Her Vampyrrhic Heart by Simon Clark

don’t even know her name, other than it’s Mrs Bekk. She disowned her son when he moved away. Something to do with betraying family heritage.’
    â€˜I heard plenty about family heritage from Mrs Bekk. She’d got totally obsessive about tracing the Bekk bloodline back to Viking settlers over a thousand years ago.’
    A dead sheep lay at the side of the path. An open eye glinted in the light of the torch. Tom caught sight of teeth marks on its throat. No blood, though. He knew that not a drop of blood would be found on the animal. A hungry tongue would have licked the wound clean.
    June followed him along the path, which hugged the course of the river. Down here the rapids sounded loud. Light from the torch splashed against the water, revealing a spot where it foamed round boulders.
    â€˜Tom? How did you come to live in Skanderberg?’
    â€˜I rebuilt it after the fire.’
    â€˜What fire?’
    â€˜It might seem like bad manners, but I don’t really want to talk. What’s important right now is getting you back to your car.’
    â€˜Wild boar might eat us?’
    â€˜Yeah, something like that.’
    â€˜I was joking, Tom.’
    â€˜Stick to the right of the path. It gets swampy on the other side.’
    June Valko fell silent. He took this to mean she’d got the hint about closing her mouth and carrying on walking. However, just the tone of her voice when she spoke a moment later sent shivers down his spine.
    â€˜Tom … I’ve just seen a man.’
    â€˜Keep walking.’
    â€˜He’s over there by the big rock.’
    â€˜Don’t look at him.’
    â€˜
But he’s looking at me.
’
    â€˜He won’t hurt you, June. But whatever you do, don’t stop.’
    â€˜Tom, you’re frightening me.’
    â€˜Hold my hand.’
    He gripped her hand fiercely enough to make her gasp. Tom Westonby didn’t do this to reassure her; he’d seized her hand so he could keep her moving forward.
    â€˜Why is he staring at us?’ she whispered. ‘Look at him. He’s just standing there like a statue. But … oh my God … can you see his eyes? His eyes are like—’
    â€˜I told you not to look at him.’
    â€˜Tom.’ She sounded alarmed. ‘There’s something wrong with his face.’
    He tugged her by the hand as if she was a child who dragged its feet. ‘Come on, walk faster.’
    â€˜Why’s he out here at night?’
    â€˜June, he won’t hurt you. Not if you keep walking and don’t look back.’
    She hissed, ‘But his face is so strange … my God, it’s scaring me just to look at it.’
    â€˜I told you not to look back.’
    June Valko did more than just look back. She raised the electric lantern she carried. The light fell on the strange figure that stood, as still as a statue, perhaps thirty paces away.
    â€˜His feet?’ she gasped. ‘It’s winter … he hasn’t got any shoes on his feet. They’re bare.’
    She tilted the lamp so its rays would illuminate the stranger’s face. Before she could get a clear look at that face, with its staring eyes, Tom knocked the lantern from her hand.
    â€˜Ow!’
    â€˜Come on.’ He hauled her so forcefully that she cried out again in pain.
    â€˜I’m not afraid of him,’ she cried. ‘Give me the flashlight. I want to see his face.’
    â€˜This might seem brutal, but the last thing you’d want to see is that thing’s face.’
    â€˜
Thing? It’s a man, not a thing.
’
    â€˜Hurry up.’
    â€˜Stop! You’re hurting me!’
    That’s when the silent figure moved. And, dear God, it moved so fast. Tom didn’t even have time to react before the figure slammed into him. He tumbled down the river bank. Seconds later, a hand grabbed his hair. An enormous force pressed his face down into the water at the river’s edge.