immortal soul, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it._
_She began to fade visibly. When I "returned" in a week, she was so illthat a few steps tired her. Her appetite all but vanished. She seemedgenuinely glad to see me. She was beset by nightmares, she said. Could Ihelp her get some rest? I took her to a physician who sagely prescribeda change in climate, rest and a diet rich in blood and iron, gave her aprescription for sedatives, and called it a day._
_You know how she looked when you saw her. The day was approaching whenshe would have no more blood, when life as you know it would stop andshe would become like me. Somehow I couldn't take her with me withoutsome warning, but I didn't know how to do it. You see, since I was aninnocent victim myself. I could speak, could warn my intended victim,because although my soul had all but died, there was still a spark thatevil hadn't touched. I knew she would think it a joke if I told herabout myself without warning._
_Then, happily for me, you came along. I knew you would sense somethingamiss and I didn't care. I was almost certain of her love, and I decidedto seize the few minutes left me and devil take the hindmost! When youtold her to confront me, you gave me the happiest days of my life. Forthis I thank you sincerely. For what I have done and will ask you to do,forgive me!_
_Maria asked me directly, as you had known she would. I replied frankly,sparing her nothing. I told her that the fact that this life had beenwished on me, as it were, gave me some rights, and that I could tell herhow to rid herself of me, if she wished. Then she turned to me, herlarge, lovely eyes thoughtful._
_"Tod, dearest," she said softly, "I must die some day, really die, sowhat difference does it make when? I only know that I love you. Why waituntil I'm decrepit and alone, with only a few memories to look back on?Why not now, with you, where life doesn't really stop? With all I'veread about this, don't you think I could free myself if I wished?"_
_I still wonder if she really believed me. We were married three dayslater. I never told her what her life with me would be like--that oneday I would desert her, fearing and hating her rivalry for the verysource of my life, and the ghastly chain would continue. I couldn't. Iloved her so, Morris, can you understand that? I couldn't betray herthen and I can't now._
_On the second night of our marriage, she died as you know it, in myarms. I don't think she knows it yet. But it won't be long until shedoes discover it. We were quite alive when you found us; she was in anhypnotic state induced by her condition. She heard and saw nothing. ButI knew. And I must keep my faith. I must, and you are the only one whocan help me._
_If you will show this to a priest, he will gladly accompany you to theplace in_ Konigstein, _where we rest during the morning in a new "bed" Ihad specially constructed for us. I couldn't bring Maria to that otherbed of corruption. A map of how to get there is enclosed. There you willperform the ancient, effective rites, and you will lay us to resttogether, as we wish. That is all I ask...._
* * * * *
When I had finished reading I stared at nothing, trying to force myselfto think. This was "all" he asked. In substance, he wished me to murderthe girl I loved. I could refuse; I could ignore his request. I couldeven doubt the verity of his statements. He might be a madman. But Ididn't doubt. I believed every word, and I knew I would do as he asked.
That she had gone willingly I didn't doubt. I no longer hated him somuch; rather I pitied him, the hapless victim of a horrible chain ofcircumstance.
* * * * *
I found the priest, a venerable, gentle soul, after much searching. Theyounger men had looked at me searchingly, laughed and told me to readthe Good Book for consolation, and to lay off the bottle. Father Kalmanwas understanding, with the wisdom of the very old.
"Yes, my son," he said, "I will go. Many might doubt, but I believe.Lucifer roams the earth in many guises and must be recognized andexorcised."
It was five o'clock in the morning when we approached the mausoleum. TheGood Father explained that the "creatures of darkness" had to be back intheir resting places before the cock crew. At night they drewsustenance; during the morning they slept.
There was a gleaming copper casket. Tod had not lied. We approached itwarily. In it was nothing but grisly remains, bloodstains and dust. Wedrew back, fearful. Then we saw the other, newer casket in richestmahogany, almost twice the width of the copper box: _Their bridal bed!_
They lay together, his arm about her. She wore a gown of palest blue,but oh, that mockery of a gown! Stained it was with fresh blood whichhad seeped onto it from him. Obviously she had not taken to prowlingyet. His mouth was dark, rich with blood, slightly open in a half-smile.His hand pressed her fair head close to his chest. She lay trustinglywithin the circle of his arm, like a small child. The priest crossedhimself. The bodies twitched slightly.
"You know what you must do," Father Kalman whispered.
I nodded, the pit of my stomach churning madly. I couldn't do it! NotMaria, the lovely. But I knew I would; I had to. She must not wake againto see that blood-stained gown or to wonder at her husband's gory lips.She should know rest, eternal rest.
Father Kalman circled the box several times, ringing his small bell, andat one point laid a crucifix upon each of their chests. Their faceswrithed and I felt my skin creep.
Then, chanting in a low, firm voice, the priest gave me the signal.Together we drove two long stakes, dipped first in Holy Water, home,piercing their hearts simultaneously.
The bodies leapt forward in the box, straining against the stake, and ahorrible, drawn-out wail shattered the stillness of the tomb. The priestdropped to his knees and I clapped my hands over my ears, but thedreadful shriek penetrated. My stomach turned over and I retched. TheGood Father followed suit. We were no supermen and our bodies and ourvery souls revolted against this monstrous thing.
"Let us finish, my son," the priest said slowly, after a time, his facethe color of ashes. "We must bury these dead, that they may sleep inconsecrated ground."
I couldn't. I had to see her again before it was done. She lay, smalland fragile as ever, her face calm, only there was no trace of life now.She was still and white, as only the dead--the truly dead--are. Tod'sarm was flung across her chest, as if to protect her. I made myself movethe arm, resting her head upon his shoulder, where it belonged. Then, asI looked, there was just Maria. Tod was gone and only a handful of dustlay piled up around the stake. It was enough. I slammed the lid shut.
* * * * *
Looking back now, I can see it was all for the best. Ria wasdifferent--apart from other women. A dreamer, a mystic, too easilyinfluenced by the bizarre and un-normal. I, on the other hand, ampractical almost to a fault. Had she married me I might have crushed inher the very thing that drew me to her. In time she might have grown tohate me.
Hunter, on the other hand, was a student. Introspective, given toromanticizing. Susceptible to suggestion. Had I been confronted with anEve, I should have run like hell. To him, though, she was cloaked inmystery; hence, more desirable. What better choice for him ultimatelythan Ria? That Ria had to die to achieve her happiness is of no realimportance. Life is a transitory thing anyway.
Sometimes, though, when I look at Ria's picture, it's hard to bepractical. She was everything I shall ever want.
I had never been to Europe before the summer of 1947. I went to findMaria, to marry her. Instead, I found and murdered her, and I will nevergo back again.
Each Man Kills Page 4
