless,” she said, giving up on her wrist.
I went to grab all the tools we needed to make a start on our projects, then sat back at our desk and prepared to attack the sheet of paper in front of me.
Lizzy watched, a smirk playing about her lips. “You know you’re holding those scissors the wrong way again, right?”
I glanced at my hand and realised I’d put my fingers through the smaller hole that was meant to be for my thumb, and my thumb through the bigger hole that was meant to be for my fingers.
“I can’t believe you still do that. Some days I swear it’s like you don’t know how to be human. We all know you love werewolves, Nick, but there’s being a fan and then there’s being obsessed.”
That was something else I’d done all my life, though not on purpose. She was right: it was like some days I didn’t know how to be human. There were times when human activities even felt awkward, and that was before I’d been bitten.
Once more I found myself wondering whether my lupine ancestors had something to do with my strange behaviour over the years. There was so much about being human that seemed to go against my instincts, like running on two legs. I’d always assumed it was just wishful thinking, but maybe there had been more to it. Of course, I couldn’t tell Lizzy any of that, so I just laughed and agreed with her.
After the lesson, I spent lunch with Lizzy. We ate in the canteen together before heading back to her Form, slower than usual because we were busy talking. A loud sigh came from behind us and someone exclaimed “It’s like waiting for a bus!”
The next thing I knew, two boys had pushed their way past us, shoving me into the wall. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, either. Last time had been in Year Ten and it had pissed me off, but I’d kept my anger well hidden, doing my best to laugh it off. Lizzy had been with me on that occasion as well, and she’d asked “Why do you let them push you around?” I’d just shrugged and she’d let it drop. But now the anger was uncontrollable.
It broke free of its chains and escaped through my mouth in an animal roar of fury. A red haze descended over my eyes, a sea of blood, with the bullies the only clear things left in my sight. I was only dimly aware of the shocked look on Lizzy’s face, but I was very much aware of the mocking expressions on the faces of the two boys. Their laughter cut through me like knives through flesh, wounding, scarring, fuelling the hate. It made me bleed like I had throughout my childhood when they taunted and mocked, all of them, and I was suddenly sick of it. I growled and charged, their laughter turning to surprise and then to a smug confidence, and finally to horror when I was suddenly on the one called Jamie, moving too quick for either of them to react.
I pinned Jamie to the wall, a hand wrapping around his throat. Shock replaced the usual cruelty in his cold grey eyes and his mouth hung open, making his round face appear all the stupider. The dim-witted look to his freckled features was deceiving though – I knew all too well there was no shortage of brains lurking behind them, driven by a sly malevolence.
My fist drew back with the desire to beat the crap out of him, when I felt hands tugging on my arms. Roaring again, I turned on the humans who dared interrupt the retribution I was about to deliver and looked into eyes filled with hurt. The anger melted as soon as I saw Lizzy’s expression, shame taking its place. I’d been about to strike my best friend. What if I’d done her some serious damage, all because I couldn’t keep my rage in check? The fact the bullies had provoked me was no excuse. I should have known better than to give in to my emotions.
It was then I realised Jamie was gasping for breath as he struggled in my grip. I looked back to see his skin turning blue beneath that mop of dirty blond hair, and felt the temptation to squeeze harder, and put an end to the bullying once and for all. But I could never have gone through with it. No matter what violent fantasies I might have indulged in, I had no intention of becoming a murderer for real.
Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my grip and stepped away from him, hands held up to show I was done fighting. Jamie paid me little attention, wheezing and massaging his throat, but his mate glared at me and the message was clear – I was going to pay for that.
There was no attempt to hide the disdain in my eyes as I met the boy’s gaze. I don’t even remember his name. All I can tell you is that he was smaller than Jamie and took delight in taunting others, so long as he had someone bigger to hide behind in case things got nasty. Jamie might be built like a thug, but his stunted shadow was almost as thin as I was.
I turned away and felt Lizzy’s breath on my ear as she whispered “Have you gone mad? Aughtie’s coming! When I said don’t let them push you around I didn’t mean go this far. Jesus, Nick, you looked like you were going to kill him!”
With a shrug, I stalked away, taking long, quick strides so I wouldn’t have to deal with Aughtie testing my temper as well. Lizzy hurried after me and we took sanctuary in her Form, where she kept giving me uncertain looks right up to the end of break. It came as something of a relief when the bell sounded and I could escape. Deep down I knew she was only looking out for me, but I had enough problems without her worrying and starting to question what was really going on.
Jamie was in a few of my lessons, including the two I had that afternoon, but he was careful to keep out of my way. Clearly I’d shaken him with my sudden display of violence, though he tried his best to hide it from everyone else.
Just looking at his ugly face was enough to set the anger blazing in my heart again. How I would have loved to smash his face in and watch him cry, like he’d done to so many others over the years, but I told myself nothing good would come of it. I had a night of Halloween fun ahead, and I wasn’t about to ruin it by landing myself in trouble for fighting.
Later that evening, I sat in the lounge in my grim reaper outfit waiting for Fiona to call, with scythe in one hand and a drink in the other. The younger trick or treaters were already terrorising the streets, and I was starting to feel like I was going to throw up if I had to listen to one more “Aw, how cut
e are they?” from Mum or Amy. Halloween wasn’t supposed to be about being cute!
Movement on the edge of the carpet caught my eye. The spider wasn’t the biggest I’d seen but it would be a monster by Amy’s standards. Full of mischief, I dived for the skirting board and cupped my hands around the arachnid, nudging it onto my palm.
“Hey, Amy!” I yelled. “I’ve got something to show you.”
“So? I don’t care about anything you’ve got to show me, geek.”
The spider squeezed through my fingers and started running along my knuckles. “Oh no you don’t.”
I poked it back into its former position and closed my fist, running upstairs.
Amy had gone up to her room and the door was closed, so I knocked. She glared when she saw me standing there.
“Trick or treat,” I said, and opened up my hand. Exposed to the light, the spider started making another bid for freedom.
She screamed and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her. I forced my way in and she screamed again, running to the furthest corner and scrabbling up her bunk bed to be as far away from the arachnid as possible.
“Mum! Tell Nick – he won’t leave me alone!”
I doubled up with laughter.
“Nick! What are you doing to your sister?” Mum shouted up.
Struggling to speak through the fit of hysterics, it took me a moment to call back down, with all the innocence I could muster. “Nothing, Mum.”
Footsteps on the stairs and a moment later Mum was in the open doorway. Nobody ever believed me.
“He’s got a spider, Mum,” Amy sobbed, bursting into fake tears.
