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The Impossible	By : sandyl666 Category: S through Z > The Saga of Darren Shan Views: 3621 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Saga of Darren Shan belongs to Darren Shan. I am not making any money out of writing this piece of fiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer: I don't think I would have let a certain character die had I been the author of the Darren Shan Saga/Cirque Du Freak.
A/N: A series of flashbacks for this chapter, because I don't want to over-do the summary thing anymore. Plus, one more chapter and we branch off completely from the original series. Well, sort of.
As you can tell from the title, I really don't like character deaths. I refused to continue reading the series for about a month after, er, some person died. (SPOILER ALERT!) I know that they're necessary, but I really don't like them.

Chapter 6: The Worst Plot Development Ever
We got to the fifth floor and entered the apartment. I did my best not to acknowledge the existence of the threadbare couch in the middle of the room. I went straight to the non-functioning fridge and opened it.
"Anyone hungry or thirsty?" I asked.
"I'll have a steak - extra bloody - fries and a Coke to go," Steve quipped. He'd made himself comfortable on the couch, and was smiling around at us as though we were one big happy family.
I ignored him. "Mr Crepsley? Harkat?"
"Water, please," Mr Crepsley said.
I took out two bottles of water, reflecting on how we'd gotten here.

"I tire of needless bloodshed. Shall we strike a deal?" Gannen Harst said.
"What sort of a deal?" Vancha grunted, trying to hide his bewilderment.
"It would be easier for us to slaughter you in the larger tunnels beyond this one."
"You want us to make your job easier for you?" Vancha laughed harshly.
"Let me finish," Gannen continued. "If we attack you here, our losses will be great, but all four of you will certainly die. If, on the other hand, we were to give you a head start..." He trailed off into silence, then spoke again. "Fifteen minutes, Vancha. Leave your hostages - you can move more quickly without them - and flee. For fifteen minutes, nobody will follow. You have my word,"

Ignoring what Gannen said, we took Steve and another vampet with us as shields, and ended up back here at our 'base'. Vancha made himself busy interrogating the vampet while the three of us waited in the other apartment. I tried to block out the human vampet's continuous screams, but had little success in doing so.
I took out some food from the fridge and made a hasty meal out of it for us. It wasn't long until Harkat and Mr Crepsley tucked into it and soon we were finishing off the last of the crumbs.
We ignored Steve, offering none to him.
As we were tending to our wounds, I put a hand to my neck, repeating an action that I'd done many times in the last few days, only to find it bare. Belatedly, I realized that I'd left the cross back in the cavern and sighed, feeling a trickle of regret.
Looking up, I realized that Steve was grinning at me mockingly. I stared back hatefully. "How long did it take to set this up?" I asked. "Getting us here, arranging those false papers for me and sending me to school, luring us down the tunnels - how long?"
"Years," he replied proudly. "It wasn't easy. You don't know the half of it. That cavern where the trap was set - we built it from scratch, along with the tunnels leading in and out of it. There's one I'm especially proud of. I hope I have the chance to show it to you some time."
"You went to all this trouble just for us?" Mr Crepsley asked, startled, but I wasn't really listening.
I felt woozy. Lightheaded. None of this felt real. None of it felt like a dream, either. It just felt... surreal. I shook my head, trying to clear my blurred focus.
Then I noticed Steve shrugging off his heavy jacket. Strong chemical odors wafted off him. My stomach rolled with nausea. I felt sick, thinking of how I actually liked that smell.
"He's not shivering any more," Harkat said suddenly.
"Of course not," Steve said. "That was all for show."
"You have the slyness of a demon," Mr Crepsley grunted. "By claiming to be susceptible to colds, you were able to wear gloved to hide your fingertip scars, and douse yourself in sickly-smelling lotions to mask your vampaneze stench."
My mind flashed back to the first time we'd slept together, and how he didn't take off his gloves, as well as when he had joined me in the shower, then almost immediately jumped out and put his guise back on. Everything was an act. A lie.
Steve laughed. "Tricked you all, didn't it?" He turned and grinned at me. "I'm surprised you didn't find out. Out of everyone, you were the biggest risk. The one likeliest to find out. After all, we spent the most time together in close proximity," He winked at me. I grabbed the empty plastic bottle near me and hurled it at him in my rage. He caught it with ease and set it aside.
"The smell was the difficult bit," he went on. "I knew your sensitive noses would sniff my blood out, so I had to distract them," He pulled a face. "But it hasn't been easy. My sense of smell is also highly developed, so the fumes have played havoc with my sinuses. The headaches are awful."
"I hope you die from a headache, you asshole," I snarled, images of me rubbing that lotion in his face appearing in my mind. He laughed delightedly. He was having a great time, even though he was our prisoner. I glared at him, knowing that Debbie probably wasn't having as fantastic a time. In fact, she was probably suffering greatly. I bit my lip, replaying the scenes in the tunnels, regretting that I'd gone after Steve instead of protecting her.
Steve was still grinning at me, reveling in my pain.
"You won't be grinning if R.V. refuses to trade Debbie for you," I told him.
"True enough," he admitted. "But I live only to see you and Creepy Crepsley suffer. I could die happy knowing the torment you'll endure if R.V. carves up your darling teacher girlfriend.
"How did you get so... twisted?" I asked, appalled and puzzled at the same time. "You didn't use to be like this. Sure, you were always pretty untamed, but not... this." I gestured to him.
Steve's face darkened. "I was betrayed," he said quietly.
I rolled my eyes and muttered a string of curses underneath my breath.
"How many times do I have to tell you this?" I asked him. "I didn't betray you! Why would I? You were my best friend. I gave up everything so you could live. I didn't want to become a half-vampire. I-"
"Shut it!" Steve snapped. "Torture me if you wish, but don't insult me with lies. I know you plotted with Creepy Crepsley to spite-"
"No, you shut it! I didn't even know the guy, why would I plot with-" Mr Crepsley lifted an eye at me but said nothing.
"I could have been a vampire, powerful, long-living, majestic!" he continued, raising his voice to be heard. "But you left me as a human, to shuffle through a pitifully short life, weak and afraid like everybody else-"
"There is nothing wrong with everybody else!" I argued.
"Then why aren't you one of them?" he roared.
"Because I chose to save your life!" I snarled back.
"Lies!" he shouted back. "You know I'd rather have been dead than have to endure seeing you take what is rightfully mine! Well, guess what? I outsmarted you! I tracked down those in the other camp and gained my rightful powers and privileges anyway!"
"For all the good it has done you," Mr Crepsley snorted.
"What do you mean?" Steve snapped.
"You have wasted your life on hatred and revenge," Mr Crepsley said. "What good is life if there is no joy or creative purpose? You would have been better off living five years as a human than five hundred as a monster."
"I'm no monster!" Steve snarled. "I'm …" He stopped and growled something to himself. "Enough of this crap," he declared aloud. "You're boring me. If you haven't anything more intelligent to say, keep your mouths shut."
"Impudent cur!" Mr Crepsley roared, and swung the back of his hand across Steve's cheek, drawing blood. Steve sneered at the vampire, wiped the blood off with his fingers, then put them to his lips.
"One night soon, it'll be your blood I dine on," he whispered, then lapsed into silence.
Exasperated and weary, Mr Crepsley, Harkat and I also fell silent. We finished cleaning our wounds, then lay back and relaxed. If we'd been alone, we'd have dozed off - but none of us dared shut our eyes with a destructive beast like Steve Leopard in the room.
As I lay back against the wall to one side of the room, I noticed Steve staring intently at me. It wasn't in a mocking way, but every time I caught him doing so, he turned away. I tried to ignore it, but it unnerved me.

It was more than an hour before Vancha was done. The dirty work had been done, and Vancha looked tired to the bone. Vancha explained that the reason the vampaneze hadn't killed us though they had ample opportunity to do so was that only their Lord could do so, or the vampaneze clan was bound to fail. It was, of course, another prediction by Mr Tiny.
"How come they didn't kill you?" I asked Harkat. "You're not one of the three hunters."
"Maybe they don't know that," Harkat said.
Steve muttered something beneath his breath.
"What was that?" Vancha shouted, prodding him sharply with his left foot.
"I said we didn't know before, but we do now!" Steve jeered. "At least," he added sulkily, "I know."
"You did not know who the hunters were?" Mr Crepsley asked.
Steve shook his head. "We knew there were three of you, and Mr Tiny told us that one would be a child, so we had Darren pegged straight off. But when five of you turned up - you three, Harkat and Debbie - we weren't sure about the others. We guessed the hunters would be vampires, but we didn't want to take unnecessary chances."
I tried not to feel offended that I had been called a child.
"Is that why you pretended to be our ally?" I asked. "You wanted to get close to us, to figure out who the hunters were?"
"That was part of it," Steve nodded, "although mostly I just wanted to toy with you. It was fun, getting so close that I could kill you whenever I wished, delaying the fatal blow until the time was right. Not to mention that," he grinned at me lecherously. "I got a kick out of doing my most hated enemy."
"I'll show you a kick!" I snapped, scrambling to my feet. Harkat pulled me down before I could do some damage. I just barely restrained myself.
"He's a fool," Vancha snorted. "Anyone who wouldn't strike his foe dead at the first opportunity is asking for trouble."
"Steve Leonard is many things," Mr Crepsley said, "but not foolish." He rubbed the long scar on the left side of his face, thinking deeply. "You thought this plan through most thoroughly, did you not?" he asked Steve.
"I sure did," Steve smirked.
"You accounted for every possible twist and turn?"
"As many as I could imagine."
Mr Crepsley stopped stroking his scar and his eyes narrowed. "Then you must have considered what would happen if we escaped."
Steve's smile widened but he said nothing.

I climbed through the rafters, stopping at a cell every few minutes, checking if my friends were there.
Thanks to Steve and his stupid - okay, it wasn't stupid, but it seemed that way in my rage - scheming skills, we got arrested by the police and were now suspects of the highest degree, presumed to be responsible for a series of murders done by the vampaneze.
Which is, you know, great.
At least Vancha had gotten away, taking the Chief Inspector with him as a shield.
I tried not to think about the innocent guard and nurses Steve had murdered in the hospital wing he was detained, having been our traumatised 'hostage'. I sighed inwardly, wondering where my Steve, the Steve I had known had gone. And wondering if I could ever find him again. I shook my head. He was my enemy. Enemy! I should be thinking of how to kill him, not of saving him!
But I couldn't kill him. I already knew I couldn't.
So what was I going to do?
I tried not to think about that at so crucial a moment.
I continued navigating my way among the rafters, deeply uncomfortable but acceptably so.

"When we venture down the tunnels tonight, Steve Leonard is not our primary enemy - the Lord of the Vampaneze is. If the chance to kill Leonard arises, by all means seize it. But if you have to choose between him and the Lord he serves, strike first for the latter. We must put our personal feelings aside and focus on our mission." Harkat nodded in agreement with the vampire, but I hesitated, knowing from experience that I couldn't kill Steve anyway. Mr Crepsley noticed my hesitation. "Darren?" he prompted, lifting an eyebrow.
"Yes?" I studied a spot on the floor, doing my best not to look at my mentor.
"Are you listening to me?"
I didn't reply at first, but then I sighed, knowing I had to come clean. "Before, in the tunnels..." I started, then swallowed a lump that had mysteriously appeared in my throat. "I, um, had a chance to kill Steve. But I didn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't." I started drawing circles in the ground with my index finger guiltily.
I heard Mr Crepsley sigh beside me. "I see. I suspected as much."
I lifted my head slightly to peek at my orange-haired mentor. He was looking at me pityingly.
"You did, after all, love him very much. Still do, yes?" I nodded. "But you understand that your feelings for him must not stand in the way of the mission?"
"Yes," I said miserably.
"And you understand that this applies to Debbie also?"
"Yes. But I can't make any guarantees... In the heat of the moment, my heart might control my body before my head does. It's been doing that more and more lately."
"But you know what you should do?" he pressed. "You understand how important your choice is?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"That is enough," he said. "I trust you to make the right choice."
I cocked an eyebrow. "You sound more like Seba Nile with every passing year," I commented dryly.
Seba was the vampire who'd taught Mr Crepsley the ways of the clan.
"I will take that as a compliment," he smiled, then lay back, closed his eyes, and rested in silence, leaving me to think about Steve, Debbie and the Lord of the Vampaneze, and contemplate the desperate choice I might be called upon to make.

Shapes of red, yellow and orange blazed before us. In the midst of it, wooden stakes jutted out of the pit. Any other day, I might have found it awe-inspiring. The vibrant colors dancing around the dangerous spears projecting out of the ground. But it's beauty was marred by the two black shapes burning in the middle of the pit. A heavy shadow of burning and death hung over the cave.
Debbie and Alice had left the Cave of Retribution moments before, Debbie too shaken to stay any longer. I wanted to comfort her, make her feel better, but I didn't even know how to make myself feel better. In fact, I don't even think I had accepted my mentor's death. I stood by the pit, staring at the flickering flames before me, willing the tears to fall. None came. Vancha and Harkat hovered beside me, worried and grieving.
Mr Crepsley. My mentor. My guardian. My father. And I couldn't even grieve him. It was like that feeling of nausea before you throw up. But no matter how I tried, I couldn't regurgitate my tears. So I was stuck with an intense discomfort within me, a feeling of emptiness and helplessness.
The cavern was quieter now. Almost all the vampaneze and vampets had exited. Only a last few stragglers remained. Among them were Gannen Harst and a grinning Steve Leopard, who couldn't resist ambling over for one last mocking laugh.
"What's that cooking on the fire, boys?" he asked, putting up his hands as if to warm them.
"Go away," I said blankly, "or I'll kill you."
Steve's face dropped and he glared at me. "It's your own fault," he pouted. "If you hadn't betrayed me-"
I swung my sword up, meaning to cut him in two. Vancha swatted it aside with the flat of his hand before I drew blood. "No," he said, stepping between us. "If you kill him, the others will return and kill us. Let it drop. We'll get him later."
"Wise words, brother," Gannen Harst said, stepping up beside Vancha. His face was drawn. "There's been enough killing. We-"
"Get lost!" Vancha snapped.
Harst's expression darkened. "Don't speak to me like-"
"I won't warn you again," Vancha growled.
The ex-protector of the Vampaneze Lord bristled angrily, then raised his hands peacefully and backed away from his brother.
Steve didn't follow.
"I want to tell her," the half-vampaneze said, eyes pinned on me.
"No!" Gannen Harst hissed. "You mustn't! Not now! You-"
"I want to tell her," Steve said again, more forcefully this time.
Harst cursed beneath his breath, glanced from one of us to the other, then nodded tensely. "Very well. But over to one side, where nobody else can hear."
"What are you up to now?" Vancha asked suspiciously.
"You'll find out," Steve giggled, taking hold of my left elbow.
I shrugged him off. "Keep away from me, monster!" I spat.
"Now, now," he said. "Don't be hasty. I've news I'm bursting to tell you."
"I don't want to hear it."
"Oh, but you do," he insisted. "You'll kick yourself from here to the moon if you don't come and listen."
"Go away, Steve."
For a moment, there was silence, and I thought I'd finally been allowed to grieve by myself. But no such luck, as Steve wrapped his fingers around my arm and pulled me away from the edge of the pit. I snarled wildly, and almost lashed out at my ex-lover, but the look in his eyes stopped me.
Vancha stepped forward to help me, but Gannen held out a hand to stop him.
"If you hurt her…" Vancha warned them.
"We won't," Harst promised, then stopped and shielded us with his body from the view of the rest when Steve had dragged me out of earshot of the others.
"We've come a long way, haven't we, Darren?" he remarked. "From the classroom at home to this Cavern of Retribution. From humanity to vampirism and vampanizm. From the day to the night."
"You dragged me all the way here to reminisce?" I asked disbelievingly, giving him a sarcastic look.
"I used to think it could have been different," he said softly, eyes distant, ignoring me. "But now I think it was always meant to be this way. It was your destiny to betray me and form an alliance with the vampires, your fate to become a Vampire Princess-" I winced automatically at that word. "-and lead the hunt for the Vampaneze Lord. Just as it was my destiny to find my own path into the night and…"
He stopped and a sly expression crept over his face. "Hold her," he grunted, and Gannen Harst grabbed my arms and held me rooted to the spot. "Are you ready to send her sleepy-byes?"
"Yes," Harst said. "But hurry, before the others intervene."
"Your wish is my command," Steve smiled, then put his lips close to my right ear and whispered something terrible… something that turned my world on its head and would haunt my every waking and sleeping moment from that instant on.
As he drew away, having tormented me with his devastating secret, I opened my mouth wide to shout the news to Vancha. Before I could utter a syllable, Gannen Harst breathed over me, the knock-out gas of the vampires and vampaneze. As the fumes filled my lungs, the world around me faded, and then I was falling, unconscious, into the tortured sleep of the damned.
The last thing I heard before I blacked out was Steve, laughing hysterically - the sound of a victorious demon cackling.

In my sleep I dreamed of a different world. One where Steve and I had never met vampires and vampaneze. A world where I wore a white dress and wasn't totally disgusted by it. He took away the bundle of flowers in my hands, setting them aside. Then I felt the unmistakable sensation of metal meeting bare skin. He drew a veil of white lace over my face, then kissed me softly, probably the first time he'd done so since I'd met him.
We broke away finally, and I rested my head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head.
I drew away from him as a small figure bounded towards us. Laughing, I bent down and picked up a little grey-haired child and kissed him on the cheek. He retaliated half-heartedly, but I knew he didn't mind as much he claimed to.
Before I could look into the face of the child to see whose features he'd inherited, he melted into nothingness, as did the man standing behind me. The beautiful white realm we'd inhabited was replaced by a land lit by fire.
I looked around and opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Behind me, a loud thud could be heard. I turned and came face to face with the Lord of the Shadows. He was everything I'd remembered. Scary. Frightening. Evil. He laughed at me hysterically as I gaped at him. A laugh that sounded so familiar it caused my whole body to spasm with pain.

I gasped as I woke up, deeply disoriented. My whole body was tense and sweaty from my nightmare, and I was panting. I glanced around, wondering where I was. Chandeliers burned dimly above me. I groaned and sat up, looking for a familiar crop of orange hair to ask him where I was.
Then I remembered.
I instantly looked to the pit, only to see the charred, unrecognizable remains of Mr Crepsley and the half-vampaneze. I clambered to my feet and nearly fell over again. Vancha and Harkat stood by the side of the pit, silently mourning.
"How long was I out?" I shouted, hastily lurching towards the tunnel leading out of the cave, but my already weak knees gave way beneath me and I fell.
"Take it easy," Vancha said, wrapping a supportive arm around my waist.
"How long?" I repeated, much louder this time.
"Three hours, maybe more," Vancha shrugged. I gaped at him. Then groaned frustratedly. With flitting speed they'd be halfway to the other side of the world by now.
"Why? How?" I sputtered. "The gas... It should have only knocked me out for fifteen or twenty minutes."
"You were exhausted," Vancha said. "It's been a long twenty-four hours."
I shook my head mutely, disgusted. I rubbed the back of my head. My neck felt heavier than usual. I looked down and saw my small cross hanging from my neck once again, a final mocking gift from Steve. I felt tempted to rip it off and throw it into the fire, but there wasn't much of a fire left to destroy it, and I didn't want to leave something of me and Steve with Mr Crepsley's burnt body.
I was only partially aware of what I was saying after that. That the man in the pit wasn't the Vampaneze Lord. That Mr Crepsley had died in vain. That the Lord of the Vampaneze still lived.
I didn't want to tell them the rest, not coming so hot on the heels of Mr Crepsley's death and news of the Vampaneze Lord's escape. I'd have spared them this extra blow if I could. But they had to be warned. In case something happened to me, they had to be told, so they could spread the word and carry on without me if necessary.
"I know who he is," I whispered emotionlessly. "Steve told me. He broke the big secret. Harst didn't want him to, but he did it anyway, to hurt me that little bit more, as if Mr Crepsley's death wasn't bad enough."
"He told you who the… Vampaneze Lord is?" Harkat gasped.
I nodded.
"Who?" Vancha shouted, leaping to his feet. "Which one of those scum sends others to do his dirty work for him? Tell me and I'll-"
"It's Steve," I said, and Vancha's strength deserted him. Slumping to the floor, he gazed at me in horror. Harkat too. "It's Steve," I said again, feeling empty and scared inside. Wetting my lips, focusing on the flames, I said the whole terrible truth out loud. "Steve Leopard is the Lord of the Vampaneze."
After that there was only silence, burning and despair.

A/N: A long chapter, full of lines from the original book. Sorry about that. All we have left is a brief description of what happened in searching for Harkat's identity (Book ten) and I can stop with the over-quoting.
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The Impossible