Read Danny Darke’s new book “Shade of Dean: Everyone Has Demons”

A Taste of Shade...

The vampire stood in the doorway, a silhouetted figure backlit by the full moon; a moon so bright that it cast shadows visible even to the mortal eye. The clouds had parted and left the night clear and brisk with a cold Shade did not feel, cold that sparkled and glittered as it froze the water from the very air, as frost and ice formed on every available surface.

The breeze gusted suddenly.

It caught at strands of Shade’s long brown hair, hair that at first glance could seem unremarkable. First glance, maybe, but it never took long until the light fell upon it in a particular way, or caught it at a certain angle and suddenly the reds and coppers and golds it contained burst into blazing life.

It caught the strands and lifted them, tugging them free of the pony-tail that never seemed to keep the vampire’s hair tied back, no matter what the weather was doing. It sent them waving and dancing around his head, tangling them together until suddenly releasing them. They dropped to hang in front of eyes the colour of dark honey, in front of a face that appeared to be scowling, though in actual fact was merely frowning in concentration, the brow furrowed in thought.

It stirred the air and the smell of blood drifted again to Shade’s nostrils, blood that was mixed with the scent of something else, and it was that particular scent that had led the vampire here, to this apparently abandoned house with boarded up windows and peeling paint.

Shade lifted his head and scented the air, his manner almost feral. It was dark inside, yet his night vision was perfect and his eyes pierced the darkness with ease. No, it was not the lack of light that gave the vampire pause, that brought him to a halt upon the threshold, nor was it the lack of an invite, for this house had not belonged to any one family or household for so long that the traditional invitation was no longer required.

No. It was something else entirely.

Fear, certainly, but not a fear of the creature who lurked within the crumbling walls. The creature was not to be taken lightly, but Shade had dealt with its kind many times before. He had dealt with worse, with far, far worse, during the time he had spent tracking it.

No. It was a sense of loss. A fear of completing the task he had begun the better part of a century ago. Chasing the creature to the point of obsession, and like any obsession it had taken over, had become his entire life. One by one he had left behind the things that had once mattered, one by one he had sacrificed them for the sake of the chase.

For eighty-nine years he had followed and hunted. He had learned all there was to learn of its kind and in so doing had become something of an expert. He had finally picked up its trail and learned it as an individual, had learned its ways, its habits and patterns. He had learned of its associates and its rivals, of its friends and its enemies. He knew everything there was to know of it, and somewhere along the way he had lost himself. He knew it better than he knew himself because there was little of him left to know. While it had continued to live, he had become what his name suggested him to be; a mere shadow of the beast.

Eighty nine years. Nine decades of circling and searching, of closing, always closing in. of staying on its heels, but never quite catching up. Near, but never near enough.

Until now.

Shade stepped into the house. He walked through the carnage he had come to expect. It no longer shocked him. The only difference between this and the countless other lairs he had entered was that this time, this one last time, the creature had not moved on. He could feel its presence, could feel it lurking deep within the decaying house.

He suspected it was just as aware of him.

He moved noiselessly up the stairs, stepped lightly in his heavy boots. His eyes picked out the loose boards and rotten wood, and his feet avoided them. Not a single creak to give him away. He knew instinctively where it would be. The door to the room hung crooked; streaks of rust from broken hinges stained the wood.

The vampire paused to collect himself.

He felt strangely numb. The outcome hardly mattered to him, what mattered was that it was over. No matter how things turned out, it was finally over. He was free. Whether he was released to life or death seemed almost beside the point.

He pulled the door aside and stepped into the room.

She was beautiful, just as he remembered her. She looked to be about five or six years old, her glossy raven coloured hair in two tidy plaits. She did not resemble him in the least, but she never had. She was his adopted daughter, after all.

She looked up from where she was sitting, cross legged, a knitted teddy bear held in her lap. Her lifeless eyes might have once been dark brown. She smiled, and her smile tugged at his heart the way it had all those years before.

"Hello Daddy." Alice held her arms up to him, the smile still on her face. Her voice was dry and rasping, made of paper flowers and dead leaves. It tasted of nursery rhymes. “I waited and waited for you.” There was a sing-song quality to it. "I was so scared Daddy, but I knew you would come. I always knew you would come."

Blood tears obscured Shade’s vision, but his aim was true. His hands were steady as he pulled the trigger.

The demon began to transform even before the bullets struck. It screamed and flew at him.

The fight began.