Hybrid (Book 2): Hunted

by Stead, Nick

  I continued on my hunt for suitable prey to feed my rage, yet still the sense of being followed persisted. The rage left no room for uneasiness, otherwise I might have turned back and returned to the safer moorland. But as it was, only Death would stop me from taking my next victim. So I pressed on.

  Prowling through man’s concrete jungle, I finally heard the sound of someone approaching. Her footsteps sounded more regular than the drunken swaying of the clubbers I’d encountered staggering from place to place, and I knew she would be mine. Besides, the bloodlust and the hunger couldn’t wait any longer. I was quickly losing my self-control and I knew if I didn’t feed my desires soon, I’d lose all sense of caution, and that could potentially lead to my doom. The feeling of being followed was swept away as the world narrowed down to me and my next victim.

  I stalked towards my prey, my face twisted into a snarl, bestial and inhuman, teeth and nails lengthening to become fangs and claws. Minutes later she was within sight. She was blonde, medium height, and fairly skinny. I didn’t care about the lack of meat though; I just wanted to kill. She wasn’t particularly attractive, and I wouldn’t have spared her a second glance had I been human, but to the monster I’d become she was no more than flesh and blood to brutally savage, and eventually feed on.

  There was something else about the woman my crazed thoughts barely registered. The glint of metal from her belt in the dim streetlights revealed a partially concealed weapon, a knife of some description, and there was the crackle of a walkie-talkie, both of which marked her as a Slayer. I couldn’t see a gun and I didn’t recognise the smell of gunpowder, but she no doubt had one somewhere about her person, maybe hidden under her jacket. I let this knowledge fuel my rage to new heights. They’d given me plenty of reason to hate them in my relatively short time as a werewolf, and it was easy to blame them, in part, for the loss of my human life I now mourned so deeply. If they hadn’t been hunting the werewolf that bit me that fateful night maybe our paths wouldn’t have crossed, or he wouldn’t have been driven into seeking me out in a desperate attempt to keep the curse alive, so it wouldn’t die with him. Of course, if the Slayers hadn’t been keeping our numbers in check there was every chance I would have been bitten anyway, and the world might have been very different to the one we know, but I chose to ignore that fact. I wanted to believe that my lupine half would have remained dormant if only we weren’t so near to extinction, if only we’d numbered enough that there was no real need to create any more of us. And even if I had still been turned, if it weren’t for the threat of the Slayers maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave my old life behind. Knowing they would happily go through my family and friends to get to me had been part of the reason why I felt I could no longer be part of the human world, and I’d sacrificed everything in the hopes those closest to me would remain safe. Yes, I had every reason to hate them, and that made this woman the perfect target to unleash my fury on.

  My face was hidden in enough shadow that the woman didn’t instantly recognise me, and by the time she did it was too late for her to draw a weapon or call for backup. I pounced on her with all my inhuman speed and strength, the weakness and fatigue I’d been feeling swept away by the bloodlust, anger making my limbs burn with a new, if only temporary, strength.

  I could’ve killed her quickly but only violent deaths would feed the bloodlust, and I was keen to obey it, intent on keeping the emptiness at bay for as long as possible. Pinning her down, I forced open her jaws and ripped out her tongue before she could call for help, her blood gushing down the back of her throat and spilling out over my hands and onto the pavement. Suddenly finding herself choking on her own blood, she wouldn’t even be able to form the most basic, wordless screams of agony.

  Most people would’ve been too lost in pain and shock to put up much of a fight after so brutal an attack, but this woman was tough and it was easy to see why she’d volunteered to take an active part in the Slayers’ ‘defences’ against us. Despite the throbbing pain she must be battling with, she still had the sense to reach for her weapons. But I was already aware of her hands scrabbling at her waist and with my supernatural powers she never stood a chance. I smashed the bones from her wrist all the way to her fingertips on both sides until they were utterly useless, and then, in a fit of rage, proceeded to grab her head by her hair and smash it into the concrete until blood and brains oozed out. Even though she was dead I continued to savage her body, ripping her torso open with my bare hands and lowering my face to the bloody hole, still human in form except for my fangs and claws. I ate her organs to replenish my strength, each one slippery and oozing fresh blood and other juices, dribbling down my chin and staining my skin and the stolen clothes. When I was done feasting on the organs I gnawed at her limbs, stripping them down to the bone. Her tongue lay by her body like a slug with a bloody trail, and I ate that too. Then the walkie-talkie crackled to life again and I crushed it.

  Finally I rose from the bloody mess I’d left on the pavement, anger blazing in my eyes which I instinctively knew had turned amber once more, despite having been unaware of the pain that accompanied any part of the change I underwent. I didn’t know how long it would take for more Slayers to come looking for her, but with my energy restored and still in the grip of the bloodlust I felt invincible, stalking off at a leisurely pace.

  The sensible thing would have been to return to Lady Sarah after feeding, but I didn’t want to face her again that night. So I deliberately remained in the city, wandering the streets and embracing my reawakened rage for as long as it lasted. I still wanted to transform now I’d fed and enjoy the feeling of my body growing stronger and more powerful, developing into a killing machine, all the more dangerous for the fury that powered it. But even with the full moon still overhead, something held me back, keeping me in human form and the human part of my mind in control, at least for the time being. It wasn’t for fear of being sighted by anyone, Slayer or otherwise, since anyone close enough would instantly notice the blood soaked clothes I still wore, identifying me as the monster I was.

  The shirt which had already felt strange and uncomfortable now stuck wetly to my skin. I considered ditching the clothes, but as with the desire to transform something held me back. Maybe I liked my prey to be mostly unsuspecting, subconsciously aware that something was amiss yet not quite grasping it until I drew too close. If I looked too much of an outsider, which I obviously would wandering around naked or partially transformed, I’d lose that. Though in wolf form I could potentially have passed for a large stray dog, so perhaps that wasn’t quite it either. I didn’t really know my own mind that night or why I was choosing one decision over another, and looking back now I still don’t have any answers.

  That sense of being followed only grew stronger the longer I walked the streets, until I finally heard the footfalls of some human foolish enough to tail behind. My rage blazed in response, expecting to find another Slayer trying to take me by surprise, and I spun round to face them, fangs bared in a snarl.

  “Woah wolf boy, take it easy,” Luke said.

  “Tell me again why I shouldn’t just kill you. How do you even keep finding me?”

  “You’re not a happy wolf, I can see that. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, ignoring my question.

  “No,” I growled, turning my back on him and resuming my hunt for more victims to feed my rage.

  The human ran to catch me up and fell into step beside me. “Let’s talk about other stuff then. I don’t even know your name yet!”

  “Nick,” I grunted, without looking at him. In my current state of mind he was an annoyance, one I was sorely tempted to obliterate. And yet, again, something held me back.

  “That’s cool, do you have a wolf name as well?”

  “No.”

  “You should call yourself Darkfang or something. That would be a cool werewolf name. Or not!” he added, when I glared at him.

  “I need to kill again. If you won’t leave me in peace then at least be quiet
and stay out of the way, or I will make you my next victim.”

  Luke took the hint and fell silent, but I could tell his curiosity was far from satiated.

  I killed twice more in the early hours, though the third murder was less savage than the other two, and to my dismay the fires of my anger had already begun to die down. I continued to wander the streets with Luke by my side, keeping my thoughts on how Lady Sarah had let the Elder vampire torment me and accuse me, and trying to focus my anger towards the both of them, as well as my similar dark feelings towards the Slayers. But it wasn’t enough to reignite my rage.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk, dude?” Luke asked. “You seem even more troubled than that night in the pub.”

  Still unsure whether to trust him, I didn’t reply straight away. I couldn’t deny the need for a friend, and so it was I found myself finally opening up to him, my latest problems breaking free of the dam I’d tried to wall them behind and gushing out.

  “Have you ever been betrayed by someone you thought you could count on?”

  “Yes,” he said simply, waiting for me to go on.

  “I don’t know how much you know, or how it is you could possibly know about the Slayers. Unless you’re one of them, but then, why would you be letting me kill without trying to intervene?”

  “Relax man, I’m not with them. Werewolves are awesome; I wouldn’t want to see you get killed by those misguided bastards.”

  Whether it was wise to confide in him or not, I couldn’t seem to stop myself once I’d started. I told him everything from the torment I’d suffered at the hands of my ‘fellow’ undead and how Lady Sarah hadn’t even tried to help me that night, to my struggles to adjust to my miserable existence trapped between the human world and the natural world. “The only good thing to come out of tonight was my rage being brought back to the surface, but now I can feel it slipping away again and without it I’m nothing. See what I meant by you don’t want this? I was always a fan of werewolves an’ all, but if I could go back to that night I was bitten and change things so I never crossed paths with the werewolf that turned me, I’d do it without a second thought.”

  “Hey, freak!” a boy shouted, interrupting us.

  A large group of school kids had appeared on the opposite side of the road, and I’d been so caught up in trying to explain things to Luke that I’d barely noticed. The boy who had shouted out couldn’t have been any older than twelve, but he was looking for a fight and, with all his mates around him, clearly he felt unbeatable. There were a couple of girls in the group he was no doubt looking to impress, or why else would he pick on someone nearly twice his height? Having suffered at the hands of bullies for most of my human years, there was little wonder why the Elder vampire had re-awoken my rage earlier that night, and I tried to embrace it once more to brandish against the insolent little kids stood facing me.

  “What did you call me?” I asked him with a snarl. Dawn was fast approaching which explained why the kids were out on the streets, though it was still a little early for them to be setting off for school. Common sense should have told me to flee the city before I lost the cover of darkness and the streets became alive with thousands of witnesses. Regular police officers didn’t worry me; even if they succeeded in locking me up, there was no normal cell that could hold me. However, I’d already seen evidence of the Slayers working within the police and other authorities and, even if they weren’t the ones to oversee my immediate capture, in all likelihood they would find a way to move me to one of their bases like back in my hometown, if they didn’t just kill me first. Common sense told me that was a likely outcome if I didn’t return to exile soon, but I was too desperate to rekindle my anger before the emptiness engulfed me once more, and these school bullies seemed my best hope at that point.

  “You starting on me now?” he challenged, strutting across the road as if he seriously thought he could beat me in a fair fight. There was a time when I might have found it funny, and I did laugh but there was no humour in it. If the kid had any brains he would have backed off at the harsh sound, but of course he didn’t, instead continuing to goad me. “Hey, where are your shoes, freak? And what’s all that spilt down you, weirdo?”

  “You started it, you little prick,” I said, ignoring his questions. “Now fuck off back to mummy and daddy before I send you home crying.”

  “Oh yeah? I’ll break your nose, dickhead,” he threatened.

  “Do you want a stepladder to do that or shall I kneel for you?” I sneered. I might not be the tallest of guys, but he really was that short. A few years can make a big difference in height at that age, after all.

  Clearly a good comeback was beyond him, since he tried to kick my feet out from under me. Presumably so he could reach my nose which he was so intent on breaking. Maybe he would have succeeded if I’d been human, especially if his friends joined in. But with all my supernatural power, even in human form, he would meet the same end as my other prey that night.

  I easily dodged the kick he had aimed at me, the group gawping as I moved faster than they knew should be physically possible. I grabbed him by his collar and threw him to the ground, where he came to a stop a few feet away. He hit the concrete hard and I smelt blood as the force ripped away layers of skin. He screamed and started to cry, his friends still stood in shock opposite us. As with any bullies they were cowards, unwilling to go to his aid now they knew they were no match for me.

  I pounced on top of my latest victim, pinning him to the ground. He shook and sobbed beneath me, pathetic now he was on the receiving end of pain. My teeth had elongated into fangs once more and I tried to be especially cruel to keep the anger alive for a while longer, but my heart wasn’t really in it anymore.

  “You’ve got balls kid,” I whispered in his ear. “Maybe I’ll rip them off.”

  His face turned paler and he screamed again, louder this time, while fear robbed him of control of his bladder. I forced another harsh laugh and rose off him as he wet himself, turning my gaze on the rest of the group. Some part of me continued to nag about the danger of lingering in the human world any longer, and again I thought of what would happen if hundreds of witnesses began to appear on the streets. I glanced at Luke who stood back, seemingly happy to watch me commit more murders. The kids were all focussed on me, perhaps having just enough brains not to goad a fully grown guy who was even taller than I was.

  “Do what you need to do,” he said quietly, so only I could hear.

  I hesitated, still aware of the dangers of being caught out on the streets. Aughtie had been conducting horrific experiments on any undead she’d captured alive back in my hometown. I was willing to bet there were plenty of facilities just like the one I’d briefly been imprisoned in. Maybe not every leader among them would agree with her methods, but there was enough fear and hate among their ranks that the majority would be quite happy to carry out such torture in the name of ‘science’. More likely it was revenge that drove them since they generally became Slayers following encounters with a member of the undead. And such encounters usually meant the death of someone close to them.

  So I was wrestling with some part of me that still cared about survival, or at least not meeting a particularly painful and bloody end at the hands of the Slayers, and the need to find a way to allow the tide of my bloodlust to wash over me once more, before the emptiness could re-open enough for me to fall back into it.

  Lizzy appeared beside the boy’s prone form. “Just walk away, Nick. You know killing him won’t bring you any enjoyment now the rage has died back down. Just walk away this time.”

  It was at that point one of the girls found the courage to shout out to me, but she made no move to help the pathetic boy still sobbing and whimpering at my feet.

  “Oh my God, what’s wrong with you?” she said. “He never even did anything.”

  That should have been enough to feed the rage. How could she defend him when he’d started it? He was the one who’d provoked me. He’d been t
he one to physically lash out first. And I’d spared him his life, what more did she want? He’d been lucky not to encounter me a few hours earlier, when I wouldn’t have wasted time with threats, simply acting on my darkest desires to rip and tear the entire group apart.

  “How old are you?” she continued.

  “Nearly seventeen,” I growled as I turned to face her, which was true, even if I hadn’t aged physically at all since being bitten the previous year. “Why, what’s it to you? Are you into older lads?”

  She knew something was very wrong, even if she didn’t really understand what was happening, yet still she wouldn’t just walk away, and the rest of the group seemed frozen in place. Light was just starting to spill onto the street. I was still in shadow but soon they’d clearly see exactly what was staining my clothes and skin.

  “I think you should grow up,” she said, trying to put on a brave face even though her doubts and her fear were evident.

  “Mouthy little gits, take your friend and go before I tear out your tongues.” I wished I felt the anger I tried to maintain in my words.

  “Go on bro, it’ll make you feel better,” Luke whispered.

  “Not helping,” I growled at him, while Lizzy continued to play the role of my conscience and I still struggled with conflicting thoughts of survival versus more bloodshed.

  “Freak,” the girl shouted again, but she finally ran over to help the boy up and they fled. I watched them go. Despite my best efforts my rage had left me. My anger had burnt out again and my bloodlust was but a distant memory.

  “I have to go,” I told Luke.