The Dark Detective: Venator Read Online Free PDF Page A

couldn’t hear the rumble of the Underground trains that were a constant background noise when you lived in London.
    “This place is weird,” he said in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper.
    Kennet led him through a warren of rooms, antechambers and winding corridors. Finally they arrived at a glass door. Beyond the door, Max could see the murderer that he’d successfully caught and seen convicted. Max was embarrassed to see that the man was naked.
    “What’s going on?” he said. “Why’s he here? Why isn’t he in prison?”
    “All good questions,” said Kennet, “and ones that deserve an answer. But I thought I’d show you rather than tell you.”
    Max felt the hairs rise on his arm. This was definitely not right.
    Kennet spoke to the prisoner. “Hello, Claude. Time for you to be repatriated, I think.”
    The prisoner turned his bored eyes towards them.
    “Chief Inspector, do we really have to go through this charade?” he said, his voice deep and well-educated.
    “Think of it as a learning opportunity,” said the old man, mildly. “And a reminder not to murder innocent people.”
    Kennet walked up to the man he had addressed as ‘Claude’. The murderer was considerably larger and heavier than the frail looking Chief Inspector.
    Max took a step into the room in case the murderer tried anything.
    But Kennet moved surprisingly quickly for an old guy, suddenly lashing out at the prisoner. Max was appalled to see the old man had thrust a small, silver knife into the man’s chest.
    “No!” he yelled, running forward, but Kennet held him back.
    Max was a policeman who believed in justice: this wasn’t it.
    To his surprise, the prisoner didn’t scream or thrash about, he just looked annoyed.
    “Oh, if you insist!” he said.
    Max stared with disbelieving eyes as the skin slowly peeled from the murderer’s body, leaving an iridescent purple monster exposed to view.
    “What the...?”
    Max was too shocked to finish his sentence.
    “He’s a demon,” said Kennet, his tone without emotion. “A Level Two demon in actual fact, but I’ll explain the details later.”
    He turned his pale, blue eyes on Max.
    “Evil exists in this world, PC Darke. Demons are real and living amongst us, peaceably, for the most part, but every now and then one goes native and then it’s up to me – and I hope you – to put them away.”
    Max thought he was going to faint. Perhaps somebody had put some hallucinogenic drugs in his beer. This couldn’t be real! Could it?
    Kennet smiled, a gleam of fervour enlivening his lined face.
    “I want you on my team, Max. I want you to join me in the Yard’s Demon Division. We’d manage the demon population – and hunt down the renegades. Of course, you’d be made up to a Detective.”
    He placed a firm hand on Max’s shaking arm.
    “You’ve got the nose for it – a nose for evil. You’ve got a special gift and I want to help you use it.”
    Max felt like he was between a rock and a hard place: he didn’t want this damned job – but how could he go back to his life knowing that things that hide under your bed at night, the terrors that live in your worst nightmares, that they were all real.
    “What are you going to do with him... it?” said Max.
    “I told you,” said Kennet. “I’m going to have him sent down.”
    The old man muttered a few words, closing his eyes and folding his hands as if praying. Max felt the ground tremble beneath his feet and watched aghast as a crack appeared across the floor. It widened rapidly and huge, purple flames leapt out. The heat was unbearable and Max staggered back. Kennet carried on chanting and the demon began screaming and tearing at his own flesh with long, scimitar-shaped claws.
    Fiery tendrils reached out of the chasm and wrapped their flaming tongues around the beast and dragged the murderer down in the depths of Hell below. A faint smell of burning flesh lingered on the air as the floor shuddered shut.
    And that was