First Blood
Prologue
Moonlight slices through the beakers on the tops of the laboratory counter, a hundred shafts of light bouncing off the pristine, polished surface. Precise lines of glass tubes held in stark white cartons are piled on the centre island.
Dr. Ethan Murphy enjoys the small space of his lab, one he has worked hard on making his own. He is grateful for the comforting quiet it brings and is, at the moment, even more thankful for the size of the large counters, They fully hide his crouched, shuddering body as he haunches behind them, biting his lip to stop his shuddering breath giving away his position.
"Tut tut, Dr. Murphy, nobody likes a coward."
The taunt is followed by the smash of glass, shards of the broken beakers glancing across the linoleum floor.
Dr. Murphy squeezes his eyes shut and grips his knees closer to his chest, his teeth biting down into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The squeak of the intruder's shoes on linoleum stops. The air falls silent and heavy, pressing down like a weight on Murphy's tight shoulders.
"If you don't want me to find you, Dr. Murphy, you shouldn't make yourself so tempting." The voice echoes from nowhere, a hungered growl from the darkness.
Murphy's eyes snap open as a warm drop of blood dribbles from his lip and soaks into his trousers. He wipes the blood from his lips and chokes back a sob.
But it's too late.
A hand lurches from the dark and snatches at Murphy, like claws around prey.
"Such an irresistible thing, don't you think?" the man whispers, his face shadowed but the glint in his eyes unmistakable, When his tongue laps over the smear of blood on Murphy's hand, the doctor retches and tries to crawl back, yelling as the hand grips his tighter.
The crack of bone perforates the silence.
"Dear, dear..." he tugs on Murphy's mangled hand dragging him over the slick surface of linoleum. "I don't want to break you, doctor." Murphy is yanked up onto his feet. The intruder is the same height as he is, but appears ten feet tall in the gloom.
"Shhhh..." He places a firm finger on the doctor's lips to stop the trembling cries. Then he takes Murphy's hand in both his, staring into his eyes with the intense, paralysing gaze only a predator can achieve. "Why don't you relax?"
The words reverberate like a haunting echo inside Murphy's head, bouncing from one of his skull to the other until he sways with dizziness. A swathe of calm seeps from his head down into his neck, following his spine and reaching right down to his toes, until his stumbles back from the suddenness of his muscles relaxing.
Murphy smiles at the intruder and takes a deep breath.
"Much better," the intruder whispers, before plunging his teeth into Murphy's throat.