The Huge Bang ..... at 47000 words

 The Huge Bang......sure sounds like an orgy. Well, it is more of lovers and families tussling with the combined adapted tales of Vlad the Impaler, Shylock of the Merchant of Venice, and 'Where art thou?" Romeo and Juliet.

I am at the juncture of Romeo meeting Juliet, Vlad soon to be dead, and Shylock offering the loan or a pound of flesh. The start of the tale explores the beginning of the three with several characters to support them. 

Vlad III; we all knew him as Dracula, blood drinker and bloody impaler, but there may be a human side to him. His love for his land and its people and the turmoil of conflicts there. His relationship with his brother, Radu III and his wives. 

Shylock; who was he before he became the money lender? Where was it ever mentioned his younger life? His daughter, Jessica? His wife, Leah (Betcha not many knew of his wife?)? Honestly, at this juncture, I have not figured out where to place in Portia? Will do soon. 

And the Capulets and Montague? Their rivalry begins from when? Was it ...... perhaps love? After all the tale here is about love. Wait...... its Romeo and Juliet here, but how does it link to Shylock and Vlad III? Bloody mess, and ...... add in the era.... coincidence, it was the mid 1400's....... 

And we have a tale. In the words of Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet; 

[MERCUTIO:] This is that very Mab
That plaits the manes of horses in the night
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is she—
ROMEO: Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk’st of nothing.
MERCUTIO: True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air[.] (1.4.89–100)

Queen Mab is her name; a fairy who makes people see dreams that suit their deepest desires, inducing love, lust, money, power, and violence. 

[Chorus]
Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
I travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something

[Verse]
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

Lyrics from Dreams Are Made of these by Eurythmics.

Hey, that is the beauty of a tale.

BANG! BANG!.

 

Another excerpt here...... No Sex included though....

 

The history of banking began with the merchants of the world, who gave grain loans to farmers and traders who carried goods between cities. Over the years, lenders based in temples gave loans while accepting deposits and performing the change of money. The historical roots of the modern banking system trace back to medieval and Renaissance Italy, particularly the affluent cities of Florence and Venice. The loans are known to have been provided at some time at an annual interest of 12%. Banks sometimes made loans available confidentially, which is, they provided funds without being publicly and openly known to have done so. In addition, they kept depositors' names confidential as well. This intermediation per se was known as dia tes trapazēs, translated from Latin as "God will trap you."

“The sins of blasphemy equate to the ones who do not return the loans.” The moneylender looked to the trader who had defaulted on the repayment. They had met at the moneylender’s shop.

“Please, dear sir. Give me some days to find my wares. The storm delays the ship. I promised you that I would deliver my dues in double the interest of your entitlement. Have mercy on me. Christian mercy we shall all share.

“Christian mercy? If I am to shed a tear for every Christian who defaults in their payments, I could have flooded Genoa to be the next Venice.” The moneylender glared at the trader. “I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; a stage where every man must play a part, and mine is a sad one.” (Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare).

“Christian charity, Sir.” The trader pleaded.

“I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?” (Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare).

“Perhaps I am not like any. I am or was your better friend previously.” The moneylender looked to the skies, as if Heaven would open its arms towards him. “I will hold onto your Christian charity then. Give me double my fees in a week’s time, or I shall forfeit your wares.”

“Oh God!” The trader was at a loss for words. A hand was placed on his left shoulder.

“Stand, Antonio Meli. I, Lord Gencio Capulet, will loan you the ducats to pay this … fiendish lender.” The trader turned to look at the man who spoke. “Tell me of your loan.”

“I borrowed three hundred ducats, and with the interest at twelve …” The trader was cut off by the moneylender.

“Fifteen, for he had defaulted by …”

“Here, take the ducats here. It will add to the amount and with some extra for your blasphemy on our faith.” Lord Gencio Capulet tossed the bag of coins to the moneylender. He pulled the trader to his feet.

“The merchants helped each other; if not, we will fall to the pits of their Hell.” Lord Gencio Capulet looked at the lad standing by the moneylender.

“Your name, lad?” Lord Gencio Capulet asked.

“Shylock, Matthew Shylock Jud……”

“Are you any relation to him? His son by blood?” Lord Gencio Capulet asked.

“I am his ...son.” Shylock replied.

“Get a new trade. If you follow your father, then Hell will invite you in with glee.” Lord Gencio Capulet took to his way. Shylock was upset at the insult handed to his father.

An excerpt of the new tale I am penning......Caution adult themed here

 

Radu had stood aside to let the handmaiden do her ministration on the brother. He took to the end of the barracks and took glimpses of the lady. He felt envy that her hands were on the brother and not him. Aylin had been, or rather, assigned to them upon the consent of the Sultana. She was older than the two brothers, but her tiny frame disguised her age. She was dressed in a pinky chemise, or gömlek, with the dark shade short vest buttoned at the bodice, and white baggy trousers, or şalvar. She had on the dainty silken slippers as her standing of handmaiden to the Sultana.

Radu wore the 'mintan' (a vest or short jacket), 'şalvar' (trousers), with the sash at his waist, and 'sarık' on the head, complete with 'çarık' (boots), on the feet. It was his other dressing in the janissary uniform that he wore during training. He saw Vlad was shirtless as expected, and his ‘carik’ was by the bedding.

“Bastard!” Radu muttered to himself. He then took to studying the landscape of the yard; barren of flowers, but there were the well-trodden paths of the others, who had no regard for the growth there, and just stomped their boots on anything growing. He shook his head at their ignorance.

“He is asleep.” Aylin stood behind Radu. “His older scars are healing, but some have broken open. I had …”

“He will not die today.” Radu said. “I wished he would at times.”

“I have time.” Aylin stood behind the lad. She was older by many seasons, but she liked him. Radu nodded and walked to the small chamber at the barrack. She followed him, as was customary there; a lady was to walk behind the man.

“I missed you.” Radu embraced the handmaiden. Aylin held up her face and laid her lips on the other.

“Me too.” Aylin rubbed her body on Radu. As mentioned before, she was dainty in the shape, but to Radu, she was beautiful. His arms went around her lower back and then snaked in down the spine. His fingers parted the seams of the trousers and rested on her bare cheeks there. She felt him at her navel and smiled.

“I have some to apply on you.” Aylin tucked her right hand beneath the sash, but it was tight. “You have to help me there.”

Radu nodded and loosened the sash. She reached in and held him. Her ministrations were slow and soothing. His left hand moved to her bosom and fondled there. It was his youth or his lust; he was all done within the moment. Aylin held up her right hand and looked at the smudges there. She licked her right palm.

“One day, you will do it to me.” Aylin smiled. She knew that if he violated her, it would be death for them, impaled on the stakes.

Radu nodded and then tightened his sash. His relationship with Aylin was not in his mind before. He was to be alone, and upon his death, he will be alone. It was during one session of self-loathing then when he was left behind by his father. He was arguing with Vlad.

“Tata left us here. He will not return for us. Never again.” Radu had confronted his brother. “Why?”

“Tata had no choice. He was to serve the Sultan, and the condition set was for us to remain here as guests.” Vlad lowered his head. He was the elder one and needed to put on the brave front for his brother.

“Tata will be back.” Vlad looked at Radu.

“You lied, Vlad. Tata will not come back.” Radu burst out in tears. Vlad approached his brother, but Radu was inconsolable.

“Let me talk to him.” It was the handmaiden that Vlad saw at the palace. The young lady sat by Radu and held out her right hand onto his left shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” Radu had shouted. “I do not need any … love.”

“None will be given if you are not accepting it.” The handmaiden said. “I am Aylin. I am the handmaiden of the Sultana. I would like to sing to you.”

Drama köprüsü bre hasan dardır geçilmez

Soğuktur suları hasan bir tas içilmez.

Anadan geçilir, bre Hasan yardan geçilmez.

At martini de bre hasan dağlar inlesin

Drama mahpusunda bre hasan dostlar dinlesin

 

Translated into English

 

The drama bridge is narrow and can't be passed through, buddy Hasan.

Its water is cold; it can't be drunk, just a bowl. Hassan

You can give up mother but not wife, buddy Hasan.

Let mountains moan by shooting a martini gun, Hasan.

Let friends listen to this moaning in drama jail, buddy Hassan.

 

(https://lyricstranslate.com/en/drama-t%C3%BCrk%C3%BCs%C3%BC-drama-folk-song.html).

That was the first time since Radu arrived at the palace that he cried out his fear. When he was in fear, he looked for his mother, who would sing to him.

“I do not want to be here. I want to go back to my mama.” Radu burst out in tears. The handmaiden held the boy’s head to hers, and she let him sob. It was their first meet, and over the years, the handmaiden became a friend to the brothers. She told them her name, but she was never to tell them of her origin.

She was a sister to them, older by age, but soon she felt like the younger one, for they grew well and shadowed her in height. She found herself closer to Radu, who was more open to affection than Vlad.

It was affection, and soon to be more.

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 12

 

12.

Doctor Mitchell stood at the corner at the alley, watching the house across the street. He was not a voyeur but waiting for someone. It was past dusk, and the cold air was getting at his bones, the ailment of the aged. He pulled the overcoat tighter and watched while grabbing the pencil from the pocket. He had the pencil in his right hand to write down his observation on all his patients. He pockets the diary while he twirls the pencil with his fingers. It was his idle habit then. He was keen to see if the occupant of the house would exit.

The person did.

It was a lady dressed in the dark dress and bonnet with the small bag. She walked the street in the opposite direction from the doctor. He watched her take the stroll, and then he crossed over. He approached the house and rang the doorknob.

“Doctor Mitchell, I am most surprised. I was planning to see you tomorrow.” Mrs. Hudson was the one who greeted him at the doorway. She was a pleasant lady in her sixties and needed some ointments for her heart.

“I was in the neighbourhood and brought you your medicine.” Doctor Mitchell smiled. “May I come in please? It is cold.”

“My apologies, Doctor. Please do come in.” Mrs. Hudson stepped aside for the doctor.

“You can join me for an early supper. I have some servings left from dinner. My guest did not eat any. My board covers meals, but I cannot tell them what they had missed then.”

“Most delightful, Mrs. Hudson.” Doctor Mitchell walked to the dining area. He handed over the medicine while supper was served. It included the glass of wine, welcomed by the doctor. He began the conversation enquiring on the health of the lady, and she was ever glad to be alive.

“I feel better. The fees from the board helped with my needs.” It was a surprise that Mrs, Hudson had taken in a guest, when she was living all alone for some years, since moving there from the city.

“How is your guest? What is her name, please? I am getting poor at remembering.”

“Katherine something. She is foreign.” Mrs. Hudson laughed. “Me too on my memory.”

“I can assure you that it’s a part of getting old.”

“Senile, you mean.” Mrs. Hudson laughed. “Frank used to tell me I was ever forgetful. He is my husband, Doctor Mitchell, if you have forgotten.”

“Yes, dearie, I remembered.” Once Mrs. Hudson told the doctor that she misses her husband; he is dead and rotted in his grave. She would not think of having any others with her ever since. The doctor had assured her that despite his single entity, he was past the need to have anyone in his life. That settled their needs for closer companionship, but they remained fine as doctor and patient.

“How is Stephanie?” Doctor Mitchell asked.

“You mean Katherine. That is her name.”

“Pardon me. My slip-up. Please do tell.”

“Doctor Mitchell, you are devious. You are looking to get her a patient. I know she is elderly, but she looks strong. And healthy, but on some occasions, she may be pale.”

“Pale?” Doctor Mitchell frowned, his expression like any concerned physician. “I must ...”

“Most times, after the evening stroll, she will come back pale-stricken, and I will offer her a wine, but she will decline. She will rest in her room till late morning.”

“I …... Perhaps you could bring her to church on Sunday. I could then approach her.” Doctor Mitchell was also the priest, among other things that he does there.

“I doubt she will go. She is … If I could say, orthodox in her beliefs. She shunned the book when I left it at the table after mass. She will not look at the cross I hung over the fireplace.”

“Most intriguing.” Doctor Mitchell smiled. “I must go. It is getting dark. And the …”

Yes, I heard. The missing girls. How many were there?”

“Three, as of two nights ago. The parents are told to keep their children home after dusk. It could be…”

“Witchcraft, I am telling you. I have heard of it before. They have their gatherings in the forest.”

“Please do not alarm yourself. It is not healthy for your heart.” Doctor Mitchell soothed her concerns.

“Yes, my heart.” Mrs. Hudson took the doctor’s right hand and placed it over her bosom. “It beats.”

“Yes, it does.” Doctor Mitchell stood up and laid a peck on the forehead of the lady. “I must go now. And thank you for the supper.”

“As you wished.” Mrs. Hudson smiled. ‘The Lord is with you.”

“Amen.” Doctor Mitchell made his way out. He walked back to the church, where he also operates the clinic. He met Constable Brown on patrol that day, pushing the bicycle. He had on his dark overcoat and the top hat with the emblem of the authority.

“Good evening, Doctor. Busy day?”

“Yes, Constable. I had to deliver some medicine. How is your day?”

“Quiet. if you ignore Dawson telling me to find Daisy. She was missing from the barn. As like before, I found her near the creek, with the bites on her.”

“Disturbing.” Daisy is the cow that Dawson milked from daily. For the last month, she was missing from the barn on some mornings.

“Disturbing is when you have Henry trying to get his satisfaction with the sheep.”

“Yes, that was some time back. I had him read the book for days, and I think he has repented.” Doctor Mitchell sighed. The village was leaning to the macabre of late.

“That boy is sick. I told Sven, but the old man was protective of the boy. He is not of his, but loved him well.” Constable Brown turned his bicycle around to follow the doctor. He reckoned the other end of the village would do fine without him that evening.

“I heard that you did some praying for the Masons. Their daughter was …”

“Disturbed, Brown. Disturbed.” Doctor Mitchell said. He was the one they called on for exorcism. And the villagers are rife with anything to spread the words on. “Actually, she was delusional due to her fever. I administered some medicine and got her well.”

“I was told that she will go into those conversations with the demons at times.”

“Convulsion was the effect of late treatment, but there may be a cure soon.” During that period, treatments for convulsions (epilepsy) were largely ineffective and often focused on managing symptoms with things like bloodletting, purging, and a strict diet, with some practitioners even resorting to spiritual or superstitious practices due to the lack of understanding about the condition; the most significant medical advancement during this time was the introduction of bromide salts as a potential anticonvulsant medication, although its use was still limited and not widely accepted. 

Doctor Mitchell gave her the ether to sedate her when she was into it. It was the best method he could think of.

“Marthe Mason is thinking of sending the girl to a convent for her healing. Do you know of any?”

“I have none. She could try the... I will talk to the family. God has his ways to cure the ailment.” Doctor Mitchell then nodded to the constable at the turning to his church. They parted there, and the doctor made his way along the track there, marked with the gravel trodden on every Sunday.

“Doctor Mitchell.” The doctor heard his name called, but he saw no one. It was a lady’s voice.

“Beware of what you want to do. Your mortality may be ending.”

Doctor Mitchell dropped his medical bag and reached for the cross on his vest. He could not find it. He remembered that it was in the bag. He leaned down to reach for it when he found him pushed from the rear. He fell onto his face and was pressed hard at the gravel pebbles.

“End it, or we will end it for you.” Doctor Michell felt the pain in his spine. “I am not telling you a second time.”

“Away, you demon!’ Doctor Mitchell heard the cry behind him. He could not move because his spine hurts. He felt a set of hands on his shoulder.

“No, do not move me. I am hurt at the spine.” Doctor Mitchell cried out. He feared if he was moved, he might hurt his spine and worse, be paralyzed.

“Are you fine, Doctor? I am Spielsdorf, Rudolf Spielsdorf. I did not meet you, but the Frankenstein told me of you.”

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 11

 

11.

Victor went back to work. He began his work on the blood. It was the missing factor in his creation.

Blood was the body fluid that carries oxygen and nutrients to the body's cells and removes waste products.  It is made up of red blood cells, white blood cells, platelets, and plasma. After death, blood settles in the lowest parts of the body due to gravity.  This is called livor mortis, or post-mortem lividity. The person dies, the circulation comes to a halt, and the blood starts moving towards the dependent regions of the body due to gravity.

Pallor mortis occurs because blood stops moving through the capillaries, the smallest of the body’s blood vessels. Among the living things in the human body are bacteria. While the body is alive, the bacteria are concentrated in the gut but are mostly kept out of other internal organs by the immune system. It was an effective wall that stood the ages.

After death, though, these bacteria were able to invade the whole body. The first attack was on the intestines and nearby tissue. It soon spread, entering the capillaries and making its way into the heart and brain to feast. Those two organs were dead and were due to die. The breakdown of carbohydrates, proteins, and other compounds in the body, caused largely by bacteria and by insect larvae, produces gases that swell the abdomen and eventually break the skin, which draws other insects to the feast.

The alternative was to do the process of embalming. A wide variety of substances, including vinegar, wine, brandy, and honey, have been used to “pickle” corpses and thus delay putrefaction. In the modern procedure of embalming, blood is drained from the veins, and another fluid, usually based on a solution of formaldehyde in water, is injected into a major artery.

Cavity fluid is also removed and replaced with a preservative. Though this version of embalming is not permanent, it serves its purpose—giving the body a lifelike appearance in the days after death when it will be viewed by mourners.

It does not replace life. It was what baffled Victor. The living tissue relied on blood to survive, and yet when it was introduced back, the tissue rejected it.

“What did I not see?” Victor was pressured to find the cause. He was obsessed with the blood as the final catalyst to the restoration. He looked at the cold chamber. He had looked at it many times, but never once had he studied it. It was designed by an engineer who was creating then cold chambers. He wanted his huge with the racks and the temperature colder. It was done to specifications, but it required a generator there.

“How cold? Victor was asked.

“Like ice all year round.” It was done.

But it did not work. He slapped his hands against the cold chamber wall. The impact caused his hand to bleed, and he stood there watching it.

It was fresh blood.

It was his blood.

The elixir of my life.

Victor opened the chamber door and approached his creation. He looked at it and then reached for the mouth.

“Drink it up, you monster.” Victor squeezed his palms. The blood seeped out and dripped into the mouth. “Feed on me.”

It could not. The blood seeped out at the side of the mouth.

“Bastard!” Victor picked up the scalpel at the table and slashed at the face and then its torso. He slashed the cold cadaver, but no blood was seen. He fell forth onto the dead cadaver with grief.

“It may be over.” Victor sighed. “I have failed.”

“Master Victor, what did you do?” It was Henry who rushed in. “You are bleeding.”

“I have failed, Henry. The … creation will not come alive.” Victor bemoaned his pain. “I have failed. Toss it away. Feed the wolves or what is out there.”

Henry took to his task while Victor retired to the other section of the lab. He heard the heaving of the parts and the chops. Henry was walking out with the parts on the table. He pushed the table to the nearby furnace and set the parts there.

“Master Victor, look.” Henry called out. “There is blood.”

Victor rushed over towards Henry. It was the female head brought in by Silvus. There was blood congealed there at the neck. He then asked Henry for the torso. The body part was shown to him. He made an incision at the left ribs, and there were traces of blood.

“It may work.” Victor pushed the table back into the cold chamber. “Bring me the head and torso. Place them here.” ‘ That was done, and Victor went to work on exchanging the parts. It was another painstaking work, but he managed it.

“Now we …. Study it. Warm up the body.” Victor thought hard. He grabbed the electrical nodes and attached them to the body. He turned the dial on the power to the lowest and watched the currents flow through.

“Master, may it work?” Henry asked.

“I am not sure, but in the Uni, we once made a mouse come alive when we let electricity flow through it for one day. It may work here.”

“But Master. Are you sure you want to create a woman? They are a pest among the living.”

“Henry, this is science. We cannot be ... selective in our making.”

Selection of the survival was determined by the will to survive. The selected will then thrive, but it was still a decision to consider on the final ones.

Carmilla takes the walk at dusk, when the sunlight does not hurt her skin. She does not join the host at dinner, and the meals were brought to her chamber there daily. She wore the overcoat when she left the mansion but will discard it when she is a distance from the view of the mansion. She will make her walk to the creek and then back to the grounds of the estate. Along her walk, she will see the lab that Victor built. She was drawn to it and will stare at it. That evening, she saw Victor and Henry were seen leaving the lab. She stood there in the dark dress, with the overcoat on her arms. Once the two had walked past the corner. Carmilla approached the lab.

The lock was not a hindrance to her. She had it unlocked with a touch of her hands.

It was her second visit there.

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 10

 

10.

The procedure where amputated body parts are reattached to the body was unknown then. It was not like mending a bone. To do one such intricate surgery, the surgeons often repair injured bony structures as well as tendons, blood vessels, nerves, and skin. That was difficult by itself, with all the connectivity to do, but to animate it in the next stage requires the restoration of blood supply to the amputated part. If that could be done, the final approach was to return the amputated limb to its original appearance and location and restore functional activity. If all that was done, the last stage to resolve was the immune system of the person; the part restored could be rejected when the transplanted tissue was perceived as foreign.

The above was the textbook reading.

In the case of where Victor was approaching, it was a complete amputation, the removal of all structures (including the bone), unlike a partial amputation; if the distal part of the limb is sufficiently supplied with blood, blood vessels do not need to be reattached. The blood is necessary to reattach the vessels, or revascularization as medically termed. It was still under study, and if ever performed, it was deemed revolutionary.

The closing part of the works was the skin closure of some kind. This was done by suturing, as opposed to staples or surgical glues. The closure is a means of primary repair of skin and deeper layers (the subcutaneous tissue, fascia, etc.) to promote wound healing. Ancient medical history has evidence of that done with eyed needles, sometimes made of bone, passing a suture through wounds. The suture materials were crude and may include hemp, flax, hair, linen, pig bristles, grass, reeds, and other plants. The material carried through the ages was silk or catgut, made from the twisted intestines of sheep or horses to suture severed tendons.

Then came the revolutionary findings of surgeon Sir Joseph Lister, who helped introduce the concept of antiseptic surgery. The surgeon directed the use of carbolic acid spray as the antiseptic for surgical operations, circa 1865.

It worked. Lives were saved.

Victor sighed. He was trying to restore life from dead body parts. He looked at the body that he had created, the form from the head to the toes. It lacked hair, for those were removed during the medical examination, but his creation was unmoving.

It was still dead.

The jointed parts, painstakingly selected to match the joint parts, were lacerated with sutures, and there were gaps in the wounds. He had tried to go skin grafting. The most current findings then were the ‘pinch graft’ harvested epidermal small bits from the arm of the patient and fixed them into the middle of the wound with a diachylon bandage. Another process was tested then by another surgeon named Georg David Pollock, who transplanted two small pieces from the abdomen to the middle of the lower part of the defect. And subsequently, a second series was transplanted into the wound. The grafts grew well and divided the defect into two parts. More grafts were done, and it was a success.

His grafting did not heal.

“Dead!” Victor cried out. The years of research and work yield no result.

“And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.” Daniel 12:2 ESV.

Victor was devastated with his works.

“Maybe it was best to lay to rest the dead than to resurrect them.” Victor groaned in pain. He had questioned his action. Why was the work there? He could have done much research that was worthwhile or rewarding.

“Rest now, Victor.” The comforting hand on the other’s shoulder was warm and comforting. Suddenly, Victor grabbed the hand and pushed it on the table with his right hand. He had in his left hand the scalpel that made the incision. He held up the scalpel over the wrist of the hand held there.

“Victor, it is me. Do not do it!” The voice pleaded. “It …”

“It is a live part. It holds blood and all the connectivity to …” Victor sighed. “I have never worked on a live specimen. Only the dead.”

“Victor, please. It is me, Justine. I cannot …” Justine looked at her hand held down by Victor with the scalpel just above the flesh.

“You have two hands. You could do without one.” Victor called out. “I may have the answer and restore your hand.”

“Please do not. I am …” Justine could not visualize the loss of her hand. “I need it.”

“Why? Why? Tell me why.” Victor jabbed the scalpel onto the tabletop. He then released his hold on Justine’s hand. She pulled away and stepped back. She nursed her wrist, which had then recovered Carmilla’s grip. She saw the dejection in Victor. She stepped forth and cuddled him with her arms over his. He went limp in her arms, and then tears fell from his eyes.

“I wanted to be different. I wanted to be Victor Frankenstein, the extraordinaire. I want to …”

“Hush, Victor. You are. Nothing great can be rushed.” Justine's lips sought the man’s head, and she kissed him as if any loving mother would comfort her own child.

“I am …” Victor released his tears. “I am a failure.”

“No, you are not. You are a genius. You need time and … more time to figure it out. It will work.” Justine held him tighter. “I believe in you.”

“Whoop! Am I at the wrong time?” The voice of William resonated behind the couple. Victor pulled away and turned towards the other.

“Get out and stay away. This is my lab.” Victor called out. “I did not ...”

“Hey, the door was unlocked, and I am with a guest.” William stepped aside to show the guest. “Carmilla, please meet my eccentric brother, Victor. She said, I believed you met before.”

“Hello.” Carmilla greeted Victor. The latter wiped his tears and then said.

“Hello, I am Victor. William, you may leave now.” Victor was rude and unaccommodating then. “This is my lab.”

“Wow! Is that what you have been doing here?” William approached the table with the reconstructed body lying there. “What are you doing?”

“William, leave now.” Justine cut in.

“And you were helping him. What will it be? My new … no, my nephew. I could see that thing there. A wee bit small.”

“William, get out. I am busy and would like to get back to work.” Victor snapped out.

“Obviously, I saw you and her.” William laughed. “I knew it. It was a matter of …”

“William Frankenstein, my relationship with Victor is strictly … professional.’ Justin in turn snapped at the brother. “And why are you bringing her here?”

Carmilla glared at Justine.

“Well, she did not join us for our meals, and I was told she may be bored. So, I took her around the mansion. Huge place we have. I have never been to some of the chambers before.”

“Leave Mother’s chamber alone.” It was one rule in the mansion: no one goes into the chamber after her death. The father does not go there. Sven held the key to it.

“I did not. I also did not go to Ernest’s torture chamber. Nor yours… Well, it was not to be, but we happened to walk by, and the door was unlocked.” William turned towards Carmilla. “We will leave them to their … whatever. Let me show my collection of serpents.”

“Leave now!” Victor called out. William took hold of Carmilla’s hand, and it was then that Carmilla looked at Justine.

“I will be visiting you soon.” Carmilla looked at Justine. The latter felt a whiff of coldness on her wrists. She watched Carmilla leave the chamber before she rushed over to lock the door.

“Damn my carelessness. We must move the parts into the cold room, or they will decay.” Victor was all works then.

Justine assisted the other in pushing the table with the wheels attached towards the cold room. The whiff of the sterilized chamber assaulted the scent of the lady. She rushed out soon after the table was pushed in. Victor closed the chamber door and approached her.

“Are you okay?” Victor held out his right hand, but she nudged it away. She felt the same feelings when her wrist was to be cut then. Justine then moved to the coat rack and retrieved her’ own.

“I best be going. I am already late for my next appointment.”

“Justine, what …? I want to say thank you.”

“What are friends for? We stand up for each other.” Justine took her leave of the lab. Victor locked it after her leaving. He looked at the lab-created. It was laborious, and one day. Justine knew of it. How was she to know? He was unsure, but she asked him about the works. He was reluctant to tell her, but he had questions for her. Eventually, he caved in and told her. She did not discredit him but gave him her support. She assisted him in the testing and even got the notes that he wanted. It was all work and no play for them.

Victor thought it was then.

“Maybe I am wrong.” Victor sighed. He had regarded Justine as his aide, and not his partner. He felt then the warmth of her body over him at the table. They have never held hands but the occasional handshake on some breakthroughs. She was hardly at the dining table; she preferred to eat out and only return for the board. She offered to pay for her board, but it was refused by Father. Instead, she brought food to the kitchen for them to cook. It was all smooth sailing until that day.

“No…” Victor shook his head. He must focus on his work. The holiday was almost over.

The shock was not over yet.

“Justine, I am sure we can work out some other arrangement.” Victor stood outside the chamber of Justine. She was packing her items to move out.

“I can get William to apologize to you. He was mistaken about us.” There were rumors among the maids that Victor was involved with Justine then even before the event. Elizabeth was not around to say goodbye, for she was away with her aunt on a trip overseas. William was going to show up, citing he does not care.

“I could speak to Father …” Victor was cut off.

“I had spoken to Uncle.” Justine had called the host by the family relation rank. “He had given me his blessing.”

“I am sure he was ……”

“Victor, when I told you yesterday, I was having an appointment, I meant an associate from the Uni who offered me a fresh research fund to continue my work. I accepted it, but the new grant required me to be housed in the uni. I have found a new board there.”

“We could …”

“No more excuses. I will be fine. The new term starts soon.” With that, Justine moved out of the mansion.

 

 

 

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 9

 

9.

Not much was spoken of Ernest, for he was always in his chamber and engrossed with the volume. It was a huge chamber that served as his bedchamber, with comfortable bedding, but the huge part of it was the shelves with the volumes. He had spent most of his time studying law on the appearance of it, but his other interest was in dark arts. With his disability, he felt the need to find a cure for his ailment. It may not be by the medical knowledge of William or Victor but the unexplored knowledge of the dark arts. He had read of the miracles among the myths and focused his research there.

But there are other needs.

“Master Ernest, are you ready?” Maple appeared at the chamber. She carried with her the bowl of water with the towel. She was dressed like any other, in the working frock that was assigned to the maids at the mansion.

“Yes, I am.” Ernest replied. “Please proceed.”

Ernest hobbled from the desk with his crutches to the designated area. He was not able to do much besides the reading and the regular trip to the dining hall. He stood there and awaited the maid to attend to him. Maple had locked the chamber door to ensure his privacy. Maple was his choice among the others, for she was young, gentle, and above all, pretty by his view. She also was quiet and did not argue with him.

Maple set the bowl on the small high table there before she placed the towel inside. She had with her the needed items for the task: the soap, powder, and perfumes. There was his fresh change of clothing.

It was his bathtime.

Ernest stripped off his clothes and stood there in his birth glory.

“Master Ernest, may I?” Maple asked. The young man nodded to her. He felt the cloth that was strung across his mouth. The cloth was pulled taut before it was tied by the maid. He felt the tap on his left shoulder and leaned forth towards the table. He gripped the sides of the table and spread his legs.

The spanking began then, on his buttocks; ever lightly, and then it became heavier and more intense. Ernest gripped the table side upon every blow. He screamed in his voice, but the sound was stifled by the cloth. He held hard onto his pain, and then it all came out.

Ernest slumped forward onto the table, and the spanking stopped. He was done. The cloth was removed from his mouth, and he breathed through the mouth in huge gulps.

“Master Ernest, let me wash you now.” Maple took the wet towel and slowly soothed the man across his back. She reached with the towel at the sore buttocks, and with gentle dabs, she cleaned him there. She slowly moved him around and washed the front of his body. She reached down and cleaned his privates, removing the seminal fluids there.

“Master, was it good?”

“Yes, the inside of me is expunged.” Ernest nodded. He felt better after the release. She applied it to the buttocks to ease the pain.

“Thank you, Maple. You may clean up and then go.” All was done, and Ernest got dressed again in the new set of clothes. He was clean, cleansed, and ready to renew his studies. Maple had then collected the soiled clothes and proceeded to leave.

“Your coins are there.” Ernest motioned to the box by the doorway. “Take what you need.”

“Yes, master.” Maple opened the box and took what was her due. Ernest was back at the desk. His buttock ached, and he did not sit on it. He stood there and watched the closing of the door. He then looked at the picture of his mother. She was seated there looking bored. She was most of the time, but not for Ernest. He was fond of her and grabbed at every opportunity to be with his mother.

Ernes had his excuses and sought out his mother.

“Ernest, you need to stop yourself.” Mother had spoken. “You are a grown boy. I cannot spank you anymore.”

“I am sorry, Mother. I will try.” Ernest got off his mother’s lap and then removed his pants. His mother blushed and looked at his face.

“Darling, you cannot just remove your pants now. You are a grown boy. You need to do it in your chamber.”

“I am sorry, Mother. I cannot help it. I want to hear.” Ernest looked at his naked lower half. “It feels nice when you are watching me. When you are doing it… The pain makes me happier.”

“Little monster.” The mother had called him. “You are always in trouble. I had to punish you.”

“I am not. I am as huge as Victor.” Ernest defended himself.

“Is that so? I have not seen Victor or even William. But I am sure you are all monsters.”

“Mother, what can I do when you are not around?” Ernest asked. “You could be away, traveling, or…died. Who is going to punish me?”

“We all will die one day. When I am, you will have to find your own monster cure. I would not be around.”

So it was, Ernest found his way around.

His monster was taken care of.

Spanking was one of the ways. He had read of it from the volumes. Sexual release through spanking worked for him. He felt better inside. He could function better.

At that moment, the guest of the host was taking his leave.

“Общий. I must leave now. I have a request to ask.”

“Spielsdorf, say no more. Lauren will be fine with us.”

“Rudolf was what we agreed on.” The other laughed. “It will take some time for me to call you Alf in your face.”

“And myself too. We have been too long in the ranks, and it will take us time to know each other out of it.” The host smiled. “Go with your business.”

Spielsdorf took his leave, and then another person left the mansion from the rear exit. The elderly had overstayed her welcome, but the good doctor had forbidden Carmilla to leave just then. The elderly lady was given a mule to ride on, and her slow pace soon distanced the upfront officer who was using the carriage. Their route was the same.

Carmilla stood by the window, peeking through the drapes at the departing lady. She avoided sunlight and stood a distance back. She was expressionless, but her heart betrayed her. It hurt to be away from her mother, but she felt the calling was there at the mansion. It was all planned by her with the accident and the doctor. She was in the house and could seek out her calling.

“Lauren….” Carmilla whispered.

 

 

 

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 8

 

8

“Rudolf Spielsdorf, it had been a long time since we met.” The Общий greeted the old friend at the library. “You looked very much like when I left you at the regiment.”

“It has been a long time, Общий.” Spielsdorf snapped to attention before the senior officer he once served. “I have been given a good regiment and better men who were shaped by you. I merely continue the works.”

“And I was told, you did. When did you retire?” The two officers squared off against each other. Spielsdorf was taller and slim and had dressed in the tweeds that fitted him like his uniform.

“It was over ten years now, but the situation at home needed fixing.” The guest reported. He then stepped aside to introduce his daughter.

“Lauren Bertha Spielsdorf. My daughter.” The officer led his daughter to meet the host. “She is …”

“I was informed.” The host nodded. Lauren was afflicted by a disease that robbed her of sight. What she could make out were blurred images. It was said to be an accident, which also took the life of her mother.

“My condolences for Lissa Bertha.” The host bowed to the other. “She was a fine lady and devoted wife to you.”

“Yes, and thank you. It had been such a long time since her passing. She used to talk to me about you and Annabelle. I heard of Annabelle too.”

“Both our wives are looking at us now; two old men standing when we should be seated.’ The host led his guest to the fireplace. Lauren was led by the maid in attendance to the seat on the side.

“I always admired your portrait.” Spielsdorf looked at the frame above the fireplace. “You looked grand in it.”

“I was, and now all that reminded me of then was this and, of course, yourself. Was there no portrait of you done?”

“None. I did not want one. I had a picture of me with Lissa, but it was so strenuous to remain still for a long time.” Portrait photographs then required subjects to sit motionless for exposures often lasting twenty to sixty seconds.” We agreed not to do it again.”

“Ha! I remembered then. You had the photo stashed away.” The host laughed.

“Yes, my remembrance of Lissa remained in my memory.” Spielsdorf laughed in return. “She was a splendid lady.”

“I know.” The host smiled. Lissa Spielsdorf was the perfect wife for the military man. She was ever supportive and never once stopped her man from going to battle. All she ever asked was for him to return from it. Sadly, she died in an unexpected way, as related then.

“She should not have taken to the road that night. She insisted because I was in the infirmary; for heaven’s sake, it was a wound. The surgeons were insistent I stay there, and my family was informed.”

“It was the regiment’s call, Spielsdorf.”

“I know, but many of my officers… our officers, Общий… had worse, and their families were not informed until much later.”

“True, but you are the Общий.” The host smiled.

“Acting Общий then. It was fated. She was traveling with Lauren, then only ten, and with her concern for me, she was unescorted. The carriage was hit by another, as they claimed, and she died.” The word of death to the two senior officers was casual for they have seen many of it.

“I mourn her death as it was with every officer who had served with me.” The host sighed. “Tragic, but it was then.”

“Yes, but the rumours then…... were unflattering.” Spielsdorf looked to his daughter.

“Father, may I be excused? I need to go to the powder chamber.” Lauren had stood up then. The maid in attendance stepped up to the lady. Spielsdorf nodded, and the maid took the hand of the lady to lead her away. They were out of the door when Spielsdorf continued.

“The rumors hurt her hard.” Spielsdorf sighed. “I do not know what was to trigger it then.”

“I heard of it even from here.” The host sighed. “It is sad. They are monsters to accuse you. And her.”

“Yes, Lissa had nothing to do with dark arts or whatever else it was. She was a good wife. They said that she dabbled in that art, and the witches took their toll on her and … Lauren.”

“Spielsdorf… ease your pain. Please rest here.”

“No, I must talk, or I will go mad. They link her to the Countess Mircalla Karnstein. They were related, but she was a distant relative, and they had never met. The countess had died a hundred years ago. She was last seen walking by herself to the forest and was never seen ever again. They found her left shoe.”

“Spielsdorf, it was a long time. I was there with you but that is over. In our career, we have encountered many things. If you recall, once we hunted werewolves, but it all turned out to be wild dogs. Or the wild men, who were scavengers who were demented in their behavior. We are experienced in the works of the mind. What was a monster? Were living creatures like other men or women?”

“We were called monsters by many.” Spielsdorf sighed. “We were then. The many we killed. They were…”

“They were not all innocent. There was someone who was killing our people. Those who were … innocents were … collateral damage. It was to be seen.”

“True, Общий. We had seen it all.”

“Call me by my name, please. I am not your Общий anymore.” The host smiled. “We are among friends now. No more regiment.”

“Yes, Alphonse. Please call me Rudolf.”

“No, I much prefer you as Red.” Red was Rudolf's nickname then, from Rudolf the Reindeer. “Just call me Alf.”

“That was your name then at the mess hall when you were not around. It was Alf here and Alf there, like the barking of the dog.”

Both men laughed.

Across the corridors to the East Wing, there was concern displayed.

“Carmilla looks fine.” Doctor Mitchell approached the elderly lady who was traveling with her. “Her bruises are healed. Surprise to me for the maids mentioning deep gashes…”

“They could be exaggerating.” The elderly lady smiled. “Carmilla has been a strong girl.”

“She is.” Doctor Mitchell turned to look at the patient of his. “She looks fine to me. How may I address you, ma’am?”

“Stephanie, Stephanie … Karnstein. We were just traveling through.” The elderly lady smiled.

“Karnstein? Like Frankenstein, huh? Old country folks, and truly a coincidence to meet the two of you here.”

“Coincidence? Perhaps, but we do not know the... Frankenstein. We are traveling north… to see a friend there. We had an accident and the staff here assisted us.”

“Most unfortunate to have the accident, but you are fortunate to be near here. The Frankensteins have a huge mansion with lots of chambers, but they are on the quiet side on the social circle. Alphonse remains a recluse, but his sons, William, and Victor… well, they are better.”

“We will be moving on soon, Doctor.” The elderly lady smiled. “Carmilla will be fine to…”

“No, Carmilla shall stay in rest for a while. She looked frail, and there are some tests I want to do to make sure she can travel. I will put in the good word to Sven.”

“But, Doctor. We need to be on the road.”

“Soon, my dear. Soon after, Carmilla is recovered.” Doctor Mitchell then stepped out of the chamber. Lady Karnstein approached Carmilla at the bedding.

“We need to …”

“No, Stephanie. I am fine here. I can feel there is something here I may need.” Carmilla addressed the other. “You may proceed on while I stay on. Go to the village and prepare the needed.”

“Yes, Countess. I will obey.” The elderly lady stepped away. She then turned to look at Carmilla.

“You must ….”

“I will be careful. You too. Speak to no one of me. Just send me the messages when it is needed.”