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A.N w00t! Thanks for reading! By the way, I've decided that the Darren Shan saga will be set in Ireland, not the normal England. Don't ask me why, I just like the Irish accent better. .
Oh, and Emikae? I… kinda got lost halfway through your question… I feel dizzy now... whoo boy…
And about who found his diary - good question. o.O I've only read up to book 8, so I'm making most of this up as I go along. Does that make sense? Hmmm.. -walks off to ponder-
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"Oh, hey. It's been a while."
"Yeah, it has."
"So, how've you been? Finally gotten a girlfriend yet?"
"No…no, I've just been busy."
"Oh. You're still… you're still looking for that thing, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am."
"Oh... oh… well… is there any reason why you called?"
"Nah, not really, just… just wanted to say hi and see how you're going."
"Well I'm fine. Mum and dad though…"
"Oh, yeah, it was today, wasn't it?"
"Yeah… today… Four years ago…"
Silence.
"I… I still remember it. He was lying there, on the table, looking like he was just sleeping, that he would wake up at any moment… I, I could almost swear he was still alive!"
"Well… your mind does funny things to you when your-"
"Steve. You don't have to lie to me anymore. I… I can guess what happened. It had something to do with the spider bite, didn't it, then you getting better? He, he struck a deal with someone to help you, and that's what your searching for now -"
"Look, I've gotta go now. Bye."
Annie Shan began to protest, but I only heard a tinny voice through the receiver as I placed it back on the hook. I stayed that way, leaning over the phone, gripping the edge of the table with trembling hands, biting my lower lip.
Though she didn't know the specifics, she had guessed. But what she had guessed was wrong. Darren didn't strike a deal to save me. He struck a deal for his own greedy reasons. He took my place.
That is one thing I will never forget. I will never forget that he took my place.
With an enraged yell, I straightened and punched the wall in front of me.
"Damn you, Shan! Damn you!"
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It had been ten days since I arrived at the 'City of Fallen Children' as the tabloids seemed to be calling it. But in those ten days, I had only a small amount of luck. I did a little bit of research, finding out who the other murdered children were. I found them out with little trouble – though it was a large town, everyone seemed to know everyone, and so basically the first person I asked knew everything about it.
I found out that all the kids were between the ages five to twelve. All six of them were killed at equal intervals – every ten days, it seemed. And every one of them had a set of three small scratches on their faces, with no recollection of how they got them. But other than that, I had no leads. There were no connections between the murders, no patterns; just six kids bled dry in two months.
So I took to walking the streets at night. I had no weapons, stupidly believing I could use my own two bare hands to beat back a vampire if the need arose. I patrolled the better areas – the places where most young families lived.
On the first night – three days after Betty Jamieson's death – I saw nothing.
On the second night – nothing.
Third night – lucky guess, nothing.
Fourth night – nothing, once again.
Fifth night – something. It was only a tiny thing, so tiny that if I hadn't accidentally walked into the kid, knocking over his shopping and making us both scramble for everything, I would never have seen them. As I straightened to apologise and give him back his things, I noticed three, tiny scratch marks on his cheek.
"Where'd you get those marks?" I asked before thinking. The kid looked at me, puzzled.
"Um… I think my cat scratched me… thanks for helping me… bye now…" And with that, the kid pushed passed me and ran off. I watched his progress, putting it down mentally. Then, when he had a good start, I began to trail him, following him all the way to his home. I watched as he slipped through the front door of the large two-storey house, and silently congratulated myself.
Seemed like I finally had a bit of luck.
So, the next two nights, I found myself curled up in a nearby tree, watching his house. Sometimes I could see him through the curtains – I could see him laughing and playing with his little sister, giving his mum hugs and teasing his dad, feeding his dog scraps under the table, rolling a ball of twine around for his cat…
It was pretty hard to keep myself awake for so long. It was only the bitter cold of the night that kept me up, as the wind blew and found my skin through the little holes of my jumper and pants. I think I almost fell out of the tree at one stage.
And then it happened. It was so quick that I almost missed it – I had been busy pinching myself trying to keep awake, when I heard a piercing scream come from the boy's house.
Immediately, I was alert, jumping down from the tree and running towards the house. I could see the light in his room on – there were several shadows moving around, one coming closer and closer to the window…
There was a sudden shattering sound as a shower of glass fell down around my head. I raised my hands to protect myself, then felt something hard and heavy fall down onto me, pushing me to the ground and knocking all the air from my lungs. I peered through my hands in time to see a pair of blood red eyes. I gave a yell, and the thing on top of me hissed, leaping to its feet and sprinting off.
Quickly, I rolled over, wincing as glass pricked my skin, and got to my feet. Back upstairs, I could hear the boy sobbing, along with his mother and little sister – good. He was all right.
I turned back in the direction the vampire had gone, and frowned as I saw another shadow running along the rooftops. Shaking my head, I began sprinting after them, thanking my not-so-lucky stars for my soccer training days.
Like I said, my stars weren't so lucky. In mere minutes, I found myself lost and out of breath. I wasn't in any familiar territory – it was a dark, dank alleyway, a brick wall barely visible beyond the rubbish and graffiti that collected around in. Panting, I doubled over, bracing myself on my knees.
"Dammit!" I cried loudly, straightening and pulling my hands behind my head – as soon as I did, though, a pair of powerful hands shot out behind me, one grabbing me around the neck, the other grabbing my arms, holding me in a strong headlock. I let out a gurgle yell, struggling, trying to kick the person behind me.
"Why are you following me?" The person hissed, his breath burning my skin. I didn't answer – not that I was able to. The hand, claw, whatever it was, around my neck was much too tight. Already I could feel my lungs screaming for air.
"Drop the kid," another voice, this one cool, calculated, growled from behind both of us. There was a clicking sound, like something falling in place. "Or I put this arrow through your chest right here, right now."
"You!" The thing behind me snarled.
"Yeah, me. You going to do what I say, or do you want to die, vamp-boy?" I noticed that there was something strange about the other person's accent – it definitely wasn't Irish, Scottish, or even British.
The thing – vampire – snarled again, and shoved me into the wall. I turned around in time to see it lash out with a kick to the person behind it, then leap for the brick wall.
There was a clicking sound, and then a whirling, like an arrow being fired, and the vampire let out a scream of pain. He clutched his shoulder tight, sending the person and me a glare over his shoulder, then disappeared over the wall.
The person cursed, running up to the brick wall, slinging a gun-shaped object over their shoulder. They paused, and glanced back over their shoulder at me. Since it was dark, I could only see a shadow.
"You okay, kid?"
I nodded grimly.
They nodded back. And then they began climbing the wall, almost as easily as the vampire, but still slower. When they reached the top, they turned around again, letting a shaft of moonlight light part of their face – a hood covered the rest.
I felt my jaw drop.
She winked.
"Leave the vamp hunting to the professionals, kid." The vampire hunter said, and then she disappeared, jumping down over the wall.
It was only a few minutes later, when the blearing sirens and lights of police cars filled the alleyway, did I come out of my stunned stupor. Or then again, maybe it was when the police were forcing my hands behind my back and shoving me into their cars when I really woke up.
