Her Vampyrrhic Heart

‘You’ve got to kill him, because he needs new victims, and he’ll know the cottage is the nearest place to find them.’

  ‘Then that’s what I’ll do, Nicola. I’ll kill the monster.’

  Tom didn’t think twice about the potentially fatal consequences of dead-end tunnels or flooded caverns. He crawled into the narrow passageway that the underground stream had eroded from solid bedrock. The way was dark, slimy and wet. This felt like wriggling through the moist gut of a gigantic animal. Not that it would stop him, Tom Westonby. Nicola was right. He had to reach the cottage before Helsvir. The lives of his brother and his brother’s friends depended on him now. So: no hesitation; no turning back.

  SEVENTY-EIGHT

  At the very same moment that Tom Westonby struggled through the narrow cave beneath the forest, Kit Bolter stared out of the window in horror. A cold, hard moon illuminated the scene. Kit watched as Freya tried to prevent the vampires approaching the front door of the cottage. When the creatures found their way blocked, they reacted with shocking ferocity.

  Kit screamed when he saw a male vampire punch Freya so hard in the face that the blond plait whipped back. She crashed to the ground. This is vampire on vampire violence.

  ‘No!’ Kit ran to the door. Watching Freya take that violent beating was unbearable. He’d stand by her, fight with her – to the last breath of his life, if need be.

  As he grasped the key, ready to unlock the door, Owen pounced, dragging Kit back.

  Owen shouted, ‘We mustn’t open the door.’

  ‘Freya’s out there! Did you see how that bastard attacked her?’

  ‘Kit, she’s not human. She doesn’t feel pain.’

  ‘Not human?’ Tears streamed down Kit’s face. ‘Not human. Jesus Christ, Owen! She’s human enough to take a beating in order to save us.’

  Owen shouted across to Jez who stood by the window, ‘What’s happening now?’

  Jez shrugged, puzzled. ‘It’s weird … it’s hard to explain.’

  ‘Damn it, Jez, try.’

  ‘That big bastard punched Freya half way across the garden.’

  Kit gasped. ‘Is she OK?’

  ‘She’s standing on the path again.’ The cast on his arm clicked against the glass as he leaned against it to take a closer look. ‘The guy that attacked her is … well …’

  Kit struggled to break out of Owen’s grip. ‘What’s that thing doing to her?’

  ‘It’s weird … he’s doing nothing. A second ago, he punched her – whack! – right in the face. Now he’s just stood there like a statue.’

  Everyone fell silent in the cottage, digesting what Jez had just told them. Jez remained by the window. Kit felt Owen’s grip on his arms, preventing him from opening the door. Eden’s hand covered her face in a frozen pose of horror. June Valko sat on the sofa with her arm protectively around her mother. Mrs Valko, alone, appeared unfazed by the extraordinary drama being played out both inside and outside the cottage. But then, according to June, the woman didn’t speak. In fact, she seemed disconnected from reality. Mrs Valko was mentally adrift in her own world.

  At last, June broke the silence. ‘I don’t understand. Why are vampires fighting vampires?’

  Kit at last managed to shrug himself free of Owen’s grip. ‘Don’t you see? Most of the vampires can’t think for themselves. They’re puppets … something else controls them. Freya’s managed to break the control. I don’t know how she’s managing it, but she’s almost human.’ He took a step towards the window. ‘It’s OK, Owen, I won’t try and open the door again. I just lost it for a moment back there.’

  Jez grunted. ‘Be sure that you don’t. There must be twenty vampires out there. The second that door opens they’ll rush in here, and then our blood will be their blood – do you follow?’

  Kit nodded. ‘Listen, I’ve been thinking. The vampires are like remote-controlled robots. Something, whether it’s an evil spirit, or the devil, or something we don’t even know the name of, wants them to attack us.’

  ‘Tom said that they’ll try and recruit us into the vampire army. Though when he says “recruit” he means …’ Owen pretended that his fingers were jaws biting his throat to get the message across.

  Kit lightly ran his fingertips across the pellet wounds on his face. They still stung, but not enough to distract him from using his keen intelligence to process what he’d seen and heard in the last few hours. ‘Freya is strong enough to overcome whatever’s controlling her.’

  ‘For now,’ Eden pointed out. ‘It might only be temporary.’

  ‘If it’s temporary that means there’s the potential to make it permanent,’ Kit said. ‘I believe that because she’s interacted with us, talked to us, and is now trying to protect us from harm, that’s causing her to become more and more human.’

  June shivered. ‘What if she does transform back into a human being? That means she’s in danger out there. I mean, vampires are almost indestructible, aren’t they? But if she becomes mortal she could be killed by those things.’

  ‘Let her into the house,’ Kit pleaded. ‘Let her in where she’ll be safe.’

  ‘Hardly safe,’ Owen pointed out. ‘We’re under siege here. The vampires have surrounded the place.’

  Eden went to the window and shuddered. ‘You know what those vampires remind me of? Chess pieces … see? They’re like chess pieces on a board, waiting for someone to decide what move to make next.’

  June sounded scared. ‘In that case, they might make a move we don’t expect.’

  Owen checked the door. ‘Everything’s bolted. There are bars over the windows.’

  ‘You might want to find a way of barricading the fireplace.’ June’s eyes fixed on the opening to the chimney. ‘There are other ways in here.’

  Jez Pollock groaned. ‘Guys, I’ve got bad news.’

  The tone Jez used put ice into Kit’s veins – his entire body shivered.

  ‘I’m sorry …’ Jez continued in that grim voice. ‘I can see Helsvir coming this way. The monster’s found us.’

  SEVENTY-NINE

  Tom struggled along the passageway. Dark, claustrophobic, narrow – the rock walls pressed against his back and chest so fiercely that at times he couldn’t even breathe properly. He’d left the main cave almost ten minutes ago. Meanwhile, the luminous hands of his watch told him the time approached midnight.

  What drove him was what Nicola had said. Helsvir had been damaged. It would need to rebuild itself using human body parts – arms, legs, heads. The nearest people were in his cottage. They included June Valko, her sick mother, and Owen and his friends. I’m responsible for them, Tom told himself as he kicked his way through water and dirt in that narrow tunnel. I told them to go to the cottage. He remembered what else Nicola had told him: he must kill Helsvir, otherwise the creature would continue its rampage into the nearby village of Danby-Mask. Innocent men, women and children would be asleep in their beds. Their lives were in his hands.

  Despite the cold, the exhaustion and the thudding headache caused by nearly suffocating in the cave, Tom forced himself onwards. Behind him, worming her way in the dark, was Nicola. Every so often, when the gap between the rock walls became crushingly tight, he’d feel her hand push him through.

  Blindly, he kept squirming forward. Then at last: he felt springy tendrils scratching his face. Were these roots? He couldn’t tell in that all-encompassing darkness. All he could do was grit his teeth and keep pushing ahead. Almost immediately, he felt a cold rush of air against his face. He shoved his hand into a mass of springy stuff in front of him. His hand broke through. Moonlight pierced the vegetation, and he realized that these must be bushes that grew around the hole where the underground stream flowed out into the river. Yes … he could hear the flow of water.

  Tom scrambled out on to the river bank. He stood there in the moonlight gratefully sucking in lungful after lungful of fresh, forest air. The sheer physical effort of escaping from the cave had worked up so much of a sweat that his body gave off
white steam. A moment later, he helped Nicola from the hole in the ground. Strangely, her skin remained that luminous white, despite crawling through the tunnel. In fact, it appeared as if her body repelled dirt and water. Natural things couldn’t abide contact with her unnatural flesh, or so it seemed.

  ‘You must get to the cottage as fast as you can,’ she hissed. ‘Helsvir might be there already.’

  Those words were enough. Immediately, he loped in the direction of home. Fortunately, the vampires had vanished from this part of the wood. Had they been drawn to the cottage, too? After all, they were allies of Helsvir. Both Helsvir and those undead creatures had been created by the Viking gods for their own evil schemes. Helsvir needed human beings to repair its body. The vampires wanted blood. They’d find plenty of both in Skanderberg.

  A bright moon lit the way. Nicola ran alongside him. He noticed she was barefoot, and she still wore the same clothes that she’d worn when he last saw her five years ago. That had been the night the vampire curse had been triggered, and she had transformed into the creature he now saw beside him.

  When she suddenly stopped running, and stood there as if in a trance, staring into space, he remembered that she’d warned him that the pull of being a vampire was a strong one. Nicola had said she wouldn’t be able to retain her self-control for long. Was her vampire nature reasserting itself? What if she attacked him? Despite knowing that he had to get back to the cottage, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Nicola here. Not now that they were finally together again.

  ‘Nicola?’ he panted. ‘It’s me, Tom. Try and hold on. Remember who you are.’

  ‘Tom?’

  He tried to smile. ‘You haven’t forgotten me already?’

  It seemed to him that somewhere behind those eyes she fought to retain control of her body. Yet something else was hungrily trying to seize control of her.

  Resting his hands on her shoulders, he looked into those stark, white eyes. ‘I’m Tom Westonby. Five years ago we were married. OK, it was the strangest wedding ceremony in the history of matrimony, but we made a declaration in front of others that we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘Tom …’ The faintest of colours ghosted through her eyes: the palest of blues. Her human nature struggled against her vampire instinct. ‘Tom … yes … I remember.’ She took a deep breath – when she exhaled, it didn’t mist the air like his breath did, from warm, living lungs. Her internal organs must be terrifyingly different from his.

  ‘Hold on to being Nicola Bekk.’ He smiled as he corrected himself: ‘No. Hold on to being Nicola Westonby.’

  ‘Tom … about Helsvir …’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say. You told me to kill him, remember?’

  ‘It’s more important than that. Listen, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on to being me. I’m afraid of losing control and hurting you. But I must tell you something vitally important about Helsvir.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He’s the key to this. The gods channel their power through him … he’s like … like a power cable. Helsvir conducts the gods’ power to the vampires. Do you understand?’

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘I’ve seen it happen.’ Her voice became distant, as if she spoke in her sleep. ‘The old gods are shadows now … they’re corrupted … rotted … their minds are so ancient that they’re fading … like a picture on a wall exposed to strong sunlight … its colours grow faint. The gods’ minds have faded, too. Their ability to think is almost gone. All that’s left is hate. And as their hatred grows stronger something like dementia takes over. They’re angry with the human race – that’s all they can understand now.’

  ‘These gods … are they the old Viking gods? Thor? Wodin?’

  ‘They’ve been known by different names all over the world. Perhaps they were good once … now they are evil … they’ve got to be stopped from hurting any more human beings. They’ll kill everyone if they get the chance. That’s all they exist for now; they want the human race to suffer.’

  She exhaled, and he felt her breath on his face. The air from her lungs was colder than the surrounding air. It could have come from some Arctic wilderness.

  He hugged her. ‘Hang on, Nicola. Be human! Stay human! Do you understand?’

  A blast of cold vapour poured from her lips into his ear. ‘Helsvir … he is the power line. He transmits the power of the gods. Through him they control us. Tom … kill Helsvir, then everything will be alright again … everything will be wonderful.’

  ‘You’ll come with me to the cottage?’

  ‘Yes, but we must be quick. The human qualities you see in me now are only temporary.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘Soon, they will take control of me again. Then …’ the smile faded. ‘I will do terrible things, Tom. I will hurt you.’

  They started to run. Tom Westonby’s heart pounded. This wasn’t purely exertion – this was the dread of knowing that he might already be too late. The cottage might lie in ruins. Already, Helsvir could have begun its gruesome harvest of body parts.

  EIGHTY

  Tom Westonby saw what surrounded his cottage. He groaned in despair. The vampires that had congregated at the cave had made their way here. Worse … far, far worse … Helsvir had arrived, too. Even though Owen had blasted away several of its legs with the shotgun, many of its limbs remained intact.

  The monster glided in vast circles around Skanderberg. This menacing action made Tom picture a killer shark circling a lifeboat full of defenceless shipwreck survivors. Round and round the cottage went the beast. Its huge bulk smashed garden fences. It ripped away branches as it scraped against trees. Helsvir steadily picked up speed. No doubt when the creature had decided it was moving fast enough it would simply crash through the house walls. Its victims inside wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Nicola wasn’t breathless – but then how could she be? Her respiratory system was no longer mortal. She never seemed to tire. He, on the other hand, panted hard. His breath came in billowing white clouds.

  ‘Tom, kill Helsvir.’ She spoke calmly. ‘Remember, he’s the key. Without him the gods can’t control them.’ She nodded at the vampires surrounding the house.

  ‘How can I destroy that thing?’ he panted. ‘Dynamite wouldn’t kill Helsvir.’

  ‘You must find a way. Otherwise he’ll start attacking people. The ones in Skanderberg will be his first victims tonight.’

  ‘I’ll have to get inside the cottage. That’ll give me time to come up with a plan.’

  ‘You won’t have long. Soon Helsvir will attack.’

  Helsvir continued to circle the building, moving faster and faster. Now even tree trunks shattered when the beast struck them.

  Tom raced towards the front door. Before he was even half way there, a bulky figure emerged from the bushes. The white eyes revealed that this was one of the vampires – and it wouldn’t be friendly. With its mouth open wide, it lunged towards him. Nicola moved even faster. She flung herself on to the creature, and both she and the male vampire slammed to the ground.

  ‘Run!’ she yelled. ‘Get to the house!’

  Tom ran. The problem now came from Helsvir. The creature sped towards him, fast as a torpedo. In ten seconds flat, Helsvir would slam his body to jelly.

  A pale shape flashed in the corner of his eye. Nicola? No, this isn’t Nicola. But why is another vampire helping me? He didn’t know why, but the woman appeared to be on his side. He glimpsed her long, Rapunzel-style blond plait as she put herself between Tom and his attacker. This she-vampire didn’t attempt to fight Helsvir … no, it was too formidable for that. Even a vampire wouldn’t have the strength to defeat it. Instead, she hurled herself under the creature. Her body formed a hard enough obstacle to cause those legs of Helsvir’s to trip, and the creature slammed down, throwing up a spray of dirt and snow.

  Tom didn’t hesitate. He sprinted for the door, shouting as he ran, ‘Owen! June! It’s me!’

  Silhouettes of heads appe
ared at the windows. The door flew open. In a heartbeat, he’d hurled himself through the entrance. The door crashed shut behind him.

  Owen turned the key in the lock, yelling, ‘Am I relieved to see you, bro!’

  Tom tried to catch his breath. Here in the lounge he saw June standing by her mother. Mrs Valko sat in a daze on the sofa. Jez Pollock stared in shock at Tom dripping mud, sweat and water.

  Kit Bolter spun away from the window. ‘Freya just saved your life!’

  ‘Freya?’

  ‘She’s a vampire. But I know she’s trying really hard to become human again.’

  Tom nodded: yes, Nicola’s striving to do likewise.

  Kit gave a sob. ‘She made that monster fall to save your life … but she’s lying out there now. She’s not moving. That thing hurt her …’ Abruptly, he sat down in a chair with his hands over his face.

  A teenage girl that Tom vaguely recognized from the village went to comfort him. Tom realized that this must be Owen’s girlfriend … Eden? Yes, that was her name: Eden Taylor.

  Meanwhile, Owen turned to Tom. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘We can’t escape,’ Jez said. ‘Those things have got us surrounded.’

  Owen seemed so vulnerable as he asked, ‘Tom? How are we going to get out of here in one piece?’

  ‘I’m going to kill Helsvir.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue.’

  ‘You best think of something soon,’ Jez said, peering out of the window. ‘That thing’s getting ready to charge.’

  And charge it did. Stone walls convulsed as that ugly beast struck. Ceiling lights danced. A flood of black soot, dislodged by the impact, whooshed down the chimney to kill the fire.

  ‘It’s trying to smash down the walls!’ shouted the girl.

  ‘No, it’s not.’ Tom listened to loud scraping sounds coming from the stonework outside. ‘Helsvir’s climbing on to the roof. It’s going to rip its way through the tiles – that’s the way it’s going to get us.’

  They stood there in the lounge, faces upraised, staring at the ceiling. Already, debris cascaded down on to the ground outside. Helsvir had harvested plenty of human arms in the past. Now many hands set to work, ripping away roof tiles. Beneath those tiles, the attic. Separating the attic from the bedrooms were flimsy boards. Once it had burrowed into the bedrooms that only left the timbers above their heads. The creature would soon smash through those to reach its defenceless victims.