Vampire Hollows

Chapter Forty



There was nothing. No light or sound. There was only weightlessness. I wasn’t in pain, I wasn’t happy or sad. Nothing. Was this what death was really like? Wasn’t there meant to be some kind of tunnel? A bright light even? Where were all my friends who had passed before me? Weren’t they meant to be waiting to greet me? Great beaming smiles to welcome me home? But there was something – I was thinking, having conscious thoughts. So that was like being alive, right? Like being in a coma, but not being able to move or speak.



“Oh no, Kiera, you’re not alive. You really are dead,” a voice said from beside me and without even turning, I could see that it was one of those hooded Elders who had spoken to me. But its voice no longer sounded childlike and playful. Now it sounded deep and old.



“The Lycanthrope mauled you to death,” another said, and this time the ancient voice came from above me. “If only you could see yourself, Kiera. He made a right mess of you.”



“And my mother?” I asked them.



“The Lycanthrope’s lust for blood was unforgiving once he had eaten you,” another of the Elders said, this time from beneath me.



“Where am I?” I asked them.



“Nowhere,” the fourth replied.



Then, seeing them for the first time, they removed their cloaks and revealed themselves. But their cloaks didn’t come fully away; they flew behind them like wings. I could see the fabric had been stitched to their flesh. It wasn’t the only stitches I could see. Their decrepit faces and bony bodies were a crisscross patchwork of scars. They were hideous, and the sweet, innocent voices they had spoken with were no more than a deception to hide the true horror that hid beneath their robes.



“Where’s nowhere?” I asked, fearing the answer.



“Kiera, you chose to end your own life over that of the Humans and Vampyrus!” the female of the Elders said, her face a writhing mass of wrinkles. “You saved two entire races even though you were not one of them. And that is your true greatness! You’re not great because you can fly, race at incredible speeds and see what others cannot. What you have truly seen is the potential goodness in both the Humans and the Vampyrus and you gave up your own life – your own species as you were the last of them – so that the Humans and Vampyrus could find their way. That has been your true greatness, Kiera Hudson.”



“So what happens to me now?” I asked.



“Because you failed to make your choice, you are now out of the reach of God’s blessings. You have been cursed to walk in the shadow of death.”



“But I couldn’t choose,” I cried out. “Your God asked the impossible.”



“The decision was made for you,” another of the Elders said, its toothless gums rubbing sorely together. “The Hollows have been sealed forever. Those Vampyrus that had made lives for themselves above ground have been snatched back, never to return. All of them will forget about their past lives, just as the humans will forget about them.”



“And the war?” I asked.



“The humans will not remember how some parts of their cities fell. As you know all too well, the humans are resourceful and imaginative creatures. They won’t be able to explain what happened, but they’ll imagine something, they always do.”



“Earthquakes, I shouldn’t wonder,” another of the Elders roared with spiteful laughter.



“And what of me?” I asked them, desperate not to look upon their grotesque wounds and faces.



“You are now one of the living dead,” the female said. “Cursed to walk the Earth alive, yet dead.”



“You have become one of the Dead Flesh,” one of them boomed like thunder. “You have no heart and no soul. You are unable to enter Heaven or Hell. Until…”



“Until what,” I begged.



“Until your curse has been lifted,” another of them said, its voice growing fainter.



“And how is the curse lifted?”



“We will send three dark angels to guide you,” the female said from beneath me as if fading away.



“How will I know who they are?”



“Their names are Malachi, Gabriel, and Uriel,” The Elder’s voice no more than a distant whisper.



“Where will they guide me to…?” I asked as I gazed into…



Chapter Forty-One



…the eyes of the pathologist. I looked round at the morgue. The policeman was clutching his legs as he lay on the floor screaming. There was another guy in a white lab coat cowering in the corner.



“How did I get here?” I asked the female pathologist, and my face felt odd, as if I had just recovered from some injury.



“I was carrying out a post-mortem on you,” she mumbled, as if not believing herself.



“But where did I come from?” I pushed.



“Your body was found up on the mountainside,” The police officer screeched in pain. “You shouldn’t be alive. You had no face or fingers – you have no heart!



“What’s he talking about?” I said, looking down at my hands, then, gently touching my face with them.



“It looked as if you had been mauled by some giant wolf,” the pathologist told me. “He’s right, you were brought here in a body bag, with half your face and fingers missing. But…”



“But what?” I asked.



“They grew back right in front of us,” she mumbled as if she were going to cry.



“You’re fucking dead!” the police officer roared, in pain and fear. “And now you’re walking around the morgue.”



Then, staring at me as if I were some interesting medical freak show, the pathologist said, “Who are you? What are you?”



Before I’d the chance to answer her, the mortuary door crashed open and two figures came running in. And it was my turn to look shocked, confused, and bewildered.



“I thought you were dead?” I breathed.



“We were,” Isidor said, aiming his crossbow at the police officer lying on the floor.



“Stop pointing that goddamn thing at me, will ya?” the police officer roared. “Can’t you see she’s busted up my legs?”



Then, turning to the second figure that had come crashing through the door, I said, “Kayla, is that really you?”



Smiling at me, Kayla came forward, and said, “Kiera, what happened to you? You look like shit!”



“Can someone tell me what’s going on here?” the pathologist asked, backing away from the three of us.



“I’d like to know the answer to that myself,” I breathed, not believing that Kayla and Isidor were standing before me.



“You’re alive,” I gasped, reaching for them to make sure that they were real.



“No, we’re dead!” Isidor said, stepping back towards the door as if preparing to make a quick exit.



“In fact, we’re angels,” Kayla corrected him.



“I get it,” I said as Kayla pulled me towards the door. “They said there would be three of you.”



“C’mon, we don’t have time,” Isidor shouted at me, looking back over his shoulder. “We’ve got to get out of here – something really bad has happened!”



Before I could ask what, Kayla took my hand and dragged me towards the open door. I looked back at the pathologist and said, “Kiera Hudson.”



“Sorry?” she frowned.



“You asked me who I was,” I reminded her. “My name is Kiera Hudson, and I’m one of the Dead Flesh.”



Then I was gone, racing out into the night after my friends, not looking back.



I followed them to a car, its taillights burning an angry red in the night. There was someone leaning against the side of it, but it was dark and I couldn’t see who it was.



Kayla and Isidor raced towards the car as if there was no time to lose, and I raced after them, unable to take my eyes off the figure standing against the car. There was something vaguely familiar about the shape and size of his silhouette and if I’d had a heart, it would have been racing in my chest.



Within feet of the figure I knew who it was, and I raced towards him, throwing myself into his arms.



“Take it easy, tiger,” Potter whispered as he held me tight.



“I love you,” I whispered back, and he kissed the tears that flowed down my face. Leaning back from his arms so I could look into his eyes, needing to make sure it was really him, I said, “Potter, is it really you?”



But before he’d had a chance to answer, Isidor climbed into the back of the car and as he did, he grinned, “Yeah, it’s him alright, except his name isn’t Potter anymore, it’s Gabriel.”



Letting go of me, Potter raced around the side of the car, but not quick enough to stop Isidor from slamming the door shut in his face.



“My name is Potter!” he shouted through the glass as Isidor grinned back at him. “It’s not Gabriel, that’s a freaking girl’s name!”



“That’s what those Elders named you when they brought you back,” Kayla reminded him as she winked at me and climbed onto the backseat next to her brother.



“I couldn’t give a rat’s arse what those old farts called me,” Potter barked and stuck a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “My name’s Potter, okay?”



“Whatever makes you happy,” Isidor smirked from the backseat of the car.



“Can you believe this shit?” Potter moaned at me. “I’ve been raised from the freaking dead to spend the rest of eternity listening to that wise-arse!”



“Nothing changes you, does it?” I said, looking over the roof of the car at him.



“Listen, sweet-cheeks, it’s not me who needs to change,” he snapped. “It’s that dumb arse.” Then, he climbed in behind the steering wheel.



I got in next to him as he fired up the engine and sped out of the car park. Smiling to myself, I watched as he chewed on the cigarette that dangled from the corner of his mouth.