Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 38

 

38.

My darling,

The battle today is worse than the day before. It is not the pain I suffered. The dead appear sickening, but they suffer no pain. It is the wounded, mutilated soldiers that yet have life and sensation that make a most horrid picture. I pray God may stop such infernal work—perhaps he has sent it upon us for our sins. Great indeed must have been our sins if such is our punishment. I dreamed of home the night before last. I love to dream of home; it seems so much like really being there. The farm, the trees, and the wonderful apple pies you make. I dreamed of you nightly and saw you and Linsey in the window. We kissed like never before. Was not that quite a soldier's dream? Those nights when I was away at a hospital to see some wounded were the moments I dreaded. I have made the acquaintance of another officer, our rebel prisoner. He is a physician; he was not before; he was a butcher but had to perform as the surgeon. We finished two bottles to sober up, ironically. We all shared one thought: were men to be removed from their limbs? Are we monsters here? Both of us agreed then.

Love.

That was the content of the letter that was censured by Spielsdorf on the battlefield. He had it destroyed for the fear of it being told to the others and from there to many. The morale of the soldiers will be affected. The reality of the war was that suffering was to be the aftermath. The condition then was to win the battle.

It was a hard task.

Victor was hard at the task. He knew the works required to save Ernest’s life. The amputation needs to be done. The legs were crushed. He knew the procedure, but his patients were cadavers.

Ernest is alive.

Or he will die if he is not removed of his legs.

“Get me my tools,” Victor called out.

“Which ones?’ Spielsdorf asked," The elderly man had placed his daughter on the bedding there, and the creature had returned to the cold chamber. Maple was still in shock, and covered with a cover, she took refuge in the far corner.

Victor looked over his shoulder. He was without his assistant, Henry. He walked over to the table and retrieved the saw.

“Are you going to remove his legs?” Spielsdorf asked," Victor nodded.

“I can only save him if it is done.” Victor removed the dead skin and flesh. The wound was serrated by the wooden cabinet; there was blood everywhere. He hosed the blood off and saw the crushed bones.

“Mother of God! Is there any alternative?” Spielsdorf asked.

“Yes. Wait till God intervenes with a miracle.” Victor leaned to look at the wound. Blood was seeping out, and he needed to stop that. He took up the sutures to tie the ends. It was unlike a cadaver; there was no flowing blood.

“Henry…… Henry……” Victor was at a loss there.

“Henry is missing. I will try to help.” Spielberg looked at Victor. “I could hold the head …… or the legs.”

“No……” Victor sighed. “I need to …… God, I do not know. Where is the surgeon?”

“There is none, Victor. Ever since Doctor Mitchell died, there was none.” Spielsdorf sighed. “Do what you can. Your Tata will understand.”

“Go and look for Sven. Tell him to find Silvus. I have work to do here.” Victor told Spielsdorf. He then proceeded to suture the exposed arteries.

“I have created. I will do so again.” Victor muttered to himself. He looked at the arteries. They were still sprouting blood faster than he could suture.

“I have to stop it.” Victor said. “How? How?”

“I cannot delay. I must have the legs.” Victor cursed. “If only I had not disposed of the unused body parts.”

Victor saw the maid seated there. She was about the dimension of Ernest. It may do. He picked up the revolver and approached her. She saw him coming and cringed in fear. Her torment was not over just yet.

“Monster!” Maple cried out.

“No, I am not. I am your master, and you are my servant. For that, you will do it, servant.” Victor fired the shot at her face. She fell back dead. He pulled the body forward and looked at the legs. It will fit.

Victor retrieved his saw and proceeded to do his task.

So was Carmilla. She saw her love, Lauren, carried to the lab. She was to follow, but something held her back. It was the thought of Lauren. Her father was protecting her, and the lab was the place. She knew of the lab, watching from afar, and not acting on it till that day, she went in.

“The poor boy holds body parts. He likes to play with them.” Carmilla recalled seeing the creation on the table. “Such a …… misaligned shape. I have to say that the boy is a bad surgeon.”

Carmilla touched the creation.

It was cold.

It was dead.

“If……” Carmilla smiled. “Carmilla Karnstein, you are vicious.”

“Re-animating the dead. Was it not the work of the vampire? No…. they were not dead then. Their blood was removed and replaced with the vampire’s blood. They were made more alive.” Carmilla laughed. “Vlad, you are vain.”

“Vlad, here is a new specimen. You did call them specimens……. No, it was much earlier when you first converted them. Now they are your servants. Well, here is one servant……so, sorry. It is dead and made of several parts. A most unusual specimen.”

“Perhaps …….” Carmilla smiled. “A joint experiment of mine with yours. We, the witches, have been known to revive the dead. And you could give it…… life; truly the undead life.”

It was then Carmilla did the task, a drop of her blood, and the creation was enacted. It learned the reality of being undead. It was a genius achievement, but it also made Carmilla fear the creation.

“I gave it life. The only other drop left inside me…... my heartbeat.” Carmilla sighed. “Carmilla Karnstein, are you a fool? You are already weakened by Vlad; you gave the blood essence of your soul to the man who invaded your mansion. And now you shared your last essence with the creation. You will cease to exist soon without it.”

“Maybe I am a fool. Ever since I met Lauren, I found a new purpose in my existence. A purpose to share love. Sincere lover and not of any deceit.” Carmilla smiled. “I will cease to exist, but my love will remain…. My heart beats.”

“For Pete’s sake, why do you bring me out here?” Chief Constable Lestrade was lacking in the long walks at those fast paces since he became the chief.

“Sorry, sir.” The newly appointed constable was much younger and had his daily walks in the fields; Anne lived across the field, and it was a long walk unless you paced faster, and before the sun comes up, and the milking run may be over, or the mother will be calling for her soon after. If there was a term soon to be made on long-distance love, that was it, but a good rub and shake will ease the woes of it.

“I found this.” Constable Watson approached the creek. “Sir, I found this.”

“Beatty, what in tarnation may that be?” The Chief Constable Lestrade cried out.

“It is Watson, Sir. My name.” The constable corrected the chief. “This is a shirt label. It is rare to have one, but one day they may do it. My father had it done to us, all seven siblings. He forgot our names too when he got older. We will show him the label.”

“For heaven’s sake, what do you have there?”

“A shirt, or rather part of it. The name there is Henrietta, like my other …… Or was it my cousin? Long name they were.”

“And in the name of God, what has that to do with Elizabeth Muriel’s search?” Constable Watson was told to search for the lady.

“Oh, it is not hers. The lady does not sew their names on the shirt. They did it on their …… innerwear, as I was told.” Watson had found out Anne’s name that way. “This one is Henry.”

“And……” Chief Constable Lestrade paused there. “Henry?”

“Yes, Sir. Probably nothing, but I found some traces of dried blood.” Watson added. “I did some reading on the signs of blood as part of my training.”

“Do you have any other training, Watson?”

“No, sir. Only the ……”

“Never mind. I was just asking.” Chief Constable Lestrade sighed. How in God’s name was he offered such an angel to this village, and he was made in charge here? The Chief Constable counted his blessings in a very fine manner.