Chapter X
Renfield prided himself to be a man of unshakeable convictions. And he had become convinced of one, solitary fact, in the last few days in that haunted mansion. That he was one inch short of killing both Alexander and Mina for their maddening, ongoing behavior. A new certainty had been creeping on him, that Carfax Manor had become a mental asylum, and nobody had bothered to notify him of the different arrangement.
Walking slowly through the spectacular, well-groomed gardens of the house, as it had been his habit every morning since they had moved to the mansion, he tightened unconsciously the grip he was maintaining on the useless book in his hands. There was no peace and quiet in that forsaken place, to read at leisure anymore.
Something needed to be done, and fast.
It had been already several days now, that he had been treated to witnessing the most pathetic spectacle pertaining to the vast range of human behavior, or – in his employer's case – of 'undead' behavior, if there even was something like that to be properly classified. He admitted to himself he didn't have a whole lot of experience about how a four hundred years old vampire was supposed to behave, but he had an inkling that what Grayson was doing, had finally reached the supreme level of madness. He had solemnly promised his lawyer that he would be able to keep up the charade with his wife, when in reality all Renfield had been able to notice was a slippery slope of childish behavior on his part, in these last days.
They should have killed that cursed Jonathan Harker, as he had wisely advised, but Grayson had flatly refused. And now his employer was prey of the most distressing fits of jealousy, an undead was capable of having. The present scenario didn't bode well for a speedy resolution: in the lawyer's opinion, Grayson was slowly losing the tenuous grip on reality he had been able to maintain so far, not counting the delusional conviction of having found the reincarnation of his dead wife, that is. He had even cancelled already two dates with Lady Jayne, and the lawyer had become very worried about that.
Renfield was not an ungrateful man. He recognized he had an inextinguishable moral debt with Alexander, who had saved him from certain death on more than one occasion, and had given him a new life, and an exciting one at that. As kindred spirits, he had developed an immense respect for his employer, once he had discovered the secrets and the tribulations he had had to endure for the past centuries.
He maybe was slightly biased, but even the most gruesome aspects of Grayson's fight for survival, didn't appalled him, as they should have done to any normal, breathing human being. He couldn't but consider that, from a strictly logical point of view, Alexander had done just what was required for his own continuance. He considered him nothing more and nothing less than a man with a terrible disease, an infirmity that wouldn't let him die, and just condemned him to an eternal life of misery, threatening the most appreciated part of his existence, his humanity.
This last adventure of theirs in London was going to provide the vampire with the very tools to regain his place among the living and obliterate the enemies that had made him a monster. The destruction of the Order and the retrieval of their secrets, had become Renfield's mission too, and he had worked with Grayson with passion to get every day a step closer to what had become their common objective.
And then Miss Mina Murray had appeared.
Renfield was still not very sure about how everything had started to go terribly wrong from there. He recognized that nobody was perfect, and least of all, a tortured soul like the one of a very old vampire. Maybe living so long and being hunted and tormented by his enemies, had made him slightly confused, in the course of the long centuries he had had to live. Memories are a sweet thing, but they also can be agony for a person forced to remember every day the gruesome death of his beloved wife.
Yes, Renfield repeated to himself, while taking a seat with a sigh on one of the benches of the garden, that was it: Grayson had just become confused, and in the process, he had put in jeopardy the very goal they had strived so much to accomplish, during all those long years. Certainly, it had been a blunder of spectacular dimensions, but who was he to judge the mysterious laws of attraction? And he was sure everybody deserved to find happiness wherever they could, even in a delusional conviction to have found the specter of their dead wife, bizarrely brought back to life. There was no need to be too judgmental about that.
Of course, then everything had gone downhill from there: if Grayson had only been a nice twenty-some lad with his first crush, a lot of heartbreak could have been avoided; but, Grayson being what he was, he had had to bring things to the extreme. Renfield shook his head in strong disapproval, at the thought of the series of demented, sick, torturous expedients Alexander had used with Mina, just to make her marry him. Alas, what they obtained in the end, had been no fairytale.
Presently, Mina and Alexander were not speaking to each other, to put it mildly. This marriage business was not doing a bit of good to either of them, and had all the potential to ruin their carefully laid plans about the Order.
He felt mildly uncomfortable with the methods employed by Alexander with his relentless pursuit of Mina, but he was sure that now it was too late to undo what had already been done. One way or another, now Mina had entered their world, and the sooner she embraced every aspect of it, the better. Renfield was a pragmatist at heart, and had even tried to explain to his stubborn employer, what the best course of action should be. Now Mina was one of them, and secrecy couldn't be maintained forever, and was no longer an option. Mina was the key: he needed to convince her to make peace, so to speak, with her husband, and then the vampire would be able to return to his more pressing matters with a restored mind.
It was undeniable that Grayson's secrets were of a monstrous nature, and he was mortally scared of revealing them to the love of his life, but Renfield wanted to think that Mina had an understanding nature. He liked her very much: she was a scientist, and shouldn't get scared too easily by a little bit of illness. Really, thinking of it in a rational fashion, what Alexander had, was nothing different from a disease of the body, the likes of which Mina should have seen aplenty in her laboratory. There was no reason why she wouldn't understand. Anyway, if things came to worse, they could always dispose of her, but Renfield was sure there would be no need for that: he was also a romantic at heart.
The realization was momentous. To ensure the success of all their previous scheming against the Order, it was his duty now not to remain idle. That would be the first time he'd do something in open disregard to his employer's wishes, but as the logical, rational person he knew himself to be, he considered that it was the best for all the parties involved, and especially, for the sake of the lifelong plan they had put in motion. It was his moral imperative to help those who couldn't help themselves.
With the warm glow of righteousness burning confidently inside his chest, he abruptly stood up and walked back to the house, the unread book now abandoned on the bench.
He climbed the stairs and knocked on Mrs. Grayson's door. Mina greeted him with her usual sad smile. Emboldened by the not completely discourteous reception, he proceeded with his plan. "Sorry to invade your chambers, but I have an important message to deliver to you. Mr. Grayson has requested your presence in the laboratory, at once." He didn't dare to add anything more, since he had learned that the best lies are the simple ones. "If you wish, I can accompany you there."
"No, thank you, Mr. Renfield. I already know the way." She turned to the mirror, and gave a cursory glance at her irreparably plain dress. "Are you sure he wants me there?" she inquired nervously.
"Very sure, Mrs. Grayson."
With a nod and a thank you, she was on her way.
The staircase to the laboratory was scantly lit, and Mina descended cautiously, wary of her steps and afraid of the mood she would find Alexander in.
After their visit to that club, she had been blaming herself for each and every one of the severe stares she had received from Alexander thereafter, on the rare moments in which they had actually managed to meet in that vast mansion.
He had asked her about Jonathan, and Mina recognized guiltily she had behaved in a horrible way. She had been sure she didn't love Jonathan, but hadn't found the strength to admit it to Alexander. Probably because she had still been angered by his treatment of her in front of Lady Jayne.
Oh, it was all too confusing. She felt pity for Jonathan, even if he now hated her, and justly so. She felt manipulated by Alexander. She felt betrayed by him, each time he laid eyes on Lady Jayne. She felt as if her life was not hers anymore. Consequently, she had been forced to spend the subsequent days locked in her room, because she was now unable to look at the man in the eyes, and didn't know what she could possibly tell him, even if she had been capable of having any sort of conversation with him. She was sure he despised her now. And today he had called for her. Maybe he just wanted to show her some sort of new discovery, she wondered with hope, and her heart warmed at the remembrance of her last visit there.
The vast space was mostly empty, now that all the machineries had been transported to a more appropriate building downtown, with sufficient room for their experiments, but maybe Alexander had retained some of his favorite toys at the mansion. She walked further in the semi-darkness of the place, until she heard muffled noises coming from an adjacent door. The other room was equally dark and slightly smaller, with a maze of strange apparatuses scattered about, which made even more difficult for Mina to reach the spot from which it seemed the voices were coming.
She peered over a tall console, and uncertainly navigated towards the center of the room. She heard an electric fizzle, like the one of the machines Professor Van Helsing had lent her once to experiment with at the University, and she proceeded more boldly in the direction of the noise.
A piercing scream froze the blood in her veins. She recognized at once that voice: it was Alexander's. She blindly ran towards the cry, and found her husband bound to a sort of infernal machine, his hair disheveled and his body still shaking from the aftershocks. Alexander was semi-naked, and she clearly saw the painful tension in each one of his tortured muscles. It was a scene vaguely reminiscent of a crucifixion. She was at his side, holding one of his restrained hands in anguish, without even realizing how she had gotten there.
"Alexander, what is this?" she asked with a terrified voice.
Still shaking with the aftershocks of the discharge, Grayson turned his head to look at her. "What are you doing here? Go away!" he bellowed, a terrified look of his own now in his glance.
Professor Van Helsing emerged from the shadows to interrupt the heart-wrenching exchange. "Oh great, we have company," he said in a very annoyed tone. "Since you are here, Mrs. Grayson, make yourself useful. Come here," he ordered sternly.
Still confused by the whole grotesque scene, but unwilling to disobey her most revered teacher, Mina walked mechanically to his station. She couldn't stop staring at Alexander, as if she had been hypnotized by the recent events.
Van Helsing sighed with impatience. "Mina, I need you to be alert. Start monitoring his heartbeat, while I recalibrate the instruments."
She looked down at the machine and her face blanched further. "It's barely beating. You're killing him. You are killing him!" She heard herself screaming, and sadly recognized she must have looked now like one of her father's patients.
"Let's not go into hysterics, shall we?" Van Helsing admonished her with a shake of his head. "That lecture is better than what he had before."
From the other end of the room, Grayson joined their slightly deranged banter. "Van Helsing, I want her out of here! And let me down, now! You cursed fool!"
The doctor plainly ignored the bound man's urgent plea.
"I will kill you with my own bare hands! I will peel you like a grape!" was the inhuman cry that followed.
Raising his eyes in an ineffectual prayer to a cruel god, Van Helsing tried to calm down the other, slightly more rational, hysterical person in the room. "Mrs. Grayson, Alexander suffers from a medical condition, it's as plain as that, and I urge you to be professional about it. I have been treating him during the past fifteen years, and we are very close to a vaccine. Given your former interest in medicine," he stressed meaningfully the last sentence, "I will permit you to assist me, but keep in mind I will not have you here if you are unable to control yourself."
Mina's training kicked in place, accompanied by a slight hurt at her teacher's rebuff. "Yes, Professor," she said with a vaguely calmer voice.
"Well then, in this case, I do need your help. You will monitor the vital signs of the patient. Here," he added, showing the woman a series of machines attached to her poor husband's abused body. "Ready?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Here we go, then." Another terrible electric shock jolted the bound man. Alexander screamed again in agony. Mina controlled barely her own scream, under the severe gaze of her professor.
"It's beating normally, now," she hazarded to say, with a trembling voice.
"Good. Let's prepare for phase two." Van Helsing went to move another horrendous machine in dangerous proximity of her poor husband. It had a cylindrical form, and ominous needles were protruding from its center. The doctor placed it over Grayson's chest.
Once in motion, the needles pierced suddenly Alexander's heart. Mina watched, frozen on the spot: her husband was in unbearable agony, and she couldn't do anything to help.
She proceeded to faint, a soft thud barely audible, while her body crashed almost delicately on the floor.
"Oh great," Van Helsing sighed in plain irritation, rolling his eyes.