Avalon Revisited

by O. M. Grey

  Saying nothing perhaps was worse, as it could be interpreted as indifference. Truly, a difficult situation. Perhaps I’ll just listen, if she’ll let me.

  Upon arrival, I stepped out, straightened my coat, and gathered up my courage. This time, as it was a decent hour, I rang her bell.

  Unexpectedly, the door was answered by a bright pink-clad Lady Bainbridge. My well-rehearsed speech would have to wait. Fortunately, she wasn’t dressed in chartreuse.

  “Well, my, my, my, my, my” she said with a gleam in her eye. “Arthur York. Do come in.”

  She put a suggestive lilt on the word “in,” flipped open her fan, and began fanning herself wildly.

  I bowed slightly, ignoring the innuendo, took off my hat, and stepped inside. Emily led me to the parlor, which was situated on the first floor, and there, on one end of the sofa, sat Avalon dressed in a pretty black dress, all black. Her face was partially covered by a veil that swept down to her nose from her conservative hat. It was wide brimmed, no whimsical tiny top hat today. This was a house of mourning, and I took care to show that I respected that. Although, it seemed, Emily did not, for she was as ostentatious as ever.

  “Do sit down, Arthur,” she said, taking a seat in a chair to the right of Avalon.

  “Lady Bainbridge,” I said. “What a surprise to see you here.” I sat on the other end of the sofa from Avalon rather than the chair next to Emily, making my intention to speak with Avalon clear. Emily noticed and appeared rather ruffled by it, for she pursed her lips and tightened her jaw.

  “Yes. I suppose you came to speak with my niece alone. I do know how you like to be alone with women,” she said cattily, emphasizing the word ‘alone’.

  I looked at her sharply, insisting she behave herself.

  She didn’t heed the warning.

  “You do have a reputation, after all.” She continued to fan herself absentmindedly, but there was nothing absent about her sharp mind and biting wit. “So, Arthur, what do you want with my dear niece on this fine evening?”

  “I was concerned. She’s lost a friend,” I said to Emily, although I was now watching Avalon closely. She dabbed under her eyes with a white handkerchief, but she wouldn’t look at me. The sight of me reminds her of Victor’s horrible death, and she can’t bear that.

  “I asked you to leave me alone, Arthur,” she said softly.

  Before I could respond, Emily let out a vile bark of laughter, making a tense situation even more strained with her rudeness.

  “Is that so?” mused Emily, “But you just couldn’t stay away, right Arthur? Your appetite is too strong for that, no?”

  So much for being discreet. This woman didn’t care if Avalon knew about her conquests.

  “Yes, I told Avalon that she shouldn’t get so close with her tenants. I mean, after all, they were not of her standing, were they? Especially this Victor. Scientist or something? How dreadfully dull.”

  Avalon tensed at this, but she seemed to know that the less one engaged Emily, the better.

  Only if I had learned that lesson more quickly.

  “Avalon, might I have a word alone?” I said, scooting closer to Avalon and reaching out for her hand resting on her lap, but Avalon lifted it to her face, dabbing her eyes again and avoiding my touch. I withdrew, hurt.

  “We’re all friends here, Lord York,” Emily said, “I’m sure whatever you have to say I can hear. Isn’t that right, my dear?” The last directed at Avalon. “After all, Lord York and I know each other quite well, don’t we Arthur?”

  She giggled. More like a cackle, really.

  Avalon looked up at her aunt and then over to me. I kept my face still, betraying nothing. She knew. I could see it in her face. The minimal slight I felt ,mere moments ago when she avoided my touch reflected in her face a thousand times stronger. It was the look of heartbreak. Betrayal.

  Now Emily laughed heartily. “Oh my! Was it love?” she said cruelly.

  Avalon stood up and stormed from the room.

  Emily continued to laugh and fan herself. She seemed pickled pink. I was having none of this. In a blink of her eye, I was upon her. That cut her derisive laughter short. My hand was upon her throat, and I lifted her to meet me, eye to eye. Her eyes were wide with fear, but I could still see the desire deep within, which angered me even more.

  “Know that I can snap your neck without effort, woman.” I breathed the words into her face before I dropped her back onto the chair.

  And with that, I was gone.

  Chapter 19

  Several weeks went by, and I called on Avalon every day, but she refused to see me. Every evening I brought her fresh cut flowers and letters with proclamations of love, but she still refused. Every day I sent Thomas with more professions, but he was turned away as well.

  After each night’s refusal, I kept more of a distance, watching her from afar, determined to ensure her safety and well-being. From the rooftop of the building across from hers, I’d watch through her window until she turned in for the night. She spent much time in Victor’s study, going through his papers and organizing his books. With the help of a feather duster, she dusted all his contraptions from one end of the room to the other, and then started over dusting them again. She would do this for hours until her eyelids began to droop. After she went to sleep, I’d stay until dawn, just in case she’d wake again.

  The next night I would return with more flowers and more proclamations of my love. And so the cycle continued.

  I wouldn’t give up. I had eternity to turn her around. She had fallen in love with me, and she must love me still! Else she wouldn’t care so much about Emily. Right? I tried to convince myself, but it fell flat. The thought that I had destroyed my only chance for love in over three centuries because of a tryst depressed me.

  As the weeks progressed, she dusted less and cried less, seemingly coming to a sort of acceptance, but she still wouldn’t accept my gifts or my company. I stopped going there at night, but I didn’t stop trying. Instead, each morning I sent Thomas with new flowers and a new letter.

  Each day he returned with the flowers smashed and the letter torn to bits. I no longer went out at all. Not for galas or parties or to the park. I stayed in, day and night. I even stopped dressing. I just stayed in my dressing gown day and night, watching life go by outside the window. A life that I was no longer a part of. A life that I did not understand.

  Other than that, things returned to relatively normal around my abode. I began having Cecil visit the butcher’s for blood. Animals blood was certainly not as tasty, but I found that I didn’t want anything human but Avalon. I would deny myself human blood as long as she denied herself to me. I drank enough blood to sustain me, but my depression lingered. Nicholas dropped by a few times for tea, but I had Cecil dismiss him. I was not up for entertaining. Cecil worried about me. He said it wasn’t healthy to stay in all day and all night. That I needed to get back out in society. That I would get over Avalon if I just let her go. She was but another woman in the thousands I had known.

  Did the man not know me? It had been over three hundred and fifty years, and I was still not over Catherine. I would hold Avalon in my heart until the day I finally expired from this cursed existence.

  I sat in front of the large window in my parlor one evening, dressed only in my dressing gown. Cecil served tea and added twenty drops. But he could hold his tongue no longer.

  “This isn’t like you, m’lord,” Cecil said. “You’re wasting away. You need someone to eat. No more animal blood, m’lord, you need human blood. Just look at yourself.” He pulled out a small looking glass and held it in front of me. I was all but invisible. I was truly fading away, just as I felt. Good. Let me fade from this tiresome world.

  “This isn’t healthy, m’lord. You’re so much better than this, and I won’t sit by and watch you do this to yourself any longer.”

  Thomas stepped into the room as well and spoke from just inside the door, “I’m with Cecil on this one, m’lord. Do forgive my
insolence, m’lord, but we are quite concerned for your health.”

  “Leave me alone, both of you. I have no desire for drink or anyone but her. Just leave me be.” I turned my back to them and looked out the window. Grey. Always grey. Lighter grey during the day. Smoky grey at night. Always, always grey.

  “You’re heartbroken, m’lord. I understand that,” Cecil continued, speaking to my back. “I’ve been heartbroken myself as has Thomas here.”

  “Yes, m’lord. That’s true, m’lord.”

  “But it is not the end,” Cecil continued. “You need to go out. You need to feed and find some pleasurable company. Once you do, it will hurt less. Trust me, m’lord.”

  “I’m not interested in any of that, man. Are you not listening to me? I only want her.” I dismissed them both with a lazy wave of my hand, but they didn’t leave.

  “You’re 350 years old!” Cecil exclaimed, suddenly animated. He abandoned his normal proper demeanor and spoke to me as if we were equals. Big mistake. “You’ve survived centuries.

  You’re more powerful than any other being that we know of, and you’re going to let this one, small human do this to you? If I may be so bold, m’lord. She’s not even that attractive. You can do better much than the likes of her.”

  That got a reaction. I spun around in a blur of movement and went toward his throat, meaning to pin him against the wall, but he stepped out of the way in time, causing me to stumble and nearly fall.

  “You see, m’lord,” Cecil said tenderly. “You need to feed. Even your agility has been affected.”

  I looked at Thomas, the big, lankly lug, and only concern showed in his features. Neither of them laughed at my clumsiness or pain. They did truly care about me.

  “Perhaps you are right.”

  “Of course I am, m’lord. So go out. Find some wench and drink her, then fuck her. You’ll feel better, m’lord, I promise. Then in a few more nights you can do it again. You’ll be back to your old self again in no time.”

  “But, Avalon--” I whimpered.

  “--is not interested, m’lord,” Cecil said. “Forgive my boldness, but you need to move on. You have been here long before her and you will be around long after she is dead. Best stick to the way life works for you, m’lord. Give it a few days, and you’ll start to feel better.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.”

  “Yes, m’lord. I’ll lay out some clothes for you, m’lord.”

  Good man, Cecil.

  Thomas clicked his heels in his excitement at the prospect of me going out, bowed, and said,

  “I’ll have the coach ready for you presently, m’lord.”

  Good man, Thomas.

  Their concern for me was quite moving.

  I met Cecil up in my chamber and he helped me dress in relatively casual clothes. He buttoned the waistcoat and held out a frock coat so that I might put my arms through. My movements were slow and sluggish. Still much stronger than a human, mind you, but weak for my kind. I did need to feed. Perhaps just a little, leaving whomever alive, but without a memory of it, of course. Just for my strength was all.

  Cecil handed me my bowler hat and walking stick at the front door..I walked out into the London night for the first time in what seemed like ages. Must’ve only been a month or so, but time had lost all meaning since I lost my Avalon.

  Thomas dropped me off near Westminster Abbey where my nieces lay side by side. The sadist and savior of England lay side by side. It was where I belonged, still in my own tomb out in Worcester. Still, what’s past is past.

  I walked by the Palace of Westminster just as Big Ben chimed midnight. The bells filled the air of the West Bank, overpowering the clattering of the few carriages that were left. I crossed the Thames on Westminster Bridge on the way down to the docks where I could find willing tarts to satisfy me. In the middle of the bridge I paused a moment to look over into the black waters. Not much of a moon tonight, yet the glowing face of the clock tower reflected perfectly on the water.

  As I looked more closely, I could make out the silhouette of the Houses of Parliament and the great arches of Westminster Bridge on which I stood. I watched for quite some time, long after the bell had stopped chiming.

  Cecil was right. I was better than this. I was behaving like a lovesick fool. I, Heir Apparent. I, Prince of Wales. I, Spring-Heeled Jack who harnesses powers of darkness. Why should I change my life? After all, it had worked for me for hundreds of years. I was better than this, and it was time to behave like a man again. I would find someone new. Perhaps someone new every night.

  With my renewed confidence, I strode to the south bank and turned to walk along side the great river. Many were out tonight. As the stories of vampires and murder faded from the front page, people ventured out again in greater numbers than before. Through the South Bank, I passed many an alley already occupied with rapid breath, grunts, and moans. It stirred something below. Building up my resolve and justifying my actions, I continued along until I saw a young woman sitting on the south bank of the Thames, perhaps only twenty or so. A little young for my taste, but so completely the opposite of Avalon. Blonde. Buxom. Short. Filthy. She’d do.

  “Follow me,” I said to her.

  She didn’t hesitate. She needed the money to eat, no doubt. I led her down an empty alleyway into the shadows, and she followed willingly. I stopped in front of a pile of shipping crates which were out of any sort of light. The darkness permeated my pores and filled me with strength and determination. I began to recognize myself, and I remembered how good life was before Avalon. Well, perhaps ‘good’ wasn’t the right word, but at least it was without pain.

  Pleasantly tolerable. Let’s leave it at that.

  “What’s yer pleazha, Gov?” the ragged waif said.

  She looked up at me, awaiting directions.

  “Can you do this without speaking?” I asked. “There’s five pounds in it for you.”

  She nodded. Good girl.

  “Turn around and bend over those crates.” She did.

  I lifted her skirts and felt a familiar warmth move into my loins. It was coming all back to me now. It hadn’t been a bad life, after all. And this girl was full and wet and ready for me. I slid my hand up between her legs, feeling her wet warmth and hardened some more. I truly had missed this.

  “Now,” I whispered, unbuttoning my trousers. “This might sting at first, and I’ll be none too gentle. But I won’t hurt you...much, understand?”

  She nodded.

  I took myself out, ready to bury myself into that sultry basket, but I went limp in my hands.

  My thoughts swam with images of Avalon and tears got stuck in my throat.

  I couldn’t do it.

  Feed first, I thought. I just needed to feed first is all.

  I pulled the girl’s hair back from her neck and felt my fangs descend. I was really hungry after all, but as I went to bite, my fangs retracted!

  The girl looked back at me and said, “Evry’fing awright, Gov?”

  Impotent. An old, impotent, lovesick fool. I was pathetic. I pulled the fiver from my pocket and slapped it down next to her head on the crate, causing her to jump.

  “Stay here until I’m gone. Understand?” I said. Even my voice was full of pathos.

  She nodded.

  I stuffed my faulty member back in my trousers and skulked away, blood tears falling down my pasty cheeks.

  I was undone. I was finished.

  There was no going back. Avalon was my world. Without her, I was truly nothing.

  Chapter 20

  I couldn’t bring myself to tell Cecil what had happened, as I was mortified with embarrassment. Still, it only meant that I was completely in love with Avalon, and there was no shame in love. I kept mostly to my room and instructed him to serve me animal’s blood. I fancied that some of my strength returned and discovered that Thomas was donating his own blood to keep me healthy. Good man, Thomas.

  The letters to Avalon continued, and I tried not to sound as path
etic as I felt, but I no doubt did. There was never a response.

  I didn’t even know how much time had passed, but one day, Thomas returned with a reply from Avalon. It was the same day that the newspaper headlines once again screamed of murder.

  “It’s happening again” was all the note said. That and a time: 7:30.

  That evening, I dressed for the first time in weeks. Wearing my very best coat and a silver and black brocade waistcoat, I stepped out to see my beloved. She would see how fine a gentleman I am and she would love me once again.

  There waiting for me at the door was Nicholas holding a crucifix out at arm’s length.

  “Get back foul creature!”

  Really?

  His stance was quite defensive and his jaw clenched. He had brought friends along, about six, looked like. Two held Thomas back. Passersby began to stare. He was being quite rude.

  “What exactly are you doing here, Nicholas? What is the meaning of all this.” I turned to face his friends. “Unhand my man.”

  “Don’t,” he ordered them without turning around. “I know it’s you Arthur. First the coincidences at the party and brothel. Now you’ve been locked away for all these weeks. You’re pale and sickly. Something isn’t right with you. Leave it to you, Arthur. Only you would have the temerity to be a vampire.”

  “Vampire!” I laughed. “Nicholas. You do have quite the imagination, but you are an idiot,” I said, grabbing the cross out of his hand. I made sure to move at human speed, which was still too fast for this halfwit. He took several steps back, covering his eyes, until he was in line with the rest of his gang.

  I just waited. The people nearby who had been alarmed by Nick’s initial actions were now beginning to laugh and point. Nicholas peeked through splayed fingers.

  “Why isn’t that burning you?” he asked. “I read father’s books, and a crucifix should burn the undead.”

  “It’s a trick, sir,” one of his lackeys said.

  “Rather,” I said, tossing it back to him. “Maybe it’s because I’m not a vampire, you dolt.