The Hybrid Series | Book 1 | Hybrid

by Stead, Nick

  With a roar, he pushed himself away from the wall and charged.

  The chant was getting louder. I took up a defensive stance, ready to absorb the power of his attack, when a cold, stern voice brought a sudden silence to the room.

  “What’s going on in here?” It was Aughtie.

  Jamie stopped just short of me, the anger draining from his face as he put on his mask of innocence, pushing me aside and sidling over to his mates. “Nothing, miss – I was just showing Nick this spider I found.”

  “Well there’s no need for all that noise. Sit down and wait for Mr Turner. Now!”

  Nobody argued. We took our seats and Aughtie left, muttering something about how her nine year old nephew was better behaved. The bell must have gone but I’d been too focused on Jamie to notice.

  With the promise of violence broken, the wolf withdrew, but the lust for blood hadn’t been satisfied and my rage was far from spent. Sitting through Geography seemed impossible when both the human and the wolf in me wanted to hunt. I needed to take my anger out on something. My eyes found the spider cowering on the tabletop and I squashed it with my bare hand. That felt a little better, but not much.

  Lucy had been unable to decide which she feared most, Aughtie or the spider, and in the end she’d compromised, sitting at the table across from me. Once she saw the spider was dead, she came back over to take her usual place in the seat next to mine, though she begged me to move the remains. That was easier said than done. Its body might as well have become one with the table; I’d flattened it that hard that it was stuck there, a mess of tangled legs and exoskeleton in a pool of its own fluids. I thought it a pity I couldn’t do the same to Jamie.

  After Aughtie had gone, he twisted round in his seat to face me and mouthed “This isn’t over.”

  I gave him the finger just as Turner walked into the room, and he turned round to face the front.

  Geography was always a dull lesson, and Turner’s voice usually put me to sleep, but that day I was restless. It took all my self-control to stay in my seat, hands fidgeting with my pen and legs bouncing up and down under the table. Finally the bell freed us from that particular boredom, but there was still Aughtie’s lesson to endure before lunch. I decided I couldn’t face English in my current frame of mind, no longer caring about the consequences of skiving. The anger needed release.

  So when the bell went I took my time packing my bag, waiting until everyone had left the room to slip out and into the flow of students. I let the stream carry me down the English corridor and past the room I was meant to be in, feeling confident I wouldn’t be seen in the throng. Some idiot tried to push past me and I would have hit him if there hadn’t been too many people in the way. Not that I cared about who I hurt at that point, but movement was restricted in the tightly packed corridors and I knew I wouldn’t get in a decent blow.

  We reached the end of the English corridor and the tide split two ways. I had to fight against the current of students to keep heading in the right direction, feeling another urge to lash out. But the next corridor was much wider and things calmed down after that.

  Nobody tried to stop me approaching the door to the outside world. Teachers would assume I was either going to PE or cutting across the car park to avoid the corridors, and the other teens probably didn’t give a damn what I was up to. And yet I felt like I was being watched as I approached the school gates, and when I turned and looked back, I was sure I could see someone standing in the windows on the IT corridor – the highest point in the school. I thought I could just make out the shape of them there, or was it merely shadows?

  Whether the dark shape belonged to student, teacher, or was something else entirely, I was beyond caring. News of my skipping lessons would soon reach Mum, but I didn’t care. She and Dad would ground me, but I no longer cared about that either. It’d probably be a month without the internet, video games and TV. So? I’d wait till everyone was in bed and then I could play on them for as long as I wanted. It wasn’t like I could sleep. Besides, I had other things to do. It would be winter soon, I could feel it in the wind which grew colder and stronger by the day, and that meant the vampires would awaken sooner. I’d be able to spend more time with them and hopefully learn the answers to all my questions and much more. It was a pity there were none of my own kind to talk to, but from what I knew of vampire and werewolf mythology, in many ways we weren’t that different anyway. Assuming what I’d read was true.

  I soon forgot the mysterious figure once I was through the gates. Outside of them it seemed like a whole different reality. The school was teeming with humans, full of their fears, their worries and stress, their depression and sadness. But in the world I found myself in, nature surrounded me, and it was somehow more tranquil, even though it was really a world full of fear and hunger and death, and the urgent need to survive.

  Well, to say nature surrounded me wasn’t strictly true – mainly roads and houses and other man-made things surrounded me. But around those nature still existed, in hedgerows and bushes and trees, defying man, refusing to be conquered by him.

  I felt isolated from humanity then, after seeing eternity stretching ahead of me and realising I would outlive them all. If live was the right word for it. My heart was still beating, my lungs still breathed, my brain still thought, yet I belonged to the undead. But I felt alive. What was I? I didn’t know then and I’m not sure I know now, even with all that I have learned since.

  The wolf was still pushing for the change. I knew better than to transform there in the middle of the street, where anyone could be watching. I needed somewhere quiet and secluded, hidden from prying eyes.

  It was to nature I wanted to go, but the nearest woods were too far to walk to in the time I had (or at least they were while I was in human form) and the fields were too open for me to be able to transform safely in. No, it was deep into the heart of man I had to go, to the part of it which was dead, its decaying shops abandoned and forgotten. There I could transform in peace.

  Crumbling brick shielded me from the bustle of the world at large, the hollow carcass of what had once been a hairdresser’s. I shivered as I undressed in its dilapidated walls, its empty windows open to the elements and providing little in the way of shelter from Autumn’s cool breath.

  The change was still fighting to take hold and I gave in to it gladly now, embracing the pain and enjoying the feeling of my pathetic human frame filling with raw power. I had yet to put that power to the test as I ripped the life from my prey, and with Jamie’s taunts still ringing in my ears I wanted to hunt more than ever. No, not to hunt. I wanted to kill. I wanted to feel warm blood bathing my tongue and gushing down my throat, feel bones shattering beneath the force of my bite and flesh tearing between my teeth. And I wanted to see my reflection when I was done. I wanted to look into the face of my wolf form and see the lupine features I’d been so in awe of as a human. I didn’t even know what colour my pelt was yet, only that it was not one solid colour like the werewolves in movies, but a mixture of greys, browns, blacks and whites like natural wolves, from what I could see spreading across my skin.

  Approaching footsteps only fuelled the rage. Would humanity not permit me a moment’s peace? But judging from the stink he carried in his tattered clothes and matted hair, he was no more than a homeless man looking for shelter – no threat to me.

  I almost wanted him to peer through the windows and glimpse my shifting mass of flesh and blood, melting and reforming into the great predator I was born to be. But that would mean I had to kill him and no matter how angry I was, I had no intention of taking a human life. Hurt them yes, but not kill. Lucky for both of us he passed me by without a glance and I was able to complete the change with only insect life to witness it. There were plenty of them, swarming across the brickwork as though desperate to escape the unnatural predator invading their home. I might have attacked if it hadn’t been for the pain rooting me in place, and by the time the transformation completed, my sights were set on far
more satisfying prey than ants and spiders and other things I had no name for.

  My ears picked up the sound of someone new approaching. The footfalls were lighter than before, and I guessed they belonged to either a woman or another teenager. I’d lingered here long enough. Time to move on before they recognised me as a wolf.

  I slipped out of the old hairdresser’s and into the shadows of the two complete, but equally deserted buildings standing on the other end of the alleyway, emerging onto a quiet side street. A gust of wind greeted me, no longer chilling but refreshing, my thick fur wonderfully warm and protective after the minutes spent exposed in my bare human skin. I took a deep breath and felt my body sing, my muscles charged with an energy just waiting to be set free. Breaking into a run had never felt so good.

  My limbs sprang into a liquid motion, carrying me over the pavement with graceful ease. I needed no time to adjust to moving on four legs and there was a feeling of rightness to it, my mind instinctively knowing how to operate its new shape without the need for the lupine part of me to intervene. The only thing that really took any getting used to was my tail. It was strange, at first, to feel this new appendage trailing from the base of my spine, but even that became natural after a while. I was the creature I was born to be.

  Then there was the speed my legs moved at. The world was a blur as I sprinted away from the town centre and out towards the countryside, enjoying the rush of air across my streamlined shape. It didn’t take long to reach the untamed fields I was headed to.

  I came to a stop on a narrow country road, panting as I took stock of my surroundings.

  Blades of long grass reached up to the sky and the sun that nourished them, covering every inch of the land either side of the tarmac for as far as my eyes could see. It felt like the perfect hunting ground. The vegetation would help hide me from any passersby, and if I heard any helicopters approaching I could crouch down and keep still till they’d passed. Hopefully that would be enough to keep me from being spotted.

  The earth was noticeably softer beneath my paws as I crossed into the field, despite the skin of my pads being so thick and dull compared to my sensitive human palms and feet. I’d barely taken the first few steps when a flock of birds burst into the air with startled cries. My eyes tracked their movements, my stomach giving a hungry growl.

  A rustling caught my attention and my limbs leapt into action once more, carrying me through the grass towards the rabbit bolting for its burrow. I lunged and was shocked to find my jaws close on thin air, my paws skidding as I fought to keep my balance. Clumsiness hadn’t seemed possible in my lupine body, but it looked like I wasn’t entirely free from that particular human weakness after all. I must have overreached and now the rabbit was running out from under me, seizing its second chance at life. The wolf gave a mental growl of frustration and tried to take over, but I pushed it away, too caught up in the primal joy I’d found to give any of it up yet.

  I righted myself and bounded forwards again. And again my jaws snapped on nothing but air. It took a few attempts to get my timing right, but finally my teeth sank into soft flesh and the blood I’d been so desperate to taste burst across my tongue.

  A thrill went through me at the feel of the animal caught in my maw, utterly at my mercy and doomed to become my next meal. Without quite knowing why, I shook my head with a newfound ferocity, spattering the vegetation with crimson and staining my fur with the life I had taken – stolen even. Something in me sobered. What was I doing?

  I started to choke on the fluids gushing down my throat and dropped the dying animal in disgust. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a killer. Meat might be my favourite type of food, but that didn’t mean I had to enjoy needless slaughter. And that was exactly what this was. Shame washed away the rage. How could I have let myself take it out on another living thing like that?

  The rabbit lay twitching at my feet, barely recognisable where my fangs had gripped and sliced through its fur, destroying the fragile framework of bones and flesh. Organs glistened within the gaping hole of its abdomen and shattered limbs poked up from their bed of raw tissue, chalky white on dark red. The scent of all that blood sent the wolf into a frenzy. I might not want to kill, but it had no problem taking what we needed to survive.

  I surrendered my mind to the wolf then, deciding I didn’t want the life of a predator, and would avoid needless transformations in future. If this was the price, I would live without.

  So I let my wolf half satisfy our hunger, first on the rabbit and then a sheep, allowing it to feast and spare me having to face what I’d done. Because no matter my belief in the laws of nature and happiness to keep on eating meat, this was not part of the natural balance of a predator feeding on prey. If I hadn’t chosen to shift, I wouldn’t have been so hungry. Lunch would probably have been burger and chips, and only one life would have been taken to feed many. But no, I’d chosen to let my anger push me to violence and two animals had died for it.

  The wolf allowed me to take over again once the hunger was sated. I found myself standing over a patch of soil wet with the death we’d caused, tufts of wool scattered around a few bone fragments and pieces of gore I tried not to look too closely at. My fur felt even bloodier and I went in search of water.

  I found a pond to dip my head in, washing the blood away as best I could. An overcast sky kept my reflection hidden, which was perhaps a blessing. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see the killer staring back at me now.

  Droplets flew as I shook myself dry, then I returned to the abandoned hairdresser’s and changed back. Fresh hunger pangs exploded in my belly as I reached for my school bag hidden beneath a pile of rubble, impossible as that seemed. How could I be craving more after the wolf had devoured such a big meal?

  My watch said it was nearly time for afternoon registration which meant no more food until dinner. It looked like I was going to have to suffer all afternoon, but it was no more than I deserved.

  Temptation to skip the afternoon’s lessons drifted through my thoughts. In the end, it was only the imagined look on Jamie’s face when I didn’t turn up at the school gates that made me go back. For that was where we would finish it. He would wait for me after sixth period, and if I didn’t show I would be called a coward and the bullying would be worse than before. And worst of all, he would win. The thought of that made me sick, and the anger threatened to return.

  “Is it true? Are you really gonna take on Jamie after school?” David asked, the minute I stepped out of Form.

  I nodded but couldn’t bring myself to speak.

  “Are you out of your mind? You’re no match for him! No offence, mate, but you ain’t built for a fight.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. David’s eyes were full of doubt but he held his tongue, and we walked to Period Five in silence.

  Three thirty came and the bell sounded. Kids poured out of the building they’d been imprisoned in all day. Usually groups of friends would stand around talking while they waited for whoever they were walking home with. There’d be a seemingly endless sea of faces stretching across the front of the school grounds, covering every inch between the school itself and the walls around it. Bullies would torment their victims. Loners and the friendless would snake through the press of bodies to walk home by themselves. But not that day. News of the fight had spread, and most of them crowded round to watch. I soon found myself in the middle, waiting with clenched fists and gritted teeth, feeling the anger smouldering but refusing to embrace it.

  Looking round at the sea of faces, I saw a few I recognised, but plenty I didn’t. My mates were at the front, David laughing at my nerve, Lizzy and Fiona looking worried. But there was no sign of Jamie yet.

  I caught snatches of conversation from the excited buzz of the crowd and it was clear few were there to support me. Like David, they expected Jamie to beat the crap out of me. A handful seemed to believe in my skill at taekwondo, which I might have bragged about when I’d been mortal, stretching the truth about how far I’d gotten wi
th the martial art and how it had given me the ability to handle myself in a fight. It had earned me a bit of the attention I craved for a while, until some idiot decided to see if it were true and punched me in the stomach, after I’d claimed I could block any attack that came my way. My short-lived popularity died to that punch and life carried on as normal.

  Finally the bully decided to show his face. The crowd parted to let him pass and he swaggered over, flanked by two of his mates. It was all the anger needed to flare up.

  “So you decided to show your scrawny face then? Didn’t think you had it in you,” he sneered, before addressing the crowd again, revelling in the attention as he had in class earlier that day. “Hey, have you seen his muscles? No? That’s ’cause he hasn’t got any. Do you know all his mates are girls?”

  David scowled but kept his mouth shut. No matter how mad he thought I was, he knew his own limits and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake.

  “Did you come to talk or to fight?” I said. “This ends here and now. Show us your own muscles, or are you all mouth?”

  He turned back to face me, his own anger stamped across his ugly features. I knew I’d pushed him too far that time. He was done with talking.

  “Fight, fight, fight, fight,” his mates chanted.

  Even if I’d still been human, I wouldn’t have been afraid. Rage was building. There was no controlling it now.

  “Fight, fight, fight, fight.”

  Others began to take up the chant as they had in the classroom earlier, until the grounds rang with the crowd’s need for violence. It was a wonder our teachers weren’t rushing out to intervene. Even after school they could give comments out, and it’d be suspension if they caught us fighting.

  “Fight, fight, fight, fight.”

  Jamie spat on the ground and balled his hands into fists, taking up a fighting stance. I mirrored him, confident in the knowledge I could tear him to shreds if I wanted to. Yet it wasn’t enough simply to know that. I needed to teach him a lesson, needed to make him the victim for a change. Maybe then he’d leave me alone.