When the Werewolf that had been Ronald Talbot finished his victory cry, he turned to look once more upon the body of his victim.
But the Wolfman was gone. Bits of fur and flesh and a pool of blood were all that remained of his foe.
The Werewolf growled in surprise. Yellow eyes scanned the black water and the trees. Wait. Was that movement he saw in the trees?
Something heavy leapt out of the shadows and landed on his back. Something with yellow eyes and sharp white fangs.
Once more, the Wolfman lived.
The Werewolf struggled desperately, but this time the element of surprise was with his ancestor. The Wolfman hung onto his back, clinging tenaciously with supernatural strength while his human-like jaws distended themselves enough to allow him to clamp them on the throat of his descendant.
Fiercely the Werewolf struggled, but that very ferocity proved to be his undoing. The harder he struggled, the more oxygen he needed . . . and the Wolfman's vise-like grip on his throat prevented that.
Helpless, the Werewolf sank down into the mud. Darkness swam before his eyes and he whimpered softly, once, before the end . . .
Adam stood silently by as he watched Elizabeth Frankenstein pour over the delicate manuscripts and journals that were all that remained of his creator's legacy. From time to time, she would hold up one drawing or the other and compare it to Adam herself. "Amazing," she murmured. "Simply amazing."
"Your ancestor was a genius, my dear," Dracula replied as he moved into the laboratory. "Considering what he had to work with, it's astonishing that he did as well as he did in terms of the creation of our large friend here."
Elizabeth Frankenstein nodded. "And with today's techniques, I should be able to do even more. How soon can you get me research materials?"
She meant bodies, Adam knew. Fresh bodies to dismember and then to reform into a new life form. A creature like himself.
"Simply tell me your requirements, my dear doctor, and I'll make the arrangements," the Count told the last daughter of the House of Frankenstein. "I can have everything you need ready within a day or two at the most."
"Good," Elizabeth Frankenstein said. "Very good." She looked over at Adam. "Very soon, old friend, you won't be so alone. Before you know it, there will be an entire army of creatures like you."
Adam walked over to an antique mirror that was fastened to one wall of the laboratory. He glanced at the jaundiced face that looked back at him. His face.
He smashed the mirror with one giant fist.
Without looking back at the others, he walked out of the laboratory . . .
Morning.
"I'm alive," Ronald Talbot murmured hoarsely as he rubbed a hand against his throat. "It must have been a dream."
"That's what I said the first time I woke up."
Ron turned and saw a heavyset man looking down at him. He wore a tattered white shirt and torn dark trousers. He looked like he'd been through about a dozen different kinds of hell.
"Lawrence Talbot, I presume," Ron said as he rose into a sitting position.
"Yes," Lawrence said softly. His voice was lined with a perpetual self-loathing; every syllable he uttered seemed laden with a dark depression. "And you are my grandson."
"Ronald Talbot. My father was John."
"I know," Lawrence said softly. "I named him after my father. He was to be my hope that the darkness was finally over. That the curse was over. What happened to him?"
"He blew his brains out when I was eight years old." Ron said the words harshly. He could not keep the hatred out of his voice. This man was the reason his father had died. This man was the reason he had become a monster.
Lawrence Talbot gasped then, like a man who had just been stabbed in the heart. He covered his face with his big hands. "I have lost so many people over the years," he said finally, "that you would think it wouldn't hurt any more. But it still does- every time."
"He killed himself because he didn't want to become like you, 'Gramps,'" Ron said angrily. "All things considered, he may have gotten the better deal."
"What do you remember of last night?" Lawrence asked him, ignoring Ron's attempts to bait him.
"Everything. I remember the doctor- Frankenstein-"
"So he did find the offspring of the Monster's creator," Lawrence murmured. "I thought that he might have been lying to me. He's the Prince of Lies."
"He found her. She injected me with your blood." Ron closed his eyes. "I remember that. I remember changing. I remember fighting- Frankenstein's Monster and the Bride, and killing Veronica-"
"Veronica?"
"She was my girlfriend. She said she loved me." He shut his eyes. "And I killed her."
"I'm sorry-"
"She was Dracula's Daughter. She lured me here with promise of a cure- of a way to overcome that bloody temper I inherited from you! And instead- instead-" Ron stared into the eyes of Lawrence Talbot. "She damned me- just like you did!"
Lawrence Talbot looked into his eyes. "I didn't want that for you, Ronald. I didn't want that for your father. I left when my latest cure failed. I didn't want to risk hurting your father or grandmother. I had to get away- and then I ran into Dracula again. I've been his captive ever since."
"Why hasn't he killed you?"
"Dracula does not waste something that may be of use to him. Besides, he wants me to suffer more than that. I would welcome death, Ronald. I have been cursed for almost sixty years. Death- true death- would be a blessing."
"I killed you last night- didn't I?"
"Maybe. I find it hard to remember what happens when I am the Wolf." Lawrence's face twisted into a half-smile. "And I have died many times over the years. I always come back. The Wolf will not let me stay dead."
"I can't believe this. It's a nightmare. Some kind of hoax-"
"It is the truth, Ronald. A truth I would have hoped you would never know. But you do know it now. So Dracula has the notes of Frankenstein, both of his creations, and a descendant of Henry Frankenstein to carry on his work. He has to be stopped before he uses an army of such creatures against the world."
"Stop him? Us? You and me? Against Dracula?"
"He's helpless by day."
"But the Frankenstein Monsters aren't."
"You don't have to come with me." Lawrence Talbot rose to his feet. "Dracula and I have been fighting each other a long time now. It ends now. And with luck, neither of us will survive."
"With such a positive attitude how can you not succeed?" Ron said sarcastically. He looked around. "On the other hand, I can't stay here. I remember monsters- alligator things- and God only knows when they'll be coming back. I'll go with you as far as the Castle- then I'll decide if I want revenge more than I want to get away."
"Fair enough," Lawrence said. "Let's go."