Darren Shan - Slawter

Davida sets the scene, runs the actors through their paces, makes sure all the cameras and lights are correctly positioned, then takes her seat. Action!

I watch nervously, holding my breath, as Salit Smit and the others spill out of the church, faces bright and determined. There are eight steps down from the doors. As they hit the second from bottom step, laughter echoes from within.

“Poor, foolish humans,” the demon crows. Salit and his crew whirl, gasping. “You think you know so much. But, like all mortals, your knowledge of the world is pitiful. It would be amusing, were it not so sad.”

I start to shiver at the first syllable. There’s no mistaking that voice, the low, mournful tone. I know what’s coming next. I’d give anything to be wrong but I know I’m not.

The demon appears, gliding out of the shadows. He’s lit perfectly. I hear murmurs of approval from the people around me. They were caught by surprise with Emmet, but they’re ready this time, in control of their emotions. Besides, although this demon is more horrific in appearance than the first, he moves so fluidly and gracefully that they have time to appreciate his design, the months of hard work which must have gone into creating him.

“You cannot defeat me or my kind,” the demon says, looking from one so-called hero to another, then beyond, to the crowd watching the filming. “We can go anywhere you can and to places where you can’t. We see all, hear all, know all. And we will kill all.”

A tall demon, pale red skin with lots of cracks in it, from which blood continually oozes. Dark red eyes. No hair or nose. Grey teeth and tongue. A hole where his heart should be, filled with dozens of tiny snakes. Mangled hands at the ends of eight arms. No feet, just fleshy strips dangling from his waist, giving the appearance of thin, misshapen legs. He doesn’t touch the floor, but hovers a few centimetres above the ground all the time.

“This is our town now, or soon will be,” the demon says. “There is nothing you can do to stop us.” His eyes fall on me and he smiles widely. “There is nothing any of you can do—except be slaughtered .”

Then he laughs and drifts back into the church. The doors slam shut. A boy in the group of heroes screams. Davida yells, “Cut!”

Everyone pours forward, cheering, congratulating the actors, remarking on how realistic and creepy the demon was, questioning how the effects team got it to hover so believably, what mechanics were involved.

But there were no strings or engines. It wasn’t a model or costume. The few doubts I had up to this point vanish. We’re in seriously deep trouble. The demon wasn’t speaking from a script. His words weren’t meant for the fictional characters—but for those of us watching.

There are real demons here. Emmet has been killed, and probably Kik and her relatives too. And it’s going to get worse. Because the monster who wowed the crowd a minute ago is the one who killed my parents and sister, who vowed to kill Dervish, Bill-E and me… the majestic, terrible demon master himself… lowly Lord Loss.

Incredibly, impossibly, Dervish doesn’t believe me.

“It was just another guy in a costume,” he says. “You have to stop seeing demons everywhere you look. I know—”

“Don’t!” I snap. I’ve got him by himself, out of earshot of everybody. “That piece of scum killed my Mum and Dad. He slaughtered Gret. Don’t tell me I could ever confuse a movie prop for the real thing. Don’t you dare.”

“Grubbs, I know this is hard, but you’ve got to believe—”

“That was Lord Loss!” I cry.

“It looked like him,” Dervish says soothingly, “but that’s because Davida did a lot of research. She knows what real demons look like. Actually, I helped her out on this one. She had some of the details wrong. She didn’t know about the cracks in his skin, the colour of his eyes or that he didn’t have real feet.”

“Really?” I sneer. “And you filled her in on the facts?”

“Yes,” Dervish says, trying to sound modest.

“And her technicians were able to make the changes—” I click my fingers— “like that? They were able to take elaborate, mechanised costumes they’d been working on for months and alter them within the space of a few days?”

“Yes,” Dervish says evenly.

I stare into my uncle’s eyes but I don’t find him there. The Dervish I know wouldn’t smile at me glibly like this and dismiss my fears so carelessly. Chuda Sool has brainwashed him, I’m sure of it. I’ll have to look elsewhere for allies.

“Where are you going?” Dervish asks as I turn my back on him and march off.

“To find someone who’ll believe.”

I ask Juni to visit Bill-E and me in our room. I say it’s about Bo Kooniart, that I’m having problems with her and would like Juni’s advice. Naturally Juni’s only too happy to help. Promises to drop by within the next half hour.

Bill-E knows something big is up. He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s delighted to be involved, proud that I’m including him. He wasn’t happy when I skulked around the set without him, not saying why, but now I’m bringing him in on the secret, all is forgiven.

I say nothing until Juni arrives, getting things clear in my head, deciding how much to tell them, what to say and what to keep to myself. When she’s finally here, sitting on a chair, hands clasped on her knees, I begin by confessing that I lied. “I didn’t really bring you here to talk about Bo.”

“I guessed,” she smiles. “You’re not a good liar. Which is a positive thing—don’t think I’m criticising you!”

“Before I get down to the crazy stuff, have either of you noticed anything strange about Dervish?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Bill-E frowns.

“I’ll take that as a no. Juni?”

She pauses. “I don’t know your uncle very well, but he’s seemed a little… unfocused recently.”

“You saw it when he was talking with Chuda about the search for Kik, didn’t you?”

“I saw… something,” Juni says cagily. “Dervish has been through a lot these last two years. The responsibility of having to look after you, the temporary loss of his mind, trying to readjust to normal life, the nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Bill-E asks. We never told him about Dervish’s bad dreams.

“He’s had trouble sleeping recently,” Juni explains.

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Bill-E grumbles.

“He finds it easy to share his secrets and fears with me,” Juni says. “He’s able to tell me things he finds hard to discuss with others. I’ve been trying to help him sort through his problems. We were making good progress but now he seems to have regressed.”

“Chuda’s messing with his mind,” I tell her. “Controlling his thoughts.”

“You can’t be serious,” Juni laughs. But her laughter dies away when she sees that I am.

“I’m going to tell you something that will sound insane,” I begin. “Bill-E knows some of it but not all. I need you to hear me out and at least try to believe me.”

“Of course,” Juni says, leaning forward, intrigued.

I take a deep breath. Glance at Bill-E, knowing what I say is going to hurt him, then launch straight in. “Demons killed my parents and sister…”

I fill them in on most of the details. My early encounter with Lord Loss. Escape. Madness. Recovery. Moving to Carcery Vale. The curse of the Gradys. Then the big one—Bill-E turning into a werewolf.

“So that’s it!” Bill-E cries. He’s trembling, his lazy eyelid quivering wildly. “I never bought your story that Dervish locked me up to protect me. I knew there was something you weren’t telling.” He glares at me accusingly. “You lied to me.”