The Elixir

by George Willson

  Seward had even come down on the occasion when his orderlies had reported this new behavior, and he saw Renfield no longer paying attention to his fluctuating menagerie, but looking out his window and what appeared to be smelling the air. He would still tend to his pets, but he spent an increasing amount of time gazing toward Carfax and sniffing. Seward was at a loss as to what it meant, and then Renfield referred to a master. He said on several occasions that “The master has come,” but not to anyone in particular. It was more like he was reassuring himself of this information.

  As for the Carfax Abbey, Seward was aware that the company holding the property had finally sold it, and the new tenants had moved in quietly during the night near the time that Renfield started to notice the place. He wondered if he should, perhaps, meet the neighbors at some point, but since his asylum was not exactly a residence, he was not certain of the best approach that would satisfy the etiquette of such an introduction. After all, what could he say to such a person?

  “Hello, I’m the head doctor at the hospital next door. If you happen to spot anyone pounding down your door in the middle of the night, don’t hesitate to shoot first.”

  Those and similar thoughts kept him firmly hidden within his asylum, and he noted that the neighbors did not show themselves much either. He had seen one man on only a couple of occasions appear dressed in black from head to toe, but never his face.

  Seward finally decided to speak with Renfield in an attempt to sort out this master and his relationship to these new neighbors, if indeed, there was one. He approached the orderly at the door to Renfield’s room.

  “What’s he doing?” Seward asked the orderly who was staring through the small window into Renfield’s room.

  “Same thing I’m doing,” the orderly replied. “Just on the other side.”

  “Let me see,” Seward said, and the orderly stepped aside to allow the doctor to look in on his patient. As described, he stood at the window that overlooked the yard just as he had been for weeks now. Not a muscle on him appeared to move at all even though spiders and flies both tried to disturb him. What on earth would make a man stand so, Seward asked himself. He gestured to two other orderlies as he stepped away from the door.

  “All right, open it up,” he said. The orderly unlocked the door and allowed Seward to step in as the other orderlies filled the doorway behind him.

  “Richard?” Seward said. “How are you doing?”

  “He’s here,” Renfield replied, not moving from his place. Seward stepped carefully toward him.

  “Who is here?” Seward asked.

  “The master,” Renfield replied. “He has come. At long last, he has come. I have been waiting.”

  “Who is the master?”

  “He who needs to ask would not understand the answer.”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “All things upon this earth have a name, doctor. It is a foolish question.”

  “Can you tell me his name?”

  “Does a servant dare to speak the name of his master? Does a servant have the right to such an honor?”

  “Whom do you serve?”

  “I serve the one who gave me life. His face I have but only seen in a dream, and if I were to see it once more, I would know it. Life is a precious thing, doctor. Men desire to take it, but none can give it. Even you would desire to try, but you know you cannot. The most precious of gifts is the blood within our veins and the breath within our lungs, and yet, once squelched, it cannot be regained.”

  “Can you see this one who gave you life from here?”

  “Can one see God?”

  “How do you know he is there?”

  “One can know God through his senses. My senses tell me that my master is here.”

  “Do you smell him?”

  “Do I?”

  Seward was uncertain how to respond to this. Who was this master of whom Renfield spoke? Who lived next door? Should he warn his neighbors that this mad man might believe they are some kind of god to him? Before he could come to any conclusion, Renfield spoke again.

  “One should seek his master, doctor. One should show his devotion by bowing at his master’s feet.”

  Renfield shifted his weight and appeared to tense his muscles. Seward saw through this immediately. He stepped back and declared, “Restrain him.”

  The orderlies moved in to hold Renfield as Seward was going to step out and order for a straight jacket, but Renfield tossed the enormous men aside like dolls and leapt out of his cell like an animal. He pushed Seward aside like a bit of rubbish and rushed for the exit. Seward was amazed at how fast the man moved, and before any of the other orderlies could get on him, he had smashed through the main doors.

  “Full lockdown!” Seward called out to anyone who could hear him. The remainder of the orderlies rushed to get the inmates who had some freedom out of their cells back into them. He handpicked six of the largest of his men to follow after Renfield.

  They ran out of the asylum and looked toward the Carfax Abbey next door, and sure enough, he saw Renfield running toward the old structure. Despite his animalistic escape, Renfield was charging away on his feet, like any man would. Seward and his men gave chase.

  Renfield stopped at the edge of the property and called out to the house beyond the wall that separated the yards. “Master, I am here. Hear my voice. Rescue me.” Renfield knelt down as an apparent sign of reverence. “Your servant is here for you.”

  The men reached Renfield and attempted to restrain, but he was ridiculously strong. It took all six of them to hold him, and with that level of strength, Seward feared that a straight jacket might not be enough to hold him. However, once they had him restrained, Renfield clearly gave up the fight and went willingly with them.

  “Well?” Seward asked him as they walked. “Did you find what you wanted out there?”

  “You will find out in due time,” Renfield replied, which did not tell Seward anything.

  That was a few hours ago. He had Renfield put in chains in addition to a straightjacket in his room for now in order to ensure that he would not go anywhere. Still, he wondered, what would cause him to act in such a manner all of a sudden?

  “Dr. Seward! Dr. Seward!” one of his orderlies shouted down the hall toward his office. The urgency in the man’s voice drew Seward instantly out of his room and down to Renfield’s cell.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Mr. Renfield,” the orderly explained. “He is having a fit of violence and pulling on the chains.”

  “What is the emergency?” Seward asked. After all, these sorts of actions were common for their residents, especially those who did not have their full wits about them, a good example of which was Mr. Renfield.

  “Look for yourself, doctor,” the orderly urged, and he stepped aside to allow Seward to look in on Renfield. What he saw was impossible.

  They had chained Renfield’s neck and ankles to the wall and had his body bound in a straightjacket, but somehow, the man had torn the arms of the jacket free and pulled the rest of the jacket apart in shreds. The chains continued to hold his neck and ankles, but there was nothing left of the jacket’s arm restraints, and Renfield struggled at the neck chain. Concerned that he might hurt himself, Seward turned to the orderly.

  “Prepare one of the padded rooms for Mr. Renfield. I do not wish to take the chance of his injuring himself on the chains.”

  The orderly acknowledged the command and left to prepare this. Seward spared one more look at his patient’s fury at his chains and how the wall struggled to hold him. He would need to ensure he had several men on hand to transport Renfield across the asylum to one of the special rooms, which was reinforced and should have no problem holding him if his fury continued.

  It was later that same day when Seward had five of his strongest men move Renfield from his room to the padded one. Confident in the room’s construction, he left his patient free to move about, though Renfield had words for his doctor before he left.<
br />
  “Why do you put me in here?”

  “For your protection, Mr. Renfield. It is our standard practice to keep a resident in chains after an escape to discourage that practice. You have shown considerable strength and propensity to cause harm to yourself. As such, I’ve been forced to take the extreme measure of placing you here to ensure that you do not harm yourself.”

  “You’re the one in danger,” Renfield replied. “You don’t understand who is coming.”

  “Perhaps not,” Seward replied. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “The master,” Renfield said ominously.

  “The master of what or whom?” Seward asked.

  “I only know he called me his child when he first took me in,” Renfield said.

  “And when did he do this? Upon your escape?” Seward asked.

  “No,” Renfield replied. “It was before I arrived here. But be assured that he will come. He will find me. And you will not be able to stop him.”

  “I appreciate the warning,” Seward said and turned to leave.

  “You do not believe, but you will,” Renfield warned. “He’ll come. You’ll see. He will come.”

  Seward paid this little mind, and he left Renfield in that cell for a couple of days. He decided that once the man cooled down, he could return to his room, but on the third day, just when Seward had decided that Renfield could return to his room, an orderly arrived at his office.

  “Dr. Seward, he’s done it again.”

  “Done what?” Seward asked, concerned.

  “Mr. Renfield, doctor, he’s escaped!”

  Surprised at this turn, Seward walked to the orderly and asked, “How is that possible? Was he still in the padded room?”

  “Yes, doctor,” the orderly assured him. “He broke through the outside wall.”

  “He did what?!” Before he could wait for an answer, Seward ran downstairs to the padded rooms and looked through the door to Renfield’s cell, which remained closed and locked. As the orderly had indicated, the wall of the cell was destroyed, its padding shredded. The tremendous strength of Renfield boggled his mind, but the facts were quite indisputable.

  They ran outside, looking across the grounds for their escaped madman, who was certainly a danger to others in addition to himself. The orderly indicated that they had heard the final crash from Renfield’s cell, so he had only been gone a few minutes by the time they had reached Seward’s office.

  Then they heard the pounding and shrieking from the Carfax Abbey grounds. Apparently, Renfield had found a way over the fence and was in the process of disturbing his new neighbors. He hated to trespass, but they had little choice. Some of them climbed the fence between the yards while others ran around through the front gate where they found Renfield pounding on the door to the Abbey’s chapel.

  Two of the men ran toward him to restrain him. He grabbed the first and threw him back toward the fence where he thudded against the ground. Before the second could react, Renfield picked him up and tossed him against the wall of the Abbey itself. With two men down the rest of them kept their distance from Renfield as he watched them in an almost animalistic fashion, his hands on the ground on all fours and growling. The man appeared feral as he stood next to the chapel’s main door, as if he were protecting something. Seward feared they would not able to approach him while he was like this. He had an idea, but it was a long shot.

  “Richard,” Seward said softly. “The master came to the asylum, looking for you.” Renfield’s eyes only burned at him. Seward wasn’t sure if he was reaching him or not. “He did not have time to linger, and said that if you returned, you need to be patient in waiting. If you leave again, you might miss him the next time.”

  Renfield appeared to be considering this. Finally, he relaxed and allowed the men to take him into their custody. They used heavy chains to bind his hands and feet together and walked out through the main gate. As they walked Renfield back to the asylum, Seward felt obligated to knock on the front door of the Abbey to apologize.

  He stood on the stoop and waited for an answer, but none came. He looked along the front façade of the house, and thought he saw movement behind the windows but could not be certain of that. Finally, he gave up and returned to the asylum. He planned to write a note to the owner explaining, to the best of his understanding, the activity on their property this evening with his apologies.

  Once he returned to the asylum, he ordered Renfield to be chained to the floor of an isolated cell in the basement. Once Renfield was restrained, Seward paid him a brief visit. Renfield lay on his back on a cot with his ankles and wrists attached to the floor beneath. It was extreme, and something they had never used before, but they also had never had a patient as strong and dangerous as Renfield.

  “Mr. Renfield, do you understand why you’re here,” Seward asked gently.

  “I missed the master,” Renfield said, his voice cracking as he began to cry.

  “You must show me that you can be patient as the master asked,” Seward said. “If you can do this, I will allow you to return to your room. Do you understand?”

  Renfield nodded.

  “I will have bread and water brought to you,” Seward said.

  “Not water,” Renfield said.

  “No?” Seward turned in surprise. “Why not?”

  “It hurts,” Renfield said. “I have been so thirsty, doctor. But I cannot drink water. Anything else has been fine, but not water.”

  “I will have something brought to quench your thirst,” Seward said. “What has been the most effective?”

  “The rats I have caught have done the most for my thirst,” Renfield said as simply as if he had asked for wine or beer. Seward flinched at the thought.

  “I will have something other than water brought to you for your thirst,” Seward assured.

  “Thank you, doctor,” Renfield said calmly as he stared at the ceiling. “Assure the master that I am here, and I am patient.”

  “If he should come again while you are down here, I will let him know,” Seward said.

  “Thank you again,” Renfield said, and Seward made his way back to his office.

  It was a most curious case indeed. He was not sure how to proceed, but knew that an aversion to water, while unusual, was not unique in any way, nor were extreme fits of strength. He had to wonder what had happened with Renfield during his trip to Transylvania to cause such a state, though. By all accounts, the man was once as normal as anyone else and even successful. It was something he could only keep in mind, though. He considered an old professor of his from the university in Amsterdam where he had gotten his doctorate who specialized in unusual diseases and might even find this Renfield case interesting. He was a man in high demand, though, whose reputation left him with little time for old acquaintances or strange mental cases. Seward had corresponded with him on the odd occasion once upon a time, but as his friend’s time become more and more scarce, replies to Seward’s letters were fewer and further between. Renfield was just another madman in his care, and certainly nothing that would interest Dr. Van Helsing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Lucy was starting to feel better. She had spent most of the last few days inside, and Mina was quite careful to ensure she did not sleepwalk her way outside again. Lucy was not sure what had come over her to cause such an illness, or whatever it was that had happened to her, but she felt the worst of it was behind her, and she was ready to finally spend some time with her friend and more importantly, her fiancée. Arthur had been so busy recently that he had been unable to visit, which was all right given that she was unable to rise from bed. As much as she would have liked to have Arthur present, it would most certainly not have been proper.

  She stood at the exterior door of her room looking out over the back yard toward the east coast of England and the North Sea in the distance. Just barely within the view of her door, she could see the Whitby Abbey and its little churchyard where she and Mina had often walked and where Mina had said Lucy
had found herself before she had taken ill. She reached up to her neck to feel the two marks where Mina had hurt her with her pin when she had wrapped her in a shawl. Mina had felt so bad about it and continued to apologize.

  Suddenly, Mina burst into her room, and Lucy could see nothing but joy in her face.

  “Oh happy day, happy day,” Mina gushed.

  “Whatever is it, Mina?” Lucy asked, taking her friend’s hands.

  “I have heard from Jonathan again,” Mina said. “Or rather, from him through the sisters.”

  “What did they say?” Lucy asked. She was concerned because while Mina had said she was happy, she seemed nervous.

  “They believe he will be ready to leave soon, but he cannot travel on his own,” Mina explained. “He has been asking for me, and I want to be with him to bring him home.”

  “Then what is the problem?” Lucy asked.

  “There is no problem,” Mina said. “Only that if I go, I know that we will be married there, in Hungary. It would be the only proper way for me to be the one to bring him. I had hoped we would be married here with everyone we love. What do you do when life gives you other plans?”

  “Everyone will understand,” Lucy assured her. “I know you are far too proper to do otherwise. If it were me, I would not be so concerned.”

  “This I know well,” Mina said. “But I’m also concerned for you, Lucy.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You’ve been so ill these last few days. How am I to leave you in this state?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. Look at me. I’m doing much better.” Lucy looked at Mina confidently, but she could see what Mina was thinking. She sighed. “I will make sure my door is constantly locked. I will not so much as open it for a draft on a hot day.”

  “Are you sure?” Mina asked.

  “Of course,” Lucy said. “You have to be with the one you love, and he needs you. He needs you more than any man has ever needed me. I know Arthur is smitten, but he’s certainly got along fine recently without me.” Mina still looked torn between going to Jonathan and staying for Lucy. “If I have any trouble, I will send for Arthur, and I promise, he will take care of me.”