The Vampire's Treaty

by Matt Shaw

  2ND LETTER SENT FROM THE KILLER

  1ST LETTER TO ARRIVE

  STUPID ROYAL MAIL

  DR. JEKYLL stood by the body of Herr Monika which had been moved to the mortuary (a small shed next to the bakery). Van Helsing stood with him whilst Judge Reiger remained in the background – put off getting any closer by the fact that he didn’t really like the sight of blood.

  “Hmmm, yes, I see, uh huh,” muttered Dr. Jekyll as he poked and prodded at Herr Monika in a fashion that only a doctor can seem to get away with.

  “What is it?” asked Van Helsing as he looked on hoping to learn something of the killer.

  “He’s dead,” confirmed, rather pointlessly, Dr. Jekyll.

  “We know that much!” said Judge Reiger through a tissue that he held to his nose and mouth, hoping to block the stench of death from his airways. “Who killed him?”

  “Well, sir, I can’t tell you that much,” said Dr. Jekyll, “but on first impressions it does appear to be the work of Desmodus rotundus.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Judge Reiger before ignoring the good doctor and addressing Van Helsing, “seriously – what the hell is he talking about?”

  Van Helsing took a step back and turned to Judge Reiger, “Desmodus Rotundus; the common vampire bat.”

  “A vampire did this? But what about the Peace Treaty?” replied Judge Reiger as though he was shocked that a ‘bad creature of the night’ could go back on their word and ignore the terms of the Treaty. “You must be mistaken,” continued Judge Reiger, “look again!”

  Both Van Helsing and Dr. Jekyll turned back to the body of Herr Monika and glanced at the two holes in the side of his neck. They turned back to Judge Reiger. They didn’t need to say anything.

  “Well what do we do now?” asked Judge Reiger. “Is this the creature that also killed Jeremiah? I told you it wasn’t me!”

  Van Helsing turned back to the body of Herr Monika. There was no evidence that whoever killed Herr Monika was also responsible for the death of Jeremiah Simpkins. One was quite clearly bitten and the other literally lost his head from the neck upwards – and there were no bite marks in his neck.

  “We’ll have to cut the body up, before we bury it,” said Van Helsing as he peered closer to the two small bite marks.

  “I hate this bit,” said Judge Reiger, who didn’t actually have to be there in the first place, as he turned around to face the less-offensive wall.

  Dr. Jekyll twitched.

  “If you have a spare cleaver, Doctor, I’ll help,” volunteered Van Helsing.

  “Sorry, bud, I only have the one… but here… you have it!” said Mr. Hyde as he reached for the cleaver on the far table before throwing it at Van Helsing’s head.

  If it wasn’t for the fact that Mr. Hyde used the word ‘bud’, Van Helsing would never have looked up. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mr. Hyde used the word ‘bud’, Van Helsing would have got the cleaver directly in his face. The word ‘bud’ warned Van Helsing that Dr. Jekyll was no longer ‘home’.

  At the last minute Van Helsing dodged to the side allowing the cleaver to whizz past him and stick into the thankfully-already-dead Herr Monika.

  “Get out!” said Van Helsing, to Judge Reiger, as he grabbed the cleaver from Herr Monika’s body – causing blood to gush out of the hole like a waterfall and splitter-splatter onto the wooden floorboards.

  “What’s going on?” said Judge Reiger. He had heard tales of Mr. Hyde but he had never seen him.

  “Get out of the room!” shouted Van Helsing as he stood between Judge Reiger and Mr. Hyde using the cleaver to keep him back.

  “Don’t go yet. It gets lonely in here,” said Mr. Hyde as he dribbled down himself. “We could have so much fun together,” he continued as he picked up another sharp blade. “Want to play pin the blade on the donkey? You can be the donkey!”

  He lunged forward towards Van Helsing as Judge Reiger ducked from the room. Van Helsing swung the cleaver wildly through the air as a deterrent to keep Mr. Hyde from getting closer. Van Helsing could have killed him easily with a well-aimed throw. He was a good aim. He had to be. He practiced most days so that he would never have to get too close to the things that he was trying to kill. It was safer that way.

  Van Helsing didn’t want to kill Mr. Hyde though. Dr. Jekyll was such a good doctor that an appointment with Mr. Hyde was well worth the risk.

  Mr. Hyde attempted another wild lunge towards Van Helsing who, once again, successfully dodged to the side – this time taking the opportunity to leave the room, slamming the door behind him and throwing his weight against it. He turned to Judge Reiger who was cowering by the far wall.

  “Push something in front of the door,” he yelled as Mr. Hyde started pushing against the door.

  “LET ME OUT!” screamed Mr. Hyde from the other room, repeatedly throwing himself against the wooden door. Judge Reiger pushed the receptionist table against the door – allowing Van Helsing to take a step back.

  Both Judge Reiger and Van Helsing stood back for a moment and watched the door, ready to attack (or run in the case of Judge Reiger) if the table didn’t hold.

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  THUD!

  “Ow!”

  “I think we’re good,” said Van Helsing as he took another step back.

  “What happens to him?” asked Judge Reiger peering through a small window in the door at Mr. Hyde who had given up on the door and turned his attentions to mounting the body of Herr Monika.

  “In time, the doctor will come back again.”

  “Well how much time? We need to know more about Herr Monika,” Judge Reiger impatiently said.

  “Do you want to go in and ask him?” snapped Van Helsing. “Besides, there isn’t anything else he can tell us – there’s only one person we need to talk to now.”

  “Who?”

  Van Helsing gave him a look. He knew that Judge Reiger wasn’t going to like the answer he gave but he needed Judge Reiger to come with him. He didn’t want him to come with him. He just needed him. To go alone would be suicide…

  * * * * *

  No one had seen The Count for a considerable amount of time. If you were to ask around the town, people would say they that the last time they actually recall seeing him was when he signed the Peace Treaty (although others will recall seeing him in the Co-op since then buying a pint of milk for Igor who was stuck in bed with a nasty case of flu).

  In fact, it had been so long since The Count had come down from his luxurious castle that some people often wondered whether he was actually still in there or even alive (well, not ‘alive’ as such because he was already dead but you get the idea).

  As Van Helsing trotted up the long windy road that wound round various rocks and shrubberies, he too hoped that The Count wouldn’t be in. It wouldn’t help with his investigations into who ‘definitely’ killed Herr Monika and ‘maybe’ killed Jeremiah Simpkins admittedly but he hated seeing The Count. The Count had an uncanny knack of creeping him out with his ability to see straight through people and even change form (one minute he was an elderly man, the next a young handsome man or sometimes a pretty little cheerleader depending on what mood he was in).

  The sun was high up in the sky beating down on both Van Helsing and Judge Reiger as they walked slowly to the castle; choosing to go during the hottest part of the day in the hope that a ‘sleepy’ Count would be more accommodating than a Count who was getting ready to go out on the town (or whatever he did these days
during his ‘awake’ hours).

  Judge Reiger stopped for a moment, leaning back against a rock to wipe the sweat from his dripping forehead, “I just don’t see why we need to talk to him. Can we not just round up a posse, head up the mountain pass and kill him?”

  “He didn’t kill Herr Monika,” replied Van Helsing as he too leant against the rock, taking a sip from a hipflask that he pulled from his pocket.

  “You said so yourself. Desmodus Whateverus.”

  “Desmodus Rotundus,” corrected Van Helsing, “the name for the common vampire bat - emphasis on the word ‘common’. That bite could have been from any vampire. The distance between the two holes signifying that it came from a vampire in bat form,” he continued.

  “Exactly, so let’s just get a posse up together and send them up to kill him,” said Judge Reiger, more or less ignoring everything that Van Helsing was saying. “And when it’s done, you can come and tell me. I’ll be in the safe-house.”

  “Common vampire bat,” interrupted Van Helsing. “That bite could have come from any of the vampires in this town whilst they were in bat form. If we just assume that it was The Count, after all these years of living in peace, that killed Herr Monika and we march up to his place and kill him… and the murders don’t stop. We will have every single vampire out for revenge. Never mind the fact that it also opens the doors for the other creatures to jump on the bandwagon and throw the Peace Treaty out of the window too. They don’t hurt us. We don’t hurt them. Those are the terms.”

  Judge Reiger stood to his full height to try and make him look more important, “Don’t you think the Treaty went out of the window when they killed Herr Monika first?”

  Van Helsing squared off to him, “The Freaks are the animals. We are the Normal ones. We will do this the correct way and the correct way only. We will find out who was responsible for Herr Monika’s death and we will bring them to justice for a fair trail.”

  “You may be the law man, because I made you the lawman but don’t assume you can tell me how to run my courtroom,” hissed Judge Reiger. “And don’t forget that you need me up here, I don’t need to be here… it’s your job to bring the killer to me, not for me to go to the killer.”

  “Well why don’t you just fu--…”

  “Excuse me, sirs,” said a voice from behind them.

  Both Van Helsing and Judge Reiger spun around, both startled by the sound of someone else talking to them. They didn’t expect to hear anyone else on the path for no-one ventured up.

  “Excuse me, sirs,” continued the voice (which belonged to Igor), “but Master says, if you are going to kill each other would you please do so quietly and preferably off his property.”

  Igor pointed towards the castle. There, at the window of the tallest tower, stood a mysterious figure. The figure floated from view.

  Van Helsing turned to Igor, “It’s good to see you again, Igor, I didn’t know you worked here now.”

  Before working with The Count, Igor worked with Victor Frankenstein – a genius who ended up turning bits of dead people into a walking, talking monster that ended up running riot around another town by spraying graffiti on walls, throwing eggs at different homes and gobbing on the pavements. It was in the employment of Victor Frankenstein that Igor and Van Helsing crossed paths.

  Because of his bad habit of making inventions that went tragically wrong and ended up hurting people (or costing the tax-payers vast amounts of money) Victor Frankenstein deemed a public nuisance and both he and his monster were hunted down. When the first group of vigilantes failed to kill them both – they sent out for Van Helsing, having heard that he had killed one of the creatures of the night. They believed, if he could beat something as ferocious as a vampire, he could rid them off their tormentor.

  But Van Helsing didn’t meet a mad-man that was portrayed to him (via email) when he caught up with Victor. Instead, he met a misguided genius who meant no harm (although he certainly did cause it).

  Over a nice hot cup of tea and a marmite sandwich, made by Igor, Van Helsing told Victor that there was no way the people were going to forgive him for their crimes. They wanted him dead and that was that. With the help of Van Helsing, they formulated a plot that would save their lives and allow them to escape the town to start a new life – somewhere miles and miles from where they currently were.

  “Victor didn’t take me with him, sir,” said Igor when he finally remembered who Van Helsing was. Old age was slowly robbing him of his past memories (although not his tea making skills and abnormal love of marmite).

  “How is Victor?” asked Van Helsing.

  “Victor? As in – Victor Frankenstein?” interrupted Judge Reiger, “I thought he was dead. I thought you helped corner and kill him! I read it in the paper!”

  Van Helsing turned to Judge Reiger knowing that his lie was about to be exposed.

  “You let him get away? I could have you hung for…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Van Helsing grabbed Judge Reiger around his throat and slowly started putting on the pressure – not enough to kill the judge but enough to show him that he didn’t really care for his tone of voice.

  “I don’t hear from him too much,” said Igor ignoring the bickering of Judge Reiger and Van Helsing, “it’s not so easy for him to get hold of me these days.”

  Van Helsing dropped Judge Reiger who backed down without a moment’s hesitation, “So why are you working here?”

  “I think that’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?” said Judge Reiger as he rubbed his throat. “Look at him! Who would want to employ him other than another Monster? His Curriculum vitae wouldn’t exactly shine to a Normal employer.”

  “I swear to God, if you don’t shut up,” growled Van Helsing as he clenched his fist.

  “It’s okay, sir, he’s right,” said Igor as he turned and started back up towards the front door. “Can I get you a marmite sandwich?”

  Van Helsing and Judge Reiger stopped and stared at each other for a moment before Van Helsing turned and followed Igor up towards the castle. Judge Reiger muttered something under his breath and also continued.

  * * * * *

  Van Helsing and Judge Reiger were in The Count’s dining room. A grand, old room with high ceilings, a posh lampshade (from IKEA) and long, oak table with cushioned chairs placed around it. On the far side of the wall was a large, open fireplace with the head of a werewolf mounted across the top.

  In life, the werewolf had been known as Ralph; a normally placid person who was bitten by another werewolf whilst going for a walk around the Lake District, in England. He met his grisly end when he ate one of The Count’s concubine’s by mistake. It wasn’t a mistake that he ate her, he just didn’t realise that she was property of The Count. He begged for forgiveness before having his head torn from his shoulders but his begging fell on deaf ears (in other words The Count didn’t care for the begging of mercy – The Count’s hearing was otherwise perfect).

  Van Helsing and Judge Reiger were sat at the large dining room table; a marmite sandwich in front of them both – not that either of them were in the mood for eating. Neither of them spoke. They just sat there with their hearts beating harder and faster than what were healthy.

  “Did you see the game last night?” asked Judge Reiger to try and break the silence between the two of them. His attempts at a conversation weren’t meant as an olive branch between the two of them. He still hated Van Helsing who, in turn, hated him back. But their hate for one another was nothing compared to the fear they both held towards The Count. Catch him in a foul mood, in his own place of residence, and they both knew it would be lights out (as in – they will be killed and not that The Count would turn the lights off and allow them to sit there in darkness whilst they chatting).

  Van Helsing didn’t answer Judge Reiger. Although he welcomed some idle chit-chat to break the eerie silence that filled the grand hall, he enjoyed watching Judge Reiger sweat over meeting The Count.

  “No, I don�
�t suppose you did. Silly of me, really, to think so,” continued Judge Reiger – happy to fill the room with the sound of his own voice.

  Judge Reiger was about to open his mouth again when the double door to the room creaked open and in walked an elderly man – The Count. Van Helsing stood up as a show of respect where as Judge Reiger simply shrunk in his chair, a little bit, hoping not to be noticed (or killed first).

  “Please sit,” said The Count as he gestured towards Van Helsing’s chair. His voice was deep and thick in a mixed accent that had been accumulated through years of travelling and living in different locations (Ireland, Russia, Germany and the Bahamas); his real voice having been lost through the many, long centuries that he had lived. The Count sat opposite the two of them, keeping eye contact with Van Helsing and, more or less, ignoring Judge Reiger.

  The Count wasn’t stupid (he had a university education thanks to years of study at Oxford) and knew that the only possible danger in the room was from Van Helsing. His nemesis – before the Peace Treaty was brought about.