Dead End (Dark Season VIII)

by Amy Cross

  I take a deep breath. I thought I'd finally got through to Patrick. I thought he was finally going to help me, to share things with me, to show me his world. Instead, he opened his mouth and spoke to someone else, and then he literally turned to stone before my eyes. Is he dead? Somehow I feel he's still alive, but looking at the statue, I can't see how he could have survived. But why does he look so happy?

  I walk over to the statue, and I pick up the broken arm, and then I drop it and it smashes into small pieces, and a gentle breeze blows the dust away, as if it was never there in the first place and will never be there again.

  Epilogue

  Neratovice, Eastern Europe – Two thousand years ago

  One day, shortly before his thirteenth birthday, the boy went down to the river. His father had given him plenty of jobs to do, but the boy was strong and had completed all his tasks by early afternoon. Whenever he had time to spare, he always headed to the river, to watch the water flow past and think about all the places that the river would go. He planned to one day follow the river, to be its companion, to walk and walk until he reached the end of the world; and then, depending on how things seemed, he would either turn back or keep walking.

  Today, though, something felt different. The boy was used to sensing that his experiences were not the same as those of other boys. He'd never managed to fit in, and had learned to stop trying. But even by these standards, today felt odd. He felt as if he was in the middle of the most astonishing change, as if he might suddenly sprout five extra heads or might turn into a dragon. Unable to ask his father for advice, and unable to turn to anyone else, the boy could simply wait nervously to see what would happen.

  Sometimes, as was happening right now, the boy heard another heartbeat. Just for a moment, it would drift into his mind. It was a normal heartbeat, but distinctive, and the boy had begun to understand that he must find the person to whom it belonged. After listening to the hearts of everyone he met while he was growing up, he had come to the conclusion that finding the owner of this heartbeat was going to be harder than he imagined. So he simply dreamed of the day when he would be free to follow the river and one day find the source of this heartbeat, no matter how long it took. Already, he was falling in love with the owner of that heartbeat.

  After a while, the boy became aware that he was not alone at the river. A woman was coming along the path, smiling as she saw him. The boy thought of turning away, but he figured he might as well just wait for the woman to pass. The worst that would happen would be that he might have to say hello to her, but he was willing to put up with that. Besides, the woman looks friendly and obviously posed no danger. In fact, the boy perceived danger less and less these days; sometimes, he felt as if nothing could hurt him.

  “Are you all alone?” the woman asked. There was something familiar about her, though he couldn't work out where he'd seen her before.

  The boy nodded. He had no desire to speak to anyone, and he had learned that people usually just left him alone if he was quiet.

  However, the woman stopped and watched the river with him for a moment. “Your father is a good man and he has taught you a lot,” she said, glancing down at the boy. “But there are some things he can't teach you. Things no-one can teach you. You'll need to be strong”.

  The boy stared ahead, hoping that the woman would go away.

  “You don't remember me, do you?” she asked.

  The boy looked up at her. He didn't recognise her at all, though there was something vaguely familiar about her.

  “You're about to become something,” the woman said. “Something new. Something that will resonate through the rest of time. Something that will be feared and loved in equal measure. You will be the first, but you will create others like you, and then you will regret those actions and you will destroy them all. And then...” She smiled. “You will lead an interesting life, and you will find true love one day”.

  The boy studied the woman's face for a moment. He had no idea if he could trust her, but her words rang true somehow. He felt some kind of change occurring inside him, accelerating, and he sensed it was nothing that anyone else had ever experienced before. It was new. He, soon, would be new. And he was scared and excited in equal measure.

  “Good luck, Patrick,” the woman said finally, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment before walking on along the river. “Call me if you ever need a nanny,” she called back to him.

  The boy watched her go, and was filled with a sensation that he had never experienced before. It felt as if his blood was rushing, as if his body was starting to burn from the inside. After a moment, the boy dropped to his knees. He couldn't tell if he was dying, or if this was just the change that he had been expected. But slowly he began to feel something happening all through his body. Holding his hands up, he looked at them and believed for a moment that he could see them changing, as if something was altering every aspect of his physical form. He was starting to feel stronger and stronger with each passing second, and finally the pain subsided and he was left kneeling by the river, knowing instinctively that he could never, ever go home.

  Getting to his feet, the boy took a deep breath and wondered if he should perhaps go and find Hanmar, and say goodbye. But Hanmar would never understand, and the boy realised that he should just start walking. The sound of the mysterious heartbeat flitted through his mind for a moment, stronger than ever before. Feeling drawn to start walking, the boy started along the riverbank, noticing after a while that although he could see far into the distance, he could no longer see the woman ahead of him. Still, it didn't matter. She was just some slightly weird woman who had happened to wander past.

  Taking a look back at the path that led to his home, the boy recognised that he would never go back. He would never see Hanmar again, and he would never rejoin his old life. But he had a sense of a much wider world out there, waiting for him.

  He was ready for anything.

  So the boy turned away from home, and he followed the river, and he walked and walked and walked. He liked being alone, and he knew that it suited him, even if he also knew that he would sometimes have to talk to people. Along the way, he put his new-found strength to the test, bringing down animals twice his size and eating directly from their bodies, sometimes even drinking their blood. All of this filled him with new strength. When he eventually met a party of raiders, they attacked him and ran him through with swords, yet he was able to kill them all and keep walking. His wounds healed, and he finally understood that something very unusual was happening to him. He also felt a sense of destiny, something wrapped up in the heartbeat that urged him to keep walking. He would find the people he needed to find. He would live. He would breathe. He would die many times over. He would fight. He would love. And for now, he would explore his new strengths and his new powers, and he would discover the truth about himself, so that he could hide it from others.

  He would eventually become the last vampire, but long before that he was also, once, the first.

  COMING SOON

  Abigail (Dark Season 2.1)

  ALREADY AVAILABLE IN THE DARK SEASON SERIES

  Dark Season: The Last Vampire

  Dark Season II: Sentinel

  Army of Wolves (Dark Season III)

  The Civil Dead (Dark Season IV)

  The Life, Death, Life, Life and Death of Martin Keller (Dark Season V)

  Gothos (Dark Season VI)

  Testament (Dark Season VII)

  Dead End (Dark Season VIII)

  FREE SAMPLE: LUPINE HOWL VOLUME I (COMING IN FEBRUARY 2012)

  Soho, London, January 1st this year.

  “No, seriously, how old are you?” He keeps pace with me, following me all the way along Dean Street in the late night pouring rain. “How old are you? Come on, how old are you?”

  “Go away,” I say, trying not to look at him.

  He steps straight in front of me and grabs me by the shoulders. “Come on, love. How old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?”


  “Twenty-two,” I say, staring up into his scarred face. “Okay? Now go away!”

  I barge past him, but he persists, following me around the corner. “Seriously?” he asks. “Twenty-two? I hope you don't mind me saying it, but you look fucking good for twenty-two. Nice-looking girl. Where you staying tonight? You got somewhere to sleep?”

  “I'm fine,” I say, crossing the road. My clothes and shoes are already soaking wet, and I'm freezing. It's almost midnight and people are starting to pour out of pubs, clubs and bars. It's not a good time to be out alone, with nowhere to go.

  “I know a place,” he says, still bugging me. “Good place. Safe place. You can sleep there. There's food and stuff. Nice people. You can come with me, if you want. I promise, hands off all the way. I'm just trying to help you, yeah? Just trying to help. Yeah?”

  I stop and turn to him. “I get it!” I shout through the rain. “But I don't want to come with you! Now fuck off!”

  “Oh, Jesus,” he says. “Look, I'm just trying to help. One lonely, messed up person to another. Good faith. I just want to help. You really fancy sleeping out in this?”

  I stand there, staring at him. It's raining so hard, I can barely breathe. I'm drenched, and freezing, and my only plan is to head down to the river and maybe find somewhere dry under a tree in a park somewhere. And that's when it hits me: this guy, this strange guy who looks like he's been in a ton of fights, and who seems seriously pushy, and who stinks of cigarettes, and who looks like he could pull a knife on me at any moment... this guy is actually my best option for the night. So what if he wants a little something in return for a roof over my head for the night? It's only once. It's only one night. And it's better than freezing to death.

  “Okay,” I say, defeated.

  He reaches out a hand. “Alex,” he says, smiling.

  “Jess,” I say. His hand is big, pudgy, warm and coarse. It feels like he has bits of dried glue all over his skin.

  “You coming with me, yeah?” he says, putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me down a side road. As we go, I see a passing man in a suit staring at me with concern. He knows what's going to happen. Well, fuck him. It's alright for that suit-wearing bastard, probably on his way home from a night at the theatre. It's easy for him to judge.

  “You'll be okay here,” says Alex, leading me through a door into what looks like an abandoned black-brick building. It's dark inside, but at least it's mostly dry and not too cold. Drips occasionally fall down onto my head as we make our way deeper inside, eventually coming to a large hallway with a set of stairs leading up to the next floor. “Don't be scared, Alex says ominously, flashing a big toothy grin that I just don't trust. “It's alright”.

  I hope I'm wrong about this.

  We head up the stairs, eventually coming to a large room where a couple of other men are playing card by the light of a small electric lamp. They look up as Alex and I approach them.

  “Found this young lady outside,” says Alex. “Thought she could use a roof over her head for the night”.

  The two men look at me, and they're conspicuously eyeing up my whole body from head to toe. “Alright,” one of them says eventually, seemingly not too impressed.

  I shift awkwardly on my feet. “I can just go to another room,” I say to Alex. “I don't want to disturb you guys. It's really -”

  “Relax,” Alex says, interrupting and immediately unnerving me. “We're friendly. We don't bite. We just figured you could repay the favour by entertaining us a little tonight. Isn't that fair?”

  I stare at him. “I don't really know what you want,” I say.

  Alex grins. “You want to stay here tonight, right?” he asks. “Warm, dry, safe?”

  I nod.

  “Cool,” he says. “That's really the only decision. It doesn't put us out much to have you here. I mean, it puts us out a little, but you can find a way to make that up to us, I guess”.

  The two other men look up from their game of cards for a moment.

  “Here,” says Alex, handing me a two-thirds-empty bottle of vodka. “Have some of this. Not all of it, mind. Share and share alike”.

  I take the bottle, look at it and consider whether it's safe to drink. When I look up, I see that all three of them are staring at me intently.

  “Cheers,” I say, taking a swig. Fortunately, it takes exactly like vodka should, although I'm still not entirely sure it's safe. As I take another swig, I'm frantically trying to work out how far I'm willing to go in this situation. What price am I willing to pay for the security of a roof over my head tonight? I know what these guys want, but how much of it am I willing to let them have?

  “Come here,” says one of the card-playing men, grabbing me and pulling me onto his knee. I can immediately feel his hard cock pushing against the seat of my trousers. “I hope you're better than our last waitress. We had to let her go”.

  I try to pull away from this foul, whisky-stinking old man, but he's got a firm grip on me. The more I struggle, the more I feel his cock grinding against my ass. Just as I'm considering elbowing him in the face and bolting, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small knife, holding it against my stomach.

  “Everybody calm down,” says Alex. “We all want different things, but if we work together, we -”

  He doesn't get to finish that sentence, because I manage to slip away from the guy in the chair and, in doing so, I kick Alex square in the crotch, sending him tumbling to the floor. I fall next to him, but I manage to clamber to my feet and run. I don't look back to see if anyone's following me, but in the dark I can't see the stairs and I end up running towards an open doorway. I run through to the next room, turning immediately and pushing the door shut. I pull a chair over and try to jam it under the handle, but I don't think it's going to hold. I run across the room and through another door, but I pull up as I see something large and human-shaped on the floor. It take a moment before I can work out what I'm looking at, but when I finally understand, I turn and throw up.

  It's a dead girl. She looks to be about my age, and she's naked, with her jagged wound across her throat. She looks fairly fresh, dead for just a day or two. Already, the room smells pretty bad. I guess this is their previous waitress.

  After I've thrown up some more, I turn to look at her again. In the blue moonlight that streams through the broken window, the girl looks almost beautiful, almost alive. It's as if, at any moment, she could just stand up as if nothing has happened.

  I look over at the doorway, my heart beating so fast I feel like I might pass out. I was expecting Alex and his pals to come after me, but there's no sign of them. They seemed pretty drugged up, but I can't imagine they're so relaxed that they'd let me just run off. Still, with no sign of them after a few minutes I creep back towards the door and take a look back into the next room.

  Nothing.

  I have to get out of here, so I edge carefully through the next room. Peering around the corner, I see that the table where the two men were playing cards is now bare. Did they just pack up and leave? I glance back in the direction of the room where I found the dead girl. I guess maybe these guys don't want to hang about and have to explain what happened to her. If the -

  Suddenly an arm is wrapped around my neck and I'm pulled backwards. Someone swings me around and I come face to face with Alex and one of his pals.

  “We were just being friendly,” Alex says. “You took things way too far”. I look over at the dead girl. Alex sees where I'm looking and smiles. “Yeah,” he says, pulling his knife and stepping towards me.

  “Why don't you leave her alone?” says a voice from the other side of the room.

  Alex stops and turns. In the gloom, it's just about possible to make out what seems to be the figure of a man. But it's too dark to make out his features.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Alex asks. “You a tourist? Want to take a picture?”

  “I said, why don't you leave her alone?” the stranger says.

  “Why don'
t you lay on the floor with your neck sliced open, bleeding to death?” Alex replies. He pulls a blade from his pocket and steps towards the stranger. “Oh, need some help with that?”

  The stranger steps forward, into the light, then smiles and quickly reaches out and grabs Alex's arm, twisting him around and sending him tumbling to the floor. Before anyone can react, the stranger puts his foot on Alex's neck, steps down and there's a loud and sickening crunch. Alex's eyes open wide, and then he's still.

  “I don't like killing,” says the stranger. “But it's horribly necessary sometimes, and one must not shy away from necessary things”. He looks at me. There's something striking about his dark eyes. He's youngish, about my age, with an intense stare, and he seems very confident. “Don't you agree?”

  I manage to slip away from the guy who has been holding me. Instinctively, I go over to stand next to the stranger.

  “Don't be scared,” he says. “There's nothing to be scared of”.

  I smile nervously. “You're not the first person who's said that to me tonight,” I say, glancing down at Alex's corpse.

  “Point taken,” says the stranger.

  There's a sudden clatter as Alex's two friends run as fast as they can. The stranger and I stand and listen as they almost fall over each other running down the stairs.

  “Thanks,” I say, which is something of an understatement. This guy pretty much saved my life.

  He stares at me for a moment. “You shouldn't be here,” he says. “Go home”.

  I look down at Alex's body, then I look over at the dead girl. “What about them?”

  The stranger shrugs. “What about them? They're dead. Boo-hoo. Now leave. If those fuckers come back, I won't save you again”. He turns and walks away.