Blood Beast
The master of horror returns with another spine-tingling adventure in the fifth title of the Demonata….Grubbs Grady has so far escaped the family curse, but when he begins to experience alarming symptoms at the onset of the full moon, he is scared that the jaws of fate are opening and about to swallow him whole.He has cheated death, defeated demons, moved on with his life. But Grubbs is torn between the world of magic and his wolfen genes. Can he fight the beast inside or will he fall victim to his tainted blood?
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First published in hardback in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrenâs Books 2007
HarperCollins Childrenâs Books A division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
THE DEMONATA BOOK 5: BLOOD BEAST. Copyright © Darren Shan 2007.
Darren Shan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007231409
Ebook edition © FEBRUARY 2011 ISBN: 9780007435418 Version: 2018-08-14
Dedication
For:
Mary Barry (my gruesome Granny), who overcame a much fiercer beast than any Grubbs Grady ever faced! Glad to still have you with us, old 'un!!!
OBEs (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:
Catherine âthe cut-throatâ Holmes Katie McGowan â there's a new killer kid on the block!
Mage superior:
Stella âthe gougerâ Paskins
Magical support:
Christopher Little's circular crew
Contents
DAMN THE SANDMAN
â My hands are red with blood. Iâm running through a forest. Naked, but I donât care. Iâm an animal, not a human. Animals donât need clothes.
Blood on my tongue too. Must have fed recently. Canât remember if it was a wild creature or a person. Not bothered much either way. Still hungry â thatâs all that matters. Need to find something new to chew. And soon.
I leap a fallen log. As I land, my bare feet hit twigs. They snap and I sink into a pool of mud. I collapse, howling. The twigs bite into me. I catch a glimpse of fiery red eyes peering up out of the mud. They arenât twigs â theyâre teeth! I lash out with my feet, screaming wordlesslyâ¦
⦠and mud and bits of bark fly everywhere. I stare at the mess suspiciously, my heart rate returning to normal. I was wrong. I havenât fallen victim to a monstrous baby with mouths in the palms of its hands and balls of fire where its eyes should be. Itâs just a muddy hole, covered with the remains of branches and leaves.
Scowling, I rise and wipe my feet clean on clumps of nearby grass. As Iâm using my nails to pick off some splinters, a voice calls, âGrubbsâ¦â
The name doesnât register immediately. Then I remember â thatâs my name. Or it used to be, once upon a time. I glance up warily, sniffing the air, but all I can smell is blood.
âGrubitschâ¦â the voice murmurs and I growl angrily. I hate my real name. Grubbs isnât great, but itâs better than Grubitsch. Nobody ever called me that except Mum and my sister Gret.
âYou canât find me,â the voice teases.
I roar into the darkness of the forest, then lurch at the bushes where I think the voice is coming from. I tear through them but thereâs nothing on the other side.
âWrong,â the voice laughs, coming from a spot behind me.
I whirl and squint, but I canât see anyone.
âOver here,â the voice whispers. This time itâs coming from my right.
Still squinting, I edge closer, towards the source of the voice. This feels wrong, like itâs a trap. But I canât back away from it. Iâm drawn on by curiosity, but also something else. Itâs a girlâs voice and I think I know whose it is.
Movement to my left, just as Iâm about to round a tree. Eight long, pale arms wave in the light of the moon. Dozens of tiny snakes hiss and slither. I cry out with fear and slam into the tree, shielding my eyes from the horror. Seconds pass but nothing attacks. Lowering my arms, I realise the arms were just branches of a couple of neighbouring trees. The snakes were vines, blowing in the wind.
I feel sick but I force a weak chuckle, then slide around the tree in search of the person who called to me.
Iâm at the edge of a pond. I frown at it. I know this forest and there should be no pond here. But there it lies regardless, the full moon reflected in its still surface. Iâm thirsty. The blood has dried on my tongue, leaving a nasty copper-like taste. I crouch to drink from the pond, going down on all fours and lowering my head to the water like a wolf.
