Dark Season: The Complete Box Set (127 page)

"I don't want to die," I say firmly, trying to stay calm. "Please, Abby, I don't want to die. Not here, not like this -"

She lunges for my neck and I feel the two fangs slice through the flesh. The pain is intense as I feel her slowly sucking the blood from my body; reaching out, I grab hold of her shoulders and try to push her away, but she's too strong and there's nothing I can do. Finally, in an act of desperation, I try to punch her, but I'm starting to get weaker and weaker. As she continues to feed, I can feel her hot breath against my skin, and it feels as if she's getting warmer and warmer while I'm getting more and more cold. It's too late to stop her, though. It's too late to do anything. I close my eyes and wait for the final moment. Determined not to scream, I hold my breath as my life slips away into nothingness.

Epilogue

Sitting at my desk, I stare at the opposite wall and wait for her to return. People often ask me why I have no pictures or decorations in my office, but the truth is simple: I like large, open surfaces into which I can gaze and lose my thoughts. I spend so much of my time dealing with people and problems, it's a rare luxury to sit and feel as if the world's problems are drifting away from me. These moments are vital and, as I stare at the large white wall, I find myself becoming less and less aware of everything else in the room until - finally - it's as if the whole world is blank.

"I did it," says a voice nearby.

Turning to look at the doorway, I see that Abby is back. There's blood on her chin, and she looks a little dazed.

"Sit down," I say. "Please."

She walks slowly over to the chair on the other side of my desk, before taking a seat and waiting for me to say something.

"How was your first taste of live human blood?" I ask.

She stares at me for a moment. "It felt good," she says eventually.

"I'm glad," I say, smiling. "You mustn't feel bad. It's part of the natural order. You need blood to survive. You're an animal, just as we humans are animals. All animals do what they must, in order to survive. You can't fight nature."

"I think it hurt him," she says. "I thought it'd be quick and painless, but I think he was alive for a couple of minutes after I started to..." She pauses. "Benjamin... Is that normal? Did I do it right?"

"I don't know," I reply. "Abigail, you're something completely new. As far as I can tell, you're the first successful offspring to be born of one human parent and one vampire. All other attempts have failed. With you, we're entering new territory and we must be careful not to rule things in or out based on our expectations. There has never been anyone like you in the past, but I can assure you that your kind will have a long and prosperous future." I smile. It's hard to believe that this unassuming young lady is so important. "You do realize," I continue, "that in a few days' time, Patrick will be dead and you will be the only vampire left in existence. You know that, don't you?"

She nods.

"I'm not even sure if we should call you a vampire, though," I say. "Perhaps we should come up with a new word to describe what you are."

"Vampire's fine," she replies. "It kind of seems to fit."

"We'll see," I say. "For now, you should probably rest. We're setting off tomorrow on a very important journey."

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Somewhere rather exciting," I tell her. "Somewhere I'm sure you've never been before. I'm going to take you to visit an old friend." I pause for a moment. "We're going to deliver a message."

Book 7

A Woman, Waiting

Prologue

Dedston, Many years ago.

"Shelley!" shouts Mrs. Hardstone. "Shelley, where are you? Get back here right now!"

Running between the trees, I try to put more and more distance between myself and that bitch of a teacher. Just because I'm nine years old, I don't have to run over to her when she calls. I get treated like a dog at home; I don't need it when I'm at school as well, and besides: this is recess, so I get to do what I want. If that means unlatching the gate and heading out into the forest, I don't see why it's any of Mrs. Hardstone's business. I'll be back by the time recess is over, pretty much.

"Shelley!" she shouts again, but this time her voice is much further away.

I stop running, smiling at the thought that I've managed to give her the slip. That was the easy part, though. Now comes the hard part. Stepping carefully through the forest, I listen out for the sound of Amanda and the other girls. They're older than me, and they go to the local high school so they're allowed out at lunch. I know they come into the forest and sit around talking, and I want to join them. I've even heard rumors that they know magic, and they perform spells and stuff like that. I want to see for myself, and I want to persuade them to let me take part. I might look like a kid, but I hate hanging out with people my own age; they're all idiots, and I want to hang out with the big girls. Once they see that I've snuck out from school, they'll have to let me be one of them.

"Shelley!" Mrs. Hardstone calls out. She doesn't sound like she's getting any closer, but I still don't want her to scare Amanda and the others away.

It takes me a few minutes to find any sign of other people in the forest, but eventually I hear the chatter of distant voices. Making my way cautiously in the direction of the noise, I eventually spot five girls sitting in a circle on the forest floor. I pause behind a tree, peering out and seeing that Amanda and her friends are holding some little white cards. Amanda's talking, and the others are kinda keeping their eyes closed and listening. I don't know what witches look like, but they definitely seem to be doing something weird. I take a few steps forward and hide behind a closer tree, and finally I can just about make out what they're saying.

"This one's all silver," Amanda tells her friends. "It's good for scaring away werewolves. This one's gold, it's lethal to older spirits so if you ever come across Sog-Yothoth, this is the one to use. Remember this stuff. It might save your lives one day."

I creep closer and closer. They haven't noticed me yet, which is good. I want them to be impressed when they finally realize that I've managed to find them. They're probably gonna assume I'm a stupid kid, but I'm not. Amanda's fifteen or sixteen, but that's only six years older than me. Anyway, I'm way older inside. All the other girls at school are into dolls and stupid games, and they hate me because they know I'm different. I need to hang out with people who are more mature; they'll understand me better, and they'll accept me for who I am.

"All this stuff is useless if you meet a vampire," Amanda continues. "Vampires can do what they want. There's nothing you can use to scare a vampire away. Vampires have gray skin and they're, like, eight feet tall and they have long, thin fingers and -"

"Shelley, what do you think you're doing!" Mrs. Hardstone shouts, grabbing the back of my collar.

"Shit!" I say, turning to look up at her.

"Don't you use that language!" she replies, staring down at me harshly before looking over at Amanda and the others. "You girls are from the high school! Amanda Hodgson, I know your mother and your principal! Are they aware that you're out here? What are you doing, anyway? Is this some kind of witchcraft?"

"Where did that fucking kid come from?" Amanda says, staring at me with a look of horror and disgust. She and her friends grab their stuff and run away through the forest.

"Didn't you hear me calling for you?" Mrs. Hardstone says, still holding me firmly by the collar as she leads me back through the forest. "Or did you just decide to ignore me? Did you think I was just out here shouting your name because I had nothing better to do?"

"I didn't hear you," I say quietly, my eyes filling with tears. I hate the way I always cry when I'm in trouble. It's like, I don't care what Mrs. Hardstone says, and I don't care that she's mad at me, but I have this annoying physical reaction to being told off. The tears just flood down my face, making me look like some kind of idiot. If I could just stop crying all the time, I'd feel much better.

"You didn't hear me calling after you?" she asks. "Don't lie to me, Shelley. I know perfectly well that you heard me. You're not deaf, are you? You just wanted to get away with doing whatever you were doing. There's a reason children aren't allowed out here alone. This forest isn't safe."

"I'm not a child," I reply, my lower lip trembling as she continues to march me back to school. "You're walking too fast," I whimper, stumbling over the rough forest floor.

"Tough," she says. "You most certainly
are
a child, Shelley, and so are those girls you were with."

"I wasn't
with
them."

"It doesn't matter," she continues. "I recognized them. Their principal will be getting a phone call from me this afternoon, and so will their parents."

"No!" I say, trying and failing to break free from her grasp. "If you do that, they'll blame me! They'll hate me forever!"

"Nonsense," she replies. Up ahead, the school is coming into view as we reach the edge of the forest. "Those girls need to be taught a thing or two. They'll thank you in a few years when they realize that they've been saved from wasting their lives. You'll thank me too, Shelley. You'll look back on your time with me and you'll realize that everything I do, I do it because I care about you. You're a smart girl but your head is filled immature rubbish."

"It's not!" I say, barely able to speak over the tears.

Mrs. Hardstone unlocks the gate and pulls me back into the playground, before marching me over to the corner. This is where people have to go when they've been naughty, and I spend time here almost every recess. I swear, I don't set out to break the rules; I just seem to have this instinct for doing things that get me into trouble. It's not fair, but I don't think it's
totally
my fault. If Mrs. Hardstone is gonna set stupid rules, it's inevitable that people are gonna break them. This corner isn't really for naughty people; it's for smart people.

"You know how this works, Shelley," she says as she positions me in the corner, facing the wall. There's another girl standing nearby; I guess she was naughty too. "You'll stay here until the end of recess," Mrs. Hardstone continues. "I hope you'll use the time to think about what you've done, and about why it's so important that you change your attitude. No talking between the two of you." With that, she turns and walks away.

Sighing, I imagine her phoning the high school and telling the principal about Amanda and the other girls; I imagine Amanda being told off and being made to stand in the high school's naughty corner; I imagine Amanda realizing that it's my fault Mrs. Hardstone found them in the forest. Sniffing back tears, I realize Amanda and the other girls are gonna hate me forever. They're gonna think that I ruined their lives.

After a few minutes, I look over at the other girl in the naughty corner. I recognize her, but we've never really spoken. She's not crying; she's just staring at the wall in front of her.

"What's your name?" I ask.

She doesn't reply. Glancing back across the playground, I see that Mrs. Hardstone is busy with some other kids.

"It's okay," I say to the girl. "She's not looking. I only asked your name. I'm Shelley."

The girl looks over at me.

"It's okay," I tell her. "You're allowed to tell me your name."

She pauses for a moment, clearly not sure whether to speak. "Sophie," she says eventually.

"Sophie what?"

"Sophie Hart." She looks over her shoulder, to check that Mrs. Hardstone is busy.

"Why did you do?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you in the naughty corner?"

"I swore," she replies.

I smile. "What did you say?"

"I can't say it again," she says. She seems kind of sombre and serious.

"No-one can hear you," I remind her. "Tell me."

She shakes her head.

"It won't shock me," I say. "I know all the swear words."

She double-checks that Mrs. Hardstone isn't watching us. "Damn," she says after a moment.

"Damn?"

"That's what I said."

I stare at her. "Is that a swear word?" I ask eventually. "I thought it was just a normal word."

"Mrs. Hardstone says it's a swear word," she says.

"Mrs. Hardstone's a bitch," I reply.

"Don't say that!" she hisses. "That's another swear word!"

"What is?" I ask, grinning. "Bitch?"

"Shut up!" she says, staring straight ahead at the wall.

"A bitch is a female dog," I say. "That's what a bitch is."

"I'm not allowed to talk to you," Sophie says firmly.

"Because I'm naughty?" I wait for an answer, but Sophie is clearly ignoring me now. "Damn and bitch," I say finally. "And damn again!"

"Stop it!" she says, her face turning bright red from embarrassment. "You'll get me into more trouble."

"Okay," I reply. "I'll shut up and never talk to you again, if you just do one thing for me. You have to call me a bitch."

She shakes her head.

"Call me a bitch and I'll leave you alone forever."

She shakes her head again.

"Call me a bitch."

"Shelley!" Mrs. Hardstone shouts, having come up behind me. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," I mutter, feeling tears in my eyes once again. Damn it, I hate the way I get so emotional when I'm in trouble.

"Did you use the b-word?" she asks. "Be honest with me, Shelley. Did you use that word?"

"No," I reply, glancing over at Sophie.

"Sophie," Mrs. Hardstone says, "I'm going to ask you, and I expect you to be totally honest with me. Did Shelley use the b-word or any other swear words?"

Sophie looks over at me, and I can see the indecision in her eyes. She seems totally prim and proper, and I bet she's desperate to rat me out so she can score some points with Mrs. Hardstone. At the same time, I think maybe she's wondering whether she should keep quiet and help me stay out of trouble.

"Answer me, Sophie," Mrs. Hardstone insists.

"Yes," Sophie says.

"Thank you," Mrs. Hardstone says. "Sophie, as a reward for your honesty, you may go and play now."

I watch as Sophie turns and runs back across the playground. Damn little snitch.

"Okay, Shelley," Mrs. Hardstone continues, "I think we've reached the limit of the naughty corner. It's quite clear that there's something deeply wrong with you, and my traditional discipline is never going to iron out all your creases." She pauses for a moment. "Turn and face me, young lady."

Sniffing back tears, I turn and look up at her.

"Do you know what you are, Shelley?" she asks. "You're possessed by demons. You have evil and ungodliness in your heart, and I don't think you'll ever be saved. You were doomed long before you ever came to this school, and I'm afraid it's beyond my abilities to help you." She kneels in front of me, fixing me with a dark stare. "You're a fucked-up little bitch. You're going to grow up to be a monster who does nothing but hurt people until the day, hopefully soon, when you decide to do the only decent thing and kill yourself. You have no value, no worth. You have nothing to contribute to the human race, other than misery and suffering. Everyone who ever spends time with you, will end up regretting that they even met you. How does that make you feel?"

I turn to run away, but she grabs my shoulders and forces me to stay. I try to wriggle free, but it's no use. She's got me held firmly, and I just have to stand here and wait for her to be done with me.

"Do you want to know how you'll end up, Shelley?" She pauses for a moment. "You'll end up as some diseased pus-bag tramp, dying on the streets somewhere with a needle poking out of your arm. You're going to have a miserable, pointless life and then you're going to die a horrible, meaningless, agonizing death. People will walk past your body, and they'll be glad that they're nothing like you. You'll be buried in an unmarked grave, and no-one will come to your funeral because no-one will like you. Maybe they won't even bother to bury you; they might just burn your body and toss your ashes into the trash. And then you'll go to Hell, where you belong, and you'll suffer for all of eternity. And do you know what I'll do on that day? I'll laugh."

She turns and walks away, leaving me standing here with tears streaming down my face. I'm crying so much, it's hard to breathe, and I can see other people in the playground have noticed that I'm upset. Damn it, they're gonna start making fun of me. Turning back toward the wall, I try to hide my face. I shuffle as far into the corner as I can, determined to make sure that no-one can see me. I usually hate the naughty corner, but right now it feels like a good place to hide. I have to make sure I pull myself together before recess is over, because I can't go back to class looking like this. Still, though, the tears just keep on flowing and it feels like I'll never, ever be able to stop crying.