The Elixir

by George Willson

  The man jogged around the corner and paused just under Karian to look around confused. He muttered things like, “Where’d he go?” and “I know I saw someone” before declaring that had lost his mind while mumbling about the spirits and moved on.

  Karian remained on the ceiling and moved quickly to the stairs to the bunk room a deck lower, and descended to find the serene room he had left. He looked over his potential victims and settled on a man who appeared somewhat cleaner than the others. He knew that as this voyage carried on, he would be forced to bite somewhere other than the neck lest he come back with a mouthful of dirt as much as blood.

  Again, he held his hand over the man’s mouth, and whispered the threat of death into his ear. Unlike the others, this one struggled for a moment, but Karian’s superior strength held him in his place and the man eventually succumbed. Karian drank once more from his neck, but this time, he drank until the man passed out to make sure he wasn’t followed. He knew he could take someone that far without killing them. As soon as the man fell unconscious, Karian moved rapidly back to his crate and hid inside, once again satisfied by the rather simple hunt.

  The following day, Karian followed the conversations of the men closely to learn what they believed was happening to them. This time, with a third attack and the sighting report from the night watchman, the crew was fairly insistent that someone or something was on board with them, and they were growing anxious as a whole.

  “I will accept that something clearly happened to you,” the first mate told the men in the crew’s mess, “but as no one has died from this seemly thrice nightly occurrence, I hardly see any reason to involve the captain.”

  “No one has died yet,” Karian’s third victim indicated stressing the “yet.”

  “And no indication that anyone will,” the first mate said. “How can you be certain this is being perpetrated by a person?”

  “I saw him,” the night watchman insisted. “I saw him just last night. He stood right before me.”

  “Then where did he go?” the first mate asked with considerable doubt in his voice.

  “I no sooner said something than he up and disappeared,” the night watchman replied. “I swear.”

  “How could you have lost what you insist was a full grown man?” the first mate asked. “And one of age as well.”

  “I know what you saw,” the young first victim said. “I got the marks here to prove it.”

  “There are many parasites that can live within the walls of a ship such as ours,” the first mate noted. “Some of them bite.”

  “They don’t hold a man still while they do it,” the third victim said.

  “Fear can paralyze a man,” the first mate said.

  “You calling me a coward then?” the third victim asked indignantly.

  “I call a man who gives credence to imagination and superstition to be nothing more than a fanciful child who has no place on a ship with grown men,” the first mate declared. “The captain will not have fear spread among his crew, you hear? We all have a long voyage ahead of us, and we must keep our heads clear, or we’ll find ourselves adrift with madness.”

  “It isn’t madness,” the second victim said.

  “What you have on your necks is something you bumped into or something that happened while working,” the first mate insisted. “It’s not some blood sucking specter.”

  “I saw him,” the night watchman insisted.

  “What you saw was a trick of the light, nothing more,” the first mate said.

  “I’ll show you a trick of the light,” the third victim yelled and attacked the first mate. The rest of the crew formed a circle around the combatants until the captain burst into the scene and pulled the two apart with some help from the rest of the crew.

  “I’ll thrash you to within an inch of your life!” the first mate yelled.

  “What’s going on down here?” the captain bellowed.

  “Calling me a liar, he is!” the third victim said.

  “More superstitious rubbish,” the first mate countered.

  “What does he say you’re lying about?” the captain asked the third victim.

  “I’ve got the proof right here on my neck that we’ve got something on board with us,” the third victim insisted showing the captain the bite marks on his neck. “Something alive. Something feeding on us.”

  “He’s got a vivid imagination,” the first mate said, “but we are sailors, not school children.”

  “It’s not imagination,” the second victim insisted. “Three of us have been attacked now.”

  “And I did see something last night,” the night watchman added.

  “What’s this then?” the captain said, turning to the first mate.

  “Same as the other nights,” the first mate explained with a sigh. “They claim that the marks on their necks are bite marks.” The night watchman nodded vigorously and moved forward to add to this, but the first mate stopped him. “And that something was spotted below deck.” The watchman stepped back with a nod. “I say the sea is getting to them already.”

  “We have the marks,” the first victim stated.

  “Which is proof that maybe there is a new illness that leaves such a mark, or that you fell in the night,” the first mate said. “Nothing more.” The crewmen all stood around in momentary silence, uncertain how to proceed.

  Finally, the watchman spoke up, “Captain?” Everyone turned their gaze to their leader who looked carefully over their faces, clearly not wanting to create any measure of trouble among his crew. In the end, he only sighed.

  “I will not have my crew succumb to such fantastical tales,” he said. “Back to work.”

  Karian remained hidden as the crew scattered to attend to their duties. He eventually made his way back to his crate to hide for a couple more days until he needed to feed again. He was pleased at the chaos he was creating, but he knew he needed to keep this group of humans alive and working together until they were fairly close to their destination. He could pilot the ship if he needed to, but he also needed the constant infusion of blood to keep his strength.

  What he did not know was how far from England they were by ship. He knew from Transylvania, or more accurately, Bulgaria, England was a considerable distance to the northwest, and to reach it by sailing ship, they would need to pass around the entire European continent, which did not happen overnight. Yet again, he felt that perhaps he should have stayed in Transylvania instead of pursuing them, but as he thought about the place he had called home for the last seventy years, his heart turned cold from the loss of his children. His resolve rekindled itself, and he was prepared to wait as long as it took and pray that he would remain high and dry throughout his unexpected journey.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  David and Voivode rode in a cab heading towards their new home in Purfleet east of London. The ride on the train across Europe had passed completely without incident giving them the first sense of peace they had had since Karian had found them the previous year. They had crossed the English Channel on the ferry between Calais and Dover and boarded another train from there before arriving at their station and proceeding in a cab from there.

  The rhythm of the horse’s hooves on the streets of civilization was soothing even though the carriage did not ride anywhere near as smoothly as the Levi-Cart. Still, the people they had met so far had been friendly to them, especially once they saw how old Voivode was. To David, their treatment made them feel like dignitaries compared to how the Fempiror were used to being treated by normal society. Of course, they were careful not to touch anyone or say anything about themselves for fear of the discovery of their secret. In addition, David was careful to keep his sword hidden within his traveling cloak to prevent any questions or suspicious looks.

  David watched the city go by as they closed in on their destination. He had not seen people just going about their lives for so long that seeing something so simple entranced him. Would he be able to relax from the constant s
tate of readiness he had maintained for decades? He had spotted several stores that would supply their basic needs and reflected that he could easily travel to them on foot either later in the day when the sun has lowered, or if he needed to, he could walk in the daylight with a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun off to avoid any suspicion. If it came down to it, he also supposed they could hire out for the shopping, but he preferred to do what he could on his own to minimize the local interaction.

  Little by little, the people walking along the sides of road diminished, and before long, the cab stopped in front of a large, old, stone building surrounded by a rusted fence. The cab driver opened the door for them and stood by as David exited onto the sidewalk.

  “Are you certain this is the place, sir?” the cabbie asked warily.

  “It is as described to us,” David said holding a hand out for Voivode to exit the cab. “Old though it may be, it will suit us well enough.”

  “It’s not necessarily the age, sir,” the cabbie clarified. “I mean that some people say the place is a bit haunted is all. Might be nothing, of course. It’s been closed up for many a year now.”

  “I thank you for your candor, friend,” David said handing the cabbie his fare, “but I assure you that ghosts will not have been the worst we have experienced if there are any here.”

  “Very good sir,” the cabbie said. “And a good evening to you.” With a tip of his hat, the cabbie unloaded the bags that David and Voivode had brought with them before he climbed aboard his carriage and drove away.

  “What do you think?” Voivode asked as they stood outside the fence. David looked up and down the street spotting the asylum that Harker had referenced some distance away.

  “From here, it appears to be as described,” David said, “except that I believe the asylum will be completely visible from the house, or at least, from the second floor.”

  “If that is their worst infraction, then I believe we shall do well,” Voivode said.

  “I agree,” David said as he reached out to unlock the gate and open it. He gestured for Voivode to enter the grounds. “Shall we?”

  Voivode nodded and they walked toward their new home, hopeful for the future that it provided.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Karian was discreet about his movements and those he had drunk from so far. While he had been seen on occasion, it was never for long, and to date, he had not killed anyone. At the same time, however, the control he had to exercise was not fully satisfying his hunger, and he had to do something about it. He knew he could survive for some time on a single, complete feeding, and he also knew that his luck with the weather would not hold for long. He could not risk the urge to come out to feed if there were a storm blowing.

  In addition, the crew’s fear had led them to stay awake longer in their bunks as well as keep a careful watch in the crew quarters meaning that he would be unable to attack the sleepers as he had done before.

  He had been tracking the crewman, Petrofsky, who was assigned to the night watch and had been lazily walking around the ship. Karian always made his movements at night since the only people who were up and about were a couple of watchmen and a man at the helm. He avoided the line of sight of the helmsman and kept track of the watchmen’s habits as well as avoiding the crew quarters entirely.

  He had not seen the other watchman for some time, so he felt the time to handle Petrofsky would be now. Karian was looking down on him from the starboard side of the ship’s central rooms. He could not risk the man running or crying out, so it would be necessary to play on his fears for just a moment. He jumped down from his perch over Petrofsky’s head and landed behind him, making just enough noise to cause Petrofsky to stop walking.

  Before Petrofsky turned around to investigate the noise, Karian jumped back to the top of the central rooms. As Petrofsky turned, Karian moved behind him again and jumped back down. He heard Petrofsky gasp, and the man turned to look directly into Karian’s face. Karian smiled as Petrofsky stumbled back in fear, struggling to find his voice. Karian held him still and bit into his neck, drinking liberally of his blood.

  Petrofsky was powerless against Karian’s strength, and it was not long before he stopped struggling entirely and his heart stopped pumping the life giving blood through his veins. Karian finished the last drops he could draw from the man’s neck before he picked up Petrofsky’s corpse and tossed it into the sea like a bag of old garbage. He heard the splash as Petrofsky found his final resting place, but the sound would be indistinguishable from the other sounds of the sea as they traveled.

  His hunger fully satisfied for the first time since leaving Transylvania, Karian looked out across the Mediterranean. The stars were still bright overhead showing no storms in his immediate future, but they were at sea. The rains would come, and he would have to pray the ship stayed afloat and that his crate would keep him dry. He was certain the crew would not open it at any point, but he did not know how dry the cargo hold would stay if the sea started to roll.

  At that point the ship hit a sharp wave and mist from the ocean wisped across the deck covering Karian in its fine spray. Karian stepped back in surprise and waited for the pain as the water did its work, but nothing came. Granted, there was not much in the spray, but in his experience, water against his skin in any quantity caused some level of pain. There was more water in the mist than from the dew in the mornings, which generally did not hurt him, but he also assumed that was because the feet and hands were tougher than other parts of the body.

  He ran a finger down his face and tasted the water. He winced immediately at how salty it was, and he reflected that seawater was undrinkable because of its saltiness. He wondered if he might actually be immune to seawater in limited quantities where any amount of freshwater was lethal. He was unable to reflect on this for long, though, as a voice rang out across the deck.

  “Petrofsky!”

  He recognized the voice. During his following of the ship and its crew, he had learned who most of the crew were, and he knew the other watchman this evening was a man named Amramoff. His scent was far less desirable than Petrofsky’s due to his alcohol intake, which is why Karian had left him alone on this evening. Karian jumped back to the roof of the central cabins as Amramoff passed by him hollering once more for Petrofsky.

  Karian followed Amramoff as he searched for Petrofsky, and it was not long before the first mate showed up asking about the racket Amramoff was making since the rest of the crew was attempting to sleep.

  “It’s Petrofsky, sir,” Amramoff explained. “I can’t find him.”

  “What is the problem then?” the first mate asked with considerable annoyance.

  “Just don’t want anything to have happened to him,” Amramoff replied.

  “And what exactly could have happened? The specter got him?”

  Amramoff shrugged as if to say that was a distinct possibility. The first mate scoffed in reply.

  “Petrofsky is undoubtedly drunk somewhere and sleeping off the pay he will lose for his foolishness,” the first mate said angrily. “Unless you want to suffer the same fate, I suggest you get on with your watch, Amramoff.”

  “Yes, sir,” Amramoff replied respectfully, but once the first mate disappeared below decks again, Amramoff was again cautious about what might be lurking in the dark around him. He called for Petrofsky in a whisper this time, hoping his missing friend might answer him, and all would be found to be well.

  Karian waited until Amramoff was clear of the door heading to the cargo hold, and he disappeared into the darkness below. He returned to his temporary tomb of the crate in the cargo hold, and wished he knew how much longer it would be.

  On the following night, Karian had made his way once more to the main deck, but as he did not need to feed, he only stood on the deck looking out over the sea again. Occasionally, he saw the flicker of lights on land, but though they were close enough to see them, he knew he was too far away to reach them. He wondered if the water around him would kill
him or not based on what happened last night. He did not dare risk it.

  He heard the sound of the deck creak near him, and he turned to find one of the crew, called Olgaren, staring dumbly at him. Without showing any reaction to the man, Karian calmly walked out of the man’s field of view. As soon as he was out of view, Karian jumped to the side of the central cabins and climbed into the darkness above the deck.

  No sooner had he disappeared than Olgaren ran around the corner to see what became of him. Olgaren checked every corner and nook there was along with checking up and down that side of the ship. Finally, he walked with purpose toward the Captain’s quarters. Karian stayed out of sight and followed as closely as he could to find out what would transpire between Olgaren and his captain.

  “Sir!” Olgaren said as he entered the Captain’s quarters. Given the hour, the Captain was dressed for bed and not prepared for the visitor.

  “What is it, Olgaren?”

  “Just now, sir,” Olgaren stammered. “On my watch, I saw a tall, thin man standing at the edge of the deck before he turned and walked behind the cabins and disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” the captain replied skeptically.

  “Most certainly, sir,” Olgaren replied. “He was there, and then he was gone.”

  During the exchange, the first mate had appeared at the captain’s door to listen in on the discussion. The captain noticed him, and nodded to Olgaren.

  “Very well, thank you for the report. Continue your watch.”

  “Yes, sir,” Olgaren responded, and he rapidly left the captain and the first mate alone.

  “Honestly, number one, what’s going on here?” the captain asked.