by C J Lutton
Thaddeus’ hands were shaking so violently that in his efforts to remove the cap, the canteen fell to the floor. Scrambling to his hands and knees, he dove for the container. One of the creatures' heads with its jaws wide open, snapped and snarled just a few feet away from the young man's outstretched hand.
Holmes stood on tiptoes behind us and fired Aramis over our heads. The roar was deafening.
The shots tore into the first Cerberus and sent it reeling back into the oncoming rush of the second three—headed dog. Thaddeus finally got a grip on his canteen. He poured the water in a straight line across the entire width of the tunnel.
The dog—like creature recovered from the force of Holmes’ shots. He sat on his haunches and shook his three heads. Then, growling and snarling, he lunged at Thaddeus’ throat. The young man fell on his rump and scrambled away on his hands and knees. In his retreat, Thaddeus barreled into me and sent us both reeling. Regaining our balance, we fired our weapons into the demons.
”Move back!” shouted Thaddeus.
Retreating and reloading our weapons, we fired again. The howls of the wounded beasts tore at our sanity. But slowly, our fear turned to amazement. Although they snapped and snarled, the two Cerberuses would not pass the spot on the floor where Thaddeus had poured the water from his canteen.
”It's working,” our young friend laughed, as he jumped up and down with excitement. ”The holy water is keeping them at bay!”
”What are you talking about?” I asked.
”The water! It was in my canteen. I had it blessed at the chapel on the army post, just in case. Don't you see, Doctor? The monster dogs can't cross the line. It's because of the holy water. It has to be!”
“Good thinking, Thaddeus.” Holmes opened his gun, removed the pellets, and held them in his hand. Thaddeus poured a little bit of water over them. Holmes reloaded and continued firing into the beasts. They roared and snarled in pain and madness, as the shots rinsed with holy water puckered their stonelike flesh. Wisps of smoke rose from the beasts wherever the pellets hit. In a blind rage, the creatures gnawed at their wounds and tore out chunks of steaming rock. In agonizing slowness, the last survivor of the yelping heads swayed on its rubbery neck and rolled its eyes. Finally, the last head toppled to the ground. With one final snort of foul breath, the head lay still.
”Excellent!” said Holmes, walking up to the fallen monsters and firing once more into their shattered bodies. ”Not only did the holy water keep these monsters from tearing into us, but now we know that holy water will keep Dracula contained.”
”Are they truly dead?” I asked, nervously.
”For the present.”
”Well done, Mr. Holmes!” boomed a voice at the end of the tunnel. ”You need not worry about my pets. As soon as you and your friends are mine, my sentries will again walk the earth.”
The cruel laughter echoed throughout the passage as Holmes spun round and fired Aramis in surprise.
”You and your evil ways are nearing an end, Dracula,” said Holmes.
”My, my, but we are testy,” mocked the disembodied voice.
Holmes beckoned us to draw near. He whispered, ”Your stakes and mallets. When we go in, be sure to let him see them. I want Dracula distracted. Watson, I want you to go to the right. Thaddeus, to the left. I'll confront him from the center. Do not take your eyes off him. Watch only Dracula and his movements, and nothing else. Do not let your eyes or mind wander from him. It's Dracula, and Dracula alone, that you are to see. Am I clear?”
Thaddeus and I nodded solemnly. Holmes leaned against the wall. Inhaling deeply, he continued, ”If we are able to knock him down, I want you to drive your stakes through his hands. Not his heart! I want him crucified. Impaled to the ground. Understood?”
Again, we nodded.
Reaching for his canteen, Holmes gestured for our stakes. Smiling at Thaddeus as he did so, he bathed the wood with the holy water. Then Holmes poured the remainder of the water over his head and hands. Thaddeus, reaching for my canteen, emptied its contents over both of us.
We checked our weapons one final time and nodded at one another. Slowly, we moved forward until we were at the mouth of the chamber. Holmes raised his hand for us to stop. He peered round the corner and fell back against the wall. His face had turned ashen. He raised his arm and pointed into the chamber and said, “Steel yourselves for visions of hell.”
Thaddeus and I swallowed our fear. We dropped to our hands and knees and crept to the opening. Once Thaddeus peered inside, he wailed with horror and stopped. I stayed put. The sight that had so affected us was a circle of twenty tall, tapered poles. The arched ceiling of the cavern provided ample clearance as the poles formed a ring around Dracula on his throne. But my eyes didn’t stop to rest on the Father of Lies. Instead, I stared in horror at seventeen of the poles. At the very top of each was the naked body of one of Dracula’s victims.
Each victim was impaled near the very top of each pole. The splintery points had been rammed up the victim’s nether parts, ripping through the digestive system, and exiting the mouth. Blood and gore covered the poles. The victims spun around in slow circles. Horribly, their anguished screams told us that they were still alive. They begged anyone who could hear their pleas to kill them.
Three of the poles were empty. I could only presume they had been reserved for us.
My hands flew to my ears as I tried to ward off the tortured screams. I could not bring myself to advance on the scene. Nor could my compatriots. Instead, I sat there with my friends in a huddled group. No matter how hard I tried, I could not blot out the plaintive wailing of the damned.
”Come on in, gentlemen,” commanded Dracula’s silky voice. ”I've been waiting for you.”
Infuriated by the taunts, Holmes angrily pushed away from the wall and stepped over our hunched bodies. The great detective lifted his chin, straightened his shoulders, and started towards Dracula.
”Holmes, don't go.” I clutched at the cuff of his trousers.
My friend’s fiery eyes blazed down at me scornfully, then his face softened as he said, ”Don't you see? I have to. Someone has to stop him.”
Thaddeus and I clambered to our feet. We fell in step on either side of our friend.
”Dracula! Your hounds from hell were unable to stop us,” Holmes shouted, “and now you will taste your own tainted and damned blood when you finally, truly die!”
Dracula sat casually on his throne. As we made our way into his lair, he studied us with amusement, while drumming his bony fingers on the ornate arms of his throne. To one side of his royal seat rested an ornate coffin of black wood with shiny brass handles. On the sides of the coffin were the coat of arms of the House of Dracul, red and yellow stripes on the right side balanced by a blue background with a crescent moon and a star on the left. I shivered, thinking of the blood—soaked soil that lined the interior of the coffin.
”We're here, you coward!” hissed Holmes, bringing Aramis to the horizontal.
Dracula stood and opened his arms in welcome. “Hello, my honoured guests.”
The monster’s attire was formal, although tattered and worn to a shine. His ruffled blouse had yellowed with age. It billowed and hung loosely on his emaciated frame. The front of his shirt was stained with blotches of crimson and brown, obviously dried, blood. His dark, brooding eyes followed our advance. The curious translucency of his skin exposed every pulsing vein on his face. Blue—grey veins wormed their way down his neck toward his black heart. A moth—eaten cape hung loosely from his shoulders.
After surveying the three of us, Dracula’s eyes locked onto Holmes. The Prince of Darkness attempted a smile. His mouth drew back to expose his bloodied canines. ”Well, well, well, Sherlock,” he said. ”Don’t you want to say hello to your beloved brother?”
Clutching the ends of his cape, Dracula whirled with a flourish and sat on his throne. Leaning forward, he smiled indifferently, while raising his left hand and pointing towards the ceiling. Turning
our eyes upward, we saw Mycroft's body fall toward us, clearing the darkness of the roof. The bloated and bruised body of Sherlock Holmes’ older brother was naked. The fleshy form spun in a head—over—heels fashion, just as Harker had described in his earlier testimony. The sight proved so ghastly that Holmes hesitated. I hurried and grabbed my friend to steady him.
My touch helped Holmes recover from his shock. My old friend gave me a hearty push out of the way as he stepped towards Dracula. Holmes kept going until he stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne.
”That is just an illusion,” mocked Holmes with an airy wave of his hands. ”A parlor trick. Are you so weakened, that you've been reduced to this? We're onto your game, Vlad!”
Holmes placed his boot on the first step. Dracula blanched at his impertinence.
”Not one more step, Holmes,” hissed the Father of Lies. “I warn you. I am all powerful. You have yet to see the likes of me.”
Thaddeus and I hurried to take our places alongside our comrade. The vampire’s head recoiled at our advance. He hissed his alarm at our sudden movement.
Holmes raised his hand as a signal for us to hold our positions. ”Not yet,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Holmes planted his right foot on the first step and then joined it with his left.
”Stand back!” Dracula ordered, raising his hand in a menacing gesture. ”Stand back or Mycroft will die!”
Holmes climbed the second step. He stared at Dracula and issued a challenge. ”I am tired of your threats, Vlad. Go on! Be done with it. You're nothing but a sad charlatan.”
”Then watch your brother die, Mr. Holmes,” the vampire spat.
Mycroft's body dropped between Holmes and the vampire. It hovered chest high in front of them.
At first, Holmes rocked back on his heels in reaction to the closeness of his brother. But what happened next confounded all my expectations. Holmes bounded up the final steps and walked right through the body of his brother.
Immediately, Mycroft evaporated into thin air.
One by one, the bodies impaled on the poles stopped spinning.
Dracula's eyes bulged with fear as Holmes drew even and stood at the vampire's feet. Grasping the arms of the throne, Dracula shot out of it and growled.
Holmes burst out laughing. ”What's the matter, Vlad? You look troubled. I’m not scared of you. Is that a disappointment?”
The vampire roared. He balled his fists and thrust them toward Holmes. Our friend didn’t flinch. Dracula stood there staring at Holmes. His muscles flickered. His eyes twitched. I could see that he wanted to attack Holmes, but something was holding him back.
I chanced a look at Thaddeus. Incredibly, the lad was smiling. He cast a sideways glance towards me, and I tilted my head to the right as an invitation. The boy bit his lower lip and acknowledged my signal. Slowly we mounted the stairs.
”Stay where you are!” Dracula commanded.
We paid him no heed. Thaddeus and I continued toward our friend. Holmes, seeing us, stepped forward and smiled at the vampire.
Dracula's head drew back like a frightened animal’s. His lips flattened against his teeth, and he hissed ominously. I could almost see him puff up in an attempt to look more menacing. But his tricks didn’t work. Thaddeus and I held our arms out slightly from our sides, thus allowing our mallets and stakes to be clearly visible. Dracula glared at us, but underneath that haughty look, we saw panic in his eyes.
Holmes inched his way forward, and Dracula moved backwards. We were nearly twenty feet apart from each other. The monster swiveled his head from side to side, looking from Thaddeus to me to Holmes and back to Thaddeus, repeating the cycle in an attempt to keep us all in his sight.
”It's time to die, Vlad.” Holmes slid closer to the demon. Thaddeus and I paused our flanking maneuver. Moving in tandem, the young man and I stepped onto the stone platform on which Dracula's throne rested.
The vampire snarled and hissed like a poisonous snake. Planting his feet on the platform, he pressed himself as far back as he could go against his throne.
”It's the holy water,” whispered Thaddeus. ”He's afraid of it!”
Thaddeus’ words had hit home, because Dracula visibly trembled with fear. The chamber grew deathly quiet. The only sound I heard was the thumping of my heart in my chest.
”I think it's time that we introduce Vlad to our friends, Athos and Porthos,” Holmes said quietly.
The vampire looked suspiciously at Holmes and hissed again.
Stuffing the mallet and stake into the pockets of my coat, I raised Porthos and waited for Holmes’ command.
”Now!”
In a blur of movement, Dracula tried to scramble out of his seat. However, Thaddeus and I fired simultaneously. Our shots slammed the panicked vampire back into his throne. At the very instant we fired, Holmes drove himself right at Dracula like a flanker in a scrum.
Caught by surprise, the vampire wheezed. The full weight of Holmes’ charge crumpled the demon and knocked the wind out of him. Meanwhile, our pellets treated with holy water were burning holes into the demon’s flesh. Dracula did his best to wrap his hands around Holmes’ throat. But the holy water that Holmes had poured on himself scalded the vampire. In a jumble of arms and legs, Holmes and Dracula rocked the throne. The momentum of their writhing bodies caused the throne to topple off of the platform.
Thaddeus and I reloaded Porthos and Athos. We raced around to where the throne had fallen. We were prepared to see our friend locked in mortal combat with Dracula, but to our astonishment, there was only the thrashing figure of Sherlock Holmes.
”Keep an eye out for Dracula!” I shouted to Thaddeus. ”I'll tend to Holmes!”
Thinking that Holmes had lost his mind and was battling an invisible foe, I hurried to where he had fallen. I placed my arms round my friend’s shoulders.
”Holmes!” I cried, ”He's gone! There's no one there!”
But my friend continued his violent behavior as if he had not heard me. His body bucked up in the air. I was about to pull Holmes up off the ground, but an iron grip wrapped round my ankle. Believing that it was Holmes, I shook my foot in an attempt to free myself. When I stepped away, I felt the crunch of bones. I thought I had inadvertently landed on Holmes’ hand. A mighty roar filled my ears, but it wasn't Holmes’ voice. It was Dracula's!
Holmes looked up at me. His body was writhing in pain. His face became contorted and compressed by an unseen hand. It was then that I realised that Dracula had become invisible. My chest tightened and constricted. With fingers that had suddenly gone numb, I reloaded Porthos and pointed it, but Dracula's body was still as transparent as glass.
The dirt kicked up round us, sending pebbles and stones exploding into the air and showering back down onto our heads. But as we ducked and dodged, the ripples of moving air took shape. Dracula's features became visible again. Thaddeus and I fired simultaneously. Our shots had found their marks, as wisps of smoke chimneyed out of Dracula's torn body.
Growling and clawing at his wounds, the vampire rose to his knees. In a desperate attempt, he lunged at Holmes, but my friend was too quick and sidestepped his advance. The vampire fell to the floor with a thud. Dracula groveled at our feet. The three of us dropped to our knees, pinning him with our bodies. His clawlike hands grabbed onto my leg and his fingers dug into my thigh. I howled and pummeled him.
Holmes and Thaddeus joined the melee. Everywhere we brought our fists crashing down, simmering craters of putrid flesh bubbled in response. Although Dracula was badly wounded, his strength was superhuman. We rode his bucking body across the floor. Finally we crashed against the wall of the chamber. The three of us were knocked clear. By the time we recovered, Dracula was gone!
Thaddeus and I jumped up. We searched in vain for the monster, but he was nowhere to be found. I was about to call out, but I noticed Holmes staring at the wall in front of him. Something in his manner made me pause.
”What is it, Holmes?” I whispered,
coming to stand beside him.
He smiled and nodded at the wall. ”Look,” he said, ”he's right in front of us.”
I turned at the spot where Holmes was staring. A peculiar wave, or current, rippled on the surface of the stone. The motion reminded me of the heat reflecting off the hot desert sands when I was in Afghanistan.
Thaddeus, standing behind me, whispered in my ear excitedly. ”I see him! He's right here in front of us!”
Dracula had become the wall. If it hadn't been for Holmes’ keen eye, we most assuredly would have missed him. Now, there he was, standing before us.
”I'm afraid your time is up, Vlad,” said Holmes. ”There's no way out!”
In an instant, the mirage disappeared from the wall. I heard a blood—curdling scream, as Dracula swooped down from the ceiling behind us. He wrapped himself over the back of Holmes. My friend disappeared beneath the fabric of the cape, as they rolled about the floor like a nest of vipers. The ghastly realization that we had been tricked by Dracula sent me reeling in shock. I immediately understood the dire predicament we were in.
To my astonishment, I realized that we had not been watching Dracula's feeble attempts to escape when we stared at the wall. Instead, he had planted a mental suggestion in our brains. His goal had been to divert our attention away from his true point of attack—and it had worked.
Twisting and rolling in a blurred frenzy of grunts and cursing, the vampire's body slithered round Holmes, making it impossible to get a clear shot. Thaddeus and I desperately danced round the squirming figures. We were helpless!
Dracula rolled on top of Holmes. Wrapping my friend's hair in his fingers, he jerked Holmes’ head aside and roughly exposed our friend’s throat. Ignoring the burns caused by the holy water, Dracula craned his neck. A horrible crunching sound was heard and the fiend’s head began to change shape. His jaws twisted, contorted, and snapped open! The lower mandible pressed out against the inside of his mouth and the skin. His jaws elongated into a snout. His ears grew large and pointed. While sitting on Holmes’ chest, Dracula turned to us and said, ”Now I'll show you what I can do to the great Sherlock Holmes! I am the only one who can turn into a wolf! There'll be no tiny little puncture wounds in this one. I'll rip his throat apart!”