Brewing of a Perfect Storm

Chapter Six

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

20 May

1 AM

Yet another sleepless night. How long will the damned dream continue to haunt me? I keep hearing her voice, keep feeling her lips on mine… Keep feeling the guilt, remorse, regrets, frustrations… While Lucy is asleep, I would read the entries of The Wonder. I have yet to open Alice's personal journal. For the time now, I'll leave it be. Everything is still so fresh and there hasn't been any progress with the grave robbing. Lucy says not to worry about it, but I can hear the apprehension and uncertainty in her voice, see it in her eyes.

I've also noticed that her mother has been… off around me. She's been less hospitable. Did she hear what I told Lucy? It had been early in the morning when we discussed it so the chance is slim to none.

I've been bedridden for the last three days. Tired, weak, deprived of hope. Even Lucy can't seem to make me feel better. That's a first. But Lucy has been more attentive, knowing what seems to upset me and she's there in an instant, holding me, whispering words of reassurance to me, yet it does no good and I only turn into a weeping mess. She's not done much better but she is capable of leaving the house, at the very least. She's fed me, watched over me… Last night was the first she… washed me and never had I felt so diminished.

"Can you stand?" she had asked. I merely nodded, grabbing onto her arms as she takes my full weight. I'm embarrassed but the lack of food has depleted me of strength. The walk to the washroom was slow and each step took far more energy than the last. "Sit," she whispers, helping me onto a seat. The tub was already full and still steaming which surprised me.

"Lucy, I can wash myself," I attempted to persuade her.

"No. I want to help you."

"That's all you've been doing. I need to go back to taking care of myself, eventually."

"Once you start eating and building your strength up enough to but as of right now, you're at my mercy."

I laughed softly, unable to help it as I thought back to where our roles were switched… Except Lucy wasn't ill, just tired. I felt my face heat up as I thought about it, Lucy not taking any notice though. I suppose I was too pale still. She stopped when she took all my layers off and it was then where I became fully aware of the situation, no longer in a tired stupor. I instinctively attempted to cover myself but Lucy gave me a reassuring smile.

"You don't have to be modest in front of me, Mina. We have the same parts. Besides…" She grew quiet momentarily, her cheeks and neck turning almost the same hue as her hair and I watched as her eyes took all of me in. She paused, whether consciously or not, lingering just a second longer below my waist before she quickly met my eyes again. "You look far better than I ever could." Her voice was but a whisper and she smiled with some form of success as my own cheeks became more flushed. "Think you can stand?"

I'm silent as I stared at the ground, my eyes closing shut before I admitted that I couldn't, knowing I'd only make a fool of myself, even more so. She wrapped an arm around my waist, gently helping me up and then down into the bath water, the warmth immediately soothing me and I had the urge to fall asleep right then and there. "Think you'll fall asleep on me?" she teased, lathering some soap. I was barely able to answer, just exhausted as I leaned my head back. I heard the light chuckle from her before I felt her begin to wash my face, her touches soft, gentle, caring. Like hers…

I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt her pull me into her chest, burying her face into my hair as she whispered in an attempt to console me but to know avail.

"You're thinking of her," Lucy whispered.

"She was as gentle as you… Despite how strong she was," I mumbled after managing to find my voice through my cries. "… I wish she could hold me again… I wish… I-…" My voice croaked and I was overtaken again, my heart aching. "Lucy, I feel so lost. I don't understand. She would be gone for weeks, even months on end but… But…"

"You knew that she'd return eventually," she finished which brought another wave of sobs.

"I never feared of her not returning, not truly. Her crew loves her. They would protect her with their lives. It was just so many… things that went wrong all at once. It was such unfortunate timing and everything was awful. It was a one in a million chance and… it killed her. Out of all people, why did it have to be her?" Such a cliché thing to say, I know. But… But still. I've always grimaced whenever I've read it in books who have blatantly copied other, better authors. Yet I can't help but feel it to be true… And it sickens me that it's the final outcome.

"Why does it have to be anyone?" Lucy whispered in return. "If it wasn't her, who would it be?"
"It got infected. It shouldn't have been anyone! He should have stayed to take care of her or at least left a competent doctor just in case things went south, which they did… And even that shouldn't have happened if he was monitoring her. The bastard failed her."

"Mina!" Lucy stared at me, shocked that the words even escaped my lips. I wasn't. I'm still not. I've never been this angry at anyone. It feels strange, abnormal. No part of me is proud of my anger, yet I haven't felt this hurt, especially now because there's a scapegoat. A scapegoat? Is he it? Just a scapegoat? No. No. He neglected her. He isn't a scapegoat, he's a murderer. A murderer who is more preoccupied with possibly getting a girl at Lucy's ball than treating a world-renowned merchant. "Mina… You're hurt. You don't know what it is you say."

"I speak with more recognition than I do on a daily basis," I mumbled, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees. I could still feel the tears but I'm far too exhausted to sob. "Lucy, I hate this. Just make the pain stop. Please."

"You will heal," she whispered. "I know that it hurt, but you cannot give up on life and hope. She wouldn't want that."

"Well, she isn't here, is she?" I grumbled, pulling away from her. She merely pulled me closer to her, refusing to let me wallow in my own self-pity. I wanted to shove her away, but no part of me agreed.

"If your vision is true, if what you said is true, then she's watching over you and she wouldn't want you to be so distraught over this. Anyone can see you love her and you're hurt but the best we can do is live with her in our hearts and live for her, how she would want us, want you to."

She has a point and I can't get those words out as they reiterate. Truthfully, I never thought that I would get over the death of my parents and I couldn't let go. But they're buried peacefully. They haven't been disturbed. Their bodies are still underground and they haven't' been murdered… or neglected, to soften the blow. Yet I believe, now more than ever, that negligence is a form of murder and should be judged as such. I haven't heard a word from Seward since he's been arrested and I refuse to call him by his professional name. I believe his title has been temporarily revoked until, well, if he's found not guilty. The other doctor is a different story. HE lives in Italy and I believe that the English law doesn't apply to him, so perhaps he is to be tried in Italy, yet no papers have been brought up. Coming to think of it, I should let Lucy get papers from Italy. I've been taking up Italian so I'll be able to translate here and there, enough to get the basic premise of the story.

I'm tired now and Lucy has woken. I hope not over me. She has been exhausted and my reliance on her is definitely showing. She sleeps soundly at night and barely anything wakes her, yet when she does wake, she still appears as exhausted as she was before nightfall, as though she has never slept. I have to do better. I might be broken but I'd be damned if I break her, too.

DR. SEWARD'S JOURNAL

They've taken more pages out of my journal and have been closely monitoring what it is I write. They also seem particularly interested in my excerpts with Renfield. I have inquired about that and they said that they want to see how I deal with the insane, if my "neglect" is a pattern. More than likely trying to find more evidence, I presume. But the thing that worries me, aside from being deemed guilty, is the return of my notes.

They've given no form of reassurance of ever giving me my journal back. I've inquired about it and they've said that it simply won't matter in the end, particularly if I'm found guilty. I have no fighting chance for I'd be hanged the following morning of the trial. I'm nothing but a cornered rat with a deliberating cat pondering upon what he is to do with me… Taunting… Giving some illusion of hope that I can escape unhinged, uninjured, alive. I wonder if they shall allow me to write up a will of sorts but I'm an enemy, a scoundrel to be cleansed the world of. What hope have I? Maybe I'm pitying myself. Maybe I shouldn't be this arrogant doctor… But I am a genius! A scientist ahead of my generation, my years, maybe even decades… The ink is drying and I've run out of parchment. There is nothing here for you, officers. Just understand that this whole situation is stupid… Never reckoned I'd deter to that word in a million years.

LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY

20 May

9 PM

Today has been utterly draining and I have no will in repeating it anytime soon. I decided to meet Dr. Seward where he's being held. He hasn't been compliant with much. Next to pulling teeth, although I could tell there was little to no regret nor remorse for his actions, or lack thereof. He's gone on and on, blubbering for help that he was certain I can provide and that his death would be on my hands if I sit back and do nothing. The absolute gall of the bastard sickens me, even hours after the meeting.

"You've no chance at compromising? It wasn't my fault! I though he was capable. If I knew-!"

"I'm not here to meddle with the legal process… I don't know the story. At least, not your side. I'm no officer for a reason, I can't help, even if I wanted to. It wouldn't be fair to Captain Kingsleigh, either."

"You'd leave me to die?"

"If you are not guilty as you plead, then you have nothing to fear. But I'm not here for that… I wanted to ask you a couple of things first. If you'd let me, that is."

He sighed, a look of defeat falling upon his features, although I did notice after a few moments of pondering an intelligent twinkle form in his eyes. He's conniving again. "Yes, of course. Ask away," he invited.

"The paper said that you sent a telegram to one of your friends, saying that you went to Italy to take care of Al- Captain Kingsleigh…" I had to stop myself from using her informal title. He might suspect but him finding that we were, at the very least, acquaintances, wouldn't help me in what I need to know. "You left Italy a few days later and were spotted here when I had the ball. You find it more necessary to meet up with friends than to take care of a renowned merchant?"

He shifted uncomfortably, knowing well what his answer was, trying to concoct an excuse. "To give up a chance to see a woman as gorgeous, as benevolent and as stunning as you," he began. I raised a hand to silence him and I felt anger begin to roll through my veins.

"You were hoping for sex?" I inquired bluntly and watched as his face grew pale and then a crimson hue. He didn't answer for a moment.

"No… I was hoping to meet you… To get to know you… Captain Kingsleigh was doing well, she was. Her fever had broken and her wound wasn't infected any longer, or so it seemed. It wasn't inflamed… It had been newly stitched. Everything was fine. She was even drinking water. She was aware, even. She knew what was happening. They were the signs of healing. It went askew, what more can I say?"

"How long had you been monitoring her?" He looked rather surprised that I wasn't impressed or confused by what he was saying. I've read plenty and his words were the textbook, simple vocabulary.

"… A few hours…"

"Infections can occur within that time and unless you've unbandaged it before you left, you wouldn't know if it had gotten infected again. Let's also take into account if the other knew how to properly dress a wound or treat it if it got infected again. You neglected her, Seward…" I became quiet, almost seething, angry on Mina's behalf.

He looked up at me, appalled by my tone. "No, I didn't."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I demanded. "Do you really think that since I'm wealthy and since I'm a woman that I know nothing? Nothing at all? That my parents wouldn't pay for the best teachers there are?" I scoffed, anger flowing through me. "Or is it simply because I'm a woman and privilege has nothing to do with it at all?" I tested and his eyes seemed to widen at out shock.

"N-no! No! Why would you-?"

"You doctors don't think too highly of women, I've noticed. Every family doctor I've met have always asked for a man of the house to explain any ailments, as if women are incapable of what it is you say. We are not idiots and we spend far more time studying than you could ever comprehend. You are out working in the day and drinking in the night. I see the local brothels filled with me, many of whom have women and children waiting at home. If you assume for a second that we are brainless, who are here for sex, cleaning, working and baring children, you are as dimwitted as I half suspected you to be."

I stopped suddenly, realizing the words that escaped. I never knew how much I resent the other gender… How much I resent the outlook that they have on omen, how trapped I am… Then a thought struck me.

"Did you leave her to die because she's more famous than you'll ever me?"

"What the Hell makes you think that?" he demanded now and I could tell that he became defensive. He sat up straight and his eyes locked with mine.

"The guards allowed me to look over your journal because it's now public property. And it seems that most entries… You've been more concerned about making a name for yourself than you are dealing with patients and profession." I held out a pile of papers. "I did have trouble since your script is atrocious," I added beneath my breath.

"You know nothing about me!" he snapped.

"I know enough about you to judge you," I quipped back, tired of his arrogance. "A dear friend of mine is dead because of you! I shall judge you as I please."

"You know nothing of the circumstances but lies and assumptions fed to you"

"I also have a copy of the telegraph to Arthur Holmwood." I took out the paper. "Seems as though it wasn't smart to make friends with him. The police said he was more than ready to give up what the telegraph said. IT seems that the gala was of much more importance of you, although I'm not surprised at this part.

"But you know what I've noticed during our little conversation? You hold no remorse for her death. You care only about your own fate, if you can survive-."

"You'd fight to save your own skin, wouldn't you?!" Seward interrupted me.

"I'm not the one who killed someone," I replied simply. "I only have one more question. Are you aware of her grave robbing?"

"No," he answered and I knew that was the only truthful response that I would get from him. I turned on my heel, thanked the officers and left, hearing Seward's yells of desperation and anger. I hold no sympathy for him… I figured perhaps talking to him, getting to now him, however short our time, would give me some empathy. I simply hate the bastard now more than ever.

"Did he say anything that we could use?" an officer outside of the jail inquired.

"Nothing incriminates himself, no," I responded. "When is the hearing?"

"Give it a week. We have to quest the crew, still." He paused. "They were close to her. One already tried to get his hands on Seward. We had to arrest two of them because they were about to kill him. The scene was chaotic."

"Do you know anything about the graverobbing?"

"No. We're still searching for leads. We've come up with nothing."

"Please. Let me know as soon as you can."

"Yes, Miss Westenra. We will."

CUTTING FROM THE DAILY GRAPH, 18 MAY

(Pasted in Mina Murray's Journal)

Local mad man, only identified as Renfield, found wandering around the defiled mausoleum of Alice Kingsleigh, muttering to himself that, "she has risen" and "Master is please". Despite being taken in for questioning, the police cannot get anymore out of him.

There is no concrete evidence that he is connected in any way with the disturbance and was later brought back to the mental asylum with no security capable of explaining how he escaped to begin with.

Locals around the cemetery have reported seeing a ghostly figure walking amongst the grounds, wearing the blue coat that the captain was buried in. They only see her past nightfall but she seems to disappear with a blink of an eye, some form of dead animal in her wake. Groundkeepers claim that it's strange for there has never been any haunting or ghost sightings since the first body has been buried in 1802.

JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL

20 May

Morning

The Count cut our visit short after we discussed what land he is willing to purchase. I just got onto a train back to Bucharest so around a five-hour journey, I have nothing to do.

I do miss Mina. I wonder how she's faring, too. Word of Alices passing arrived in the news quicky. I'm honestly not too sure how close they are for I've never, well, rarely been with both in the same room. Mina speaks so highly about her and I remember that she spent months creating something for her. Hopefully it's nowhere near as bad as Mina's parents dying and I hope that Lucy is a solid enough support for her.

Yet all of this seems to be too much of a coincidence. The Count said that he has business all over the world so Kingsleigh's passing might have affected some of his business.

The Count was adamant on me leaving as soon as possible and paid fully for my journey back, which I am more than gracious of, but a feeling of fear lingers, as though something evil lurks at home that wasn't there before. A killer of sorts. A demon, perhaps.