Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 16

 

16.

Spielsdorf was seated in the library and questioned by the constable while the host of the Frankenstein was in attendance.

“I can assure you, Constable, that my friend, Spielsdorf, had nothing to do with the death of Doctor Mitchell. They have not met before. More to it…”

“Dear Sir, Mr. Frankenstein. I am just trying to get any information to report to the main authorities. A Chief Constable will be over soon, and he will take over.” Constable Brown was peeved to have such a case in the village. He was already laden with trying to keep tabs on the single ladies in the village with the missing ones unaccounted for. The city promised to send over an officer, but if they are ever good with their advice, the Queen will have visited the village.

“Constable Brown, please accept my apologies, but could Mr. Spielsdorf be allowed to rest? He has some bruises, and with the doctor dead, we are without medical experts.” Mr. Frankenstein cut in. “I will take custody of him and be assured…”

“Mr. Frankenstein, sir. I will be glad to have Mr. Spielsdorf in your care. I am assured that you will always keep him here indoors until other instructions are provided.”

“Of course, Constable.” The host gave the assurance.

Spielsdorf was helped to his chamber. He did stop to visit his daughter before retiring. They were alone to talk.

“Lauren, I am back. How are you?” The father sat by the daughter’s side.

“I can hear you, Father.” Lauren smiled. She looked like her mother there. “How are you?”

“I am fine. Had a little fall, but recovering.”

“Fall? Where did you fall? Were you …?”

“I was not. I had travelled far and asked the needed questions. I found nothing that I can work on.” Spielsdorf sighed. “Those places were where the girls went missing.”

“Can we stop, Father? I want to go home.” Lauren looked to her father.

“Home?” Spielsdorf sighed. Home was where the grief of his love was buried. He had lived on for his daughter and moved to the army camp for security. He had felt none at his previous home; the nights when he guarded his daughter with cats he had adopted. It was claimed that the creature could sense the supernatural beings. He had sentries outside his house all day and night. He had the crosses and garlands of garlic affixed on every entrance from the doors to the windows. What he feared most was the ones who came to the camp seeking him, asking him to renounce his faith.

“Believe in God. Renounce your worship of the devil.” He had them stopped at the gate, but the influence reached his men. The juniors and conscript thought of him as the devil incarnate. He was having trouble depending on them, and eventually he retired. He left for his family home, but the issues plagued him there.

“Lissa is not a witch. She was like all of you: God-loving people.” The man defended the soul of his lover at the church. His words were taken by silence, and he knew even the church did not believe in him. Soon, he was told of the missing girls. He decided to find out the connection, if there was any. He could not leave Lauren alone and brought her with him. They had traveled far, and when Lauren got ill, he treated her, but the last bout was bad. He had to seek his only friend there.

“Father, do you think we will catch the one who killed Mother?” Lauren asked him.

“I do not know, my love, but I will not give up.” The man replied. He had not told the others of the accident that had taken Lissa’s life. Lauren was hurt, but she was awake. She told her father; a lady approached her and placed a hand over her eyes.

“Your sight will be the many retributions of mine, daughter of Spielsdorf.”

Spielsdorf need not know why and what he had done. His only salvation was to find the connection. He took leave of his daughter and proceeded to his chamber. He found the Общий there seated in the chamber. He was holding his cane in his hands.

“Общий, I would like to ……”

“Say no more, my good friend. We need to talk.” The host was into his serious Общий rank. “Was it the past we were to meet?”

Victor Frankenstein was past the concern of his class. He had sent the request for leave. He cited an old injury that had given him pain and requested that Doctor Eugene cover for him in the classes. Victor was troubled by two issues.

Justine.

Victor missed her. Soon after she moved out, he felt alone. It was not like he looked her up when she was in the mansion. He did when he needed some help, but those were at the uni. He double-dated and made the numbers when William asked to go out for a drink with Elizabeth. He had no feelings towards her then, but when she moved out, he felt lonely. He could tell that William was lonely too with Elizabeth away, but he was sure the brother of his would not be of the monk life very soon. He had known William was never short of friends for his libido. Ernest was always in his own world. Victor felt that he hardly knew the youngest. He was seen and hardly heard, but their father has left instructions that he was not to be wronged.

Wrong? Was it wrong to say that Ernest deserved his ailment? He caused the death of their mother.

“Bastard.” Victor cursed.

His other concern was the creation. It came alive suddenly; he doubted the electricity caused it to be ‘alive.’ There were tests done that electricity may have revived the dead; no, it was not those who were dying or immediate death but never one that was made from a cadaver. It was an undisputed fact, but that creation of his was there. Every other hour, it learned something. It had begun to move its head and its limbs and tried to sit up, but it felt no sensation from the pricking on the skin.

Is it alive or reanimated? Or was it a zombie?

The word zombie, Haitian by origin, was said to be a mythological undead entity, created through the reanimation of a corpse. The zombie was reanimated through various methods, most commonly magical practices in religions. Some claimed that it was individuals who have undergone a religious punishment called zombification for committing crimes such as rape or land theft. They are drugged, buried alive, exhumed, and then enslaved.

His creation was not of that, but Victor noted the creation was responsive to his commands. It was like a young child learning their basic acts.

Victor kept the creation in his lab, under lock, and initially it was fed, but it stopped when the food was thrown out by the creation. It was not able to digest the food. The skin grafting was healing, and most of the laceration was missing. He had earlier washed the creation but found it does not emit any smell at all. Nor could it smell any. Among its five senses were only sight and hearing, and yet to discover the voice.

“Master Victor, Ms. Moritz asked to see you.” It was Henry who was allowed into the lab.

“No, tell her I am sick. I cannot see her.” Victor told the other. “Lock the door when you leave.”

Constable Brown was not a relief when he was met by the inspector. The officer from the city arrived by the morning train, glanced at reports, and then hopped onto the afternoon train to go back.

“Constable, continue. I have other pressing cases to handle.” The young Chief Constable by the name of Lestrade waved back. Constable Brown looked at the pile of papers in his hands. He knew that he gave an elaborate report, but he was a constable in a small village of which half was devoid of names, and the other half held names that he could not spell correctly.

The three missing girls were local, and decided to investigate the migrants to the village; the rich and affluent, and those students in the Uni. Maybe they are criminals seeking a hideaway there. He had seen and heard their bawdy songs at the tavern, the way they treated the local ladies; it was putting to shame to the villagers.

And Spielsdorf. That was a foreign name, Prussian or Baltic. Whatever, it was difficult to name and write. Mitchell was a good man, a fierce priest with his fiery sermons, that even the unbelievable would not walk past the cross without asking for forgiveness. Well, Mitchell did correct Henry of his heinous desire.

Henry was an orphan adopted by Sven, another foreigner. He did wonder if Henry was a foreigner too. He knew not much. His father was the constable then, and God bless his soul, he died while on patrol. His bicycle was the father’s.

Well, he was on his way back to the station then; a humble hut converted to be the station. It was his family home, and the father was kind to give it away. His mother had no say in the matter; she was in love with the man and only knew one thing in life, yes darling, it was to everything.

“Fuck you, Inspector.” Constable Brown muttered. He smiled. He will say his penance to God on Sunday. There may not be a priest, but God remained there. It is the Lord’s home. 

And he has many sins to confess there.