The Spirit, a darren shan saga/cirque du freak fanfic

Hey Guys! I totally wrote this a long time ago and just found it on the computer. I re-visited it and decided I'd like to see you guys thought of it. It almost made me cry so fair warning!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was a well known fact that when a Vampire lost his life in running water that person's soul would forever be trapped on Earth-barred from Paradise. That was how they knew Darren truly was dead. Even though there was no body, there was his spirit. His spirit that travelled through the water in the mountain, lashing out at random Vampires.

It didn't seem to matter whether the water was actually connected with the stream he'd died in. All that seemed to matter was that the water had come from it. Unfortunately, it was the only source of fresh water in the mountain. It became clear to all who dwelled within the tunnels and Halls of Vampire Mountain that Darren Shan may be dead, but he was far from gone.

The nature of his spirit-trapped as it was-became apparent on the first encounter with him. Mere hours after he'd been discovered missing, the search party had tracked him to the Hall of Death, where the stream was at its most powerful. One of the trackers had been standing a foot away from the edge when an arm-gray and wet-had swung up and over the side latching onto his ankle.

He'd let out a shout of surprise as he'd been jerked to the floor and dragged towards the water. The others had jerked forward to stop his descent into the icy water. As one man managed to stop him from falling in completely he'd looked over the side to see the boy they'd been looking for. His skin grey-like a corpse-, his body soaked through, there was no expression on his face and his blue eyes-once so alive and bright-were dulled and dead looking.

The dead boy-the spirit-had managed to wrap his grey arms around the struggling Vampire's waist and was pulling him into the rushing water with a strength he shouldn't have. It took five of them to pull the man back out. Once he was far enough from the water itself the spirit was no longer able to hold on to him as the pull to his grave over powered his own strength and he was forced back.

The group of trackers sat panting and gasping for a near five minutes, blankly staring at where the spirit had disappeared back into the dark stream. Once they'd shaken off the worst of their shock, they ran back to the Hall of Princes and reported the incident.

Despite the belief that running water could trap souls, no one fully believed them until another Vampire was attacked. Then another and another and another. The spirit was unable to take any of them fully. Nobody knew what he wanted from them. The more observant of the Vampires had quickly discovered a pattern. All those attacked had either been blooded by Kurda Smahlt or were staunch supporters of his.

"Do you have any idea why Darren would be attacking them?" Paris gravely asked the Prince-to-be. The blond man shook his head, his face sufficiently blank.

"There has to be a reason for Darren to be attacking our Vampires," Paris insisted and Mika snorted.

"There is no reason," he snarled. "He's simply the angry spirit of a shamed Vampire." Only those nearest him noticed the sudden clench in Larten's jaw. He'd taken to spending most of his time in the storerooms of the mountain, working alongside Seba. Nobody had the heart to bother the Vampire about his shamed apprentice. But they were not inclined to hide their opinions either.

That day, as the Vampires slept off the bitter and heated talk concerning how best to approach they're sudden spirit problem, Mika and Arrow walked the tunnels. Both were unable to sleep and had sought each other's company.

"What did you think of the boy?" Arrow asked his darker companion. Darren Shan was a common subject these days, even amongst them.

"I thought he had great potential," Mika replied honestly. "It is a shame it ended the way it did."

"Hmm," Arrow replied, deep in thought. "Does it not seem strange to you? How it ended?"

"What do you mean?"

"The child hardly seemed the type to just runaway," he replied. "And why was he in the Hall of Death? It is not on any direct path to an exit."

"I do not know, friend," Mika said, gravely. "Perhaps we had severely misjudged him. And it is entirely possible that the boy had gotten lost and accidently fallen into the water. I'm afraid we may never know."

Arrow didn't answer. He had stopped suddenly, his head tilted to the side as he listened intently. Mika quickly followed his example and soon he too heard the soft and steady, drip, drip, drip, of water.

"We are not anywhere near the stream," Arrow whispered. He spoke true; they were almost directly in front of the entrance to the Hall of Princes. There should be no water. Arrow moved to the left where the tunnel began to branch off. They followed the sound for a few yards until they came to water.

It was dripping from the ceiling, streaming from cracks in the wall, flooding the floor.

"Charna's guts," Mika snarled. There was a sudden grinding sound as the stones began to shift and suddenly the wall gave way to a torrent of water. It rushed towards them and they quickly turned and ran. At the entrance to the tunnel Mika happened to glance over shoulder. He saw Darren.

Their eyes connected and he was momentarily frozen by what he saw. It was not the look of a dead corpse as so many had started reporting. The teen was crying, a look of utter desperation on his face. His mouth opened and a scream was let lose. It vibrated off the remaining parts of the tunnel, and rattled the man's very bones. It was not the scream of battle or of an animal. It was a scream of despair. The sound of it had shocked him so completely he almost didn't register the words the boy began to shout at him.

"Lair! Lair! Liar!"

The Prince was shocked back to reality by a guard grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to move through the now knee high water, away from the screaming spirit and crumbling stone walls.

They had managed to collapse the mouth of the tunnel, blocking the torrential water. It still leaked through but it would have to do for the moment. The water had spread an impressive distance. The Hall of Princes had been flooded. It only went up halfway up the calf but it still caused a nuisance. Kurda's indoctrination as a Prince was to be that following evening. Despite the sudden flooding they planned to continue as tradition dictated.

Mika was distracted that entire evening as they went through ceremony after ceremony. What had the teen meant? Who was the liar? And more importantly, what were they lying about? He had not been the only one to hear the child's screams. The child had still been there-screaming- as they collapsed the tunnel. He could see those who had been there and they seemed just as distracted as he.

Larten seemed as grim as ever. Mika doubted he'd ever be able to move pass this. He'd heard that the two had been quite close, no matter how much Darren seemed to irritate him.

Mika was distracted yet again, as the doors opened to the flooded Hall. The Vampires forgot their march, their music, their ceremony. They waded in slowly to a sight never thought possible. There was Darren.

He was still wet, his bandages dripping reddish water. His eyes dull as he peered at the people entering the Hall. It was a sight many of them had already seen, but to see him in the Hall blocking the way to the thrones and Stone of Blood, that was another matter entirely. The water around him was red and gentle ripples moved from him to the surrounding water, as if he had just jumped in.

They stopped yards away from him. Nobody had the bravery to step up to him, and nobody knew what to do to make him move. Kurda came to stand next to Mika and the two shared an uneasy glance. He felt, more than saw, Larten move past them. Nobody made a move to stop the Vampire as he waded forward.

"What do you want Darren?" he asked quietly, though everybody heard him in the uneasy silence they'd fallen into. The teen didn't look at him. It took a Mika a moment to realize that Darren's blank gaze was fixed solely on Kurda. The child's lips moved but only a dribble of water came out.

Mika threw caution to the wind and he too stepped forward. He ignored Gavner's hiss of warning. He went past Larten, who had stopped several feet from the spirit. He moved to stand directly in front of the trapped, shamed spirit.

The darker Prince dropped to his knees in the water. It was a sign of submission that nobody would have expected from him. But he needed answers. He needed to know why the child was doing this. He needed to know who lied. He needed to know what that lie was. He needed to know what had happened between the time Darren left his room and the moment he drowned.

"Darren Shan," he began in a quiet voice, "you have attacked us. You have haunted us. You have committed acts of violence against your people. But I do not think that you do it out of spite. What happened? Who lied and what did they tell you? What are you trying to say?"

The silence descended upon them as every Vampire in the Hall waited for some sort of answer from the grey skinned, dead boy they'd once known.

The boy's mouth opened but instead of words or even a scream, a terrible chocking noise came. He chocked, his heads going to his throat as he tried to clear the water from his lungs. His eyes rolled wildly and those close enough saw the stark terror within them. Mika had the terrible notion that he was watching the boy's last moments play out again, for all of them to see.

The child fell to his knees as well and the two came to eye level with each other. Mika didn't know what to do for, once again, he was frozen, mesmerized by what he was seeing. Darren fell to the side, into the water, and disappeared.

Just as Mika stood from his spot in the water the doors to the Hall slammed shut with a deafening thud. The room went loud as those inside expressed their surprise and then silent as they looked to their Princes for guidance, Mika most of all. The dark man looked to Kurda, who had been the focus of the boy's attention for the greater part of their interaction. He had a sneaking suspicion but was loath to voice it. He wasn't sure what part Kurda had played, but he believed the blond had played a part.

He turned his back to the crowd and waded to the raised platform containing his throne. He climbed the steps and sat, looking for all the clan, as if this was a normal meeting amongst Generals and Princes. He laid his hand on the panel that should have opened the doors, but they did not open.

"Darren what are you doing?" he whispered to the water below him. It stirred. He saw Larten stand a little straighter. Then there were shouts of shock and horror as bodies-bloated and water logged-began to float to the surface of the shallow water. There were at least a two dozen. They were all Vamapaneze.

Confusion and panic broke out as people stumbled away from the bodies. Mika quickly became separated from the others by the floating bodies as they created a dead and rotting barrier.

But then the water stirred again and another body rose. It was Darren's. His eyes were shut, his body bloated and water logged almost beyond recognition. But it was him. Larten's face told him the identity better than anything else could have.

The darker Prince stood and stared in shock, horror along with the rest. It was then that his eyes caught Kurda's. It was then that he knew that something just wasn't quite right. It was then he knew that Kurda knew something about why this was happening.

"Kurda!" he shouted out easily gaining the attention of everyone. "Do you know who these Vampaneze are?"

"Should I?" he asked, trying to sound as ignorant and innocent as possible. Mika was not fooled. His deception was on his face. Mika had seen the small spark of recognition on his face before it had been carefully wiped away. He knew who these purple, dead bodies had once been. Which meant there was a good chance he knew why they were now floating, dead, in the Hall of Princes.

"You are our resident Vampaneze expert, are you not?" Arrow replied.

"I do not know them," Kurda said.

"Liar!" Mika snarled.

"Mika!" Paris admonished sharply. "You have no proof of that!"

"I have proof enough!" Mika snapped not bothering to say who had even given him reason to doubt the blond. "What happened to Darren Shan?" Kurda's brows lifted in shock at the sudden question but his pause was not long.

"I have no more information than you do," he replied.

"I think you do," Mika told him, his tone hard and cold.

"And why do you think that?" Larten asked, stepping into the conversation even though he had no place in it.

"I seem to recall that you left the Hall rather quickly after the boy's fate had been decided," Mika said. "You left much quicker than anyone else did. Where did you go?"

Kurda's face gave no sign that the Prince's question was bothering him but his answer did nothing to sway Mika's sudden suspicion.

"I went to find Darren," he said quietly.

"Why?" Paris asked. "You had no business delivering news of his verdict. That is Larten's right."

"I wanted to persuade him to run away," Kurda said and several Vampires began muttering. "When I got to his room, however, he was already gone. So I went to look for him."

"Did you find him?" Paris asked. Kurda gave a sharp nod.

"He'd left for a walk, to try and clear his head." Kurda's eyes bored into Mika's and the blond wasn't quite able to hide his contempt over the situation, if not the man himself. Mika had, after all, voted to uphold tradition and execute the shamed Vampire. "I found him sitting in a tunnel out of breath. He'd gotten lost and collapsed."

"How did he end up in the stream?" Mika asked.

"I wouldn't know," Kurda replied. "He slipped away."

"And you, with your vast knowledge of these tunnels, was unable to find him?" Mika asked, disbelief so very evident in his voice. "After all, Kurda, it sounds as if he could barely walk."

"Kurda," Paris said and the blond snapped his gaze towards the elder Vampire. "What happened?"

There was a terrible stillness. Every Vampire waited for Kurda to make some sort of statement no matter what it may be. The need for answers, solid answers, was nearly tangible it was so great.

"He saw something, didn't he?" Larten said suddenly and all attention swiveled back to him. "I know Darren better than anyone. He has a knack for having information he shouldn't. He saw something, didn't he?"

"Larten, it was an accident," Kurda breathed out, his stoic expression crumbling as the truth of the situation began to bear down on his shoulders. "He was never supposed to be in that tunnel."

"What did he see?" Larten pressed. Kurda looked at the floor and shook his head, unwilling to answer.

"Kurda, there over two dozen bodies floating in this Hall!" Larten shouted at the man. "What did Darren see? What did you do?"

"He saw them, didn't he?" Arrow spat out, jabbing a finger at the purple bodies. "Did you bring them here!?"

"Yes." The confession brought shouts of anger. Mika felt no relief at finally knowing the truth. The story tumbled out of the blond Vampire's mouth. How he'd discovered that the Lord of the Vampaneze had been found, how he'd led this traitorous excursion to try to force his people to avoid the worst of the war, how he'd found Darren in a near panic, trying to get to the Hall of Princes to warn them of the two dozen intruders lurking beneath them. He told them how he'd tried to convince the boy of the validity of his mission, Darren's staunch refusal to go along with it, and his desperate flight through the tunnels. He told them of how the child had tried to jump across the wide stream but his injuries had weakened him too much and he'd fallen into the water. Kurda told them of how Darren had refused to take his hand and had instead let the current take him to his death.

Kurda then told them of the guilt he'd felt upon learning that Darren's spirit was trapped in such a terrible way and how, even in death, he was still desperately trying to warn his people. The people that would have sentenced him to death over something so useless, so meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

"You would have killed him!" Kurda screamed at Mika. "You would have killed him in cold blood because he failed at the impossible task you set him! He sacrificed himself for you! He gave everything for you and you spat on his name!"

Mika did not deny it. They had spat on his name, said terrible things about him. He hadn't deserved their scorn and the only person who had understood that was the person who had deserved their scorn the most.

Mika didn't move from his stock still stance as Kurda began to move towards him through the water. The darker Prince was prepared for an attack, brutal and angry. The other had not moved two feet however, when he ran straight into the arms of the teen he'd tried so hard to defend. It looked like a hug, and maybe it was, but it was the last thing Kurda ever felt.

He looked down and terror flitted across his face. He began to choke and the knife he'd stealthily drawn fell into the water. The blonde's eyes began to bug out and he struggled for breath. A small trail of water dribbled from his mouth. Kurda fought death for minutes, and no one stepped forward to help. Those that had been attacked earlier also began to choke on unseen water. Within minutes all had dropped, dead, drowned.

When the light finally left the traitor's eyes the spirit released his hold on him and he dropped with a large splash. They watched the spirit with bated breath. He took on a whole new meaning now that they knew the truth. He had never run away, he'd simply gone for a walk with every intention of returning. Had he been given the chance this child would have accepted the fate they'd handed to him like a man, a true Vampire. If only he'd been given the chance.

In the time it took for them to die, Mika had rejoined his fellow Princes, unwilling to stand alone for this moment.

The harder they stared the more still the air became until a change came over the teen spirit. His skin returned to normal, the injuries closed and healed, and the hair that had been burned off in the Hall of Flames grew back. His clothes changed from the ragged and dirty scraps to the clothes he used to wear when he was human. A t-shirt and blue jean shorts that came to just below his knees.

Mika had never seen him look so healthy and happy, even before he'd been subjected to the trials. He'd taken a long and tiring journey to the mountain itself which had dulled some of his spark due to mere exhaustion.

Gone was the dead appearance. He looked alive again. He looked himself. Darren's mouth curved upwards and he broke into a wide smile. There was triumph and pleasure in his eyes. There was also something else that Mika had a hard time identifying; pride. Despite everything they had put him through, Darren was proud to be one of them, Mika was sure of it.

The sound of the boy's laugh, joyous and heartfelt, shook even the staunchest of Vampires. It was in that moment that Mika truly understood why Larten had done what he did. There was something almost magical about this child.

His loyalty, his pride, his strength. They would have made him a great Vampire, perhaps the one of the greatest if he'd been able to grow and mature. Darren was more than that, however. He could just have as easily attacked any of them for what they'd done to him. But he hadn't. A few days after he'd been pronounced dead, Larten had said that the boy had the biggest heart of them all and for him to attack someone meant something very terrible had happened.

Mika had brushed it aside at first but in light of recent events he was beginning to understand. Darren knew they would have killed him simply because tradition said to, and still he'd fought tooth and nail to save them all. The depth of his ability to forgive shook Mika to his core. Because he knew. He knew they hadn't deserved that forgiveness but Darren understood them for what they were and forgave them for it.

The teen opened his arms wide and fell back into the water, laughing a joyous and carefree laugh. It reverberated off the walls as the water began to drain from the Hall into some unseen drain, taking with it the bodies of the intruders and traitors, and even his own. They did not know where Darren took the bodies nor did they care. They were gone and that was all that mattered.

A shout came from the crowd as the spirit's laughter died. It was the shout of victorious warriors after they won some important battle. And even though it was not a battle they had fought together, it was a shared victory. The clan was safe for the moment, saved from utter destruction from within.

They gave the teen an honorable funeral even though they did not have his body. It was a funeral befitting a Prince and they even bestowed the title to him, even though it would never be official. They did it to erase whatever black mark may have remained on his name for failing the trials. It was a small consolation but it was enough for them.

There was nothing they could do to free his soul from the stream and so they honored him in any way they could.

The war began and many died in battle. It continued for years, influenced by Tiny's ministrations. The final battle came inside the Mountain itself, in the Hall of Death. The Lord of the Vampaneze had found a way to get his soldiers inside and the ensuing fight had been the most brutal any would ever see.

It was Larten who had fought the young man in the Hall of Death, trying to maneuver him towards the stream. The Vampire had not expected the blade to his shoulder driven in from behind by a Vampet. He'd collapsed to the ground as the human twisted it, causing severe pain.

Mika was unable to reach him, but in the end it hadn't mattered. For out of the depths of the killer water came a face they hadn't seen in years. He reached over the side and grabbed the man's ankle. Using supernatural strength Darren dragged the young Vampaneze Lord into the water. He drowned.

The stream had swelled up and over the side spilling onto the cavern floor. Enemy after enemy fell to what could only be described as Darren's wrath at their daring to invade Vampire Mountain. With the help of the spirit the Vampires were able to fight off the remnants of the enemy army. In the end the Vampires won the war.

Mika had been shocked to hear that the Lord of the Vampaneze had been the very same friend Darren had sacrificed his humanity for. It seemed fitting that it was Darren who killed him. He had saved the boy's life and when his deed had been spat upon, he'd been the one to take that life back. It was rightfully his to take.

Larten took over as Quartermaster after Seba's death. Eventually, his contemporaries met their end leaving him behind to watch the newest generation grow and prosper. Larten no longer fit into the typical Vampire mold, and with each new Vampire that asked why the story was told again.

Many times it was Larten who told the tale of what had happened to his young apprentice, the only one he'd ever taken on. He told Vampires visiting the Mountain for the first time why they heard laughter coming from the stream. He told them about a boy with the biggest heart and the bravest soul of any Vampire to ever be blooded.

Five hundred years later and the orange haired Quartermaster was still alive. He was the oldest in those days and the last living witness to Darren's life. It seemed fitting that he was the last to go. He'd wanted to die for a long time but had been unable to tear himself away from that stream long enough to meet his end.

The younger Vampires talked about him. He fascinated them for they could not understand why he would sit beside the stream and talk to it. It was rare to have encounter with Darren these days, for these were days of peace. But those did have an encounter never laughed or joked at the supposed senile, old Quartermaster.

The day Larten died was a humble day. He was the last veteran of the War of the Scars. They found his body only after the stream had flushed it out of the Mountain. He'd thrown himself in and in his old age he had not survived the trip down.

Those who had seen Darren with their own eyes believed he had killed himself in the stream to purposefully trap his soul. They believed he hadn't wanted to enter Paradise without the dead child. The child he held so dear to his heart. The child he would talk to on a regular basis even if he wasn't near the stream and no matter how crazy it made him look.

As the story continued through the ages it became a legend. And as all stories do, it changed with time. They were father and son; torn apart by a tradition neither one of them would renounce. For they were true Vampires, and they knew and understood and upheld everything that went along with that.

Darren Shan passed into being a fabled hero. Always there and never forgotten.

Well there it is. I hope you enjoyed and please review.

I haven't decided if I'm going to do anymore with this. I'd kind of like to see a scene where Darren and Larten talk. Idk, let me know. If you have a scene you'd like to see, don't hesitate to ask.