Dracula Ascending (Gothic Horror Mash-up)

by Cindy Winget

  In the weeks that followed, Victor made a remarkable recovery, much to the pleasure and relief of the men aboard the ship. Victor was a changed man. No longer did he have bouts of depression or stare off into the sea in meditative silence as he once had. He played cards, told daring tales that he read about with his friend Henry as a boy, and pulled his weight with the chores expected of any good sailor, endearing himself to the men. And everywhere he went, he carried a silver box, never letting it out of his sight. The men would often whisper to each other in their bunks at night as to what was so important that Victor felt the need to never part with it. The running suspicion was that it had something to do with his sweetheart, whom the men had come to know was taken in death upon Victor’s wedding night. But if a man were to inquire after this box, Victor would only shake his head and claim that it was a long story meant for another time.

  When they put into port in Europe and Victor disembarked, Robert wouldn’t let him leave without the promise that he would write on a regular basis. Victor promised, patting his friend upon the shoulder, and was then lost in the crowd.

  Initially, Victor had been tempted to throw the box overboard, but he knew that he would not be able to rest; constantly wondering if Dracula had reanimated. So, he had retained the box, checking on it every day of the voyage to make sure that it still contained the last remains of the monster he had created. After these many weeks, he no longer had any doubts that the fiend was truly gone. Even so, he determined to bury it when he got home, and upon the anniversary of Dracula’s demise each year he would check upon the box and make certain that it had not been disturbed. Besides, he would not allow himself to forget the past. His pilgrimage to Dracula’s resting place would be a constant reminder to remain vigilant in his pursuit for self-improvement, and would check him if ever he began again to become too ambitious.

  Upon his return to Geneva, Victor procured a silver cross and had it affixed upon the large snuff box containing Dracula’s ashes. He couldn’t bring himself to bury it in a local cemetery, among decent folk, so he made a special trip to the valley of Chamounix and climbed to the summit of Mount Montanvert. It seemed fitting to bury the box here, away from society and in the place where they had had their first conversation. He added dirt to the ashes, taken from the unholy grounds given over by the church for the burial of suicides or unbaptized children. He also added a clove of fresh garlic and would bring some each time he visited this plot of ground.

  Victor looked down upon the newly disturbed dirt, sighing with a mixture of sorrow and relief as he contemplated all that had transpired over the course of the last few years of his life. Tears streamed from his eyes as he dwelt on the deaths of little William, Justine, Henry, Lucy, and his dear Elizabeth. So much loss. So much life wasted. Victor had intended to bring forth life and yet, in so doing, countless innocent people had lost their lives.

  Epilogue

  “This court is now back in session,” the judge intoned, bringing his gavel down. Looking toward the prosecutor, he added, “You may call your next witness.”

  “May I approach the bench?” the defense attorney asked.

  The judge nodded his consent and the lawyer advanced toward him. “If it please, Your Honor, I would like to move that the charge of disturbing the peace against my client be

  ‘dismissed on the grounds—”

  “Motion denied,” growled the judge. “We will leave it up to the jury whether there is enough evidence to convict him of those charges.”

  With a nod of the head and not a peep of argument, the defense attorney sat back down at his table.

  “I would like to call a Mister Bixler to the stand, Your Honor,” said the prosecutor.

  A small, slightly bent man in his late fifties arose and came shuffling up to the witness stand. Placing his right hand upon a bible, Mister Bixler swore to “tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, or so help me God.” When he was finished, he looked expectantly at the prosecutor.

  “Can you please tell the court your profession?”

  “I am a coroner in the city of Geneva, Switzerland.”

  “You examined the body of Mrs. Elizabeth Frankenstein, did you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you find was the cause of her death?”

  “Asphyxiation through strangulation.”

  “On the night of April 16, 1838 did you also perform an autopsy on William Frankenstein?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Can you please tell the court what his cause of death was?”

  “Asphyxiation through strangulation.”

  “Objection!” growled the defense attorney. “This court is not interested in the cause of death of William Frankenstein, unless the prosecutor is suggesting that Victor killed his brother while he was thousands of miles away at the time.”

  “Sustained. Let that last part be stricken from the record,” replied the judge.

  “No further questions,” said the prosecutor.

  “You may cross-examine the witness if desired,” the judge told the defense attorney who declined. “Very well, then call your next witness.”

  “I would like to call Professor Abraham Van Helsing to the stand.”

  Van Helsing arose from his seat and walked carefully to the witness stand. When he was situated and sworn in, the defense attorney asked, “What exactly are you a professor of, Mister Van Helsing?”

  “I am a professor of human anatomy,” Van Helsing replied.

  “Is it true that you are the professor who taught Victor Frankenstein about Galvanism which led to his idea for bringing people back from the dead?”

  “Actually, I believe Victor was trying to create life, not resurrect deceased peoples. But semantics aside, yes, I am indeed the one who first introduced to Victor the new and somewhat controversial concept of Galvanism, which led to his rather unorthodox experiment.”

  “Can you tell me when you first realized that Victor had succeeded in his pursuit?”

  “Certainly. We were in England and there was a young woman who had fallen ill. Her new groom had asked that I come and attend to her. I did so gladly. Her symptoms were quite bizarre and—”

  “In what way?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “In what way were the young lady’s symptoms bizarre?” clarified the attorney.

  “She was severely anemic and in want of a blood transfusion even though she had sustained no discernable wound which would cause that much blood loss. It all became clear, however, when it was discovered that she did, in fact, have a wound. Two small puncture marks in her carotid artery.”

  “How would they account for the blood loss she had sustained?”

  “She had been attacked by a vampyr.”

  Several gasps were heard from the audience.

  “A vampyr, you say?”

  “As fantastical as that sounds, I assure you that I have done extensive research on vampirism, and Miss Westenra had all the classic signs of having fallen victim to a vampyr.”

  “And what bearing does this have on Victor Frankenstein’s experiment?”

  “Mister Frankenstein later confessed to me, as well as two others, that he had been the one to create this vampyr.”

  “How?”

  “Well, you see, he had robbed dozens of fresh graves and cobbled them together into the form of a man. With the use of electricity, he succeeded in quickening the body and granting it life. He had used the bones of his infamous maternal ancestor, Vlad the Impaler, in his work, and there is a prophecy long supposed in Romania that should Vlad III’s grave be disturbed, he would arise from said grave as an undead creature known as a vampyr.”

  “And you believed this mythical tale of Victor’s?”

  “Absolutely. I saw the evidence of Dracula’s dastardly work upon the fair Lucy Westenra, and then later witnessed with my own eyes the sucking of blood from another woman. A Mrs. Mina Harker who is sitting right over there.” Van Helsing ges
ticulated toward the wooden benches in the back of the courtroom where sat a young woman with dark hair next to her presumed husband. Each juror turned his or head in Mrs. Harker’s direction, causing her to blush becomingly.

  “I also witnessed the changing of Lucy from a vibrant young woman into a vampyr herself.”

  “And where is she now?”

  “In her grave. Put there by myself, Victor, and some friends of ours.”

  “And you believe that this vampyr whom Victor created is responsible for the death of Elizabeth Frankenstein and Henry Clerval—the two victims Victor stand’s accused of murdering?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor.”

  As Van Helsing took his seat, the judge asked, “Are there any more witnesses or evidence to be presented?”

  When both attorneys shook their heads, he continued. “In that case, each attorney will give his closing arguments and we will adjourn once more to await a decision from the jury. The prosecution may begin their summation whenever they are ready.”

  After clearing his throat, the prosecutor stood and walked to the jury box. “Victor Frankenstein stands accused of three crimes: Grave robbery, disturbing the peace, and possible homicide or manslaughter charges. As to the first, Victor has admitted more than once to this court that he, in fact, performed the macabre deed of stealing into cemeteries at night, desecrating the graves of people’s loved ones, and stealing their organs.

  “He claims that he needed these organs in order to grant life. But where is this supposed man he created? Why has he not come forward? Victor would have you believe that it is because he is a vampyr and is the actual one responsible for these brutal murders.” The prosecutor scoffed at this. “A vampyr? Really? I thought in this enlightened age we would be well past belief in these kinds of folktales. Isn’t it more likely that Victor performed these murders himself? Did he not have a close personal relationship with both of the victims? Henry Clerval was his best friend and Elizabeth was his new bride! It makes more sense to my understanding of human behavior that perhaps he was jealous of Henry. Perhaps Henry also liked Elizabeth. So, Victor murdered Henry in order to win Elizabeth’s affections. Maybe Elizabeth found out what Victor had done so he felt that he had no other recourse but to kill her as well.”

  Victor was clenching his hands into fists. Lies! Complete and utter lies! He leaned over to his defense attorney and whispered in his ear, “Why don’t you object!? He is making things up!”

  “It is not typical or encouraged to object during a summation,” the attorney whispered back. “Don’t worry, Victor. It will be our turn next, and I will set the record straight.”

  In the meantime, the prosecutor continued, “Victor himself mentioned that the ‘creature’ he gave life to had murdered his little brother, William. Hmmm…now why would he say that, when it has already been established in Geneva that his brother was murdered by his nursemaid and the sentence has already been carried out? Very interesting. I would like to note that as my witness, Mister Bixler, attested to, both William and Elizabeth died the same way. Asphyxiation by strangulation. Why would a vampyr strangle his victims? Why not drink their blood? Not even Henry Clerval’s body was drained of blood. Oh no, he bled quite profusely at the end. Seems odd behavior for a vampyr, don’t you think?”

  There were a few murmurs among the members of the jury.

  “And if this supposed vampyr, brought back to life, was the actual cause of these murders, then as his creator, should not Victor still bear the responsibility of his guilt? After all, it is because of him that this ‘undead creature’ was spawned and allowed to perform these acts. Murder which would not have taken place if not for Victor’s experiment into the human condition.

  “Mister Van Helsing may believe these tales, but I have looked into the city records, and they state that Lucy Westenra died of a wasting disease, not because of a vampyr.”

  A single tear rolled down Victor’s cheek, for even though he did not wish to spend the rest of his days in prison, he maintained it was his fault that his friends and family were murdered, and his responsibility for all the things Dracula had done.

  However, he felt that rather than languish in jail for the rest of his life, his time would be better spent, and society better served, by becoming a better person and making contributions to the world as restitution. He had already suffered greatly for his crimes and he was already reformed. He already spent many hours a day in prayer and supplication to God for repentance of his sins. Should that not also appease his neighbors? He strived to help all those he saw in need of a helping hand, and he would continue to do so until he left this life.

  “As to the charge of disturbing the peace, patriotic Britons rioted against Victor when they discovered the gruesome scene in his laboratory. The defense attorney will try to get you to believe that Victor was not responsible for the riot because he was not there when the riot broke out, but I beg to differ. The riot was a direct result of Victor’s choices. It was because of his grisly work that these men and women caused such a raucous. Now who here, upon witnessing the work of a Resurrectionist wouldn’t have rioted? It goes against our very nature to see such work being performed and to do nothing about it. While in the course of the riot, Victor returned, and in an attempt to save his ghastly half-formed man, he resorted to assault.

  “Now, is this the kind of man you want to remain free to walk about on our streets? Is not the evidence and witness testimony against Victor enough to show what kind of monster he is? It is up to you, the jury, to see that justice is done. Justice for Henry Clerval, Elizabeth Frankenstein, and perhaps even William Frankenstein, whose lives were cut short by this man.”

  The prosecutor bowed his head in a show of great emotion that Victor felt sure was staged. “I leave that up to you. That is all.” He walked slowly back to his table as if in a trance of melancholy.

  “Showtime,” the defense attorney whispered, winking at Victor as he stood and made his way to the jury box, buttoning his morning coat as he did so. “It is true that Victor has admitted to graverobbing. And although in his right mind—as has already been established by the prosecution—at the time he carried out these graverobbing, I propose that Victor was a victim of circumstance,” the attorney said, pacing back and forth in front of the jury as he spoke. “Yes, the act of desecrating a grave is loathsome, but need I remind you that even with the Anatomy Act of 1832, there is still a high demand for fresh bodies for the express purpose of learning and understanding human anatomy in order to help others live a long and prosperous life? Was not Victor’s heart in the right place for wanting to bring back our loved ones from the grave? I have no doubt that, had there been any legal way for Victor to gain the necessary parts he needed for his project, he would have.

  “And let us not forget that the definition of graverobbing is stealing jewelry and other valuables from deceased persons. Victor did not engage in this petty thievery. Therefore, under that definition, the law can have no claim upon my client.

  “Furthermore, he can not be charged for disturbing the peace, for he was not even there! How could he have instigated a riot without his presence? His very absence absolves him of these charges, for it is upon the heads of the Britons who began the riot. When he returned for his things, he was viciously attacked by the uncaring throng and he tried to defend himself. That does not constitute disturbing the peace.”

  “As to the most heinous crime of murder. I still maintain Victor’s creation was the actual perpetrator. Though the prosecutor will have you believe that Victor bears his creation’s crimes upon his own shoulders—or that even Victor himself has murdered these victims—I say to you that this simply isn’t true. Victor did not kill these people. As his brother testified early on in the trial regarding his character, he was beloved by both Henry and Elizabeth. There was absolutely no animosity between them. No motive for Victor to have murdered them. What’s more, the way that Henry was killed
—by impalement; was that not the way that Vlad Dracula historically killed his victims? As to Victor’s brother, William. His death should have no bearing upon these proceedings, for as the prosecutor himself stated, his death has already been assigned to another and her sentence carried out. The judge himself has already explicitly told the prosecutor that William’s death should be stricken from the record of this trial, and yet he insists on bringing it up. Fine. Because Victor has brought it up earlier himself, I will reveal to this court that, while William’s cause of death was asphyxiation, it was also ascertained that his blood was drained and there were two puncture wounds upon his neck.”

  This got a reaction from the jury, who began to murmur and were told to quiet down by the judge.

  “Dracula, although created by Victor Frankenstein, still had his own free will. He made his own choices, knowing good from evil, as any of us are left to make those same choices and suffer the consequences of those choices. Should God be responsible for all of our sins because he created us? No? Well then why should Victor bear the consequences for the sins of another simply because he created him? That will be all, Your Honor.”

  Conversation broke out in the courtroom as the jury was dismissed to collaborate and deliberate on the verdict. Victor wished he could wander back to the benches and speak with Ernest and his friends, as this may be his last opportunity before being forever incarcerated behind bars, but alas, he had to remain where he was.

  It took nearly three hours for the jury to finally walk back into the courtroom. Sweat glistened upon Victor’s forehead and slicked palms. Victor gazed into the face of each juror as they came walking back to their seat, trying to gauge how they felt about his crimes through their expressions. It was an exercise in futility, however, except for a woman who had a smile upon her face—and she had smiled throughout the entire trial—the rest looked as somber as though they were attending a funeral.