The Four Realms
CHAPTER ONE - The Lure of Blood
CHAPTER TWO - A Knock At The Door
CHAPTER FOUR - The Morality Of Hunger
CHAPTER FIVE - Maureen And The Troll
CHAPTER SIX - The Fall Of The Vampirwaffen
CHAPTER SEVEN - Death And Opportunity
CHAPTER TEN - A Different Direction
CHAPTER TWELVE - X Marks The Spot
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Fight In The Library
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Stepping Out
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Mr West Takes Charge
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - The Intruder
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Escaping Home
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - Joseph's Secret
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - Narrow Escape
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - Voodoo Magic
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - Larry McNally’s
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - The Minibus
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - The Farmhouse
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - Damage Limitation
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - In The Company Of Elves
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - Vampires
CHAPTER THIRTY - An Unlikely Benefactor
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - Echoes From The Past
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - The Trap
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - Why You Should Never Try To Mug Little Old Ladies In New Salisbury
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - Maureen’s Rescue
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - Magellan
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT - Flower Power
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE - The Bunker
CHAPTER FORTY - Shadows Of War
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE - A Hero’s Welcome
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO - Final Words
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - Fight On The M25
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR - Unexpected Arrivals
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE - Our Heroes Meet
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX - West’s Unexpected Gift
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN - Betrayal
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT - Shoes And Flowerpots
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE - Cometh The Hour
CHAPTER FIFTY - Death Of A Gateway
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE - Damage Control
THE FOUR REALMS
by
Adrian Faulkner
Published 2012
by
ANARCHY BOOKS
Woodhall Spa
Lincolnshire
UNITED KINGDOM
www.anarchy-books.com
ANARCHY BOOKS
Woodhall Spa
Lincolnshire
UNITED KINGDOM
www.anarchy-books.com
First published worldwide by ANARCHY BOOKS 2012
Copyright ©
Adrian Faulkner 2012
Adrian Faulkner asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Mobi ISBN: 978-1-908328-52-6
ePUB ISBN: 978-1-908328-53-3
ARTWORK & Cover design by Matt Cauley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, now or yet to be invented, without the prior permission of the publishers.
This novel is wholly a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed herein are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and to events or places, is entirely coincidental unless otherwise accredited.
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For Emily
1982 - 2004
It was always for you
CHAPTER ONE - The Lure of Blood
They were as opaque as ghosts, ignored by the London commuters jostling their way home. People walked around them, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
Darwin and Cassidy were as good as invisible to the daily exodus that passed that cold February evening.
Fashion sense had been rejected in favour of warmth by the masses: pinstriped business men wore multi-coloured earmuffs, fashionable women wore thick winter jackets that puffed out their upper bodies to the size of championship weightlifters.
Had Darwin and Cassidy's clothes not looked so grubby and worn they might have even blended in.
But they had the stench of homelessness about them, and it made people avoid them as if they carried some form of plague.
Snow had been forecast, which probably explained some commuters' annoyance as Cassidy stood in front of the electrical shop, trying to imitate the dance moves from the music videos playing on the televisions in the window. Her black pigtails bounced along with her moves, but she had to keep stopping to push those big bottle glasses that seemed to engulf half her face back up her nose.
"Every time I think I've finally got it, they change the video," she said to Darwin, who sat on the railings watching her, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled low over his face.
"Come and have a go, it’s fun!"
Darwin brushed off the idea with a wave of his hand, before tucking it back under the arm of his long, tattered woollen coat in an effort to keep warm.
It wasn't that he was worried about making a fool of himself in the bustling city congregation; after all, who was paying them any attention.
No, it was the fact that he didn't have the energy.
He pulled back his hood, his hair black and unkempt falling across his face.
It was no wonder that their recent attempts at begging had been largely unsuccessful he thought as he looked at his reflection in the shop window.
His skin was sallow, and his eyes sunk into big black rings.
Even the most charitable soul would think that any donation would simply fund some drug habit.
But if Darwin had any habit, it was something those few sets of eyes that didn't look through him could never have imagined.
He'd taken to walking with his head down, not for any reason of shame, but because picking up the dropped change that littered the streets had been their best form of income.
If only he could find enough money to get Cass a hot meal.
Her fake fur coat - she'd never wear real fur, no matter how cold she was - hid just how skinny she really was.
Cassidy tried to twirl, and almost fell over in the process, stumbling into the window.
"I've almost got this one down," she said breathlessly, despite evidence to the contrary.
Darwin smiled weakly back.
Over the past few years he'd been her protector, her provider and a surrogate older brother, and never once through all the challenges and problems they'd encounter, had she been anything other than happy.
The music video changed again, this time to some rock ballad.
Cassidy played air guitar and clutched at the sky, copying the singer on the televisions.
Darwin followed her hand skywards to see the first flakes of snow descend and land on his upturned face.
He was about to tell Cassidy that they'd better get back to the squat before the arrival of the forecasted storm, when he stopped and sniffed.
That smell was unmistakable.
"Blood," he said to himself in little more than a whisper.
It was the faintest of smells that danced around his nose and pulled at the hairs.
He savoured it for a second as he felt it tingle up his nerves and to his brain where it seemed to explode.
All his other senses shut down as he tried to maximise the sensory overload and he felt himself get hard.
It had been so long since he'd smelled blood this strong that it was like awakening a long dead memory.
He licked his lips trying to remember the taste to accompany the smell but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Cassidy was dancing around the pavement trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue, commuters joining the dance that was taking place by trying to step out of her way as she careened around in circles.
"It'thhh Thnowing," she said with her usual child-like innocence, her tongue extended as far as it would reach.
Darwin ignored her and sniffed hard, trying to pick up the scent again. He jumped down from the railing and walked this way and that, sniffing the air like a dog.
Then the smell hit him with such force that his nostrils burned and his eyes watered.
A fresh kill probably no more than a mile away.
Without a second thought, he started running, his body finding reserves of energy he didn't have five minutes before.
Cassidy must have looked down from the sky in time to see him running across the road.
"Darwinnnnn," she screamed, running after him.
"Waiiiiiittt!"
Horns blared and brakes screeched as she ran out in front of the traffic, but Darwin didn't dare stop to see if she was all right.
He might lose the scent, the body might get cold, she might try and dissuade him again.
He was too hungry to concern himself with anything else.
Cassidy had a knack for making him feel guilty.
When she'd first met him, she questioned why he needed to kill his prey.
After all, there was half of him that was human, she'd justified.
Yet attempts at abstinence had proved unsuccessful.
Without blood he gradually became weak.
From there they moved to pigs' blood, easily sourced from butchers.
But Darwin found that by the time it had reached the butcher it was several days old and was akin, as he told Cassidy, to drinking cold tea.
He'd not liked the idea of rats at first, thinking them dirty creatures, but Cassidy assured him that their blood would be perfectly clean. They had been a taste he still wasn't sure he had fully acquired, but they were in plentiful supply, and whilst lacking in nutrients, were good enough to sustain him.
He'd promised Cassidy that with the exception of the rats, he'd never kill again.
However that had proved much harder than he'd anticipated.
The mere smell of human blood was enough to set him off into Blood Lust, an almost primeval state where Darwin became more vampire than man.
The last time it had happened it resulted in them having to hastily leaving Southampton.
He tried to explain to Cassidy that it was just instinct, a natural urge from that vampire part of him, yet she'd always make him feel guilty.
But this smell Darwin was following seemed different.
This wasn't some stab or bottle wound on a living person - Darwin had worked hard to try and filter those smells out.
No, this was something freshly dead, and if he got there quick enough the blood would still be warm and he'd not upset Cassidy in the process.
Semantics surely, but he'd still have stood by his word not to kill.