by Stead, Nick
The sudden appearance of my allies was enough to relieve the pressure I’d been under, and it gave me just enough of an edge to start to press the dead warriors back. Lady Sarah kept those at the rear busy while Zee fought his way through to me, and before long I found myself facing more even odds, with only three of the skeletons still actively attacking me. I finally had the chance to retaliate instead of being purely defensive, and I sliced through the bony sword arm of one adversary, temporarily disarming it.
I kicked back another of them and turned to deal with the third, but I’d grown too cocky. The skeleton thrust forward and I was too slow to block, fresh pain lancing through torn flesh as cold steel slid into my side. I felt the blade withdraw and instantly dropped my own weapon, pressing my hands to the wound before I lost any more blood. I’d already sustained a number of cuts and I knew I was in danger of losing too much.
I was truly at the mercy of my enemies then. But somehow I didn’t think it was over quite yet – I was fairly certain David would spare me once again, if only so I could endure the final torment he had in store. My theory wasn’t to be put to the test just then though, as Zee stepped up behind the skeleton whose blade was wet with my blood. The dead warrior seemed to sense him and turned to block his attack, giving me time to recover.
Instinctively I reached for that power that granted me the ability to physically change from one form to another, relying on the cell regeneration to repair my wounds. But instead of the tissue fusing seamlessly back together, the bloody trenches in my flesh remained, continuing to leak my body’s most valuable fluid. I’d grown so reliant on that power that it hadn’t occurred to me I wouldn’t be able to heal the damage when I’d first discovered I couldn’t transform. Or perhaps I had known deep down, which was why my cuts were stinging with a greater urgency than usual, and I just hadn’t wanted to accept it till then. I cursed myself for not being more careful, knowing full well I was only going to grow weaker still if I kept bleeding.
“Time to transform, Nick! I’ll keep this one busy,” Zee called to me.
“Can’t,” I grunted. My side felt like it was on fire, though luckily the blade only seemed to have made a gash in my flesh and not in any of my vital organs. I really would have been in trouble if it had pierced my liver or something.
“What do you mean you can’t?” he asked, frowning.
“That needle,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Whatever was in it did something. I already tried shifting but nothing’s happening.”
“Selina!” he yelled. “Do something to stop this wolf bleeding, NOW, or he’s going to pass out!”
The witch looked to be just as confused as Zee had been but she came running, successfully evading the few skeletons who were still whole and the bits of bone crawling across the floor as she went. I realised she probably hadn’t heard any of what I’d said to Zee with her human ears.
“Why doesn’t he just transform to heal the damage?” she asked.
“Can’t,” I said again. I managed to repeat what I’d explained to Zee, despite the throbbing wound in my side.
Selina cursed, then took a deep breath to calm herself. “The best I can do right now is to bind your wounds to stop the bleeding. You’re going to have to be very careful from now on till either the drug they gave you wears off, or till we get out of here and I have the means to work more spells than I do at the moment.”
I just nodded and let her do what she could for me. She grabbed the sword I’d dropped and used it to cut some of the material from the bottom of the legs of her jeans, careful not to cut herself as she did so. I couldn’t breathe comfortably once she’d tied the material round my abdomen but at least it did keep the pressure on to control the bleeding, better than my bare hands had. Bandages couldn’t do anything for the pain though.
Zee finished dispatching his opponent, leaving the skeleton in so many pieces that it could no longer pose too much of a threat. He turned to face us and strode over.
“We’re too vulnerable as a group to keep on fighting now,” Selina said. “We need to go.”
Zee nodded. “Agreed. But go where? Where is Gwyn?”
“I saw him follow you in, Zee, but then lost sight of him. My guess would be in the dark passage the skeletons came out of,” I answered. “But hang on, what happened to you four in the other passage? How did you escape the fire?”
“Fire?” Selina asked. “What fire?”
“Ah, that’s what we were calling you back for, Nick. There was never any fire – it was some kind of illusion, probably created in the hope you’d go running off into this trap, which is exactly what you did.”
“Interesting,” Selina said. “We had no trouble after that last chamber forced us to split up, until the door into this one sealed shut, locking us out. Sarah sensed the skeletons, which is when she blasted her way through.”
I didn’t know what to say, unable to help feeling stupid for falling for David’s trap, though I supposed the most important thing was that they were safe and unharmed. Lady Sarah saved me from having to respond, her opponents all lying in pieces then as well. She deliberately stepped on the broken bones as she stalked over to us, crunching as many beneath her feet as her path allowed. She’d obviously been too focused on the fighting to follow any of what had been said, because she asked “Why are you not transforming to heal your wounds?”
So for the third time I was forced to explain what the injection I’d been given had done to me, finishing with “I don’t know if it’s just a temporary thing or if they’ve found some way to make me human again, but for the moment I’m stuck with this form and all its limitations.”
She shook her head, a hint of impatience in her eyes. “Impossible. There is no cure for lycanthropy.”
“Well evidently David found a way, either through science or witchcraft. Maybe it’s not really a cure as more of a suppressant, but either way, the effect is the same.”
Varin padded across to us while we were talking, still carrying Amy. They came within earshot in time for Amy to hear the word cure and latch onto it with new hope. “You’re cured? Does this mean you can come home now?”
I hadn’t really had chance to consider what the effect of the serum might mean for me if we managed to survive the dungeon and its effects persisted. If David really had succeeded in finding a way to suppress my curse indefinitely then for all intents and purposes I would be human again, or close enough. I would certainly be mortal, since I wouldn’t have the constant regeneration of cell tissue to keep me young and healthy. The Slayers would have no more reason to kill me, though whether they’d risk letting me live was debatable. And then there were those out for revenge. There might be some willing to give me a second chance but there would probably still be plenty amongst them who would rather see me dead. If that was the case, going home might still put anyone I cared about in danger.
So what did the future hold for me without my curse? I wouldn’t be able to stay around the undead – to most I would no longer be an equal (or at least a rival for vampires like Ulfarr who refused to accept werewolves), my status among them reverting to prey just like any other human. And I would be too weak to defend myself if any did choose to feed on me.
I supposed I might be able to live with Selina. Maybe I could even learn the art of witchcraft from her, if it was possible for anyone to pick it up without the need for some kind of existing natural ability. At the very least, she and Lady Sarah would be able to protect me from the Slayers and the undead alike. But if I stayed with them, I still wouldn’t be part of the human world I’d been longing to return to for the past few months, not truly. I might have more freedom to walk among them than my lycanthropy granted me, but I would still be an outsider looking in for as long as I was entangled in the bitter struggle between the dwindling numbers of undead and the Slayers.
My other option would be to try for a fresh start, somewhere far enough away from my friends and family to keep them safe from any Slayers who might
still be hunting me. I could forge a new identity and reclaim my place in human society. It would be tough starting with nothing, not even a roof over my head or a penny to my name, but no worse a challenge than any I’d faced as a werewolf, or so I thought.
But did I really want to be human again? I couldn’t deny the human world still held some attraction, and part of me would always miss certain things about it. Yet the prospect of being thrust back into mundane, everyday life no longer seemed all that appealing. I’d wanted to be cured for so long after the curse had taken everything from me, and now it looked like my wish may have been granted, I found myself rebelling against the very idea of it. I’d just accepted the lupine side of my nature and I’d grown used to my shapeshifting abilities. Was I going to have to learn to live without again?
The same sense of loss I’d felt in the wake of sacrificing my human life rose up. Even after everything the curse had made me do, I didn’t want to give up the power I’d been granted.
And then there was that darkness at the heart of the human side to me. There was no escaping the fact I was a killer. I doubted there was any coming back from that, even without any lycanthropic rage to drive me to commit the brutal acts I’d come to enjoy. I could try to go back to mankind’s idea of civilisation, but could I ever act civilised again? When I’d already crossed the line, there would be little to hold me back in any violent confrontations I found myself in. The need to kill might even continue to live in the darkness, independent of the primal fury suppressed by David’s serum.
That lycanthropic rage might have nurtured it to begin with, but it had become as much a part of me as any of my other traits. I’d made a promise to myself to stop killing in cold blood, but if I were to return to a human life completely free of fighting and bloodshed, there was every chance my inner darkness would start to hunger for death again. Maybe I would still be doomed to a cursed life as a human serial killer. And without any supernatural abilities, it would probably only be a matter of time before I was caught and locked away, or even executed if I ended up in a country where they still had the death penalty.
Whatever the future held, it was clear that returning home wasn’t an option. I couldn’t bring myself to dash Amy’s hopes though, especially with everything else she was having to cope with.
“Maybe. We’ll have to see if whatever they did to me is permanent or not. Are you sure you want me to come back? I thought you were mad at me for killing Hannah.”
“Well yeah, but you’re still my brother. Mum would be happy to see you.”
“I know. If it’s safe.”
Anything else that might have been said was interrupted by a loud crunch. Lady Sarah lifted her foot from the remains of a skeletal hand and fixed me with those cold blue eyes. “We need to go.”
No sooner had she spoken than a hidden door to our right slid open and a white fox came trotting through. Its scent was weak in the fetid air, but my nose just about caught an animal smell which it registered as male. His sudden appearance was too unusual to be a coincidence though.
“Gwyn?” I guessed.
The fox cocked his head and looked directly at me. That was all I needed as confirmation – mortal animals generally avoided direct eye contact and a true fox would surely not have dared to come anywhere near two vampires and a barghest. It had to be the knocker, and his animal form must have been what he was hinting at when he’d talked about us being kindred spirits before.
By some kind of unspoken agreement, we followed Gwyn through the door he’d just opened. It seemed like the only thing to do since he alone had any knowledge of the layout of the dungeon, vague though it may be for that last section. And as soon as we started forward, he turned and led us into the passageway he’d just revealed. I grabbed another sword on the way out, feeling I would rather have some kind of weapon than be without, even though I was in no shape to carry on fighting. Lady Sarah still carried the sword she’d claimed from one of the fallen skeletons and Zee had his cutlass drawn.
There was a hole partway along the tunnel. The mouth of it gaped wide and gloomy, but it appeared to narrow to the point where it was just big enough for Gwyn’s fox form to fit in. And as if to demonstrate that was indeed the case, he darted inside and was swallowed up by the darkness almost instantly. Seconds later, a familiar voice called out from the shadows “I left my clothes back in the other chamber. Would one of you chummers run back for them for me?”
“I’ll go,” Zee offered, sheathing his sword. It didn’t take him long with his vampiric speed.
A human hand reached out from the crawl space to receive the bundle of clothes with a simple “Thanks.”
“This tunnel, you entered it from the passage the skeletons came from?” Zee asked. I guessed that must have been where he’d found the knocker’s clothes.
“That I did,” Gwyn confirmed.
Lady Sarah’s eyes hardened as she picked up on Zee’s train of thought. “It seems very convenient that the one way out of that chamber and into the next part of the dungeon was this tunnel only you can fit in.”
“I saw it in the plans if that’s what you’re getting at,” Gwyn said. “I didn’t know they were going to send all those bony chaps in to make things more exciting.”
“But how could David know you would be with us to go through and let us out and into this passage?” Zee pressed.
“Maybe he would have automatically opened the door once he’d had enough of watching us fight the skeletons?” I offered.
“Perhaps,” Lady Sarah answered. “Something does not seem quite right about all this though.”
“Yeah,” I admitted, “I’ve been thinking the same. At first I thought he’d just accounted for every possibility so things would still go in the same direction he wanted them to, but the longer this goes on the more I’m not so sure that really explains it.”
Zee looked at Selina. “Could he be predicting our actions through witchcraft? We do know he had the help of at least one spellcaster to create this place.”
A sceptical frown slid across Selina’s face. “It’s unlikely. I’m sure you all know there are such things as visions. With the right tools it is possible to induce visions, but to try and see for long enough to discern our every movement and every decision down here? I’m not sure any witch or warlock has ever had that kind of power. There are other methods to try and predict the future, but nothing I can think of that would give the kind of accuracy needed to plan everything so perfectly.”
“This isn’t the first time the Slayers seem to have known what was going to happen either,” I said, thinking back to the base I’d infiltrated with Leon and the way they’d all been waiting for us in that one room. I quickly related the tale to the others.
“That could have been down to a vision,” Selina said. “If it was just that one scenario and they already had an idea you would be coming, it would be easy enough for a competent witch to see when you would strike.”
“I guess. They had just found Leon’s home so they probably would have been expecting us to attack at some point.”
“What about necromancy?” Zee asked. “Is it possible to glean any information on future events through the dead?”
“Honestly, I do not know,” Lady Sarah replied. “I have only ever used that power sparingly and it is not something I have ever tried.”
“I think the why’s going to have to wait,” Selina said. “We should worry about getting out of here first.”
“Good idea, we can tear the answers out of David when we find a way through to him,” I growled, wishing I still had my fangs and claws to make that possible.
“Nick! You said you were cured so stop acting like a monster,” Amy admonished.
I kept quiet but gripped the hilt of the sword tighter, thinking it would have to do when the time for vengeance came. With that, we made our way to what Gwyn assured us was the final chamber.
CHAPTER TWENTY–FIVE
Terror Made Flesh
We reac
hed the end of the passage and the panel slid up of its own accord. The terrible stench of the demon rolled out from beneath, hitting us like a physical force and sending us reeling. Even the barghest seemed affected. It was as if the thing in that chamber was terror made flesh.
We could just make out the dark shape of something large and monstrous. It stood towards the back of the room, making no move to attack when the door opened. I guessed this was another fight that wouldn’t begin until something triggered it. But unlike the games I’d grown up on, I knew this was one we weren’t meant to win. David had no doubt picked the creature as a final boss because it was something he didn’t think we could defeat, giving us no chance of actually beating his game. This was about revenge after all. He wanted me to pay for killing Fiona and ultimately that was going to end in my death, at least if it went to plan. It seemed to me that if we were going to survive, we needed some kind of a cheat.
“And you’re sure there’s no other way out of here?” I asked Gwyn.
“Sorry, fluffy. This is the last part of the dungeon.”
“What about if we backtrack to where me and Zee broke through into the main part of the base?”
“That was all carefully planned, as I’m sure you already worked out for yourself by now, purely to trick you into thinking you had a chance at escaping. I’m sure it all added to the fun for your old pal running this show.”
“Okay, can you two vampires not just blast your way through the walls telekinetically?”
“I wouldn’t advise that either,” Gwyn said. “It could cause a cave-in, leaving us even worse off than we are now. Plus there’s more warding in place to cover any possible escape routes from that kind of power, including those hidden doors into the main base I mentioned earlier. Much as I hate to say it because trust me, I’m as reluctant to go in there and fight that thing as you are, I think our only hope is to somehow beat the demon and then find a way through to the Slayers. If you hadn’t noticed, there is a window along the top of that left wall. It wasn’t in the plans but I’m guessing David’s watching on the other side of it, maybe because he didn’t want to risk missing your death if his cameras failed him.”
