by Nick Stead
I reined my anger back in as soon as the exit began to present itself. 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 as I’d tried to force it open, and I needed to proceed with caution once more. No scents or sounds had carried through the stone, giving me no chance to prepare for whatever danger awaited outside the chamber I’d been imprisoned in.
The dull throb of broken bone became more noticeable without the rage to drown it out but I was lucky it was only my left hand I’d fractured, which meant I’d still have my main hand to fight with. I tried to ignore it as best I could while I waited for the panel to slide up high enough for me to squeeze under, painfully slow as it was. Then the stench hit me like a physical force, causing me to reel backwards in shock, and moments later light flooded in. Under normal circumstances it would have been dim, but after such complete blackness it was blindingly bright and my eyes automatically squinted shut. The two combined were overpowering, sending my mind into disarray. A cacophony of conflicting instincts screamed at me, only one clear thought burning brightly in my confused brain: 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 from wherever the Slayers had brought me. I’d only found a way out of the chamber I’d been sealed in by luck and 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 my hold over my own faculties, but no manner of calming techniques would bring my heartrate down to its normal rhythm. So I forced myself to creep cautiously into the passage connecting my initial prison to whatever lay up ahead, feeling I had no option but to manage as best I could under the influence of the fear which refused to release its icy claws from the grip they had me in. There was only one direction for me to go, the tunnel stretching straight and narrow for as far as I could make out.
My confusion grew as I pushed apprehensively onwards, which only added to the sense of unease. Once my eyes had adjusted to the light, I could see the walls were indeed carved out of stone and the dim light was coming from torches burning in their brackets. Though on closer inspection they turned out to be electric lights 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, but that wasn’t the scent to call to my most primal survival instincts. I’d been around rotting corpses often enough since becoming a werewolf and it wasn’t the same foul smell to my nose as it was to humans, since the lupine side to me considered them to be food when no fresh kills were available. 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 broke through the initial panic it had sent me into.
Adrenalin continued to pump round my system, using more valuable energy I’d have trouble replacing in my current surroundings, though it did help dull the pain of my hand. I tried to remind myself I was one of the monsters that belonged in this kind of dungeon type place, and that I had nothing to fear from whatever else might be lurking in the corridors. But I knew all too well that 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 focussed 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, and I still couldn’t detect any sounds to indicate the presence of other creatures over my own soft footfalls, 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 that 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 when the Slayers had already had me at their mercy and could have just killed me then, but humans weren’t the only race that wanted me dead. Aside from whatever the creature my nose detected was, if they’d imprisoned any other undead in here with me I had to remind myself of the possibility that 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 the vampires were aware I was now missing it probably only strengthened their conviction I was to blame.
Thirst gripped me almost as strongly as that state of terror I found myself trapped in. I was soon hoping to happen across even the faintest of leaks trickling through from the world above, and tried to focus my senses on finding any signs of fresh water as well as potential dangers. But the further I stalked down the tunnel with not so much as a glimpse of a damp patch along the dry rock face, the more I began to give up hope of finding even a mouthful of fluid to soothe my parched throat. Until a welcome sound finally reached my ears, just audible above the hammering of my own heart.
The sound of water dripping from the roof of the tunnel and splashing into the puddle collecting underneath grew steadily louder as I pressed on. My thoughts filled with the drink waiting for me and the blissful sensation of wetting my mouth and easing the discomfort that came with being so dehydrated. I could only hope there would be enough to keep me going for the potentially long hours ahead.
When finally I reached the source of the dripping, it was to be met with frustration and disappointment. 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 that even my sensitive nose, attuned to the smell of blood and raw flesh as it was, had been unable to detect that crimson fluid. Usually that would have been a scent to set my nostrils quivering and my mouth watering. The sight of it 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.
Beads of blood rolled down chunks of fresh meat which I could just make out hanging on hooks attached to chains presumably set into the stone ceiling overhead. I appeared to have reached 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, but there was a short, narrow passage branching off from the one I was in and leading into that chamber, limiting my view inside. Bars blocked off that side passage so I couldn’t simply walk into the room without forcing my way through, meaning I could only see the section of room immediately in front of me. And as if the bars weren’t enough to prevent me reaching the meat I would be craving as soon as I found water to quench my thirst, metal spikes lined the passage into the room, designed in such a way that stepping between them wasn’t an option. I would have to walk across the sharp points and endure the pain of them stabbing through my feet, which I wasn’t yet desperate enough to do for the bait left out to tempt me. So I drew away from the metal rods blocki
ng the entrance to that side room of both pleasure and pain and continued down the passage I was already in.
After creeping far enough along that the sound of dripping had receded and the room I’d started in had been swallowed by the shadows behind me, I came upon a new point of interest. Other than the side chamber, up until then there’d been nothing to see in the tunnel so far, its bare stone walls with their imitation flame torches set at regular intervals stretching on for as far as my eyes could see in the dull light. But then I found a hint of the modern age, a camera looking down, 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 down more of us, 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?
My nerves stretched tauter still, expecting an encounter with something to be imminent. But the corridor 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 was so focussed on what lay ahead, I never expected the attack to come from behind until it was too late.
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, hatred burning in the depths of eyes the colour of the oceans on a winter’s day. 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. I saw the hunger prowling behind his eyes, wrestling with the loathing he felt for my kind. I wasn’t the human he craved, even if I was in human form, 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 as a result of being weakened if he’d been captured and starved longer than I had. Either way, I hadn’t really expected the blow to land but I managed to slash open his face, gouging the flesh across both eyes. Blood ran down, blinding him. The vampire instinctively recoiled, 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, but he recovered quicker than I expected and lunged again. Moments later he had me pinned up against the wall with one hand wrapped round my throat. I dug the claws of my good hand into his pale skin but 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’d say anything to save yourself,” he retorted, though he did slacken his grip again so it seemed he could be reasoned with, at least.
He had a point, however. I didn’t even know if I could find a way to prove Leon was the real murderer to the other vampires, 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, talking made more painful by the hold he’d just had me in and my already dry throat. “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.
“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. 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 if this thing is still down here, then you might stand a chance of getting away.”
“Yes, I sense this thing you speak of. It’s not a creature I am familiar with but it does feel wrong, like it doesn’t belong in this world. You drive a hard bargain, wolf. I suppose we could be of help to each other, for now.”
The vampire released me, though he didn’t look entirely happy about it. For a moment I thought he might put me under his spell like Lady Sarah had done in the past, but either he didn’t consider me a threat or maybe it was too much effort while he was weakened. I still didn’t know much about how vampire powers worked.
I nodded gratefully to him. Now he was no longer trying to kill me, I had chance to take in more of how he looked. And there was no wonder those cold eyes had put me in mind of the ocean, given the image I was presented with. From the black bandana on his head to the long black coat over a white shirt and what looked to be a cutlass at his hip, there was no mistaking the life he’d led as a mortal. He wore a second belt diagonally across his chest which held two flintlock pistols, and what I assumed was extra ammunition in a couple of pouches: something that surprised me as most vampires seemed to be against firearms. His hair was hidden beneath the bandana but his beard was dark brown.
If the split still existed in my mind between human and wolf, the human part of me would’ve wanted answers from this new vampire, while the wolf would’ve been fighting to take control and obey our survival instincts which the human me had never paid enough attention to. But we no longer had that split, that
conflict between the two sides to my nature. A part of me still burned with questions like who the vampire was and how long had he been down here, or even where did he come from and how had he come to be here in the first place? Anything that could tell me more about where we were and what the Slayers might be planning. I also thought it strange that the Slayers hadn’t disarmed him when they’d taken him captive, though the answer to that was probably one only they would know. Unless they hadn’t deemed it necessary when he had plenty of other weapons gifted to him through vampirism, making him just as dangerous with or without the killing tools of mortals.
But without the divide in my mind my instincts were too strong to ignore and they were still screaming at me to run from the unseen threat that had me so panicked, ever since the scent had first reached my nostrils. Much as I wanted to know more about the vampire, I couldn’t stay put to find out his story. We needed to keep looking for a way out before whatever nightmare we were both sensing found us. Maybe there’d be chance to talk while we searched for an exit but my heightened sense of caution compelled me to move as quietly as possible, so I dropped my voice to a whisper.
“We should keep moving, before the creature we’re sensing appears. The last thing we want is to be cornered by it.”
“Assuming it’s still down here,” the vampire answered.
