“I mean… I know that we haven’t known each other that long but… y-you wouldn’t even mourn me?”
“Ja, ja, there vould be mourning! I am sitting und I am sad und there vill be der crying mit the tears und around every perfectly-seasoned morsel I am sobbing ‘Auf weidersehen, mein freund! May the gods of poultry have mercy upon you!’”
I shook my head and hopped off the bench, my silver spurs ringing together prettily as I landed and they struck each other. I was starting to think that I was ready for a little more quiet time. Abraham stood as well, moving across the room to the cage that contained Hase the great grey rabbit. I saw him stick the tip of the hollow needle into the solution and pull the plunger back, the needle drinking the solution up greedily into its confines. He whispered soothing words in German to Hase, but apparently the hare didn’t have a long floppy ear for the language either.
“What’s he doing?” asked Hase as Abraham opened the heavy latch on the rabbit’s cage.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to watch, but I caught a glimpse. Hase tried to back himself into a corner but there was only so far he could go.
At the end of the night, the needle was empty and Hase was dead.
October 18
Dawn.
I was outside, perched on the top of our little apartment on the outskirts of London and I was crowing to the world: I am still here. The warmth of the sunlight was muted by dark clouds hanging heavily in the sky above me, but in the distance it was cast in ribbons of violet and orange. I moved from my roost and flapped my wings to slow my fall. I had to play my part, just as my master was out playing his. He had not yet returned from his meeting with the Detective. But that didn’t change what my orders were. The Count was in residence, he was playing the game, and I had to make sure just what side he fell on. My master had left me the knife that had slit the Count’s throat on the dusty Borgo Pass, years ago. Shame it didn’t take, but at least the blade would provide me the connection I needed to work my spell.
I found a patch of dirt in the back of our apartment that wasn’t visible from the street and dragged the knife there between my beak. I dropped it and started scratching the circle into the dirt. Body or no body the diagram was something ingrained in me. I paused only to gulp down a deliciously squirmy worm and was thankful for the repast. Divination is hungry work. I kicked up the dirt and moved around the circle, my wings bowed to the depths and raised to the stars just as it must always be. I focused on the knife and I focused on the Count and the moment the sun climbed high enough to cast its rays down onto my circle, I had my answer.
October 19
I stared out of the window into the dismal, rain soaked darkness. Abraham was entertaining a woman that had come calling and that left me with plenty of time on my hands. Part of my duties was making sure that no one else could discern our presence in the game. It was not an easy thing to do and it was never a guaranteed thing. I could only hope that since we had not arrived before the new moon that everything was set without us and the others wouldn’t be searching for yet another player. I drew the lines of power and clucked the words to lend them strength. Chickens have excellent annunciation for such things. Abraham was sipping his tea with the woman and discussing Baruch Spinoza between charming anecdotes from their childhoods. He enjoyed her company, her conversation and I was happy to allow him that. I only drew near when the woman remarked on what a handsome cockerel I was and she was kind enough to drop some of her tea cake down to me which – not to be rude – I pecked up handily.
Eventually I found myself satisfied in my wardings and made my way over to the two cages.
“Is that you handsome? Won’t you help get these covers off… we would love to show you something.” The girls chirped. You know, I think I might have a problem. Even with what happened the last time I had gotten close to the cage, even after seeing them feed earlier this evening before the kindly woman arrived… I was still tempted.
“Do not listen to them… rooster!” Hase said from within his cage. He had come back to life with the setting sun. “Look into my eyes… you will open this latch and set me free.”
I stared at Hase for some time. His normally blue eyes were gleaming a sickly red color and I was drawn to them by some strange affect of the light that seemed to cast bars of shadow above and beneath his illuminated orbs.
“Good. Goood. Now… open the latch!” Hase commanded.
“Why are you talking like that?” I finally asked.
“Because I am transformed! Where once I may have been but a mere rabbit, now I feel the powers of perdition coursing through my sinews!”
“You are still a rabbit.”
“I am vampyre!”
“A vampire rabbit.”
“Come on, Hahn! Are you going to open the latch?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“No, Hase! You’re a vampire!”
“You aren’t his type long ears… but we are…” chirped the covered cage to my right.
I was busy trying to think of a way to respond to that when I looked over at my master. Something had changed in his demeanor. He was serious now, the smiles and the jokes had been packed away. He was playing with his wedding band. That was always a bad sign.
“Have you ever been married, Detective?” Abraham said to the lady while I stared completely confused.
The woman paused mid sip of her tea and set the cup down on the spartan table in front of her. She searched my master’s eyes for a moment and then it was as if she became an entirely different person, her posture changed and her voice dropped from falsetto to a pleasing baritone. It was only then that I realized what Abraham had seen. This human was one that bore watching.
“No, I have not.” the Detective answered. “What gave me away?”
“I am married…I have been for a very long time und I vould take my tea vith my vife everyday. Those vere the best years of my life. There is something very feminine in the vay a voman moves and vhile your efforts are impressive and I vas completely taken by your act for quite a time… you understand…I loved vatching my vife move. Sometimes I could just sit there quiet, lost in the graceful vay she vould putter about the house.”
“What drove your wife to mental illness?” asked the Detective, producing a pipe from within the confines of his billowy skirt. Somewhere far away a rabbit and three cockatoos were trying to get my attention. I left them behind with a single bound that carried me to the wooden floor.
“Our son. He died. My vife vas a good, soft voman… caring… tender. But, fragile. She could not handle the strain.”
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Doctor.” the Detective responded. “Would you mind if I smoked?”
“Not at all, sir. In fact, I have a mind to join you.”
They sat together in silence and puffed on their pipes, spicing the air with thick smoky wisps. The Detective was the first to speak, his nicely lipsticked lips exhaling a trail of smoke to accompany his words.
“You are a part of this.”
Abraham nodded.
“You have done quite well at going unnoticed, Doctor. I am certain that you have never come up in conversation.”
“Are you playing The Game?” Abraham asked.
“Not in any official capacity. Not that I know. What sort of game is this?”
“It is different for everyone who plays.”
“What sort of game is it for you?”
Abraham paused, lost to thought for a moment.
“A counting game. Or… a game of counts. Detective, I do not believe in coincidence. That ve have met in these circumstances I attribute to divine providence. I sense that you are a good man and not just a lawful vun, vich are not alvays the same thing. If you vill indulge me, I vould tell you my role in this. Then I vill ask you for your help.”
My master did not just tell the Detective our plan, he told him everything. To his credit, the dress-wearing-man agreed to assist Abraham without another
question on the matter. I had warned Abraham about bringing civilians into the game. There was no telling what role they would play, but there was a trust between the men. Perhaps they each considered the other a kindred spirit, I couldn’t say. But, as a sign of good faith the Detective did give us a choice bit of information; he had analyzed dirt from the scene of the exsanguinated girl and deduced the resting place of the Count.
Just like that, our goal became a lot more possible.
October 20
It was such a strange game we were playing, Abraham and I. Usually in these things the players make themselves known to each other, a necessary risk to get information on the other players and feel out potential enemies and allies, but here we were, playing things close to our chests. Certainly I’d been approached by a few creatures looking to trade or just to learn what my part in all of this was. But I realized that our only advantage was secrecy. Every time some beast approached me and asked me something I’d pretend like I was deaf and cackle on about some farmer’s rifle retort ruining my ‘ears’ when he fired it too close while chasing away a fox. I don’t know if they all bought it, but I was very dedicated to my role. Eventually the squirrel, the snake and the cat all left me alone. I felt Abraham and I had more to gain by keeping our involvement quiet than to give credence to the hopes that I could somehow cover the information gap of two wasted weeks in an all too short lonesome October. Besides, if Abraham’s plan was going to work we’d have to pull off one of the greatest illusions in the history of the game and that is no small boast.
It had been a long day for we two game crashers. For it was by day that Abraham could act freely and, using the knowledge of the area and its inhabitants that he had gleaned from his meetings with the Detective, we knew which roads to avoid and where exactly we could move to obscure ourselves. I was absolutely spent as we watched the sunset, sitting together in an old graveyard. I could only imagine how my master must have felt. He had hands so he had to do most of the grunt work. Abraham’s coat was draped on the stone to the left of him, taking on the T-shape of a cross. He was quiet, his body slumped with exhaustion, but there was a fire burning in his eyes, one of anticipation and obsession. I was kept in his satchel, but it was far more comfortable now, as the wooden stakes and the mallet had been removed. Somewhere in the distance thunder cracked and it looked like the lightning was striking down upon the same location again and again in bright forked flashes.
Suddenly, I felt the Count’s presence. I knew that my master felt it as well, because he stood upright and all of that weariness dripped off of him as he prepared himself to face an old enemy. The sensation of something terrible, unnatural was overpowering and every instinct in my body made me want to run. I wondered if Abraham felt the same way.
“Ah…” said a perfect, cultivated voice, “I was wondering when you and I would meet again, Doctor.”
“Good evening, Count. I trust you slept vell.”
“You are a foolish man… to challenge me in my element, in the dead of the night.”
I moved just a bit in my satchel to stare at the cloaked count. He shifted forward and my eyes did something strange, it was like I couldn’t focus on him, like he was flowing forward instead of moving.
“I have been here for quite some time, actually. Vaiting for you.” My master said.
“Very. Arrogant. Normally, I find you entertaining, if a bit boorish. But you have caught me at a bad time, Doctor. You are forcing my hand, begging for a death that I should have granted you the moment I saw you. I am afraid that I have very pressing matters that will keep me occupied for the remainder of the month. I have no time for a mouse that thinks himself a cat.”
“You vill not see the end of your game, monster.”
The Count surged forward but my master was ready, lifting a cross that he had obscured behind him and brandishing it at the cloaked figure. The Count hissed and recoiled, his lips twisting into a snarl as he floated back several feet. He composed himself, his lips uncurling as he adjusted his cloak. The moon glinted off the large, opulent ring that adorned his hand.
“How do you know of the game I am playing?”
“Proximity, mostly. I had never been fully convinced of your death und I had been tracking signs of your presence for a very long time. It vas not long before I noticed peculiarities in your behavior… this combined mit my own occult studies led me to discover this little game played every few decades or so, to prevent the rising of the old gods or to release them into the vurld.”
“Doctor… you are not seriously considering playing are you?”
“More than considering.”
“Foolish mortal. You know nothing of the forces which await you and yet still you seek to challenge me without even knowing if we are enemies or allies?”
“Ve vill alvays be enemies, Count. But I know your persuasion. You vish to throw open the gates and make vay for more horrors like yourself.”
“My, who have you been talking to?”
I don’t think I could have tucked my neck in any further. My master didn’t respond.
“What now, Doctor? Do you think that cross will save you from one such as me?”
“I failed to destroy you vunce before and many have suffered for my failure. I vill not repeat the mistake again.”
“And what would you do? We are in darkness and I am its lord. I command the children of the night. I who twist the minds of men with a mere gaze, I who have all the forces of darkness at my disposal. What do you have, would-be-slayer?”
“Dynamite.” Replied my master before slamming his hand down on the detonator’s plunger he had hidden under his coat.
October 21
It was a bit past midnight when we finally limped back home. I could smell the blood dripping down my master’s arm and I knew he’d been hurt. My ears were still ringing from the blast that out-struck the ever present thunder cracks that had plagued the night skies for the past several days. I had swallowed so much dirt that I thought I might never get the taste out of my beak. Even after the devastating explosive blast, that unholy creature was still more than able to fight. This whole plan had been desperate, but the graveyard assault – at night of all times – was particularly so. Abraham wanted to look his immortal enemy in the eye before delivering the death blow. He almost didn’t get his chance. Even with all his preparation it was a hard won victory.
Abraham leaned into the door with a hiss of pain as he shouldered it open. He set the satchel – and me with it – on the ground as gently as he could. He cradled his injured arm as he slumped onto the bench and began going through his medical supplies with one hand. I pulled myself out of the dust-covered leather bag and made my way over to him.
“Abraham!” I fluttered my wings and pushed myself up onto the bench. My throat was scraped sore from breathing in that cloud of dirt and pulverized stone. “Are you alright?”
“Ja…” He replied through gritted teeth. He was cutting away his shirt at about his elbow. The formerly white material was soaked in mud-tinged blood. “Say vhat you vill about the Count, the monster had quite a grip… if you hadn’t crowed vhen you did… I dare say he may have tvisted it off entirely!”
“You’re bleeding.”
“It vill mend… it vill mend.” Abraham tore his shirt sleeve free and I turned around when I noticed the first flash of bone jutting grotesquely from his forearm. He went into his supplies again. The cages containing Hase and the girls were rattling. They must have smelled the wound. I dared to venture a look back in his direction and saw that he was injecting something into himself with the hypodermic needle. He flexed the fingers on his wounded arm and nodded. “Doch… driving a stake is so much harder mit just vun arm.” He sighed. “But just… as satisfying.” Whatever he had given himself was working quickly to take the edge off of his pain.
“You need to get that set.”
“I vill set it. I’m a doctor.” he smiled. His eyes were taking on a hazy quality. “You have to accept the
possibility of risk… in such a venture. Now… tell me… vhat do you make of this?” He set the Count’s magnificent dark-stoned ring onto the table and I shuddered at the energy radiating from it.
“It’s one of the items of power… it can influence the Game but, I don’t know just how. It’s connected to the will of the user. That much I know. It can help you though, and you’re going to need it. Our closing spell is pathetic. We don’t have the ingredients we need to really push it through. And we still don’t know where the event is going to take place. I don’t have a mind for lines and calculations… that needs to be you.”
“It vas never about vhat I can offer the closers. It vas about vhat I could take avay from the openers.”
He tended to his wound, forcing the bone back into place with a clinical detachment, available to him thanks to his morphine-bolstered pain tolerance. Abraham took a swig from a bottle of potent-smelling alcohol and splashed a good amount into the open gash. Then he sutured the jagged split with steady, expert hands. Finally, he splinted his arm and wound long loops of clean linens around it.
By the time he was done, I couldn’t talk with him anymore. That seemed to suit him though, because he set his head down on his uninjured arm and fell asleep without another word.
October 30th
Abraham had been hard at work trying to turn the information that the Detective had provided into a location for the final ceremony. A map of London sprawled across the table, the edges tacked down. Several lines of brightly-colored yarn were tacked down as well, as he put years of occult research to work. I had seen better calculators, but he was far better than any with comparable experience. He had a gift for theurgy and mystic theory. It was a shame he came into it so late in his life. I believe he could have been one of the greats.
I was nervous. The end game was about to start. My master’s plan was suicidal but it was the best we had. There was really no way that Abraham could have forced his way into the game as another player. There wasn’t enough time. Our only recourse was to have him play out someone else’s hand with a different end game in mind. That was going to take a lot of cunning, a lot of luck and – the pessimist inside of me chimed in – a lot of stupidity.
Lovecraft eZine Megapack - 2012 Page 52