Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 46

 

46.

“The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind. Sigmund Freud.

Elizabeth woke up with a start. She touched her lips; they were dry, and then the door to her chamber was knocked. She sat up and reached for the dressing gown. The knocks persisted on the door.

“I am coming.” Elizabeth drew on her gown and answered the door.

“You were screaming.” It was her aunt. “I …”

“I am fine. It may have been a dream.” Elizabeth looked past her aunt. She could make out the gathering there, probably at the living area, and descended like vultures upon her.

“I have to go out.” Elizabeth told her aunt. “I will get changed.”

“Why? Where? You have not left your room for days. Why now?” Aunt Muriel was asking.

“I have some …… work to do.” Elizabeth pushed the elderly lady from the door, and then she closed it. She stood there with her back to the door, with concern on her face. She needed to see Victor. It may be happening then.

Anne Muriel took her walk back to the living area, with the gathering giving her the passage towards the fireplace. She sat there by the fireplace and looked at the ashes there.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The lady muttered.

“Mrs. Muriel, I could attend to her. Some medication to ease …….” It was Doctor Theodore who asked, but Mrs. Muriel shook her head.

“May we resume?” Mrs. Landis cut in. “I have……”

“Yes, we resume.” Mrs. Muriel nodded. “Mother Hubbard is in position and will do as needed.”

“Aye, we had agreed.” Doctor Theodore nodded.

“The presence of the extra soldiers will be monitored, and I was told that they will resume the search.” Mrs. Landis reported. “One of my relations there; a fine lad from my mother's side. Distant cousin of the blood. God bless her soul.”

“Our focus is on the Frankenstein. There is still one left.” Mrs. Muriel looked at the gathered. “We shall now allow them to sow their seeds in our land. It will be a recurrence of nightmares.”

Chief Constable Lestrade had his dreams. As it stood then, it was becoming a nightmare. He stood looking at the soldiers putting up their tents next to the churchyard, a distance from the final resting place for the departed.

“We will be here for a while, but we shall be discreet.” Lieutenant Sharp told him. Discreet was an expression of being unburdened to others, but the villagers were making themselves a burden there. They ply their trades there with the baskets of fruits and drinks; coins were exchanged, and some had their soothing muscles kneaded.

No one remembers the hard-working constables there. That was his nightmare. He lost his basket of fruit delivered to the church, and without the priest there, mass was just a formality of prayers, and then the congregation took to visiting the soldiers.

The city was unkind to him with their wire; assist there and do not rush. His letter to his lover was unreturned.

There was no rush for the departing guest from the mansion. Spielberg took the reins while Lauren was resting in the carriage interior, comfy with the plushie cushions. He had kept the revolver in his left-hand coat pocket, borrowed from the mansion with the silver bullets. His own revolver was on the carriage seat with the steel-encased bullets. He was not taking any risk with Lauren travelling with him.

During their previous journey, they were blessed with good weather most times and hardly any untoward visits by rowdy or highwaymen. He was not sure of their new journey.

Like dreams, they could become nightmares.

Spoken too soon, Spielsdorf saw the fallen branch on the road. He pulled in the reins and stopped the horse. He looked around for any signs of trouble; a branch may fall on the road, but most times, it said of other causes.

“I will suggest you get down, Sir.” The voice came from the front right of the carriage. It was a man dressed like a hunter, and obvious was the rifle in his hands levelled at Spielsdorf.

“And bring down the cases. And the lady, please.” The so-called highwayman was well informed. “No harm will come to you and her.”

Spielberg knew the meaning of highwayman. They never meant to harm anybody; for them the coins and valuables are more of their needs. He was wary of this man and knew of his passenger. That was a rarity unless informed beforehand.

“I am coming down.” Spielberg turned his body frame to climb down from the carriage. “My body is old.”

Spielberg stood on the ground and looked at Lauren.

“She is unwell. Please spare her the agony of stepping down.” Spielberg looked towards the man.

“Tell her to come down or I will get her myself.” The man stepped forward towards the carriage. It was a split-second distraction, and Spielsdorf shot the man in the chest without drawing his revolver. He fired the revolver through the pocket of his coat. He had done it before when he was in the military. It was called a desperate move when he shot from the hip without removing the revolver.

The highwayman went down on his knees.

Lauren screamed from inside the carriage.

“It is okay, Lauren. I stopped him.” Spielberg opened the carriage door to check on his daughter. “It is all fine now.”

“I will not say so, Sir. You are just lucky.” The voice from the rear of Spielsdorf. He turned around to look at the one who spoke. It was the cook from the mansion. She was holding the revolver aimed at Spielsdorf.

“Who are you?”

“Mother Hubbard, they call me.” The cook smiled. “Do you know the rhyme?”

Old Mother Hubbard,
Went to the cupboard,
To give the poor dog a bone,
When she came there,
The cupboard was bare.
And so the poor dog had none.

Spielberg shot her from the same revolver. She was surprised to be shot. She knew then, the pain of the body when the bullet penetrated her chest. She dropped the revolver she was holding and reached for her wound.

“It hurts……” The lady stood there in shock.

“Lady, whatever your name is. I… My dog died eating the bone. I have not another after that.” Spielberg looked towards the dying lady. “And I disliked having anyone level their guns at me and my daughter. I would not hesitate to shoot first.”

“Purity in our body and soul, purity in our mind and thoughts.” Mother Hubbard fell to her haunches, with tears in her eyes. “I am …….”

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God; Matthew 5:8.” Spielberg corrected the lady. “You were not.”

Mother Hubbard dropped to the left side while her wound bled there.

“Father, why did you shoot her?” Lauren appeared at the door.

“She was impure, Lauren.” Spielberg replied. “She will never make it to Heaven like your mother.”

Spielberg did not regret killing the lady. He was unsure of her intentions, but in his experience, she appeared with a gun and was a threat to his well-being. His experiences told him to kill before you are killed. Innocents they may be before who had suffered the same outcome, but he did not suffer any nightmares from them.

“Let us ride on.” Spielberg told his daughter to go back in. He closed the carriage door and mounted the front. He then pushes the horse to ride on. He will do his confession when he reaches the church next on the journey.

Victor was not to confess to anything. He had no dreams of any sort on his tasks. He was not to be blamed. There were things that he had not anticipated.

“Dreams are …… How could you dream?” Victor asked for the creation then. “You are……should be incapable…...”

“I do.” It replied. “I could dream. Henry told me of dreams. It… inspired him…”

“Stop using those words. You are not to know……” Victor stopped the creation. “Henry does not……”

“Master, Henry taught me many words. He learned from you and the others. He …… wanted me to know of it. He had dreamed of me telling him his dreams of…….”

“Stop it! You are not a …… You are my creation. I am the one to teach you. No one else can do that.” Victor was not in acceptance of his creation, learning from others. “Not even Henry. He is an …… imbecile.”

“Master, Henry is smart. He …”

“Enough! I will not hear of this.” Victor glared at the creation. “Go back to the chamber. Stay there and do not move anywhere.”

It did not move. It looked at its master.

“Master, did you kill Henry? He showed me in the dream.”

“Go back to your chamber now.”