Monster Page 9
“You will not do so,” he said in a voice that dripped of ice and death. The other vampyres moved quickly to surround me.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I demanded.
“The same reason that we did not slay you while you slept. Because we both serve the same master.”
“That is not true!”
“Of course it is.” He smiled at me though his eyes remained lifeless. “Only Satan’s darkest arts could create a being like you, as he created us. I am curious, what type of being are you exactly?”
Henriette stirred on the ground. She was still alive. I raced over to her and was prepared to strike this vampyre down, but he stepped aside with a quickness that surpassed my own movement. I kneeled beside Henriette to soothe her. Their marks were upon her neck. As I tried to comfort her, she groaned softly.
“It is because of you that we took her,” the vampyre told me while I tended to Henriette. “We were content to feed on the wayward traveler and lost soldier, but your brazen stealing of those young girls sent angry hunting parties into the forest. We had to move deeper into the forest ourselves to avoid them, and have found far less to prey on here. I am curious. What have you done with all those young girls that you stole?”
I did not bother to answer him. Henriette was stirring fitfully on the ground. Her eyes were closed, and her face looked pale in the dim moonlight.
“It is too late for her,” the vampyre told me. “Because of her beauty, we chose not to drain her of all her blood, but to instead make her one of us.”
I tried desperately to wake Henriette from whatever disturbed dream she was engaged in. The vampyre laughed at this, as did several of his companions. Henriette opened her eyes. When I saw the deadness in them, I knew she was lost to me. She made a horrible guttural noise, and sprang forward to attack me, but was still too weak and her attack was feeble. Her eyes closed and she collapsed back to the ground.
“This is unfair,” I cried. “I was supposed to rescue her. She was supposed to live a good life in Venice. This is unfair!”
“Much is unfair,” the vampyre said, amused.
The pain that seized my heart was as horrible as the guttural noise that had escaped from Henriette’s lips. I tilted my head toward the pale moon and bellowed my agony at it. The other vampyres laughed at this. I sprung to my feet and turned to them in a murderous rage.
“I should kill you all,” I swore.
“You could try,” the lead vampyre said, his eyes darkening to the color of coal as he smiled at me. “You are of greater size, and most likely greater strength. But we have strength also, and a quickness that would most likely surprise you. Also there are five of us, soon to be six. But if you are successful and are able to kill us all, who would tend to your companion? Unless of course you wish to kill her also. If you do, now would be the easiest time as she is still very weak and in another hour she will be like us. All you would need to do is thrust your fist into her chest and rip out her heart. If you wish to do so none of us will stop you, although it would be a shame. I am so looking forward to ravaging her body once she has fully become one of us.”
He had said this as a jest to mock me, but I realized this was the only way that I could save Henriette. If I left her, she would become a detestable night creature like these others. In life she was pure and innocent, and I could not leave her to become something vile. With my heart as heavy as stone I dropped beside her. Before any of the other vampyres could react, I struck my fist into her chest. A gasp came from her, but as I ripped out her heart, a peacefulness settled over her features.
“You are a fool,” the vampyre hissed at me.
“Leave me or attack me,” I demanded as I spun around to face them with Henriette’s heart still clutched in my fist. Their leader stood relaxed while the other vampyres continued to circle me, moving like shadows as they did. At last their leader spat on the ground with contempt. “It would not be worth the effort,” he said. “We would most likely choke on your blood.” With that he turned and ran off with the other vampyres following him.
I dug a grave for Henriette and placed her body within it. After that I fashioned a marker for her grave out of loose stones.
I knelt by her grave and prayed for her forgiveness.
CHAPTER 14
I grieved by Henriette’s grave over the next four days. The vampyres did not return, and I was left undisturbed.
When she was alive, Henriette had been an anchor holding me to the promise of being something better than I was. During our brief time together not only did I find myself enjoying her companionship and good cheer, but thoughts of bringing her safely to Venice had occupied my mind and kept my obsession for vengeance at bay. Henriette had made me feel human again. When I was with her I would frequently forget about my hideous appearance and often envision myself as Friedrich Hoffmann. But I had failed her, just as I had my dearest Johanna. Now that Henriette was gone, I was once again consumed by my desire for vengeance toward Victor Frankenstein, and once again felt that terrible pull on me to travel southwards.
I could no longer think of myself as something human, but only as an abomination. It was my actions that created the environment that allowed Henriette to be accused as a witch, and I was the one who led her to a nest of vampyres. I should have recognized those wolves for what they were. I should have known they were a different kind of creature from those that had attacked me earlier. How could I have failed to keep watch over Henriette after that? Although it was never my intention, I was the reason for her damnation, and perhaps also Johanna’s. If Frankenstein was responsible for Johanna’s murder as I suspected, would it have happened if not for me?
When I left Henriette’s grave, I surrendered myself to the urge that was pulling me south. I thought of what that vampyre had told me. How we both served the same master. Perhaps he was right. When I recounted all the evil that I had been responsible for since my transformation—from my noxious skulking through the homes of innocent men and women, to the fear that I created and saw so brightly in that young girl’s eyes, and finally, Henriette’s horrible fate—perhaps I had been serving the Devil without realizing it, and the goodness that I had earlier believed I still held from Friedrich Hoffmann was only illusionary. But I did not feel any of that goodness anymore. All I felt now was wretchedness.
I traveled aimlessly, letting that urge pull me where it wanted. When I came across a waterfall that would have delighted me when I was Friedrich Hoffmann, I felt nothing. Same with the other sights and sounds of nature. Colorful birds, wildflowers, ancient trees—no longer did any of these sights affect me. All I could feel was an ever-growing thirst for vengeance, and the overwhelming need to locate Victor Frankenstein.
One evening while dusk was approaching, I came across a satanic mass. The mass was being held in a clearing by a large rock that had a curious shape similar to that of a human head. Two trees grew on the top of this rock, appearing as if they were horns. I watched as several dozen figures hidden in black robes called out for Satan to join them, then as a goat was brought out and fed consecrated wafers.
A young girl was next carried out by several of their members. They held her down and stripped her of her clothing so that she lay struggling naked among them. When one of these black-robed figures showed a large curving knife to the sky, I realized that they were planning to sacrifice this girl, and I stepped out from my hiding place and ordered them to release her. I had my own hood off my face so that they could fully see me and fear me. They turned toward me, surprised by my presence, and then they fell to the ground kneeling in supplication. The one who had held the knife spoke.
“Oh Dark Lord, you have come as we have begged you to.” He dared to look up at me, his face hidden under his black robe so that all I could see were his eyes shining with a mix of fear and delight. “We are your most humble servants. Once hearing how you have been traveling the country, we assembled here from a great distance to bring you forward so that we may serve you.”
“We brought a virgin for you,” he said, his voice trembling with nervousness. “We were about to sacrifice her for you. Would you like us to go through with the act? Or perhaps you would rather enjoy her first?”
The young girl could not have been much older than fourteen. She was so thin, just a wisp of a child, her legs and arms like broomsticks. Although they had released her as I demanded, she lay on the ground too terrified to move “Where did you take her from?” I asked.
“A small village. Not too far from our own city of Innsbruck.”
“Clothe her! She is to be brought back to her home. She is not to be harmed. Do you understand me?”
He nodded, although his eyes showed his disappointment. The girl was helped to her feet by the two members who had previously held her down, and they now helped her with her clothing. She looked like she wanted to flee, but was too paralyzed with fear to do so.
“Do not worry, child,” I told her. “You will be brought home safely. I promise you that.”
I turned to the leader of this black satanic mass. “Why are your people waiting? I want her travel to commence now!”
“Now?” he asked glumly. “But your lord, it will be dark soon and it is a hard two days travel.”
“I see that you have torches. Your people can use them.”
He nodded without much enthusiasm, and ordered two of the Satanists to take her. They didn’t like the idea, and they tried arguing that they had traveled all this distance to be in my service and that they did not wish to leave me now. I ended their argument by bellowing at them to do as they were being asked. For a moment they both looked like they might expire where they stood, but once they regained their composure they nodded meekly.
“Make sure you bring enough food and water for her,” I said. “I wish her to be made comfortable.”
Again, they nodded with their eyes downcast. I watched as they gathered up supplies, and once they left with the girl, I ordered the other Satanists to remove their robes.
They did as they were commanded and stood naked in front of me. I was surprised to see that they were an almost even mix of men and women. The men all seemed to be either thin and bony or plump; none of them had the type of physique to indicate that they labored for their livelihood. Most likely these were bankers, lawyers and bureaucrats. Or perhaps noblemen who were provided incomes without ever needing to work. A grin wrinkled my face as I imagined how some of them might even be members of the clergy. The women among them seemed younger as a whole, and more attractive, but the softness of their bodies also showed them to be of the same privileged class as the men.
The Satanist who had held the long curving knife and who had first addressed me was of the thin and bony variety. He was perhaps fifty, and had a long scrawny neck that showed a pronounced Adam’s apple. His face, like his body, held little flesh.
“Your lord,” he spoke, his eyes showing his eagerness to please me. “We have brought a throne for you, and much wine. Would it please you to be seated?”
As I looked at him and the rest of the Satanists, a heavy weariness fell over me. At that moment, the thought of sitting down appealed to me, as did drinking enough wine to allow me to escape my thoughts. I told him to bring their throne, and the wine.
Half a dozen of them rushed off, and when they returned they brought back a wagon that was being pulled by a team of donkeys. These men proceeded to unload a great wooden chair that was covered with satin cushions. This chair would have been far too big for me when I was Friedrich Hoffmann, or any other man or woman, but was the proper size to hold me now. They struggled as they carried the chair to me. While they did this, other members removed wine barrels from the wagon.
I sat in this chair and it fit me well. One of them had filled a large golden goblet with wine, and had handed it to me. I drank it quickly and the goblet was refilled. Other Satanists built a fire. The goat was slaughtered, and I watched as they roasted it over the flames.
Their leader approached me, the one with the pronounced Adam’s apple.
“I hope all is satisfactory,” he said. “I apologize that the virgin we brought was not to your liking. Do you desire any of our women to pleasure you?”
The women all came forward to show themselves, their faces bright with anticipation and eagerness. I emptied my goblet and held it out for it to be refilled.
“Right now all I want is to sit and drink wine,” I said.
“If instead you would like us to bring back younger girls for you, or even young boys—”
My eyes flashed as I growled at him that I wished for now to simply enjoy the wine. I was finding him equally as detestable as I had found Victor Frankenstein’s honored guest, the Marquis. But the wine was dulling my thoughts and my senses, and I did not care how much I detested him or the others as long as my goblet was refilled. If they wanted to idolize me and pamper me, let them. As I drank more wine, the noise around me softened and the sights blurred. I barely noticed as the women danced naked around me.
CHAPTER 15
At first I was only going to stay among them long enough to make sure that that young girl was brought back safely to her home, but as the days blended into a week, I soon grew accustomed to being kept blissfully drunk. When the supplies began to dwindle, the Satanists sent out several of their members with their wagon to bring back finer foods and more wine for me. I became content to let them indulge me as they wished. The wine dulled the grief I felt about Henriette, although not so much for Johanna. Nothing seemed to be able to dull the aching hole I felt in my heart for my beloved. But the wine did help in abating the urge that pulled on me. If they wanted to keep filling my goblet and feeding me food, who was I to stop them? Besides, maybe they were right in idolizing me. It was the darkest and unholiest magic that breathed life into my new form, and perhaps I was also under Satan’s spell when I performed my skulking and thieving. Maybe they saw me for what I truly was, even if I hadn’t fully recognized that myself.
Their leader tried to ingratiate himself to me, sidling up to me every chance he had, making one wretched proposal after the next. Mostly I ignored him and drank my wine and ate the food that they brought me. But I detested him nonetheless, as I detested all of them. Whenever I would think of that poor girl who was stripped of her clothing and whom they were going to sacrifice, I would be hit with the impulse to squeeze their skulls into pulp. But those impulses would be fleeting, usually forgotten by the time I finished drinking my next gobletful. Still, though, I took a perverse pleasure in debasing them. After almost two weeks of keeping them naked, their leader worked up the courage to ask me if they could put their robes back on.
“It has become very uncomfortable,” he admitted. “With insects biting our exposed flesh and dirt getting into uncomfortable areas—”
“Not now,” I said, feeling my coarseness rising. “For now I demand that my loyal subjects engage in a copulation contest, the winners of which will receive my blessing.”
I paired them off. There were two more men than there were women, so I paired their leader with a plump man whose skin was the color of boiled ham. I told the plump man that he would be the husband, and the leader—the one with the scrawny neck and bony body—that he would be the wife. Then I ordered them to commence, and they all did with a fervor that was terrible to witness. But I tried not to pay attention to them. For the most part I was able to ignore their grunts and squeals, and instead focused on the wine and on the drunken blissfulness that it provided me.
After an hour their noises showed more pain than pleasure, and I could sense them stealing looks toward me in the hope that this contest would end soon. I laughed inwardly at the wretchedness of this, and told them that I would announce at my choosing when the contest would be finished.
“If I detect any lack of fervor from any of you,” I bellowed, “you will feel my wrath as no man or woman has ever before!”
That caused all of them to engage themselves more passionately, and soon the sounds that came from them were as if they being tortured, but I just closed my eyes and tried not to listen. Every time I was about to relent I thought of that young child that they had stolen to sacrifice, and instead I would fill my goblet with more wine. Perhaps at some subconscious level I wished to be done with them and hoped they would all expire from this activity, but it wasn’t until the next morning that I stopped them. None of them had expired, but they all looked in great pain as they lay collapsed on the ground.
The winners turned out to be the plump ham-colored man and the thin bony-necked leader. They both had to struggle to get to their feet, and they looked as if they were in agony as they stood bow-legged in front of me. I had them turn around and bend over before I would give them my blessing. Then I staggered to my feet and booted one of them, then the other. My heart just wasn’t in it, though. I was beginning to feel some pity toward these detestable persons, for I sent each of them flying less than ten feet. They both lay on the ground groaning miserably, but I had failed to cripple or injure either of them seriously, for within minutes they were both hobbling to their feet and thanking me for my blessing.
I told all of them then that they could put their robes on.
I then sunk back onto the throne they had constructed for me, and felt every bit as detestable as I found them. In my extreme cruelty, I had debased myself as much as I had them. Was there really any difference between myself and these devil worshippers? I laughed sourly over how fitting it seemed that they should be worshipping me. One of them crawled over to me to refill my goblet—a chore that I had had to undertake myself during the malicious physical activity that I had put them through. As I emptied this wine down my throat, I accepted that I had sunk to a level where I was no better than them.