The Vampire's Treaty

by Matt Shaw

  The lynch mob (and the rest of the town that didn’t bother to show up) knew it wasn’t the vampires that were responsible for the murders this time but they had been responsible for murders in the past and Jack just reminded the people what vampires were capable of – and that made them feel uneasy. Worse than that, though, it reminded the Normals what all over creatures of the night were capable of. It reminded them that they were the enemy.

  There was some serious bridge-building to be done between everyone and the crowd knew it started with Van Helsing taking Jack into custody. It certainly wouldn’t start with Van Helsing coming out of the inn holding a letter in his hand – and yet, that’s exactly what they saw…

  * * * * *

  “Dear Sheriff, I hear through the grapevine that I’ve been rumbled. It doesn’t matter. You’ll never catch me. I am the one that got away. Don’t feel too bad. You were never destined to catch me. My killings will be timeless and I will be known through history as one of the most prolific serial killers of all time. I’ve enjoyed our game of cat and mouse but, suffice to say, it’s time to go. I’ll be seeing you in the future, dear friend,” read Van Helsing as he stood in front of the disappointed mob. He held up an empty Igor’s empty vial and a piano-tuning fork that was also left behind, with the tips sharpened, for the people to see.

  “What’s that?” asked Frank with reference to the empty vial, who was close enough to see exactly what it was – he just didn’t understand the relevance of it.

  “It belonged to Igor,” said a voice from the back of the crowd. The crowd spun around to see Victor standing next to the horse drawn carriage that brought him there. The crowd were obviously stunned by Victor’s appearance but he didn’t care. He figured he’d have to face them sooner or later and now seemed to be a good a time as any to face his demons. Victor continued, “I’m guessing he drank the potion?”

  Van Helsing nodded before dropping the vial to the floor where upon it shattered on impact.

  “Was there any sick next to the bottle?” asked Victor.

  Van Helsing shook his head.

  “Then he’s gone forward…”

  “What does that mean?” asked Frank.

  “It means he’s got away,” said Van Helsing – disappointed that he didn’t get his man. “Damn it!”

  “So… what now?” said Frank.

  What now indeed. Van Helsing was at a loss. The people were at a loss. Victor was suddenly very aware that he was, once again, the most hated man in the immediate area and that the people had shown up for blood. He just hoped they wouldn’t suddenly want his blood.

  “Now we get back to normal,” said a lady from the side of the crowd. “The killer has gone. Now we get back to our lives and put it all behind us. Now we go back and open our shops. We go back and look after our families. We go back to living our lives as we did before Halloween.”

  No one said anything. There wasn’t anything to say. They knew she was right. They knew the only thing that they could do was to just move on and forget about him – hope that somewhere, in the future, someone would catch up with Jack. One by one (slowly at first and then faster as the minutes rolled on) the crowd dispersed in different directions as each member went off to live their life how they did before Jack shook everything up.

  Victor nervously walked through the dispersing crowd towards Van Helsing, “So what are you going to do?”

  Van Helsing thought for a moment, “I want to catch him. I want you to help me catch him. You can make me some more of the potion.”

  “Even if I wanted to do that for you, we have no idea of knowing where he went. You’d be chasing a ghost,” said Victor.

  “What do you mean – if you wanted to help me?”

  “The people need you here. The people need you now. They don’t need you in the future. They need you here to stop the future from turning bad. Look what happened when you came to get me and the people were left to their own devices. They went to war and lost. The future turned bad. You need to be here to keep that from happening again.”

  “What if Jack makes the future bad where-ever he is now?” asked Van Helsing.

  “I’m sure he’ll be caught where ever he is,” comforted Victor. By now they were alone. Victor turned to Van Helsing, “You’re a good man but you can’t catch all the bad guys.”

  “You think I’m a good man?” asked Van Helsing as he turned to look at Victor.

  There was the slightest of pauses.

  “Yes,” said Victor, leaning in close to Van Helsing – resting a warm hand on his shoulder. Van Helsing didn’t pull away. Instead, he stared into Victor’s eyes for a split second longer than what is polite in normal society – and they kissed; a long, passionate, slow kiss… Van Helsing pulled away as he knew it was wrong, and they’d once again be hate figures if anyone saw them.

  “Whatever happens,” said Victor as he stroked Van Helsing’s hair, “I’ve got your back from here on in… Together we’ll make a good team.”

  Van Helsing looked a little embarrassed by the current situation he found himself in (not that he didn’t like where it was headed) and simply nodded. He liked the idea of Victor being his right hand man. Van Helsing knew he had the skill to track the creatures and he knew Victor had the ideas on how to trap them. Together he knew that they wouldn’t let another person, like Jack, get away with their crimes.

  He also liked the kiss, even though he knew that it was wrong and the people would frown upon it. Not that it was any of their business.

  Van Helsing decided to steer the conversation in another direction, “I suppose we best go and have a chat with Judge Reiger…”

  “Yes,” said Victor who was also a little flustered by the unexpected direction they found their relationship heading. Neither of them particularly wanted to see Judge Reiger. Van Helsing wanted nothing more than to arrest him for obstructing the path of justice but he knew it would be a waste of time and, even if he was going to arrest him – he wouldn’t be able to as Judge Reiger wasn’t where they left him (unconscious on the Town Hall floor, if you remember).

  * * * * *

  With blood pouring down his face from where he hit his head on the floor, Judge Reiger was running through the centre of the town dodging the disapproving looks directed at him from the people that he saw (and who saw him for some people he ran past had their backs to him).

  “Just a bit further,” he said to himself as he neared the edge of the town and the start of the long stretch of woods that led to the other town. He wasn’t leaving the town forever – just long enough for people to forget the fool he had made of himself for trying to blame Van Helsing for killing the victims. The people had always liked Van Helsing more than him – he just spotted an opportunity that he seized with both hands to try and bring Van Helsing down a peg or two and further his own status in the town. He never planned for it to backfire in the way that he did. Still, all he needed to do was keep his head down in a neighbouring town for a while – just long enough for the people to forget (and, ultimately, forgive) and then he’d come back - pretending he had been away on some important charity business. As Judge Reiger leapt through the bushes at the edge of the forest, he smiled to himself. He knew people were a sucker for anything to do with charity and that, if they thought he was away doing things for a charity, it would immediately put him in their good graces once again.

  Just as soon as he got into the woods, Judge Reiger’s paced died down as his legs started to feel the burn of all the running he had done. No one could see him now so he allowed himself the luxury of a light jog instead of an all out run. He was safe now – safe from Van Helsing coming back for him, safe from the questions of angry member’s of the public who may (or may not) have demanded what he had been playing at and, more importantly for a man who was always worried about his place in society, safe from any more possible embarrassment.

  He just wasn’t safe from the semi-naked woman tracking him – half keeping an eye on him and half keep
ing an eye on the time as she waited, patiently, for the moon to reach into the sky.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  1888

  JACK STUMBLED OUT FROM BEHIND SOME BINS, dazed by the time-travel process. He didn’t know what to expect when he drank the liquid, he just thought he would wake up in the same place as where he originally drank the potion – not in another place altogether.

  “Excuse me, mister, are you okay?” said the sweet, delicate female voice of Mary Ann Nichols, a lady of the night.

  “Where am I? Where’s the inn?” asked a dazed and confused Jack.

  “What Inn? There’s a pub down the road if that’s any good to you? I could accompany you, if you want?” said Mary as she approached Jack.

  “Where am I?” repeated Jack.

  “Buck’s Row,” answered Mary.

  “Buck’s Row?”

  “Whitechapel.”

  “What year is this?” asked Jack.

  “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

  “What year is this?” repeated Jack, getting frustrated by the lack of a simple answer that he sought.

  “It’s August 31st. 1888…” said Mary, feeling slightly uneasy about the way Jack spoke to her. “Well have a good night,” she said.

  Jack stopped her from walking away by placing a firm hand on her shoulder, “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Polly,” said Mary. She pulled away from Jack’s grip but didn’t go any further. “Were you looking for some fun?” she foolishly asked as she flashed him her stocking-clad leg from beneath her long, dirty dress.

  Jack smiled.

  “Yes, I believe I am,” he said with a sinister flash in his eyes.

  “It will cost you,” said Mary – her need of money dulling the sense of danger that she was in.

  Jack felt inside his coat pocket and felt the handle of his knife, “I’ve got money,” he lied.

  “What’s your name?” she asked as she moved closer to him, grateful that she had the opportunity to earn some more money that quiet night.

  “You can call me Jack,” he replied.

  And, for a brief time, she did get to call him Jack but the newspapers built upon his name – Jack the Ripper.

  THE END

  www.facebook.com/mattshawpublications