by Stead, Nick
The recognition I had to leave was a hard one, especially with the thought of what Dad’s death would do to Mum and Amy. But my time amongst humans was over. I belonged to the world of the undead now.
“Then we should leave straight away, before you change your mind again,” she said.
“Wait, you said you were staying. You’re coming now?”
She smiled. “You still have much to learn. If you are to leave the human world behind, you must learn to live in our world. I will teach you. And besides, you may be the last of your kind. I will not be responsible for the death of your race.”
“What about making more undead round here?”
“One of the others can stay behind and make the most of the absence of the Slayers in this area, for as long as it lasts.”
I nodded, and was secretly grateful she was coming. Eternity was a long time to be alone. “Before we leave, there’s some things I have to do. Wait for me back at the graveyard – I won’t be long.”
Alice watched me with his cold dark eyes as I walked into my room for what was probably the last time. There was no way I could take him with me, much as I wanted to. Mum wouldn’t look after him, but I knew she’d find someone to take him in.
To my family I’d be dead. They’d hope I’d come home again, but as the days became weeks and the weeks became months, they’d lose that hope and finally come to accept that I really was gone. It pained me to think about what they would go through, but what choice did I have? They were in danger as long as I lived with them. I wouldn’t be the one to get them killed.
I knew I couldn’t take anything with me, tempted as I was. In leaving I was sacrificing a lot, but then, I had eternity. Maybe someday, when the war was over, I might enjoy human pleasures again, but until then I had to leave it all behind. I wasn’t human anymore.
Taking one last walk around the house, I let myself remember the good times, tried not to think about the bad, and listened to the soft breathing of Mum and Amy in their sleep. I didn’t want to go, but dawn was not far off and Lady Sarah would need to sleep soon. We had to be out of the town by then. So I bid them a silent goodbye, and took my leave.
I was on my way to the cemetery when a figure stepped out of the shadows. A silent tear slid down my face at the thought of all I had lost that night and what I had been forced to leave behind, and I raised my eyes to the heavens, thinking what now? I’d had enough shocks for one night. What else could fate possibly have in store for me? Whoever it was this time, I would not let them see me cry, pretending to rub my eye as I wiped away the tear.
The figure came into the light, a boy who thought he knew me once, a gun in his hand.
“Put the gun down, David,” I said, with a calmness that should have been at odds with the situation, given the firearm he was pointing at my chest.
“Give me one good reason why I should,” he answered.
“You’ll live to regret it, mate.”
“Don’t call me mate!” he screamed, sobbing uncontrollably, the gun shaking in his hands. His finger was dangerously close to squeezing on the trigger. “I’m not your mate! You killed Fiona. I know it was you. You knew something, so I followed you until I learnt the truth. It was you all along; you were the monster! I loved her.”
“Ha! Love. She never loved you.” I’d just killed my own father. Of all the deaths I’d caused, his had affected me most deeply, for no matter how much I’d hated him, I couldn’t kill my own flesh and blood and not be affected by it. I don’t know what I was feeling – my emotions were in turmoil and my soul was almost consumed by darkness – and there was David, weak and afraid and angry, and I didn’t care if I hurt him. I didn’t even care how he knew it was me who had killed her. I remembered when he’d confronted me at break just before Mr Enderson’s lesson, when I’d told him to forget and he’d said he couldn’t. And then I understood. It hadn’t been the Slayers following me all that time, it had been David, probably following me in the hope that I’d lead him to the monster. And I had led him to the monster. At some point he must have seen me transform.
“Yes, I killed her. So go ahead and shoot me but it won’t solve anything. You’re not a man yet, just a scared little boy. You know nothing of killing and revenge. You don’t have it in you. You’re not a killer, David. Put the gun down. She never loved you. The sooner you get that into your thick skull, the sooner you can move on with your life. She never loved you and she never will, in this life or the next.”
At my words, he collapsed into a pathetic heap on the floor and wept. The gun lay forgotten by his side. I left him to mourn as I walked the rest of the way to the cemetery, where I cast off the last shreds of my humanity.
Minutes later, I walked away into the night with Lady Sarah by my side, into a new life in an uncertain world – one which had begun to go through a transformation as dramatic as the one I faced every full moon. I was done with humanity. With my father’s death I couldn’t be a part of the human world any longer and it was time to move on. I was truly one of the undead now, and it was to their world I must go. We had won the battle but the war was not over. There was much work to be done.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Beyond the Grave
Screams of the damned rang through the bowels of Hell, an endless noise echoing around dark caverns and black pits as souls writhed in torment. The only light came from the eternal fires stoked by demonic masters, casting an orange glow over mutilated bodies trapped in their own unique suffering.
Such pain and despair served as a banquet for their torturers. Most were content with these sinners and lost souls, their bestial faces twisted with delight. But there was one who took an interest in the events up on Earth.
He sat apart from the rest in a lair He had fashioned for Himself, a dark place where nightmares were made. The souls He had claimed hung chained to the stony walls, their punishment the worst of all. He knew what lay in the hearts of men and beasts, both living and dead, both damned and pure, and He prided Himself on His creativity when it came to devising their torment. Even now it made Him smile to feel the state of terror and agony each one was in, their blood a shallow lake lapping at His black fur. He liked blood. It gave Him sustenance and strength.
Bones lay dotted about and a throne of body parts rose up in one corner, where He liked to sit and watch them suffer. But not now.
A fire burned in the corner, different to all the others – for this was a window looking into the world above. His monstrous form hunched over it, bat-like wings stretching out behind Him, then curling round the flames to shield them from view.
Bone protruded through muscle where His back was torn open along the spine, each vertebrae moulded into a vicious spike, curved like shark’s teeth. Flesh clung to the base, glistening with blood.
A hand that was somewhere between wolf and human splayed out beneath Him, long claws gouging scars across the floor. Along the knuckles He bore a similar wound to that along His spine, more bone rising above flesh.
His face was hidden by darkness, but a flame reached up as if to lick its master, briefly illuminating a lupine snout lined with razor sharp fangs. Again, and it revealed more wounds carved into the flesh.
The right side bore a large cut over His eye, trailing down from His forehead and onto His muzzle. On the left were four identical gashes stretching across His jaws, each one just over a centimetre wide and a centimetre apart, as if they had been caused by large claws slashing through the flesh, right down to the bone. Even the gums were gone, exposing fangs in His relaxed face and giving Him a permanent, lopsided snarl. The bone itself had been marked with a long scratch in the middle of each cut.
Slit eyes glowed blood red, gazing at the images of a werewolf and a vampire as they left behind a trail of carnage and set out on a journey that would change the world. He breathed in the putrid air in a sigh of satisfaction. Both lungs could be seen swelling as He did so, His chest ripped open just above the diaphragm to reveal the ribcage and the orga
ns within, all riddled with maggots.
Something moved in the darkness and the head of a huge boa constrictor swayed into the dancing light. Its body rested on one shoulder and coiled around the muscular torso, its tail reaching down to the top of a thigh. A tarantula crouched on the other shoulder, completely still.
Shadows shifted and the beast was gone, replaced by a man with black hair and the same blood red eyes. His wounds remained, though now on His face the cut over His eye extended from the top of the forehead into the bottom of His nose, and the four gashes gave Him less of a snarl and more a skeletal grin. The bones along the knuckles and spine had reverted to their normal human shape, though they were no longer visible in the darkness. Only His face could be seen, the rest of His body hidden entirely in the suffocating sheets of black that engulfed Hell.
He smiled as He watched the events unfolding, whispering into the darkness.
“And so it begins.”
EPILOGUE
I fall silent. You look at me expectantly, eager for me to continue. The storm has long since passed, but you don’t appear to have noticed.
I shake my head. No, friend, I must leave it there for now. Do you not feel its power? The moon is full once again! Perhaps not. You are only human after all.
Moonlight creeps into the cave and the transformation takes hold. I must conclude the first part of my tale to feed.
You look on with horror as you realise it really is all true. But a grim fascination prevents you from running, and you find you can’t look away as my face bulges outwards into a snout and my teeth become fangs.
Bloody images flash through your mind and panic rises. You wish you were home already, safe behind locked doors. Where is home? Can you remember the way you came?
A smile would curve my mouth now, if I were still human. I feel better for talking about my past, though it doesn’t change the fact I am still alone. No matter. My humanity is fast disappearing, falling to the onslaught of the beast. Perhaps it will die along with you, memories I have recovered lost again, maybe for eternity this time. Or maybe not. I’ve been at this point so many times before, and a part of me wishes I could forget, just become an animal and join the natural world where the laws of survival are simple. I was so close before you made me remember, but I can never truly belong to that world. I will always be a hybrid, belonging to both worlds and yet a part of neither. There is only the world of the undead for me now, and even they abandoned me. My sanity is slipping once again.
Part of you can’t tear your eyes from the impossible sight of my body changing from man to monster, but you realise to stay and watch is to forfeit your life. So you run.
Everything looks different in the darkness. The only light comes from the moon overhead, faint and ghostly. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust after the brightness of the flames, but you realise you can just make out a path between the trees. Did you come that way? Reason suggests it must eventually lead out of the woods and you run for it like it’s your last lifeline.
A howl rings out from the natural shelter, the transformation complete. I follow, swift and silent as death.
You push yourself to greater speeds and know it will not be enough. Your legs burn, your heart pounding against your ribcage as if it’s trying to escape, your lungs demanding more oxygen. You already feel exhausted, but fear keeps you going.
Salvation! You find the main pathway and up ahead you can see streetlights, and hear the sounds of civilisation. If you can just reach them, maybe the werewolf will pick someone else.
How close am I now? You turn your head just enough to see behind you and a sob escapes your throat at the sight of me closing in. You’re too busy watching me to see the thick tree root barring your path.
“No!” you scream in frustration as you crash to the ground. The lights are so close, so close and yet so far.
You twist round onto your stomach as I pounce, screaming again and praying someone will hear and come to your rescue, or come to take your place. But you know my secrets now: it has to be you who feeds me tonight.
My jaws fill your vision, my mouth encasing your head. The sight of my fangs is the last you will ever see as they close round your skull, gouging out your eyes and driving deep into your brain, bringing the sweet release of death. And no one will ever know what became of you.
There comes a brief sensation of intense pain, the last thing you will ever feel, and then you fall into darkness and the last thought dies in your head.
Your brain is dead, but your body has yet to realise it. You twitch beneath me, your limbs convulsing while I gorge myself on your flesh. In time I will continue my tale where I left it, when I find another fool to listen, another easy meal. Not that you care. All that you ever were and all that you may have become leaks away through your ruined eye sockets and the puncture holes in your skull, and then you are no more. Your earthly remains will soon be long gone.
As for your soul, only you know what will happen to that. If you’re lucky you may reach Heaven. Or you could face an eternity of pointless wandering, trapped in the shadow of your former life, or worse, endless pain and suffering in the fires of Hell. Or perhaps worst of all, you could cease to exist, never to know or see or hear ever again.
Or perhaps you will rise as one of us.
All is darkness. You’re alone, lost in the void of the great beyond, all alone. Frightening, how one second you can be here and the next gone. But it awaits you all. And in the blink of an eye, you cease to exist.
Dear Readers
Thanks for reading Hybrid. I really hope you enjoyed this first book in the series and will check out Hunted (second edition coming soon!). As you might have already gathered from my note at the start of the book, Hybrid has been a real labour of love over the seventeen years it's taken to get to this revised version, and is the result of hundreds of long hours spent at my desk. If I could ask a few moments of your time in return, please would you write me a review?
It doesn't have to be detailed. In fact, you don't even have to write anything if you don't want to – even a star rating is a big help! But reviews are really important for bringing new readers to the series, and bringing me a step closer to my dream of quitting my day job and becoming a full time author.
I'm always grateful to my readers who take the time to do this for me, and I do read each and every one of them. A good review always makes my day, and a critical review can provide the feedback I need to keep on improving and growing as a writer.
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Then click ‘write a product review' next to your Hybrid order.
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Thanks again!
HUNTED (Sample)
Book Two of the Hybrid Series
Blood pooled at my feet and seeped into the soil, the last remnants of life from my latest kill. He fell to the ground and another human took his place. The sounds of battle filled the night: the crack of gunfire, the heavy thud of sword through bone, and the wet, tearing sounds of flesh being ripped apart.
Corpses littered the battlefield, some rising as zombies, others never to rise again. Zombies – they were everywhere. Moving through the battle in a cascade of maggots, each in various stages of decay. The new dead walked almost like humans. The older ones limped, their muscles stiff and almost useless. Some were reduced to skeletons, Lady Sarah’s power the only thing binding the bones together. Some had died in the last world war, their legs long since blown off. They dragged themselves along with their hands. Some groaned. Others were silent, their vocal cords rotted away years ago. Few of them were whole, but they didn’t need much to kill. One of them
even had a head missing, but it seemed to be doing well enough without it.
They pulled their victims apart. Some of them ripped through flesh and bone with their teeth. And they were literally unstoppable. Bullets tore holes in them, blades hacked them to pieces, and still they carried on their relentless attacks. Most of them didn’t even bleed. The freshly dead did, but there was no clotting, no healing, not like the living. Of all the undead, they were the closest to being truly dead.
Another human came at me with a sword. Clawed hands shredded his skin and blood poured, my fur soaked with it. Then a zombie crawled towards me, dragging its useless legs because the nerves had been torn out at the base of the spine. A short length of intestine trailed behind it, the rest having been cut away after it had served its purpose as rope to bind her. It was a woman once, barely recognisable now.
Empty sockets gazed upwards. Her nose twisted at a crooked angle, swollen and bloody, and her ears were long gone. The lower half of her face was missing. Teeth grinned, skull-like and macabre. There wasn’t an inch of her body that had been left untouched.
Other zombies lurched towards me and I found myself surrounded. But something was wrong, we were supposed to be on the same side.
The zombie of the tortured woman latched onto my leg and bit down hard enough to draw blood. A scream tore from my throat as a second zombie sunk its teeth into my shoulder. I tried to fight them off but it was no use, they were too strong for me. My human hands tore at the second zombie, trying to pry its jaws off my flesh. But that wasn’t right either, I didn’t remember transforming back to human…