The Elixir

by George Willson

  “What do you think, John?” Arthur asked anxiously. John knew that Arthur had hoped for something that he would not say around Lucy’s mother.

  “She looks anemic, to be sure,” Seward said with a shrug. “As to what’s causing it, I am at a loss. She needs to eat at least, so I encouraged her to make her best efforts to do so. I’ll see her tomorrow to determine a course of action from there.”

  “What about her mother?” Arthur asked. “Surely she cannot handle this sort of stress.”

  “I know. Which is why I will return as often as needed for both of their sakes.”

  “I won’t be able to come out here tomorrow, though.” Arthur said. “Will you be all right?” Seward smiled and nodded as they made their way back to the station.

  That evening, Seward spent most of his time poring over medical journals for any mention of this sort of condition or if some kind of animal venom might be causing it, but he could find nothing. He would make one more examination of her tomorrow, and if he were unable to find any kind of answer, he would have no choice but to ask for help.

  The following day, he called at the Westenra house and was surprised to see Lucy answer the door, smiling and moving like the young woman she was. She told him everything about the morning she had with her mother, and they all enjoyed a nice lunch together before Mrs. Westenra retired to her room for the afternoon.

  Seward quickly learned all of this activity was for Mrs. Westenra’s benefit. As soon as the old woman had gone, Lucy relaxed, and she soon took on the appearance she had the day before.

  “John, you have to help me,” Lucy pleaded. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I had to keep my spirits up for my mother while you were here, so she would not be worried, but in truth, I have been on the verge of collapsing.”

  “Lucy, what happened to you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she cried, tears welling in her eyes. “Nothing makes sense. I get plenty of rest, but I’m always tired. I eat, but it doesn’t help. I don’t feel sick, but I do. Does that even make sense?”

  “And this began when Miss Murray was staying with you, is that correct?” Seward asked.

  “She’s Mrs. Harker now, but yes,” Lucy confirmed.

  “Where is she right now?” Seward asked.

  “In Hungary with her husband,” Lucy said. “He took ill while returning from some business, and she has gone to be at his side.”

  Seward nodded and wondered if they would return before Lucy got any worse to try and sort this out. Suddenly, Lucy whimpered and held her neck.

  “What is it?” John asked.

  “The wound on my neck,” she said. “Sometimes, it hurts. Sometimes, it bleeds.”

  “Let me see.”

  Lucy reclined on the couch, and John removed the wrapping she had around her neck to find the wound still not properly healing and a little blood pooling around the edges. He decided to take this opportunity to take a sample of it to see if he could find anything out of the ordinary with it. He cleaned the wound while putting some of her blood aside for a later examination. She remained on the couch and allowed him to examine her for anything out of place besides her pale skin, but he could find nothing.

  He left shortly after Mrs. Westenra returned from her room, and back in his office at the asylum, he examined her blood but nothing stood out. He was at a loss. Feeling as if he were at the end of his knowledge, he decided to send a telegram to his friend from the university at Amsterdam, Dr. Abraham Van Helsing. The man was an expert in unusual diseases and during the time they were together at the university, he had shown an extraordinary aptitude for getting to the root of any physical malady. If anyone could figure out Lucy’s condition, it would be Dr. Van Helsing.

  At the telegraph office, he had simply described Lucy’s condition as strangely anemic, but he urgently needed assistance. He told the man behind the counter that he would remain in the area should a reply come soon. Dr. Van Helsing worked on the University campus, which had its own telegraph office, and so he would get the telegram quickly. An hour later, the reply came that he would meet Seward at the station in London the following morning to travel to Whitby. He sent Lucy a telegram to advise her to meet them at the stores in Whitby so as to not alarm her mother with a visit from a stranger to further examine her.

  As good as his word, Dr. Van Helsing met Seward in London, and they boarded the train to Whitby together. Since their time at the university, time had been considerably kinder to Van Helsing than it had to Seward as the years barely reflected on the man’s chiseled face. As was his way, Dr. Van Helsing lowered the blinds around them before he removed his hat, revealing his red hair. He sat back in his seat and looked at Seward with his deep blue eyes to listen.

  Seward described everything he knew to date, and Van Helsing silently listened the entire time without interrupting. When Seward finished his description, Van Helsing looked thoughtful for awhile before he shook his head.

  “I can see why you felt the need to call for another opinion, my friend,” Van Helsing said. “Her condition is troubling to be sure. She sounds anemic to a point, but I am not sure that is the true problem. It is my sincere hope that once I see her, I can light upon something that you may have missed to clear this up for you.”

  “I would be grateful for any assistance you can provide in this,” Seward said. “Never have I felt so helpless in a case. And more over, this is someone that is quite dear to me, though she is not mine.”

  “I can see from your face that you had hoped otherwise, though, yes?”

  “Yes,” Seward nodded. “She made her choice, and it was for a friend of mine. Now, I am only left to be her doctor, but even so, I wish her no ill.”

  “Of course not. One point you had mentioned that I do wish to know a little more about, if you don’t mind. These marks on her neck. You said they came from…?”

  “According to Lucy, her friend, who was staying with her at the time, believed she had punctured her neck with a pin she used to secure a shawl when she was found sleepwalking in a local cemetery.”

  “And what is your opinion on these marks?”

  “They are puncture wounds, to be sure,” Seward said with a shrug. “It is unnerving that they will not heal and probably the source of the infection, but besides their constant presence, I’ve thought little of them.”

  “Could they be bite marks from an animal, perhaps?” Van Helsing asked. “Like those of a snake?”

  Seward thought back to the marks on Lucy’s neck. They did have a space between them that might be small enough to consider the idea that the puncture wounds were actually simultaneous wounds made by fangs on an animal. He nodded. “I suppose that is possible.”

  “But you said this on and off condition has been going on since early August, though,” Van Helsing clarified.

  “That is the report I was given,” Seward confirmed. “Her friend first found her out sleepwalking and noticed the marks on her neck about three weeks ago.”

  “Good,” Van Helsing said thoughtfully to himself. “That’s good.”

  “You have an idea then?” Seward asked with obvious excitement.

  “Not yet,” Van Helsing said with a smile. Seward’s excitement deflated. “I was more or less questioning you to find out what it wasn’t. You would agree that ruling out maladies is as important as ruling them in, yes?”

  “Yes,” Seward said, disappointed.

  They arrived in Whitby in the afternoon, and made their way into town where they found Lucy sitting outside a deli, waiting for them. She stood happily and greeted them respectfully before they all seated around the table.

  Van Helsing started by having Lucy recite to him everything that he had already heard from Seward about what had transpired from the onset of the condition to the present. Her own observations were somewhat vague at times and even limited to what her friend, Mina, had told her of what had happened at certain points.

  “So tell me, John, how does she appear today
as compared to previous days?” Van Helsing asked once Lucy had finished talking.

  “Her appearance is similar to yesterday,” Seward said. “Like she loses the color in her face.”

  “Indeed,” Van Helsing said. “So a bit paler?”

  “Yes, I would say so,” Seward said.

  “And how are you feeling, Miss Lucy?” Van Helsing asked her.

  “I’m a little tired, but I am feeling all right,” Lucy said. “Some days are better than others, but I don’t mind telling you that I am frightened over what this is. I am not supposed to stay sick for so long, am I?”

  “It can happen, unfortunately,” Van Helsing said gently. “Some illnesses can manifest themselves over a long time, and sometimes, you catch the same thing again and again. It is not the best of situations, but some people can be more susceptible to some sicknesses than others.”

  “Will I get better?” Lucy asked.

  “Since this has come and gone for so long, I am not certain as to what it is yet,” Van Helsing said. “May I see the wounds on your neck?”

  Lucy nodded and removed the scarf from her neck. The marks were a bright red, but they had appeared to heal somewhat since John had last seen them. He looked at Van Helsing whose reddish brows were furrowed as he looked at the marks.

  “I think they are improved from when I last saw them,” Seward said.

  Van Helsing said nothing but only sat back in his chair, clearly lost in thought.

  “What is it?” Seward asked, unable to hide his concern. Even Lucy looked worried.

  “It’s nothing, I’m sure,” Van Helsing said with a smile. “Once we identify what it is that ails you, we can help you overcome it.”

  They left Lucy to the remainder of her day shortly thereafter and walked to the train station in order to make their way back home. While Van Helsing had given Lucy some measure of peace of mind, Seward had noticed the concern on Van Helsing’s face as he stared at the marks on Lucy’s throat. Before Seward could say anything, however, Van Helsing spoke up.

  “I’ve seen marks like that before,” he said quite bluntly.

  “And her condition?” Seward asked.

  “Yes and no. I have seen something similar, but it never ebbed the way hers appears to do. Once it started, it finished.”

  “Fatal?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Listen to me, John,” Van Helsing said, stopping to turn and look at him directly. “In this world, there are many strange and confusing things. Things you would never dream existed. I have seen marks similar to those before but rarely on the living.”

  “What do we do?” Seward asked.

  “Well, that’s the other thing,” Van Helsing continued as he turned to walk again. “What I’ve seen before doesn’t ebb this way. It either starts or it doesn’t which makes me wonder if it isn’t something else entirely. Something I’ve never seen before. Therefore, I want to take this tack with it.

  “Watch her, my friend. Watch her like a patient who has a disease so fatal that it could turn at any moment. Keep in touch via telegram. I have to return to Amsterdam for a couple of days to make sure everything is secure without me for awhile. I want to know if anything changes with her, and if it does, I want to be able to spend a considerable amount of time here researching it.”

  “Do you really think it’s that serious?” Seward asked.

  “John, for your sake and the sake of everyone in your beautiful country, I pray it is not,” Van Helsing said, but behind that voice, Seward sensed a level of concern and sadness that he had never heard from anyone before. Whatever Van Helsing was not saying was important.

  “Why can’t you tell me what it is?” Seward asked.

  “Because I don’t know for sure,” Van Helsing said, “or perhaps I don’t want to know. There are times in your life when you know something, but you don’t want to know it. When you are certain deep down inside, but you don’t want it to be true. I don’t want this to be true so bad, John, that I am frightened to my core that it is. Have I seen this before? Yes, I have. Can I explain it now? No, I can’t. I would not know where to begin, and I hope I don’t need to. I know that is vague, and I, by no means, intend any disrespect to you, my friend.”

  “Of course, Doctor,” Seward said respectfully.

  “John, we were at university together,” Van Helsing said. “I’ve told you before to just call me Abraham.”

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Karian had watched warily as Lucy and her mother had left for the day and then fortunately returned. He had decided to change the girl, and he hoped that he would not somehow lose track of her before the change happened. It was sensible for the human world to believe that during the final phase of their transmutation his new children were dead. He would remain in this place until the change was complete, and then with his new child at hand, he would explore this island, and if she held enough of her mind, he could continue to learn their language from her.

  His English had been steadily improving since his arrival, as a good part of his time was spent in various parts of the city with people either listening to them speak, or working to carry on a conversation with them. He feared his ancient brain would have considerable trouble with this language, but after a few weeks, he was catching on quick. Even still, there were many words that came up now and then he had to decipher, so he was far from fluent.

  As he considered his next course of action, a sound emanated from the house, and he saw Lucy walking across the yard in the darkness. He ran to her and found that she was walking in her sleep much as she had the first night he had seen her. He thought he could use this moment to speak with her.

  He touched her shoulder which caused her to stop walking. He caressed her face and spoke her name which caused her to wake up. At the realization of her being awake, her legs failed and Karian caught her and carried her to the Whitby Abbey where he laid her on the grass that had taken over its interior.

  “Be quiet, my child, you are safe here. No one will harm you.” He spoke softly to her in his own language which he knew she was unable to understand, but clearly she understood his meaning. She smiled and touched his face. She spoke to him, and although as he expected, he only knew some of her words, her tone was clear. He understood that she trusted him.

  Then she said something and indicated the marks on her neck. He nodded and told her, “Yes, that was from me. We give life to each other.” At this, he took a knife that he had stolen from town from his belt and cut along the vein at his wrist. He held it to her mouth, and she drank the blood from his veins.

  He knew he could take quite a bit of this, but also knew that he would need to feed as soon as he got her back home. It was another hypothesis of his that if the person he changed took in more of his blood, they would retain more of their intelligence. He was not certain what Lucy thought of her current situation as to whether it was real or a dream. Since she was sleepwalking, she might well awaken tomorrow morning with a limited memory of the evening.

  He felt a moment of weakness and removed his arm from her grasp. Blood trickled down her chin, but he used his shirt to wipe it away. He wrapped his wrist to stop the bleeding and lifted her from the grassy floor to take her back home. She put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. She said something soft to him, but he could not understand it.

  He carried her to her room and laid her down in bed. She slept again, and he simply stood over her, watching patiently like a father watching his child. Soon, she would be his, and his family would start once more. Little by little, they would grow on this island until he could find safe passage with someone back to the mainland. For now, this Lucy would be his priority. She would become like him, and he would love her like a daughter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Dr. Seward! Come quickly!”

  Seward had been ensuring everything at the asylum was in order before going to Whitby to check on Lucy, and the sudden appeara
nce of an orderly had interrupted his morning. He knew what to expect, however. Despite Renfield’s indication that he would be patient in waiting for his non-existent master, he had random outbursts of violence that forced him to remain in his downstairs solitary room.

  This time, however, he had broken free of the room and was wreaking havoc in the lower halls. By the time Seward arrived, there were six men struggling to hold him still. Seward quickly grabbed a sedative and a needle.

  “Keep him still,” Seward said as he drew the liquid from the vial into the syringe.

  “No!” Renfield screamed. “You can’t stop me. I have to go!”

  “Where do you think you’re going to go?” Seward asked, poising himself for the injection.

  “The flies,” Renfield said. “I just want the flies again. Let me go back to my room and catch my flies.”

  “I told you the conditions for moving back up there, Richard,” Seward said. “You need to show us that you can behave. And destroying a door down here is not showing us that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Renfield said. “Just take me up there. Please.”

  “We have our rules for a reason,” Seward said. “If I show you mercy and let you back upstairs without following the rules, I’ll have others doing the same. If you can behave down here, you’ll go up there.”

  “No!” Renfield screamed and struggled against the hundreds of pounds of force the men were using to hold him.

  Seward injected him and waited as the sedative took effect. In less than a minute, Renfield was unconscious. Seward stood up.

  “Take him to another cell, and see what we can do about reinforcing the door,” Seward commanded. “We can’t have our guests breaking out all the time.”

  The orderlies acknowledged him and took Renfield to a new cell in the basement as Seward turned back to go upstairs. In short order, he received word that Renfield was safely locked up in another basement room, and Seward perceived that he would be safe to go to Whitby to check on Lucy.