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Darren Shan

Blood Beast

PART ONE — LOCH

DAMN THE SANDMAN

My hands are red with blood. I’m running through a forest. Naked, but I don’t care. I’m an animal, not a human. Animals don’t need clothes.

Blood on my tongue too. Must have fed recently. Can’t remember if it was a wild creature or a person. Not bothered much either way. Still hungry—that’s all that matters. Need to find something new to chew. And soon.

I leap a fallen log. As I land, my bare feet hit twigs. They snap and I sink into a pool of mud. I collapse, howling. The twigs bite into me. I catch a glimpse of fiery red eyes peering up out of the mud. They aren’t twigs—they’re teeth! I lash out with my feet, screaming wordlessly…

…and mud and bits of bark fly everywhere. I stare at the mess suspiciously, my heart rate returning to normal. I was wrong. I haven’t fallen victim to a monstrous baby with mouths in the palms of its hands and balls of fire where its eyes should be. It’s just a muddy hole, covered with the remains of branches and leaves.

Scowling, I rise and wipe my feet clean on clumps of nearby grass. As I’m using my nails to pick off some splinters, a voice calls, “Grubbs…”

The name doesn’t register immediately. Then I remember—that’s my name. Or it used to be, once upon a time. I glance up warily, sniffing the air, but all I can smell is blood.

“Grubitsch…” the voice murmurs and I growl angrily. I hate my real name. Grubbs isn’t great, but it’s better than Grubitsch.

“You can’t find me,” the voice teases.

I roar into the darkness of the forest, then lurch at the bushes where I think the voice is coming from. I tear through them but there’s nothing on the other side.

“Wrong,” the voice laughs, coming from a spot behind me.

I whirl and squint, but I can’t see anyone.

“Over here,” the voice whispers. This time it’s coming from my right.

Still squinting, I edge closer, towards the source of the voice. This feels wrong, like it’s a trap. But I can’t back away from it. I’m drawn on by curiosity, but also something else. It’s a girl’s voice and I think I know whose it is.

Movement to my left, just as I’m about to round a tree. Eight long, pale arms wave in the light of the moon. Dozens of tiny snakes hiss and slither. I cry out with fear and slam into the tree, shielding my eyes from the horror. Seconds pass but nothing attacks. Lowering my arms, I realise the arms were just branches of a couple of neighbouring trees. The snakes were vines, blowing in the wind.

I feel sick but I force a weak chuckle, then slide around the tree in search of the person who called to me.

I’m at the edge of a pond. I frown at it. I know this forest and there should be no pond here. But there it lies regardless, the full moon reflected in its still surface. I’m thirsty. The blood has dried on my tongue, leaving a nasty copper-like taste. I crouch to drink from the pond, going down on all fours and lowering my head to the water like a wolf.