Authors: O. M. Grey
“Victor,” Avalon said in a warning tone.
“Look,” he continued, moving to the very edge of his chair as if he was preparing to pounce on some unsuspecting prey. “Those things are out there right now, probably killing again or, worse, siring others, or both. We can’t just sit here and rehash what we already know!”
He was most certainly in a mood.
“True.” I spoke with exaggerated calm, hoping he’d take a hint. “But we also decided that London was too vast. We must start with what we know and then follow whatever lead we can find. We know it is vampire-
like
. It most certainly dusts like one, although a stake through the heart doesn’t accomplish this, beheading does: a known way to kill a vampire,” I said the last forcibly, pointing at a section of my scribbled notes under the heading
Presumed Ways to Slay a
Vampire
. “Beheading is actually number one.”
“Beheading will kill every creature I know of,” Victor said captiously.
“Indeed,” I responded calmly again, trying to defuse his contention.
Avalon stood up from the chaise and joined us at the table. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and he sighed in exasperation. One touch calmed him. She was pure magic.
“Apologies for my behavior,” he said, taking another swig and finishing off his tea. He set the cup down hard, causing the china to spiderweb in fine surface cracks up the sides. I didn’t mention his rough use of my tableware; I just gave him a refill, since Cecil apparently had better things to do. He was oblivious to the damage and continued, “I tend to get angry when I’m baffled.” He looked up at Avalon apologetically. She nodded and sat down in the chair beside him.
“Now, Arthur, let’s go over what we know,” she said.
“Beheading is the first presumed way to slay a vampire, who, unlike other creatures that also die from decapitation, turns to dust.”
Victor looked down at his tea but didn’t say another word.
“The second presumed way is a stake through the heart,” I continued, “which should also kill, therefore dust, a vampire, but that didn’t work with Lord Haldenby. It wasn’t completely ineffectual either. It seemed to physically paralyze him. An important thing to remember, I think.
“Third way is exposure to sunlight, which will apparently cause them to combust. Although I have never witnessed this myself–”
“I have,” Victor said without looking up from his tea. “In Romania.”
“Really?” My curiosity was indeed piqued. “Do tell.”
Victor swallowed hard then downed the rest of his tea. I poured him another cup, and he began, “Abe, Frederick, and I were on the trail of this particular fiend, and we cornered him just before dawn in a valley surrounded by rock. This was all on the continent, in Romania,” he added for my benefit, for I had never heard any of Victor’s stories before. Judging from Avalon’s expression, she hadn’t heard this particular story either. Victor’s expression, on the other hand, was stern, actually stoic. “The beast tried to scramble away, and normally he would’ve been able to. Vampires have amazing abilities to jump extremely high and climb even seemingly smooth surfaces, but we had shot him with a strong tranquilizer, something Frederick devised, as he was the chemist among us. A type of opiate that would’ve killed a man and crippled an elephant, but on this devil, it just slowed him down, almost imperceptibly so. That is, until he tried to escape.”
I had underestimated Victor. He had seen some supernatural action after all.
“Why didn’t you just stake him?” Avalon gasped, eyes wide.
He looked up at her before responding. His face revealed a mixture of concern and resolve.
He continued, “Research. We were conducting an experiment, trying to discern what was true and what was false. Anyway, the thing was terrified of the impending sunrise, as if it instinctually knew the kind of death that it would bring. I had never seen such terror on anyone’s face. One almost felt pity for the creature, hunted as he was.”
I could see by the look on Avalon’s face that she did pity it. This was a plus.
“He would rush at us in his drugged state, begging to be staked, but he was too weakened to do anything other than submit to our will. Each time he rushed us, we pushed him back against the rock wall, where he would try to scramble up it again to no avail. It did become quite piteous.”
A tear fell down Avalon’s cheek.
“Just as dawn began to break, the brute let out a horrible cry, unlike anything I had heard before or since. It was as if his soul, had he one, was crying out for mercy. It was the sound of pure horror itself.” Victor was quiet for several moments. Perhaps he was unsure how much he should share with us, but Avalon and I waited in silent patience for him to continue. He finally did. His tone was full of regret. “The sun rose. As the light crept across the land toward him, he tried to flatten himself against the stone wall, keeping away from the sunlight as long as possible.
But there was no escape. When the sunlight finally reached his skin, he caught on fire, screamed in discernible agony, burned momentarily for what was only seconds, and then exploded into dust. There was nothing left of him.”
No one said anything for a moment. Avalon was looking down at her folded hands in her lap, but I kept my eye on Victor. He stared into the dregs at the bottom of his teacup for another moment before looking over at Avalon, then at me.
“So, yes, sunlight works,” he added.
“That’s dreadful, Victor, to torture a creature like that,” said as she wiped the tears from her face.
“It was a bloodsucking vampire, Avalon!” Victor defended himself and shot her a quizzical look.
“Yes, I know, but to draw it out like that. It’s monstrous in itself, Victor!” She had regained full composure, and her sadness quickly transformed into vexation. “What sets us apart from such monsters is our compassion. Why? Why would you do such a thing?”
Victor didn’t respond to her but rather looked at me. I remained neutral. I couldn't afford to show sympathy for a vampire, not with his renewed suspicion. I also couldn’t side with Victor.
He downed the last few drops of his tea and asked, “Got anything stronger?”
“Whiskey?”
“Perfect.”
The whiskey decanter was actually just across the room with some glasses. I poured us each a shot. Victor and I swallowed ours straight off, and I refilled the glasses. This time, Avalon drank hers with us. Feeling a little lighter, we continued. Victor seemed in a better mood almost immediately.
“So. Sunlight works!” I said. “Fire?”
“Same results,” Victor answered, adding no details this time.
He finished the third shot along with me. Perhaps I can feign passing out later, avoid having to go out at dawn. I’d rather not give Victor a repeat performance on the effects of sunlight on a vampire.
Victor slammed his fourth drink.
Perhaps he wouldn’t make it to dawn himself.
Victor pulled the tome of vampire research towards him, regarded it for a moment, then closed it and pushed it away. “You said there was more than this?”
“Of course,” I said, standing up and moving to the far end of the library. “This entire section is devoted to the study of the supernatural.”
“Impressive.” He picked up my original copy of
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus
dated 1818. “Interesting,” he said.
“Not sure how much you saw, my good man, but when I was atop of the beast, his face changed. Unlike that which I have ever seen. Tell me, did the vampires you studied in Romania’s faces change when they were angry or agitated?”
“Not greatly,” he said. “Their canines became longer somehow before feeding or even when attempting to feed. Although the aforementioned vampire didn’t show any signs of extended canines during that entire episode. I conclude that it must occur only when they are about to feed or attack.”
Not quite,
I thought, but I didn’t say a word. In fact, vampires have complete control over their fangs, most of the time. Although there are times of increased passion or hunger when they descended before one can stop them.
“This creature’s face changed considerably,” I said. “Not only did the canines get longer, as you said, but his entire face changed. His nose and mouth seemed to protrude, as did his brow.
His eyes changed as well.”
“Changed? How?” Avalon asked curiously.
“His face seemed to change into something almost bestial. I don’t know quite how else to put it.”
“Werewolf?” Victor asked.
“My thoughts exactly. But the moon wasn’t full and werewolves, to my knowledge, don’t turn to dust upon decapitation. I don’t have much experience with werewolves, however. Do you?”
“Not much. Frederick, my aforementioned colleague from Romania, did have rather an obsession with them, but our internship there focused solely on the vampire. I only know what he told me of them.” Victor paused and looked over at Avalon to ensure she was all right. She appeared attentive, but no longer frightened or horrified. Victor sighed, ran his hands over his face, continued, “Infection is spread by a single bite. The werewolf’s saliva must but momentarily be mixed with one’s blood, and the infection will take. Other than that, they emerge on the full moon. Actually they have three nights a month in that bestial form: the night of the full moon and the day immediately before and after it. They often remember nothing once human again.”
“Bestial,” Avalon said, and stopped there. She had been quiet a long time, just listening and absorbing all the horror of this world. She was the least experienced and most curious among us.
She sipped her whiskey, but said nothing further.
“Yes, my dear?” Victor said, urging her to continue.
Avalon seemed lost in thought, and it wasn’t until several moments later that she finally continued, “You described it as bestial. That’s the same word Arthur used to describe Lord Haldenby’s eyes: bestial.”
“Indeed,” Victor said with recognition and turned toward me. “Do you think?”
“It’s possible, I suppose, but as I said before, werewolves don’t turn to dust.”
“Yes, and vampires do with just a stake, but this one didn’t. This is not a vampire or a werewolf, but perhaps it’s a hybrid of the two?” He shook the copy of
Frankenstein
in the air.
“An abomination of nature, yes?”
He returned to the table and looked over all the vampire notes, putting Mary Shelley’s
Frankenstien
down on top. “Bring me everything you have on the werewolf,” he said.
I wasn’t used to taking orders, nor did I like it much. Cecil would certainly pay for this indignity. Yet, I had to play along for the sake of Avalon, so I did as he requested. We all read in relative silence for the next several hours, Victor kept drinking the whiskey until the decanter was empty. I had to go down to the kitchen to get more, which worked well for me. I kept up, as alcohol didn’t really affect me, or it did so slightly, just clouds my thoughts and the like, that it might as well not affect me. I didn’t let on to that, though, as dawn was quickly approaching.
Hopefully Victor would pass out before that, but I had to chance it. I couldn’t afford renewing his suspicion at this juncture. It was summer, after all, it might be one of the few clear days London gets. yet I had to remain careful.
On my way back up to the library with a fresh bottle of whiskey, I ran into Avalon on the stairs.
“Are you all right?” she asked, concerned.
“I’m fine, my dear. Why do you ask?”
“This is all just so insane, Arthur. You shouldn’t have to see those things.”
“As you saw, I can take care of myself, and I’m not one of those elitist aristocrats, blind to reality. I’ve seen some true horror in my time,” I replied.
“Whatever station! No one should have to see those things!”
“Quite true, my dear. Quite true. Still, not all things are as they should be. That is the way of life.”
She looked into my eyes, and I watched her concern turn to understanding. “You have seen your share, haven’t you?”
“Like I said.” I smiled.
“We have to be off again soon if we’re to catch Lady Haldenby,” she said, eyeing the fresh bottle of whiskey in my hand.
“I can hold my own,” I said.
“I thought I might bring up some coffee and biscuits,” she said. “What with the wine earlier and the whiskey now, I think I’ve had my fill for the next week!”
“Wonderful idea, my dear. You know where the kitchen is. Perhaps some bread, too? Might help soak up the alcohol,” I said, moving a little closer to her. She didn’t back away.
“This is all so strange, Arthur. But you and Victor seem so comfortable with it all.” She placed her hand on my shoulder for a moment and then started fiddling with my lapels. An exceptionally affectionate act, that.
“We’ve just lived with it longer, is all. It’s not fitting to be so comfortable with such ideas, Avalon, especially not for a fine lady such as yourself,” I said in hushed tones, moving closer. I stood within an inch of her, and I could hear her heartbeat begin to race, her breath quicken. I had a mind to kiss her, but I refrained. Now that there was interest, perhaps due to her vulnerability, I mustn’t chase that interest away by moving too quickly. Instead, I stepped back, bowed, and climbed the rest of the way up to the library where Victor was mumbling to himself and frantically scribbling out notes of his own.
“Arthur! Arthur!”
I awoke to Avalon franticly shaking me.
I guess I really did pass out. So much for holding my own. Had to be the lack of blood over the past few days. It was affecting me.
I looked around at my surroundings, and I was still in the library. Victor was gone. The papers and books were still strewn all over the table on which I had so recently been sleeping.
The last thing I remember was how lovely Avalon looked stretched out on the chaise with a blanket covering her as she read. She must’ve dozed off, too.
“What is it?” I asked, wiping my eyes. I took my pocket watch out and looked at the time.