The Blood Line

By Steven Cook

When down and out Alistair Jude took shelter in an abandoned warehouse he expected a long cold night. What he didn't expect to find was the personal effects of somebody who had disappeared months before. What was stranger was the journal that explained what had happened to that person and the events leading up to their disappearance.

Alistair had seen the newspapers which described how the person had been attacked and mutilated, set on fire and left to die. The journal gave the chilling truth and their implications on family and friends.

He wasn't left to die, he did die. 

Alistair had sought safety and shelter. Instead he had stepped unwittingly in to the end stage of a battle with the Blood Line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steven Cook
• Release date: Oct 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386273264

Steven Cook

Steven Cook was born in Beverley in 1970, son of a Police Inspector and a school secretary. He attended University in nearby Hull, studying Computer Aided Engineering. Upon graduating he began his career in local government where he has worked in Planning, Systems Administration, Project Management and ultimately within IT as a Business Analyst. Although he has followed a seemingly regular career he has always enjoyed vanishing into other worlds and realities. Reading and role playing in fantasy and science fiction settings filled many a happy hour. Steven is married to Vicky and lives in Beverley, East Yorkshire.

Book preview

A brief history of me.

MY LIFE NEVER HAD ANY spectacular moments in it. I was born the second child in an average family. We lived in a nice area, midway between the council estate and the more affluent areas of a reasonably large village. My brother, who was a year or so older, and I were quite close until he went to school. I followed a couple of years later and had to cope with being the younger and quieter version of him. I suppose I was always a little in his shadow.

The catchment for the infants’ school mainly included the council estate and I was one of two boys who didn’t live within its uniform rows of terraces and blocks of flats. Me and the other boy, also called Chris, unconsciously stayed together, partially excluded as the others had known each other from when their mothers had met up in the local medical centre through the years, or at the convenience shops deep within the estate. The friendship formed in those first few days lasted forever.

Barriers slowly broke down, mainly due to the fact that there were very few boys of my age in the school year. We were outnumbered nearly two to one by the girls, and as a result we were incredibly wary of them. This continued into senior school where it was easy to spot those boys who were used to interacting with the girls on an even footing.

Throughout senior school I skirted on the edges of the In crowd. They knew who I was but rarely included me in their activities. I achieved reasonable grades and participated in team sports, getting into the ‘B’ football team. I was able to get good enough grades to stay on and do A levels, but the change in work methods were difficult for me, and I received poor grades in the final exams.

I blundered through a number of temporary retail jobs until I landed an administration job for the local water authority. This gave me more money than I had ever had before, and I used my new found wealth to get out of the family home as much as possible. This is not to say I didn’t get on with them, but what man in his early twenties wants to be seen with his parents.

My father was a mid-level manager on a reasonable salary and my mother stayed at home to look after my brother and I until we were old enough to be trusted with keys to the house. It was only then that she took an office job to give her some financial independence and adult conversation.

With her change in lifestyle my mother and father slowly drifted apart. I was always closer to her, and she doted on both of her sons. This may have been the root cause of their problems as my father was no longer the centre of attention.

His fondness for the social aspects of the local public house eventually introduced him to somebody with similar interests and he upped and left one night without warning. It was difficult to tell whether my mother was upset, angry or relieved. I was indifferent to him leaving as we never had any common interests. I envied some of my childhood friends for their closeness to their fathers.

With my brother Richard already married, moved out and settled with a new child it was left to me to try and look after my mother. She coped well and gained a respectable settlement from the divorce and resulting sale of the family home. She bought her own home eventually and at the relatively old age of twenty-seven I moved out into my own home, struggling to adjust with having to look after myself.

I had progressed through the ranks and moved to a junior management position in the utility suppliers and enjoyed a number of short lived relationships, mostly with fellow workers or people known of by my small circle of friends. My social events tended to revolve around my continued love of football or pubs, or in most cases both.

They say that everybody has their fifteen minutes of fame, whether it is on television, in print or through local folklore. I was no different except I gained fame in all three. However, I was unable to bask in my celebrity due to one simple fact.

I was assaulted and horrendously maimed in an unusual and macabre fashion and left for dead.

Day 0 - Saturday

THE EVENTS LEADING up to these events were the same as any other regular Saturday evening. I had spent the afternoon shivering on the exposed seats of the football stadium with some friends as my team abysmally failed to entertain the crowd and were held to a goalless draw.

The usual events followed; a dash home to grab a quick bite to eat, followed by a shower and a change, before heading out to catch the bus into my old village three miles away to meet up with the same crowd from the football match. It was the usual pantomime where we hunched around a table and tried to drown our sorrows whilst dissecting the performances of the guilty players.

There were the usual suspects out for the session. As well as me there was Little Chris; my best friend since infant’s school who was actually six inches taller than the rest of us and Mikey, who was a year older than Chris and I but had hung around with us since high school. The final member of the group was Dave who was five years older but had joined the group as I worked with him and his season ticket seat was next to us.

It also helped that Dave’s little sister Nicky worked in the pub. She was a bit younger than me, but as I was a mate of her big brother she’s always had that cute girl next door familiarity that helped overcome the normal barrier that came between me and the opposite sex.

After several pints of lager we began to go our separate ways. Little Chris and Mikey had the opportunity for overtime on the Sunday so bugged out first, leaving Dave and me. We shifted to a couple of stools at the bar to chat to Nicky whilst she served other customers.

Dave had another pint before he too decided to leave, stating his wife and young child as the reason. I continued chatting to Nicky, not realising the envious glances I was getting from some of the other customers until the landlord called for last orders.

‘If you hang on I’ll give you a lift home,’ offered Nicky as she collected the glasses from my side of the bar, laying a hand on my shoulder as she did.

If my mind hadn’t been befuddled by the beer I might have realised there was the potential for more than the friendship we currently enjoyed.

‘It’s okay, the walk home will sober me up.’

‘Don’t be daft, you’ll freeze to death. I’ll only be five minutes. Sit down.’

She hurried around, collecting glasses and smiling at me every time she passed. After a couple of minutes she disappeared into the back of the pub. I put on my jacket and loitered for a few more minutes but she didn’t reappear.

‘Looks like you’ve been stood up mate,’ suggested the last remaining customer as he placed his empty glass on the bar on his way to the door.

I shrugged in acceptance and followed him out to begin the walk home. Thinking back I should have slapped myself for being such an idiot.

With the last bus gone well before closing time I faced the three mile walk home between the fields surrounding the village. It was more than enough to sober me up and, as the day had been bitterly cold, a low lying freezing mist was hanging above the ground, slowly building ice crystals on the fence posts alongside the pavement.

I realised that my home would be just as cold as the fields around me. Being a house that dated back to the early 1930’s with solid brick walls it took an age to heat up, and took no time to lose the heat through the cracked windows and un-insulated roof.

It was my intention to replace the windows in the spring when the days were lighter and warmer. I looked forward to climbing into bed and burying myself in the heavy duvet my mother had bought as a house warming present.

In the meantime I had to decide whether to continue along the road, or to cut the corner off my walk by climbing the low fence and walking across the common land. With my common sense dulled by the beer I decided to save myself half a mile and carefully climbed over part of the fence that had recently had rotten wood replaced by new timber.

I might have been a bit under the influence, but having walked along the fence innumerable times, I had seen the poor state of some of the wood. I had no intention of crashing through the rotten crosspieces to land flat on my face.

Putting my back to the fence to get my bearings I started walking across the undulating field that was at times a pasture for a small herd of horses from a riding school that rented the land or a waterlogged bog when there had been heavy rain. At the moment it was as hard as concrete due to the sub-zero weather, and I had no problems setting a decent pace, although in no time at all the bottom couple of inches of my jeans were sodden from brushing against the mist laden grass.

I was starting to get invigorated by the pace I had set myself. It was keeping me warm and I had started humming a tune to myself, when a strange sense of foreboding settled over me. I paused in my stride to have a look around me.

The mist had thickened and limited my view to around fifteen metres, with strange shadows barely revealed by the light of the moon. I could see nothing beyond the indistinct shapes of the small clumps of bushes that were dotted around the pasture. I was about to resume my walk when I noticed a strange swirling in the mist. Looking around I saw a straight broken branch on the ground and scooped to pick it up. The solid weight made me feel slightly better.

The swirl of the mist revealed a small horse standing trembling, its eyes wide in uncertainty and fear. I relaxed a little.

‘Hello there,’ I waved at it, breaking through its paralysis.

It burst into a run, galloping towards me before swerving away to disappear into the mist. The sight of the wide, staring eyes and the blood flecked foam at its mouth caused my mind to flip and as it screamed in fear at the sight of me I turned and fled, plunging into the mist in a completely different direction to that which I had set out on.

The pounding of the blood in my ears seemed to be the pounding of the horse hooves following me. I ran as fast as I could, until a fence blocked my path. I stumbled to a halt, lungs burning and throat dry from dragging in the freezing air. I regained my composure and laughed nervously to myself. Turning slowly I tried to figure out how far I had travelled from my intended path. The street lights were nowhere to be seen. I must have run deeper into the fields.

I wasn’t too concerned. If I followed the fence to the left it would eventually lead me back to the road. I realised I was still carrying the short branch and was about to drop it when something launched out of the mist in complete silence. All I could recognise were a set of blazing eyes set in a pale face.

Instinctively I raised my hands to protect myself, getting them between myself and my attacker. It slammed into me, knocking me over backwards onto the hard ground. Breath was driven from my lungs and I felt one of my ribs break as I slammed into the ground, a fraction of a second before the branch in my hand punched through my chest and into my right lung.

The creature crashed into me, body to body, its mouth opening to lunge at my face. A gush of burning, frothing blood splashed across my face and chest as the branch jerked to a halt in the ground behind me, leaving the opposite to drive into the creature.

The darkness of the field around us started to extend into my vision, creating a fuzzy edge to my awareness. I started to have difficulty breathing. As I fought to maintain consciousness I focussed on the face of my attacker. I was vaguely aware of being surprised that it actually was human. The speed it had attacked me was far faster than I had ever seen anybody move. As we lay face to face, pinned together by the branch, I noticed pain cross the young man’s eyes. His white face in the muted moonlight made it easy to see a single tear slip from the corner.

He coughed, releasing another spray of blood across my face, catching me fully in the mouth. I weakly spat some of the coppery fluid out, but some of the hot liquid slid down my throat. His body shuddered at the effort, causing my body to respond in empathy as the branch transferred his suffering into my chest.

‘Four hundred and seventy years to die like this,’ he whispered slowly to himself, oblivious to the suffering I was in.

His body shook again and his head arched back in pain before returning to a level with mine. Another tear escaped his eye and sought a path down his flawless cheek. With detached fascination I realised that this fluid was also blood. As I attempted to draw breath into my shattered body I noticed that the body pinned to mine had stopped moving.

With my sight dimming and starting to become euphoric with the loss of oxygen to my brain, it barely registered that the tear slowly began to steam, then gave off a viscous, oily smoke before bursting into a bright, incandescent flame. It dropped onto my cheek, sparking a pinpoint of pain that merged into the rest of my agony.

The body of the man also began to be consumed by the flames that seemed to flow beneath his skin. His flesh and bones seemed completely different to the normal effects of fire on a body, offering no resistance as they caught with increasing ferocity.

The blood dripping from his mouth burned like oil as it dripped onto my face, running into my mouth and across my eyes. Pinned as I was, the fire began to catch on my clothes, eating through to torture the nerves of my skin. The body suddenly flared, burning my face and eyes as it was totally consumed.

Unable to scream my body contorted as the flames made my ligaments and tendons shrink. Smoke from the flaming blood and my own burning body entered my lungs, driving the remnants of fresh air away and releasing my body to blessed unconsciousness.

Day 0 Later?

CONSCIOUSNESS EXPLODED through me with a shattering crash to every nerve ending. Pain was tearing through every part of me and my mouth opened, emitting a sound I would associate more with an injured animal than a human.

I moved my head around to try and see what was happening but couldn’t see a single thing.

‘We’ve got him back, let’s get him stabilised then we can get him to hospital. For what good it will do him.’

The voice faded as my consciousness did.

Day ?

I REGAINED AWARENESS in pitch darkness. Every part of my body was screaming in agony at me but I didn’t even have enough control to open my mouth and scream.

There was no sound apart from my own strangely sounding breathing. There were no points of reference to give me an idea of where I was. My memory slowly returned, bringing back a cascade of fears and terror. My mind decided to protect my sanity and I slipped into darkness again.

Same Day/Night?

I WOKE AGAIN. HOW LONG had I been out? The panic attempted to reassert itself before I hastily reined it in. I remembered the fire flashing across my eyes.

I wondered what had woken me. I realised that the pain had disappeared, leaving my mind clearer. Then I heard somebody talking.

‘Jeez, it would be better if this guy had died. Even if we can save him he’s going to require a lifetime of care.’

I hoped whoever it was doing the talking was not referring to me! I continued to listen with detached fascination.

‘Alright, gather in closer. This patient is in an induced coma due to his injuries. He has three fractured ribs, one of which was the result of impalement by a branch. He has third degree burns across his head, torso and arms due to an as yet unidentified accelerant.

‘We believe he was beaten up and doused in the fuel before being set alight. He may also have been forced to swallow some of it due to the catastrophic damage to the throat and airway.’

I heard the sound of somebody retching.

‘According to records this is the greatest level of damage received by a person who has not immediately expired. How are we treating him?’

Another voice spoke.

‘Pain relief, intravenous antibiotics, steroids and plasma.’

‘Correct,’ confirmed the first voice. ‘And what steps will be taken should he survive?’

‘He’ll need skin grafts, facial reconstruction and optional prosthetic eyes. He’ll also probably have lifelong dependency on portable oxygen due to lung and airway damage,’ said a callous third person.

‘Is this the guy who was in the papers?’ asked a fourth voice.

‘Yes, this is Chris Taylor.’

My mind flipped again and darkness claimed me.

Later?

‘THERE’S NOTHING IN his records to say he has any allergies to penicillin but his system spikes every time we replace the bag and the cannula blocks.’

‘Alright, it doesn’t seem that he needs it anyway, none of his burns have got infected. Keep on with the intravenous plasma. If he carries on like this we may start thinking about bringing him out of the coma.’

‘Yes doctor.’

‘He’s going to be a medical miracle if he does. Don’t tell the family that he’s doing well, it’ll just raise their hopes.’

‘Are we to advise that they don’t see him still?’

There was a pause in the conversation and I could hear paper being flipped.

‘As long as they don’t stay too long it’ll be ok. Have details of the trauma counsellor handy if they do.’

One set of footsteps receded.

‘It must be an illusion, but you seem to be putting flesh back on you my friend.’

His footsteps faded as my consciousness did.

Day ?

I BECAME AWARE OF A soft sobbing noise invading the quiet and I focused on it.

‘It’s not your fault love.’

I instantly recognised my mother’s soft tone. Who was she talking to?

‘It is, I was supposed to give him a lift home.’

My heart leapt a little as I recognised Nicky’s voice.

‘There’s no way you could have known this would happen. Besides which he left on his own.’

‘I was going to ask him out,’ Nicky said abruptly.

There was a pause.

‘Listen carefully to me love. You need to forget about any feelings you have for him. He’s going to need a lot of care when, if he gets better. He wouldn’t want you looking after you just because you have an unfounded feeling of responsibility for him. As you’ve said, there is nothing between you, as much as you wanted to.’

Part of me was furious at my mum. She was ruining any chance I had of getting with Nicky, but I could see the sense in it. With my injuries what kind of relationship would we have?

Their voices drifted on but I was too exhausted to concentrate and fell asleep.

Day 34 - Friday

I’VE BEEN SLIPPING in and out of awareness for several days now. I wouldn’t say I‘ve been fully conscious, but I keep hearing voices talking about me and a number of others. The nurses, I know I must be in an Intensive Care Unit, have given me an insight into the passage of time by me hearing their discussions on events going on beyond my awareness.

They’ve given me several spoilers into TV programs I was watching, much to my annoyance.

‘What’s wrong with this stupid system,’ a voice asked with a hint of exasperation, focussing my attention.

‘What’s the problem,’ asked a second, calmer voice from some distance away.

‘I’m trying to get a steady drip into him but as soon as the flow opens it streams through as if there’s a vacuum dragging it in. I’ve tried three bags and each one is the same.’

‘Let me have a look.’

I heard them fussing around then felt a sudden burst of energy.

‘Damn, I see what you mean. I think we better put it onto an electric feed rather than gravity. There’ll be more control that way.’

The energy faded and I let out a groan before sliding into unconsciousness.

Day 36 - Monday

I’VE BEEN HAVING PERIODS of drifting in and out of semi-consciousness all day, if it is day as I’m not registering any light. People have been moving around quietly, but as nobody’s been talking near me it’s been a bit lonely.

I’ve taken the opportunity of this extended awareness to try and figure out what’s happened to me.

I realise I’m blind. This freaked me out at first as I’ve always been a bit squeamish and can’t even look at people touching their eyeball. Even on my organ donor forms I stated that the only thing they couldn’t use was my eyes.

It’s obvious that I’ve suffered serious, almost critical burns to the upper part of my body and face but they seem to have been healing reasonably well.

I know there’s a tube down my throat to help me breath, and although I’m aware of it, it’s not causing too much discomfort. I hope they do remove it soon.

I think they have blood transfusions going as well as saline to try and maintain my blood pressure. I can almost feel the blood flowing into me when they run them, and feel drained when they stop.

I’m not aware if anybody has been to see me apart from the one time I heard my mum and Nicky, but based on what I’ve heard I doubt anybody would want to. There’s been more than one nurse or student doctor who’s had to leave when they’ve seen me whilst changing dressings. Part of me thinks this is funny, but the main part is horrified as to what I must look like to give that response.

Whether it’s because I can’t see anything, but my hearing seems to have sharpened. I can hear so many conversations going on and it’s often people talking that wakes me up.

Another part of me is wondering whether I’m brain damaged as I haven’t been able to move at all. Hopefully it’s because they’ve drugged me to reduce pain, not that I’m experiencing any, rather than anything more sinister.

Whatever the situation, concentrating is tiring and I feel the need to sleep.

Day 37 - Monday

‘THERE HAS TO BE INTERNAL bleeding,’ a female voice pulled me into awareness.

Her words worried me. After all this time of slow progress they were only just finding more wrong with me.

‘Where?’ I felt pressure on my body for the first time, and a sensation of coldness moving back and forth across my abdomen. ‘Can you see anything?’

‘No,’ the first voice replied.

‘But how come his blood pressure picks up when he’s getting a transfusion but drops so quickly. And the rate it’s going through him is phenomenal. I’ve never seen so much blood being given to somebody without arterial injuries.’

‘Get another unit hung and monitor his blood pressure. I’ll speak to the consultant. This case is getting stranger and stranger.’

‘I know, he freaks me out!’

I wondered what she meant.

‘It’s certainly an unusual case. He was close to death, with practically no skin or flesh left. Now, without being fed he’s putting on weight and the injuries are healing. I swear there’s even new skin growing.’

There was a rush of energy to my body which I relished. As the initial burst flashed through my system I imagined that the darkness receded a little.

After a while I relaxed and slept.

Day 40 - Thursday

‘ALRIGHT, LET’S TAKE some blood and get it off to the lab and see if we can find out why he’s healing so well.’

This was the first time I’d heard this voice, and there was something cold and uncaring about it. It made me feel like I was a lab rat being prodded and poked.

‘Yes, Mr Elliott.’

‘And take some skin samples too. This could be an important breakthrough in treating