by Damian Serbu
As Catherine launched ahead, Xavier fell back with Maria, thinking of his mistake in trying to return to the Church. He had little passion for religious work. He could never go back to being the former priest who pretended all was well while his stomach churned in agony. Maria sensed this, and though she never challenged Xavier, she harped on Thomas and even suggested that Xavier tell her where Thomas lived so that she could do away with him.
Maria, as if on cue, said, “Thomas is Satan, Xavier, and I’m glad that you work for God again.”
“Maria, he’s not evil.”
“There’s something sinister in that man. You’re better off in the Lord’s service.”
“I told you, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m not returning to the Church. Nor will I ever, because it would be hypocritical.”
“Blasphemy. Thomas puts those depraved thoughts in your head.”
“No, Maria, they’re all mine.”
She grunted and trudged ahead, but it irritated Xavier more than usual so he stopped. “What is it?”
She turned around. “What do you mean?”
“Why the dogma? Why stay in that church?”
“I stay because I made a pledge that I intend to keep.”
“To whom? You hate the Roman authorities as much as I do.”
“To God.”
“But not to the Catholic God. You’ve said so yourself.”
Maria stalked back to Xavier. “We all need something to guide us, and I don’t understand why you insist on denigrating what is important to me. Can we leave it at that?”
This befuddled Xavier. What did she mean? He agreed, on one condition, just to make peace. “I will agree if you stop berating Thomas.”
“That’s different.”
“I mean it.”
She shook her head slowly, her face red, but he had her trapped.
Unfortunately, their renewed silence gave Xavier time to think. He loved Thomas. He wanted to be lovers and marveled that such a thing could even exist. He had heard only of brief encounters and sexual escapades before this, yet Xavier could not reconcile this remarkable opportunity with the killing. Whether or not for survival, even if they only murdered the debased, Xavier could not imagine taking life.
The sight of a guillotine almost relieved him as the soldiers readied it for an execution because it took his mind off Thomas, at least until he saw the blankets on the ground, the vendors selling beverages, and peoples’ smiles. Xavier questioned all that he believed about mankind. What if wickedness were just as common as purity? These decapitations proved that something evil lingered in the people of Paris who watched the beheadings as a sport.
Unable to cope, Xavier waved to Maria and ran through Paris, bumping into people and nearly sick, not stopping until he finally reached home, where he threw himself on his bed. Perhaps, instead of cleaving to the righteousness of humanity, he needed to see a more complex picture, with faults, some good people, and, yes, some bad. Once again his world spiraled out of control. He escaped into sleep, and though early in the day, he drifted off to dream of better things.
Xavier: Murder
18 October 1793
TWO DAYS PASSED since Xavier had questioned mankind’s goodness. He had talked to Thomas, and though Thomas thought his new interpretation correct, he gently entreated Xavier to decide for himself. Xavier, of course, came to no solutions and instead tried to avoid the decision by spending his time on errands for Catherine, but the idle moments crept up on him nonetheless. In fact, he was sitting in his room, agonizing, when he heard screams and shouts at the door. With Catherine and Jérémie gone for the day, Xavier had to see about it, so he ran down the stairs in time to see four thugs, dressed in uniforms, smash clubs over the heads of two guards and storm into the foyer.
“We hear this house don’t support our government,” one said.
“And we hear that nuns are harbored here,” another shouted.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Xavier lied.
“Out of the way.” With that, he shoved Xavier to the ground and the four rampaged through the first and second floor, destroying artwork, overturning tables, and assaulting anyone who got in their way. Xavier followed them, but they continued to shove him aside, the officer who had asked Catherine her name the other day among them. Knowing that they meant to harm Maria and the other nuns, Xavier slunk toward the basement. When out of view, he ran down the stone steps and into the dank cellar.
Too late, however, Xavier realized his mistake, for one of them had spied Xavier leaving and was close behind. To keep him from Maria, Xavier stopped in the wine room and turned to go back upstairs. If ever Xavier had wished for Thomas it was now, but the sun was up.
“Who is it?” Maria called.
The fiend grinned, strode toward Xavier, and before Xavier could do anything smashed his fist into Xavier’s face, causing Xavier to crash into a wine rack and crumble to the ground.
Xavier had no idea how long he lay there, but he awoke in a pool of blood, his head aching though he otherwise felt unharmed. He checked to see that the bleeding had stopped as he slowly got up. It took a few moments to gain his senses, to recognize the wine cellar, and to recall what happened, as he looked around and saw overturned racks and smashed bottles. One of the fiends lay in a corner with a piece of glass sticking out of his head. He still breathed.
Then Xavier panicked. Where was Maria? When the room stopped spinning Xavier went toward the hallway that led to Maria’s rooms. He stopped, bent over, and vomited.
There was a nun’s dismembered body, naked and torn limb from limb, her head smashed against the wall and unrecognizable. Without a choice, Xavier cautiously headed down the hall but heard nothing as he stepped around the flesh and blood splattered everywhere. His heart pounded.
In the first room he discovered another nun, tied naked to a bed, her body intact but her head hung limply. She, too, was dead. The soiled sheets told him that they had raped her before breaking her neck. Again he vomited as he progressed and found one after another of the nuns naked, murdered, and bloody.
Now he cried, his head whirled, and then he thought again of Maria. Where was Maria?
As he walked back toward the cellar, rage infused his soul. Tears streamed down his face and mixed with the dried blood as he seethed, letting his fury take control in the wine cellar. Without hesitating, he picked up a sharp piece of glass, lunged at the bloodied man in the corner and repeatedly stabbed him in the chest until his breathing stopped. Dead. Killed. Murdered.
For the first time Xavier understood justice, which his theology had lacked. The sense that God punished those who sinned. He spit in the man’s face and continued his search for Maria.
His body ached as he climbed the steps. He noticed a trail of blood. Not a small amount or drops here and there, but a continuous stream two feet wide and thick. Xavier stopped, toppled over, and heaved again. He knew this blood before he reached the upper hallway and saw Maria lying face down, unable to move farther.
“No, no, no,” he said. He knelt beside her still breathing body, lifted her head onto his lap and cradled it in his arms. His body convulsed into sobs as he held her tightly. She bled profusely between her legs and her head was black and blue, yet slowly she opened her eyes. At first she recoiled until she recognized Xavier, then she rested her head back on his legs.
“Xavier,” she barely whispered. “I tried to stop them,” now she coughed up blood. “I got one of them in the cellar.”
“Shh, Maria, shh. I’ll get a doctor.”
“No,” she said loudly, laboring to breathe. “Stay with me.”
He obeyed.
Maria cried. “I thought they had killed you too when I went by your body. They have killed everyone, all of us. And the shame. They raped us.”
“Shh, save your strength. Please don’t die. I know what they did. We’ll catch them.”
“I don’t want to live.”
“Shh, you’ll heal. I need
you. I already lost Michel, I can’t lose you, too.”
She shook her head and called him closer. “Abbé, listen to me. I hope you know that I always loved you. You were my best friend.”
“I know. I love you, too. Now please be quiet.” Xavier wanted to deny her next words.
“I can’t live with this humiliation. There’s no way that I can go on. Don’t call the doctor, Xavier, please take me away.”
“You don’t mean what you say.”
“Yes, I do. All you need to do is stab me. They’ll never know it was you, but don’t make me live through this disgrace. I’ll probably die anyway. I don’t want to survive just to relive this over and over.”
“What about your faith? You can’t give up on your faith now. Suicide is forbidden.”
“That’s why you need to do it, and give my final rites.” More blood came from her mouth.
“This is ludicrous. I can’t do it.”
Maria closed her eyes as if to gather strength, her voice serious but not angry. “I wasn’t always right. You know that better than anyone. I tried to do the right thing but it didn’t always happen how it should. Please don’t hold that against me. I’m not delusional. Don’t mock me for my past and continued faith. I just need to know I’m going to a better place.”
“Of course you are, of course.”
“Listen. You’re the kindest, gentlest, soul I know. I mean, deep inside of you is a wonderful being. I was lying here, waiting for the Lord to take me, and He gave me a message. You may not believe it, you can think it’s mad, but I really believe this came from Him.” Maria paused, breathing heavily. The blood had slowed. “First He said that you’d live. I didn’t believe it. I told Him I saw you lying in blood, but He said you’d live. With all that you offer, an eternal life for you may preserve goodness so that you can work your magic forever. He told me that. Go to Thomas and live so that you can continue our work. I trust you, human or vampire, more than anything. This is what the Lord wants me to tell you.”
Xavier cried violently. He did not want to hear this. Not another dead beloved, not now.
“I can’t ki—” he started to say it. The one thing that held him back, when he realized that he had killed. Just now, a moment ago he had murdered the one monster left inside.
“That’s just it,” Maria continued. “You told me you can’t kill. But you also claimed that Thomas told you about an ethic that allowed killing. Be merciful. Don’t make me suffer any longer or see this anymore. It hurts. And then, knowing that killing me is the right thing, go forward and know that you can murder if it makes this world safer for the innocent. Help me now by ending this and in doing so find the strength to go to Thomas. I was told this in my vision.”
Maria gasped out the last words. Her chest heaved and blood dripped from her lips. But she was alive and might survive for some time, perhaps until others arrived, and then the shame that she so feared would begin.
Do it for her. Swiftly, he got out from underneath her, hurried to his father’s den, took down a pistol, and loaded it. He ran back and sat beside her, caressing her head. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, saying “I love you.” Then he stood, stepped back, and pulled the trigger.
Catherine: War and Peace
18 October 1793
THE FRONT DOORS to the Saint-Laurent home stood wide open with no visible guards, and Catherine heard a loud gunshot so she ran down the street startled, climbed the stairs, and hurried inside.
Maria lay on the marble floor, naked, bloodied, and with hardly a face because a bullet had ripped through her head. Catherine had never seen anything so ghastly, and Xavier wavered above Maria with a pistol. Catherine fought her panic and controlled her emotions, telling herself again and again that Xavier could explain this scene.
“What are you doing?” she asked, fighting to control her emotions.
He hesitated, swayed, and dropped the pistol before standing immobile. Had he gone mad? The nearby dead guards told her otherwise. Something awful had occurred and only Xavier was left. She went to him, slowly pulled him away, and asked what happened.
“They came in.”
Hearing people walk by outside, Catherine hurried to the doors and bolted them shut, then she ran through the house, pulled every curtain, and locked every door from inside. Xavier had disappeared by the time she returned to the foyer but she easily found him in the living room, closing the drapes. He cried a little but underneath lay a determination Catherine had never seen. Rather than mourn or lose his senses, he helped her conceal the attack.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We don’t have time. You’re still in danger. I’ve no idea who ordered this or why. Perhaps it was random or sent as a warning, but if anyone finds this we’ll be incriminated. Come on.” Xavier tugged her along. “There are bodies everywhere,” Xavier said, still in shock.
They hurried to the servants’ quarters and gathered cleaning supplies, an unspoken communication telling them to clean the house and bury the evidence.
Catherine took control as her brother froze. Though it nauseated and horrified her, too, she more easily disengaged and went into action. They first explored the second floor but found nothing but destroyed furniture. Then they went to the first floor and dragged the bodies to the wine cellar. They returned upstairs and cleaned everything. They scrubbed the walls, the floor, discarded broken furniture and did their best to make it look as if nothing had happened. Halfway through, she ordered Xavier to take a bath and get rid of his clothes, though his black and blue face would still give away an attack. She was especially appalled to find a glass shard sticking out of his head and marveled that he had survived at all.
When they finished this floor, they turned to the gruesome basement. Thankfully, the family crypt lay deep in the ground, deeper even than the wine cellar and nuns’ quarters. One by one they moved the bodies, cleaned the stone, and repaired the damage. Again they worked until finished, amazing Catherine at how they had concealed the crime completely. It had taken hours, and the sun was setting as they finished.
Sheer will had propelled them as they worked without pause. Catherine had not noticed her exhaustion until now, nor had she registered the danger and pain around her. Finally finished and seemingly safe, she grabbed Xavier’s hand, forced him to lock the tomb, and headed upstairs. She needed three things: wine, to hear Xavier’s story, and Thomas.
Strangely, tears eluded her. Perhaps her mind shut out the pain to protect her by using calculated reason. Why did anyone think that the brutality would skip their lives when all of France crumbled? Or had Michel’s death and the near loss of Xavier numbed her beyond repair?
She poured two glasses of wine, reopened a curtain to watch the sun set, and sat down. Xavier shook but otherwise controlled himself. Without prompting, Xavier launched into his tale and told her everything that had happened. He explained hideous details, his response, and every emotion. Though clouded with sorrow, his voice was composed.
“How are you? You look fine, but is that possible?” she asked.
“Surprisingly,” he answered.
“What does that mean?”
“That you expect an emotional collapse, perhaps running away or something even more drastic. But none of that is crossing my mind.”
Catherine considered Xavier, looked deep into his eyes for shock, but thought him more numb, like her, than anything.
“Really, I can’t explain it to you,” Xavier said flatly. He got up and slumped next to her, sipping his wine and holding her hand. “I know I should be outraged and my senses shut down. But this was predictable. The more that this revolution persists the more I lose faith in humanity. Don’t worry, it’s not some morbid dissent, just an awakening to evil. I spent too much time in my life searching for purity.”
“How can you have no feelings for Maria?”
Xavier’s eyes filled with tears. “I do. Her humiliation, fear, and pleading for death will haunt me forever. Do you think
I can ever forget that only I was there to pull the trigger, that in all of this I killed two people? I had to act the part of God and became executioner to an enemy and a friend. I’ll never forget that.” He looked out the window and paused. “But I have to continue with life. That’s what she wanted and that’s what I’ll do. And you?”
It almost sounded too simple, but its very simplicity convinced her of its truth. Catherine had braced since childhood for the moment when Xavier would confront a harsh reality that collapsed his world. Ironically, she wondered if his discovery about Thomas had eased the transition.
“I’m not sure what else to say. I can’t describe it.” Catherine ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “I’m numb. We’ve watched the guillotine execute too many, mostly innocent, to the point that we expected the worst. So this was predictable, in a strange way. Does that sound mad, do you think?”
“Perhaps to an outsider, but it’s what I tried to tell you.”
“You know,” Catherine continued, “that we can’t tell anyone.”
“Naturally.”
“Of course we’ll tell Thomas, but otherwise it’s our secret. Yet another irony—that this heinous crime turns us into the criminals, though representatives of this evil government actually did the killing.”
“They’d frame us,” Xavier added. “And deny it and accuse us of the murders, or at least me.”
“They destroyed the security of our estate and made it into a mere home again. We no longer threaten them and only the two of us really know about it. I doubt that the fiends who did it even know how many they killed or why they were here. Besides, one of them died and that will only make them quieter. I suspect that they’ll hardly miss him, anyway, and would be more embarrassed by the fact that a nun killed him.”