The Victorian Vampire

by Nick James

  ‘Maybe I should burn this; not even the Germans drop anything this deadly,’ I commented, and then shielded myself as a hail of slaps came my way. I was smitten. ‘So, what do you do for a living? Children’s entertainer?’ Slap!

  Veronica crossed her arms and took a minute or two to answer. ‘I’m a secretary at the Daily Express, Mr Captain, sir,’ she said, still displaying a cute pout on her face as she mock saluted me. Her look softened when I smiled.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  The woman shrugged. ‘It’s okay, it pays my rent. Well, if my flat is still there, mind you.’ She gave a dark chuckle.

  ‘Ah, you’ll be okay. You’re a lucky girl – you met me, after all,’ I said, giving her my best smile. I was doing my absolute best not to listen to her heartbeat, and of course not go on a killing spree – all these bodies with heightened emotions.

  She laughed again. ‘So, what do you really do, or can’t you say?’

  I sighed. ‘I know it’s what everyone says, but I can’t tell you.’ I saw her sag. ‘But what I can say is that I look for naughty foreign people.’ Veronica’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  ‘Well, you caught me, Mr Captain, sir.’ She chuckled with her hands held up in surrender. We then heard the old woman grumble about kids and the lack of respect. ‘So what are you going to do with me?’ she asked with a wink.

  It was then that the all-clear signal echoed throughout the streets above, and now the heart-breaking search for loved ones and clean-up would start. I could see some people heading out, but those with families seemed happy to continue to hunker down for the night.

  ‘Would you like to go to the cinema one night?’ I asked.

  Veronica flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘How about you take me to a dance? There’s one near work just off Fleet Street,’ she suggested, almost bouncing with excitement.

  ‘Sure, I’ll get my dancing shoes on,’ I responded, and for the first time in years I felt excited. ‘Would you like me to escort you home? A young lady shouldn’t go anywhere alone at this time of the night.’ Even in the bad lighting I could see her blush.

  ‘That would be nice, thank you, Captain,’ she said, and we both heard the old woman continue to grumble.

  I stood up and held out my hand; her dainty fingers wrapped around mine as I pulled her to her feet. I led her out of the tube station hand in hand like a mother elephant leads her young. She followed me closely, and finally we were out into the not so fresh night-time air, and that’s when I finally saw Veronica in her monochrome best.

  The lady that caused me to feel hope again stood at a mighty five foot six with a classic hourglass figure. She looped her arm through mine and we walked off into the night. We chatted about her family. Unfortunately, her mother had passed away during childbirth and her father died from a heart attack in 1935. That’s why she came to London from Buckinghamshire. Veronica had no family and neither did I. When it was time to tell my story, I started to spin my web of lies and half-truths, but I had a feeling she wasn’t convinced.

  ‘Well, Mr Captain, this is me,’ she said, pointing to a red door with number 37 on it. I felt her squeeze my hand. ‘Pick me up here, say seven on Friday?’

  I nodded. ‘I’ll be here.’ Giving her hand a squeeze back, she then surprised me by going on tiptoes and placing a kiss on my cheek.

  ‘Goodnight, Mr Captain,’ she said with a smile before heading in through her front door.

  I held my breath as the door clicked to and she ascended up to her flat. I could feel that her pulse was racing – and if I had one, mine would be, too.

  The smile on my face didn’t leave for days, even as I tore the head off Edward Perkins, or Stefan Krueger as was his real name. He did seem somewhat confused as I tried to question him with that permanent smile taunting him. It only left when he said that all the English women would be used to fill all the brothels in the Reich. The monster who slumbers inside me painted his flat with blood and internal organs.

  Friday night arrived. I put on my freshly cleaned uniform and walked out into the failing daylight. I just hoped for a bomb-free night. My travel through London was uneventful, getting respectful nods from coppers and air raid wardens alike. I made it to my goal, number 37, in one piece and with zero spots of blood on my face or clothing.

  I gave the door a knock. I could feel her excitement and heard her rushing around her flat. But I also heard another couple arguing, and somebody having a very loud bowel movement, so I pulled back my senses. It really does have plus and minus points.

  ‘Albert, you made it,’ Veronica said after throwing open the door. She looked stunning wearing an over-the-knee red dress with low black heels.

  ‘You doubt an officer of His Majesty’s armed forces? How dare you, young lady,’ I stated in mock disbelief, and then received a slap with her hand which sported freshly painted nails.

  She then pulled me into a hug and gave me another kiss.

  ‘Are you trying to corrupt me, Miss Jenkins?’ I asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

  A slight blush crept over her cheeks. ‘Well, maybe a little, Mr Captain, sir.’ The tones she used for just those few words were like liquid silk that infused themselves to my bones.

  She looped her hand through my arm and we walked off towards our destination, one of the many dance halls nearby.

  We chatted softly as we stood in the queue shoulder to shoulder. Other servicemen gave me respectful nods knowing what my insignia meant.

  ‘You will have to tell me what you do one day, Albert?’ she asked while cuddling into my side.

  ‘But if I did, I would have to kill you…my dear.’ I gave her an evil grin, which earned me another slap. All the women in my life have been hitters. Makes you think a bit, but not for too long.

  Her blonde hair ruffled as a breeze blew down the street. ‘You’re way too good at that look, Albert, so I won’t press you tonight,’ she said with a little laugh as the crowd started to move inwards.

  ‘Would you like a drink, Veronica?’ I asked as we entered the huge hall.

  She didn’t answer but instead took my hand and pulled me amongst the crowd filling the dance floor as the band started to play. As the rhythm of the songs changed, we did not. Our bodies fitted perfectly together, our eyes were locked and we retreated into our own world. We didn’t hear the grumbles as we danced to our own music at that moment in war-torn Britain. There were only two people on the planet, and that was us.

  We were sharing a coffee when the call of nature caused Veronica to shuffle off, so I went to place another order at the hall’s café. I saw her red dress and blonde hair first, then her smile, which instantly wavered as a couple of suited men barred her way through the crowd, and from what I could hear they were not taking no for an answer. I looked over at a sailor and his date at the next table.

  ‘Excuse me, but would you mind looking after my drinks while I retrieve my girl?’ I asked politely.

  The burly ensign looked over. ‘Do you need help, mate,’ he boomed. Clearly, his time on the ships was noisy and he knew what I was looking at.

  ‘No, thank you, just look after your lovely lady and our table?’ I asked.

  His date, a pretty little redhead who had a smattering of freckles all over her face, blushed. The big man nodded and grasped his date’s hand.

  My chair scraped back loudly, turning a few heads, although not the two idiots who were hindering my date. But when she saw that I was on my way over, the look of panic on Veronica’s face turned to mischief. I could hear them demanding a dance and then a drink outside, but at every request she pushed back slapping away their hands and telling them that she had a boyfriend.

  ‘Hello there,’ I said coldly, making the men turn. ‘Are you okay, Veronica?’ I held out my hand to her. She was about to take it when the cheap-suited twenty-year-olds pushed it away.

  The bigger one, whose nose seemed to point due west, took a step forward. ‘Piss off, mate, the lady is with us now.�
� His grin showed off very crooked teeth.

  I held up my hand to placate them. ‘Listen, boys, I don’t want any trouble, especially with the bloody Nazis bombing us nightly,’ I said honestly, seeing other serviceman getting up. ‘Let me just take my girlfriend so we can have a coffee.’

  The two men exchanged glances and a smirk. ‘Nah, I don’t think so, mate. You’re on our turf,’ the bigger man said, stepping towards me.

  That’s where it stopped. A quick punch to the throat sent him down choking and gasping for breath. Then his skinnier and less lethal friend swung a surprisingly large fist towards my face, which I promptly caught. With a quick twist his wrist was broken.

  ‘You bastard, you broke my wrist!’ the crying, skinny man shouted.

  I leaned down. ‘I know, and you still have many other bones I could break if you don’t go away,’ I hissed into his dirty ear. ‘And take your mate with you. He doesn’t look well.’ I then straightened up and took Veronica’s hand. Instead of looking scared, she just looked amused, especially when she stepped over the man clasping his throat and allowed her heel to hit him on the back of his head.

  ‘Thank you, Albert, I was worried that our coffee was getting cold,’ she said loudly, making some of the other patrons laugh as we headed back to our table.

  I pulled the chair out for my date and shook the ensign’s hand, palming him a few crowns. ‘Thanks for that, chap, buy your date some food on me,’ I said with a smile. He went to argue, but I slightly increased the pressure on the strong sailor’s hand. That simple act impressed him enough to accept and whisk off his redhead for fish and chips. On a plate, not from a bag – it’s the little touches nowadays.

  After our coffees we were dancing again, twirling ourselves around the dancefloor, our eyes never once leaving each other. We were in our own world again. I hadn’t felt like this since sharing my life with my dearest Annabel, and I hoped that she was happy for me.

  As the night came to an end, we filtered out with the rest of the couples onto the chilly London streets. I pushed out my senses to find the troublemakers, and those who had ill feeling towards me and my date, but there were none. The crowds started to thin out the closer we got to her lodgings.

  ‘You okay, Mr Captain? A shilling for your thoughts.’ Veronica tightened her grip on my arm.

  I looked at Veronica’s face, which seemed to glow in the moonlight, although it had a ghostly pale to it, but her eyes did glisten. ‘No, I’m okay, just making sure our friends are not following us,’ I answered, smiling at her.

  We chatted about this and that. Several times I checked our surroundings, but we were safe. Then finally we made it to her red front door. I sensed her nerves were afire.

  ‘Well, this is me, Mr Captain,’ she said softly. Turning to face me and slightly tilting her head upwards, she gently captured my lips.

  I was lost. Her kiss was soft and warm like the rest of her. Then the beauty pulled back.

  ‘Wow,’ I mumbled and smirked at her. ‘Tonight was wonderful.’

  Veronica kissed me again but for longer. ‘It was the best night ever, Albert. When can we go out again?’ she asked, her heart beating rapidly. ‘How about a walk in the park on Sunday and maybe lunch somewhere?’

  And here came the lies. ‘I would love to, but I work during the days, and as you know it’s a busy time.’ I hated myself as I saw her face drop with disappointment. ‘But would you like to come for dinner? My home is still a bit dated from my relatives, but it’s nice enough.’ I felt instantly that I had struck gold. Her heart fluttered and she blessed me with another kiss. We made plans before she headed through her front door. I could hear her giggling like a schoolgirl all the way up the stairs to her flat.

  I hid in the shadows for a few hours just to make sure the idiots didn’t follow us at a distance, but we were in the clear, all except a mugger who tried to rob me. I really don’t know why they do it but snapping his wrist and feeding on him while allowing him to change turned the unlucky bugger into ash. Fully sated, I headed home to say hello to the photo of my wife.

  There she was in her stoic glory, as was the style of the time thanks to the camera of the era. I looked at the photo of our wedding day. She was so gorgeous in all her black and white beauty. I stared into those eyes that I missed so much and smiled. ‘Anna, I miss you so much it hurts. You were my guiding star; you gave me a purpose not to become the monster that dwells inside me,’ I whispered as tears started to swamp my eyes. ‘I met someone, she’s really nice, and I’ve invited her for a meal in our home. I hope you don’t mind.’

  I didn’t know what I was hoping for, an ethereal voice telling me, the house shaking to its roots, but nothing, which was good as I needed to move on, and I don’t mean by gracing Suzie’s bed more often. I needed to be part of something again, and hopefully Veronica and I could become as strong as Anna and I were.

  I checked all the photos of my family in the house. They would pass any detailed examination by Veronica, apart from our joint one with Emily and Stanley. It was the only time we could get the little bugger Stan clean and standing still long enough. The picture was moved into the chest of drawers wrapped in a homemade scarf that Emily had made me, but it was over four metres long – she just didn’t stop knitting. That memory did make me laugh.

  Looking at the photos took me back to a moment before Anna passed. We were alone in the house with her favourite Gustav Holst record on the phonograph. I pulled her up from her seat and started to sway to the music.

  ‘I love this, Berty. The music and us dancing together. It warms me, my love,’ Anna had whispered into my chest as I held her close.

  I placed a kiss on her head. ‘I love it, too. It wouldn’t be the same if I wasn’t dancing with you, Anna.’ We had relaxed into the music which surrounded us. I missed my Anna so much, but it was time.

  On the Saturday evening I headed to see my boss, Major Matterson. Now, I think that I look clean and tidy, but I swear this man slept under an iron. The tall man stood up behind his desk and offered his hand.

  ‘Good evening, Albert, how are you?’ After shaking his hand, he offered me a seat.

  ‘I am well, thank you, sir,’ I replied as I settled and put my cap on his desk. ‘And you, sir?’

  The stress poured out of the man in waves. ‘I’m good. Just busy, you know how it is – too many things to do, not enough people,’ he said and reached into his desk drawer to bring out the half a bottle of whisky, which led me to bring out my hip flask of his now favourite navy rum. He stilled and a rare smile appeared on his face as the bottle slipped back into the safety of his desk. ‘Well, it’ll be rude not to,’ he said, holding out a tumbler. The major licked his lips as the syrup-like alcohol slowly filled his glass, then mine after.

  We both took a small sip in silence as we appreciated the drink. ‘So, Sam, what can I do for you? Normally I just receive instructions via courier?’ I asked and swilled the thick liquid.

  ‘Firstly, have you got any more of this rum that I could give to the Prime Minster? If Winston likes it, I might get an increase in staff,’ said Samuel.

  I fixed him a glare but it ended up with a smile. ‘Of course, I do have a few bottles of the stuff, but give him a taster first and see if you can trade it for something we both like instead,’ I suggested and opened my gasmask bag before lifting out a sealed bottle of the Battle of Trafalgar rum.

  Samuel’s eyes went wide. ‘Amazing, but you want me to haggle with the Prime Minister over a bottle of rum?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I want you to haggle with him over a one of a kind bottle of rum.’ I gave him a winning smile, pushing out my incisors to slam the topic home.

  ‘Fine, but put those bloody things away,’ he said, pointing at my mouth.

  I laughed as I watched the man cradle the bottle like his firstborn. Somehow, I doubted if it would ever leave this small office ever again.

  ‘Right, the reason I have you here is that the U-boat situation is getting cr
itical, as you know,’ he announced officially, looking up to see me nod in agreement. ‘The wolf packs have been decimating our poor boys in the Atlantic, and the Admiralty has asked for a favour.’

  I squinted at him. ‘It must be a big favour given the look on your face, and your heart is racing like an engine,’ I commented and chuckled as I took the folder.

  ‘Don’t do that either; it scares the shit out of me that you can hear my heartbeat,’ he grumbled while still stroking the bottle.

  ‘Sam, should I leave you two alone?’ I asked, pointing at him and the bottle.

  For the first and only time in our working relationship I saw the man blush and hurry to put the bottle away to join the whisky in the confines of his drawer. I turned my attention back to the file. There were five photos of German servicemen.

  ‘They want me to kill all of these men. They are U-boat captains. How the hell am I meant to do that, pull the plug on the Atlantic?’ I said incredulously, slamming the file on the desk before downing my rum quickly and then refilling both glasses from my flask.

  He took a big sip of the dark and potent drink. ‘The Admiralty seems to think the Hun are going for a big push, and these five captains are amongst their best. At the moment their submarines are docked for repairs and being refitted with new torpedo tubes for this new push. They want the best for their best,’ Samuel explained and flicked open his own copy of the file. ‘For safety they are staying at five different boarding houses surrounding their harbour with a strong army presence. But every night they have meals together at Casino le Lorient in a private dining room along with their second in commands to plan the coming patrols.’

  ‘So, they want me to take them all out. That’s a big order, especially in occupied territory itself,’ I admitted.

  ‘I know, Albert, but we plan to parachute you in on Tuesday evening. Hopefully you can deal with them on the Wednesday night. This is particularly important as we plan to bomb the area at midnight on the Thursday night. We just need definite kills of these particular men, you understand?’