by J. R. Rain
Absolutely none of this was making sense, and to top it off, my stomach was gurgling with, I assumed, anxiety. Although that would be a first for me.
“And they all live here?” I asked.
“Of course. They are my children, Ms. Moon. Do your children not live with you? Now, a small handful have left the fold. And I miss each tremendously.” He let his words hang in the air. He didn’t look at Kingsley; then again, he didn’t have to.
“There is such a thing as free will, doctor,” said Kingsley. “Franklin made his choice.”
Lichtenstein nodded at that, pondered it, and said, “There is also such a thing as gratefulness. My other children are grateful, so much so that they...” He let his voice trail off.
I deduced the direction he was going, and so did Kingsley. “That they worship you,” said Kingsley, who didn’t bother disguising his contempt. Kingsley and the not-so-good-doctor seemed to have some history, and I let it play out. Why should I intrude? Besides, it wasn’t every day that one got to see a real-live werewolf and, for all intents and purposes, the real Dr. Frankenstein, work out their grievances.
“Perhaps some see me as...”—he tried to look humble—“... a sort of god, yes.”
“And do you remind them that you are only a lonely scientist looking to make friends. Emphasis on make.”
“Oh, I am looking to make much more than friends, Mr. Fulcrum.” The doctor reached over and refilled his glass of wine. “I’m looking to create a whole new race. Emphasis on create.”
Kingsley rolled his eyes. Perhaps a little drunkenly.
“Yes, I might sound crazy, Mr. Fulcrum. I might even sound like the world’s loneliest man. But I have been given the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. I have been given the ability to create life where there was none before.”
“And you would be their god.”
“Is that so bad? My children have a natural affinity to me. I haven’t quite understood that. It is a rare offspring who leaves the fold completely.”
A sudden thought occurred to me. “You use your own blood to help galvanize them back to life.”
“Of course, Ms. Moon. My blood and another. All combined under the right conditions, with the right science, with the right intent.”
“Intent?” I asked.
“A powerful intent can move mountains, Ms. Moon. In this case, help spring forth life.”
Coming from anyone else, this would have sounded like quackery at its best, but I had seen his monsters. I had seen their apparent loyalty as well. What else would explain the compound filled with freaks? Indeed, Dr. Lichtenstein was clearly onto something. Whether he was onto something worthwhile or not, I didn’t know.
“Why here?” asked Kingsley. “Why in Lake Elsinore?”
“Why not? It’s a fairly quiet town. Most people keep to themselves. Most people stay away from the castle, too. Those who don’t, get run off.” He glanced at me. Or beaten to a bloody pulp, his glance seemed to say. He continued: “We’ll pick up shop someday, when the time is right. For now, we have our space, and I am very, very at home here in this modern-day castle. Fitting, if you ask me.”
“Cliché, if you ask me,” said Kingsley.
“Perhaps, but this home gives me pleasure, and so do my children, and so do all my future children. Speaking of which, I have something of Franklin’s that I’ve been meaning to return to him. Something I am sure he would appreciate having.”
I was wondering what the devil it might be. An arm? A foot? Photos from his past? Maybe information on the family he’d left behind?
Kingsley arched a caterpillar-like eyebrow. “Very well. I’m sure he would appreciate it.”
“Well, it’s something I’ve been meaning to give him, something I know he would want, even if he doesn’t remember. Perhaps it’s better that I show you? And you can decide.”
“Very well,” said Kingsley, and as he said those words, my inner alarm, which had been pinging mildly this entire time, picked up its tempo.
I grabbed my wolf’s hand. “Maybe I should go with you.”
Lichtenstein laughed heartily at that. “There’s no one here interested in your werewolf boyfriend, Ms. Moon. I assure you, he will be back in no time. Please, stay seated. We will return.”
And with that, Kingsley leaned down, kissed me on the cheek, promised he would be okay, and then left with Dr. Lichtenstein.
I was alone in the sitting room, and not liking it.
Not one bit.
Chapter Fifty-two
I paced the small sitting room.
And the more I paced, the weaker I felt. And not just weak, but my stomach hurt like hell, too. That was new. Oh, and something else that was new: the beginning of a headache. A doozy of a headache, too.
Meanwhile, my inner alarm was growing in volume, but not obnoxiously so, not like it had when I found myself on the wrong end of a monster mash. No, these warning bells were meant to just get my attention, to let me know that no good would come from being here for very much longer. But, if I knew my alarm correctly—and I think I did—there was no imminent danger to me... yet.
So, what had set off the alarm? Any number of things. The potentiality for harm was everywhere. I was, after all, surrounded by a sea of Lichtenstein monsters, undead humans housing the lost souls of the lowest of the low dark masters. Perhaps ‘master’ was being too generous. The walking husks that I had seen barely exhibited life, let alone intelligence. And thinking about all this only seemed to make my head hurt more.
I continued pacing, wondering where Kingsley had been taken, wondering why my inner alarm had picked up, and wondering why I felt so damn... weak.
I nearly paused and sat down, but I continued pacing, alternately running my hands through my thick hair and holding my upset stomach. I tried the sitting room door, and found it locked. Generally, locked doors take about as much time to open as an unlocked door. But, as I turned the handle, this lock felt heavy, impenetrable, eternal. I released the handle and continued pacing, now rubbing my temples.
Silver, I thought, releasing my hand, which now burned. The handle was made of silver. Probably not the locking mechanism itself, but the handle sure was.
I told myself I could just sit and wait and relax and try to feel better. Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s sit and relax and maybe the pain will subside, a pain that had now spread to my arms and legs and chest. I sat, breathed, held my head and stomach, and anything else I could hold.
I felt drugged. I also felt as if I had been run over by a truck. A thought that left me feeling panicked all over again. After all, how could I save Tammy, feeling like this? How could I save anyone, let alone myself, feeling like this?
I shot up out of the chair. I stumbled over to the door and gripped the handle and turned with all my strength, even while my hands burned and smoked and hissed. Nothing much moved. No cracking of tumblers, or breaking of the doorjamb itself.
From behind the door, I heard footsteps.
A single set of footsteps, that is.
I released the damnable lever and stepped back, hands burning. I gasped, breathing hard, and waited for the door to open...
***
Dr. Lichtenstein was alone.
“Where’s... where’s Kingsley?” I gasped. I suddenly needed to sit. I stumbled back into a straight-back chair, holding my chest.
“I see the colloidal silver is taking effect. Good. Shame you didn’t drink more of the wine, Ms. Moon. Let’s just hope you ingested enough to play nicely.”
Sold in many health food stores, I knew the stuff. It was meant to aid health by ingesting traces of silver. Or, perhaps, it was meant to stop vampires. “Where’s... Kingsley?”
“Oh, he’s not very far at all. Lucky for us, he drank more than his fair share. Much, much more. He didn’t put up much of a resistance at all.” The doctor chuckled and swept through the sitting room and over to the hanging tapestry.
“You, you drank it, too,” I gasped.
“
I did. I am immortal, like you and your werewolf friend. So are all my children. But, alas, we are neither vampire nor wolfman. Nor are we alchemists, although we are closest to the latter.”
“The boy... Luke...” I gasped. “Is he alive?”
“Really, Ms. Moon. Does it matter? The life of one boy? I suppose there might be some life in him, but I suspect we are reaching the point of no return. He is worth more alive than dead, but the alchemists have a way of zeroing in on their own. Better to get what I can from him, then dispose of him.”
“Monster...”
“I prefer... harvester, Samantha Moon. Is the farmer a monster for leaching nutrients from the soil? I don’t think so. And this boy in particular is so very rich in nutrients, Sam. The richest. A powerful young man, really.”
“The dark masters... are... using... you...” I gasped.
“I see you know your history, Ms. Moon. Yes, the so-called dark masters—although I am not beholden to anyone—provided me with the final clue. The final piece of the puzzle, if you will. A man, in fact, who claimed to be the dragon prince himself, Dracula. And, yes, they thought they could use me, to help bring back their own into this world. But little did they know the power of my mind. The control I have over every neuron and synapsis. Indeed, even now I can feel one of their dark entities within me, trying to escape. But I won’t allow it. And neither will my children; at least, those who are advanced enough to understand. I train each in the power of the mind. In truth, it is I who use the dark masters. Use them to create my children... and to live forever. While they reside only in shadows.”
I tried to sit up, but was too weak to even do that. My God, I’d only had a half a glass. Kingsley had, what, two glasses? Maybe three? A whole bottle?
“And you?” I asked, feeling a throbbing pain in seemingly every part of my body. “What are you?”
“I am like my creations, Samantha Moon. Like them, I have died, only to be reborn again. There is a reason I miss Franklin so.”
“He brought you back to life?”
“Of course, Ms. Moon. I drank arsenic and died. I was dead for two whole days before Franklin brought me back to life, using all my techniques to perfection.”
“You killed yourself?”
“It had to be done to be reborn, Sam. Ah, death is a beautiful thing. I saw things that I will never forget. But I knew I must return to Franklin, that I must lead my children forward into a brave new world.”
“You... you gave up eternity for this?”
“I would give up eternity a thousand times over for this, Sam. We are creating a new world, after all.”
“God... complex,” I gasped.
He grinned, and nodded. “Is having one so bad, Sam? It takes a rare creator to forge a new species, does it not?”
“Where’s Luke?”
“Being a particularly rich source of Hermetic blood, he’s being carefully attended to. The other boy, not so much. His blood was weak, diluted, impure, although delicious.”
“You... drink blood?”
“No, Sam. Although I can, and sometimes will. But, like your werewolf boyfriend, I and my children need to consume flesh, albeit twice a month, during full moons and new moons. Animals work nicely, and we have a small farm out back, full of chickens and sheep and other morsels. Only rarely do we feed upon people.”
I imagined a long dining hall full of Lichtenstein’s monsters, all feasting on raw meat. I shook my head, sickened all over again, and tried to sit up. As I did so, I noted some of my strength had returned. Indeed, some of the pain in my stomach had receded, too. The headache seemed to be fading, as well. The colloidal silver was, mercifully, wearing off, albeit slowly. I continued to play it up.
“Where... where is Kingsley?”
“Yes, Kingsley. He and I have a little history, Ms. Moon. After all, he went out of his way to steal away Franklin, my favorite creation. My most successful creation.”
“Seems to me like Franklin... left... on... his... own,” I said, and told myself to tone it down a tad.
“He did. But he had help, too. Most of my creations are incapable of surviving on their own. Even Franklin would need some help, at least initially. Food, shelter. Perhaps a job. Perhaps even legal paperwork. Kingsley provided all of that for him and more.”
“You should be... happy that one of your creations”—It was all I could do to not say monsters—“struck out on his own. You should be proud.” I needed to keep him talking. I needed more information. I needed to regain my strength. I needed to find the boy, find Kingsley, and then we needed to get the hell out of here and save Tammy...
All in a night’s work. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly nine. Three more hours...
“Perhaps I should be proud, Samantha. But I do not see it that way. I see it as betrayal. I see it as abandonment. I see it as worshiping a false god.”
It was all I could do to not roll my eyes.
“Mock me if you want, Sam, but my creations have a tendency to be beholden to their creator—”
And then, I suddenly got it. “And Franklin brought you back from the dead. He is, in essence, your creator.”
He smiled sadly. “Now you see the source of my distress, Sam. I am his creator, and he is mine.”
“Then why did he leave?”
“He was always a particularly free spirit. He had probably been so in his first life, too. His bond with me had always felt shaky, even from the very beginning.”
“And now he’s gone and bonded with Kingsley,” I said.
Lichtenstein’s eyes flashed. “Yes.”
“Which is why you hate Kingsley.”
“More than anything, Samantha Moon. More than anything on this fucking Earth.”
“Is it why you moved here?”
“I knew someday I would have my time in the sun. I did not know when that someday would arrive. I did not, in fact, expect to see the two of you enter my restaurant tonight. I knew you were in town, yes. In particular, I knew a vampire was in town. My children are everywhere, you see. They are my eyes and ears. Nothing surprises me in this town, my town. Yes, I knew you were here, and I knew your association with Kingsley, too. And, yes, I have been keeping tabs on the bastard werewolf for quite some time. Ever since he stole my Franklin.”
I sat forward, but that effort nearly caused me to vomit, a reminder that I was still not at full strength. I suddenly had a very, very bad feeling about all of this. Even worse than a few minutes ago, now that I knew the depths of the doctor’s hatred.
“Where’s Kingsley?”
Lichtenstein grinned—maniacally, I might add. “Better I show you.”
And with that, he stepped over and, like a shower curtain, yanked aside the heavy tapestry. Behind it was a floor-to-ceiling window. I blinked, confused. That is, until Lichtenstein flipped a switch near the glass.
“See for yourself, Samantha Moon.”
I stood on still wobbly legs and headed over to the glass. Turned out it was actually a window that looked down into what could only be called an arena. A dirt arena, like a miniature bullfighting ring. And there, hunched over on all fours and vomiting violently, was my Kingsley. Sweat poured from his forehead and glistened off his forearms. He ducked his head away from the light, blinking. He’d been sitting there in the dark this entire time. Admittedly—and I hated myself for thinking this—he looked like a big, wet, shaggy, miserable dog.
“Your Kingsley is full of the colloidal silver, Ms. Moon. Look at him there, so sick and helpless. The silver should stop him from shape-shifting—just as it should stop you from shape-shifting, too. Yes, I know of your pet dragon.”
He would, of course, have known about Talos. After all, I’d transformed to escape his brute. “Why is he in there?”
“Like God, I love all my children. But also like God, I will strike down those who fail me... and recycle the best of them, always hoping to create a better man, a better servant, a better worshiper.”
I wasn’t entirely sure h
e had this God-complex business pegged, but the key here was that he believed it. Every word. I turned and looked at the man who stared down through the glass window, a man who gave crazy a whole new meaning, a man who just might have lost his mind not just decades ago, but whole centuries ago. A man who was too smart for his own good, too driven for his own good, too talented for his own good, too lonely for his own good. Combine all of that, and this was what you get: a castle full of lurching monsters, and a creator who demanded to be worshiped. A creator who loved his creations. A creator who punished them, too.
Lichtenstein pressed his hand flat against the glass. “And Kingsley’s been a very bad creation, Ms. Moon. Very, very bad.”
Chapter Fifty-three
As Kingsley continued vomiting—I think he was well into the dry-heave stage at this point—a panel near him slid open.
He didn’t notice at first, but I sure as hell did. And it was what stepped out of the panel that made my own mouth go dry. The biggest of Lichtenstein’s creations stepped out of what appeared to be a monster-sized cubbyhole. It occurred to me that this creature was always there, always waiting to be summoned. That it, in fact, lived in that cubbyhole.
Jesus.
“What is that thing?” I asked.
“That thing, Ms. Moon, is my most powerful of creations. He represents the best, the strongest, the most agile, powerful, and obedient of all my children. Nigel is the punisher. Nigel is the executioner, too. Nigel is all the things I have done right, and none of the things I have done wrong.”
“Ah, fuck,” I said, and pounded the glass. Except Kingsley was still hunched over, still dry-heaving. Probably dizzy as hell, too. He didn’t look up, even as I continued pounding, half-expecting the glass to shatter under the force of my blows. That is, until a hand seized my right wrist.
“Don’t make me subdue you, Ms. Moon.”
I was about to tell him he could fuck off when I saw that someone else had taken hold of my hand, someone who’d entered the room quietly. Someone with undeniable strength. I turned, slowly, and looked up into a nightmare. It was the same terrible security guard—Gunther, I believe he was called—who had beaten me to within an inch of my eternal life. I might have squeaked. Then I nodded to Lichtenstein, who, in turn, nodded to Gunther, who, in turn, begrudgingly released my wrist. I got the impression that Gunther would have preferred to continue the beating he’d started a few days ago. With one eye on Gunther, I turned my attention to the events unfolding in the arena.