Lycanthropic (Book 1): Wolf Blood

by Morris, Steve

  Vijay sat quietly at his desk near the front and hoped a teacher would come soon.

  ‘Hey, Singh,’ came a voice from behind. It was Drake Cooper. Vijay sat rigid, afraid to do the wrong thing.

  ‘We’re talking to you,’ said another voice. Ash Brown came to lean against his desk. He jostled the desk, making Vijay’s pencil roll onto the floor.

  Vijay didn’t dare stoop down to pick it up. ‘Get lost,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘Mr Harvey will be here any moment.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Ash. ‘Know what I think? I reckon he’s been eaten!’

  He jumped at Vijay, his teeth bared, his fingers curled in a comic-book imitation of a monster. Vijay leaped out of his chair in fright. The girls behind him laughed raucously.

  ‘Or perhaps not,’ continued Ash, ‘Perhaps he’s busy eating some kids himself right now. Yum, yum, tasty little kiddies, all chewy and fat.’

  ‘What do you want?’ Vijay demanded, trying to sound strong, trying to look Ash in the eye.

  A hand reached out from behind and grabbed hold of his school bag. ‘We want whatever you got in here,’ said Drake. ‘Let’s take a look, yeah?’

  Vijay turned and tried to grab hold of the bag, but Drake dodged away. When Vijay stood to go after him, Drake tossed the bag over his head to Ash.

  Ash unzipped it and emptied the contents onto the floor. ‘Just boring books in here,’ he said, looking at the pile of school books and stationery that had spilled out. ‘Where do you keep your money? In your pocket, I expect.’

  ‘I don’t have any,’ said Vijay defiantly.

  ‘Someone’s telling fibs,’ said Drake. ‘Come on, hand it over.’

  ‘Or else we’ll pull your turban off,’ said Ash.

  ‘No!’ Something snapped in Vijay. It was like Rose Hallibury had said. If he didn’t make a stand now it would just get worse. He glanced across the classroom and saw Rose’s bright green eyes watching him closely. She nodded at him encouragingly, her ginger curls bouncing on her freckled forehead. Vijay turned to face his tormentors. ‘No,’ he said again.

  ‘What did you say?’ demanded Drake.

  Vijay faced Drake squarely. He realized that Drake was suddenly afraid – he was afraid of losing face in front of the class. ‘I said no. You can’t have my money.’

  Holly Brady and some of the other girls laughed again. Vijay wished they would shut up. He saw something change in Drake’s expression. The girls’ laughter had put his reputation on the line. Drake nodded at Ash, his mouth straightening into a grim line of resolve.

  Vijay felt Ash shove him from behind, and spun round to face him, raising his arm protectively. He looked Ash in the eyes and said, ‘Stop that.’

  Ash shoved him again and tried to grab the cloth binding of his turban. Vijay repeated what he had said before. Ash looked to Drake for some support. The girls had stopped laughing and were watching intently.

  ‘You’re going to give us your money right now, or else,’ said Drake.

  ‘No,’ Vijay repeated. He wasn’t going to fall into the trap of asking what Drake meant by else. The classroom had fallen completely silent.

  ‘Well, then, we’re gonna have to take it from you.’ Drake made a grab for Vijay’s jacket. Vijay raised his arms defensively again, but this time Ash punched him from behind. Vijay felt a sharp jab of pain, but shrugged it off. He turned to face both boys and held his arms in front of his chest, blocking against any more blows. ‘Hit him again, Ash!’ shouted Drake, but before Ash could comply, the classroom door banged open and Mr Johnson the sports teacher strode in.

  ‘What the bloody hell is going on here?’ he demanded.

  Drake and Ash jumped clear of Vijay like they’d been burned.

  Mr Johnson glared at the room of silent children. Nobody said a word. ‘I asked a question,’ said Mr Johnson.

  ‘Please, Sir,’ said Holly Brady, raising her hand. ‘Drake and Ash were fighting with Vijay.’

  ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ admitted Vijay. The other two scowled at him.

  ‘Vijay started it, Sir,’ said Ash in a high-pitched voice.

  ‘I doubt that very much,’ said Mr Johnson. ‘Frankly, neither do I care. All three of you, come with me to the Headmaster’s office at once. You can explain to the Head who did what, not that he will care much either, I expect.’

  He marched them along the corridor and down the stairs to the Headmaster’s office, Drake and Ash giving him angry looks as they went. Vijay felt humiliated. He had never been in trouble at school before. Mr Johnson should have understood the situation. It ought to be Drake and Ash dragged before the Head, not him as well. He couldn’t imagine what his parents would say when they found out.

  Mr Johnson rapped hard on the Headmaster’s door and stuck his head inside the office. He exchanged a few short words with Mr Canning the Headmaster, and then reappeared. ‘You first,’ he said to Ash. ‘You other two, wait outside quietly.’

  The Headmaster was a tall man with steel grey hair swept back from his high forehead. He wore a three-piece suit and a purple-and-gold tie. Vijay found him a forbidding man, and had always been a little scared of him. He dropped his gaze to the floor now under Mr Canning’s stern expression. The Headmaster’s shoes were polished like mirrors.

  Ash showed no such trepidation. He smirked as the Headmaster led him inside his office.

  The Headmaster’s eye held a strange yellow gleam. The door to his office closed behind him.

  Mr Johnson glared angrily one last time at Vijay and Drake, then strode away down the corridor.

  The two boys sat opposite each other on plastic chairs, Vijay fiddling nervously with his hands, Drake scowling at him. Vijay had never been summoned to the Headmaster’s office before and he had no idea what might happen now. Detention perhaps, or maybe worse. He might be suspended, or even expelled from the school. He felt sick with worry.

  Raised voices came from within the office. Through the thin wall, he could hear the Headmaster, Mr Canning, speaking angrily. Ash said something inaudible in reply.

  Opposite him, Drake tried to look nonchalant, but his confidence was clearly draining away rapidly.

  Vijay breathed deeply to calm himself. Mr Canning was known to be tough but fair-minded. He had lectured the school often enough about his zero-tolerance policy toward bullying. And Vijay hadn’t done anything wrong. He just had to tell Mr Canning exactly what had happened, and the Headmaster would surely take action against Drake and Ash. After all, Vijay was the victim. Now that it had come to this, he realized that he should have gone to see the Headmaster sooner. In retrospect the solution appeared obvious.

  A shout rang out from the other side of the office door followed by a loud crash.

  ‘What was that?’ demanded Drake, as if Vijay knew. It had sounded like furniture being broken, but surely …

  Another loud noise, like the splintering of wood, and a boy’s scream came from the other side of the door. A banging sound started up, and something crashed heavily against the wall.

  Drake shot to his feet. ‘What’s that? What’s happening? It sounds like Mr Canning is attacking Ash!’

  Another scream came from the room followed by a sickening thud. Then silence.

  Vijay remembered the yellow gleam he’d noticed in Mr Canning’s eyes. It was the same inhuman gaze that had so terrified him in his friend Thomas Murray. All the children and teachers who had returned to school after being sick had the same look. He thought again about Mr Leigh trying to eat the little kids on Halloween night. He remembered the students who had gone missing – Jamie Jones, Max Thompson and Lee Small. All three of them had disappeared after being sent to the Headmaster’s office. Suddenly he understood.

  Wet sounds came from inside the office, the sound of biting.

  Drake had turned as white as a ghost. ‘What was that noise? We have to go in and help Ash.’

  ‘No,’ said Vijay flatly. ‘Ash is already dead. The Headmaste
r is eating him now.’

  Drake stared at him, rigid with horror. He slowly sank back to the chair. ‘I don’t understand. What’s happening?’

  They sat in deathly silence, listening to the soft rending sounds coming from the office. Chewing, munching and slobbering noises followed. Drake spilled forward and vomited over his own shoes.

  In that moment, Vijay turned his back on fear. He no longer feared Mr Canning, or the monster that Vijay knew the Headmaster had become. He certainly did not fear what his parents would think when he told them what had happened. And as for the quivering boy sitting opposite, he felt only pity. ‘There’s no time to explain,’ he told Drake. ‘Either we run now, or we die.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Drake, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the closed door to the Headmaster’s office. ‘Where do we run?’

  ‘Anywhere,’ said Vijay, and together they ran.

  Chapter Twenty

  Greenfield Road, Brixton, South London, quarter moon

  James always did his best to be polite and make a good first impression. It cost nothing to smile, and get a new relationship off to a good start. But Adam Knight seemed to have different ideas.

  ‘Who the hell is this?’ he demanded, when Samuel brought James back to the house he shared with Adam and Leanna. Adam was a tall and intimidating man. He wore a tight vest, showing off well-muscled arms and a broad frame. He seemed to fill the narrow entrance hall, blocking their way into the house.

  Samuel didn’t seem to be put out by Adam’s attitude. ‘This is James,’ he said. ‘He’s a friend. He’s going to stay with me here for a while.’

  James cleared his throat nervously. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Samuel’s told me all about you.’

  Adam ignored him. ‘I don’t care what his name is, he can’t stay here.’

  ‘Yes he can,’ said Samuel coolly. ‘He has nowhere else to go.’

  ‘Not my problem, mate.’

  ‘He’s not safe on the streets alone, so he’s coming to stay with me. Now step aside.’

  Adam stayed exactly where he was. ‘We’re not a charity, Samuel. We don’t take in homeless werewolves.’

  ‘We look after our own kind,’ insisted Samuel.

  ‘Our kind ought to be strong enough to look after themselves.’

  ‘He’s staying, Adam, and that’s the end of this discussion.’

  Samuel pushed forward, and to James’ surprise, Adam backed off, letting them pass.

  ‘Leanna won’t be happy,’ he said.

  Samuel chuckled, allowing the rich, mellow sound to fill the hallway. ‘She never is.’

  Adam eyed James coldly as he passed him and headed upstairs to Samuel’s room.

  When they were inside, Samuel slammed the door shut and locked it. ‘Come here,’ he said, giving James a quick kiss on the lips. He jumped onto the bed and stretched out languidly, his arms folded behind his head. ‘Don’t worry about Adam. His bark’s worse than his bite.’

  James said nothing.

  ‘Hey, that was a joke,’ said Samuel with a grin. ‘Chill, man.’

  ‘Sure.’ James looked nervously around the room. It was about the same size as his bedroom back home. His parents’ home, that is. He wondered what they were thinking. They would have been so worried when he didn’t return home, especially when they heard about Father Mulcahy. He wondered how long it would be before the police connected him with the murder.

  Who was he kidding? They would have already made the connection.

  This was his home now. These four walls, and the one bed.

  Samuel seemed totally relaxed about everything. ‘And don’t worry about Leanna, either,’ he said. ‘At least, just keep out of her way for the time being. Once you’ve changed, she’ll be cool. Adam too.’

  The change would come soon, with the next full moon. Samuel had told him all about it. The full moon was just a few days away now, and James was becoming increasingly restless, drawn by the lunar pull. The same force that drew the ocean’s great tides was dragging him too, and he couldn’t resist. He didn’t want to resist, even though a part of him was slowly filling with dread at the prospect. ‘Tell me again how the change feels,’ he said.

  Samuel stretched out on the bed. ‘There’s no way to really describe it. The only way to understand it is to experience it for yourself. It affects everyone differently.’

  ‘Does it hurt?’ James asked, although it wasn’t pain that he really feared.

  ‘There’s some pain the first time, but not an unpleasant one. It’s a kind of fire that burns clean, if that makes any sense. It burns away all that you were, clearing a path for what you will become. There’s an intensity, for sure, but I’m not sure that pain is the right word. If there is pain, it’s a necessary one.’

  James nodded. He understood that. His faith had prepared him for suffering in the name of good.

  ‘The light of the moon is magical,’ continued Samuel. ‘I mean, not literally magical. I’m a scientist, after all.’ He stopped and laughed again, his deep, infectious laughter rumbling in the way that James had grown to love so much. ‘During Stage Two of the condition, which is where you’re at now, your skin becomes hyper-sensitized, your eyes in a state of permanent dilation. That’s why it’s so painful to go out in bright sunlight, why you come to prefer the night. All that’s to prepare you for the change. The moonlight is the catalyst for the final transition. After the change, your eyes will go back almost to normal, and you won’t mind bright lights so much.’

  James nodded. That was good to know. He’d become increasingly sensitive to light since leaving the hospital. Even the dimmest electric lights now gave him a searing headache. Going outside in full sun would be impossible.

  ‘Of course, your skin will always be sensitive to moonlight. Every full moon, the change will come again, but it’s only painful the first time. Afterwards, it’s just like slipping back into a comfortable set of clothes.’

  It would be like a baptism. A moonlit baptism. He would immerse himself in its purifying silver rays, and it would burn away his sins, making him anew. Afterwards he would be like Samuel himself, and Leanna, and Adam. He would be one with them. ‘How did it feel afterwards?’ he asked Samuel. ‘I mean, how does it feel now, compared with before?’

  Samuel cocked his head to one side, reflecting on that before answering. ‘I feel bigger, stronger, more enriched. I’ve always been an optimist, someone who sees the good in everyone, but the change has amplified that in me. I love the world more than ever. It’s like a kind of heavenly light is shining over all of creation and I’m the only one who can see it. You’ll probably understand that.’ He laughed again, a warm, inclusive laugh. ‘But everyone changes differently. Leanna has become cold. She was always a quiet one, an introvert, a big thinker. The change has amplified all that. It’s made her cunning too. You can’t trust her anymore. She says one thing, but you don’t know what she’s really thinking. Adam’s different again. He’s always been a very competitive sportsman, pushing himself with his training, always desperate to win. Now his need to win has become a physical hunger. There’s no other way to describe it. If he comes second, he rages and sulks. I believe he has the power to achieve almost any ambition he holds. They’re both pretty scary, really, Leanna and Adam. Not like cuddly old me.’

  ‘So it sounds like the change exaggerates whatever qualities you already have?’

  ‘I guess so. Amplifies them ten times, like you’ve been born into the world a second time. And of course it makes you physically strong. Stronger than you can possibly imagine.’

  ‘I already feel strong,’ said James. Despite his photo-sensitivity and the headaches, despite the weakness in his aching body, he felt an inner core of steel.

  ‘Sure, but what you feel now is just a shadow of what will come.’

  James walked over to the bed and sat down next to Samuel. ‘I want you to be with me when the change comes. I don’t want to be alone.’

  Samuel grinned broadly a
nd reached out his hands to grasp James’. ‘Don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Manor Road, South London, quarter moon

  Chris Crohn finished his day’s work at Manor Road Secondary School at four o’clock sharp and left immediately. Nothing interesting ever happened at school. Today’s highlights had been resetting Miss Jones’ forgotten password, and deleting some unauthorized software that Mr Johnson the sports teacher had downloaded from the internet, much to the man’s annoyance.

  But it could have been worse. At least Chris was the tech support guy and not a teacher. Trying to teach anything to those dumb kids really would have been unbearable.

  Back in the cramped quarters of his apartment in Manor Road, he fired up his werewolf tracking app and settled down for some real work. To his surprise and delight he found that today the usual social media tittle-tattle was eclipsed by real werewolf action. A news article from an authoritative source. Even Seth would have to pay attention to this.

  Chris read the story with a growing sense of satisfaction. Priest Brutally Murdered in Own Church, screamed the sensational headline of the article, before describing as many details of the violent killing as were known. The body of a Catholic priest, Father Mulcahy, had been found in the confessional of his parish church. Or at least what remained of the body. The man had been the victim of a frenzied attack and the body was covered in bite marks. Human bite marks.

  Chris rubbed his hands with glee before sending Seth a link to the story, adding the footnote, ‘First official victim of werewolf killing.’

  Of course, there was no mention of werewolves in the article, so it wasn’t really official. Instead the police were remaining open-minded about the motive for the attack, and were appealing for information from the public. In particular, they wished to interview a teenager named James Beaumont who was the last person to see the priest alive, and who had apparently gone missing afterwards. The police believed that the witness may have crucial information about the crime, and appealed for him to come forward so that they could eliminate him from their enquiries. At this point in the investigation they did not wish to comment on the nature of the murder weapon, and asked the public not to jump to any conclusions.