She began having terrible dreams. Re-living the agonising moments when she was revived and the attack of the professor in a time-altering slowness. The professor told her that he could ease her sleep with laudanum, but the dreams broke through and began to change. She began witnessing things that she could not have seen and could not believe that she would create. She saw herself get taken by the monster. She watched herself fight the enveloping tentacles. She heard herself scream as the tendrils bored deep into her flesh and witnessed her body change and contort. Her own experience faded into visions of other girls being attacked in different parts of the waterfront by creatures that looked different from the one that attacked her. She saw other working girls taken from the streets and then saw them as they returned to the ten mile stretch and plied their trade on unsuspecting gentlemen, passing on the hideousness of their own existence. Violet would wake in the night screaming, tearing at her own body. Ripping at her deformed flesh.
The professor constructed a reinforced leather corset that covered her chest down to her thighs. Hardly a designer of fashionable garments for women, the professor had incorporated fully functional joints to provide complete manoeuvrability. Violet rarely took it off.
Next the professor introduced Violet to all he knew about the beast. Violet learnt quickly. She did not always agree with the professor’s admiration of the creature, nevertheless they at least agreed on the need to hunt and destroy it. It was while inspecting the remains the professor had hacked from previous kills in his macabre trophy room that she began to understand her ability to perceive the beasts. When she was around the most recent remains she was assaulted by a persistent and horrible smell that crept up her back and slithered into her skull. The professor suggested that it may have been because of the link she had with the beast that she could access the knowledge they transmitted from one generation to the next. Being continually assailed by a repulsive stench only amplified Violet’s hatred for the monsters that had stripped her of her humanity.
Finally, there was only the weapon. She began by refashioning the professor’s silver blades. The classic sword design lacked a balance in her hands. She wanted something fluid, something that would move as extensions of her arms. Removing the sword handles and fashioning leather gauntlets, she made the blades act as she wished. Then she utilised the professor’s armoury and expertise to devise the silver fans. The blades became her constant companion. She kept them close and practiced with them often. It was with her blades that Violet found a measure of solace.
Unfortunately, the blades holstered securely in her dress were providing no comfort as she returned to the professor after destroying the last beast.
“Any problems?” the professor asked on her arrival.
“No. No problems. It went down just like the rest, but this one attacked me with a vapour.”
“Interesting” the professor replied moving himself awkwardly towards a bookcase. “Gas or liquid, usually discharged underwater, is a common defence mechanism for many creatures.”
“Yes, but not these monsters.”
“No. Not until now, at least” the professor corrected, “They do seem to have a rapid evolutionary system. Did it hit you?”
The professor feigned interest as Violet recalled the monster’s attack and the vapour’s effect.
“Clearly, a defence mechanism still evolving. No doubt we shall see more of this. We should be ready for similar, more potent attacks. But now my dear, you need some rest.” Violet seemed hesitant, lingering awkwardly at the professor’s desk.
“Surely you can rest tonight” the professor reassured. “The creatures do not spawn so quickly. You should have no dreams tonight.” Violet assented and retired to her room.
A disquieting sensation had gradually been increasing as Violet wearily settled down to sleep. As the professor had said, she could usually count on at least a week of undisturbed rest until the next monster surfaced, but the professor had troubled Violet. There was nothing she could identify with any degree of certainty, he just seemed anxious. Violet dismissed the idea.
Expecting to find no dreams in her sleep, Violet was surprised to find a girl with the fresh face of a blonde nymph. Violet approached with steps of trepidation but could not help feeling a longed-for acceptance. The girl smiled a familiar smile and Violet continued to move towards her. There was an unnatural appeal about the girl that Violet could feel herself fighting. As much as she fought, she was attracted. And so her dream continued in an eerie balance of attraction and rejection until she woke the next morning.
Violet arrived to breakfast to find an abrupt professor struggling irritably with the newspaper. Violet knew it meant a new monster.
“Another one so soon?” Violet asked finding herself unusually hungry.
“Either quickly enough to make it into the early edition or they were already spawning when you dispatched the beast from last night.” The professor paused for a moment, the bad news lingering unspoken in the air. “It is possible that they are no longer working individually.”
“No rest for the wicked, I suppose.” Violet was in pursuit once again.
It had been barely twelve hours and Violet was moving back through Spitalfields and the ten mile stretch of prostitution. She knew there were other areas, but she also knew the beast. It thrived on that stretch of the Thames. The professor had hypothesised that it was initially a water based parasite whose biochemistry had been affected by the noxious products that poured daily from the factories along that stretch of the Thames. He had no actual evidence to support his claim and had yet to induce Violet to start collecting samples. Either she was hunting or preparing to hunt, there was little more for Violet.
The detours through the footpaths and passages would take long hours of arduous walking followed by a sudden conflict and then severe exhaustion. At times, Violet found it difficult to distinguish between her new vocation and her old one, right down to the thrashing and grunting when she found what she was looking for and then the readjusting of her petticoats and the slimy mess once the exertion was all over.
The day was unfruitful and the night was proving to be wearisome. Her driver signalled the need for a change of horse so they travelled to the more respectable side of Covent Garden. It was there that Violet received her first tangible impression of the beast. It was not like the other times. Beginning with her appendages, there was a tension of her muscles that shot up into her brain sharpening her senses.
Not waiting for the carriage, Violet moved mechanically through the streets. She was not tracking the beast as much as she felt drawn towards it. Violet moved further from the slumline stretch of prostitution and working London to the wealth and power of the city. Finally, Violet arrived at the Castalia. A hotel fashioned in the grand tradition of Victoria herself. It was broad, elegant, dominating and unmistakably regal.
“Good evening ma’am.” Violet was greeted at the door by an usher who escorted her into the hotel. “I believe you are after the Delphic room.” Directed up to the Delphic room, Violet was not surprised to find the fresh faced nymph she had met in her dream.
“Oh you came, you came, you came,” she said with a warm smile and open arms. “You were a little slow. I thought you might be here sooner. Oh do come sit down.” Violet was offered a chair and sat down dutifully. A waiter interrupted the silence of the room. He moved directly towards the girl who played with her corkscrew curls and fidgeted unrelentingly. He bowed with exaggerated politeness and left, completely oblivious to Violet.
“We have so much to catch up on” the girl spoke with visible excitement. “Now, nobody has asked me to do it, but I can invite you to come back and all those naughty things you have done will be forgotten. Gone. And everything can be as it should.”
“Hold monster” Violet commanded. Despite shifting her hands towards the blades in her corset she could not bring herself to pull a weapon. “Save your pitiful attempts at self-preservation. There is nothing that can induce me to hal
t from dispatching you, let alone change sides.”
“But why would I want you to change sides? You are one of us after all. In fact” the girl’s face expressed pity. “I can make you whole again. When you were cut from your host, the whore’s body was dead, but you weren’t complete. Your mind was not cleared. You ended up such a terrible mess, you poor thing. But now here I am and I can make you all better.”
The words echoed in Violet’s mind. The creature was not merely saying them, she was feeding them into her mind. Filling her with soothing feelings that reassured her as the words resonated with what she believed. The room began to spin. Violet shook her head struggling against the words and feelings that were thriving against everything she thought she knew.
“It is funny really” she covered her mouth and giggled. “They were all calling you to protect them. They were appealing to you as a protector and you killed them. Oh my dear. You are so silly. Such a jumble. It must have been so hard. Not fighting all those others. They weren’t anything like you, so strong, so ferocious. No, it must have been so hard not knowing who you were. What a pity. But now it is all over.”
“Yes. All over” Violet repeated. “All over for you foul creature. Be sure and pass it along to your next generation. I am here to exterminate you and you can either stop me or be destroyed.” Thinking only of producing a show of force, Violet slipped her hands into the back of her bustle and into the gauntlets as she had many times before. Violet had practiced the withdrawal many times. The professor had argued that in the animal kingdom, often the show of force was sufficient to achieve victory. If a fight did start, and it was Violet’s experience that they all at least tried to fight back, the intimidation caused by the initial moves were scientifically proven to dramatically increase the probability of victory. Yet, Violet was having trouble envisioning a battle with the creature.
“What you can’t see” the creature began with very little concern for Violet’s exposure of her blades. “Is I am not the same as those silly little meatsack breeders. I am altogether different. I am what you would have been if it weren’t for that nasty little interruption. Now, I am not saying that you would have been as good as me, but you’re just not finished.”
Violet was trying to block out her words and imagined herself practicing with her blades. She swung an impossibly quick diagonal strike that she always ended with a slash across the beast’s stomach from left to right. It was often a good judge of her opponent’s speed and fighting ability. Most did not expect the secondary slash attack and if they did, there was a good chance they would not be able to avoid it.
Even as she slashed forward, Violet could not resist an uncomfortable feeling she should not be attacking such an innocent young girl. It was unreasonable. Violet knew this to be another monster. Yet, she sensed hesitation in her own movements.
To Violet’s surprise, there was no dodge and no slash. On the downward thrust, the nymph had reached up and caught the blade between the palms of her hands. Ever prepared, Violet had a secondary attack that she almost never had to use in this occasion. Violet tried to swing her second blade up from its low position but found herself unable to make the move. Looking down to her blade, Violet saw a black laced boot with a moderate heel holding her blade down. The girl was smiling.
“What were you thinking? Haven’t you used that move once or twice before? Those others might be a little slow, but they know what’s coming. Haven’t you seen the fear in their eyes when you find them?” The girl paused for a moment. “Or do you like them to know that they have been hunted so you can see the terror as they realise that they are powerless, witness their last desperate screams as you fill the last moments of their lives with agony.” She leaned in closer to Violet and whispered, “I know I would.”
“I’m not anything like you” Violet shouted.
“And yet, you know us for what we are. That doesn’t strike you as a little strange?”
“All the better to kill you.”
“But really. How did you get this gift? You think the one who tried to take you gave it to you? You think when we pick a form we give anything but pain and destruction? No. You hear our call. You feel us speak in voices that span time, but your feeble human mind cannot handle the full force of the voices. So I imagine you hear them as echoes, some distant voices that haunt the deep recesses of your mind. Maybe you get glimpses of what the others have done, images that appear out of nowhere and haunt your days, or maybe at night your sleep is haunted by dreams.” Violet’s eyes flashed at her. “Ah dreams. They come to you at you at night. Do you suffer the miserable look of those who are consumed by us, become us and spread our seed using their bodies. How awful is must be to just have to watch as all those terrible things happen. As you relive your own nightmare each and every time a new one of us rises to replace the last. How frustrating it must be to know you are the only one who could have protected those poor innocents and yet you could do nothing to save them. How much anger you must have towards those you have vanquished.”
As if a wound-up clockwork toy that was released, Violet started from a low position and pushed forward against the girl. Having built up mental momentum, Violet was surprised to find the girl more difficult to move than she imagined. A rising kick to her stomach caused the girl to let go of the blade, step back and look down at her dress.
“Oh, now my dear, be careful. This is such lovely material. One of my late admirers gave it to me. He so dearly loved me. He wanted everything and was no longer useful, except to give me this dress. But I didn’t hold back. I gave it to him. I gave him everything he wanted, but when I’m done with you, I chew you up and spit you out.”
Endeavouring to block out the girl’s voice that seeped into her mind and constricted her very thoughts, Violet had converted her blades into fans and began her advance.
The rapid movements of the razor sharp fans were either blocking out the voice or stopping her from speaking. There was little opportunity to see the damage, but Violet could feel the fans making contact. After a reasonable offensive, Violet paused and looked up to see the girl’s dress in shreds exposing her smooth gleaming skin unscathed by the attack. Violet looked in disbelief at the angelic face of the monster and became aware of tough skin covered with spikes that began at its lower abdomen and ran down to the top of her thighs. It was apparent that this creature did not keep its tentacles inside.
In an angry attack, Violet thrust a blade forward that the smiling monster allowed to make contact. Inflicting no discernible damage, the blade merely scrapped along the beast’s skin.
“How rude” the creature said as claw-like tentacles burst from the rags of the petticoats. “You can imagine what happens when a man gets the intimacy he wants. If I need him again, I merely take his, well you know. You’ve seen enough of them. But if he has no more use…” The tentacles took hold of Violet’s blade and began twisting the metal.
The tentacles stretched out and tightened around Violet’s body. She could feel the joints of her corset break as the creature lifted her above its head.
“Now it is your turn Violet Reincastle. Go to hell.” The creature launched her through the widow with sufficient force to make her hit the opposite building before tumbling four flights to land among the hotel’s refuse. The creature smiled at herself and wondered whether her azure dress had too many bows for a meeting with a major general.
For Violet, the physical pain was not as noticeable as the absence of the girl. Her appearance and the sound of her voice had consumed Violet, causing a feeling of constriction around her mind, making her vision hazy and slowing her down. Violet felt glad to be away from her and then she accepted the welcome of oblivion.
It was only good fortune that saved Violet from expiring amid broken bottles, rotten food and sewage. A young prostitute visiting her mother in the kitchen of the hotel had recognized Violet and sent a boy to fetch Swanson, Violet’s driver. Among the traffic of the busy hotel, Swanson was able to inconspicuously coll
ect Violet and take her back to the professor’s house.
Violet’s corset had suffered the brunt of the attack. The professor had ample time to repair it as Violet endured the effects of a prolonged fever. She shifted endlessly in her bed, hurling herself about in a slumbering turmoil while the professor sat by helplessly. When she finally awoke, he noticed an anxious uncertainty in her responses to his inquiries into how she was feeling. Dwelling in the awkward silences of the sick room, the professor’s trepidation was cultivated by his concern and punished by his continuous introspection.
“Violet” the professor started hesitantly. “I curse the existence of these creatures everyday for what they have done to you and me and those poor wretched girls.” He paused. Not looking at Violet who also kept her eyes averted. “I do not regret my actions because without them I would never have know you, but I do regret that the state you now suffer was imposed upon you.” The professor was not sure if there was anything more to say or if he should expect a response from Violet. Finally, she pulled herself upright, the new joints of her corset stiff and inflexible.
“I have a creature to destroy and I shall need your help professor.”
It was barely a week later that an alluring young girl who was returning to the Castalia after a successful night maiming noticed a familiar shape in the shadows by the hotel. She directed her escort inside to wait for her.
Following the shape through the shadows was simple. It was late on a dark and foggy evening, but the shape moved awkwardly and, for the girl, radiated an aura with which she was recently acquainted. The girl smiled with confident anticipation.
Several deserted roads and winding alleys brought the girl into a cobbled courtyard enclosed by brick walls on every side.
“Violet, I would say it is lovely to see you again” the girl said. “But I cannot see anything. Are these the depths you have fallen to? Then let me carry out my duty and put an end to your suffering.” Violet, her ears plugged with wax, was not listening. There would be no pleasantries this time. Scooping a container from the floor, Violet hurled its contents at the entrance to the courtyard before the girl had time to properly enter the courtyard. Without being able to see her success, Violet had landed a sticky substance directly on the girl’s face. The girl coughed and choked as the viscous liquid formed a bond with her skin and clogged her mouth and throat.
Both Barrels of Monster Hunter Legends (Legends of the Monster Hunter Book 1) Page 46