Darkness Watching (Darkworld #1) (7 page)

“You both look awesome!” she said. “Shall we go?”

“Wait a minute, isn’t Pete coming with us? Where is he?”

“Probably gone ahead.”

“Or he’s still in the kitchen.”

Pete
was
still in the kitchen―passed out at the table surrounded by empty beer cans.

“So much for him getting laid,” said Alex. “Let’s just leave him here.”

So we left Pete slumped in his chair, drooling, and set off for the bus stop.

Danielle and the other Student Reps waitedfor us. Although technically we could do whatever we wanted, they’d volunteered to accompany us first years, sober, and make sure nobody passed out or got lost. This couldn’t have been a fun job, given that half the new students were already inebriated.

The rain poured relentlessly, the wind driving sodden leaves into our faces as we stood shivering beneath the poplar trees by the bus stop.

“Aren’t you cold, Ash?”

“A bit,” I said evasively. Maybe I should’ve worn my coat anyway. I should’ve guessed they’d notice the cold didn’t bother me. Or warmth.

“Let’s get closer together. It’ll be warmer.”

So we formed a penguin-like huddle, which didn’t really help ward off the raging wind.

“Jesus, Ash, you’re freezing!” Alex pulled away. “Your arm’s like ice!”

“Really?” I tried to shrug it off. “Yeah, it is pretty cold.”

So now I knew my skin temperature was normal under the circumstances; I just couldn’t
feel
it. Heat and cold alike just bounced off me.
It’s only a matter of time before they notice the other crazy stuff,
an unwelcome voice in my head told me.

Finally, the bus came rattling up the hill. In Blackstone, the bus drivers were more concerned with reaching their destination than with whether the bus was the right way up when they got there. The four of us took the back row of seats and spent the journey sliding into one another and onto the floor. I gripped the seat in front, but Alex kept knocking me over anyway. The winding country roads threw us into the air at each twist and turn; every time the bus stopped, it jolted me into the seat in front.

“You know, it wouldn’t surprise me if the bus driver was wasted. I swear we nearly hit that tree!” said Sarah, clutching at Alex for support as she came close to sliding out of her seat again.

By the time we drove into Redthorne, the four of us felt as battered as if we’d just ridden the Big Dipper seven times in a row. Redthorne looked like a typical urban area of dismal grey buildings under equally dismal rain clouds. Satan’s Pit was a plain, red brick building at the end of a street. Inside, nothing suggested anything remotely satanic, unless the red carpet in the entrance hall was made of human entrails or something.

“Seems a bit of a dump,” Sarah whispered, as we queued to pay. The guy behind the counter looked bored out of his mind, giving each of our IDs no more than a brief glance before stamping our hands mechanically.

“You never know,” said Alex. “It
might
be full of fire and brimstone downstairs.”

At those words, a chill tingled through me, and I felt a sudden desire to get the hell out of there.
Why did I leave the university?
I didn’t know for certain, but I’d concluded there must be something about the place that stopped me seeing demons. I’d never gone so long without spotting one of those sinister creatures peeking through a gap in the universe.

But I told myself to stop being stupid.
I’m entitled to go out and have fun with my friends. I won’t let the fear rule my life. Not at home, and not here, either.

So I paid the guy, got my hand stamped, and followed my flatmates through the black-painted double doors.

ppropriately enough, we found the dance floor downstairs, in the basement. I wasn’t sure if the thick swathes of cobwebs were an intentional feature, or simply no one could be bothered to do any dusting. Crooked candleholders hung from the walls, holding red lights, which threw eerie shadows around us. The spindly wooden staircase looked like it belonged in a crumbling old house, not a nightclub.

“I heard they used to have actual candles down here,” David said, “but they stopped because of the fire regulations.”

“Yeah, candles and drunken dancing aren’t a good combination,” said Alex.

“Can’t say I see what all the fuss is about,” Sarah said, looking exactly how I felt. Satan’s Pit reminded me of a school disco when only a handful of people turned up and everyone felt too awkward to dance. The few people here before midnight stood near the bar in groups, talking and drinking.

“Let’s go get drinks,” said Alex.

As promised, she declined the offers of cheap red wine, instead buying alcopops. An hour and a couple of bottles of WKD later, the atmosphere in the club started to pick up. Clubhouse music pounded out of the speakers and sent a ripple through the crowd; everyone swayed in time to the beat, arms aloft, feet thumping. The blazing strobe lights painted flame-like patterns across the floor.

That’s actually pretty cool.

“Hey, Ash, you never said your necklace glows in the dark! Neat.”

I looked down. The amethyst glowed, rivalling the bright lights. For some reason, I had the urge to tuck it away; it felt a little conspicuous.

“I didn’t know,” I said.

The DJ yelled, “Annnnnnnd… Satan has arrived!”

Everyone looked around. The music quietened, the clubhouse beat replaced by the sinister tones of an organ, like haunted-house music. Then a rope descended from the ceiling above the centre of the dance floor, and a tall, horned figure carrying a pitchfork spiralled down the rope to the ground.

The club went crazy. Satan, obviously a normal guy painted from head to toe in red paint, who’d probably performed this act a hundred times before, roared at the crowd, and, as everyone flocked to the dance floor, a sea of flailing limbs swallowed him whole.

“Let’s dance,” said Alex.

Usually, I wasn’t a fan of dancing, but, perhaps due to the fiery strobe lights and the alcohol buzzing through my veins, my self-consciousness completely melted away. In fact, I started to enjoy myself. Everyone seemed possessed with endless energy; I didn’t feel like one person but part of a laughing, dancing crowd. A fair-haired guy sauntered through the mass of bodies and took Alex by the hand, pulling her into the centre of the dance floor. She looked startled, but returned his smile, twirling gracefully as he spun her around.

The guy finished twirling her, planted a kiss on her cheek, and disappeared into the crowd once again. Alex returned to us, looking slightly flushed.

Another guy tried to dance with her, but, once he started grinding against her, she wriggled out of the way. “Get lost,” she said.

He went up to Sarah instead. “Come dance,” he slurred.

“No thanks,” said Sarah, backing away, but we were wedged amongst a crowd of people.

“Hey!” said Alex. “Leave her alone!”

She shoved him; he lost his balance and toppled into another group of girls.

“Suck my dick!” he yelled from the floor.

“No, thanks, I choke on small objects,” Alex shouted back, much to the amusement of everyone who could hear.

We pushed our way to the edge of the dance floor.

“Geez, they weren’t kidding about horny third-years,” said Alex. “Want to get another drink?”

My head was buzzing by the time we hit the dance floor again. I could sort of see the appeal in clubbing: it felt like being in a different universe, one with no responsibilities, where I could just stop thinking and lose myself in the rhythm.

At least, until a drunken girl staggered through the crowd, crashed into me, and nearly knocked me off my feet.

“Sorry!” the girl yelled over the music, trying to stand up but succeeding only in stabbing me in the foot with her heel.

I cried out in pain; it freaking
hurt.

“Sorry!” she said again. She looked kind of familiar; I wondered if I’d met her the night before. Her long, wildly curly, reddish-brown hair bounced around her shoulders, and thick mascara framed her brown eyes. Her off-the-shoulder black dress was of the sort I wished I had the confidence to wear.

Then it hit me. It was the girl I’d seen before, the girl in the car, who’d looked at me when I’d seen the demon.

I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again. I’d probably imagined it. Now was hardly the time or place, anyway.

So I said nothing and watched her disappear back into the crowd.

All the same, I couldn’t get back into the mood, and not just because my foot throbbed like a bitch. My thoughts raced, and, try as I might, I couldn’t keep them under control.

Could she really see the demons? Was it possible there were other people like me out there somewhere?

Stop it. Don’t get your hopes up, there’s no point. Even if there
are
people like me, what are the odds I’d run into them here, at one of the country’s smallest universities, in the middle of freaking nowhere?

Alex tugged on my arm. I couldn’t hear what she said over the music.

“Huh?” I said.

“I said, I’m going upstairs! It’s too hot in here.”

“Good idea.” Whilst I couldn’t feel the heat myself, the smell of sweat was almost overpowering. We fought through the crowd to the stairs and climbed them to the outside world, breathing in the fresh air with relief.

David turned to me. “You okay? I saw that girl stand on your foot.”

“I’ll live,” I said, examining the ugly purple bruise already forming. “Ouch.”

Then I saw something that chilled me instantly. Not two feet away from me―one of those dark spaces, a patch of nothingness, like a tear in the universe. I stared helplessly, waiting for the inevitable pair of malevolent purple eyes to meet mine.

But there was nothing there. Just blackness.

“Ash? What’re you looking at?” said Sarah.

“Nothing,” I said, tearing my gaze away. “Thought I saw someone I knew.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I continued to watch the dark space.

“I think clubbing’s kind of overrated,” said Alex. “Yeah, it’s fun for a bit, but I’d rather be watching a film or sitting in a pub or something.”

“Ditto,” said Sarah.