by Lucas Thorn
Lucy stared at the ribbon in awe. “My Queen…”
Vasilja rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t call her that, Lucy. Her name is Senka. If you keep calling her a queen, she’ll start acting like one. As if she doesn’t already. No. It just won’t do. Call her Senka, please. If you don’t, I’ll take my ribbon back, I swear.”
Behind them, Renfield shut the door to keep the morning glow at bay.
Smiled as the three Brides converged and exchanged formal kisses.
Looked to Dimiti and grinned.
“Forget about it,” Dimiti grunted. “I ain’t kissing you.”
“When shall we three meet again? Oft shall glowing hope expire. Oft shall wearied love retire. Oft shall Death and Sorrow reign, ere we three shall meet again.” He giggled as Lucy led the way upstairs. “Hoo hoo, ho ho. Rabbits and mice, my friend. Rabbits and mice.”
EPILOGUE
It took four of them to carry the body to the morgue.
“Christ, the bastard must weigh more than my mother,” the eldest groaned as they went up the steps.
“He’s not that big, Morris,” one of the others said, but his face was red and sweat left his hair plastered to his scalp.
“He’s big enough.”
“Stinks, too. What is that, you think?”
“Garlic.”
“You sure? Smells worse than that.” They wrestled the body through the door. Paused inside as their eyes adjusted to the darker light.
The front desk was unattended.
The four men glanced at each other, unsure who was going to take lead.
The tallest, a spreading bruise across his jaw and cheek from where the beast had hit him, seemed to accept he’d have to do the talking. “Doesn’t look like the doc is in.”
“Best ring the bell, Pete. You know. Be sure?”
“Could just leave him here.”
“Don’t be an ass, Terrance.” Pete rolled his shoulders and stepped boldly up to the desk. Picked up the bell and gave it a quick ring.
They waited.
Breathing slow.
Silence.
Terrance put in quietly; “Maybe we should go, eh?”
“Yeah.” Morris looked to the door. “No harm to leave him here. Doc’ll sort him out.”
“What’s this?” A humourless voice asked loudly, causing all four policemen to start. “Another body?”
The four men turned to the woman.
Short, with stout shoulders and dressed in a stained apron. Stained not with the work of cleaning house, but old blood and assorted liquids wiped from her hands. Liquids from the corpses she worked with.
“Oh, Miss,” Pete said, touching his hat politely. “Didn’t see you come in. Is the doc in? We’ve got one for him. Male.”
She strode over to the shrouded form. Nodded down at it. “Looks a bit big. What was he? Dock worker?”
“No, Miss.” Morris took a step away from her. “That’s the Ripper himself, that is.”
“The Ripper? You finally caught him?”
“Inspector blew his brains out all over the place,” Morris said. Then caught himself. “I mean, sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, Miss. It weren’t right of me.”
She ignored him, reaching down to pull the sheet off the body.
And caught her breath hard.
“Oh, my god.”
Pete was first to move, ducking down to throw the sheet back over the body. “We told you, Miss,” he said. “He wasn’t in a good state. Probably best we leave this one for the doc, yeah?”
She looked at him, slightly confused. Then blinked. Nodded to the doors leading to the back rooms. “Put him in room number five.”
The four men didn’t argue.
But they did groan as they were forced to carry their heavy burden even further into the morgue. Smell of cold meat and burnt bone.
Each man trying not to look at the strange and exotic-looking instruments neatly hung from hooks along the wall. In the middle of the room, a steel table lay above a wide drain.
Under her direction, they worked to get the body up.
The steel protested when the full weight was positioned and, no matter how hard Pete worked, he couldn’t stop the beast’s arms from dangling off the side.
After giving up, he shrugged at the woman apologetically. “Sorry, Miss. He’s a big lad.”
“That’s alright,” she said. “Thank you. You can leave now.”
“You don’t want us to wait for the doc?”
“He’ll be in late today, I’m afraid.” She turned and headed out of the room. “Is there anything else you need, Constable?”
“No.” Pete looked at the others, who took turns in shrugging. “I guess not.”
She watched them go, not taking offence as they made wide berth to get around her.
Knew the morgue unsettled them.
Knew also the smell of death lingered around her in a way that made most men deeply uncomfortable in her presence.
She heard Morris say what she’d heard a thousand times before; “How can a girl as pretty as that, work in a place like this?”
As soon as they left, she moved quickly to the front door.
Closed it.
Turned the key.
This time, when she took the sheet from the body, she was prepared. Didn’t flinch at sight of half the skull missing. Or the dozens of thick swollen bruises which marked every bullet which had hit the body.
The deformed muscle didn’t shock her. The massive hands didn’t frighten her.
Instead, she studied the beast which had been Jonathan Harker with a silent and calculating eye.
Leaned over the yawning wound in his head. Peered into the bowl-like ruin and inhaled the scent of brain. As she did, her eyes widened a little and her nostrils flared in disbelief.
“It can’t be,” she whispered. “That’s impossible.”
Then yelped as a spark of electricity crackled from deep inside the broken skull.
She blinked.
Waiting for it to happen again.
But whatever energy had fed the spark was now completely spent.
She put her hand on the cold chest. Pressing into the cords of muscle as her brow furrowed deep.
A loud bang made her, hand leaping up almost to her mouth. Heart racing, she realised it was the front door and moved with a low growl. First threw the sheet back across the corpse. Then hurried out, closing the door behind.
Smoothed the apron and managed to calm her racing heart.
Pete stood outside with his helmet in hand.
“Oh, Miss.” His cheeks flushed red. “Is the, uh, doc in?”
“No. I told you, Constable. He’s not coming in until later. I’m closing up until then.”
“Ah. Well.” He fidgeted.
“Look, Constable, I don’t mean to be rude, but I do have a lot of work to do. Is there something you want?”
“Not really,” he said. Looked ready to turn, then blurted; “Well, I was sort of wondering if you might be free for supper, perhaps? Not today, if it’s too much of a rush…”
Her face softened a little and she shook her head.
“Pete, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Miss.” Pleased she’d remembered.
“Do I look like the sort of girl you’d want to bring home to your family? Could you imagine telling them what I do for a living? Working with dead bodies? They’d be horrified.”
“No fear on that,” he said, finding himself on more confident turf. “My parents are gone more than ten years back. It’s just me. All alone, I am. No one to really disappoint, is there? Not that I’d be ashamed of you or anything. I mean, well, I was sort of hoping you…”
“Were alone, too, you mean?”
“Yes, Miss. Now you put it like that, it sort of sounds a bit desperate.”
“Just a bit,” she agreed. Then let herself smile. “I don’t have parents either, Pete. My father died when I was very young, and I never really knew my mother.”
�
��I’m sorry to hear that.”
She liked that he meant it, and let the smile warm a little more. “I’ll be very busy this week. We’re already overburdened. I won’t have any time at all in the evenings. But if you come back next Monday, maybe we could share a meal. A meal, mind you. I’m not that alone that I’ll let any man into my home. Or go home with one. Let’s first get to know each other and see if you can understand the kind of life I’ve chosen to live, because it’s one I won’t be changing. I wasn’t made to be a housewife, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“Why, Miss, I never thought-”
“Good. Next Monday, then?”
“Yes!” Beaming happily, the tall man ducked his head. “Monday. I’ll be here. I look forward to it, Miss.”
“And call me Henrietta.”
He blushed again as she started to close the door.
“Miss Henrietta,” he said, trying it out and liking the taste of it. Turned as if in a daze to head back to where his three giggling friends were waiting. And, as she turned the key, tried it out again; “Miss Henrietta Jekyll.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book took longer to release than I expected. I had it mostly written in April and was ready to begin editing, when Lente Scura, whose art adorns the covers for this series, was unable to secure permission form the model for the piece I wanted.
Lente then went on to recreate it with another model and that was a long process which I felt guilty for initiating but was extremely grateful for. I cannot even begin to say how grateful I am as I am sure you can agree the cover is 100% the best cover for this book.
The biggest thanks for this book, then, go to Lente for the effort and absolutely amazing art.
This book explores the theme of madness as it is presented in horror. Madness is often used as a trope in horror and even Lovecraft seemed to drive his characters mad as a device.
For me, I have always wondered at the idea of losing one’s mind. What is being lost? Is it the self which is being lost, or the shell we have presented to the world? How much of our behaviour is determined by external expectation and what would we feel should that restrictive sense of self-worth through the consent of others be lost?
I have again mined old Hammer movies and Universal monsters to bring what I thought of as a continuation of the love letter I began with The Satanic Brides of Dracula. I think of what I am doing here as a modern retelling in a classical way of these stories.
If they have moved you in any way, I ask that you share your opinions on Amazon, Goodreads, Reddit, or anywhere else you haunt. As an Indie Writer, I find myself often resorting to the level of street-beggar and it can feel daunting and disheartening to have a book read so often but hardly spoken about.
Did you like it?
Did you hate it?
Let me know.
I’m always listening.
Dracula’s Brides will Return in:
Rise of the Fel Queen #3:
Banshee Bride of the Living Dead
For more of my books, visit lucasthorn.com
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
