Her Vampyrrhic Heart

by Simon Clark

  ‘I don’t know, Jez. What we should do is get that phone of Kit’s to the police as quickly as we can.’

  ‘They’ll have to believe that kind of evidence, won’t they? They’ll bring in the army and scientists and all kinds of—’

  Jez didn’t get any further, because a sudden concussion shook the house. This was followed by a terrifying scream. Owen knew that scream had come from Eden. She sounded as if she knew she was going to die.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Screams echoed through the farmhouse. Owen Westonby hurtled out of Jez’s bedroom and down the stairs.

  Kit emerged from the back room, his face white with shock. ‘What’s happening? Who’s that screaming?’

  Eden’s screams of terror grew louder, more desperate.

  Following the sound, Owen sped along the corridor to the kitchen at the back of the house. He burst through the door where an incredible sight met his eyes. Eden yelled as she tried to shut the back door. The reason she couldn’t close it was because a dozen naked arms, resembling pale tentacles, had forced themselves between the door and the door frame. A hand curled around the door from outside to grab Eden’s hair.

  Owen ran across the kitchen where he tried to peel back the fingers that clutched Eden’s blond strands.

  ‘Forget my hair!’ she yelled. ‘Just help me shut these out!’

  Owen tried to push the door shut. However, the arms writhing through the five-inch gap made it impossible.

  ‘Who are they?’ Owen shouted.

  ‘It’s that animal! The one Kit filmed!’

  An arm pushed through the gap, revealing bulging muscle. Fingers tried to rake Owen’s face.

  He flicked his head back to avoid being scratched. ‘We’ll have to open the door!’

  ‘No way! We can’t let it into the house!’

  ‘Are you sure it’s—’

  ‘It’s the monster, Owen! Believe me, it’s the monster! And it’s a lot bigger in real life than the video!’

  Kit helped, too, as they tried to close the door. Just then, Jez clattered into the kitchen. He possessed real muscle and soon they managed to trap the arms between the door and the frame. The naked limbs swayed from side to side with a snake-like motion. What reinforced the serpentine effect was the hissing sound from outside.

  Kit panted, ‘I told you it was real.’

  ‘OK.’ Jez nodded, ‘We believe you.’

  ‘We won’t be able to shut the door,’ Owen told them, ‘unless we can get these arms out of the way.’ A hand swayed close to his face, fingers grasping blindly. All too clearly, he saw the bluish fingernails. One thumbnail had been ripped off in the struggle. Beneath the nail the raw flesh was grey and wet.

  ‘What do you suggest?’ shouted Eden. ‘Because when I opened this door that thing out there rushed the house like a mad bull.’

  Jez leaned sideways to pull open a drawer. ‘Let me try something … I’m starting to learn a thing or two about pain.’ From a clutter of tools he pulled out a hammer.

  Eden gave a grim nod. ‘Do it, Jez! Give it hell!’

  Jez used his good arm to deliver the punishment. The hammer struck one limb, bristling with red hairs. At the second blow the arm went into spasm, the fingers stretched out, quivering. With amazing ferocity, he beat the arms that protruded through the gap. One of the blows shattered fingers, the next cracked the bone in a forearm. The arms went frantic.

  Owen called out, ‘Get ready to open the door on my command. OK? We want that thing to yank its arms out – that way we can shut the door.’

  ‘Just a couple more swipes.’ Jez grinned as he aimed the hammer at a bare elbow. The impact of the steel on the elbow opened up the skin. Owen saw dirty white bone. No blood, though. Meanwhile, Eden dealt with the hand gripping those strands of hair by simply jerking her head back.

  ‘Let it keep a souvenir!’ she yelled.

  The hand began a cobra-like sway with strands of blond hair clutched in its fist.

  Jez swung the hammer – the man had become a born-again warrior. The hammerhead ripped away fingernails, which pitter-pattered on to the kitchen floor, where they resembled delicate seashells.

  ‘It’s hurting,’ Kit whooped. ‘Jez, you hurt the bastard!’

  ‘Alright,’ Owen hissed. ‘On the word Go. Let the door open – just by a couple more inches.’

  ‘Not an inch more!’ Eden warned.

  ‘We don’t want that sucker in here,’ Kit said with feeling.

  ‘GO!’

  They allowed the door to move towards them a couple of inches. Whoever – whatever – was out there withdrew its wounded arms in a flash. Immediately, Owen and the others slammed the door shut. Eden turned the key in the lock. Owen and Kit took care of the bolts, snapping them across.

  Jez wiped sweat from his eyes. ‘That’s a good door. It’ll keep out plenty of bad guys.’

  Kit raised his eyebrows. ‘Will it keep out a monster? I don’t think so.’

  Eden darted to the window. ‘I can’t see it.’

  ‘Maybe it’s gone?’ Jez sounded hopeful.

  At that moment, they heard a loud scraping.

  Owen’s heart thudded as a sense of dread replaced the exhilaration he felt on successfully closing the door. ‘It’s climbing up the outside of the house.’

  ‘We could run for it?’ Eden suggested.

  Kit shook his head. ‘I’ve seen that thing before, remember? It moves fast. Just picture someone trying to out-swim a man-eating shark. We wouldn’t stand a chance on foot.’

  What Eden said next sounded so matter-of-fact, yet so profoundly shocking, that they gawped at her. ‘If we can’t run away from that thing, then we’ve got to kill it.’

  Kit’s eyes bulged. ‘Holy Mother of God. How?’

  Owen thought fast. ‘Jez, where’s the gun?’

  ‘Outside.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Kit’s friend knocked it clean out of my hands.’ Jez grimaced. ‘She didn’t want shooting a second time.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘The front yard.’

  Owen nodded, knowing what he’d got to do.

  Kit grabbed his arm. ‘Hey, Owen, don’t go out there. That thing will pounce on you in one second flat.’

  ‘Smack pans on the kitchen walls,’ Owen told them. ‘Make some noise for me.’

  Eden kissed him. ‘Get the gun. But come back safe.’

  Kit’s eyes were wide – just bulging right out with horror. ‘You can’t. You’ll be killed.’ He turned to Jez. ‘Your Dad’s got another gun, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Sorry, guys. That’s the only shooting iron we’ve got.’

  Owen grabbed a wok from where it hung on the wall and shoved it into Kit’s hands. ‘Hard as you can. Bash the walls. Keep the big guy distracted.’

  Owen ran for the front door. He felt a mixture of dread and total excitement as he thought: it’s true what they say, the closer you get to death, the more you feel alive.

  Behind him, the three made an enormous clatter, striking the walls and the kitchen stove with heavy iron pans. It sounded like metal thunder. Cautiously, he opened the door on to a moonlit yard. Snow glinted. He saw drops of blood. Probably Kit’s. But no gun. From the house came clanging, crashing, an immense din. Those three drummed with those pans as if his life depended on it. Which, when it came down to it, he admitted, was absolutely the case.

  Owen crossed the yard, searching, hoping the creature’s attention had been drawn to the hullabaloo. When he ran through deep shadow he found the shotgun by kicking it, rather than seeing it. Seizing the weapon, he ran back into the house. He closed the front door, locked it, bolted it. No sooner had he done that than there were sudden yells of panic. This time they came from the back room where, earlier, Kit had flounced away to sulk.

  Eden stood at the doorway to the back parlour that served as the farm’s office.

  She pointed into the room. ‘Look!’ she cried. ‘It’s trying to find a way in.’

 
Owen ran along the corridor. ‘Jez, where are the shells?’

  ‘You’ve got four in the magazine. I’ll get more.’ Jez ducked into another room where his father kept the ammo.

  Owen just didn’t know what to expect when he entered the back parlour. Eden followed, even though he waved his hand behind him: a stay-back gesture. He’d fired pump-action shotguns like this before, so he knew how to chamber the round. That done, he slid his finger around the trigger. The parlour extended out at the back of the house. An archway in the wall led to a conservatory made from a plastic frame and large window panes. The light in the conservatory remained off. That’s odd, he thought, there’s moonlight … so why is the conservatory so dark?

  ‘Take your time.’ Eden sounded surprisingly calm. ‘Think before you shoot. Choose a vulnerable spot.’

  Eden Taylor was a remarkable girl. No clinging to him, no hysterics. With absolute calm, she gave him emotional support and strength with her carefully chosen words.

  Warily … slowly … he moved towards the strangely dark conservatory. Bright moonlight should be cascading through the glass roof. Why isn’t there any moonlight? Why is it so dark in there? Already, he found himself picturing a huge beast springing from the shadows to tear him apart.

  Gripping the shotgun even tighter, he stepped through the arch into the conservatory. So dark in here … no light at all. It’s almost as if the house has sunk underground. Total silence. Nobody spoke. The tension in his body rose, his muscles quivered. Any moment now he expected an explosion of movement as the monster attacked.

  Light … I need light. Gripping the shotgun in one hand, he used the other to flick the switch.

  The light blazed. That was when he saw that the monster was closer than he expected. In fact, it was directly above him. Now he knew why it had been so dark. The creature lay on the conservatory roof, covering the glass panels, which in turn prevented moonlight from entering the room. The thing did not move … but what kind of animal was it? Owen made out its massive bulk – a whale of a thing up there on the glass roof.

  What nailed his attention were the faces. A dozen or more people gazed down. Like kids mischievously pressing their faces to window panes, these individuals forced their faces against the glass. The pressure deformed their features, pushing noses to one side and distorting mouths. All of them stared down at where he stood directly beneath them.

  At first, it was like looking into the eyes of corpses – the gaze of each individual seemed out of focus and fixed; the eyes didn’t move. A moment later, however, a strange, evil light appeared in their eyes. They burned with hatred. Their naked ferocity made his blood run cold.

  Then the madness erupted. Kit and Jez yelled at him to run.

  A clearer voice rang out over the yells. This was Eden. ‘Now’s your chance, Owen.’

  He raised the shotgun until it pointed directly upwards – then squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, three times. Those explosions were deafening. The pump-action weapon fired clusters of lead pellets at hundreds of miles per hour. Above him, the glass shattered.

  The human heads seemed to be connected to the same nervous system. They all recoiled in the same way at the same time. They all opened their mouths and screamed together – a synchronized chorus of rage and pain.

  ‘I recognize some of them!’ Owen shouted. These were men and women from the nearby village; he’d seen them many times before as they went about their ordinary, day-to-day lives. Now they were anything but ordinary. ‘Some of those people were on the bus that crashed.’

  Jez seemed dazed. ‘We know what got them … it was nothing to do with me.’

  Kit always reached conclusions faster than anyone else. ‘Whatever that animal is, it uses people. It’s recycled body parts into itself.’

  The heads that Owen Westonby had blasted with the shotgun were floppy, almost boneless things now. Like the deflated udder sacks of a cow that had just been milked. Other ‘live’ heads hissed with fury. They glared down at their prey.

  That was when the monster went to work. Human arms sprouted from the creature’s flesh. They reached down through the holes that Owen had blasted in the glass, and then those dead-looking hands began to rip at the frame and what remained of the window panes.

  Owen chambered another round. ‘We’re not going to stop it getting in!’ He pointed the muzzle upwards. ‘Run!’ He fired the last shell, exploding a head. All that remained of the head was something like a white finger pointing down at them from the monster’s body. This white ‘finger’ must have been what remained of the spinal column that connected the head to the creature.

  ‘Time to go!’ Owen pushed the others from the room. ‘Run! Get out of the house!’

  Everything happened in a blur. Soon they were running across a meadow. The moon shone down with a hard, cold brilliance. Witch fire, a light as cold as death.

  ‘Here it comes,’ Owen panted. ‘It’s chasing us!’

  SIXTY-NINE

  When Tom answered his phone in the living room at Skanderberg cottage he saw his brother’s name on-screen, but a strange guttural panting filled his ear.

  ‘Owen?’

  The gasping continued.

  ‘Owen, is that you? Are you OK?’ Tom wondered if his brother was ill. ‘Owen?’

  ‘Tom! Jez was right!’

  June noticed the expression on Tom’s face. She rose from the armchair.

  Tom tried to make himself heard. ‘Owen. I can’t make out what you’re saying.’

  ‘Tom! We’re heading to your house!’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘We’re being followed … chased!’

  ‘Who by?’

  ‘Jez was right! He drove the truck into an animal! It was at Jez’s farm. We’re heading for your cottage. It’s following. I don’t know …’

  The gasping sound filled Tom’s ear. After that, the phone suddenly went dead.

  ‘Stay here,’ he told June. ‘My brother’s in trouble.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Helsvir. He’s being chased by Helsvir.’

  Tom grabbed his fleece, his gloves, a flashlight, and then went to the store cupboard to find his old harpoon gun. It was the only weapon he had. Though against the monster known as Helsvir, just how effective would a spear be?

  ‘June. Lock the door behind me. I’ll be as fast as I can.’

  ‘I can come with you?’

  ‘Stay with your mother. Don’t open the door to anyone but me.’

  Seconds later, he headed away from the house, the flashlight in one hand, the harpoon gun in the other. Behind him, June Valko locked the door. Ahead, the forest lay bathed in moonlight. A wilderness of a hundred thousand trees. And somewhere out there Owen and his friends were running for their lives.

  SEVENTY

  At the same time that Tom headed through the forest, armed with a harpoon gun, Owen was running for his life. He still carried the pump-action shotgun which he’d used to blast the creature back at the farmhouse. With him were Eden, Jez and Kit. Their eyes were huge with shock. Sheer terror drove them to run as fast as they humanly could. Moonlight glinted on the snow-covered field. A scarecrow wearing a cowboy hat appeared to point the way, as if somehow the lone straw man understood the dreadful danger the four faced. Ahead lay the forest.

  And behind them?

  Behind them, a creature followed. A monster. An ugly beast that appeared to be formed from human body parts. Naked human legs by the dozen carried it across the frozen ground. Human heads bulged from its flanks. This horror moved with marvellous grace. All those legs moving with a rippling flow – a centipede way of locomotion. The creature, which was as big as a whale, glided through the moonlight. What was more, it glided fast, very fast.

  Kit struggled to catch his breath; first-aid dressings hung from his face where the tape had come unstuck from the gunshot wounds. Even so, he yelled in triumph, ‘See! It’s real! You believe me now …’

  ‘Keep running!’ Jez shouted. ‘Whate
ver you do, don’t let it catch you!’

  Jez didn’t need to say any more than that. They’d all recognized faces that bulged from the monster. Somehow it had torn apart passengers from the crashed bus. Now those victims were part of the monster; their flesh had merged with that gargantuan body.

  ‘We could split up,’ Jez suggested as they reached a fence. ‘It can’t chase all of us.’

  Eden shook her head. ‘Stick together. We might have to stand and fight that thing.’

  ‘Eden’s right.’ Owen helped Jez over the fence; the guy’s broken arm made it difficult for him to climb. ‘If we split up, it’ll pick us off one by one.’

  They continued towards the trees, their shoes exploding clumps of snow.

  Eden panted, ‘You got through to your brother? What did he say?’

  ‘I told him we were heading for his cottage … and that we were being chased.’

  Kit groaned. ‘I can’t run any further.’

  ‘You’ve got to.’ Eden grabbed his arm. ‘Focus on running. Don’t think of anything else.’

  The creature had reached the fence they’d climbed over just seconds ago. The monster blasted through. The violence of the impact was staggering. Pieces of timber rained down on to the field. One post even shot over their heads to crash down into the forest. This powerful example of the animal’s ferocity gave Kit a boost of energy. He suddenly ran faster. No doubt in his mind’s eye, he saw what would happen to his own body if the creature slammed into him.

  Owen realized he was still carrying the shotgun. He almost tossed it aside; its extra weight would only tire him faster. But then he had an idea. Pausing, he aimed at the beast, squeezed the trigger and … click! Damn it, out of ammo. I fired the last shot back at the house.

  They were now twenty paces or so from the forest. His brother’s cottage lay maybe ten minutes away … that is, if they weren’t caught. Glancing back, he saw the creature racing towards them. This thing hunted with the tenacity of a man-eating shark. Its sheer speed flung up snow and dirt, sprays of black and white. And he could hear the sound it made: those strange corpse-like faces were whispering – as if eagerly discussing how they would hurt the four young people they pursued.