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#Post#: 986--------------------------------------------------
Grim Embrace: The Adventures of Dr. Fraus (1834)
By: MAT Date: February 22, 2025, 1:10 pm
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Character: Rudolph Longstaff
Location: London, England
Year: 1834
Chevman Hall was abuzz with activity. The building, standing an
impressive four stories, looked onto Trinity Square through the
front, and out on the River Thames on the back. Solidly
constructed from grey brick, it was decorated at the entrance,
windows, and balconies by winding ribbons of red that glimmered
in the light cast by torches at the cornerstones. Horse-drawn
carriages arrived and departed under a canopy as the sun
descended behind the London skyline.
The outlandishly large home of a wealthy barrister, Chevman Hall
was hosting the 20th birthday party of Louise Fellowes, a young
woman who had yet to take a husband but was definitely searching
- under pressure from her parents - for someone suitable. As
such, there were no shortage of potential suitors in attendance;
some practically boys, sent by their families, and others men
both young and older, trying to earn the Lady Fellowes’
attention that they might improve their own fortunes. In
addition, there were friends of Louise, friends of the family,
prominent social figures too important to snub, any number of
servants, and at least one uninvited guest.
Rudolph Longstaff had conned his way into the party by posing as
Dr. William J. Fraus, a physician on retainer with Chevman and
Sons. He said that he’d been dispatched to serve on hand for
the event and render medicinal aid, should it be needed. The
maid he encountered emptying a pail of water near one of the
rear entrances wasn’t very tough to convince; she seemed far
more interested in making sure she got her assignments finished.
Once inside, he slipped into the crowd, introducing himself
under the persona and keeping on the lookout for easy marks.
The first hour or two, he merely milled amongst the guests,
snatching errant purses and waistcoat pockets, depositing their
contents into his black leather doctor’s satchel. The
refreshments were, as usual with these kinds of soirees,
delicious. He tried not to drink much, if only because it
dulled his wits, but had no such restraint when it came to
finger sandwiches, little cakes, and meat pastries.
He eventually found a fascinating creature on the third floor;
an alluring young woman by the name of Marie de Charette. Marie
was the daughter of a French diplomat and an English Baroness;
the former of which was in the city for a political conference
to establish a stable government in Greece, and the latter of
which was a pillar of the society scene. As it happened, Marie
was also a friend of Lady Fellowes, though he wasn’t sure they
were as close as de Charette alluded to. After an extended,
intimate conversation with Marie - interrupted later by her
‘intended’ and chaperone, a one Lieutenant William Cardell -
Rudolph discovered that Marie and another one of her friends
shared an affection and interest in the occult. In particular
they found fascinating the mystic arts of divination and
spirit-calling.
Rudolph, his hair bleached blonde and his face obscured by a
fake moustache and sideburns, professed after some basic
questioning, to being the son of a seeress, having inherited
some of her skill. Lieutenant Cardell seemed skeptical, of
course, but Marie was enchanted and insisted on a demonstration.
At first, Rudolph balked - but not too fiercely. Marie assured
him that she could secure a quiet space. Eventually, he was
‘won over’, and agreed to perform a séance.
---
The ‘quiet space’ looked as though it might have been a small
ballroom or conservatory. A grand piano, black and sleek, kept
silent sentry in one corner, next to enormous long curtains that
stretched almost impossibly high. Marble stone columns pressed
through the walls on both sides, connecting the polished tile
floor to the arched ceiling. Why the room wasn’t in use for the
party was a bit of a mystery, but Marie cajoled Lieutenant
Cardell into dragging a circular table from the far wall to the
center of the room, and lining it with chairs.
Almost giddy with excitement, Marie opened a deep navy
tablecloth and cast it out over the table like a net. Then she
and her fiance left to find their friends. Rudolph arranged
five candles from the hallway on the table; each in front of a
chair and each representing the tip of a star. He dug through
his bag for any props that might add to the setting.
Withdrawing a silver plated salt shaker he’d stolen from the
main floor, he unscrewed the cap and then poured out the salt
carefully, ‘drawing’ the lines of the star on the tablecloth
with the grains. From a crystal perfume bottle, he scattered
several drops of a rose oil into the center of the cloth.
When the pair returned, they had three other people in tow; two
men and another young woman. “Come in, come in. I’ve made the
suitable preparations,” he told them. “Please, be seated. Miss
de Charette, if you will,” he continued, opening his palm to
gesture at the empty chair to his left. “And the dashing
Lieutenant?” he went on, moving his hand to aim for the chair to
her left.
In the flickering candlelight, Marie was even more beautiful, it
seemed. The alabaster skin of her face was framed by tight
spiral curls; the rest of her blonde hair was pulled back and
pinned. A wreath adorned her head, fashioned from a golden cord
of silk intertwined with bits of greenery from a garden. The
pale pink dress she was wearing bared her neck and part of her
shoulders, with pleated panels over the collarbone and an
enormous silk rose at the center over the breasts. Both sleeves
were thin near the shoulders but pillowed out at the forearm;
the puffy gigot style that had only recently become fashionable.
“May I introduce Alexander Suffernou, and his wife, my long
friend, Bridgette,” Marie said, allowing William to seat her.
Bridgette was not nearly as pretty as Marie. Her face was
rather plain, and her shoulder-length brown hair was parted at
the center. Rudolph smiled all the same, offering her the seat
at his right. Alexander looked something like a giant in
children’s clothing, towering several inches above everyone.
His movements defied any grace and a prominent brow added to his
brutish appearance. Still, his demeanor stuck Rudolph as rather
timid, and it wasn’t difficult, even with only several seconds
of observation, to tell who was actually in control of that
relationship.
That left only one attendee. The man remained lurking in the
doorway for a few moments, but drew closer once the others had
seated themselves. There was something very distinctive about
him; exotic and mysterious. He cut an impressive figure, and
the cloth of his waistcoat and vest looked to be finer than
almost anyone else’s. Perched upon the bridge of his nose were
a pair of rose-tinted glasses with square lenses; the glasses
obscured his eyes somewhat and the color broke out against the
pale brown-amber of his skin.
“Ah yes! This is Mr. Tamas,” Marie said.
---
Tamas offered a thin-lipped smile. “I hope it’s no disposition
that I join you, *Dr. Fraus*.” His accent was very difficult to
place, but very certainly not native. He pronounced the false
name slowly, almost as if he knew that it was a fake. “I
overheard these young ladies speaking of a spirit-calling
happening upstairs and I found the prospect too fascinating to
pass up. They were kind enough to indulge my curiosity.”
Marie beamed at having recruited this dark stranger. “Mr. Tamas
is an antiquities dealer from the Near-East. He’s in the city
conducting an auction of historic artifacts from a recent
expedition. What adventure,” she marveled.
Rudolph looked across the table at the man, and for a
split-second, his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t put his finger on
why, but somehow he doubted very much that any part of that
particular story was true. He felt as though he was staring
into the face of a tiger lurking in the jungle, prowling and
ready to strike. It sent a small shiver down his spine, but he
merely smiled and gestured at the last remaining chair. “But of
course.”
Tamas bowed his head slightly and sat down. “Just out of
curiosity, ‘Doctor’, where were you educated?” he asked the
young man seated at the head of the table.
The tiniest snort of air escaped Rudolph’s nostrils, as that
question was one of the very first things he researched for the
persona. “Hawkhead Grammar School, then Pembroke College,” he
said with some amusement.
“Pembroke?” the man in the glasses asked. “That’s in…? Excuse
my ignorance, being a foreigner in a foreign land.”
“Cambridge, sir,” came the perfunctory, decidedly less-amused
response.
“Ah yes, Regency Road.”
Rudolph raised an eyebrow. “Trumpington Street, in actuality.
Perhaps you are confused with another landmark, though for a
self-professed foreigner you are remarkably well-informed.”
The other man was undaunted by his failure to rattle the good
doctor, and tried another tack. “What’s your opinion on the
recent cholera outbreak? Are there any cures to be found?”
Tamas pressed.
Rudolph released a sigh, and the wheels in his mind spun.
“Dreadful. Just dreadful,” he muttered, thinking of no shortage
of victims he knew from the streets surrounding the hotel where
he worked and lived. The illness could strike without warning
and kill in just a matter of hours. One of the hotel maids,
Mrs. Mackery, had a baby boy; he fell ill at ten in the morn one
day and by four in the afternoon he was cold and still. Life in
the underclasses of 1830s London was often cruel and
unforgiving. The fact that it could all be snatched away at any
moment was the only thing that made it worth living, though.
“The prevailing theory, I believe,” he said slowly, racing to
remember anything he’d heard anyone say. The only thing he
could recall was something from a newspaper someone left in the
hotel lobby. “States that the disease is carried from person to
person on a poisonous miasma. Thus, eliminating these
malodorous elements should be pursued by anyone fearing they
might have fallen prey.”
The prodding was starting to head in an uncomfortable direction.
He had no problem issuing hoax medical advice, but the more
lies he spun, the more he had to remember. Thankfully, the next
moment he got a reprieve in the form of several disgusted faces
at the table.
---
“Yes, yes, yes; shall we consider such dark and macabre topics
on another occasion and return to the matter at hand?” Marie
said, placing her own gloved hands on the table. The enormous
volume of her silky sleeves nearly swallowed them whole. “How
will this work?” she asked, almost unable to keep still.
Rudolph turned his attention to her almost exclusively. He felt
a deep desire churning in his stomach - and elsewhere; a hungry
want to possess her. The notion that her fiance was sitting
only inches away from her did not seem like a deterrent; if
anything it made the chase all the more challenging and
exciting. “As I told you earlier, my mother conferred to me a
talent through the blood. The spirits live in a place close to
this one, and I can often hear them and even see them just
beyond. If the circumstances are right, I will be able to call
out to them, carrying your questions and receiving answers.”
“*Are* the circumstances right, though?” Tamas piped up; his
tone just shy of challenging. “I’ve always heard that quiet and
serenity is a necessary component in such matters. The
celebration going on downstairs won’t disrupt the affair?” he
asked, sounding as though he knew that it, in fact, would.
“On the contrary,” Rudolph replied firmly and without
hesitation. He addressed the others, ignoring Tamas as if one
of them had asked and not him. “Spirits are creatures of
emotion. The party is filled with excitement. These swings of
passion are like sweet morsels to those beyond death; they are
likely to flock like birds being fed seed.” As far as he knew,
that whole bit was poppycock, but it sounded good. His
confidence in the statement was probably more important than the
actual words, anyhow.
“Yes, I believe I’ve read that somewhere, also,” Bridgette said,
quickly eyeing the others to see if anyone looked impressed.
They didn’t. “What’s the star shape for?” she asked, looking
mildly annoyed.
“It’s a symbol of protection; it mustn’t be disturbed lest we
draw the attention of ill forces. The *further* attention, in
any case,” he joked at Tamas’ expense, quickly moving on. “Now,
unless there are any other general queries, perhaps we’ll begin,
then,” Rudolph said, not waiting for anyone - particularly the
swarthy, bespeckled gentleman - to answer. “Good. The very
first thing we must do is to clear our minds of disruptive
thoughts. Focus on a question you wish to ask the spirits. We
seek them not for novel entertainment, but for knowledge.”
“What should we ask about?” Alexander asked in a voice that was
surprisingly quiet given his large frame.
“Ask them anything your heart desires,” he said, locking eyes
with Marie and smiling. Then he flicked his gaze to Alexander’s
wife, Bridgette. “Yes or no questions are best suited, however.
If the spirits come to us, they may manifest their will on the
physical world in any number of ways. We will have to be
keen-eyed and -eared for signs of their presence, no matter how
odd they may seem.”
“What exactly might these ‘signs’ manifest as?” Tamas asked,
with a small note of incredulity.
The doctor reached up, resisting the urge to run a hand across
his scalp in frustration. He was worried about disturbing the
wig, and instead lightly traced the thin mustache glued to his
upper lip. “It’s impossible to say for certain. Perhaps a
sound, a strange smell, movement of objects. You should not
expect a clear, straightforward answer to your questions. The
spirits do not communicate the same way that humans communicate
with each other. ”
“I read a story once about a séance that ended when the table
began to levitate,” Tamas said, turning his head to instill the
idea in the heads of the other participants.
“Sounds like a load of rubbish,” Rudy said gruffly. A moment
later, though, he thought better of it. “But! We shouldn’t
discount anything, no matter how bizarre.”
---
“If everyone has placed in the fore of their minds a question,
let’s join hands - to empower the circle,” Rudolph added a
heartbeat later, to silence anyone asking for what purpose. He
smiled again, taking Marie’s right hand with his left, and
Bridgette’s left with his right. Similarly, the others joined
hands. Alexander made a small, momentary expression of surprise
when he took Tamas’ hand, though it wasn’t immediately obvious
why. Notably he was the only person not wearing gloves
“Now close your eyes,” Rudolph said, waiting until everyone had
done so to go on. He couldn’t be sure if Tamas had closed his
eyes; the glasses caught flickering light from the candles and
the tint made it impossible to tell. A tall, grandfather clock
on one of the interior walls suddenly let out a deep chiming.
Rudolph felt Marie jump slightly, and gave her hand a gentle
squeeze in response. The loud, rhythmic intonation sounded once,
twice, then continued until the ninth time, falling silent.
“How fortunate. The hour between nine and ten has special
significance in the spirit realms,” the charlatan told the
others in a soft voice, making up that bit on the fly. “Worlds
draw closer to one another and the mind opens to new potentials.
I will begin now. Has anyone experienced a recent loss?”
“Yes, me,” Marie said. Rudolph did his best to keep a smile
from reaching his face. “My grandmother on my father’s side,
Ophelie.”
“Our beloved Ophelie de Charette, we bring you the gift of warm
greetings from life unto death. Commune with us, Ophelie, and
move among us. Commune with us, and move among us,” he
repeated.
The room fell quiet, and only the gentle murmur from the party
on the floors below could be heard. The seconds passed, and
Rudolph could feel Marie’s hand fidgeting slightly. He lifted
his index finger and stroked the top of her knuckles, and to his
mild surprise and delight, she made no effort to withdraw or
escape the attention.
“How long shall we wait for her?” Tamas asked sharply, partly to
agitate the séance but also to disrupt the flirtation going on
at the other side of the table. “Perhaps she is not the one
interested in your ‘sweet morsels’,” he joked dryly.
“Shhhh!” Bridgette scolded him. “If you aren’t open to this
possibility then perhaps you should leave!” she hissed in a
stage whisper. Lieutenant Cardell and Alexander both opened
their eyes, fixing concerned expressions first at one another,
then towards Tamas.
“No, no, it’s all right,” Rudolph murmured. “Please, it’s all
right,” he reassured. “This can be a trying ordeal. Let us all
close our eyes once more. I...I sense a presence approaching.”
He put a light inflection of excitement into his tone to sell
the act. “Yes! Something comes.”
---
“I sense a woman. She is advanced in age, her hair...hm, her
hair is grey. She speaks, and I hear, but I cannot make out the
words. She is calling out for someone.” He murmured something
under his breath. “*Petite fille*?” His French was hardly
fluent, but he’d learned more than a fair amount from a Parisian
prostitute.
“*Mamie*!” Marie cried out. “*Mamie*, it’s me, your
granddaughter! *Mamie*, are you well? Oh, I miss you…”
For a brief moment, Rudolph felt the smallest twinge of guilt
over the apparently genuine expression of emotion to a dead
relative. He’d never known his father and his mother was
nothing more than a hazy memory and a shallow, unmarked grave.
The very idea of a grandparent was alien to him. The moment
passed, though, and he nodded.
“She hears your voice. She...she seems upset? Yes, yes she is
cross with you,” he said, sounding reluctant to admit it. Just
then, he decided to give the experience a bit of depth. Using
the circle as a focus for his will, he muttered something
quietly and cast a small spell.
“What was that?” Alexander said. Noises like pebbles spilling
out of a jar echoed softly in the shadowy recesses of the room.
The noise mutated and distorted, growing steadily louder.
“No...I shouldn’t. I do not want to convey that message,”
Rudolph said, not to anyone at the table, but to the supposed
ghost.
“What is it?” Bridgette demanded, almost leering at the drama.
“Please, you must tell me!” Marie pleaded.
“She...does not approve.”
“Of what?” Marie asked. “What can I have done to displease
her?”
Rudolph swallowed, hesitating again. “Of your husband-to-be.”
Lieutenant Cardell gasped. “This is outrageous! I w-” he
began, but was abruptly silenced. The strange bumping noise in
the darkness changed suddenly, becoming a series of pained,
drawn-out moans followed by anguished screeching.
Anxious expressions played out on all the faces at the table
except one. Even William was put at a loss to argue against the
apparent disfavor of his future bride’s grandmother. The only
unafraid participant - aside from the ringleader of this little
circus, of course - was the mysterious Tamas.
#Post#: 987--------------------------------------------------
Re: Grim Embrace: The Adventures of Dr. Fraus (1834)
By: MAT Date: February 22, 2025, 1:12 pm
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Tamas had raised both eyebrows behind his tinted glasses, either
surprised or impressed at the display of actual supernatural
phenomenon. The source was obvious, and he’d finally confirmed
what he’d suspected from the start - that the entire thing was a
fraud. Smiling faintly, he decided to turn the table on ‘Dr.
Fraus’, figuratively if not literally, perhaps just to see how
he would react. His mastery of illusions far exceeded that of
the young man sitting across from him.
Without warning, the table began to rattle. Then a loud bang
sounded, as if someone or something was pounding it violently
from beneath. Bridgette let out a small shriek as a sharp gust
of wind rushed through the room. The star shape drawn on the
tablecloth with salt appeared to blow away in several places,
further intensifying the phantasms.
“The protective barrier!” Tamas called out, doing his best not
to look supremely entertained by the spectacle. The flames from
the candles twisted and warped, stretching impossibly long. The
cries in the darkness surrounding them were joined by a chorus
of angry voices: a smear of unintelligible gibbering.
The other participants’ anxiousness had turned to true fear, and
this time, Rudolph joined them in the sentiment. He had no idea
what was happening, but he knew that he wasn’t in control
anymore. He didn’t really believe in ghosts, but someone or
*something* had taken his relatively simple ruse and turned it
into something else entirely.
“Dr. Fraus?” Alexander said with some panic, keeping his eyes
squeezed shut. “Doctor, you must do something. Send the evil
spirit away.”
“*Mamie*, I will not do it!” Marie promised, as if the pledge
would quell the riotous poltergeist. “I will not!”
Rudolph could barely feel his fingers from the vice grips of the
women on either side of him. “Now is done, leave in peace,” he
said, almost drowned out by the din. “Now is done, leave in
peace; now is done, leave in peace!” he bellowed, rising up out
of his chair.
Then, like a thunderclap, a silence rushed in to fill the air in
the room. The wind stilled, the voices were squelched, the
pounding on the table stopped, and the flames from the candles
died down to their normal, tiny licks of light. For several
long moments, nobody said anything. They all seemed dazed;
transfixed by what had just happened.
“Well.” Tamas broke the silence, releasing his hold on the
hands to his sides. “It seems the circumstances <i>were</i>
conducive to the enterprise. I’ve seen enough for one evening,
I should think,” he added, rising to his feet. For a moment, he
looked at the rattled Rudolph, then smirked. “Well done,
doctor. You’ve made a believer out of me,” he said with a deep
chuckle as he turned to depart.
---
Alexander stood up. “That was...ah.”
“Very exciting,” Bridgette finished for him, rising to her feet
as well. “Thank you, doctor. I am feeling faint, I think I
would like to get something to drink.” She cast a sideways
glance at Marie and William; the former looked distressed, while
the latter looked irate. “Let’s go, dear,” she said to
Alexander, holding out her arm for him to take.
“Yes, ah...” Rudolph was feeling a mixture of emotions. He was
very confused and did not know what to make of what had
happened. Maybe there really were spirits - or other things -
in the great beyond, but he had never actually brought them
forth before. His sorcerous skills were slapdash and
self-taught; a scattering of individual spells without much in
the way of training or cohesion. Maybe this was the next
evolution, though - casting a voice to the ways of the dead.
Or maybe it was just some kind of fluke. Either way, he could
see that the experience had produced an effect between the
engaged couple that might still be favorable to him. Despite
his concupiscence for Marie, he forced himself to be patient.
“I’m...going to follow Mrs. Suffernou’s example and get
something to drink.”
He left the ballroom and stepped out into the hallway, closing
the door quietly behind him. He took his medicine bag but
purposefully left behind his cane so that in any eventuality he
would have a plausible reason to return. Then he waited. It
was tough; he was anxious and bluntly put - ****. He could hear
muffled arguing drifting through the door, mixing with the
orchestral music and laughter from the floors below. Then, the
door handle turned.
Ducking around a corner, Rudolph flattened his back against the
hallway wall and slowly inched out his face, chancing a glance.
He saw William Cardell leaving the ballroom in what looked to be
an angry huff, practically stomping down the stairs. Leaning
back, he checked his reflection in a mirror, straightening his
tie, smoothing out his moustache, and brushing whatever
particulate - real or imaginary - was on the shoulders of his
waistcoat. Then he waited five more seconds - unable to wait
ten - and returned to the ballroom.
---
When he opened the door, he found Marie sitting at the table;
head buried in her gloved hands, crying. He noticed that the
candles had all been snuffed out, leaving only the few sconces
on the marble columns. This had the effect of creating a small
dark space over the séance table. He closed the door behind him
and approached slowly.
“I’m...sorry to interrupt, Miss de Charette. I realized I had
forgotten my walking cane. Are...are you all right?” he asked,
reaching into his breast pocket to produce a handkerchief. She
looked up sharply, clearly surprised, and stood from the table,
sniffling in an effort to compose herself.
“I apologize for my emotional outburst. I...I shouldn’t
even...be speaking to you. If anyone saw…” she said, glancing
down at the floor suddenly.
He shook his head and smiled. “You needn’t worry about that.
There’s nobody else here,” he said, drawing closer.
“What...what happened?” he asked.
“The engagement is off,” she said, reaching out to take the
square cloth before dabbing it at her eyes.
“No!” he said with a soft gasp. “Lieutenant Cardel is a fool if
he walked out on such a lovely, intelligent creature.” He cast
his magical influence out again, trying to wrap her in a web of
fascination. His skill with the sorcerous art wasn’t as strong
as some of his other abilities; sometimes it was difficult to
tell if it was even working at all. But a little nudge here and
a little nudge there - especially at pivotal points, like, say
when someone was vulnerable - could make all the difference.
Marie continued leveling her gaze at the tiles. “I was the one
who broke it off.”
By this point, Rudolph was standing just a pace away. “Perhaps
you were fated to meet someone else,” he said. He reached out
with his hand, gently lifting her chin up. “Someone of
standing. Someone who can appreciate all your many virtues.
Who finds himself completely spellbound by your beauty.”
---
The party continued apace well into the evening hours.
Champagne and other liquors flowed like water from a spring; a
stark contrast to the destitute only blocks away who scrabbled
and scratched to stave off starvation. William Cardell had
spent almost an hour of that time in one of the drawing rooms of
the mansion, ignoring the party-goers and basically brooding.
Eventually, he tipped back his fourth glass of wine and started
trudging up the marble staircase, determined to swallow his
pride and prostrate himself before the woman he loved.
On the fourth floor, he paused in front of the ballroom door,
squinting at the muted noises that were pressing through.
Reaching out, he twisted the handle and pushed the door open.
“My dearest Marie, I’ve been so foolish and rash…” The last
word died in his throat, coming out as little more than a
squelched hiss. The color drained from his face. Marie was
facedown on the table, and Rudolph was standing immediately
behind her. For a moment, William was stunned into silence; he
didn’t really understand what he was looking at. Rudolph
extricated himself, adjusting his trousers, and Marie stood up,
looking similarly shocked.
Then William’s face twisted into a mask of rage.
Marie backed up a pace, bumping into the man she’d just been
entangled with. Then her expression steeled, either from
desperation or just practice. “William! Thank God!” she
shrieked in a blood-curdling tone. Her puffy eyes, bloodshot
from before, welled up with tears again. “Please, please help
me! He was forcing his way with me!”
Now it was Rudolph’s turn to look shocked. “That’s…” He
flicked his gaze to the Lieutenant, who had very clearly already
accepted Marie’s word as fact, despite the reality being
entirely different. That her scenario would entirely morally
absolve him of violence was probably a factor, but it didn’t
matter. “*Really convincing*,” he murmured to her. “*I guess
we’ve found two things you’re good at.*”
William’s right hand slapped over to his left waist, where a
scabbard accompanied the rest of his military uniform. With a
single motion and a sharp sound of metal scraping against metal,
he withdrew a sword whose silver surface gleamed in the candle
light. “I’m going to run you through,” he threatened the doctor
with a heavy exhaled breath, consumed with fury.
A retort rose to Rudolph’s tongue, but he opted to act instead
of speak, following Marie’s lead in terms of shameless
self-preservation. He braced both hands against Marie’s
shoulders and gave her a vicious shove, sending her toppling
towards Lieutenant Cardell. The officer was caught off-guard
and scrambled to catch her. Meanwhile, snatching his cane and
medical case, Rudolph dashed towards the balcony doors,
disappearing behind the long, gauzy curtains.
---
He pulled the doors shut behind him, but he didn’t expect that
to slow down his pursuer. The summer night air was brisk, and
deep smoke from the city’s many furnaces blotted out much of the
full moon’s light. Looking around, he spotted his exit and
climbed onto the thick stone railing of the balcony. Just then,
the doors opened, and he leapt with all his strength.
Where he’d stood seconds before, a metal blade glanced off the
stonework, creating an awful noise and a shower of sparks.
Rudolph, momentarily airborne, had aimed himself towards the
balcony in the adjacent room. He didn’t have nearly enough
strength to make that jump, though, and instead took a gamble on
landing on the one below it. Reaching out, he snagged the upper
balcony’s ribbon adornments with the handle of his cane. The
effort created two effects; first, it blunted his downward
motion slightly, causing him to land on the lower balcony’s
railing with a little less force than he would have otherwise.
Secondly, it tore the ribbon and shattered off the handle of his
cane.
The handle and shaft of the walking stick twirled out of his
hand, spiraling down to shatter against the paving stones near
the street. A pair of doormen were nearly struck by the debris,
and looked up, shouting angrily. Rudolph had collided with the
top of the stone balcony and tumbled off of it, landing on his
shoulder next to an identical set of glass doors. He was
obscured from view, but the doormen looked up just in time to
see William Cardell searching over the balcony with a sword in
his hand and a bezerk look about him.
The impacts had been jarring, and he was certain to feel it
later, but adrenaline was surging through his system and Rudy
got to his feet. He was lucky not to have sprained or broken
anything, but then he’d always been a bit lucky. He rapped hard
against the glass of the door, rewarded by the surprised face
of a male partygoer, who pushed through the curtains and
unlocked it for him.
“Thank the saints! I stepped outside to get a bit of fresh
air,” he said to the man, a bit out of breath from the exertion.
“Somehow the door locked behind me. You’re a good chap,” he
added, patting the man on the shoulder and swiftly moving past
him. He rushed through the crowded drawing room, eliciting tiny
noises of surprise and drawing eyes. When he reached the
hallway and the main stairwell, he picked up his pace, taking
the steps two at a time. He didn’t even bother to look back,
where Lieutenant Cardell was rushing after.
“There’s a madman with a sword upstairs! I think he’s crazed by
drink and drug!” Rudolph shouted to anybody who would listen,
creating a cloud of confusion in his wake. When William
appeared at the top of the marble staircase mere seconds later,
still gripping the weapon, members of the crowd gasped and
shocked; one woman even fainted.
Two brave souls grabbed William’s arms, and the ensuing struggle
gave Rudolph a large enough lead that he blitzed unmolested
through the foyer and out through the front door, held open even
by one of the men he’d nearly hit with his falling cane. With
one hand holding down his hat, he sprinted against the
cobblestone, heading up Seething Street, down Jewry Lane, and
across Whitechapel Road onto Ghoulston. Ducking into an alley,
he finally slowed his frantic pace to a jog, then a walk, and
then stopped entirely, sucking in air and bracing his hands
against his aching sides.
Unfortunately, he’d merely traded one pursuer for another.
---
“You’ve put on quite a show.”
Alarmed by the unseen presence behind him, Rudolph spun around.
Standing nearly on top of him was Tamas; the irritant from the
séance. Before he could even utter the questions of how and why
that seemed to tumble to the fore of his mind like a logjam,
Tamas’ hand shot out and wrapped around his throat, lifting him
several inches off the ground by his chin.
“But it’s time for the curtain to fall, so Act Two can begin,”
the man in the rose-colored glasses growled menacingly. Behind
his lips, long sharp fangs slid down into place. Rudolph tried
to push against the other figure; tried to struggle, but it was
like being held in place by a piece of iron.
Tamas sunk his teeth into the side of Rudolph’s neck, plunging
them deep beneath the skin. All the fight went out of the
mortal man at that moment, and he found his mind and heart
completely submersed in a sort of ecstasy he could not even
imagined possible. It was better than drink, better than opium,
better than sex. His eyes rolled back slightly, lids fluttering
- his limbs went slack. Somewhere, somewhere off in the deep,
dark corner of the pleasure he was feeling, there was a pain.
It was so small, though. So easy to let drift away.
A tremendous banging noise sounded from behind Tamas,
accompanied by a light strobing in the darkness. Surprised, the
vampire let go of his prey and spun around to look, sending
Rudolph tumbling down into the wet, grime-slicked alley in a
heap. Down the alley, a drunkard had come slamming through his
hovel door, swinging the lantern in his hand erratically.
Rudy’s head cleared, and the pain from his injuries shocked him
into action. With an act of pure willpower, he wove his hands
through the air in front of him. Tamas turned back to find jets
of red-orange flame rushing upwards. Panicked at the sight of
so much deadly fire in such close proximity, he hissed and leapt
backwards, shielding his face and head with the black fabric of
his heavy cloak.
A few moments later, when his wits recovered enough for him to
look back, the spot on the alley floor was empty, save for a few
scrape marks and desperate footsteps driven into the muck.
There was no smell of smoke or ozone in the air; no part of him
was burned or even singed. He’d been fooled by an illusion; a
play of light and imagination that paled in comparison to his
own skills, and yet had succeeded against the odds.
The vampire smiled - he had to, really. No other expression
would suffice. Behind the tinted lenses, though, his eyes
blazed with anger.
---
Rudolph stumbled up the weathered stone walkway to the Friendly
Bell Hotel. He didn’t ring the rusty bronze bell for luck; he
was so tired he could barely make his limbs move, and he felt
like he’d used up enough luck as it was that evening. Ascending
the steps, he crossed the threadbare red carpeting and entered
his room, letting the door drift shut behind him. He sat down
on the bed, but didn’t light a candle. All he wanted to do was
sleep, and several moments later he passed out.
The next morning, he felt like he’d been struck by a carriage.
In the mirror by his desk, he shed the blonde wig; it had
already gone askew. Where his hat had landed, he had no idea.
Slowly, he peeled off the sideburns and moustache that had been
pasted to his face with glue. He didn’t even really care about
the redness of skin that their removal left behind, because
there was something far more worrisome.
In the light of day, he saw what he thought he had only
imagined; what he thought had just been an exhaustion or fever
dream. Nightmare, really. Two puncture wounds on his neck were
surrounded by purple-black bruising and caked with blood,
matching the finger-shaped bruises on his neck.
As far as he knew, vampires were just some weird Prussian myth;
a tale told to scare children from staying out too late or
walking lonely, dark lanes. But then, magic was a myth to most,
too. And spirits. Staring into his own eyes, Rudolph looked a
little afraid for a moment. But only a moment. Then he just
shrugged. If he’d really encountered a vampire, it just made
his escape all the more thrilling. If there was no risk, then
why bother playing the game...
*****************************************************