The Stuart Vampire

by Andrea Zuvich

  The transition from a life of hard graft to one of leisure also added to her present discomfort. She was not accustomed to such idleness, and she yearned for work. As she continued her promenade through the garden, she thought again of Henry, her saviour; the man with whom she was profoundly enamoured. Every evening in his company was as delightful as it was painful. She ardently wished that he would take her in his arms and kiss her, but he never did, nor did he ever make the slightest hint of wishing to do so. Something moved in the thorny undergrowth nearby, startling her, but she saw nothing. She wrapped her shawl around her tightly, for she suddenly trembled with fear and cold.

  Caw! Caw! Caw!

  A black bird landed upon the parapets above, and stared down at Susanna. Caw! Caw! It continued thus for some time until Toby began barking at it. And just as swiftly as it had come, it flew away.

  ***

  One evening, in the middle of the month of June, Henry and Susanna sat conversing in one of the drawing rooms. It was a strangely cold evening, and so they had a roaring fire and several candelabra lit throughout the room. Susanna sang one of the newest songs she had learned, and when she had finished, she poured herself a glass of red wine to refresh her dry throat. As she sipped, she took a moment to glance around the room.

  “Life is so very transitory,” she remarked, in ponderous mood. “Why, this castle must have been built long ago…”

  “It was constructed mainly during the twelfth century,” he interrupted. “Some five hundred years ago.”

  “Egad! Well, that is exactly what I wanted to say. The age of this building makes me think about life; that it is so very fleeting. I wonder how many people lived and died within these walls. Imagine those who sat in this room by this great hearth. What did they say to one another? What were their thoughts, their feelings?”

  “Do you like staying here with me?” asked Henry abruptly.

  She looked at him with an enquiring expression. “Oh yes!” She paused, and licked her bottom lip.

  Henry registered this and asked, “What is it?”

  She hesitated, glancing at the mediaeval tapestries on the walls. Her favourite of these, depicted a scene of courtly love, a woman and a man holding hands in a wood. “I have wished to ask you something for some time now. Why do you only ever come to see me at night?”

  Henry shook his head. “I cannot tell you.”

  She was puzzled by his unwillingness to be frank. “I have never seen you in the daylight. Why do you sleep during the day? Why do I go throughout the whole day without seeing you once?”

  Henry slumped down in his caned chair, and crossed his legs. He made no reply, and refused to return her gaze.

  She nodded, as if finally realising something. “You say nothing. So perhaps it is as I feared, after all? You are married… of course that’s the reason. Your wife is here; this is why you do not allow me to see your wing of the castle. I am allowed everywhere except there. You are with her during the day, and keep me as some kind of strange pet in this wing.”

  “No!” he exclaimed, uncrossing his legs and bending forward in his chair. “How can you think of such things? How can you think that of me?” His green-yellow eyes were burning brightly with his passion.

  “But if not that, it is something else!” she persisted. “You are keeping something from me.”

  Henry took a deep breath, and spoke more calmly. “I can assure you that I am not married; and I have never been married. I keep no one in my part of the castle. I just need to be alone sometimes.”

  Still he did not answer her question. “I pray you will answer me. Why have you only ever been in my presence at night? I cannot fathom the reason why you should live in so unnatural a manner.”

  “Unnatural? Indeed, that is the very crux of the matter. I am unnatural. I told you once that we all of us have secrets, things we do not wish for others to know about. I have a terrible secret of which I am afraid to speak.”

  “I already know what you’ve been hiding from me,” she whispered, averting her eyes away from his.

  How could she know of what I am? “What?” Henry asked with mounting concern.

  She kept her eyes upon the iron firedogs in the hearth. “I know you killed them. Peter, Mark, and Geoffrey. I know it was you.”

  Henry stood, open-mouthed in disbelief. He was surprised that she said this and not that she knew he was a monster. She must still not know.

  “And how, pray, would you know that?”

  “Oh, come now, I may be a simple country girl, but I am not a fool. I lived for two years without telling a single soul. Only three days after I told you, they were butchered and left as a grisly spectacle in the village square. It must have been you. You are the only one who knew, and the only one who cares enough to have done it.”

  He dropped his head to his chest. He had been deceiving her for so long that he took the chance to tell some truth. The past few months with Susanna had been among the happiest times he had ever known, and the fear of losing her was great.

  “Aye, ‘twas that I killed them, and I did it for you. You will hate me for this, I know. You will loathe and despise me for I am a villain.”

  She walked towards him, and placed her little hand upon his. “Nay, you could never be a villain in my eyes. They were the villains! You have never harmed me, Henry. You are a good man, with a good soul. I wept with joy that I, and my poor boy, have finally been avenged. I knew then that it was you, for no one, save Samuel, ever cared for me as you do.”

  He did not care for her as Samuel did, for he could not love her as a brother loves a sister. The extent of his feelings ran deeper than the Thames, than the great sea itself.

  “Your words fill me with great hope, but I know they are not true.” His self-deprecating soul knew no limits. She looked at him with an expression of surprise.

  “You doubt my sincerity? Why should I not think this way? I have so much to thank you for. You saved me from a life of mistreatment and pain. You’ve allowed me to come live here with you in this enchanted castle. You taught me to read and write. You’ve allowed me to sing. It was you, and only you, who have brought music and beauty into my life. I’ve become a better person because I’ve known you. And I will never forget how you saved me from that ferocious beast in the wood…”

  “Please, you must stop thanking me!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet and walking away from her. He remembered all too well how close he had come to killing her on that moonlit night not so long ago.

  “But I am grateful and you never have allowed me to do anything for you,” she continued, standing up as well.

  “You sing for me every night, do you not? You converse with me, you are here with me. You are my companion and a true friend to me. I cannot ask of you any more than that.” And yet he wanted so much more. They both did. It was becoming futile to continue denying it all.

  She moved closer towards him.

  “Ever since I first met you, Henry Stuart, you seemed to me as a man with a great sadness about him. If only I could help! Oh, but you hide so much from me. Please, talk to me; let me know of your secret. Are you and I not true friends, as you have just said we are? Let me know what this sorrow is that you carry so heavily upon thy heart.”

  He made no reply, but stood there, his back turned towards her.

  “Oh! I sometimes think I do not know you at all,” she stated, unhappily. “I know your likes and dislikes, your favourite pieces of music, your taste in literature and art, but nothing of any true depth. Oh! If only you’d let me in.”

  “Let you in?” he sighed, turning to face her. He took her hand, placing it over the most vulnerable place upon his body, over his heart. “Susanna, this vessel which I thought would forever be empty, this is full of you. I love thee terribly.” As soon as the words had left his lips, he regretted them, for he was certain that his monstrous side would only hurt her. The memory of the nightmare returned.

  “Oh, Henry!” Susanna exclaimed, throwing herse
lf into his arms. “Do you, truly? For I love thee, too. I wanted you to know but I never dared speak to you of my feelings. I did not allow myself to dream that someone like you would reciprocate my love.”

  She made to kiss him, but he wrenched himself out from her embrace. Susanna looked on in confusion.

  “Nay! You must not love me!” he cried, turning his back to her. He gripped onto the mantelpiece and rested his forehead upon it as well. He allowed his eyelids to close. “Nay, I can endure this no longer! I cannot go on with this torment inside my breast!” The weight of his conscience, of his dark secret, was crushing him from within. Both sides of his nature desired her — for two different reasons.

  “I am a monster, Susanna. I am made of the greatest evil in the world. You ought to fear me. You should not love me.” His voice grew deeper, and it seemed to take on the hoarseness of a lion.

  “Why are you saying these things? You’re frightening me, Henry!” she whispered, her eyes startled as a deer who has heard a sound from a predator in the wood.

  He hunched over, and he hid his elongating hands from her. “You ought to be frightened, for I am the beast that you saw between the Black Stones. I am the creature that almost killed you.”

  Chapter 15:

  Henry’s Curse

  “I…I am the monster of Sanguinem Castle that you have all been warned about!” he exclaimed.

  He summoned more courage now. The moment had come. Henry tentatively turned towards her, his distorted features and fangs prominent, to meet her gaze. Susanna’s eyes widened with horror as she beheld him — the creature from the wood! His great fangs, his snarling lips, his contorted devil’s head, the green-yellow eyes — huge and terrifying. She screamed hysterically and then her eyes fell back into her head and she sank to the floor in a faint. Her reaction was as painful as it had been expected; and in that moment, Henry wished he could die.

  With a heavy heart, he lifted her up into his arms and carried her to her bedchamber. He pressed her against him, and smelled the perfume of her hair for what he believed to be the last time. He pushed open the chamber door and gently laid her in the middle of her large bed, believing he had lost her — for who could ever love such a foul being as he now was? He held his beloved’s hands with his monster’s hands, treasuring each and every moment with her, knowing she would soon awaken, screaming, and wishing to never see him again.

  Would she go back to Coffin’s Bishop now, or would she run away to London, as she had always wanted to? He braced himself for the inevitable conclusion to their love — to the end of his brief joy. He vowed to provide her with money and transport to London, if that was her desire. He would love her for the rest of eternity, but only from afar. He promised himself that he would watch over her until her last breath, he would be certain that she would never come to any harm.

  ***

  She awoke with a start, and found that she had been placed upon her own bed and covered with a fur. Henry was nowhere to be seen.

  “Did I imagine so terrible a sight?” she thought, rubbing her pounding forehead, and fervently hoping that she was mistaken. She felt confused and bewildered. After all this time, Henry had been the monster inside the Black Stones. He had been the Beast of Sanguinem Wood! No wonder it did not attack him. Had she had better vision that night, she would have seen that the creature’s body had the same garments that Henry wore. Everything was finally clear to her.

  She heard his cries, his great lamentable sobs echoed down the dark, stony passage. They were the sounds of an animal in pain; the same melancholic moans that she had heard from a distance in Coffin’s Bishop. She followed his dreadful cries, not caring that they were coming from the forbidden part of the castle. He had nothing more to hide and she did not care what horrors she might come upon there. Once she had ascended the great staircase that led to his wing, she stretched her arms out, groping wildly as she attempted to find her way to him in the pitch black. In her rush to go to him, she hadn’t thought of bringing a candle to light the way.

  Susanna continued to follow the sound of his voice, and pressed her hands against what she found to be a door. She skimmed it with her fingers until she found the door handle. She pressed down on the latch with her thumb and opened the door. An icy breeze hit her as she entered the chamber, the door creaked ominously as she pushed it open, and the room smelled of death. The sobs continued, loud and painful.

  “Henry!” she called out into the darkness.

  “What are you doing here?” he exclaimed from somewhere amidst the darkness. “You needn’t have come to say goodbye. I know you are leaving. I will not stop you. There is money enough for you in the large chest in your bedchamber. Take it and go. Leave me! Leave this place, and be happy.”

  “I shall not leave thee,” she said, her voice unwavering and true.

  “What? What are you saying? Are you as mad?”

  She stepped closer to his voice. “I am not mad at all. In fact, I have come to beg your pardon. I am sorry. I should not have reacted in the manner I did.”

  Henry continued to sob, quietly now.

  “How can you be here in the dark? We need some light in this room?” she said. Henry waved his hand and the many candles surrounding the room lit all at once.

  She gasped, “How did you do that?”

  “Such trifling powers are part of this dreadful curse,” he said with a shrug.

  Her eyes briefly skimmed the well-furnished room, which was less ornate than the one he had given her. Nevertheless, it possessed a fine tester bed, from which thick crimson hangings fell. There was a desk, upon which there were several writing quills, various papers, and two open books. Before this desk was a new turkey work chair. She closed the door behind her and rushed to his bed, where he lay, his back towards her. He was crouched over, his back and shoulders moving with the great heaving breaths he took.

  She shuddered at seeing his blood tears springing from his eyes, soaking into his bed linens. He saw the shock in her eyes, and covered his face with his vampire hands.

  Susanna took a deep breath and sat on the bed beside him. She took a kerchief from her bosom and, with a slight tremor in her hand, began mopping away the blood on his face.

  “I must be where you are. So this is where you hide away in here all day long. You needn’t hide from me, Henry. You have shown me your true face, and I have come to you. Never hide from me again.”

  She placed her hand upon his shoulder blade, and rubbed it in circular motions in order to soothe him. Henry wanted to weep more, for his desire for her was strong, his need stronger. He made a concerted effort to return to his human form, and he did this transformation right before her eyes. She stayed put, perched on the edge of the bed, but her eyes showed her amazement.

  “Now that you know that I am this hideous creature, you must go back to your bedchamber. I cannot trust myself — that monster sometimes takes over. I cannot die, you see? And if I were to hurt you, I would have an eternity filled with regret. Please go, Susanna.”

  She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked straight into his green-yellow eyes. “I refuse to go anywhere until you’ve told me everything. I want you to tell me exactly what you are, and what this affliction is.”

  “What am I? I am neither living nor dead. I am a vampire.”

  “Vampire,” she repeated, trembling with fright. “What is that? What does it mean?”

  “It means that I died my human life, only to be reborn into a world of darkness. This was done to me against my will, and I have endured great struggles since my making, and my Begetter has been gone for nearly seven years now. I survive now by feeding off the blood of animals and men. That is why I do not dine with you, for when I partook of human food I become violently ill.”

  She wondered why he had only ever eaten once in her presence. It was all so strange. She had so many questions, so many things she had never thought to ask him before. “Your Begetter?” Susanna asked. “What, who is that?”
/>
  “Her name is Griselda, she is the Countess of Cuorenero in Italy. She was born two centuries ago and made a pact with the Devil in exchange for everlasting youth and beauty, and he then turned her into the creature she now is.”

  “The Devil?” she exclaimed in alarm. “He exists?”

  “I’m afraid everything exists,” he replied. “Angels, monsters, ghosts, everything the old tales spoke of are true.”

  This took Susanna aback. “If the Devil made her, and she made you, does that mean that you are evil?” She could not, would not, believe he was anything but the good man she had known him to be. Henry was not the kind of man she thought of when she thought of demons and evil-spirits. She never even thought any of those things existed until this moment.

  “I suppose it must, though there are those who are like me yet good. I do not know how evil I am, but I have fought against the darkness inside me. I have not always succeeded in doing so, but I did stop myself from killing you that night.”

  “And were you always like this? A Vampire?”

  “Nay, I was once like you. Griselda is very powerful, and she Begat me when I was dying from smallpox.”

  “Why?”

  “She wanted a mate for life, a vampire lover to be by her side always.” He put his face into the palm of his hands.

  Susanna could not help herself. “Is she beautiful?” she asked, jealously.

  He thought about this for a moment. “Aye, but in a peculiar way. I suppose her kind of beauty was once greatly admired, but beauty has changed over the centuries. Beauty or no, she is mad.”

  “And if she were not mad, would you have loved her?” Susanna asked, looking down at him.