The Hybrid Series | Book 4 | Damned

by Stead, Nick

  With a roar of frustration, I tried swiping at another of the men. My claws passed right through him. Then the Slayers unleashed another burst of gunfire, their eyes fixed on a point in the passage somewhere above my head. Understanding dawned. We’d never been in any danger and they hadn’t been firing at us. This had to be the same kind of paranormal phenomenon people often encountered on historic battle sites, my enemies long dead and still locked in combat with whatever had killed them.

  There was another scream. I watched in the ghostly light as a bloody fountain burst forth, erupting from a man’s neck and gushing down until his clothes were sodden with it. The stone around him remained dry, though I thought I could see a faint stain there.

  Two more screams and two more ghosts relived their deaths. One fell to her knees, her hands pressed to a stab wound in her gut which appeared to just open up out of nowhere. The other’s head looked to be crushed by something, leaving only his lower jaw sitting on a grisly stump. I could see his tongue writhing between his teeth like a snake in its death throes as he collapsed to the ground.

  One by one they fell. With nothing to feed it, my rage began to fade as I stood there watching the grisly show. The whole thing probably lasted only a handful of minutes. Soon there were several phantom bodies twitching on the cave floor, gargling in their own blood and begging for help that would not come. Their eyes were wide with terror and a few hands reached out to their killer in a plea for mercy. I’d done things that were just as bad to my own victims, if not worse, and yet there was something harrowing about watching these trapped souls reliving the pain and the horror of their final moments. How many times had they fought this losing battle and died their agonising deaths? Maybe they deserved to be caught in this terrible loop, yet in spite of the hatred I’d developed for the human race, I found myself pitying them. For this was surely another kind of Hell I was witnessing.

  One of the Slayers turned on me without warning, his eyes locking on mine. I reacted on instinct but there was no time to completely avoid the bullet aimed my way, and again I felt the sensation of something cold pierce my flesh. The phantom ammunition passed through without doing any damage and I relaxed. He wasn’t a living Slayer disguised among the dead. I’d just happened to be standing where his enemy had been in this moment they were caught in.

  And what about the old man? He must have been a part of this spectral play too, I realised. Maybe he’d tried to warn someone of the dangers of this place, and the Slayers had mistaken him for one of the undead. Or maybe he’d been caught up in our war somehow. Whatever the reason, his story had to have ended here, on the day of this battle, for how else could he have been shot by the Slayer ghosts?

  Only when the last one died did their bodies vanish and the light wink out. There was a smell of carnage then. My hunger rose and my mouth watered. I tried feeling around in the darkness to make certain there were no actual bodies lying there, and found only stone. The scent of fresh death was no more than an after effect of the apparition, one that would no doubt fade after a while, just as the bodies had done.

  A new noise reached my ears: the wet sounds of tearing flesh and a set of jaws chewing hungrily. Then I heard more footfalls approaching, except these were made by something running on four legs rather than two. Again I thought back to the old man’s ghost. People have gone missing in here, he’d said. The place is haunted, he’d said. Clearly there was more here than him and the other ghosts I’d just witnessed. I had the sudden feeling the caves had been home to undead long before this battle had been fought, but home to what?

  Uncertain, I scented the air for a hint of what was down here with me, and whether they might be friend or foe. But all I could smell was death. Not just the phantom scent of fresh carnage, but the stench of decay, repulsive even to a werewolf’s nose. This was the odour of rotting corpses too far gone to offer any nutritional value. And it was getting thicker as the sound of the footfalls grew louder.

  A burst of laughter filled the tunnel and for a brief moment I was reminded of Gwyn, the Welsh spirit we’d met in David’s dungeon. But unlike my knocker friend, this laugh was eerie and distinctly lacking in any kind of mirth. Yet it didn’t quite seem to be a mocking laugh either. Was the creature merely mimicking the sounds of its human prey? Or was it a sign of intelligence? But if it was intelligent, was it smart enough to recognise me as its ally or did it see everything in its domain as prey?

  A growl of warning rose up from deep in my chest, hackles instinctively raised and fangs bared. There was still only the scent of death and no other clues as to what it might be, but it certainly wasn’t living. Nor did it smell like a vampire and I was fairly sure it wasn’t another ghost, not when the ones I’d just encountered had been odourless throughout the battle. Perhaps a ghoul?

  Whatever it was, it was closing in. I tensed and took up a defensive stance, ready for a real fight. But the attack never came. There was a rush of air as the creature passed by, then it scuttled into what sounded like another side tunnel we’d missed in the darkness. Its scampering grew increasingly distant, until silence fell once more.

  Relaxing, I made my way back to the waterfall and felt for the hole downwards again. It was time I re-joined the others before a real threat showed up. So I took a deep breath and climbed into the narrow opening feet first, then allowed myself to fall through.

  Water enveloped me in the chill of its liquid embrace. My feet jarred against hard rock but there was no damage from the impact, and I used it to propel myself back up to the surface of the pool. It wasn’t that deep, my muzzle sliding out of the water in less than a minute. Equally cool air wrapped around my sodden fur and shivers racked my body as I swam to the side and pulled myself out.

  I found another passage leading away from the small body of water and deeper into the hills. It was as damp as the cavern we’d started in but free of any streams running through it at least, and sure enough I could sense Selina sitting just inside. Lady Sarah and Zee lay behind her. Varin was also back, his eyes seeming to glow all the fiercer on her right, like two red warning lights.

  “Nick, is that you?” Selina asked.

  “It’s me,” I confirmed.

  “Thank God. The Slayers?”

  “Turns out they were already dead,” I said, shaking myself dry. Water droplets flew from my fur and splattered the others, yet the vampires stayed as still and apparently dead as ever. “Their ghosts appear to be stuck in some kind of loop reliving the battle that ended in their deaths, including the crazy old guy we saw when it started.”

  “No wonder my senses were clouded! Such strong emotional energy always messes with my connection to the spirit world. Varin came back only moments before you did. It didn’t take him long to pull Sarah and Zee out of the pool.”

  “So what now?”

  “I suggest we rest here till these two wake, then try to find our way out.”

  “Are you not hungry? You never had chance to eat your rabbit. And I could do with something after transforming again.”

  “I can wait. Better not to head deeper into the unknown while Sarah and Zee are asleep and vulnerable.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said, though my stomach gurgled a complaint. “The crazy old ghost might not have been so crazy after all – there is something else down here with us besides the apparitions. I couldn’t tell what it was but I’m guessing ghoul from the way I heard it eating and the smell of decay.”

  “It could be. They like the dark and the damp and I can’t imagine too many Slayers would bother it in here. If it’s just fed then we have nothing to fear from it, for today at least.”

  “Yeah, it didn’t make any move to attack when it passed by, but I’ll sleep easier knowing Varin’s watching over us.”

  I still hadn’t forgotten my last encounter with ghouls in David’s dungeon, when they’d been starved enough to attack me even after I’d taken my hybrid form, all pretence at an alliance swept away on a tide of hunger. And then there’d
been the night Ulfarr intended to execute me. As with the executions of old, the Elder vampire had made it a public affair, and there’d been a number of ghouls present in the crowd. I’d seen the hunger in their eyes. Like carrion crows they’d come not for justice, but for the promise of a feast once the sentence was carried out. That was all they’d cared about. The only meaning my death would have held would have been the free meal it offered. The thought brought forth a shudder which seemed at odds with my monstrous form, and I decided then I’d happily stay clear of the animalistic undead for as long as I lived.

  The scent of more death wafted along this new passage and I froze. I couldn’t hear any more sounds of movement but there was no way I was risking being caught unawares while we slept.

  “Stay here,” I growled in a low voice. “I’m going on a little way down this passage. It might be nothing but there’s a chance the ghoul might be back to trouble us after all.”

  “Then Varin will go with you.”

  “I can handle one on its own. Better to leave him here to guard you three just in case. If there’s more I’ll howl for back-up.”

  “As you wish.” She didn’t sound entirely happy with this decision either.

  I felt my way along the tunnel, following this new death smell. I didn’t have to go far to reach its source. Two corpses lay on the stone, their bones all but picked clean as far as I could tell. Their backpacks lay beside them. I had a quick rummage through for anything worth taking and found a torch, its bulb flaring into life at the press of a button. My eyes took several long minutes to adjust, but once I could see again it was to confirm only what my other senses had told me.

  Reduced to nothing more than skeletons, their bones were dulled by streaks of dry blood and ropey tendons clinging stubbornly on. All their internal organs were long gone and both skulls had been smashed in, most of the brains lapped up, presumably by the ghoul. There was nothing left for me to scavenge – what little flesh remained was far too rotten to eat.

  I resigned myself to going hungry till nightfall and made my way back to Selina, my progress quicker for the torch I’d acquired. My thoughts turned back to Gwyn as I walked. I had to wonder what had become of him in the last twenty-four hours since we’d escaped. We’d lost him in the fighting and not one of us had seen where he went. I hoped he’d found somewhere like this to make his new home, free of his curse for as long as he chose to remain in darkness, and content playing tricks on any humans who wandered unwittingly into his domain. Because as irritating as I’d found him, it wasn’t like I wanted to see him killed by the Slayers, or to kill him myself for that matter, not really. And he had helped us all escape the dungeon in one piece.

  “What did you find down there?” Selina asked as I drew nearer, squinting her eyes against the sudden beam of light.

  “Looks like two of the ghoul’s kills. Old ones, judging from the state they’re in. But at least we now have a torch.”

  She nodded. “Best try and sleep now. We’ve likely got another long night ahead of us.”

  I did as she advised and settled down beside her. It didn’t take me long to slip back into sleep, despite our less than ideal surroundings. Maybe it was because I knew Varin wouldn’t let anything happen to us for as long as his mistress commanded him, or maybe it was simply exhaustion getting the better of me yet again. Either way, once I’d switched off the torch and closed my eyes, I was quick to fall back into a light slumber. I soon found myself in the grip of another vivid dream, but this wasn’t the same vision of hope I’d had before. I wasn’t running wild and free, but creeping through a passage similar to the dungeon we’d just escaped from or the cave we were currently in, back in the waking world. And I wasn’t alone in the dream either.

  Something twisted and turned in the darkness, brushing across my skin and raising the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck. I was no longer a powerful predator but human and vulnerable again. The creature might crush the life from me at any moment, and there wouldn’t be a thing I could do about it. Yet something drove me onwards, deeper into its domain. Running didn’t seem to be an option, so onwards I went.

  A laugh sounded, one of genuine amusement that seemed to come from all around me. It wasn’t the laugh of a corporeal being, originating from a physical body in a specific location, but the sound of a creature of spirit. And I knew then who it was that taunted me in my vulnerability.

  “Gwyn,” I said.

  Light flooded the passage. As is often the way with dreams, it simply blazed into being without any explanation as to where it came from or what was powering it. But we were suddenly standing in a bright light and I could see the spirit now, trapped in his own human body.

  “Ahoy there, chummer,” he answered. “Nice to see you haven’t completely forgotten about me.”

  I felt a rare surge of guilt. “We didn’t mean to leave you behind. It just got so chaotic in that fight to escape the base. You know how it is in the heat of battle.”

  “And you had to get your sister to safety. Yeah, I get it.” His gaze intensified, his tone hardening. “You could have come back for me though.”

  “I got shot in the leg,” I growled. “There was no way to heal with the full moon shining overhead. It was hard enough just to reach shelter for the day! Never mind struggling all the way back to that place crawling with Slayers.”

  “You’re healed now.”

  “We just assumed you’d slipped away and would be hiding out in some place like this already. It’s me the Slayers seem most interested in. We had to keep moving, and I’m feeling more and more like my future lies overseas. The UK just isn’t big enough for a werewolf to hide in anymore.”

  His eyes softened again and he nodded. “You do what you have to do, bro. Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

  “We haven’t. What did happen to you, anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. Just promise you’ll come back for me when you can.”

  “I promise,” I answered, and meant it. In the dungeon I’d found his dry sarcasm irritating, but he had proven himself down there and if he had got into any trouble, he didn’t really deserve to face it alone. “Where will we find you?”

  “Gee, Nick, I don’t know. This is only a dream, or had you forgotten? And now it’s time for you to wake up.”

  “No, this feels like more than just my imagination. I’m not leaving till you tell me where to find you. Do you want us to come for you or what?”

  “I’m serious, bro. WAKE UP!”

  The words thundered in my head, jolting me from the dream as if they had some real power, far beyond what my own subconscious was capable of. I was instantly aware of something’s breath on the back of my neck, ruffling the fur there, and again there was the overwhelming stench of decay. My heart raced. Acting on pure instinct, I made a grab for the torch and flicked the switch, my body twisting to face the intruder.

  Light pierced shadow and revealed a rotting face, closer to a skull than a living human. Greying skin clung to the bone like an ineffective death shroud, attempting to hide the horrific details of the corpse beneath but failing miserably. The bones poked through, looking like they might burst out at any moment. All pretence of a nose and lips were gone. Its bare grin was no different to a skeleton’s, and there was nothing more than a hole where the cartilage of its nostrils should have been. But worst of all were those eyes. They didn’t seem to belong in that skull-like face, making it far more grotesque than empty sockets, and they were filled with such hunger. For the thing was indeed a ghoul and its hunger had brought it back after all.

  I didn’t have time to wonder what Varin was doing and why he’d let the creature get so close, instead of chasing it off the instant it appeared. Its dead face was only inches from my own, an invasion of my personal space and perhaps a challenge from a rival predator. My instincts had only one response to that. I attacked before the ghoul could attack me, lashing out with a speed and ferocity few natural animals could match.

/>   My hand swiped at the withered body, claws on a path to rake destruction across its rotten flesh. But the ghoul also possessed supernatural speed and strength, and it dodged the blow before my claws could find their mark. My fingers passed through nothing but air, the creature disappearing back into the darkness with another maniacal laugh, so very different to the one I’d heard in my dream. This sound was completely inhuman, like a hyena communicating with its pack in the midst of a hunt.

  “Selina!” I roared, spinning round to shake her awake. It was rougher than I meant to be and a trickle of blood appeared where a claw scratched across her bare neck. My eyes darted round the passage all the while, moving the torch with them in an effort to locate my opponent.

  “What?” she asked with sleepy grogginess, eyes only half open.

  “The ghoul,” I said, not daring to tear my gaze from the general direction I thought it had gone in. I was vaguely aware of Varin in my peripheral vision and my anger stirred. The barghest was just sitting there, calm as any domestic dog lazing by the side of its master’s armchair. “Why is he not helping?”

  “Calm yourself, Nick. All is not what it seems.”

  “I woke up to find that stinking, ravening corpse crouched over me and getting ready to attack. All is exactly as it seems and I’m going to kill that damn ghoul before it kills us, fellow undead or not. I don’t know why the vampires are so prejudiced against my kind when ghouls are every bit as animal as we are!”

  “If Varin had sensed we were in danger he would have attacked. We are supposed to be allies – I don’t think this ghoul means us any harm, no matter how threatening its sudden appearance must have felt.”

  “Well you try talking to it then, but I’m not backing down till it’s gone,” I snarled. But again I was reminded of Gwyn and how I’d treated him with nothing but hostility and distrust, and now where was he? The dream had felt so real that I had to wonder if the Welsh spirit had managed to reach out to me somehow. Had our conversation been more than just my imagination? And if it had, he must have felt the ghoul was a threat or why would it have been more important to him that I wake up than actually telling me something useful?