by Skye Knizley
After twenty minutes, she reached the iron grating that kept birds and other wildlife out of the chimney. It gave way to her insistent hammering and she pulled herself onto the roof where she lay just long enough to remove her mask and catch her breath.
The night was still dark, shot through with crackling lightning and the dull rumble of thunder, but it now had an underlying current of menace and anticipation that hadn’t been there before. Chastity rolled over, rose to her knees, and looked across the roof to the glass dome over the lobby and ballroom. With each flash of lightning green electricity crackled along copper pylons that had been installed in the shingles that covered the roof and arced over the glass to disappear somewhere inside the hotel. Whatever Dippel was planning, it was happening soon.
Chastity stood and started moving across the roof. The shingles were slick with a thin layer of ice and the going was even slower than the climb had been, but eventually she reached the edge of the glass dome and peered inside. The bellman and a dozen men were standing outside the door, armed with a mixture of pistols and swords. There was no sign of Price and Chastity hoped he was hiding, but she knew he would be up to something. He wasn’t the sort of man who would sit things out.
As she watched, several men approached carrying a struggling figure between them. At first Chastity thought that it was Price and her heart skipped a beat, but it was someone she didn’t recognize. The bellman, who seemed to be the leader, opened the door and let the two men enter with their prize.
Moving with caution lest she plummet to the yard below, Chastity climbed across the roof to the far side to a balcony that looked into the ballroom. A glance confirmed it was empty and she lowered herself down.
Inside the ballroom was a mad scientist’s nightmare. Jacob’s Ladders, electric coils, power converters and devices that Chastity didn’t recognize were placed throughout. In the center of the room, connected to all of the devices, were a pair of bell-shaped glass chambers, each large enough for a man. As Chastity watched, the prisoner was pushed inside the one on her left and the door locked. As the victim pounded futilely on the door, Dippel worked controls and threw a lever. The green electricity Chastity had seen before coursed through the equipment and there was a noise like fingernails on a blackboard that set Chastity’s teeth on edge. When the sound died down there was something black, like a cloud or mist, hovering in the second chamber. It coiled and writhed, trying to get free of the chamber. Dippel threw another switch and the prisoner screamed in horror as more electricity coursed through his body. A white mist coalesced from his mouth and vanished, only to be replaced by the darkness from the other chamber. After a moment, the man stopped twitching and lay still, blood running from beneath his eyelids. When he stood and looked out, his eyes were as dark as pitch.
“My God,” Chastity murmured. “What is he doing?”
She knelt by the French doors that opened into the ballroom, pondering her next move. There were more than a dozen of the black-eyed things in the room, plus Dippel and a hunchbacked gnome of a man who followed Dippel around like a lost puppy. Even with the element of surprise, she doubted she could eliminate so many. Not without a bomb or cannon.
Just then the ballroom door fell open with the bellman on top of it. Christian Price stepped over him, his Colt spitting silver faster than anything Chastity had ever seen. Six of the things fell, ash and flame spouting from their wounds and Price rolled behind a table laden with equipment.
“Or an American,” Chastity laughed.
She waved a hand at the door’s lock and kicked it open, her own twin revolvers spitting silver a split-second before the boom of Price’s Colt joined in again. Bullets smashed through bone and sinew, spilling fiery blood and ash to the floor. Equipment shattered as the creatures fell and the room was bathed in darkness so complete that Chastity was forced to take cover behind a fallen table until she could see again.
“I thought I’d missed the action,” Price called.
“Right on time, Inspector,” Chastity yelled back.
“I will kill you both!” a new voice said.
“Dippel? Johan Dippel? This is Inspector Price. Surrender and you will be given a fair trial. Assuming we can find a judge willing to hear all of this.”
“Nothing is fair, Inspector. Not God, not heaven, not life, nothing! I will kill you and continue my work until it is!. Igor, get Marianna. You! Don’t come back without their heads!”
Chastity didn’t like the sound of that. She thought most of Dippel’s minions were down and done. She listened for some hint of what was coming and could hear strange sounds, like animals being skinned alive then the click of claws on marble, getting closer.. She lit one of Nikola’s torches and raised it over her head. In the dim light she could see she was surrounded by creatures ranging from slavering ghouls like Moody to shambling Valpurleiche and the skeletal skin thief with its bladed hands like the scythe of Death. They were held at bay only by the sudden glow of her torch and that wouldn’t last long.
“Inspector,” she said. “Do you see what I see?”
She heard Price clear his throat. “Indeed I do, Miss MacLeod. Suggestions?”
Chastity finished reloading as the light began to fade in the all-consuming darkness Dippel had created. “Yes. Keep shooting and don’t die on me. I’m coming to you.”
“Are you sure?”
The cylinders of her pistols clicked home and the light went out. “I am.”
It was the bloodiest battle of her life. She fired bullet after bullet into the darkness, aiming at whatever disgusting flesh or bone she could see in the muzzle-flash of her weapons. Black blood, shattered limbs and bone spun away into the darkness with every shot.
When the pistols were empty she cast them aside and drew her sword, letting the glittering sigils light her way. Seconds ticked by like hours as she moved toward the thunder of Price’s pistols and soon they were standing back to back, fighting a slow-motion battle in the flashes of light their weapons produced. Chastity barely noticed the blood running down her arms and the scratches on her face. This was a battle for survival and the safety of London, scratches didn’t matter.
An eternity of seconds later they stood amidst dozens of small fires, a pile of silver shell casings and a rain of ash, all that remained of the hellish creatures that had surrounded them. Blood poured from dozens of wounds in their arms and legs, but they were alive.
Price sagged against the wall and once again started to reload his Colt.
“I lost my hat,” he said as rounds clicked into place.
Chastity squatted next to him. “I’ll buy you another. I know a great store on Market Street that sells American style hats.”
Price finished reloading and holstered his weapon. “I’ve got about a dozen of Herbert’s bullets and one more of those exploding ball things. If there are many more of these critters, we’re up the creek.”
“What exploding ball thing?”
Price reached in his pocket and pulled out a ball that looked like it was made of faceted silver. A wick protruded from the side.
“I used the other one on the front door. I didn’t know what it would do, but figured what the hell?”
Chastity laughed and rolled the grenade around in her hand. “It’s one of his bombs. Silver around a nitroglycerine core. Guaranteed to clear a path, is what Nikola once said. I guess he was right. Come, Dippel is getting away.”
She extended a hand and helped Price to his feet. “You have an idea where he’s gone, haven’t you?”
Chastity stepped over the wreckage of the ballroom doors and checked the hallway. There was nothing moving, just piles of smoldering ash left after Price had detonated his grenade only a few minutes before. She leaned over the railing and looked down, not surprised to see that the lobby was empty and the doors stood open, swaying in the wind.
The police were just arriving on scene when they stepped outside with Chastity in the lead.
“What’s all this then?” the
lead officer asked.
Chastity opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Price. “It’s alright, Sergeant Sheills. It’s my responsibility.”
“I’m sorry, Inspector, I didn’t see you there. What happened?”
“Equipment failure on the sixth floor. Take three of your men and make sure the hotel is empty. The other two can stand guard. No one but you in or out until I say so, understood?”
Sheills’ jaw dropped. “But sor, it’s the Langham, people come day and night…”
Price shook his head. “Not tonight it isn’t.”
“It’s not? Then what is it?”
“The biggest crime scene in the country. Come, Miss MacLeod, we’ve a villain to put behind bars.”
Chastity followed him to the stagecoach that had delivered Sheills and his team. The driver’s eyes widened when he saw their wounds, but he saw Price’s expression and didn’t comment.
“Where to?” Price asked.
Chastity climbed into the carriage. “Cross Bones Cemetery, quickly as you can.”
“You heard her,” Price said to the driver.
“Very good, sir.”
Chastity settled back to get some rest. The night was far from over.
THE STORM THAT had been building all evening broke as the coach climbed the hill to Cross Bones. Sleet fell in sheets, mixed with hail and snow that made the going treacherous. The horses complained as they climbed, whinnying in protest as their hooves skidded on the freezing bricks. They came to a halt at the top of the hill and the driver banged on the side.
“We’re as close as we can get, sor!”
The street was empty and even the lights of the Barrel and Sword were dimmed by the raging storm. No one without pressing business was out in the weather and, for once Chastity was grateful. Whatever was coming next it wasn’t something that innocent eyes should witness.
They climbed the rest of the way to the cemetery’s southern gate which was standing wide open. Dippel was no longer bothering to keep his operations hidden. The cemetery beyond was cold and dark, lit only by bright flashes of lightning. There was no sign of anyone alive, which Chastity didn’t find reassuring.
She hurried through the gates, followed by Price hard on her heels. They picked their way around the gravestones toward the distant vault where Chastity felt sure they would find Dippel. There was a reason he’d been at that vault and she thought she knew why.
When they neared Dippel’s vault they found it lit by a single oil lantern sitting outside, casting shadows on several pale, bloodless bodies wrapped in roses the color of blood. The flowers writhed and rustled as the pair approached, unsatiated by the feast they’d been enjoying.
Price drew his Bowie knife and moved toward them, but Chastity held him back.
“Be careful. Those are blood roses, they can drain you dry in a matter of moments. Go for the stems.”
Price wrapped his jacket around his free arm and started hacking at the vines, cutting them away from the vault in great swaths. The roses retaliated by going for his exposed skin. Price ducked his head and used his jacket-covered arm as a shield, keeping them at bay while he cut. As the vines were severed, the roses dropped to the ground and withered, unable to sustain themselves without the unholy power associated with the vault and Dippel’s dark alchemie.
With the roses dead, Chastity stepped forward to make a quick examination of the victims and grant them the Last Rites. When she was done she turned to Price who led the way into the squat building. Inside was much as Chastity remembered it, with two of the deceased interred within and a scattering of tools on the floor.
“I don’t think he’s here, Miss MacLeod,” Price said.
“There is more to this than meets the eye, Inspector. There is a hidden catch or door somewhere. There must be.”
“Why must there be?”
Chastity began running her hands along the wall, looking for anything that might reveal a door or mechanism. “Because Dippel vanished right in front of me.”
Price shrugged. “He probably did some of that mumbo jumbo you’re always doing.”
Chastity shook her head. “Magik doesn’t work like that. Little things like opening locks or putting someone to sleep are simple. But putting a room of people to sleep? That would be quite difficult. I am loathe to use the word impossible, but I suspect that is what vanishing is. Hand me that lamp, will you?”
Price looked at the oil lantern Chastity had indicated. When he picked it up to light it there was a click from the bracket and one of the sarcophagi slid sideways to reveal a staircase beneath.
“Did you know that was going to happen?” Price asked.
Chastity shook her head. “Not exactly. I just wanted more light.”
Price lit the lantern and descended the steps. Chastity followed close behind, blade at the ready.
The stairs passed through a series of rusting portcullises and emptied out in a wide tunnel, part of the ancient London catacombs that crisscrossed the city. Many of the cold catacombs had been walled off to construct the city’s sewer system, which made them perfect hiding places.
Chastity moved past Price and into the chamber. There were drag marks on the floor indicating something heavy had been pulled into the deep catacombs from direction of the river. To the best of her knowledge there was no access to the catacombs by water, but at this point she wasn’t willing to rule anything out. After all, the first victim’s head had been found in the Thames.
Together they followed the marks deeper into the darkness and after a time, Chastity realized she could see better. There was light coming from somewhere ahead. She looked at Price and he nodded; he’d seen it, as well. He drew his revolver and took the lead. Chastity followed close behind, turning every few seconds to make sure no one was sneaking up from the entrance.
They rounded the corner a moment later and could see light filtering up from a chamber ahead that was somewhere below. Chastity crept forward and peered over the edge into another laboratory very similar to the one at Langham, though the equipment looked much older and cruder. It all appeared to have been transported from somewhere and Chastity surmised this was what had been dragged in from the water. It was his old equipment from Germany.
In the middle of the roughly square chamber was a huge operating table. Something humanoid, but much larger was strapped to the table beneath a sheet that obscured any features. To either side of the central table were two smaller ones, each with their own occupants. From here it looked as if one was very small while the other was about her own size, maybe a few inches shorter.
Dippel and his companion moved from gadget to gadget, throwing switches, turning knobs and checking the two smaller specimens for signs of life. As Chastity watched, the hunchback pulled the cloth off of the middle specimen to reveal a woman, of sorts, sewn from Dippel’s other victims. Though each component was, by itself, perfect in every way, the whole was a grotesque parody of humanity. Only the head, which was that of a handsome young woman, was unmarred by the madman’s surgery.
Chastity looked away in horror and met Price’s eyes. His face was hard with anger, and something more. Something Chastity recognized: Duty. Price was prepared to do whatever it took to stop Dippel.
As one they stood and hurried down the stairs. Near the bottom, Price raised his weapon. “Johan Dippel, I charge you with the crime of murder, grave robbing and theft. Raise your hands and do not move!”
“Keep working, Professor,” a new voice said.
There was a sound like steam escaping a valve and a strange creature lumbered into view, its mechanical feet making loud noises on the old stone floor. It was a frame, of sorts, roughly man shaped. Human organs including two hearts and four lungs hung inside the frame, along with jars of blood and something green Chastity didn’t want to think about. Atop the frame was the scientist, Davis’ head. And he appeared very much alive.
“Davis?” Price asked in surprise.
“In the flesh,” Davis sai
d. “So to speak. I won’t let you interfere with Professor Dippel’s work.”
Davis moved closer and the pincers on the ends of his mechanical arms pinged open and shut like the claws of an angry lobster.
“Dr. Davis, what happened to you?” Chastity asked.
“It’s quite simple,” Dippel said. “Moody harvested his head because I had need of his new generator to power my work. When I woke his living brain—”
“He found I was quite happy to help in exchange for immortality,” Davis finished. “And here we are. Two hearts, four lungs, Blood roses to keep me well stocked and the strength of ten men. I shall live to see the next century. And the next, and more. And you will die, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Price aimed his Colt. “You’re insane. Both of you.”
“Insanity is a relative term,” Dippel said. “Some would say letting a loved one die was insanity.”
“Death is a part of life,” Chastity snapped. “It is not your place to play God.”
“God is a fairy tale. This is reality. Deal with them, doctor, while I awaken my beloved.”
“Of course.”
Davis took another step and Price pulled the Colt’s trigger. The bullet bounced harmlessly off the frame and Davis giggled like a child.
“You cannot kill me. No one can!”
Price fired again, and again. His bullets ricocheted away, shattering several pieces of equipment and sending sparks flying around the room.
“Be careful, Doctor,” the hunchback intoned. “We need this equipment.”
“Of course, Mr. Cutbush, my apologies,” Davis said.
He swung one massive arm and knocked Price sprawling. He then tried for Chastity, who rolled out of the way and came up behind him.