The Military Police organized them into a lose formation with both soldiers standing on either side of them and them loosely bunched together in the middle. The soldiers began walking, their pace deliberate and careful.

"Please, tell him not to record video till we arrive," the one who Tasha guessed was Abbas told her. But Kenneth had already gotten the message. His phone was back in his pocket and he smiled placatingly. The onward march continued in silence.

"This is roughly the same route the blood-lorries follow. So, you can see the tracks in the road, yes?" Ivan asked in Russian.

Tasha nodded. "Sir, why didn't we continue in the van?"

"Order from above," Abbas side ruefully. "Vamps might think we're trying to fuck them over. Best not to create impressions like that, no?"

"They don't like moving metal. Unless it's got blood in it," Ivan said.

The landscape was beginning to morph around them. The dry scrubland was giving way to patches of yellow grass. Winter flowers bloomed, tiny and transient. Pine trees began to loom in the distance. The sun grew brighter and more overcast. The brown rocky hills that formed a natural wall along the southern coast were becoming starker in relief against the clear blue sky.

"There's supposed to be an access point over there, somewhere. We've honestly never been out here this early," Abbas said, sweat glistening from his bald head.

"Ask them how much further," Al grunted from behind her.

"They're saying it's almost there," she replied, looking straight ahead. They kept walking for another ten minutes, the landscape still beautiful if a little rockier. There was still no sign of any civilization. They finally stopped in front of a clear patch of grass.

"They give you that digital shit for this?" Abbas asked.

Ivan shook his head. "Dog whistle," He opened out his rucksack and pulled out something that looked like a wide French horn.

"Not doing anything more than cattle herding here, are we? No offence," Abbas turned and winked at Tasha while the others stood, shifting and looking confused.

"None taken," Tasha replied. "Why've we stopped?"

"Because we're here," Ivan replied, bending down and peeling the grass away like a carpet. A wooden trap door lay below it and he tugged at it, dislodging loose earth. It fell open with a thump and that thump echoed through a long, vertical tunnel underneath. Ivan bent down over it with his French horn and blew out. None of them heard anything other than a faint rumble.

And then a response, raspy, inhuman and in Arabic. "Down."

The four of them looked at each other.

"Okay," Abbas said. "I go first. Then lady who speaks Arabic. Then others. Then Ivan."

"Okay," Tasha said and got up next to him. She felt something settle inside her when she heard that voice. It wasn't probably what everyone else was feeling. It wasn't fear of the unknown. At least, not entirely unknown. She remembered that bus from all those years ago, standing behind Inspector Tasimov as he shouted at a keeling, screaming thing on the ground. That sort of voice was not supposed to speak human tongues. It seemed almost sacrilegious.

"Come now," Abbas said after he had gone down a few steps down a ladder. Tasha followed him, finding purchase with her feet in the dark and taking one step at a time. She felt Abbas gently pat her hand in the pitch blackness and she took it, letting him ease her off the ladder and on to the cave floor.

"Next," he shouted up. "I will get light, wait."

He opened his rucksack and pulled and electric light out. He switched it on and the cave around them became illuminated, narrow and long. Someone had to have constructed this, Tasha thought. Then, she saw the figure in the distance.

It was standing perfectly still, short and humanoid with long fingers that seemed almost to touch the floor. It wasn't moving. Tasha gulped. She began to taste things in the air.

Something primordial was being supressed in front of her. This thing wanted to kill her and eat her in the core of its being. There was also a burning curiosity. There was also delight. She watched the little thing move its fingers around in the air, watching her back. She heard the steps of the others as they came down behind them and the rapid intake of their breaths as they saw what she saw.

"What the fuck is that?" Ivan asked in a whisper. "That's not supposed to be here."

Abbas didn't say anything, only looking ahead.

Once all of them had assembled down, it began walking towards them, its steps tapping against the cold stone floor and creating loud echoes.

Details began to become visible as it came closer. Webbed, pointed ears. A smooth, bald head and white, albino skin. It was much taller than she had perceived it to be and it began to tower over them as it approached. It was completely naked and entirely sexless. Its face looked like a ghastly appropriation of humanity, it's mouth pulled tight in a wide smile, revealing catlike teeth. Its eyes were rheumy and wide.

"Hello," it said in Arabic. Tasha stared back, spellbound. One of the guards patted her.

"Good morning," she managed to mutter.

"Good morning, thanks be to-

It coughed a little where the Allah should have been.

"I'm Natasha," Tasha said. "What is your name?"

"I am two hundred one aspect of orange," it said. Its voice was calculated and devoid of moisture. Tasha looked back at it, confused.

"Feel? I am two hundred feel of orange?" Its voice curled upwards, like as if it were asking a question.

"What's he saying?" Kenneth asked from behind her.

"He says his name is the two hundred and first aspect or feeling of Orange," she whispered.

"Yeah, they don't have names like we do," Helen said. "Ask him what he wants us to call him."

"What do you want us to call you?" Tasha asked. She was almost in a trance, doing what was asked of her and unable to even come to grips with the fear she was feeling. It wasn't fear of this thing. It was a premonition. It was chemically exuding so much joy it almost made her stomach turn.

"My brood siblings are all orange. Call me two hundred one. You are word changer?" It cocked its head to the right, considering her.

"Yes, I am." Tasha replied.

"You know words of west also? You know words of Kruv?"

"Yes, I know the words of Kruv."

"And you know words of Bush isgonna friggikill us, do you?"

The words were obviously English and hushed, whispered conversations began behind her. "What did he just say?" Helen asked, her voice urgent.

"Do I know the language of and then whatever it said in English at the end." Tasha replied.

"What does that mean?"

"I think he's asking if you know English," Al said. He sounded humbled. Reverential, almost.

"Yes, I do know those words," Tasha said and she felt something cold go up her spine as waves of joy oozed out of it, hitting her and probably everyone else. "Are you Octopus?"

"Do you know it? Do you really know it?" It asked, its voice perfectly devoid of emotion. But the chemicals and waves in the air were doing double duty for any possible lack of feeling in its voice. Disbelief and elation.

"Madam," Abbas whispered. "This is not one of the operatives we deal with for the blood transfers. It's not supposed to be here."

"Keep talking, Natasha," Kenneth hissed from behind her. She turned to Abbas who shrugged.

"Yes, I do."

The thing fell down on its knees and opened its mouth, dangling out a probing, forked tongue. It keeled into the air, emitting sounds none of them could hear but every one of them could feel.

"No." The word drawled out of Tasha's mouth in her Native Kruv dialect Russian. Abbas and Ivan snapped into action, raising their guns.

"Wait, what? What's happening?" Kenneth shouted.

The haemophage looked back up at them, licking its lips.

"It's calling its brood," Tasha moaned. Every defence class she ever attended seemed to flash past her eyes. Every session with the Inspector as he told them what to look out for. This was the most unbelievable stupid thing anyone could have ever done.

More of them came up from behind it, all looking more or less the same. They advanced on them, an army of the undead. She heard a clank as someone began scrambling for the ladder.

The Military Police shot at a couple of them, deterring a couple of them. There were around seven.

"You will teach us Bush isgonna frigkill us, Natasha. Or we kill your brood." Ivan was pulled into the huddle, two of them attending to him. Abbas threw his gun down and raised his hands, screaming. The first one, the two hundred and first aspect of orange stepped in front of her and grabbed her chin in a vice grip. It was only about her height but it managed to raise her up in the air, choking the air out of her.

She flailed only little.

"You will teach us, yes?"

Tasha groaned hoarsely, seeing the other three pinned down as thirsty, malnourished haemophages salivated all over them. And in the close contact, she realized in the midst of her shock that these weren't Octopus. These weren't even Tanin.

"You will teach us, yes?"

Helen screamed.

"Yes," Tasha managed to squeeze through her blue, deoxygenated lips. "Yes."

They screamed.

Above them. Flowers bloomed, and grass died under the sun. No one heard a thing.

And that's all folks. That's the end of Part 1. There'll be a break now from this story as I deal with some irl shizz (like the exams). So now's a really good time to let me know what you thought of the story as a whole, if you ever make it this far. If you did, thank you so much for taking a chance and reading something a little weird, a little slow and a little too political.