Blood Moon

by Graeme Reynolds

  The doorman’s face creased into a frown and his eyes narrowed. “Steady on love. Just calm down and get your breath back. What have you taken? Coke? Pills?”

  Mandy shook her head. “I’ve not taken anything. You have to listen to me or everyone is going to die. Do you understand? There’s a massive fucking werewolf in the car park!”

  The bouncer appeared a little taken aback but quickly regained his composure. “Look, I don’t know if you’re trying to wind me up…”

  He never finished his sentence. A howl echoed around the building, the sound reflected from the unyielding concrete of the shopping centre until it seemed to surround them. It was answered by another, and another, and another from all around the town. A joyful lament that combined in a primal chorus, drowning out the sounds of drunken revelry from within the pub. The colour drained from the bouncer’s face and the smokers near the doorway looked up, eyes wide with terror.

  The doorman seemed convinced by this. “Inside. Get inside, all of you. Now!”

  Mandy needed no further encouragement and ducked beneath the man’s arm into the dark, cavernous interior of the Sandpiper. She felt her way along the cheap wallpaper, her eyes registering only vague outlines of doorways or the tacky wildlife pictures that adorned the walls. Then the front doorway slammed shut with the finality of a closing tomb, and what little ambient light there was disappeared, plunging her into absolute pitch darkness.

  She knew she should have felt safer once the door was closed and the bolts in place, but she didn’t. The darkness was all-encompassing and the urge to curl up on the floor was almost overwhelming. Maybe they won’t come. If I hide here, or lock myself in the toilets, then maybe I’ll be safe. The police will come soon. Or the army. I should just hide until they get here.

  The thoughts were seductive whispers in the back of her consciousness, born from terror and desperation. Her limbs felt numb, heavy. As if the nerves had died and she was hauling around lumps of dead meat instead of arms and legs. She knew that what she needed to do, above everything else, was get back to her dad and Ian. She didn’t know what she’d say to them, but being with family would at least provide her with a temporary refuge – an illusion of safety. And if the werewolves came, then at least she’d die with people that loved her. She willed her leaden legs into motion once more and felt her way along the wall, guided by the raucous laughter in the main bar area, until her hands found the heavy wooden door.

  A wave of heat and noise washed over her. People laughing, singing and drinking as if everything was normal. As if every single one of them was not in mortal danger. Mandy wanted to scream at them – make them understand – but instead she pushed her way into the room. One of the staff had the presence of mind to light some candles and position them along the bar. It meant that, along with the weak glow from the emergency exit lights, there was at least some illumination. The flickering light and dancing shadows were a stark contrast to the utter blackness she’d emerged from and, more importantly, it meant she had a chance of finding her family. She threaded her way through the room, desperately scanning the faces of the people she brushed past, hoping to find someone familiar, yet dreading the moment that she’d have to explain things to her dad.

  A hand fell on her shoulder, and she let out an involuntary shriek of alarm. She span around to find Anna regarding her with a look halfway between amusement and concern.

  “Where the hell did you piss off to? You missed the countdown? Is your mum still here? She looked really fucking mad.”

  Mandy’s throat constricted and she struggled to force the words out. “My mum… Mum… she’s dead… she…”

  Anna gave her a playful punch on the shoulder. “Piss off, Mandy. That’s not a nice thing to say, even as a joke.”

  Mandy held up her blood-soaked hands. “Does this look like I’m joking? Listen, Anna. Get Kat and Amy then find me. I’ve got to find Dad and Ian. The fucking town’s full of werewolves, and they’re killing people.”

  Anna’s face fell and she took a step back from her friend. “Mandy… I… Is this for real?”

  Mandy grasped Anna’s shoulders, leaving bloody prints on the white fabric. “Anna. I mean it. We haven’t got much time. I need to find my dad.”

  Anna nodded her assent. “Okay. He was over by the DJ earlier. Maybe he’s still over that way. I’ll get the others and meet you there.”

  She watched Anna disappear into the crowd before pushing her way through the forest of bodies towards the DJ booth, doing her best to avoid the flailing arms and elbows of the revellers. Mandy was not a tall girl, and she struggled to fight off the crushing claustrophobia she felt as the sea of people closed around her. The crowd seemed to surge away from where she wanted to be, carrying her back towards the bar. She was never going to make it to the DJ booth in time to warn her dad. An idea flashed across her mind.

  Something Ian had told her about how he got through the crowds at festivals and concerts. She put her hand against her mouth and began making tortured retching noises.

  “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick… I’m going to be…”

  The crowd parted before her as if she were Moses standing before the Red Sea. Where there had been nothing but a seething, impenetrable mass of humanity a moment before, there was now a clear path forming as people frantically pushed themselves away from the obviously distressed girl. Within seconds she had cleared the dancefloor and stood before the DJ booth. Unfortunately there was no sign of either her father or Ian. A pungent cloud of marijuana smoke hung in the air above the console. Mandy peered around the corner to find her father and Ian passing a joint between them and the Ukrainian DJ.

  Her dad coughed when he noticed her there. “Oh, Mandy… I didn’t see you there… I was just… erm… I mean… this is Gary… your mum and I went to school with him and we were just… erm… your mother’s not there, is she?”

  Mandy threw her arms around her father and let the tears come in great, choking sobs. She felt her father’s strong arms around her. Holding her. Keeping her safe the way he had done when she was younger. It was an illusion of safety, but one she grasped and clung to for dear life. No one would be able to hurt her now she was with her daddy. He’d hold her and protect her from everything and everyone that meant to do her harm. Only that wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all. It was her turn to try and keep him safe. Save all of them. She pushed herself away and wiped her tear-streaked face on the sleeve of her top.

  Her father looked confused. “Steady on, Mand. What’s the matter? Did your mum go overboard about you being here?”

  Mandy shook her head and forced the words out through a throat that felt too small. “No… Dad… you… you need to listen to me. There was a man outside. He… attacked us. Mum’s… I mean… Mum is gone. He killed her with a knife.”

  Her father’s face fell as he processed what he’d just been told. He got to his feet and began to move out from behind the DJ booth. Mandy grabbed his arm with both hands.

  “Dad, where are you going?”

  “I need to get your mother. If she’s been hurt… she’s going to need help.”

  Mandy tightened her grip, and her voice rose to a yell. “Dad – you’re not listening to me. That man stabbed her and then a werewolf tore him to pieces. You could hear them howling outside. The bouncer locked all the doors before any got in.”

  He looked uncertain. “But… your mum. I need to…”

  Mandy threw her arms around her father again, letting the tears flow. “Dad, she’s gone. And if any of those things get in here, we’ll be next.”

  ***

  Anna pushed her way through the crowds, back to where Amy and Kat had been. Amy had pulled some bloke who, while a bit weird, had seemed cute enough. She’d just wished that Amy would stop calling him tastyface. You’d think she’d never snogged anyone before. Kat had not really recovered from her whitey earlier in the evening, and the drinks hadn’t helped. She’d been sick at least twice and, as predicted, her m
akeup had slithered off her face until she looked like a demented clown. She didn’t know what to think of Mandy’s story. Her friend had been a pain in the arse all night, but she wasn’t one to make something like that up for a joke, and the bloody handprints on her top lent credence to her story. If she discovered later that this really was some kind of wind up, she’d beat the shit out of Mandy – for ruining her top if nothing else. In the meantime, she decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, once the power had gone out, the bar had stopped serving drinks, so there really wasn’t much point in staying here. At least at home she wouldn’t have to contend with random blokes grabbing her arse in the darkness. The whole night had been a bit shit really, and Anna was ready to pull the plug on it. New Year’s Eve had been something of a letdown, all things considered.

  She pushed her way past two pissheads and was not in the least surprised to find Amy locked in a passionate embrace with the bloke. Anna struggled to remember his name – Matty? Was that it? Beyond his thick Glaswegian accent, she struggled to remember much about him at all. She tapped him on the shoulder and tried to prise the two of them apart.

  “Amy, put him down. I need to talk to you. Mandy’s gone off the deep end. She reckons towns full of werewolves.”

  Amy didn’t seem too inclined to listen to her, and the sucking, slurping noises coming from the pair of them was making her feel sick. She felt a surge of annoyance and shoved her hands between them, using all of her strength to separate Amy and Matty.

  Her hands were wet. Warm and sticky. She didn’t want to think about how much drool would have been needed to get their clothes that soggy. She turned Amy around and felt her heart lurch in her chest. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat. Where Amy’s pretty face had been, there was only a bloodstained skull. The bone had deep gouges carved into it and Amy’s beautiful blue eyes stared out of the gore at nothing. Her friend’s body stood on its own for a second, then fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Anna couldn’t help herself. She turned to Matty and was met by a visage from the depths of hell. The boy’s eyes were flat, reflective disks in the flickering candlelight. His face was distorted – the bone had stretched out into a snout filled with row upon row of razor sharp fangs. A mass of bloody flesh and muscle dangled from between those terrible jaws. They crunched once, then swallowed. Matty brought up a clawed hand and wiped his mouth. “Aye, she wasnae wrong. She did have a tasty face.”

  Anna’s voice returned and she let out a scream of abject horror. A scream that turned into a wet gurgle as Matty’s talons flashed out and slashed her throat open down to the bone.

  ***

  Kat felt a warm splash across her face and wrinkled her nose. When the power had gone out she’d been relieved. The flashing lights and pulsating music had done nothing to stop her head from spinning or to alleviate the persistent, bubbling nausea that had plagued her all night. She never should have taken Amy’s spliff. Her mouth felt gritty, her teeth coated with the acrid remnants of her evening meal and regurgitated alcohol. But, for the first time in hours, she was beginning to feel more like herself again. She’d try to persuade Mandy and Anna to take her home soon. The thought of her soft, clean bed brought a smile to her face. Then the warm spray continued and a terrible thought occurred to her. What if someone was taking a piss in the dark corner where she lay and simply hadn’t noticed her? Her eyes snapped open and she immediately wished they’d stayed closed.

  Anna slumped to her knees before her, her eyes wide and her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish out of water. Her hands were clasped to her throat and jets of thick, dark liquid sprayed out from between her fingers. Then Anna fell backwards into a pool of what could only be blood, beside Amy’s faceless corpse. The spurts of liquid became smaller and smaller, until they finally stopped altogether. Kat’s hand flew to her mouth as her stomach lurched. No, she thought. I can’t. God, Anna – Amy – I’m so sorry. Kat had thought that her previous bouts of illness had emptied her stomach. She was amazed to discover she’d been very wrong about that. A jet of alcohol and partly digested food erupted from her mouth, spraying the mutilated corpses of her friends with what looked like a thick, foul smelling vegetable broth. Kat fell to her knees, only vaguely registering the warm liquid oozing through her tights, and let out a strangled sob of misery. Then something approaching awareness leaked through the alcoholic haze clouding her mind. She looked up and saw something out of her worst nightmares.

  The boy that Amy had been getting off with was convulsing beside her. At first she thought he might have fallen prey to whatever had killed her friends. Then she noticed he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and that his body cracked and shifted as spasms racked him. She could hear the bones snapping and reforming. Even as drunk as she was, Kat knew exactly what was taking place before her. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, and for a second, she froze, caught between her fight or flight response. Unsurprisingly, flight won that particular battle incredibly quickly, and Kat scrambled to her feet, pushing her way through the crowds towards the heavy wooden doors that led to the exit.

  Kat could hear the cries of alarm from behind her as other people realised what was happening. Fear surged through the crowd, transmitting from person to person like a virus. The sounds of animal rage were clearly audible behind her now and the patrons of the Sandpiper charged towards the exit as one, pushing Kat forward like a surfer riding a wave. She slammed face first into the wooden doors at the far side of the dancefloor, tasting the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. There was no escaping the forward momentum of the panicked crowd, and she knew if she slipped she’d be trampled underfoot by two hundred and fifty people desperately trying to escape the monster in their midst. The exit was before them – the door closed. And something else. A pair of green eyes shone out from the blackness by the door and a guttural feral snarl echoed out. There was another creature guarding the exit to ensure no one escaped. Kat tried to push her way back through the surging mass of humanity – she cried out, pleading for them to turn around. Her cries were joined by those beside her who had seen the monster at the end of the corridor, but it was no good. They were forced forward towards the huge, snarling werewolf. Kat didn’t even see the attack. She just felt a sharp pain across her abdomen, followed by a horrible sensation of unravelling as her innards spilled from her stomach cavity onto the ground. The air stank of blood and shit. Worse; those behind began catching their feet in her guts, tripping over them, hastening the emptying of her.

  Don’t do that! I need those! She thought absently, the shock momentarily numbing her mind, the pain not yet properly registering. Then the strength left her legs and she was dragged down by her intestines to the forest of pounding feet behind her. Bodies slipped against her. A man stumbled, and as he put his hand out to arrest his fall, it vanished into the wet cavity of Kat’s stomach. She was beyond pain. Her breath wouldn’t come, and although she felt the urge to vomit again, she had no stomach. She opened her mouth to cry out for mercy – for someone to notice and save her from the terrible fate. Then a heavy, steel toe capped boot came down on her head, forcing the bone of her nose deep into her brain, and Kat, mercifully, knew no more.

  ***

  The Sandpiper erupted in chaos. People ran screaming from the horror stalking across the dancefloor towards them. The creature seemed to be in no rush, circling the outskirts of the panicked crowd in the same way a sheepdog would direct its flock. Anyone who came too close was mauled – legs torn out from underneath them with the beast’s savage claws and quickly shredded into bloody ribbons before the werewolf resumed its herding.

  Mandy crouched behind the DJ booth with her father, Ian and the famous Ukrainian DJ (whose real name was apparently Gary). Her father’s face was drawn and grey while Gary took a very long drag on the last remains of his joint and suppressed a cough before stubbing the roach out on the carpet. Ian’s eyes darted from left to right, the nervous tension visible in his every action. He leaned closer and whisper
ed, “We’ve got to get out of here. That thing’s going to slaughter everyone.”

  Mandy shook her head. “There are more of them outside. I heard them howling.”

  Her father rubbed her arm. “No, Ian’s right. Even if there are more outside, they’ll be going for the people in the market square. At least we’ll stand a chance. If we stay here, we’re dead.”

  Gary looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “Chelfyn, mate, I’m right there with you, but the fire escape is on the other side of the dancefloor and the front door’s a bit congested right now. How the fuck are we going to get past that thing? All the exits are blocked.”

  Mandy risked a glance over the top of the console, immediately regretting it. The werewolf had its jaws clamped around a young man’s throat and was shaking its head from side to side like a dog worrying a rag. The man’s screams were little more than a strangled gurgle, drowned out by the cries of terror from the other people in the pub. She dropped her head back down before the monster saw her, an idea forming. “If we can’t get through the exits, why don’t we make our own? Mate, how heavy is that record box?”

  Gary looked confused as he glanced at the aluminium flight case. “I don’t know? Heavy. It’s full of vinyl. 20 kilos maybe. Why?”

  Ian looked at his younger sister, grinned and kissed her on the forehead. “Plenty heavy enough to go through one of those windows, then? Dad, grab the other side of it. Gary, try and block that doorway up with some chairs or something. Anything to slow it down. It’ll be after us the second the glass goes.”

  Mandy helped Gary create a makeshift barricade with a trestle table propped up with a couple of wooden chairs. As barriers went, it was terrible. But it was the best they could manage under the circumstances. Ian and her father exchanged worried glances, then both bent to pick up the record box. A shadow fell over them, blotting out the candlelight. Mandy looked up and screamed as the werewolf crouched on top of the DJ booth and snarled. One huge taloned paw scraped against the record decks, while the other flexed against one of the mixers in anticipation. Mandy sensed the creature bunching its muscles for the attack. The monstrous beast growled, and hot, rank saliva sprayed Mandy’s face. She could see the bloodstained enamel daggers that would end her life; feel the rancid breath on her face. She wanted to close her eyes and look away, but couldn’t. Somehow the thought of waiting in darkness for those teeth to tear her flesh apart was worse than seeing it happen.