by O. M. Grey
Avalon rubbed her arms as if she was cold. The air did have an uncommon chill in it, but it was more like the chill of disbelief and horror that bit into Avalon’s bones. The body’s reaction in response to something too ghastly to comprehend. It made even me shudder.
I have seen many a strange thing in my existence, but something about what Victor said rang true. It was unnatural. Whereas vampires and werewolves were more of the supernatural variety of creature, a different species, as it were, this was definitely unnatural. Hybrid, like that of lycan and vampire and perhaps even something else. The way its snout and brow protruded.
Abomination was a good word. There was only one species that would create such a creature just because they could.
This was the work of man.
My guess–a very disturbed man.
“Arthur,” Victor said, interrupting my thoughts, “might we return to yours this evening to do a bit of homework?”
“Certainly,” I said. More time with Avalon? Who was I to object?
“We’ve got to know more about it, if that’s even possible. London is too big to be everywhere at once, and we must have at least an idea where to begin. Let’s return to the crypt just before dawn in the event that the wife, Charlotte, returns.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to return after dawn,” Avalon said, “when it will be asleep?”
“Not a bad plan, Avalon. After dawn it is.”
That posed a problem for me.
We arrived at my home within twenty minutes, as the Brompton cemetery wasn’t all that far away. We had mostly taken the smaller roads after the attention we drew to ourselves on Brompton Road, even if it took a little longer. I called out for Cecil as soon as we stepped inside the foyer, but there was no answer.
“Maybe he’s asleep,” Avalon offered.
“He sleeps when I tell him to sleep–CECIL,” I shouted again.
I hung up my own jacket and then took Avalon’s and hung it on the coat rack by the door as well. She turned the lock, wanting to feel some kind of safety.
“Nice place,” he said, hanging up his own jacket. He then stood in the center of the foyer with his hands on his hips and looked around the room with some amazement.
“Thanks––CECIL!”
He was embarrassing me in front of my guests. That will not do.
“I don’t think he’s here, Arthur,” Avalon said gently, concerned with my agitation. She laid a calming hand on my arm and looked up at me with those sweet eyes. I almost forgot myself right there in the foyer. “I can make the tea if you will just show me where the kitchen is.”
“This isn’t like him,” I said, waking myself up from Avalon’s spell. “I’ll check his room. The kitchen is through there,” I said, pointing through the drawing room. “Just down at the end of that hallway.
“Great,” she left to the kitchen. I watched her go. Bustle or no bustle, she was a fine looking woman. I turned to Victor who hadn’t moved from the center of the foyer. Hands still on hips, he was staring up at the dark crown molding and golden gilded ceiling.
“Really nice place,” he repeated.
I had grown accustomed to a certain level of finery, unlike that which Victor has probably ever seen. Money, after all, meant little to me. It was easy to obtain, especially for one like me, and even easier to spend.
“Victor, would you mind waiting in here while I look for my insolent man?” I gestured through an archway into the parlor.
“Sure,” he said with an uncertain tone. I watched as he walked into the room, and he looked around, stepping gingerly as if he might inadvertently break something if he moved too quickly.
“Have a seat,” I offered, “I’ll be back shortly.” He sat down on the very edge of the embroidered French sofa, looking completely out of place in his dirty dungarees, hat in hand.
I left him there and ascended the staircase to the second floor. I pounded on Cecil’s door, but there was no answer. Thomas poked his head out if his room, hair sticking straight up and groggy from sleep.
“Everything all right, m’lord?” Thomas asked. “Did you need a ride?”
“No, Thomas, go back to sleep. Wait,” I said as he started to close the door.
“Yes, m’lord?”
“Do you know where Cecil is?”
“No, m’lord. He was here when I returned earlier this evening, m’lord.”
“Did you tell him where I was?”
“I did, m’lord. I told him you wouldn’t be back until dawn, m’lord. As most nights.”
“Of course. Thank you, Thomas. I’ll be entertaining some guests for the rest of the night, but we shan’t disturb your sleep again. Sweet dreams.”
“Thank you, m’lord,” he said, bowing his head slightly, and then closed the door.
Cecil out on his own at night? This was really not like him. Of course, I suppose he could’ve done this often, knowing that I would be away. Perhaps there was a girl. Who was I kidding?
There was always a girl. I brushed it off, but resolved to have a strong discussion with him upon his return. He did work for me after all, and I required his assistance. It really was unacceptable behavior for a butler. Had he not been so loyal and hardworking all these years, I would consider replacing him for this slight. Certainly there had to be a good explanation for this, and I would most certainly find out what it was.
I stopped in my library to ensure nothing that shouldn’t be seen would be seen.
On my way back downstairs I heard Victor and Avalon talking amongst themselves, a human set of ears wouldn’t be able to hear them in hushed tones, but fortunately I wasn’t human. They spoke of the night’s events.
“Did you see how fast he moved?” Victor said. So he had noticed.
“You mean saving my life? No. I was rather occupied at that moment,” she sounded defensive. Good.
“Of course. He did save your life, but I fear he is not what he seems, Avalon.” Victor’s tone was gentle, as one telling a child his favorite pet had died.
“Victor! He saved us both from that thing, and you still don’t trust him?” She was incredulous, angry. All on my behalf! Perhaps I had gotten to her a little.
“It’s not that, my dear, but I--I just fear he is--not what he seems.”
“Yes. You said that already.” Her tone was so cold that it even sent a chill through my frigid veins.
“Avalon, dear--”
“I am not your dear, Victor.” If possible, her tone was even colder than before. “How can you question him? He’s been nothing but noble and helpful to us.”
“But we hardly know him. All I’m saying is to be careful, dea–Avalon. He obviously has feelings for you.”
“Is that what this is about? Jealously?” That previous coldness melted in the heat of renewed anger. This was obviously an old issue between them, and she’d had enough.
“No--you’re missing my meaning. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection. If you remember, it was I who got the monster off of you. I can hold my own as well as you or any man can,” she replied proudly.
“Of course you can.” He sounded defeated. “Let’s not argue, Avalon. It’s late. We’re both tired. We survived a horrible episode tonight, and it’s not over. We must work together, so, please, forget I said anything.”
Avalon didn’t say another word. I continued down the stairs, making my foot falls a little louder than normal. By the time I reached the parlor, they were on different chairs. Victor, still on the very corner of the sofa looking more incongruous than ever and Avalon on my reading chair near the fireplace. She must’ve moved, as they were speaking too softly to have been this far apart.
She didn’t want me to see her close to Victor! At least, that’s what I chose to believe. One can create quite the perfect world for oneself in one’s own mind.
The tea kettle whistled from the kitchen, and Avalon excused herself. For several moments neither Victor nor I said anything. The hefty tension ha
nging in the room made for an uncomfortable pause
“Well?” Victor finally asked, a little cross.
“Hmm?”
“Your man, did you find him?”
Avalon returned carrying a silver platter with the prepared tea. Victor’s whole demeanor changed from annoyed to humble in an instant.
“Oh, that. No, I didn’t. It seems he went out. This is terribly embarrassing, and I apologize most ardently. A lady should not have to make her own tea,” I said with a proper bow to Avalon.
“Please. I make tea for myself and others all the time. I don’t stand on such nonsense ceremonies.” She looked offended.
“You’re quite right, of course. Too many years in this life has made me sound like an elitist.
Let me assure you, I am anything but. Please, join me in my library upstairs.”
Avalon started toward the stairs.
“No,” I said. “Allow me.”
She smiled at me as I took the tea tray from her, doing so a little closer to her than was fitting in mixed company. She blushed.
That’s a good sign.
Victor certainly noticed, as his hackles rose once again.
“Follow me, dear guests. We have a long night of research ahead of us.”
I led them back up the stairs to my library. Avalon sat down on the very chaise on which her aunt so deliciously took me. The memory of it mixed with Avalon’s divine figure there caused me to harden a little. I moved behind the large table, masking my excitement, and set the tea tray down. I poured each a cup of tea and allowed Victor to take Avalon’s to her, keeping my lower body well hidden behind the table.
“So let’s see this extensive research you boasted about. We’ve got work to do,” Victor growled, then took a gulp of tea.
“Of course,” I said, opening the grand tome to its clippings, notes, and scribblings.
“Is this it? You showed me this earlier tonight. I thought there would be more,” Victor spat.
“There is, but this is the most focused on vampires.”
“We’ve already decided that this isn’t an ordinary vampire, so what good will this do us?” he said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. He set his teacup down forcibly, sloshing the tea onto its saucer. He crossed his arms like a petulant child and scowled.
“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.”