It was a snowy winter day. Christmas, to be precise. A day I'd always loathed. I looked over Dorian's portrait one last time, drinking from my cup. My lovely brother. My sweet Dorian. My best - my only friend. Killed by a vampire. A filthy, bloodsucking vampire! I furiously threw my cup at the wall, and instantly regretted it when I saw the pretty, icy porcelain shatter on the floor. I looked back at the time Mina had killed Dorian, three years ago.
Dorian stabbed Mina in the chest, and triumphantly dropped her onto the bed, taking his sword out of her body. "I thought I'd nail you one more time. I didn't think it'd be literally," he mocked. He turned around and wiped Mina's blood off the blade. I had the best view from behind the curtain. To my surprise, Mina suddenly sat up and lunged at him. She took the sword from his hand and plunged it into his stomach, pinning him to the wall.
"You broke my heart once. This time, you missed it," she said, grinning. She picked the covered portrait from the ground and held it up, facing Dorian. He desperately pulled at the sword, trying to free himself. Mina pulled the cover off the portrait, revealing the painting of a corpse. This was how Dorian would have looked, if the painting hadn't aged instead of him.
"Time to face your demon, Dorian," she said, as she showed him the distorted, dead face. Dorian's face twisted in horror as he tried to break free once again. But it was too late. His skin began to eerily peel off of him. I wanted to run to them and turn the portrait away, but it was too late. I wondered why I didn't do anything before he was faced with what he normally should have looked like. And before I knew it, all that was left of my brother, of Dorian, was a skeleton. Mina looked as horrified as I did, but I didn't care. I would kill her. I would do what Dorian wasn't able to do. I would avenge my brother.
My own portrait was lost. Nobody - not even I - knew where it was. I stood up and carefully hung Dorian's painting back on the wall. It was a well-made painting. I'd had a handsome brother. Another reason why I had to kill Mina. She'd put to waste one of the world's finest-looking men.
I walked over to the wooden front door and put my coat on hastily; then, I stepped into the deep, crunchy snow and sank in to my knees. I was heading for Mr Jenkins' shop. Over at the bakery, Mr Jenkins would have fresh bread. The bell rattled as I walked into the shop.
"Good morning, Mr Jenkins," I said, not smiling despite the date it was on that day. Mr Jenkins looked up and laughed merrily, sounding slightly like Father Christmas, which went well with the weather and the season, and of course the date.
"Merry Christmas, Ms Thompson! The usual for you?" he asked, using the name I had given myself to keep a low profile. If I went around known as Harmony Gray, Mina would surely come after me, and I was not willing to confront her until I had the certainty that my portrait was not in her possession. I nodded.
"You're lucky. Not many people come in on a day like this, they're all celebrating Christmas. I, unfortunately, have to work until the sun sets," he said, wrapping steaming bread in a sheet of paper.
"Oh, shame," I said dryly, , trying hard to look sorry. I put some money on the counter.
"Here you go, Ms Thompson. Have a nice day," he said, handing me the bread.
"You, too, Mr Jenkins," I replied sullenly, and walked out of the bakery. I headed back home, ignoring everyone who looked at me.
Oh, how I was looking forward to the day I would find Mina and drive my dagger through her heart.
"You. You're not a Thompson. I know the Thompsons. They're all dead," I heard behind me. I turned around slowly - I didn't want to seem suspicious - but I saw nobody, so I continued walking, telling myself it'd been my imagination.
"You're a Gray. You have the same eyes as Dorian," the person said again. I turned around in a flash, and still, I couldn't see anybody.
"Who are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. There was someone there, I sensed it, yet I couldn't see anyone.
"The name's Rodney Skinner. And we've got to blether a bit about your brother," the man said. He had an accent, and used an unfamiliar dialect. So he wanted to talk about Dorian.
"You're invisible," I said vaguely.
"Aye."
"I refuse to 'blether' about Dorian with an invisible man," I said, and started to walk away. I didn't bother to deny being a Gray, because this man obviously knew Dorian.
"Oh, that's all right," he said. When I turned to look at where the voice was coming from, I saw a floating coat, hat and shoes. Gradually, white paint was being blotched onto an invisible face. "Let's go have a walk, now."
Sighing, I followed him. "How can you not be worried about people seeing you, Mr Skinner?" I asked.
"Simple. I ain't ashamed of my invisibility. In fact, you can't begin to imagine the luck with-"
"Swallow the end of that sentence, Mr Skinner. Now what did you want to talk about?" I interrupted him because I just wanted to get it over with.
"Your brother's looking for you. I've been looking for you as well-"
Again, I stopped him. "Mr Skinner, my brother is dead. I saw it happen. Mina Harker killed him."
"Actually, she didn't. She killed someone, all right, but it wasn't Dorian. I don't see how you didn't notice the difference between your brother and his ditto-er," Rodney said, amused.
"Excuse me? My brother's what?" I asked, gaping at him.
"You know how you and Dorian both have immortality and invincibility until faced with your own portraits, right?"
"Yes?"
"And you know how I'm invisible?"
"Yes, Mr Skinner. Please just get on with it," I said, beginning to get annoyed. He was stretching it out instead of just telling me.
"There exists someone who can take on the looks of anybody else, and as it turns out, he wasn't prepared for Dorian's portrait. He didn't know that if he copied the appearance of one of us, he'd get everything else about us with it. For example, if he'd copied Mina, he would have been immortal like her. So when he became Dorian, he was just as invincible, until he was faced with his portrait. He died like Dorian would have."
"Thank you, Mr Skinner. Where is my brother?" I asked. I was starting to form a plan in my mind. I'd run back to my house, get Dorian's portrait, then head out to find him.
"I'll take you to him," Rodney told me. Well, I thought, that changes my plans.
"Okay. Just let me get Dorian's portrait first." I paused. "Wait... didn't he betray you all?"
Rodney laughed, as if I hadn't seen the obvious when it was right in front of me. "The copycat betrayed us, love. I didn't think you'd miss that after I told you-"
"Shut up, Mr Skinner, and meet me here in ten minutes," I said. The cold look on my face must have been quite icy, because he immediately stopped talking and nodded seriously.