by Amy Cross
"Don't be weak, Abigail," Benjamin says. "They wouldn't have turned out any better than the fully-grown specimen. I must work on your DNA and find a way to remove this fault." He looks at me for a moment, and there's something new in his eyes; it's as if, suddenly, he sees me differently. "We'll have to do a lot of work to deal with this problem," he continues. "It's perfectly achievable, but I'm afraid we'll have to delay the whole project while we work on finding a solution." Sighing, he turns and walks toward the exit, before glancing back at me. "We're done here," he says, sounding a little tired. "Come this way."
"No," I say.
He stares at me, as if he can't quite believe what I just said.
"I'm not helping you," I tell him. My voice is wavering, and I'm filled with fear at the prospect of standing up to him, but I feel I can't go on with these plans any longer. He just killed thousands of living creatures, using just a button in the palm of his hand. He shows no remorse, no real sadness. To him, those creatures were just objects to be studied, tested, and - ultimately - discarded. Now that I've seen the truth about what Benjamin is doing, and about the methods he's willing to use, I don't want to be part of his experiments. "I don't want to do this," I say.
"Don't be stupid," he replies. "Come on. We're leaving."
"No," I say firmly. "I'm not coming with you."
Sighing, he looks down at the device in his hand. "Perhaps I need to remind you of something," he says, before pressing a button.
Screaming, I drop to my knees as an intense pain floods into my body from the metal collar around my neck. It feels as if a thousand daggers are carving their way through my flesh, and it's much worse than any of the pain he inflicted on me in the earlier experiments. All I can think about is that I want it to stop. I'll do absolutely anything to escape the pain, but it goes on and on and on until, finally, it vanishes and I roll onto my side.
"Do we have a problem?" Benjamin asks calmly.
I stare up at the ceiling. I want to get out of here. I want to hurt him. At the same time, I can't bear the thought of that pain ever coming back; I can't do anything that might result in more punishment.
"You know the worst kind of pity?" he asks. "Self pity. Get rid of it. Iron it out of your soul, or I'll do it for you. Don't be like that creature in the jar who turned to watch as his neighbor was executed. Be strong, Abigail, and focus on the big picture. Now come on. I don't have time to argue about unimportant things."
Getting to my feet, I start to stagger toward him. Although I've always known that Benjamin has a ruthless streak, I'm finding it hard to believe that he'd be willing to hurt me like this. He always promised that the collar was purely to monitor my body, and to protect me. Why would he lie to me? Filled with horror at how naive I've been, I reach the doorway and stare into Benjamin's eyes. Shelley was right. I've made a terrible mistake.
"You have to learn to trust me," he says. "I was developing these ideas long before you were even born. I've been through the ethical and moral questions, and I've resolved them. There's no time for me to stop all my work now and help you do the same thing. You simply have to trust me. Have a little faith, Abigail." He smiles. "You do trust me, don't you?"
I stare at him.
"Oh," he says, sounding disappointed. "A pause. How unfortunate. Let's see if we can change that."
Before I can react, he hits the button again and the pain returns. I drop to the ground, and this time - if anything - the agony is worse than before. I can't think, I can't fight back. All I can do is scream as it feels as if my body is going to be ripped apart by the pain that threatens to consume me. This time, it seems to last even longer, and I start to realize that maybe it's never going to stop; maybe this is how Benjamin intends for me to spend the rest of my life.
Patrick
"Why did you warn me?" asks Shelley. "Why did you make me live so long, knowing that I was going to die at Abigail's hands?"
Why must this procession of ghosts come to visit me in my final moments? If Sophie won't come to me, I would prefer that everyone stays away, yet it seems they're determined to taunt me. I understand, in a way, why I must be visited by the ghosts of those whose lives I have destroyed, but I long for death to claim me so that I no longer have to deal with this litany of my own failings. Must I linger while the likes of Dexter Logan, Todd and Joseph Hart, and even Cassandra come to gloat over my demise? What about John Tarmey, the mad-man who convinced himself that he was a vampire? Will they all visit me?
"She's better than you realize," Shelley continues. "Stronger, too. She'd never make the same mistakes Sophie made. You should have a little more faith in her."
Faith. I had faith in Abigail once, back when she was no more than a child. I saw her potential, and I believed she would fulfill that potential, especially with a little help from me. Over time, however, I found that she was too easily lured into Benjamin's world. Ever since that night I found her next to the dead body of the girl in Callerton, I realized that Abigail suffered from a serious emotional weakness. While I sometimes struggle to follow my feelings, Abigail has the opposite problem: she allows herself to be led by her passions, with the result that she makes foolish, impetuous decisions that she can't justify later. My faith in her strength of characters has been pushed beyond its limits.
"Have you seen Sophie?" Shelley asks suddenly.
Slowly, I turn to her.
She smiles. "Finally, a reaction." She leans closer. "Goodbye, Patrick." She kisses my forehead, and then she's gone.
Perhaps she was right. Perhaps I should have a little more faith in Abigail. After all, Benjamin is only a man, and it's still possible that Abigail will turn against him. It might be the case that all she needs is one final moment of encouragement to help her see that she can stand alone and make the right decision. Pausing for a moment, I search my soul for any last remaining energy. Finally, although it hurts more than anything I've ever felt in my life, I haul myself up off the ground and - filled with a strange kind of faith in Abigail's future - I stumble across the rocky ground, determined to help her one final time.
Abigail
All I can do now is scream. Wracked with pain, I writhe on the ground as the metal collar delivers an increasing dose of pure agony directly into my body. I don't know how the device works, but it seems to be burning every nerve I have, and each moment is worse than the last. I might not be in danger of dying, but I can feel my sanity being tested by the enormous trauma of the experience. Worse than that, though, is the feeling of betrayal. I trusted Benjamin, and I was certain he'd look after me; now I find that he's simply using me to conduct more of his hideous experiments, and he clearly has no compunction when it comes to using pain and torture to get what he wants. Have I reached a point where my only option is to comply with his demands? When I let him put this collar around my neck, did I sign my life away forever?
"There," Benjamin says, as the pain suddenly fades away, leaving behind just a dull ache in my trembling body. "Have you learned your lesson yet, Abigail? We need to work together, but you have to be willing to accept my orders. Now get up. We've got to get going."
Barely able to breathe, and still shaking, I slowly stand and turn to him. There's a part of me that wants to strike out at him, to rip him apart. Maybe I wouldn't be able to get the collar off my neck, but at least I'd have revenge. I could take the controller and destroy it, so that no-one would ever be able to hurt me again. The thought is tempting, but I'd have to be absolutely certain that I could pull it off. If I failed, Benjamin might punish me forever.
"Don't even think about it," Benjamin says firmly. "I can see it in your eyes, Abigail. I can see what you're thinking. Let me warn you right now that if you even try to hurt me, I'll make sure you spend the next thousand years in unending misery and pain. Believe me, I have safeguards in place. Kill me, and you'll suffer for the rest of your life."
Filled with rage, I realize he's right. For now, at least. I've allowed myself to be backed into a corner, and
it'll take more than brute force to get out. Perhaps if I bide my time, I can find a better solution; I can discover some way to get the collar off, and then I'll be free to do whatever I want with Benjamin. It might take a long time for the moment to come, but I'll be patient.
"Show me that you obey me," he says. "Kneel, Abigail."
I stare at him.
"Kneel," he says again. "I won't ask a third time. The alternative is more pain. And more. And more. Until you willingly kneel before me and show me that I have your undying allegiance, I will have no choice but to keep hurting you."
I watch as his finger hovers over the button that controls the device. With every inch of my body, I'm determined to not give him what he wants. At the same time, I can't take any more pain. If kneeling will buy me some time to come up with a better plan, I guess that's what I'll have to do. Slowly, I get down onto my knees and look up at him.
"That's a very good choice," he says, smiling. "I'm sure we can repair our friendship, Abigail. We can get back to how things used to be before you had this little burst of rebellion. Now come with me, and we'll get to work." Turning, he starts walking away. Reluctantly, I stand up and follow him, but after a moment I see that Benjamin has come to a halt. Looking ahead, I see a figure standing further along the corridor; it takes a moment before I realize, with shock, that it's Patrick. Still looking old and tired, and clearly on the verge of death, he's staring at us.
"Abigail, stay back," Benjamin says, a hint of fear in his voice. "I can deal with this, but you must stay behind me."
Slowly, Patrick starts walking toward us, but after a couple of seconds he stumbles and falls to the ground. He hauls himself up again, but it's clear that the effort is too much for his dying body.
"Now this is a remarkable sight," Benjamin says as Patrick continues to make his way toward us. "A creature that by any rights should already be dead, yet look how he forces himself onward. It's as if his mind has been completely destroyed, but his body refuses to yield." He turns to me. "Don't you find this fascinating, Abigail? On a purely scientific level, of course. Even in his final moments, Patrick chooses to come at me and try to..." He smiles. "Well, what exactly does he think he can do to me?" Stepping toward Patrick, Benjamin stands face to face with him. "Why are you here?" he asks. "You can barely walk. What do you think you can do? You can't stop us. You can't even hurt us. You're weak and powerless."
For a moment, Patrick stares straight into Benjamin's eyes; seconds later, pushing past him, Patrick stumbles toward me. My first instinct is to turn and run, but I don't want to seem weak. As Patrick reaches me, he seems totally exhausted, but it's as if there's one final thing he has to do. He could have attacked Benjamin, and that's what I expected him to do; instead, he seems to have ignored Benjamin completely, preferring to come to me.
"What do you want?" I ask quietly, looking into his eyes.
He stares at me, and for a moment I feel as if he's going to speak. Finally, he reaches up, puts his hands on the metal collar around my neck, and tries to pull it away.
Behind him, Benjamin starts laughing. "Bad idea. The collar delivers a cerebral shock that affects anything it touches. I'm very sorry, Abigail, but you'll have to endure another bout of pain until Patrick lets go." With that, he presses the button.
The pain returns. Patrick and I both drop to the ground as the agony burns through our bodies. Still, though, Patrick refuses to let go of the collar, even though I'm trying to push him away. I don't understand why he's doing something that he knows will hurt me, and which is clearly causing him to feel the same pain. Letting out a scream, I put my hands on his shoulders and try desperately to get him to leave me alone, but he seems to have summoned up a final burst of energy and he's far too strong for me. Is he trying to get us both killed? Does he think I should die with him? Just as I think I'm going to pass out, Patrick opens his mouth, bares his fangs and lets out a roar that shakes my bones; moments later, the metal collar snaps and falls to the ground, and the pain stops.
Immediately pulling away, I scramble to my feet and reach up to feel my bare neck. The collar is on the ground, broken. I look over at Patrick and see that he's already trying to attack Benjamin, but he's far too weak and he can't even get up off the ground. Benjamin walks over and steps on Patrick's chest, forcing him down.
"Stay where you are, Abigail," Benjamin says firmly. "Let me deal with this. Pick up the collar. I can repair it when we get back to the facility."
Hesitating, I see the broken collar and realize I don't want to wear it again. There's no way I can let Benjamin ever regain that level of control over me. I don't want to feel so much pain, not ever again.
"Abigail, pick up the collar," Benjamin says, and there's clear anger in his voice. He puts his foot on Patrick's neck and starts pushing down against him. "Abigail," he continues, "don't defy me. Pick up the collar and leave. I have to ensure that this time there's no way for this tired old beast to return."
I look down at the collar, and then I look over at Patrick and see that he's looking not at Benjamin, but at me. From the expression in his eyes, I realize he wants me to go; he wants me to get out of here, to run and never stop running, to get away from Benjamin and to never have another damn collar around my neck.
"Let go of him," I say, feeling my whole body tremble at the thought of making a stand against Benjamin.
"Pick up the collar," Benjamin replies firmly, keeping his foot on Patrick's throat.
"Let go of him," I say again. The trembling stops and I feel, instead, an icy determination. Benjamin is wrong. Patrick was just trying to help me, to free me from the collar.
"I won't tell you again, Abigail," Benjamin says. "Pick up the collar immediately."
I pause for a moment, and then finally I reach down and do what he asks. Holding the collar in my hands, I imagine what it would be like to have it back around my neck.
"Good," he says. "Now take it and go back to the facility. Wait for me there." He turns back to Patrick.
For a moment, it occurs to me that I could obey Benjamin. I could take the collar, and go and wait obediently for him to come back and fix it. My life would be structured and organized, and I'd never have to be alone. Benjamin's experiments could continue, and I could find out more and more about who - and what - I really am. Or I could run. I could turn and get away from here, get away from Benjamin and Patrick and all the pain. I'm sure Benjamin would try to hunt me down, but I'm pretty sure I'd have a decent chance of keeping one step ahead of him this time. Then again, I'd never be able to relax, and I'd always be looking over my shoulder. Alternatively, I could -
"Fine," Benjamin says suddenly. "I can see you need another lesson."
Before I can react, he presses the button on his hand-held device and the collar delivers a new shock to me. I feel the pain spreading through my body, but instead of dropping the collar, I keep hold of it. Finally, filled with a realization that this all has to end right now, I step toward Benjamin, knock the device from his hand and stare into his shocked face for a moment, before grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to kneel.
"If you kill me," he says, his voice trembling, "you'll never know what you are."
"I already know what I am," I reply. "Let me give you a clue." With that, I lean down and sink my teeth into his neck, ripping a chunk of flesh away and spitting it out as blood sprays from the wound. Without pausing to feed, I take another chunk from his throat, this time feeling my teeth grinding against his bone. I grab his jaw and tear his head almost all the way off his body, and then I jam the collar into the bloody stump of his neck. His body convulses for a moment, and then he's still. Sensing that his heartbeat has stopped, I let go, and he falls to the ground. He's dead.
"Are you okay?" I ask, turning to Patrick, but I immediately see that he's at the point of death. Hurrying to him, I kneel next to his body and look into his eyes. Did I do the right thing? I had two fathers in the end: one real, and one who sought to take the position by force. Lo
oking at Patrick now, I see something in his eyes that I never saw before; I see compassion, and maybe even love. "I'm going to destroy this place," I say to him, feeling as if I have to burn everything and then get as far away from Dedston as possible. "I'm going to make sure there's no trace of Benjamin's experiments left."
Patrick stares at me for a moment, and then he opens his mouth and it seems as if he's trying to say something. A faint rasping sound comes from his throat, but he's too weak to form any words.
"It's okay," I say, putting a finger against his lips. "I understand. You don't have to say anything."
He pauses, and then finally something happens that I never, ever thought I'd see. He smiles. As he does so, a hint of smoke starts rising up from his clothes. I step back as I realize that his body is starting to burn. I have no idea how vampires die, but within a few seconds I have to shield my eyes as a raging inferno flares all over his body. The heat is intense, and it seems to be growing and growing. My first instinct is to run, but then I realize that maybe I should just stay here and hope that the fire consumes me. After all, I don't think I can live with the things I've done. I killed Shelley, and Todd, and Donna. I don't deserve to live. Maybe the blaze from Patrick's body will incinerate me as well.
Sitting down on the rocky ground, with tears streaming from my face, I feel the intense roar of the flames start to engulf me, as the white heat flares and burns. I hold out my hands and see that they're slowly starting to burn, and I realize that if this fire can destroy Patrick's body, then it can also destroy mine. I'm the last vampire now, but maybe the world would be a better place if there were no vampires at all. Instead of starting a new vampire race, I can end our species right here and now. When Patrick wanted to kill all the vampires, he had to kill thousands. I'm lucky. I can do the same thing, just by sitting here and letting myself die.