Blood of the Witch

by Tommy Donbavand

  “You monster!” roared Luke. “You won’t be so smug when I let one of them bite me and come after you as a vampire werewolf!”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be doing that,” beamed Sir Otto. “You’d still have to slaughter a few of these fools to get inside, and that’s hardly likely.” With a nasty smile, he tossed a leg of pork to a vampire lurking near the back of the crowd. Mr Watson caught the blood-soaked joint in his fangs and began to tear at the flesh.

  “Come on, Dixon,” laughed Sir Otto from above. “While they’re enjoying the family reunion, let’s go and grind some information out of Mr Skipstone!” The window slammed shut as the landlord and his nephew disappeared.

  Luke watched his father bite hungrily into the raw meat. “Dad …”

  Cleo rested a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be fine,” she said. “We just have to get what we’re here for and find a way to cure him.”

  “I don’t see how we’re going to get past this lot,” said Luke.

  “You seem to be forgetting that we’ve got an army of vampire rats at our disposal!” said Resus. He nodded to Shan, and in response to a harsh miaow! from the cat, the front line of rodents dashed forward.

  Twinkle flapped his wings and rose into the air before landing on a handful of the rats, crushing them. Doug simply dropped to his knees and fought them on their own level, biting in half any that were slow enough to be caught.

  “That wasn’t quite what I planned,” admitted Resus as a bog monster slurped down a few more of them. The remainder of the rats stayed in their ranks, safe behind Shan.

  “That’s because you’re using them wrongly,” said Cleo. “You need to be more creative!” She reached behind Shan and picked up one of the rats, stroking its soft fur. “Give me your fireflies,” she said to Resus.

  Resus pulled the jar of glowing insects from his cape and handed it to Cleo. The mummy unscrewed the top, dropped the rat inside and closed the jar before shaking it violently.

  “It’s occurred to me that garlic isn’t the only thing vampires are afraid of,” she said as a flash of crimson filled the jar. “They hate daylight too!” She opened the container and several huge fireflies shot out, buzzing angrily. Luke and Resus had to shield their eyes from the bright beams of light shining from the Energized insects.

  The fireflies zoomed across the grounds of Sneer Hall, sweeping the area like fast-moving searchlights. The vampire residents screamed as the shafts of light flashed across their exposed skin, burning it instantly.

  The vampires ran for cover as Cleo removed a slightly dazed rat from the glass jar and placed it gently on the ground. “And that,” she said with a smirk, “is how you deal with vampires!”

  Resus grinned as he slipped off a false fingernail and eyed the locks to the mansion’s front doors. “Now it’s my turn to shine!”

  Luke stepped into the richly carpeted hallway, Resus on one side and Cleo on the other. Shan sat at the mummy’s feet, waiting for orders to pass on to the rats.

  “Which way?” asked Resus.

  “They could be anywhere in here,” added Cleo.

  “Sneer was using meat from his freezers to feed the vampires,” said Luke. “My guess is, they’re in the kitchen.”

  “We don’t know where that is,” said Resus. “It could take us ages to track them down.”

  “Not necessarily,” replied Luke. He forced an image into his mind: the moment when the Movers had arrived to drag his family from their normal life to the dangers of Scream Street. Anger bubbled at the back of his throat and he pushed it upwards.

  The now familiar thin film began to spread across Luke’s eyes and he discovered that he could see heat trails in the carpet before him. Two sets of glowing footprints led along the corridor to the left.

  “That way,” he said.

  Resus stared into Luke’s yellow eyes and laughed. “I think someone is learning to control his transformations!”

  Luke allowed the sound of his friend’s voice to push the rage away and his eyes returned to normal. “What can I say?” he grinned. “It’s a skill!”

  He led the group along the corridor until they reached an open doorway to their right. A vast kitchen lay before them. Sir Otto and Dixon were over by one of the sinks. The landlord was holding Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street open above the whirring blades of a waste disposal unit while his nephew giggled.

  “You have approximately six seconds to tell me where the relics are before your first four chapters are shredded to dust, Skipstone!”

  On the cover of the book, Samuel Skipstone’s face was a picture of terror. “N-never!” he stammered.

  “You know,” said Luke, his voice echoing around the steel appliances in the room, “you really ought to treat books with a little more respect!”

  Sir Otto spun round and snarled at the sight of Luke, Resus and Cleo. “Deal with them, Dixon!” he snapped. “And this time, finish the job!”

  “Yes, Uncle Otto,” Dixon smiled. He grabbed a handful of knives from the nearby worktop and threw them, one after the other, at the trio.

  Resus raised a hand, blue sparks crackling around his fingers. He held out his palm and the knives bounced off an invisible shield in front of him. They flew back at Sir Otto’s terrified nephew and struck his dusty black coat with deadly accuracy. Within seconds, Dixon was pinned to the kitchen wall.

  “Now that,” said Luke, “was cool!”

  “How did you do it?” exclaimed Cleo.

  Resus shrugged. “I’ve no idea,” he admitted. “But I guess that having witch blood inside you isn’t so bad after all!” He pointed a sparking blue finger towards the remaining knife. It rose into the air and spun slowly as he turned his hand.

  With a flick of the wrist, Resus threw the knife straight at Dixon. The man screamed in terror as the weapon impaled itself in the wall just above his head, severing the ends of a few stray ginger hairs.

  “I told you there was a job in the circus waiting for me!” grinned the vampire as he pretended to blow smoke from his fingertips.

  Over on the other side of the room, Dixon’s skin began to ripple as he changed into a sewer goblin, a creature small enough to escape from his trapped coat.

  Cleo smiled. She raced towards the tiny goblin and kicked it hard. With a scream, the creature flew out of the open kitchen window. “That’s for pretending to be my dad!” she yelled.

  “You idiot, Dixon,” barked Sir Otto, snapping Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street closed and stuffing it inside his jacket pocket. “But it’ll take more than a vampire with a few parlour tricks to get the better of me!” he roared, turning to face the trio.

  “What a good idea,” said Luke. He nodded to Cleo.

  “Shan!” commanded the mummy. The cat sprang to attention beside her. “Introduce Sir Otto to your friends!” Shan leapt up onto one of the ovens and yowled, his fangs glistening in the harsh light of the kitchen.

  The polished floor turned black as a river of rats flowed into the room. They scurried up table legs and across worktops, sniffing for fresh meat with which to satisfy their hunger.

  Sir Otto Sneer screamed in frustration. “I’ll kill you all!” he yelled, backing away from the rats. He grabbed a meat cleaver and gripped its handle tightly.

  “Very scary,” said Luke. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll become a weapon of my own!” He closed his eyes and pictured his mum, her broken arm wrapped in a cast, crying with fear at the Negative’s dinner table. The anger began to flow through his bloodstream once more, but this time Luke allowed it free reign. This time, the rage must consume him.

  By the time Luke opened his eyes, he was a fully formed werewolf. He raised his snout to the ceiling and howled. The rats had kept Sir Otto at bay while he transformed, but now, on Shan’s command, they parted to allow Luke access to the furious landlord.

  With a roar, Sir Otto charged, knocking tables and chairs to one side as he raced for the werewolf. Luke leapt gracefully out of the way and the lan
dlord smashed into a fridge, knocking it over and spilling the contents. Within seconds, the rats were all over the food.

  Sir Otto turned more quickly than Luke anticipated, swinging the meat cleaver down hard. The werewolf pulled his paw back just in time, the blade of the cleaver slicing off the ends of his long claws as it slammed into the worktop.

  “Luke, be careful!” screamed Cleo.

  The werewolf lunged for Sir Otto, jaws snapping. The landlord jumped back, catching his foot on a chair leg and crashing to the ground. The meat cleaver skittered away across the tiled floor.

  Luke leapt on top of Sir Otto, fangs bared. The man pressed his hands against the wolf’s shoulders, pushing back as hard as he could as saliva dripped from the creature’s mouth. It hissed as it hit the tip of his burning cigar.

  Eyes flashing, Sir Otto thrust his face forward, pressing the glowing end of his cigar into Luke’s mouth. The werewolf yelped and fell back before the scorching tobacco burnt his tongue.

  Now that Sir Otto was able to move again, he crawled across the kitchen to retrieve the meat cleaver. He stood, eyes scanning the room for the wolf. Luke was perched on one of the ovens, growling deep in his throat.

  “This isn’t over!” bellowed Sir Otto. He charged again, cleaver held high as he ran across the kitchen. The werewolf dived to one side. Pans clattered to the floor as the landlord ploughed into the cooker, unable to stop himself.

  Sir Otto roared in frustration as he tried to turn and attack again. His foot was trapped beneath the heavy oven and he found that he couldn’t move.

  “Seeing as you’re taking a break,” Resus teased, “I might do the same myself! Time for a little light reading …” He raised his fingers in the air. Blue light shone from Sir Otto’s jacket as Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street flew from his pocket, across the kitchen and into the vampire’s hand.

  “Are you OK, Mr Skipstone?” asked Resus.

  The author nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Resus slipped the book inside his cloak.

  With an angry yell, Sir Otto managed to pull his foot free and turned to face Luke again. The werewolf leapt across the room as the landlord threw the meat cleaver in his direction.

  “It’s going to hit him!” Cleo screamed to Resus. “Do something!”

  Resus held up a trembling hand, blue sparks fizzing as the magic waited to be released. But what if he pushed the cleaver towards Luke instead of away? “I can’t risk it!” he shouted.

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the cleaver spun towards Luke’s exposed stomach. Somehow the wolf twisted out of the way just enough to avoid contact with the glinting blade, crashing to the floor as it embedded itself in the door to a walk-in freezer.

  Resus dashed over to Luke. The wolf was dazed but unhurt. “Get the cleaver!” he called to Cleo. “This has to end before Luke gets hurt!”

  The mummy raced to the freezer and gripped the handle of the meat cleaver, pulling as hard as she could. It was buried deep in the wood and she was forced to press a foot against the ice-cold door in order to free it.

  “Got it!” she shouted as the blade slipped free.

  “No!” roared a voice behind her. “I’ve got it!” Sir Otto grabbed Cleo and snatched the cleaver from her hand. “Now,” he barked, holding the weapon to the mummy’s throat. “Unless you want me to slice your pal here into pieces, I suggest you keep that freak away from me and return my book.”

  “Don’t do it!” yelled Cleo, struggling against the landlord’s grip.

  Luke leapt to his feet in anger. Resus grabbed the fur around the werewolf’s neck to hold him back.

  “Let him go, Resus!” ordered Cleo.

  The vampire looked from Cleo to the blade of the meat cleaver, just centimetres from her throat. “I can’t …”

  Cleo locked her gaze into Resus’s. “Trust me,” she said. “Let him go.”

  Resus released his grip on Luke. The werewolf raced towards Sir Otto, claws sliding on the tiled kitchen floor.

  “I warned you,” yelled the landlord, raising the cleaver above Cleo’s head.

  “Yes, you did,” screeched Cleo, swinging her foot back as far as she could. “But you’ll get no warning about this!”

  The mummy’s heel connected with Sir Otto. He squealed, dropping the cleaver and crossing his eyes in pain. Cleo spun round and pulled open the freezer door just as Luke collided with the landlord.

  Sir Otto fell, skidding across the icy floor of the freezer and crashing into rack after rack of raw meat, leaving him covered in steaks, chops, ribs and more. Cleo stuck two fingers into her mouth and whistled. Shan appeared beside her, his eyes sparkling.

  Yowling with delight, he led the swarm of rats into the cold room. The creatures began to attack the meat that surrounded Sir Otto. Exhausted, Luke slunk off to the far corner of the kitchen to transform back into human form.

  Resus appeared beside Cleo as the landlord disappeared beneath the blanket of rats. “Cleo can call them off before they turn on you,” he said. “But only if you tell us where to find the circuit board you took from the filtering machine.”

  “You’ll rot in the Underlands before that happens!” bellowed Sir Otto.

  “Very well,” said Cleo, beginning to close the door to the freezer room.

  “No!” screamed Sir Otto. The raw meat would not last for ever. It wouldn’t be long before the rats turned their attention to him. Cleo knew that Shan would stop the rats long before they took a single bite from the terrified landlord, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “My office!” Sir Otto yelled. “The desk. Bottom drawer. Now get these things off me!” Resus darted out of the kitchen and ran down the corridor.

  Cleo whistled again. Shan hissed at the legion of rats and they scurried out of the freezer. Sir Otto remained on the cold floor, shivering. “You really ought to chill out!” Cleo quipped, swinging the door closed and sliding the bolt into place.

  “Will he be all right in there?” asked Luke as the last of his werewolf features faded away. He now stood beside Cleo, human once more.

  “Dixon will be back once the coast is clear,” she said. “He can let him out. In the meantime, I think he could do with cooling down for a while.”

  The landlord’s face appeared at the small window and he hammered on the door with his fists. “I’ll get you!” he bellowed, frost already beginning to form on his eyebrows. “You watch your back, Watson. You haven’t seen the last of me!”

  Luke reached onto a nearby shelf and grabbed a can of whipped cream. He sprayed it over the surface of the window until Sir Otto was obscured from sight. “I have for now,” he said.

  Resus appeared in the doorway. “Look what I’ve found!” he grinned. He was clutching the missing circuit board.

  “That just leaves the blockage in the pipe below Sneer Hall,” said Cleo.

  “Didn’t Sir Otto say he’d stuffed the pipe with food?” asked Resus.

  “Something like that.”

  “Then stand back,” said the vampire. Pointing his fingers at the waste disposal unit, he let loose a burst of blue flame. It dissolved the spinning blades, exposing the opening to the pipe below.

  “Very impressive,” grinned Luke.

  “There are some things only a new breed of vampire can do!” said Resus.

  Cleo clicked her fingers and Shan leapt onto the worktop beside her. “I think your soldiers deserve a feast after a battle like that,” she grinned.

  The cat yowled to the rats. One after another, the rodents scurried up onto the sink and dived into the pipe.

  “Now,” said Luke, “we meet them at the other end.”

  Cleo watched as a rat appeared at the end of the pipe, sniffed at the air, then stepped onto her hand. “That’s the last of them,” she said.

  Resus screwed a cap over the pipe and bolted it in place. “OK,” he said. “Let’s turn this thing on and see if it works!”

  The vampire had slotted the circuit board back into pl
ace inside the filtering machine while Luke and Cleo had cleared away the rat’s nests and set up some electric lights. The room at the end of the sewer looked brighter already.

  “Ready?” asked the vampire.

  “Ready!” answered Luke and Cleo together.

  Resus pressed a button on the machine’s control panel and watched as the gauges rose to normal running capacity. Taking a metal tankard from inside his cloak, Resus opened a tap and filled the container with thick, frothy blood.

  “Well?” asked a voice from the corner of the room. “Is it OK?”

  “You tell me,” said Resus, handing the tankard to his dad. Alston Negative had been shuffling nervously ever since Shan had tracked him down. The older vampire had been collecting used sticking plasters from Scream Street’s bins and applying them to his body as temporary blood patches.

  Alston took the tankard and drank deeply. “Hey! Slow down, Dad,” Resus laughed. “You’ll wake up with a bad head tomorrow!”

  “Not after this,” said Alston. “This is good, pure stuff!”

  “He’s right,” said Cleo as she stroked the rat in her hand. “It seems to have flushed the vampire Energy right out of these little guys’ systems.”

  “Time for the real test, then,” said Luke. He turned to his own dad, strapped into a chair beside the machine.

  Mr Watson looked up at him with hungry eyes, fangs still jutting through his gums. “Are you sure this will work?”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Luke. “Resus says he’s got the tubes connected up to the right parts of the filter.”

  “I don’t mean that,” said his dad. “Will it stop me wanting to bite people? Stop me wanting … wanting to drink?”

  Luke squeezed his dad’s hand. “Once the Energy’s filtered out of your blood, you’ll be back to fainting at the sight of it, I promise.” He nodded to Resus and the vampire knelt beside the chair.

  Mr Watson closed his eyes as Resus sank his fake fangs into his arm, quickly strapping a pair of clear rubber tubes over the puncture wounds. Blood began to flow along one of the tubes and into the filtering machine.