Writing while listening the Death Note OST is very instructive... That, and watch "Whitechapel" like for six hours without stopping.

Warnings: Light smut. Explicit death descriptions.

Chapter IV:

Evening Deductions.

A cold hail rattled against the tall guillotine-shaped windows, covered by long wine-colored curtains to muffle the noise. The large room was already brightly lit to receive and warm our newcomers. With his back to the fireplace, a mouse of slender built and angular features joined the pads of his long fingers, still watching with mild interest the welcome convoy that had arrived at his portico less than ten minutes ago.

"I hope that your trip to my humble abode has not been so uneasy, gentlemen. Unfortunately, the storm has not made things easier for us."

"Not as much as the trip here, detective," Mickey said, getting up and extending one of his claws to the austere mouse, "I am..."

"... Count Mickey Dragul, governor of Transylvania for more than a couple of centuries, last member of the extinct lineage of the famous Dragul family of Romania, accused by gossips and legends as a Vampyr Chiroptera, or, as the common people call you in simplified form: Vampire." Basil replied with a quickness and aplomb that left Mickey speechless. After recovering from the initial surprise, he gave him a questioning and inquisitive look that the famous English detective answered without a doubt: "As stipulated in my letter, I was anxious to meet you and thus confirm my own suspicions about you, which, obviously, are all true." He sketched a smile "I hope you can forgive me for the abruptness of the trip, but as I mentioned before, it's..."

"...Urgent, yes, that's what your messengers told us and in your letter," Count Dragul replied with the same quickness, and frowning and with a hint of a growl in his voice, he continued: "I must tell you frankly, I don't really enjoy being interrupted by my personal activities with my wife in this way, so you'd better be really urgent or if you don't..."

"Control yourself, mouse; Show something of princely manners, we're guests," Oswald interjected ahead of the vampire, squeezing his shoulder with one hand and with the other, pulling out a crucifix, ready to be place it to his back... And Mickey apparently noticed it, because he moved away sharply from the hunter rabbit, still with a grim expression. Basil had raised his eyebrows throughout the outburst, while at his side, his faithful assistant Dr. Dawson was trying not to show too much of his tremors.

"Please forgive my beloved husband's actions, is that he has not fed in the last hours and the lack of... liquid puts him in a bad mood" Mina replied with embarrassment, smiling with gentleness, grabbing the arm of her companion, managing to appease him a little before her touch.

"Oh, I already assumed that, Mrs. Dragul, so I took the trouble to get ahead of those inconveniences with a blood supply for the two of you." To the astonishment face of the Draguls and interrogation of the Van Helsings, he cleared his throat: "donations from hospitals for my experiments and that is the least that I can offer to both of you during your entire stay in this place. For the rest, my house will be a good place of refuge, meeting and discussion, so feel at home.

"That's exactly what I wanted to ask you right now, Mr. Basil. What exactly is this serious matter that can affect all of Europe and even the world?" Oswald asked, crossing his arms. "If it really is something urgent, wouldn't it be convenient to start discussing it now?"

"I understand your impatience, Mr. Van Helsing, but as my dear Dawson had told me, I am learning to be more... ehm... hospitable and open with other people besides myself. I would like to offer to all of you a small dinner to recover your strength and to brighten Mr. Dragul's mood, preferably" he made a dry giggle and then composed a serious face. "besides, it's a somewhat... shocking matter and I don't want to spoil your appetite beforehand."

"As you say, you are the host, guide us then," the rabbit replied, handing his saddlebags to Dr. Dawson, who almost went down on his knees to the ground with the amount of weapons and objects he was carrying in the bag.

The dinner was frugal but comforting. All sitting on the modest oak table, plates of cheese and pastries passed from hand to hand as the pair of vampires was content with pieces of raw meat and containers of blood to clear the palate. Basil watched them with interest and he seemed to be making mental notes to apply them in future experiments while poor Dawson tried by all means not to see them or even to breathe too much, because the smell of blood made him feel dizzy, looking impressed that the marriage Van Helsing was eating with absolute calm and normality, even with they were sitting practically at their side.

Once the plates were removed, they all returned to the main room to rest and, as Basil had said, to get fully involved in the matter from which he had summoned them. Sitting in the soft chairs and with their respective drinks (tea for Basil and Dawson, cider for Oswald and Ortensia and blood diluted for Mickey and Mina), they all surrounded the small rectangular table that was full of folders and papers. The indolent aspect of the renowned detective had changed to a serious one as he pulled out one of the folders, squeezing it between his fingers.

"Let me start by saying, gentlemen, that usually my privileged intellect would be enough to solve any case, but in these current circumstances... This is far beyond of my jurisdiction." He opened the folio and took out a rectangular paper. "August 27, eight at night, a boy who was passing to his home found a body on the outskirts of a landfill in the neighborhood of Soho. This, right off the bat, could be a common murder... but there is a detail that stands out." And he placed the piece of paper that turned out to be a daguerreotype (1) "Here, you can see it."

The two couples bent to look at the old black and white photograph that showed a stone floor full of dirt and some pieces of old cardboard, no doubt proof that it was a landfill area, in the center was the body of a bear with dark fur and humble clothes, standing out a cloth hat tilted in one of his ears, lying in the middle of some garbage bags. His huge mouth was open, and a frozen expression of absolute horror had managed to be immortalized in the photograph. Going further down his corpulent body that surely must have surpassed six feet tall, there was a strange black substance that covered a large part of his body, especially his abdomen and much of his thick legs, looking like ink or tar. No doubt a frightening sight, though not as much as the bear's right leg, which looked exposed and raw, as if it had been scalded in boiling water.

"Good heavens, it must have been a terrible death," Ortensia mused, observing the perplexing wound of the victim, "did you know who this person was and what was that liquid?"

"We are still in that with respect to the liquid, but about this subject is not that much can be said" Basil said taking out a manuscript paper and placing it next to the rugged photograph. "According to the vagabonds of the area, he was known as Bre'r Bear, an immigrant from the United States who lived in the area as a porter and doing cleaning services for several months. He had no criminal background and he was described as someone unintelligent, but of great strength. His death sowed panic in the neighborhood for several weeks. And then is this one..."

He took another photograph and placed it next to the first: This time it was a snake in prison suits, with the neck a large part of his body twisted into positions too abnormal for his species, evidence that his spine was broken from the inside, and next to his wide-eyed face, spots of the same black substance: "Sir Hiss, former counselor to King John, deposed for treason, was found in the wooded area of Nottingham on the afternoon of October 1th. One would think that they would be separate cases, but the brutality of their attacks and undoubtedly that disturbing black substance in their bodies makes them create a pattern. And in these..."

He took two more photographs, showing in one to a couple adult turtles skinned and covered with the same substance and in the other a group of seven small turtles, clearly infants, lying on the ground with their turtle shells broken, revealing their entrails and large amounts of the same black liquid surrounding them. Ortensia paled before the second photograph, no doubt that affected her terribly as a mother and she closed her eyes, trying to erase from her mind such abominable image. Her husband, noticing that, squeezed her hand in support. "A wealthy family in the Kensington neighborhood was found murdered in their home a week ago, the parents and their seven children, all killed in the same way, and the worst is that they found them in a room locked from inside."

"No doubt a rugged image for anyone," Mickey said taking the photographs and looking at them with bored eyes, "but that doesn't seem to be something that you need help from me or Van Helsing, detective Basil. It sounds more like common crimes typical of the barbaric and violent nature of mortals. If you want to waste my time, tell me now and I better..."

"Mickey!" The vampire mouse fell silent at the sound of his wife's dry growl, surprising everyone, especially Oswald, who had already raised his hand to give him a good hit on his nape to shut him up. Basil, after recovering from the fright that provoked such a cry and scolding, cleared his throat.

"I was going to that, my lord Dragul, I wanted to put all of you in context to go straight to the main dish." He opened the second folio, where he took out a couple of photographs, this one showing a fox and a cow with the same black spots and brutal wounds... But there was something else: Mickey's boring eyes widened when he saw the bare shoulder of the cow a couple of wounds that were distributed next to one another as if made with a awl, looking exactly like a bite of... "This cow was found almost two days after the finding of Bre'r Bear's body and it makes me happy that you also noticed those wounds, my dear friend... They look like a vampire's bite, right?"

"That is impossible, there are no reports of vampire attacks in the United Kingdom in recent years; if there were, I would have heard from hunters of my own level of experience residing in the country," Oswald mumbled with simultaneous rage and astonishment, snatching the cow's picture from Mickey and looking at it closely, the wounds really looked like a product of a vampiric attack. That, added to the mysterious black spot of the victims and the huge bright-eyed thing that Mina had seen in the sea... Would it be a new type of vampire never seen before?

"...Even the best hunter doesn't always get the prey, and you know it, Van Helsing." Basil replied gravely, receiving a strong nod from his assistant. "And unfortunately, it's not all: We have reports of completely hysterical witnesses who have come to the police stations saying that they have seen strange creatures through the dark alleys..." He handed him a declared statement from the Whitechapel station, "read it and tell me what you think."

The rabbit frowned as he read the signed statement: It corresponded to a maid who had described in a terrified way a "short creature, who looked like a dwarf" who had seen while returning to the house of her employers at nightfall in the middle of a dark alley. According to the description and what she was able to capture before running away, it was "completely black, black as ink", which suddenly ran in the opposite direction before the presence of lights at an "extraordinary speed" and when she saw it, it had made a "strange shriek, like a monstrous bird". In short, it was something never seen, it was something that...

"... 'didn't seem of this world'" Oswald read it in a low voice in the last sentence of the statement. Then he looked at the robot portrait made by the police: A short figure, almost an elf, completely black and stooped... Something that, in his long career as a hunter and expert in the supernatural, he had never seen before. He looked at Basil and frowned. "...I'd have to do more research to be sure, but it's not something I've heard before."

"Are you serious?!" Mickey said looking at him perplexed. Then he looked at the detective. "So... you want us to investigate this case, is that it?"

"I am forced to that, my lord. I beg of you; the police don't know what else to do. I have sleepless nights trying to find a connection that can solve the mystery... but this, as I mentioned, is something that seems more related to the world of the opposite... the dark world, a world from which both of you are related in various ways, gentlemen. Look at the other folios: There are reports of attacks in Wales, Scotland and Ireland, if this is not stopped soon, it can spread like the Black Death in its time, and it would reach your homes in the continent… Do you want that?"

…

Mickey sighed, leaning his palms against the doorframe, reflecting on Basil's last words that ended the first meeting and outlined the rules of the game that they would have to follow, whether they wanted to or not. Certainly not, he didn't want to do this: If it were up to him, he would take Mina and they would leave England in secret to whatever fate might be pleasing to them. Oh, how much he would have wanted something like that! A misty place, not very sunny, with beautiful landscapes that will delight the eyes of his beloved wife to make it even more unforgettable. A romantic getaway, like the one that Oswald had told him he planned to do... Yes, that undoubtedly sounded so, so tempting. In fact, it was even too simple: Vanish like puffs of smoke and go to happy romp in some remote place as if the next day the apocalypse was unleashed... But he also knew that, even though she also wanted to be alone with him and enjoy the joys of their unholy union, Mina would never forgive him: "Leave our friends in this mess? No way, we are in this together as we were a year ago when all this began, Mickey. And I won't leave them alone in this problem, so don't count on me if you plan to get away.". Yes, that she would surely tell him with a spark of anger in her haggard eyes... and he would end up obeying her. Oh, damn it, that female neophyte mouse really had completely subjugated him.

With another sigh, but this time an amused one, he turned to contemplate what was in front of him: A guest room of modest furniture, with the windows wide open to avoid the cold currents of air at that time of year. A pair of oil lamps dimly illuminated the sparse wooden furniture and dressing table accessories, especially the narrow, medieval-style canopy bed, where, all around the center, curled up and surrounded by cushions, was his greatest treasure in his entire immortal life.

"Mina... Minnie, are you awake?" He asked in a whisper, striding up to the head of the bed where he then slid his fingers down the long, smooth dark hair of his wife, receiving a soft growl from her... "Hehe, don't fool me, you're pretending to sleep because you're still mad at me, right?" Still not an answer from her. "Oh, is that so? Very good, you wanted it."

And then, without making the slightest noise, he pushed her long hair back to reveal Mina's long, fragile neck, where still were, still clearly, the marks of his teeth, which had condemned her forever to the same damned immortal existence of his. Sometimes, Mickey couldn't help thinking that maybe (just maybe), it shouldn't have been like that, that it had been so unfair to destroy the female mouse's fresh and innocent mortality, precisely what made him fallen in love so deeply and insanely of her... But he knew that nothing was worth regretting, destiny had wanted it, and he himself knew that if he could go back in time, he wouldn't change anything at all. As if he was reading sculpted braille from her beautiful fur, the vampire's fingers slid up and down the outline of her throat, delighting to see that, no matter how upset she was, she couldn't stop shuddering at his touch. Soon he dared more, playing with the edge of her nightgown, discovering one of her clavicles, dying to sink his teeth with all his strength... Although instead, he leaned over and slid his tongue to long until finally crushing his mouth against this, causing a choked cry from her: "Mi... Mickey!" Oh, that tone with which she had sighed his name was soon to make his blood boil of pleasure.

She leaned against one of her lovely little round ears and caressed it playfully. "The bed of Mina of angels is surrounded; Mina, Mina, you will be my beloved garment" (2) he crooned in a low voice, laughing silently to see her trembling before his breath so close to her ear... And more when he bit her earlobe, making her gasp. "I beg your forgiveness, my love, for having acted like that in the meeting. It's just that... this wasn't the honeymoon that I had wanted for you."

"…"

"I don't intend to flee to this challenge that fate has imposed on us, my dear. I am aware of Basil's words: I think of the safety of our friends as in yours and, above all, of our kingdom," he continued muttering, rubbing his face against her hair, "so I'll stay to help, so, the more soon finish, we can be free to enjoy our time together."

"...You really mean it, Mickey?"

"I give you my word with the same assurance that my love for you is eternal, my love," Mickey said emphatically, this time beginning to place soft kisses on the skin of her face, making her laugh softly. Finally, he managed to see the scarlet irises surrounded by blue circles that he loved so much, emerging from under the white cover with which she had covered herself to avoid making eye contact. Mina made a tired smile.

"I believe you and I will always believe you. Also, we are not alone. We are all in the same boat and we will arrive at port in the same way. I will support you."

"Have I ever doubted that?" He joked with a seductive smile that made the usual snowy cheeks of his young wife flush and then she give him a sweet smile, no doubt, absolute proof of her forgiveness and, as an extra gift, full permission to get close of her, which he gladly took advantage of: It was a matter of moving a few inches and take full possession of her mouth, snatching her breath while putting his hands on her cheeks, deepening the kiss. He felt Mina shudder even more at his touch, letting out muffled moans against his lips, opening her mouth wider to receive his tongue anxiously tangle against her as a pair of eels. "Oh, it seems she wants more," he thought mischievously as he felt her hands cling to his white shirt, as if trying to lean on him... or rather take it off. And of course, he happily assumed the second option, getting rid of it to feel the soft fingers of Mina traverse the warm fur of his chest. There was no doubt that, if they continued like this, they would end up giving free rein to their passions and, frankly, he needed it urgently: The heat of Mina's body, her hands, her kisses, everything was so intoxicating, like morphine or alcohol, all that made him fall, yearning for more, wanting more... And he had just slipped his claws under her nightgown, looking to feel her thighs...

"Mickey... Mickey... Do you hear that?"

"Oh, Minnie, I hear the sound of your breathing, it feels so good, you sound like... Screams?"

The pair of vampires interrupted their session of cuddles and sharpened their ears: Indeed, they were listening to screams from outside the window. Both jumped out of bed and ran to the window, opening it completely: Outside, everything was so dark it was hard to see around... Of course, they could clearly hear a terrified echo: "Murder, murder!". The vampire mouse reacted immediately: "Minnie, stay here!" Mickey yelled over his shoulder as he ran to the door, reaching the hall. He skidded almost reaching the door on the far right, where he knew that Oswald and Ortensia were staying. Without waiting to knock on the door, he simply pushed the knob with all his strength, breaking the latch and in the process, opening the door wide, startling the couple who moments before seemed to sleep peacefully curled up. "Ozzie, do you hear that?! Someone has been killed!"

"Did you hear it, too?" Mickey turned around when he saw Basil suddenly enter the room with Dr. Dawson, with his eyes bulging and finishing tying his red dressing gown over his white nightgown. "It comes from outside! Quick, we can keep track of it!" And without waiting any longer, they shot down the stairs. Mickey turned around again, watching Oswald quickly pull his Carabine out from under his pillow and grab his black gabardine. Ortensia, beside him, had also left the bed, taking her shawl on the run. Without saying a word, the three threw themselves to the stairs, reaching the front door, where undoubtedly, chaos had begun to form: Several houses had turned on the lights and even a couple of heads peered out the windows, asking themselves loudly what the hell was happened. Mickey sharpened his vampiric sense, noting that the echo was emerging from a few streets away from them.

"It's over there, follow me!" And they all ran in the direction of some alleyways to the right, lined with abandoned brick houses and a couple of factories. The echo of "murder, murder!" was now sounding louder and louder, until finally they stopped abruptly to a cul-de-sac full of trash cans and containers, with all with their senses on full alert, waiting for anything to appear... Until the thin figure of a small fox emerged from a corner and collided against Oswald from the back, almost making him fall on his back, which the rabbit avoided by holding him tightly by the arm.

"Hey, calm down! What happened?!"

"There... There... A terrible thing appeared out of nowhere and attacked my friend and me while we were sleeping! A completely black thin-thing that screamed horrible, looked like a kind of demon! And... and now... now...!"

"Where the creature attacked you?" Basil asked earnestly. The fox pointed with a trembling finger to a dark spot between two houses. Oswald and Mickey looked at each other at the same time and nodded. Leaving the fox whimpering in the hands of Ortensia and Dawson, they stepped forward accompanied by Basil, who had taken a lighter from his pocket and lit it, trying to illuminate the apparent crime scene, albeit poorly. They took a few more steps, prepared for an imminent attack... Until the faint light of the flame illuminated a body of a young rabbit, leaning against the dirty brick wall, completely open in channel along his body as if a train would have run over him, or more rather, he would have been passed under a blade of a wooden sawmill until he was almost cut in two. Basil gasped at the way his death so violent, while Oswald, horrified, looked away from such horrendous pandemonium of flesh and blood... And it was precisely by doing that he noticed that, along the wall and surrounding the body like a malignant halo, a black and viscous liquid, with a penetrating smell, was sliding down the wall with astonishing slowness to the ground.

"Check the whole place, maybe the creature could still hide here!" Oswald cried away from the corpse and back to the entrance of the cul-de-sac. There, everything was still and silent as a grave, only broken by the sobs of the little fox, shaking against Ortensia's skirts. Moments later, a group of police dogs in blue uniforms and armed with clubs came to where they were. He felt an exhalation that could only mean one thing: Mickey had vanished before they could see him.

"Detective Basil, we arrived as soon as we could! Is it true that there was a murder? Could you catch the killer?"

The expression on Basil's face was livid and white as wax. There was no doubt that the corpse's image would chase him for countless nights until the mystery was closed. "I'm afraid, gentlemen, this is just the beginning. Begin the lifting of the body, as soon as possible. I must... think."

Oswald and Ortensia looked at each other, knowing that, high on the rooftops of that sordid and abandoned spot, Mickey would be watching the rest of the scene and, definitely, thinking the same thing as them: Basil's words at the meeting resonated like a iron bell, echoing in their minds. "... it could spread like the Black Death in its time, and it would reach their homes in the continent ..." Would that reach Romania and the Netherlands?

They couldn't allow that.

To be continued.

Author's Note:

(1) Daguerreotype: Type of photograph or image in old positive that was obtained from a copper plate covered with silver iodide, beginning to be used since 1839.

(2) Adaptations of fragments of the novel "Memories of my Melancholy Whores" by Gabriel García Marquez.