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Slave of Destiny

This is my first Fanfic so go easy on me.

~DISCLAIMER- I own none of the ideas in the intro and first chapter or the characters in the story. Everything belongs to Darren Shan~



Like I said in the beginning, I don't expect you to believe me — I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't lived it — but it is.

Every evil thing I describe in this book happened, just as I tell it.

The thing about real life is, when you do something stupid, it normally costs you. Real life is nasty. It's cruel. It doesn't care about heroes and happy endings and the way things should be. In real life, bad things happen. People die. Fights are lost. Evil often wins.

Again, I just wanted to make that clear before the end.

•Chapter One•

No hesitation. No pausing to pick my point. No cynical, memorable last words. I put my trust in the gods of the vampires and blindly thrust my knife forward. I brought it around and down in a savage arc, and by luck or fate drove it into the center of Steve's chest — clean through his shriveled forgery of a heart!
Steve's eyes and mouth popped wide with shock. His expression was comical, but I was in no mood to laugh. There was no recovery from a strike like that. Steve was finished. But he could take me with him if I wasn't careful. So instead of celebrating, I grabbed his left hand, holding it down tight by his side so he couldn't use his knife on me.
Steve's gaze slid to the handle of the knife sticking out of his chest. "Oh," he said tonelessly. Then blood trickled from the sides of his mouth. His chest heaved up and down, the handle rising and falling with it. I wanted to pull the knife out, to end matters — he could maybe go on like this for a minute or two, the knife stopping the gush of blood from his heart — but my left hand was useless and I didn't dare free my right. Then — applause. My head lifted, and Steve's eyes rolled back in their sockets so that he could look behind him. Mr. Tiny was clapping, bright red tears of joy dripping down his cheeks. "What passion!" He exclaimed. "What valor! What a never-say-die spirit! My money was always on you, Darren. It could have gone either way, but if I was a betting man, I'd have bet big on you. I said as much beforehand, didn't I, Evanna?"
"Yes, father," Evanna answered quietly. She was studying me sadly. Her lips moved silently, but even though she uttered no sounds, I was able to make out what she said "To the victor, the spoils."
"Come, Darren," Mr. Tiny said. "Pull out the knife and tend to your wounds. They're not immediately life-threatening, but you should have a doctor see to them. Your friends in the stadium are almost done with their foes. They'll be coming soon. They can take you to a hospital."
I shook my head. I only meant that I couldn't pull the knife out, but Mr. Tiny must have thought I didn't want to kill Steve. "Don't be foolish," he snapped. "Steve is the enemy. He deserves no mercy. Finish him, then take your place as the rightful ruler of the night."
"You are The Lord of the Shadows now," Evanna said. "There is no room in your life for mercy. Do as my father bids. The sooner you accept your destiny, the easier it will be for you."
I let the words sink in and I realized the inevitability of it all. Everything Mr. Tiny foretold has come true.

It was either Steve, or me.

I looked at Steve, ready to end his life, but I saw that he was opening his mouth to speak so I held fast. "I'll hell." Steve croaked and with a final heave of breath, as I jerked the knife out of his chest, he died. I dropped the knife into the river and let out a howl for my one-time friend. In Steve's final hour he died hating me. The one person he should have been closest to. The one person who sacrificed everything so that he could live. Steve died with wickedness in his heart and I felt hate burst into mine. The monster within me was growing.
Mr. Tiny chuckled as Steve died and then he spat in his face. "Now Darren, there is not much time. Come and mend your wounds before it is to late." I nodded and stood up shakily. As I arose I was suddenly alone. I looked around at the night. The silence was deafening. There was a pounding in my chest that sounded like drums banging in my sensitive ears. The pounding became unbearable. A white haze flashed across my vision, (which was another episode from re-blooding Darius), and I suddenly heard a groan behind me. Disoriented I desperately pulled the knife out of my stomach to defend myself. I spun around only to see the vampire prince, Vancha March, staggering to his feet. I let out a howl in the night from the pain I felt in my gut and I dropped to my knees. He looked at me with concern, but there was the triumph of our victory written on his face. He was totally oblivious to the fact that the end has only just begun. "Sire I'm..." Was all that I could get out before I blacked out from the pain