Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 35

 

35.

It was dark when Ernest approached the lab and saw it locked. He had carried the favorite volumes of his in the case, and it was difficult to drag it across the ground, holding one crutch and dragging the case with the other.

“Can I help, Master Ernest?” It was Maple. She had stepped out to the outhouse at that hour and saw the young master struggling with the case. She had approached him, dressed in the nightgown.

“I… yes, please.” Ernest nodded. “Pull it to the lab.”

Ernest had not called on her since he took her to the chamber. She had resumed serving the meals and even washed him, but he had declined the spanking. He was past it. Maple pulled the case with the young master following. He looked at the lady pulling and found himself aroused. He had violated her that day, for he needed the blood of the lady with his seeds to call on the demon. It was stated on the pages of the volume he was studying. It had worked then.

And it rippled to the predicament then.

Ernest looked at the lock there. It was a heavy lock, and he did not have the key. He remembered the revolver that was in his jacket pocket. He was told that the bullet was able to break the lock, but he was unsure of how to shoot at it.

“May I, Master? I can shoot it.” Maple reached for the revolver. She had seen his confusion on what to do with the lock. She had learned how to shoot the gun from her father, who told her that one day it would be useful.

The lock was broken, and the noise of the shot reverberated across the mansion land.

“Oops,” Maple smiled. “Silly of me.”

Ernest pushed his way past her and opened the door. He went into the lab. It was his first time being there. It looked like any other lab he had seen, but the place was colder. He looked around and saw the closed chambers. Maple had then dragged the case in.

“Where shall I put it, Master?’ Maple asked," He looked at the maid and saw her hair was in disarray and the gown was partially open at the front, exposing the flannel gown she wore to sleep.

“Oops, pardon me.” Maple grabbed the hem of the gown to cover her nightdress. “Where shall I put it? The case?”

Ernest motioned to the side of the chamber. He saw nothing there that could repel the demon; no crucifixes or demon-slaying equipment, only an array of testing tools. There were the rows of cabinets assembled from oak wood. He felt the colder draft of air and turned to close the door.

“Hello, Ernest Frankenstein. Are you avoiding me?” It was the demon standing behind the closed door.

“Allow me.” The demon got the door locked from inside.

Privacy calls for the locks. It was what Victor did when he invited Elizabeth to his personal chamber. It was the hour soon after he left the lab to return to the main mansion. He chose the personal chamber, for he was unsure whether Elizabeth was ready to see his lab. She had been there before; Elizabeth was not a stranger to the mansion. There were times she visited Justine there, and they would sneak into William’s or his chamber to surprise them. It was their sisterly prank on the brothers.

“I have not been here …… for a long time.” Elizabeth smiled while she looked at the furnishings. There was the worktable of Victor, his bedding, and the shelves of volumes. A man’s chamber was stark without any character, unlike the lady’s chamber with the flowers and the picture frames of the family.

And the feminine attire.

“Please be seated.” Victor offered her the seat, the only one in the chamber where he plants himself for hours at a time reading there. “Sorry, it is not the most comfortable one.’

“It is okay. I will sit over there.” Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bedding. She pulled the item that was sitting by her. “Oh, you still have the doll I gave you years back.”

“Hello, Dolly.” Elizabeth smiled at the doll she had when younger and gave it to Victor when William refused it. He said it was too girlish for him. Elizabeth names her dolls. Dolly was the name of that one. The girls' dolls were often made with wax or porcelain heads, and their bodies were made of cotton stuffed with wood shavings or other materials.  They typically had glass eyes and wore dresses made of various fabrics, often with intricate details.  They looked like, well, docile imitations of girls, but some said they looked like witches.

“Yes, I am sorry. I had kept it here and there. Never could find a place to store it.”

“Oh, Dolly. Your dress is a mess.” Elizabeth pulled at the torn left shoulder of the dress there. “And your hems are torn.”

“I am sorry. I must admit Dolly was tossed around.” Victor smiled. “She was not exactly mine, but I do treasure her much.”

“It is okay. We all outgrew them.” Elizabeth smiled and then placed Dolly on the pillow. “Sleep there, Dolly.”

“Liz, may I speak to you, please?”

“And you may, dear sir. I am at your disposal.”

“Do you miss William? I meant to say, Do…….” Victor struggled with his words.

“I do.” Elizabeth nodded. “I do miss him.”

“I am so sorry. I was always thinking of him and…… you and…… Justine.” Victor lied then.

“William and Justine are no longer with us, Victor.” Elizabeth swallowed her grief. “They are gone. It is ……”

“You and me. I am aware. I found myself …….” Victor stuttered there. “Justine was a good friend. She shared my works…. My tasks……. My desires to make my creation, but we were never that close……”

“William……,” Elizabeth sighed. “He came onto me, but I was not in …… love with him. I went on the trip to collect my emotions. I do love him as a brother though.”

“Liz, love is …….”

“From a cadaver surgeon to a psychology graduate, I think I am more knowledgeable than you.” Elizabeth laughed. “My reading of Philippe Pinel, a French doctor, and he does get quoted by some as the "father of modern psychiatry." He is most famous for his humane treatment of the mentally ill, as well as his contributions to the diagnosis and treatment of mental disorders.”

“Yes, I read too.” Victor smiled. “He believed that passions, including love, could be a primary cause of mental illness and that understanding the interplay between emotions and reason was crucial for diagnosis and treatment.  He emphasized a humanistic approach, advocating for moral treatment and the importance of patient-practitioner relationships. He had regarded them as his patients and not ‘aliens,’ as marked by others.”

“Love is complicated, Victor. Love…… includes intimacy, passion, and…… commitment.” Elizabeth explained. “William does not have the last part. He was a …….”

“Monster at commitment, I may attribute here. He was always a free soul.” Victor smiled. “He has so many flings in his lifetime that I have cadaver parts.”

“I can …… I agreed. That was why I am not committed to William.” Elizabeth smiled. “I…… find discouragement there.”

“Then who do you think can commit his love to you?” Victor asked. “Henry?”

“Please……” Elizabeth laughed. “He is a nice lad, but he is not …….”

“Your type? Perhaps myself?” Victor drew the short straw there.

If choosing was simpler, then Spielsdorf would have chosen his daughter, but the sight of her laugh and cheerful nature was so much there at the mansion. He was to decide whether to stay or leave with Lauren. He had feared that Lauren was taken in by the witch, but he was also clueless on how to defeat the witch. He had recollection of Lissa, but all of it was tainted by his anger at her. She betrayed him when she told him that she was a witch.

Spielberg had travelled far and wide with his daughter next to him to hunt witches, more specially the one who killed Lissa, and it may be a fruitless pursuit when Lissa is not dead, like a loving mother, but standing guard over the lair of the countess.

Spielberg had inquired from the maids about the other guest in the mansion.

“Yes, that missy was here.” The maids told him. “But she was not seen for some days. She was brought in by an elderly lady and was never seen. They must think we are a tavern to stay over and leave when they like. But in the tavern, you pay your dues. Here, neither of them did.”

Spielberg got the description of the elderly lady, and he shuddered. She was Lady Karnstein, or Katherine to Mrs. Hudson. He then looked at the cane in his left hand. The vampire wanted the cane, and the witches stopped him. What was the blood jewel that they wanted? He knew that the jewel contained the last drop of the witch’s blood, but how could he use it?

“Общий,” it was Sven. “Would you be having breakfast today?”

“Thanks, Sven. But please do not call me Общий. I am……. I was not Общий when you were there. I was only Общий after you left.”

“Общий is also your rank, and in the …… demise of the previous Общий, you are the Общий here.” Sven saluted the ex-officer. Spielberg returns the salute. The regiment lives on in them.

“Общий, there was a gunshot. Did you get awakened by the gunshot then? It was before dawn?” Sven asked. “It could have been the hunters shooting then. I had cautioned them not to shoot at the estate. I saw Master Victor leave the mansion for the lab soon, or was it much later?”

“I was not. Was there a shot?”

“Yes, Общий,” Sven smiled. “Breakfast, Общий? I think Ms. Muriel may join us.”

“Ms. Muriel? Who is she?” Spielsdorf asked.

“Oh, you may not know her by that name. Elizabeth Muriel is her full name. She was with Master William before.” Sven smiled. “Yesterday, she was in Master Victor’s chamber. As the household staff, we do not speculate.”

“Oh…...” Spielberg looked at the man. “We…… I would not …… too.”