When we reached the bottom, we waited for Pitt, who brought up the rear, and I fancied I could sense the anticipation. Could I hear, or feel, the breathing of the hunters who waited in the wet corners of this dark, cave-like basement? There was another sound. It reminded me of a clear mountain spring and my heart betrayed me in that moment as I yearned for the fresh air and open sky. I swayed and was about to turn to run up the stairs in a blind rush for freedom, but Valentina's firm grip held me as my mind caught up with my instinct.
“Hold fast, John,” she whispered, her breath caressing me.
I steadied myself, checked that Pitt was with us and stepped into the chamber.
A dull red light began to grow as we walked. At first, I wasn't sure that it was really there, but soon enough it became clear. A malevolent scarlet glow as if a demonic fire was burning. And round it, the silhouettes of monstrous shapes shifted and danced, silently watching us. Valentina's grip on my arm tensed and I realised that she, too, was terrified. We had come to the point and awaited the stroke of doom.
“No.”
It was nothing more than a whisper and yet I knew I was not mistaken.
“John.”
“Grimes?” I mumbled in response. Again, Valentina's hand flexed before dropping away. I heard the rustle of crinoline and caught the gleam of a blade.
Suddenly, the red flame blossomed, and the repugnant tableau was finally revealed.
Around the light stood a horde of shapes, their eyes glinting in its scarlet glow and, like a gazelle gazing at a pack of lions, I sensed their hunger and wondered what was holding them back.
Behind the spectral flame, a scaffold had been constructed. Like the one used to torture Williams, it was in the form of a cross and Grimes was tied to it spread-eagled. His clothes had been torn away and great rents slashed into his limbs. Instinctively, I stepped towards him and drew my weapon.
“Now, now, my dear Makepeace,” said the voice of Peregrine as he appeared from behind the scaffold. “If you value the life and soul of your friend, whom you have made such efforts to rescue, then you will please put down your weapon.”
He now came fully into view as he walked through the ranks of his vampire army. “And I see you have company. The beautiful traitress Valentina, her idiot husband and their brat.”
I felt Otto push against me as if trying to get to Peregrine, but Valentina forced him back. “Do not be a fool,” she hissed.
“Oh, it is far too late for that,” Otto responded.
Peregrine feigned to look behind us. “Who is this? You bring fresh meat for us to feast on? How very cordial of you and how very correct. You see, my children,” he said, turning from side to side, “this is how we do things. When invited to a party, we must bring our own food. That is what I call class.”
“My name is Detective Inspector Pitt of Scotland Yard,” my friend said defiantly. “And I charge you with murder, kidnapping and torture.”
Peregrine's laughter bounced off the ceiling and walls so that I could barely tolerate it. “Oh inspector, you are quite priceless. I almost regret having to kill you, but fresh meat is still somewhat taxing to obtain.”
Pitt brought his weapon—a long pistol—to bear, but Stephan grabbed his arm and shook his head.
“But where are my manners? You are here to see Mr Grimes, are you not? Well, here he is. Not quite as dead as you imagined, I believe, though that will be amended soon enough.”
At a signal, the vampires melted into the darkness beyond the fire and Peregrine gestured at us to approach before he also withdrew.
Grimes opened his eyes as we gathered around him. “Fools,” he said.
“What can we do?” I whispered.
“Kill me.”
Peregrine's voice emerged from the darkness. “If any of you raises a hand, you will be consumed.”
“You should not have come.”
“And what, exactly, should we have done? You had been taken—I thought you were dead. And then we discover that you might be alive. What would you have had me do?”
“Flee.”
Valentina sighed. “Tell us what we need to know, Ichabod. I don't doubt that this is the intention of the entire pantomime—for us to learn of our fate from one of our own.”
“Rivers of blood,” Grimes said. Then his eyes cleared a little and he focused on me. “Kill as many as you can, John.”
I felt myself being pushed to one side as Peregrine emerged again. “Now, now, Grimes, that is not the way to behave. Did we not promise to kill your friends mercifully if you co-operated?”
“I am not quite that big a fool,” Grimes hissed.
“Then I will show them what they must see, but I tell you, Grimes, the master will not be pleased.”
Grimes spat at Peregrine, the gob landing on his forehead and running into his eyes before he could wipe it away. The vampire's face twisted in wrath and he made to leap.
“Stop!”
A deep voice echoed around the chamber and I felt the atmosphere change. The hunger and thirst for killing had been replaced by abject fear. Peregrine fell back against Grimes' hanging body, looking into the fire, his hands held up in front of his face as if trying to ward off some stinging insect.
“Master! I am sorry. I would not. I promise, I was only scaring them. I would not have touched your prize. Please forgive me, master.”
Something was emerging from the scarlet flame. As I write this, three decades have passed since that night and yet I need no notes to refresh my memory. So shocking and hideous was the thing that appeared that I can picture it in my mind's eye as if I were witnessing it at this moment.
It was of man shape, but taller and broader. It had a bulbous, bearded head and a wide mouth framed by serrated canines fully three inches in length. Wiry grey hair covered its scalp and its body was covered in what looked like a black leather cloak with holes for massive arms that ended in cruel, claw-like hands. It was hard to tell in the crimson light, but it seemed to me that the skin of the monster was also blood-red. If Satan had sent a demon into the world, it could hardly have been more evil-looking than this thing that stood before us now. It lacked only horns to complete the devil-like impression.
Its arm swept down, and Peregrine was flung shrieking across the darkness like a child's doll.
The creature stood tall, gazing down on us like insects it had a mind to crush. And then it turned to Grimes.
“Did I not say that none is to harm him, but me?” His voice was calm and quiet and yet had the power to render silent the countless vampires cowering in the darkness.
“But fear not, your time has almost come,” he continued, his claws holding up Grimes' chin. “Brother.”
Demon
Cruel hands grabbed at my arms and dragged me away from the horrific scene. What did that demon mean by brother? They clearly were not of the same kind since Grimes was human and his tormentor was of entirely another kind. But there was obviously some connection between them that I couldn't fathom.
I struggled to keep myself from falling on the dark, slippery floor as we were marched to a door in the far wall. Turning, I realised that my jailer was Peregrine and his humiliation at the hands of the monster who followed us had left him none too gentle.
“Open it,” boomed the voice of the monster behind us. I could see Grimes hanging lose in its arms and found myself hoping that he'd died finally and was no longer in pain. I longed to join him.
The metal door was pushed open and I was overwhelmed by the stench that erupted from within. I would have held my nostrils together if I could have done, but Peregrine seemed to delight in the pungent mix of faeces, death and fear. And above the dripping and the flow of water came a chorus of plaintive moans.
“Let us have some light,” said the monster and instantly kindled a torch set into the wall.
We were in a brick-lined sewer and, as he swept the brand from side to side, I could see many shapes suspended from the ceiling, some of them moving like
bound up flies in the clutches of a spider.
Next to me, Pitt lurched to one side and vomited.
“No!” the demon called. “Do not contaminate the river.”
I looked down to where Pitt knelt, his head over the sewer channel. For a moment I thought it was a trick of the light, but then out of the corner of an eye I saw drips falling from the nearest shape above me. A random gust of the noxious air must have caught it because I felt a drop hit my cheek and I went to wipe it away. Blood streaked across my palm and I gasped in horror as I looked up again and then down at the stream. Here, beneath the streets of London, we stood beside a river of blood.
“My God,” I gasped, trying to step away from the brink.
The tunnel echoed with the demon's rolling laughter. “Your god cannot help you, little man. You have meddled in a world that is beyond your comprehension and you must pay the price.”
“And what of them?” I cried, pointing upwards.
The demon contrived a shrug. “They are merely sheep. You at least have been able to play your part; however ignorant my brother might have left you. I'm sure he has been rather niggardly with the truth, has he not?”
He knew from my reaction that he was correct. Grimes had used many excuses to withhold information from me. He had excused himself by claiming that he was protecting me, but the ignorance he'd left me in was, at least in part, the reason I was here, looking down at a scarlet stream as other victims moaned above me.
There was a movement to my side. Otto had made to move forward but was being held back by his guards. At a nod from the demon, he was allowed to approach the river.
“Otto,” Valentina said softly. “Control yourself.”
He turned to her and I saw the hunger in his eyes.
“He cannot deny his nature,” the demon said. “You feel it also, do you not?”
The demon moved forward, the limp form of Grimes hanging from one hand. With the other, he lifted Valentina's proud chin so that she was looking up into the red embers of his eyes. “Do you not desire to bathe in the river of blood? To drink from it? Do not deny it; I can see it in your eyes.”
She pulled herself back. “Otto!”
He was crawling towards the edge of the stream and I did not doubt that he would soon be as feral as the others here. No wonder so many vampires had converged on this place.
“Where does it lead?” I asked.
The demon seemed surprised. “Hmm? Well, perhaps I do see why Grimes picked you as his latest plaything. In the midst of this horror and within minutes of your own death, you are still curious. Very well, then, I will grant you this in honour of your courage. This sewer leads to a similar basement beneath the match factory which, I am sure you know, lies beside a railway track.”
He gave another laugh. “Really, you humans are ingenious. And how very kind of you to invent a form of transport that will allow me to send my gifts across the island and, soon enough, to the continent.”
“As you can see, vampires, whilst useful in their own way, are very easily controlled. I have allied myself with them before, but they are really only motivated by one thing, fresh blood and, outside of war zones and the worst parts of human cities, that is hard to come by and even harder to keep fresh.”
I gasped. “The anti-coagulant!”
His wide face burst into a smile that exposed the dagger-like yellow fangs. “As I said, you are quite an ingenious species. You have presented me with the means to store and transport blood. First London and then this entire benighted country will become like a beacon to every vampire in the world and I will finally have mastery here. Humanity will take its rightful place beneath my feet.”
I cast my gaze around and my eyes fell on Valentina. I saw the thirst there, just barely being restrained by her iron will. Stephan stood beside her, fidgeting against the grip of his captor and Otto was now, claw by claw, inching his way towards the stream.
Looking upwards, I could only make out the nearest of the figures hanging from the roof, but guessed that there must be dozens of dead bodies being slowly drained of blood like animals in some ghastly abattoir. And this was only the beginning. Night had only just fallen.
Pitt got to his feet. His vampire guard had stepped back as he'd vomited on the cobble path beside the screen and I caught the inspector's eye as he straightened. I have seen many inexplicable things in the years since these events took place, and I can only explain what passed between Pitt and I in that moment as telepathy. In that single glance, we knew that now was the last possible moment for action—futile though it may be.
In a blur of movement, he lunged in my direction and swung his fist at Peregrine. The vampire fell backwards as others leapt on Pitt. Our moment of communication had rendered me prepared and I stuck my hand in my pocket looking for the snub-nosed gun, only to remember that Peregrine had taken it from me. The only thing that remained was one of the brass balls of similar size and shape to glass marbles. In utter desperation, I pulled it from the depths of my pocket as forms were moving around me. I heard the demon roar and Valentina cry Otto's name and I felt the shoving of hands that tried to grasp me.
A voice cried out. “Squeeze it!”
I squeezed the ball and felt heat instantly build. I threw it blindly away and it rolled into the fighting mass as Peregrine leapt onto my back. In an instant the darkness was replaced by a blinding light and a ball of flame that expanded up, around and along the tunnel. For a horrifying moment I caught sight of the gruesome rows of figures hanging upside down, some moving in response to the sudden illumination.
Peregrine had fallen backwards, and I wrenched the brass gun from his hand before clubbing his head with it. I leapt up, found the pile of writhing bodies covering Pitt and pulled the trigger. Flame erupted from the end of the muzzle and trails of incinerated air flew in a cone of death towards my target. Thank God Pitt himself wasn't exposed as liquid fire ignited the clothes of his attackers, one of whom rolled away and sizzled into the blood stream.
Valentina was wrestling with a large vampire whose muscled arms dwarfed her thin figure. Stephan had jumped on top of the attacker, but he was grabbed from the back by two others who threw him away and then leapt upon him. I made a first step to help them, but Pitt was now aflame and so I stood, paralysed by indecision when a figure blurred past me and thrust a short dagger into the back of the vampire atop Valentina.
“Get your disgusting hands off my vife!” Otto shrieked.
I grabbed Pitt, pointed my weapon into the running mass of attackers and pulled the trigger. Tongues of flame flew at them as I rolled Pitt over to extinguish his clothes. For a moment, hope leapt in my heart as I believed we might actually be winning. And then I heard the demon roar.
“Kill them!” it bellowed; the rage-filled cry echoing along the sewer.
I knew that there was nothing I could do to stop that creature. Fire might work on vampires, but here was a monster that had emerged out of the flame and I had no weapon that could touch it.
Another cry. A different voice.
“No!”
The demon seemed to rise in the darkness, becoming a hideous silhouette as it passed in front of the burning torches. I fell back as a running figure knocked me over. I saw sharp teeth in a red maw as saliva spattered over my face and remembered, in the final instant, the small knife Stephan had insisted I carry. Bending my knees, I was able to pull my shoe back and, as I vainly pushed at the ravening beast with one hand, I grabbed the knife with the other and plunged it with all my strength into the back of its head.
It fell forward, its jaws locking around my forearm in its agony. Behind it, rising like a dragon out of a mountain, I saw the demon. It cried again, rising higher.
“No!”
This time, I knew that voice.
“Grimes!”
The demon rose then and through its midriff appeared a blue glow which spread across its torso as the monster roared.
Our attackers froze and then panicked, jumping
away and running back into the basement we'd come from.
“Quickly,” Grimes called, and I knew, from the utter exhaustion in that voice, that we had mere seconds. “Back to the flame.”
The five of us carried the paralysed body through the door back into the basement. The demon roared again, then shouted in a foul language whose words I could not understand, but whose meaning was clear enough. We had moments before whatever Grimes had done would wear off.
Grimes was following us, limping and barely able to stay upright. “Put him into the flame,” he said.
It looked impossible. The red fire had shrunken in size and I could see no way to get the huge body inside. But we had no alternative. The blue glow was almost gone, and I could feel the heat and vitality of the creature returning. “Quick!” I cried. “Head first!”
So, we ran at the scarlet flame, plunging the head inside first. The flame blossomed as if being fed by a new supply of fuel, so we pushed at the body, feeling some resistance as if the flame were the gateway to some viscous liquid. The body twitched, the arms began to move and, just as it was about to disappear into the flame, one clawed hand flailed at the air, grabbed Stephan's arm and he was dragged, howling, inside.
“Stephan!” Valentina cried.
A shape flew past her as Otto flung himself into the flame just as it closed.
I held Valentina back until there was no possibility of her following her husband and son to whatever dimension the flame led, and then turned to Pitt who nodded wearily. “Help Grimes,” he said.
So, I knelt beside my friend. He was lying on the floor, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He was cold, deathly cold.
I took off my coat and put it over him and then ran back into the sewer, ignoring the moans from above, and brought a torch back before building a fire from bits of furniture I found scattered around the basement. Finally, I set light to the wooden scaffold that Grimes had been tied to, its blaze illuminating the entire basement. There were no living vampires, save Valentina, in that place that I could see.
The Last Watchman Page 17