The Red Slayer

One of the oldest written stories is about a man in a cave. He spends his whole life staring at shadows on the wall and believes they’re real. One day, he realises the shadows were lies. He finds the real world outside and cannot see the shadows as anything other than lies.

The moment I open the curtains on Saturday morning, I look out onto a world I know has monsters lying beneath the surface. And one of them killed my mother.

Yesterday’s ordeal has set back my shoulder’s recovery by weeks. It smarts all the way downstairs until I try to open the fridge, where it explodes with so much pain, I have to hold it level in fear of it popping out again.

Dad offers me his England Rugby scarf as a sling and makes me an icepack.

‘Just relax today,’ he tells me. ‘You’ve been through a lot.’

Who am I to complain? I so rarely get a day to myself. I hardly ever get ill – probably because of my vampire DNA – so I never get to stay home wrapped in a blanket with a runny nose and fever. The closest I get are when my period cramps get so painful, I throw up. On those days, my room is my sanctuary. I stay in my pyjamas and turn the centre of my room into a blanket fort.

I have just enough strength in my bad shoulder to construct it and retreat under the canopy of patchwork, animal prints and Disney Princesses with my laptop and that strange envelope Sophia McIntyre gave me. I’m too curious to ignore it. The urge to peek woke me up a few times in the night.

A pair of stapled pages slip out of it and onto my lap. The first is a series of logic questions: the next number in the sequence, what shape comes next, if this does that who has the thing…on and on for twenty pages. It takes an hour to complete. The other presents a series of ethical scenarios and asks what I would do, (e.g. Kill one or kill three, save the cheerleader or save the world), followed by a Rorschach test. That’s the trickiest part. Besides the obvious Watchmen references, I only see black blobs. I stare at them until my vision blurs and I can only write asinine answers.

‘Two foetuses dancing back-to-back.’

‘Dragons with scorpion tails having a roar-off.’

‘A xenomorph’s uterus.’

I can’t think why Sophia wanted me to answer these questions. To check I’m not traumatised? That I didn’t survive on dumb luck? I’ll answer her questionnaires, but only to see what she wants of me.

I slip the papers back in their envelope and leave them on my desk. With that done, I switch on my laptop and round up my friends into a group chat. Thankfully, we’re all online at the same time.

Dante: Guess who’s grounded!

Me: Oh no, really?

Dante: It’s not too bad. Considering what could have happened yesterday, I won’t take my bed for granted again.

Luke: I know the feeling. It’s great to be home.

Olga: I’m grounded too. My parents are letting me use my phone but they took my laptop away.

Me: Did you fill out the questions in that envelope?

Luke: Not yet. I’ll do it tomorrow with my other homework.

Olga: I did mine last night.

Dante: Me too. Why did they want us to do an IQ test?

Me: IQ test?

Dante: Yeah. I did one online once. Can’t remember the mark though.

I begin to type, ‘I’ll ask my dad,’ when a message from Tara pops up.

Hey sweetie,

Can I come over tomorrow? I’m going to lunch with my dad. I think he wants to celebrate my being gay. I’ll message you when I get home, okay?

Once again, the reminder that I have a life outside of vampires and childhood trauma gives me whiplash. How many more times am I going to forget?

***

The week plays out like a good TV show that only plays the bad episodes.

On Monday, my still-hurting shoulder gets me out of P.E. When the girls start changing, one of Vicki’s friends shouts across the room to the teacher, ‘Miss! I don’t want lesbians staring at me when I change!’

A few gasps go up from the other girls. Some stare in disbelief. Vicki rolls her eyes.

‘Miss!’ the girl shouts again, waiting in vain for backup.

‘Get changed and grow up,’ the teacher snaps. Everyone else bursts out laughing.

On the way to the sport’s hall, Vicki walks behind me and whispers, ‘Sorry about her,’ then overtakes as if nothing happened. It’s more than a little perplexing. I’d thought if anyone would pick on me for being bi, it would be her.

Tuesday is an all-day rehearsal. Olivier’s always has school productions in the works. When you get to GCSE Drama, you do a play for your exam in Year 10 and a musical for Year 11, collaborating with the Music and Dance kids. The same goes for A Level. The aim is to come out of Olivier’s with tons of experience under your belt.

Us Year 10s are doing Pride & Prejudice. It’s practically a reunion of the Hamlet cast with Lewis as Mr. Bennett, Penny as Caroline Bingley, and Robbie as Mr. Darcy. Tara and I play Kitty and Lydia Bennet respectively. I could have been Elizabeth if I wanted, but Lydia is a blessing. In her shoes, I can make my mind as empty as hers. We’re rehearsing an early scene where the younger sisters are flirting with every soldier they can find and Lydia has her heart set on Mr. Whickham, who is played by Bradley. Whickham is meant to be Prince Charming in this scene, but Bradley dons a perpetual scowl every time I go near him.

His moodiness exposes itself as Tara and I are practicing a Regency dance and Bradley deliberately bumps his shoulder into mine. My bad shoulder at that. It explodes with enough pain to send me to my knees. I’m barely able to breathe through it. Everyone turns to see while Tara pinpoints the culprit with a death-glare. ‘What was that for?’

'She was showing off,’ he hisses. 'She thinks she’s so special.’

'She has a name,’ snaps Penny.

‘You know Iorwen’s got a sore shoulder,’ adds Lewis as he and Tara help me up.

‘You don’t get to hurt someone because they don’t fancy you,’ says Robbie.

Ms. Elliot steps in to stop the rest of the cast from turning on him and gets Bradley to step outside so she can tell him off discreetly. My shoulder hurts too much to go on rehearsing. The nurse can’t give me any pain killers, so I get sent home early.

That’s as active as the week gets. Bradley gets a detention for hurting me and no one in the cast will speak to him outside of lines directed at Mr. Wickham. No one else pulls any homophobic crap. Not even Whitman picks on me. The school must be in constant fear of discrimination lawsuits to allow intolerance.

***

Saturday, lovely Saturday. The best thing about oncoming summer is all the fruit that’s in season. I can have strawberries, pineapple and mango in a smoothie every morning and tear through a watermelon segment every afternoon. Elisa comes over that morning, bringing Luke with her. I can’t believe it’s been a week since I’ve last seen him. It’s never been this long.

The two of us go to the poolroom with our smoothies and fruit salads and sit with our legs dunked in the water.

‘Mum knows,’ he says out of the blue.

‘Eh?’

‘About vampires. She couldn’t tell me before because MI5 had NDA-ed her.’

I stare aimlessly into the water. ‘All of it? Including my mother?’

Luke nods. ‘Everything I thought I knew just isn’t anymore. Know what I mean?’

‘Yeah. The only way I could get through this week was pretending to be someone else.’

‘You’re good at pretending. But I suck at it. I can’t get that terrible place out of my head. What if there’re more?’

‘What if my mother’s murderer is still alive?’ I add. I shake my head quickly ‘We should bring Dante and Olga into this. They must have had bad weeks too.’ I pull myself out of the pool. ‘I’ll call him and you call her.’

‘Aren’t they still grounded?’

‘If they can’t come over, we’ll face-time.’

Luckily, both of them make it here before midday. Olga was only grounded for a week and Dante is dropped off by his mum with strict rules not to go anywhere else. I fetch us drinks and put a big bowl of crisps in the middle of my bed while we each take a corner.

‘I can’t believe you’re allowed to have boys in your room,’ says Dante. ‘I’m not even allowed in my sister’s.’

Olga nods. ‘My brothers aren’t allowed in mine, but I’m not allowed in theirs so…’

‘Dad knows we’re all friends here,’ I reply. ‘It’s not like I’d cheat on Tara. Never mind, that’s not important! About last Friday. How have you…coped?’

Olga and Dante share a nervous glance.

‘I’ve had nightmares about that cage,’ says Dante. His body seems to shrink, ’Being one of those trafficked women, and those vampires draining me like that scene in The Dark Crystal…’

We all shudder. That scene alone is why I prefer Labyrinth.

‘I’ve been feeling so useless all week,’ Olga frowns. ‘I keep seeing the three of you slipping away from me and I can’t do anything about it.’

‘It was best you didn’t get captured,’ Luke assures her. ‘It would have been—’

‘My friends were in danger and I couldn’t do a thing! All I can do is bitch about my Maths teacher who, by the way, pretends I don’t exist now.’

I gaze at each of them in sympathy. There must be a way we can stop feeling so helpless. I know the answer is out of reach somewhere.

We all jump from the sudden knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ I say with feigned coolness.

Dad pokes his head through the door. ‘We all okay in here?’

‘We’re fine,’ I reply in typical teenage fashion. ‘We weren’t being loud, were we?’

‘No, no,’ he replies, then nudges the door open in full to reveal a stack of pizza boxes in his arms with giant Italian flags on them. ‘I was wondering if you could find a use for these.’

Luke gasps in delight and goes to take them. Elisa also pops in with a two-litre bottle of lemonade and plastic cups. Dad and I share a meaningful look once I recognise the logo on the box. Russo Bros.’ Pizzeria. They made the first meal Dad and I shared when I started to escape the Hugheses. We’ve always considered theirs the best pizza in London. Russo Bros.’ pizza is our thing.

‘Why don’t you come downstairs when you’re done eating?’ Dad says on his way out. ‘I want to show you something.’

Once the adults are gone, we sit on cushions in the middle of my bedroom floor and tuck into our feast. Olga has the only vegetable one while the boys and I share the other three between us. With lifted spirits, we start guessing what Dad has in store for us. Could it be the results for the test? I never did ask him what they were for. Or perhaps it’s something innocent, like pudding.

***

Full to bursting with protein and carbs, the four of us trek downstairs. Dad and Elisa have left the kitchen door slightly ajar. I raise a hand to hush the others as their voices drift into the hall towards us.

‘It’s natural to be worried,’ she says.

'How are you not more worried? My daughter and your son—’

‘I’ll never stop worrying about them. But you couldn’t keep them in the dark forever.’

Dad sighs and I imagine him running his fingers through his hair. ‘I’ve failed her time and time again. She’s suffered because of my mistakes—’

‘You have to stop blaming yourself, Jason. Iorwen doesn’t hold that against you.’

My shoulders droop. Clearly, the surprise is not pudding. I roll them back with a sigh and walk into the kitchen. That way, they won’t think we’ve been listening in.

‘Hi,’ I say jovially. ‘What did you want us to come down for?’

Dad and Elisa exchange a final glance and nod in unison.

‘I’ve made a decision,’ says Dad. ’I shall be honest with all of you from now on. And I’ll prove it if you’ll let me.

That’s it? I was expecting a full soliloquy with iambic pentameter. Nonetheless, I follow him from of the kitchen with the others following closely, including Elisa.

I know where we’re going before we reach the top of the cellar steps. The door that has been locked to me for months opens with a swipe of Dad’s thumb against the scanner. We head straight on through the fake workshop to the bogus bookcase. It has a combination lock now and the code seems to be a random selection as opposed to Mum’s name in number form.

Once again, the lift opens and we begin the descent to the lab. I’m shivering with anticipation. What are we going to see? A weapon? A formula? I gulp and stop shivering. What if it’s more information about Mum’s death?

The doors part and the vast lab spreads before us. The only noticeable change is almost all of the workbenches are cleared, save for one closest to the far wall and its many screens. An old television sits atop it next to an old games console. I’ve never seen a cubed set with a domed screen and antennae in the wild before. You call that a games controller? Where’s the touchpad and analogue controls?

‘What the hell is that?’ I say.

‘An Atari 2600,’ Dad replies casually. ‘But that’s not why I brought you down here.’

‘I was gonna say, that would have been disappointing.’

Dad clears his throat and pulls up his sleeve to reveal his watch. With the push of a button, he speaks into it. ‘We’re ready.’

The four of us jump at the sound of metal grinding against metal. I grip Dad’s arm in surprise but relent once I notice the sound is coming from the only stretch of blank wall in this room. It slowly sinks away from the rest of the wall before sliding aside to reveal a black void. Sophia McIntyre emerges from it, along with the two agents she had chaperone us at Thames House.

I gawp at her while the wall closes behind them and she strides towards me with a confident smile. ‘Good to see you again.’

I say nothing. My shyness is too powerful. I’m just grateful I’m not filthy and dishevelled this time. She turns to acknowledge Luke, Olga and Dante before noticing Elisa. ’I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

Elisa crosses her arms. ‘You think I wouldn’t be around when you offer my son a job?’

Luke turns his head so quickly between Sophia and his mother he nearly cricks his neck. ‘Offer?’

Sophia nods. ‘I had hoped to lead into that, but I suppose it will save time. Yes, the four of you showed considerable aptitudes in the IQ tests you took. All were above a-hundred-and-thirty; no small feat, I can tell you. I suspected you were gifted to have survived a syndicate of vampires. We’d like to offer you other work. As MI5 agents, you would be valuable in taking down other hostiles across Britain.’

I’m as shocked as my friends, but for different reasons. I’m smart? Not just average smart, but smart enough to join Mensa?

‘We can’t,’ Olga says suddenly. ‘We’re still in school. We can’t even join the army.’

‘I can,’ says Dante, ‘But why would I want to? We would have been killed several times over last week if we weren’t extremely lucky.’

Sophia shakes her head. ‘I wouldn’t make you agents on the spot and push you into another nest. You need to be trained as much as any national service-person would.’

‘But what’s in it for us?’ asks Luke. ‘I’m all for fighting against human trafficking, but we came away bruised and traumatised and grounded. Why would we do that again?’

‘You will be paid handsomely for each hostile you execute,’ Sophia explains. ‘And there would be exceptional benefits.’ Her eyes scrutinise us, practically scanning our brains to find our desires. She stops at Olga first. ‘Perhaps the chance to take GCSEs early and move onto A Level?’

Then to Dante. ‘Or the ability to pursue your passions where you couldn’t before?’

Then Luke. ‘Or maybe an introduction to a prestigious field?’

I’m no longer shy when she fixes her gaze on me. ‘Or a career boost—’

'No!’ I snap.

Sophia raises an eyebrow, amazed at my ferocity. ‘Miss Davis, I—’

‘I don’t need any more privilege than I already have. I don’t want to turn around one day and find my career came at a price.’ I look to my silent friends and add, ‘I won’t judge you if you want to accept those perks.’

‘But, Iorwen,’ says Luke, ‘We couldn’t join MI5 without you. You’re the only reason we’re still alive.’

‘I didn’t say I wasn’t joining, just not for the sake of being famous.’

‘Is there nothing we can offer you?’ asks Sophia.

I think hard. I could have anything. They can’t refuse a human with vampiric abilities. What could I possibly want?

‘I want…to learn to drive.’

Sophia stares, bemused, at me. ‘Is that all?’

‘Not just a car. I’m talking motorbikes, quadbikes, aircraft, boats…And if I’m hassled by someone, like a sleazy producer or a stalker, I want your blessing to do with them as I see fit. I promise I won’t kill them.’

Sophia nods. ‘Can you promise no permanent damage?’

‘Does that include psychological?’

‘It doesn’t have to.’

I grin. We’re going to get along fine. ‘Then I accept.’

Sophia grins back. ‘The training will be intense, you know?’

‘That sounds like a challenge.’

Dad steps in, waving to get our attention. ‘I’d rather the training waited until Iorwen’s shoulder is completely recovered.’

‘Very well,’ says Sophia before looking towards my friends. ‘What say you?’

Luke stands beside me and takes my hand. ‘I trust Iorwen’s judgement. I’m with her.’

‘Me too,’ says Dante.

Olga shrugs and leans on one of the workbenches. ‘I’ll just be glad to get away from Mr. Bush.’

Sophia shakes hands with each of us, once again saving me ’til last. ‘Excellent. Welcome to MI5.’

She reaches to take my hand, but I pull away at the last second. ‘Wait! I’ve thought of another thing I want.’

‘Oh? What’s that?’

‘If any information about my mother’s killer pops up, I want to execute them myself.’

She nods. ‘Done.’

I nod back and shake her hand.

© Alice of Sherwood,