Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 45

 

45.

The household staff of the mansion was leaving, and there was nothing that Sven could do to stop them. The kitchen staff was reduced to one lady, Mrs. Beatrice, who professed that she was too scared to be outside. Elaine took her bags and walked out, patting her belly, which everyone attributed to her diet, but her tears were real. She was consoled by the stable hand, John Irving, who had stood in for William and kept the nights busy, missing the part that what was given would be burdened to him. The others who did not stay on had found employment with the other houses.

Sven looked at the empty hall and sighed, “Well, at least we do not have any house guests…… new ones.”

Spielberg and Lauren were leaving soon.

Victor was recovering in his chamber; while there were others confined to the chambers and most of the households were absent, the mansion was silent. The soldiers remained at their posts and were generously served by the new cook, a lady by the name of Hubbard.

It was the same at the village; the hunt was halted, the woodcutters were keeping themselves to the taverns, and they resorted to fishing by the river near the river. They had read in the book, with Matthew 4:19, “Come, follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”  It would have worked, but the river was narrow, and lined up on the village side were the men with their rods; a paltry dinner may be served with the catch.

The families were mourning their departed members at the church, and even Muriel’s home was silent. Their prayers, led by one of the most devoted of the church in the absence of the priest, had one verse repeatedly voiced: “But when I am afraid, I will put my trust in you. I praise God for what he has promised. I trust in God, so why should I be afraid? What can mere mortals do to me?” Psalm 62:8 (NLT).

Some added the phrase monster to replace mortals.

Elizabeth Muriel kept her distance from her aunt, having her own meals alone in the room and never leaving the house. For the last few evenings, she had her conversation with God for guidance. While Anne Muriel kept her own solace that if the niece was to tell her, it would be soon.

“Deliverance is to be mine soon.” Mrs. Muriel ends her waking hours with that last line daily.

Sergeant O’Reilly had his men marching the paths at the village to avoid boredom and to impress the ladies there, but he got not an invite to their homes; their parents were not keen on a Protestant to say grace at supper. It was a conflict that dated back to when King Henry VIII decided to separate the entire country of England from the Roman Catholic Church.  The Pope had no more authority over the people of England; this parting of ways allowed for Protestantism to enter the country.

Well, things changed soon enough, less than a week after the end of the hunt.

“Chief Constable, sir. I got news for the sergeant.” Constable Watson burst into the chamber behind the altar at the church. The former was holding his own prayers that every wire he received from the city was a recall one, but none of it was that. It was more of asking, Was the investigation done?

“Speak up, constable. I am not having any better news of late.” Chief Constable Lestrade sighed. “Probably another concerned father on the sergeant's display of prowess.”

“Sir, the sergeant told me that his regiment is sending over a company of men to assist in the search for the monster.” Constable Watson beamed the smile. “A hundred good soldiers to be led by one Lieutenant Shape, Randolph Sharp.”

“Bloody time to do so.” Chief Constable Lestrade, in turn, beamed a smile. “Make sure there are no Ducos or Hakeswills among them. They are monsters in their own image.” (A borrowed line from Sharpe’s series of quotes.)

“Pardon me, Chief Constable. I do not get you.”

“Bloody runny nose bleeds for you, Son.” The Chief Constable, Lestrade, dismissed the constable. He looked to the ones praying there.

“Closure soon.”

Spielberg and Lauren bid their farewell. Sven offered them the carriage for their journey. He noticed the former holding the bejewelled cane that was once the Общий.

“I am borrowing it, Sven. There is a need for some protection on the road.” Spielberg saw the look on the other. “I also borrowed his revolver.”

“Yes, Общий. It is all in order. I will let Master Victor know of this. He will approve of it too.”

“I am fine with that.” Victor appeared to wish the guest a good trip. He was dressed in the dressing gown. He was in the personal chamber resting.

“Master Victor, you should be resting.” Sven rushed to the side of the surviving Frankenstein member. “I have deferred to the Chief Constable to see you the last few days.”

“I am okay, Sven. I am to say goodbye to …… Mr. Spielsdorf and Lauren.” Victor looked towards the frail lady. “We never met, and now we are saying goodbye.”

“Another day and time, sir.” Lauren said. Spielberg then approached Victor and took him a distance away.

“Victor, you must adhere to the version I told the Chief…….”

“Do not worry, sir. I know what it is to be told.” Victor assured the man. “Please be on your way. I am to go to my lab. I have work to do there.”

“Obviously.” Spielsdorf said, and the younger man walked to the lab. “Sven, take care of the young master.”

“Sir, may I offer you some food for the trip?” It was the new cook. “I had it done this morning. Fresh from the oven.”

The cook handed over the basket containing the meals and some fresh apples.

“Fresh red apples, sir. Good for the lady. An apple a day keeps the …… hunger away.” The cook smiled. “I got a small bottle of rum in there for you too.”

Spielberg thanked the lady. He was then asked where he was headed.

“Up North, northeast to be exact. Long ride ahead.”

“Aye, be careful. The roads are filled with highwaymen and …… But do take care. God with you, Sir, and to the lady.” The cook smiled. “I must be going. I have a pot cooking there.”

Without looking back, Victor had not seen the cook speaking to the guest. He was to unlock the lab door and went inside. The bloodstains were not there. He knew the bodies are in the cold chamber. It was all done by Sven. He approached the worktable covered by his working notes. He was to pack them for the so-called trip with Henry, but he did not. He had carried his revolver then.

“Master, I am back.” Victor heard the voice. He turned towards it. Momentarily, he saw it was Henry.

“Henry? You are dead. I shot you.” Victor uttered it out.

“No, Master. It is I.” Victor, out of his shock, saw then the creation dressed in Henry’s clothes. “I am back.”

“How…… when did you arrive? I locked the door.” Victor looked to the doorway.

“Henry told me of the trapdoor in the basement behind the shelves.” The creation said. “He showed me the place.”

The lab had a basement where Victor kept the unused equipment. Like the old smugglers, they had their secret doorway to escape any raids.

“I came in from there. I stayed in the cold chamber as before.” The creation was explained.

“The forest…… Did you hurt those men?”

“Hurt? I did terminate them. They tried to hurt me. They tried to do to me what Henry said no one was to do. They took my clothes, and I ……... terminated them. Like those small creatures who come to the lab during nighttime.”

They were rodents, and with the creation, that rodent issue was resolved. Henry used to toss the rodents into the furnace when he saw them dead on the flooring.

“Did they…?” Victor was confused.

“Yes, I step on them and remove the hands. Bad hands.” The creation is explained. “Master, where is Henry?”

“I do…… I do not know. I did not see him.”

“Henry walked with you that day. He did not return. I tried to find him.” The creature looked at its master. “I miss Henry.”

“He …… He may return one day.” Victor looked towards his notes. “I have work to do.”

“Where did you get Henry’s clothes?” 

“I took it off him.” The creation said. “He was dead. His body is not moving. It was scarred. I had to bury him.”

“Dead? Did you find Henry? You just said you could not find him.” Victor looked towards the creation.

“I found his body. He was not there. I called, but he did not reply. I took his clothes as they were his.”

“What did you do to the body?”

“I buried him in the ground. He told me when a body dies, the soul leaves it. I was to find his soul and then have it return to his body.” It explained. “His body has holes in it.”

“Where did you bury Henry?”

“At the creek. Under the grass where we slept.” It said to the master. “I only buried his body, not his soul. Henry will return……... I want to see him again. I want to see him back with his body. Not only in my dreams.”

“Do you dream?” Victor asked.

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 44

 

44.

Victor woke up in a state of pain. Both his ribs ached, and there were bruises on his face. He found himself on the divan at the library of the mansion. He looked at the portrait of his Dada, who was frowning at the sight of the son.

“Arghh….” Victor groaned when he tried to sit up. He felt hands upon him and saw it was Sven.

“Are you okay, Master Victor?” Sven asked.

“Sven found you at the creek. You were on the ground.” It was Spielsdorf. “He saw you there.”

“It was those monsters who injured you, Master Victor. I saw two of them there, and one was kicking at your sides. I rushed in and clubbed them on the head. They went down on their faces.”

“Monsters they were!” Sven did not hesitate in his anger. “I told them to scram off or it will be my bayonet into them. They left in a hurry.”

“Sven carried you back here.” Spielberg looked at the younger man. “I had bandaged your wounds. It will hurt for a while, but I doubt you have any broken bones. Perhaps when you can travel, I will get Sven to take you to the next village and get the doctor there to check you.”

“No …… Not required. What about Silvus?” Victor asked.

“Dead, Master Victor. He was dead even before I checked on him. I have seen many dead men before. His head was on the wrong side, and his left arm was removed from his shoulder. He was one dead man then. I have no tears for him. He was a bad man.” Sven looked away. “If I……”

“We will find him soon.” Spielberg assured the concerned guardian. “I am sure Henry is out there and will return.”

“Henry…….” Victor muttered, and Sven rushed to approach him.

“Did you see Henry, Master Victor?”

“I…… I……” Victor struggled to reply. “I went to look for him, but did……. Not seeing him. I was hit in the back, and then I am here.”

“You are lucky, Master Victor. I had not joined the crowd and checked my own. I was past the creek and to the yonder treelines. It was getting late, and I doubled back, and that was when I saw you. I rushed forth and clubbed them. Bess here never likes those who hit a man when he is down.”

“Thank you, Sven.” Victor looked at the devoted servant. He felt a sigh of remorse for what he did to Henry. “Where is Elizabeth?”

“She went home. The maids told me.” Sven replied. “I was not here.”

“Home? I …” Victor struggled to get up, but Spielsdorf stopped him.

“You cannot be moving. Stay there. I will tend to Ms. Elizabeth myself.” Spielberg walked out of the library.

“Sven, if you happened to see Henry. Tell him I am sorry and missed him.” Victor looked at the servant.

“I……” Sven paused in his reply. He was unsure why the Master needed to apologize. He was the Master, and in the eyes of them, the Master could do no wrong. There were unanswered issues from the death of Ernest and Maple. He had no answers to why they were there and how they died. He had assigned Maple to take care of the youngest master, but that was all he was to know. He heard of the rumours of Elaine and William, but he stifled the gossips. He wanted them to do their duties and not get into their heads that the way to be promoted was with their legs opened. He does not need any more unwanted business.

Taking care of unwanted business was the duty of Mother Hubbard. The committee assigned her the new task: terminate Victor Frankenstein. Killing was the correct term, but termination had a ring of official note there.

“You do not kill a cockroach. You terminate it. If you say I kill a cockroach, then it was done with a sharp object or a gunshot, but the fact you smacked it with its innards splattering out, that is a termination process. You had left nothing to be salvaged from the carcass.” Mother Hubbard learned that from her departed lover, Major Stony Stubbins, who explained the difference between a kill and a termination.

“I terminate them.” The major had clarified. “I am an artilleryman, and with my cannons, I had them terminated with little to nothing of them left. I even do have their names or their ranks, for I cared none of that.”

Mother Hubbard believed him, but when she killed him on finding out that he was a filthy son of a bitch who had another family with his kids in Paddington while he was professing his love to her on their bed in the city,. She saw him on the train from Paddington at 4:50, right across the rail. She confronted him, and he confessed, but she was not accepting it.

“Stubbins, confessions are best said at the booth, for I am not a priest but a lady scorned with fury. When Hell demands retribution, I will deliver.” Mother Hubbard shot her lover in the face and groin.

One day, it will be recognized as the ‘double tap,’ but for then, she felt she killed two monsters in one day. One was his face, that she saw the monster in there, and the other was the monster she had named him.

“Yes, Stubbins. You are going to Hell without a monster between your legs, but a monster will get at you there from the rear. Do not bend, squat, or look behind. You are not going to like that monster staring at you there.”

Like the time you lost your virginity, it can be hard to forget, and Stubbins was her first kill.

Virginity; that is a lady’s secret.

“Mrs. Muriel. I accept the task.” Mother Hubbard smiled. “I heard the Frankenstein will…… pardon me, must need a new matron for the mansion.”

“I held out the needed credentials for the post.” Mother Hubbard pushed her heavy bosom forward.

It was also Lauren who pressed on with her father that she needed to be there to see Carmilla. Spielberg was undecided on the action, and with the pressing matter of Frankenstein, he used that as an excuse to delay the trip.

“Lauren, we will leave soon. I just need to settle the matters here in the mansion.” Spielberg looked at his daughter. “Give me a few days, please.”

“That was what you said last week.” Lauren was upset. “You have been……”

“Lauren, do not taunt me with your words. I am your father. I will do what is needed.” Spielberg drew the line on the discussion.

“What if I tell you I am dying?” Lauren called out. “My heartbeats are getting low. I can hardly hear it. I need to ask Carmilla. It was like this before I met her. Now I am back to then.”

The topic of Lauren’s health dismayed the father’s mood. He was not prepared for that. He approached his daughter.

“Please tell me.”

The chief constable stood at the road looking at the returning group of villagers. He was doing a mental count to ensure no one was left behind. Watson was next to him, tabulating the figures. He saw Patrick approaching him. That was certain to be bad news.

“Chief Constable, Clarence and Carson were set upon by the servant from the mansion. They told me they were helping the young master at the creek when they were clubbed by the servant.” Patrick indicated to the two men staggering out of the forest, assisted by others.

“Ask them to make a report to Watson here.”

“Added to that, they found Silvus’s body there. He was trampled to death. I am telling you a monster did that.” Patrick was focused on putting the blame on the monster. “Dead, sir. Dead.”

Dead meant the monster was up another notch in the list of deaths.

“Where is Silvus’s body?”

“Coming out, sir. We will take him back to the village for a decent burial.” Patrick nodded. “I think he has a cousin there. We will inform her.”

“Sir,” Chief Constable Lestrade stopped the man. “Please tell the event in regard to that.”

“They saw the young master on the ground. They were assisting him and then were set on by the servant. He left them injured and then carried the Master Victor off. The two recovered and saw the Silvus body. They then called for our help, and here I am to report to you.” Patrick repeated his words. Constable Watson was jotting down in his notebook.

“Add to that, the name of Silvus to the list of dead.” The Chief Constable, Lestrade, told Watson,.

“Sir?” Watson looked to the Chief Constable. “Shall we check on the young master?”

“I will. But not now. I am due to return to the church and get my needed rest. The dead will not come alive, and the injured will need to rest. And I am to rest too, for I am……tired.”

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 43

 

43.

“I saw the monster. It was there.” The man stepped out of the forest and met the people gathered there. There were men and women, some armed with rifles, while others held what they could grab from their homes.

“It was running by the treelines there.”

“May God have mercy on us!” One of the women there called out, holding the metal rake in the right hand.

“God will once we kill the monster.” A man called out. To the masculine, it was all about the killing. They will seek penance after it or have their egos praised over the mugs.

“Let us find the monster.” The man who called out earlier took the first step. He was brave with the Brown Bess rifle held in his hands.

“Ian McShane, you do not rush in there. We have a bairn at home who needs his father.” His lover cautioned him. The man stopped in his tracks and looked back. Nothing could stop a man except the cries of his own.

“I am coming with you, Shane. I am not letting you have that round of drinks without my name there.” Trust old Patrick Duffy with the sabre; he took it off a Lancer officer in the war to shore up the courage in Ian. Both took the lead, followed by the others.

There were words to describe a hunt: "The thrill of the hunt is not in the kill, but in the challenge, the preparation, and the chase."  Alas, the ending always sounded like this: "Every hunter has a story; it's woven into the fabric of their being." 

Shots rang out at intermittent times; the rifle was at fault. It needed reloading once it released the shot. The shooter will pour the black powder from the cartridge down the barrel, then spit the musket ball into the muzzle, stuff in the wadding, and ram it all home.

“Sonny, you keep watch with the pitchfork. I am loading the ball in.” The father, Patrick Duffy, having fired the rifle last in the war, was nervous about reloading the rifle. If his ornery sergeant were there, it would have been five rounds of marching as punishment. He was also lost from the others, having taken the wrong turn on the path. He had shot at what he perceived to be a monster, but it was the fleeting shadow of the branches.

“You keep on watching, Sonny.”

“I can hear them over yonder.” Sonny told his Dada.

It was not an annual affair of fox or duck hunting there in the forest, but the villagers did a grand task of stirring up the atmosphere with the noises and screeching then. If there were tigers around, they would have fled the forest.

But not the monster.

“Dada, what does a monster look like?” Sonny asked.

“I would not know. Ugly and… huge.” Patrick muttered. His lover was huge but knew what matters to him.

“Dada…….” Sonny was to caution the father when the older man had his head grabbed from the rear. He was to raise the shout when he felt his head pulled to the back; the force was great, and the cervical spine, where the first seven vertebrae were in the spine. It supports the weight of your head, surrounds and protects your spinal cord, and allows for a wide range of head motions. The force of the grab was followed by the pull action that caused the vertebrae there to crack and the head was without its support.

It may be called bad whiplash damage, but Patrick was slumping to the ground, struggling to breathe. Sonny screamed and had the first real sight of the monster.

“It… it was a monster.” Sonny muttered in between sobs of tears. He was pressed to describe the monster.

“I do not know. I…… Dada is dead.” Sonny released his fear into tears.

“We must find the monster quick. First Wallace, Terry, and now Patrick. “The leader of the gathering voiced out.

“Tell us what we are to do, Collins?” The leader sports a small frame, but he had served in the infantry and retired a non-commissioned officer.

“The monster must have a hideout. We need to find that and then trap it there.” Collins spoke out. “Gathered around me. The killings took place here and here and here.”

Collins drew a rough sketch of the area on the ground with the twig he had fashioned as a pencil.

“I say the monster is holed here.” Collins pointed to the chalk drawing on the ground. “We need to drive the monster here. There we will wait and kill it.”

“What do we use as bait?” It was Ian who asked. “I hunt the hogs.”

“No, we will lure it there. We will form groups and make a lot of noise to get it there. The paths we will take are here and here.” Collins looked to the sky. “We have like three hours before it gets dark. Before that, we will convene back here. We will then return home and begin at dawn.”

The gathering split into four groups and took off.

“Silvus, we will go to the creek.” Victor told the man who was with him. Victor was armed with the revolver, while Silvus had with him the dagger he had on him inside the coat. He had fashioned a long staff for protection.

“Follow me.” Victor took the lead to the creek. He heard the noises made by the other groups, but he had his own path. The walk was long, and finally they reached the creek. It was quiet there, and Victor examined the ground. There was no sign of the creation.

“Master Victor, can I have my coins now?” Victor heard the request. He was to reply when he felt the impact of the staff onto his back. He fell forward, and the second blow was on his head. He suffered a concussion then, but he was aware that his pockets were searched when his body was turned face up and his revolver removed.

“Master Victor, where are my coins?” Silvus stood over the fallen man. Victor shook his head to clear it and looked at Silvus. The vision was unclear, but he knew that if he had fallen prey to the man.

“Where are my coins?” Silvus had thrown away the staff and drawn out the dagger. He leveled it at Victor. He had taken from the pockets of Victor’s coat the few coins there. It was not enough.

“I do not have it…… here.” Victor struggled to focus. “It is in the mansion.”

“You are lying, Master Victor.” Silvus was desperate. “I will …… kill you.”

“Kill me, Silvus? And you will not get any more coins.” Victor said. “They will hang you.”

“Hang me? I am ... No, you will be dead. I will tell them the monster did it.” Silvus laughed. 

Silvus did not feel the pain when the staff cracked his head and smeared his brain matter to the ground. The crude wooden staff broke on impact. The dead man fell forward onto Victor. The latter struggled to push the dead man off him. Once he had done that, he had a glimpse of his savior.

“Henry?” Victor muttered before he slipped into darkness.

Elizabeth wished she was enveloped in darkness when the door to her home was opened. Her aunt stood there in the doorway and was not stepping aside for the younger lady to go in.

“May I come in, Aunt?’

“The prodigal girl returned.” The elderly lady then admitted the younger lady. Elizabeth ignored the lady and walked to her room. Mrs. Muriel looked at the departing lady and then rejoined her meeting with the members of the committee.

“How is she?” The empathic Doctor Judith Landis asked.

“She will survive.” Mrs. Muriel sat herself down on the seat.

“I could attend to her.” Doctor Edward Theodore III, with a doctorate in theology and medicine offered.

“No necessity.” Mrs. Muriel looked at the doctor. “She is in good hands. Let us go back to the matter we were discussing.”

“As I was saying earlier, the matter of the monster has escalated, and it is all related to the Frankenstein family. The unexplained death of Ernest Frankenstein has raised more questions on their link to more drastic works.”

“What about Ms. Muriel’s involvement with……?” Mrs. Landis had raised a valid concern.

“Ms. Muriel was there as she was……looking for a place to stay, knowing that her friend, Justine Moritz, was there before. She could be packing up Ms. Moritz’s personal items, which are unfavorable to be touched by strangers. She was unable to leave when the rumors of the monster were highlighted and reservedly inflamed by the villagers.” Mrs. Muriel stamped her authority on the matter. “I trust Ms. Muriel will give us her reasons after she has rested.”

Doctor Edward was to cut in, but the chairperson continued.

“I was there to offer her safe passage home, but the Frankenstein had denied me that. To that, we will vote on the next action to be taken against the Frankenstein.”

Action was getting things to be done, or done, but Chief Constable Lestrade was not rushing to that. He had joined the gathering in the forest but held back his action, even restraining the constable then.

“Watson, we must not act impulsively.  We are to act within the available evidence cumulated in our investigative works. We must apply logical …. Reasoning from the evidence, eliminating…… no, it shall be deductions of the causes to arrive at the …….”

“Sir, may I join the search?” Constable Watson asked.

“Oh, yes, you may.” The Chief Constable nodded. The newly appointed constable took off on the hunt, leaving the Chief Constable then standing at the altar of the church. He looked to the figure on the crucifix.

“It was elementary that the man may lack the proper skills of the crime detective, but given time he will learn.” The Chief Constable, Lestrade, traces the cross on his forehead, lips, and chest.

 

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 42

 

42.

Elizabeth saw the mob dispersed there, and Victor was walking back to the mansion. He left Sven to stand guard there. It was the servant’s task. She heard the roar of one among the mob.

“Monster!”

Elizabeth sighed. Are we not monsters when we judged another one. Do they see themselves in the mirror? Their reflection will tell them more of themselves. In her studies. a monster; they covered that definition many times, an animal or plant of abnormal form or structure, or a strange or horrible creature and unusually large, or the extremely wicked or cruel person. If these were definitive, then all of them falls in either one or more of those perceptions.

“It is nihilism with a chaser of unwelcome pessimism.” One student once said in the class. The professor who was a staunch believer in God and member of the Theology Society invited the student into an hour long of debate, and thus ended with this remark from the student.

“Human consciousness, is a tragic misstep in evolution. Our consciousness became too self-aware; like we are apart from our first creation. We had evolved to the level where we are the creatures that should not exist by natural law.”

“Monster you meant?” The professor had interjected in many syllables said by the student. After all, he was the learned one.

“No, that was not what I meant. Human unlike other living creatures labour under the illusion of having a self; an accretion of sensory, experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody is truly ……. Nobody but a frame of blood and flesh. If we shed those away, we could …… honourably re-invent our programming, stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction, one last dusk, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal. Our extinction may end the existence of the monster.” The student looked to the others. “The world needs good and bad people but among them monster lived. We cannot keep the other bad men from them but if we cease to exist., we may.”

“You are a nihilist …… no, a monster yourself.” The professor had his voice raised. “You …….”

"I realize that in my life, we love, we hate, we hold those memory, the pain included with the happiness. If we step above that, it is all a dream. A dream that we cannot return to, and thus it remained inside here.” The student motioned to his head. “A locked room. The dream or memories to many, and in there, exists monsters. Ours.”

"Son, you are one demented child. You must be ready to ………” The professor looked at the student.

“No, Sir. I am not a son. Medically, I am a she. My dressing and looks eluded your vision of me.” The student sporting the short hair hidden by the cap, and loose garb for dressing did hide her body dimension. “I hold a cunt than a prick like you. And Professor, you elude more of the nature of the monster in your teaching.”

(Borrowed and adapted the lines from the character Rust Cohle, True Detective Season 1, 2014). (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2356777/quotes/)

“Good day, Professor. May the humankind end soon. More generations may not have to fell to the obvious violence and degradation then."

That day, the professor lost half his student but Elizabeth stayed on. She must support the Theology Society existence; monster they may be but she is one.

“They are leaving. They said there is a monster at the forest.” Victor stepped into the library. “I need to go there.”

“Why, Victor?” Elizabeth asked.

“I ……. If it is truly a monster, I want to see ……. if it killed William and……”

“Ernest too? You told the Chief Constable, Ernest died from the fight with the maid.” Elizabeth confronted him.

“No, I did not. I did not say anything. It was Spielsdorf. He told the Chief Constable. I did not say……”

“Ans you were there. Youi saw what happened and chose to remain silent. Why?” Elizabeth asked.

“I……” Victor found himself at a loss of words.

“You are expressing deniability, Victor. I could tell.” Elizabeth pressed on. “What happened there?”

“I am not. Nothing that happened ……” Victor stormed off leaving Elizabeth with grief.

Grief was the expression on the Chief Constable mind. He saw the gathered there at the church ground, men, and women with only one thought in their mind.

Monster.

If all his years of doing the task of enforcement, the only monster he knew was in existence of another human, with demented emotions.  He recalled the case of Frederick and Marie Manning conspired to kill Patrick; her ex-lover for financial gain. they lured him round for dinner, shot him in the back of the head, buried him under their kitchen floor and fled with his money. His body was eventually discovered, and Marie and Frederick were apprehended in Edinburgh and Jersey respectively.

It was the news then.

“Monster and Witch, they were.” The headlines screamed then.

“Down with their heads.” The mobs called out, though they were never to know the dead or the accused, but who cares. It was to bring out the monster inside them. Wives were bellowing that mistresses kills.

The accused were tried and sentenced to death. (https://www.historyhit.com/the-most-notorious-murders-in-victorian-england/)

Senior Constable Lestrade, he was not promoted then, indirectly involved in the case; he lent his legs to patrol the city but it was not solved by him. He did meet a good man, Charles Dickens whom he shared a drink at the taverns.

“It was a sight so inconceivably awful as the wickedness and levity of the immense crowd collected at that execution this morning could be imagined by no man.” Charles; they were good friends then, told Lestrade. “It shudders me to the bones.”

“Ripped your innards, huh?” Lestrade had commented. “One day, someone will.”

“Ripper huh? That will made the news then.” Charles had smiled.

“Chief Constable, Sir. Do we partake in the search, Sir?” It was the Sergeant who asked the Chief Constable. The later saw the gleam of the hunt in the other. He nodded then.

“Leave the guard detail at the Frankenstein’s mansion. Just in case, someone sneaks back.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sergeant O’Reilly commanded the others to follow him. 

Spielsdorf met Sven in the corridor. The later had abandoned his post.

“Why are you here?’ Spielsdorf asked.

“I am to get my extra gun. They are off to the forest to hunt for a monster. My worry is that it may be Sven.” The man was concerned on his son. “They are mad. They may shoot before they check.”

“Mother of God ……… please go. You must find Henry.” Spielsdorf was to stop the man but changed his mind. The concern of the son was more important. He had seen deserters who left their post for home. It was punishment by the regiment, but when it was a valid reason, how do you prevent them from their families. The threat to their families may be considered as trivial to the regiment but the emotion of the men must be maintained. If words get out that they were prevented from going home, then the others may revolt. It was also the other matter if all were to be left to their emotions, the discipline of the regiment was at stake.

Spielsdorf was not a capable Общий for that. His officers had taken the task not to inform him of the desertion if any, and took their own action.

“Общий, permission to leave?” Sven asked. The ranking Общий nodded.

“I will take the rear gate. The main gate is still guarded by the Infantry group.” Sven said. “Take care, Общий. I will …… I may return or if I do not, please take care of Master Victor.”

“You will return, Sven. That is an order.” Spielsdorf pulled rank. The later saluted and took off.

Spielsdorf looked to the doorway of his daughter’s chamber. He knew it was reckless to take Lauren there to Carmilla’s mansion, but in him, he knew that was the final push to the war he had waged. Lissa told him to go to the lab, but it had brought him more hardship. He had a glimpse of the carnage done by the …… creation as described by Victor on the demon.

“This is a world where nothing gets solved.” Spielsdorf sighed. (Another line borrowed from True Detective.) “Unless sacrifices are made. Amen.”

Spielsdorf knew then, he had to leave with Lauren.

So was Elizabeth, her mind made. My sanctuary is with my aunt, Elizabeth told herself. Victor was an illusion.

As for Victor, he knew that the monster was his creation. He had to protect it, or suffered another setback to his tasks.

“Sire, where are you going?” It was Silvus. He was there because he had no place to go, and without the coins, he was lonely.

“Why are you here? Get out.”

“Nowhere to go, Sir. I have nothing. I heard of the monster calling. Maybe I can help.” Silvus offered his help. I can divert them when we find ……”

“Silvus, I do not need you. I can. ……” Victor had a change of mind. Silvus knew too much of nothing, and yet his babbling could implicate Victor.

“Follow me. You will be …… my aide.”

“Do I get paid?”

“Yes.” Victor nodded. “After we find the creation.”

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 41

 

41.

The villagers all turned up to look for Wallace. He was declared missing after his axe was found at the creek. There were his clothes and one other frock that belonged to a lady. It ran off speculations, and Laurel, the churchgoing lady, was taking it lying down. She went on rounds, calling upon the other Christian-loving folks to rally with her, and be damned that this village needs to be cleansed. The assembled mob went to the taverns and whatever hellholes their men may have patronized and demanded ‘retribution.’. The scenes were chaotic, and the chief constable had to wire for assistance from the city. Three days and nights of retribution came to a solemn end with the arrival of the army; Tommy Atkins they were nicknamed.

“Sergeant O’Reilly, Barnsley O’Reilly. Suffolk 2nd Infantry, sir.” The non-commissioned officer stood at attention and saluted the chief constable with the left hand. The infantry wore scarlet coatees or tailless jackets, with greatcoats for cold weather. A white cotton dress was used for summer wear with the greyish-blue trousers. The tapering "Albert" shako, with peaks both fore and aft, was adopted. The infantry was armed with the Brown Bess musket, essentially the same weapon the Army had used, the Brunswick Rifle, which was first adopted in 1836.

“We were assigned by the regiment command to assist here, Sir.” Sergeant O’Reilly sported a tall frame and sideburns that reached the thick moustache on his upper lip.

“I have with me twenty of my best here.” The sergeant stepped aside to display his men. “Fine, lots of lads.”

“Good, Sergeant. I am Chief Constable Lestrade. Here is my aide, Constable Watson. I need your men to patrol the village and stop the mobs from dragging any ladies they may think are vixens.” The Chief Constable had sought refuge at the church, missing the priest. “Bring those poor ladies here to the shelter.”

“And men too. Poor sods who were mistakenly blamed.”

The sergeant saluted and then organized his men into four groups of five. Just as they were to march off, the Chief Constable asked the sergeant to send one group to the Frankenstein’s mansion down the road.

“You cannot miss it. They are a mob there, and they are held back by the Frankenstein household. Shots were fired, but I have no reports of casualties.” The Chief Constable sighed. Bloody idiots could have been killed and roasted in the furnace for all he cared.

“And do take care not to harm a Mrs. Muriel. You cannot miss her at all. She will be the one with the revolver.”

“Permission to take drastic action, sir?” The sergeant’s lips twitched.

“None whatsoever unless you are shot at. Please restrain your men. I valued lives, and we have lost three to the mobs. I will bring them to justice.” The Chief Constable sighed. “Monsters they were.”

“Sir!” The sergeant saluted and redirected the group led by Private, or Toms, as he preferred to be called.

“Matthew!” Sergeant O’Reilly likes the man. The name of Matthew is traditionally regarded as one of the twelve apostles of Jesus and the author of the Gospel of Matthew, one of the four gospels in the New Testament, which recounts the life and teachings of Jesus.  That Matthew, John Matthew was his full name, was a good man; a soldier often enlisted after being plied with drink by a recruiting sergeant in a pub. The sergeant denied all of that.

“Sir, he accepted the "Queen's shilling" and was given twenty-four to ninety-six hours to reconsider. He did not reconsider.”

Matthew could not then, for he was drunk, and told by Lois that he was hunted by her husband. He left the cottage and found himself escorted to the recruitment tent.

“Son, your avenue from retribution is to be in the infantry.” That was how Matthew took the oath of allegiance before a magistrate.

“God and…… Queen saved you, son.” Matthew was told. “Now button up your coatee.”

God and Queen did not save him from the humiliation; the ladies of the Theology Society then gathered outside the mansion.

“Son, when did your mama let you wean off from her milk?”

“I can tell you still wet the bedding nightly. The poor boy needs his breeches washed. I could smell him a mile away.”

“Hail, Mother Mary. They sent us boys to do the man’s job.”

Private “Tom” Matthew stood his guard there. He had with him four others; one was Welsh, and another was Irish. The other two he never bothered to ask, but he knew that those four were not Catholics but Protestants. He was not with them in faith, but his duty stands above his belief.

“Mad Catholics.” Matthew heard the call by one of the Protestants. He was not going to persecute that man. He felt the same as those who were gathered there.

“I am Mrs. Muriel. I am the chairperson of the Theology Society. Let me tell you what we do.” The lady stood there and gave the infantry a long lecture on their beliefs.

“Purity in our body and soul, purity in our mind and thoughts.” They all called out.

“I must go out there.” Elizabeth stood behind the long glass door to the garden at the library. “My aunt is there.”

“You cannot go there. We do not know what they will do. They are …… monsters.” Victor tried to reassure the lady. “They may kill you.”

“Kill? What did you do, Victor? You are lucky that the Chief Constable was undecisive. It has been three days now.”

“I did not kill…… anyone.” Victor declared his innocence. “I have told you over and over again many times.”

“No……” Elizabeth broke down in tears. “So many deaths. “William, Justine, and then Ernest…. I do not know what to think.”

“Think nothing but this. I love you.” Victor held her close to him. “I love you.”

“I…… love you too.” Elizabeth found the reply she was to give, but deep down, she felt empty. She was no longer the Elizabeth Muriel from last week. She was ruined. Her aunt will not forgive her for her ways. She was to be pure. One day, married to a fine man from a fine family.

“Not to the Frankenstein’s boys.” Elizabeth was told.

Could love be understood? In her studies, she was told that love is a complex and subjective experience; understanding its various facets and expressions can be insightful, though perhaps not fully comprehensible, as it is a deeply personal and multifaceted emotion.  That was what the professors had taught them. The ladies in the corridors said otherwise: Love is when someone knows every little thing about us, takes time to know what is within us, and sees us beyond the surface.

“I concurred. I knew not much about Sally, and in the little time we knew each other, she had seen all of me naked.” That was Tessa, the foreign student from the continent. She had professed to love the woman more than the man. Why was that, when she was asked?

“He would not hold his monster and say, ‘Can I take you? but he would anyway.” Tessa laughed. “I could tell him; I have a bigger monster in my drawer, but then he may seek my other hole.”

“Arsehole! Do your own.” Tessa will shriek.

“He loves your asshole, Tessa.” Another called out.

So, love was a failure of awareness in us. That was what Elizabeth had concurred. She was not able to take notice of her failure to stop Victor then as she did with William. She had failed, and it ruined her.

“Master Victor, Mr. Spielsdorf asked for you. He is at the gate.” It was one of the maids. Spielberg took guard at the gate with Sven.

“Hello, lad.” Spielberg greeted Victor. “We got the infantry here. It will hold the mob back.”

“Bring my niece here.” It was Mrs. Muriel, and she was raging mad when she saw Victor. “Did you hold her against her will?”

“Monster!” The mob there roared. Victor was to reply, but Spielsdorf held him back.

“Go back. They will lynch you if you go out there.” Victor heeded the advice.

“I called you to tell you that I need you to stay here with Sven. I need to see Lauren.” Spielberg tapped the lad’s left shoulder and handed the revolver to him. “Shoot if you are attacked, but only when Sven does. He knows better.”

It did not take long for Spielsdorf to be at his daughter’s side. She was frail, but her condition was improving. She asked the father of the mob outside.

“We do not know. They are here because one man was killed at the creek.” Spielsdorf told the daughter,. “Here they are demanding to see Ms. Muriel.”

“Who is she?”

“She stays here when…… she was with Victor, the last son of Frankenstein.” Spielberg tried to find words to explain.

“Father, may I ask you?” The father leaned over.

“Have you seen Carmilla? I have not seen her for many nights.”

“Why do you ask?” Spielsdorf asked.

“She is my friend. I… I love her. We share a lot.” Lauren smiled. “I think she needs me. Can we find her?”

“How, my love?”

“Carmilla told me you will know.” Lauren said. “You’ve been there.”

“You told me you did not see her?” Spielsdorf asked," His mind was in confusion; did she meet Carmilla?

“I did.” Lauren smiled. “It is a girl’s secret. She told me that. I must not tell the whole truth, and maybe at times, part of the truth.”

“And……”

“She was here last night. She told me to come find her. She told you, You will know.”

“I do not think so……” Spielberg shook his head. “She may …….”

“She told me you will say so. She told me that she would not harm me but wanted to show me her mansion.” Lauren held onto her father’s hand. “She will not harm you too. Can we?”

Out there! someone shouted.

“They found a monster in the forest. It had killed Wallace before and just did Terry. His head was crushed.”

“Monster!” They all roared.

 

Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 40

 40.

Mistress Mary, Quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With Silver Bells And Cockle Shells,
And so my garden grows.

(first published in Tommy Thumb's Pretty Song Book (1744))

The creature sat by itself at the creek. It was looking for Henry. He likes to come there. She sat on the same spot where they lay naked and looked at the birds on the branches. Henry will sing to her the poem of Mary.

“Your name is Mary.” Henry said. Little does he know of the meaning but he was sung that when young.

“Your garden will be …... aplenty of flowers and birds. I will also like your garden. Free to grow and love. I want to be free like them someday,” Henry had said.

“Can I be with you then, Henry?” It asked him.

“Yes, you will be with me. You will be…… Henry Mary… whatever. I loved you.” Henry turned over to kiss the creation. The lips were cold, but to him, the warmth was in the heart. And mind.

Love conquers all.

“Alas, what shall I do for love?

 For love, alas, what shall I do?

Syth is now so kind,

I do yow fynde,

to kepe yow me vnto,

Alas…”

(Poem Henry VIII circa 1509) https://bronasbooks.com/2021/06/03/alas-what-shall-i-do-for-love-king-henry-viii-poem/)

It was the poem, Henry said to her when he made love with her. She felt nothing, but it did not matter. All she cared then was Henry was happy.

Henry did.

“Are you done?” It asked of Henry.

“Yes, I am. You carry inside you, my seeds. You will give birth to my children.” Henry laughed.

“I would like to.” It smiled. “If only I knew how?”

“Do not worry, Mary. Miracles will come to us.” Henry said. Miracles was what she wanted to have. It was a miracle to be …. Living, being loved, and being given a name. Mary was to her very nice.

“Henry, where are you?’ The creature sat up. “I am here, Henry. Please come to me.”

“He will not be.” The voice was behind her. She turned and saw a man there. He was huge and held an axe.

“Why …… Oh my God! Who are you? You are ugly.” The man cringed at the expression. “It does not matter. Do you hold the body of a woman? I can be quick.”

“Who are you?” It asked.

“I am your dinner.” The man dropped the axe and unbuttoned the breeches. “I got your dinner here. Take off your clothes.”

It stared at the man. He was nude below the waist. He was ugly. Henry once told her, ‘Mary, only I can have you. No one else may touch you.’

“Do it, bitch!” The man grabbed the frock and tore it off.

“My God, what are you? My Laurel has a better body than you.” The man cried out in horror at the disfigured lady. “What is offered shall not be refused.”

It did what was its instinct. It lashed out with the right fist at the man’s groin. The fist, with its enormous force, impacted there. The man howled out in pain, and then the creature reached up and pierced the organs there. The man tried to push the lady off, but she held on and pushed him to the back. He collapsed in pain, but the lady was gone.

“Someone lost his birdie.” The voice from the figure leaned over the man in agony. “Sad, but the bird meant a lot to you, dear Wallace. I knew that when Laurel told me, next to his mead, the other meat was his founding member.”

“Help me… please.” Wallace, the woodcutter, revealed the name pleaded. “I need a doctor.”

“Did you not know? Doctor Mitchell is dead. You need the priest for the last rites.” The voice spoke. “I am a priestess. How does it go then?”

"Loving and merciful God, we entrust our brother/sister to your mercy. You loved him/her greatly in this life; now that he/she is freed from all its cares, give him/her happiness and peace forever."  The voice paused there. “I must admit your soul will not be at peace from now on. You will rot in Hell till eternity freezes over. My interpretation does not hold my words on that.”

“Lady, who are you? Why do you torment me here?”

“My name is Lady Carmilla Karnstein. I am ……...” The lady coughed. “I am your deliverance to Hell.”

The lady summoned the predators in the forest to the feast. She stepped away and leaned on the tree trunk. Her body was weakening ever since she gave her last blood essence to Lauren. She did not regret it at all. She was tired of the existence, of battling her own sisters and thwarting the advances of the vampire. She had sought the other blood essence, and upon discovering it, she found a soul to share with her. Her essence was forgotten then.

Love was unusual… …it held the binds that even immortals cannot comprehend. He had seen sisters who sacrificed themselves in the name of love; others died for love, foregoing the coven’s needs for love.

“You have nothing to add, sir.” Chief Constable Lestrade looked at Victor. They were all gathered at the mansion on the request of Spielsdorf. He relented, and his tea was not forthcoming. He had Watson lock the lab’s door.

“I have nothing to say, Chief Constable.” Victor sat there with one new guest, Elizabeth Muriel. She had heard of the commotion and found Victor at the library. He was seated where the Tata used to be seated. Elizabeth stood by him on the side.

Tea was served then by the maids.

“Ms. Muriel, your aunt was anxious about your whereabouts. The Chief Constable had started off the conversation. “I will send words to…….”

“Not needed, Chief Constable. I will return home after this …… discussion.”

“Mr. Spielsdorf, please……”

“Chief Constable, I have said my piece. I was with Victor and had wanted to see him on Lauren’s condition.” Lauren was then back in her chamber. “I walked in and saw Ernest on the table, and the maid was at the corner. They were dead.”

“Dead?” The Chief Constable raised his eyebrow.

“Obvious. I have been a soldier and am familiar with the sight of death.”

“People just don't see things like that." The Chief Constable looked at the man. “On the contrary, your experience was not of the many. I accept your statement.”

“Do jot that down, Watson. One day you may write a tale out of it.” The Chief Constable smiled. “Jake Watson, parish constable and author.”

“Sir.” Watson had his pencil out.

“Yes, back to us. What did you do then, Mr. Spielsdorf?”

“I placed Lauren on the bedding and asked Victor. He told me that there was a fight between the maid and Ernest. He was then crushed by the wooden cabinet, and the maid got shot by Ernest’s revolver. And……” Spielberg looked towards Victor. “He had Ernest on the table to save him.”

“Most informative. Tell me, Mr. Spielsdorf, how did the maid get her legs severed?”

“I do not know. She was …… without her legs when I arrived.”

“Je vois (I see in French).” The Chief Constable smiled. “Pardon me. I have been learning French since last month. Now back to the maid. You came, you saw, and …… no legs, huh?”

“Yes. It was.” Spielberg nodded.

“How did the bodies end up in the furnace?” The Chief Constable asked.

“We wanted to hold the body somewhere. The furnace was the place.” Spielberg replied.

“There was the cold chamber. Were you aware of it?”

“Cold chamber?” Spielberg looked towards Victor. “No, I was not aware.”

“I was told that Victor does his experiment with the cadaver and keeps his work there.” The Chief Constable smiled. “How convenient.”

“Chief Constable, if you are implying that Victor is a murderer, you better be more supportive with real evidence, or I will have the city side made known of your blundering ways.” Elizabeth snapped at the Chief Constable. “The Muriel’s will not let that …….”

“Noted, Ms. Muriel. Well noted, Ms. Muriel.” The Chief Constable held up his hand in defeat. “I was not implying but asking my questions. We will proceed on.”

“Mr. Frankenstein……”

“Victor will do, Chief Constable. Mr. Frankenstein is looking at us from there.” Victor motioned to his Tata’s portrait. “He will not look well to us, after having lost two sons in the time since you arrived.”

It was a veiled threat at the Chief Constable.

“May his soul rest in peace. I will find his son’s murderer……soon.” 

 

Foot note explainatory

Mary’s Rhyme

Like many nursery rhymes, it has acquired various historical explanations. One theory is that it is a religious allegory of Catholicism, with Mary being Mary, the mother of Jesus, bells representing the sanctus bells, the cockleshells the badges of the pilgrims to the shrine of Saint James in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, and pretty maids are nuns, but even within this strand of thought there are differences of opinion as to whether it is lament for the reinstatement of Catholicism or its persecution.

Another theory sees the rhyme as connected to Mary, Queen of Scots (1542–1587), with "how does your garden grow" referring to her reign over her realm, "silver bells" referring to (Catholic) cathedral bells, "cockle shells" insinuating that her husband was not faithful to her, and "pretty maids all in a row" referring to her ladies-in-waiting – "The four Maries"

 

King Henry VIII poem

King Henry VIII wrote some poems in his spare time. Or to be more precise, lyrics, as most of his poems were also designed to be sung and played. Some of the lyrics were collated in the Henry VIII Manuscript circa 1522 along with other court composers of the time. They reveal that during the early years of his reign, young Henry’s court was one of lively fun and courtly pleasure. (https://bronasbooks.com/2021/06/03/alas-what-shall-i-do-for-love-king-henry-viii-poem/