The demon inside, p.1
The Demon Inside, page 1
The Demon Inside
By M L Sparrow
Copyright © 2015 M L Sparrow
Cover Design by Damonza
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, without the prior permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the author’s imagination.
To all my family and friends, who have always supported me and encouraged me to pursue my dreams. Especially my Dad; remember when I was little and we used to lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, pretending we were watching the stars? Or when we used to pull the covers up over our heads and pretend we were Cowboys hiding from the Indians? From an early age you taught me to use my imagination and to have fun with it, not knowing that you would inspire my love for writing. I always said my first book would be for you, so here it is.
I love you, Dad.
Thank you.
Table of Contents:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Epilogue
‘Hope is the embers still smouldering beneath the ashes when the fire appears to have burnt out’ – Greg Evans
Prologue
Darcy was eighteen and in love the summer the world as she knew it ended. It didn’t end the way most teenagers think of it; her heart wasn’t broken that day, the earth was attacked, invaded by a savage race who infected the minds of humans and took over their bodies. It was almost a year later that her heart was shattered irrevocably.
"Alec, baby, this isn't you. You can beat this I know you can..." Swallowing the lump in her throat, she added imploringly, "I'm not ready to lose you yet." The fingers around her wrist slackened ever so slightly, but his dead white eyes didn't even flicker. His lips parted.
"Run," he spat the word. Darcy didn't need telling twice; even though she had been prepared to die alongside him, now that the time had come self-preservation kicked in. Spinning on her heel, yanking away from his loosened grip, she dashed from the room, slamming the door behind her and sprinting down the hall.
A second later she heard him on her heels, slamming into the wall in his haste as he burst through the bedroom door with a blood curdling roar. Heading for the bathroom, the only room with a lock, she skidded on the tile floor, scrambling to close and lock the door behind her, but her trip cost her precious moments. Ramming his shoulder into the door before she had chance to slide the lock into place, he sent her flying backwards. Charging into the room, he lunged at her, but she kicked out instinctively and her heel met soft skin, sending him stumbling back into the splintered mess which was the door.
Recovering himself quickly, he stood back, tilting his head as if he was now considering her an equal opponent instead of easy prey. Darcy shivered, she didn't feel like any kind of opponent; she felt terrified and sick to her stomach, like a child unsure what her next move should be. However, in the next instant, instinct decided for her. Prowling forward, he suddenly lunged at her. Flinging herself backwards in shock, her back hit the corner of the shower. Twisting, she slid open the door with a trundle of wheels, jumped inside and shut it behind her. Coming up against the transparent barrier, he tried to go through it, only to bounce off. Stepping back, he cocked his head, baring his teeth angrily, before trying again and getting the same result.
The last couple times he had changed there had still been some semblance of human intelligence lingering behind the whites of his eyes, as if the creature could draw upon Alec's knowledge because he was still trapped inside with it, but now that was mostly gone and that was what scared her, the fact that Alec appeared to be slipping away. She knew Alec would never hurt her, but this wasn't Alec. Giving up, he backed away and she had a brief moment of hope before her eyes widened and she cringed back against the cold tile wall. Running towards her, large and unstoppable, he barrelled into the door with enough force to make both glass panels quake and rattle in their frames. Another charge and a hairline crack appeared. She held her breath; she should have stood and fought, accepted her fate, but she hadn't and now she was trapped and she had a feeling things would be all the worse for it. The third time he hit the crack expanded, spider webbing. On the forth it shattered. Darcy screamed, throwing her arms up to protect her face. Glass sprayed over her, cutting and stinging, drawing blood. Crashing into her, Alec's body slammed her back against the wall, knocking the breath right out of her lungs and leaving her gasping, floundering like a fish out of water.
In the split second of confusion that ensued, Darcy somehow managed to scramble out from under him, escaping from the broken cubicle. Daggers of glass cut into the soles of her bare feet, but the crippling fear racing through her made her oblivious. A heavy weight knocked her to the floor. Thrusting her hands forward to break her fall, she heard her wrist snap as searing pain shot up her entire arm. Her cry of pain seemed to make him hesitate and a second later his weight left her. Twisting around, she saw Alec backing away, his hazel eyes stricken as he took in the damage he'd done.
"Darcy..." He whispered, gaze sweeping over her body, lingering upon the tiny cuts decorating her legs and the way she cradled her injured arm protectively against her chest. "Jesus," the word left him in a whoosh of air, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."
Nodding weakly, she swallowed, whispering back, "It's okay." But it wasn't and he saw that, he saw the fear in her eyes, not of him, but fear of the unpredictable being inside of him. Attempting to stand, to go to him despite her fear, she slid on the glass sprinkling the tiled floor. Once more she made the fatal error of putting out a hand to break her fall. A large shard of glass sliced across her palm, cutting deep. For a moment, looking down at it, she thought that it looked like someone had drawn a neat red line on her skin in thick felt-tip, until blood started to ooze out in earnest, dripping down her hand and splashing onto the floor.
Instantly, Alec's body went stiff, his head tilting as if sniffing the air, even as he tried to blink back the darkness, his jaw tightening as he fought to resist, fists clenching. But in the end it was inevitable.
Despite his valiant effort, the change overcame him, his eyes flashing a bright, hungry white. However, Alec's brief appearance had given her hope that he wasn't entirely lost, yet a voice inside of her whispered that she had to put an end to this before someone else got hurt; it was okay while she was the only one in the firing line, but one day someone else would come around, her sister maybe, or god forbid one of the children, and they would get hurt, maybe killed. She didn't think she could live with that on her conscience and she already knew Alec couldn't. And so, with a heavy heart, she curled her blood slick fingers around the shard of glass that had cut her as he lowered into a crouch, preparing to pounce. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she refused to cry, because once she let that first tear fall the dam would break and she refused to breakdown yet, not until he was free.
Tensing in preparation for impact, she squeezed her eyes shut as he sprung, tackling her backwards with a snarl which bared his teeth in a victorious smile, crushing her broken wrist between them. His fingers dug into her shoulders as he rose above her, keeping her pinned to the floor. As if in slow motion her arm rose, pressing the point of the glass against his chest, right over his heart. However, she couldn't resist giving him another chance.
"Alec, come back to me," her voice was a husky whisper. "You love me, remember? You don't want to hurt me." His hand shot out to collar her throat, squeezing until she was gasping, grabbing at his wrist, scrabbling desperately at his arm, drawing lines of blood with her nails, weapon forgotten in her panic.
"Alec's not here anymore!" He roared the words – the voice was Alec's but at the same time it was not; it was raspy and monstrous, like nails down a chalkboard, an offence to the ears. But it wasn't the voice which struck fear into her heart, it was the words themselves.
Alec's not here anymore. Alec's not here anymore. Alec's not here anymore.
Those words rung in her ears, echoing round her head. The glass dug into his skin deep enough to cut, but still she couldn't bring herself to actually do it, not even when her life hung in the balance. Choking, vision blurring, fingertips going numb, she saw her life flash before her eyes.
Chapter One
It was amazing how in a matter of moments, the party had gone from a happy hubbub of teenagers, laughing, dancing and drinking, to a warzone. Darcy wasn’t sure what had happened, but suddenly punches were being thrown and the house was filled with screaming and shouting. Grabbing her hand, Callie, her best friend, pulled her back, until they were both pressed up against the wall. A beer bottle flew through the air and collided with the wall, shattering into a million pieces. More screaming ensued and she curled her fingers around Callie’s wrist, attempting to push through the crowd towards the door. They were so close when a pair of brawlers slammed into her. With a cry of pain, she stumbled back, teetering on the ridiculously high heels Callie had convinced her to wear, and fell, twisting away just in time to avoid being crushed between the two boys who continued to wrestle, oblivious to the people around them. One threw a fist towards the others face and the sound of grating bones and the spray of blood that splattered across her dress almost made her heave. Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of a square jaw and brown hair through the confusion. Darcy barely felt them moving, but a moment later the cool night air hit her flushed face and she shivered at the sudden change in temperature.
“Hey, you alright?” A raised voice asked her over the noise spilling out from inside the house, a gentle touch at her elbow drawing her eyes to him. He was at least a head taller than her, even in her stilettos, his broad shoulders accentuated by the bright glow of the streetlight which shone behind him and haloed a head of thick, dark brown hair. His features were cast in shadows, but she could make out the strong line of his jaw and the crooked slope of his nose.
“Yes,” she nodded jerkily, wrapping her arms around her stomach, as if she could hold in the shudders that suddenly ran the length of her body, “just shaken... My friend...” She spun back towards the front door, which was swinging on its hinges as people began to push through, hurrying out onto the street. There was no sign of Callie in the flood of people, no flash of dyed red hair. Panic caught her in its grip and her throat tightened, stomach twisting into knots.
“Wait,” his hand caught at her arm and pulled her back when she made a move towards the door, “what does your friend look like?”
“Er...” her mind went suddenly blank, words deserting her as her hands fluttered uselessly as if she could simply paint a picture of Callie in thin air, “tall... red hair... she’s wearing a bright pink dress.” Nodding, he gave her shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze as he pushed her further back.
“You stay here, I’ll go find her. Just stay right there, okay?” He waited for her agreement before heading back inside, pushing easily through the crowd.
It felt like he was gone for hours and the flow of people began to thin, slowing to a trickle and disappearing into the night, until she was practically alone, except for a girl vomiting in the bushes and another pair of teenagers necking further up the street against the bus stop. Shivering, she chaffed her hands up and down her arms, fidgeting anxiously in her uncomfortable shoes, as she glanced around the dark street. The rapid click of heels had her head turning towards the house, a second before Callie was upon her.
“Wow,” Callie exclaimed, giving her a quick, hard hug and drawing back to look at her with wide, excited brown eyes, “that was crazy!” Blowing out a breath, she shook her head,
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, jeez, what happened?”
“Connor and Joe started fighting over Vanessa, Vanessa,” she stressed the name, rolling her eyes in an ‘what were they thinking’ expression, “and then everyone started in, you know what they say, we’re all sheep.” Snorting, she shook her head again, repeating in disbelief, “Vanessa for Christ sakes.”
Callie had been Darcy’s best friend since before she could remember; they had grown up together in houses next one another. However, Callie and Vanessa had been opponents for longer it seemed, though in reality it had only been since primary school, because despite Callie’s quirky, eccentric, happy-go-lucky personality, and Vanessa’s slightly slutty one, they were both insanely clever and had both applied to Oxford University and been accepted, on the condition that they got the grades, of course.
Yanking her out of her mind, a group of boys, speaking loudly and clapping each other on the back, staggered drunkenly out of the house. Tensing, as the group paused, looking their way, Darcy glanced at the guy standing beside her to see him regarding the rowdy group.
“Cal, we should go. Are you alright to drive?”
“Oh, yeah,” she rummaged around in her small, gold handbag, fishing out her keys and giving them a jingle for effect, “ready when you are.”
“You haven’t been drinking have you?” The stranger interjected sharply, stepping closer until she could feel his body heat enfolding her like a blanket.
“Nope,” Callie made the word pop as she tilted her head up at him, asking, “Who are you anyway?”
“Callie!” Darcy frowned at her friend’s rudeness, turning to look at the guy who’d helped them, “Thank you, we really appreciate your help.”
“That’s alright,” he flashed her a genuine smile, “my name’s Alec Russell.” Instantly, she reached out to take his proffered hand, his strong fingers momentarily curling around hers and giving her hand a firm shake, before slowly drawing away, calloused fingertips sliding over the back of her hand, raising goose bumps up her bare arm as she stared up into his eyes. She couldn’t determine the colour and for some reason that bothered her. It was only when Alec quirked one dark brow long moments later that she realized he was waiting for a reply. Blushing in embarrassment, she pulled her gaze from his.
“Darcy Smith,” she nodded towards the tall, slender girl at her side, “that’s Callie.”
“Hi,” he extended a hand towards Callie, but his gaze lingered on her, “I’ll walk you guys to your car.”
“You don’t have to,” Darcy said quickly, not wanting to be any trouble, but he shifted even closer, his hand settling at her back, urging her to start walking.
“I want to,” he answered, before gesturing to Callie, “lead on.”
Callie had parked her bright, yellow Mini, a seventeenth birthday present from her parents, just down the street and it only took them a minute to reach it. Once there, Callie slid into the front seat, but Darcy hesitated, glancing at the man by her side, his hand resting on the door handle.
“Can I have your number?” Alec asked, edging into her personal space, making her feel both awkward and safe at the same time.
“I barely know you.”
“I think that’s the point,” a smile tugged at his lips, “you give me your number, I ring it, arrange a date, we get to know each other. So..?” Swallowing, she bit her lip uncertainly, glancing down at her painted toe nails. Impatiently, Callie lent across the passenger seat to roll down the window and stick her head out.
“Here, lover boy,” she held out a folded square of pink paper, “her number,” she explained, waiting until he took it before shooing him away from the door and pushing it open for Darcy to climb in. As they pulled away from the curb, with a squeal of tyres and the scent of burnt rubber, Darcy strained her neck to watch Alec out of the back window before the dark of the night obscured him from view. Standing on the pavement, wearing a pair of worn jeans, a red shirt and a perplexed expression, he watched their taillights retreating down the street.
“You gave him a fake number, right?” Why did that thought send a pang of disappointment through her?
“Why would I do that?” Callie looked genuinely confused as she turned onto the main road, swerving to avoid another car, which blared its horn angrily at them and received the finger in return.
“He could be anyone!” Reaching to switch on the music, turning it up until it drowned out her words, Callie just rolled her eyes.
Two days later, Darcy met Alec for their first date at a nearby café, having received a phone call from him the morning after the party. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach and she paused to check her reflection in a shop window for the umpteenth time. A white denim skirt coupled with a cute, lacy pink camisole and wedge sandals – an outfit Callie had helped pick out for her. Combing her long, gold blonde hair over her shoulders, she blew out a breath and glanced once more at her reflection. I look good, she repeated to herself. She’d had previous relationships and been on several first dates, but for some reason she was still nervous; this time was different and she desperately wanted him to like her.
