*Note- this story takes place before the events in my other story, Castlevania Tales: Blood Under the Moon __________

"I am alone."

Claire Simonson stared into her dressing mirror. Her face looked so pale to her eyes. The bags under her eyelids were scars of several nights without sleep. Her dark black hair hung straight down. Each night before going to bed she sat before this mirror and stared at herself. The same thought always occurred to her and so she always said the same thing.

"I am alone," she repeated once more. Claire then turned to her bed. It was empty. Now she would lay in it, but it would still be empty. She stood up and slowly settled into the large king sized bed. She drew up the sheets to her neck and lay on her side. Claire stared through the window that was across from her. She stared until finally the grips of sleep took hold over her. Hours passed before Claire felt at all conscious. It was at this point that she began to dream. Claire dreamt of Arthur. She dreamt of his strong arms. She remembered how safe she felt inside of them. The feeling of his hand holding hers, and his breath against her neck filled her mind. When they slept together he would always sleep on her neck. Every night for more than ten years she would feel him, alive, lying with her in this same bed. Whenever she had trouble sleeping she would just listen to his breathing and try mimicking his timing. And when she did, she would fall asleep. Now Claire could hear his breathing. Instinctively she began to try to mimic it. Then she felt the soft touch of his hand stroking her hair. The touch, as well as the breathing, was so real, too real. Claire panicked and for a moment stopped breathing. Her eyes opened and she sat up to glance around the room. She got up from bed and turned sharply when she heard a loud thud. The window door had slammed against the wall. Claire closed it and turned to return to bed. Then she stopped and thought for a moment. She never opened the window. Or did she? Lying in bed Claire tried to think back to better times. She tried to think of the happiest moments in her life. Then she remembered when she was a girl. She remembered her best friend. A smile suddenly crept across Claire's face. Now she knew whom she wanted to talk to, only her best friend in the world, Rosa. ___________

"You are in perfect health," Doctor Smith said as he washed his hands in his sink. "I wish I had more patients in your condition."

Reinhardt sighed as he buttoned his shirt back on. "If there is nothing wrong with me, then you can offer me no explanation to my recent feelings of exhaustion? At night I am beginning to feel tired and I feel as though my body needs sleep."

The doctor crossed his arms. "Any human body needs sleep, yours is no exception." The doctor began to chuckle. "Really you speak as though you are accustomed to not sleeping at all." The doctor led Reinhardt from his infirmary to his office. Reinhardt sat in a chair facing the desk where the doctor sat.

"You know, when your previous physician referred you to me, he never mentioned what you do for a living."

"I'm sure."

The doctor sat in silence for a moment waiting for Reinhardt to take some initiative and tell him what he wanted to know. When he saw that Reinhardt would not talk he continued by leaning back in his chair and looking Reinhardt in the eye.

"Mr. Schneider, as I said, you are quite in perfect health for a man of your age. If you suddenly begin to feel that you have less energy and that your body yearns for the bed then there is only one diagnosis I can give you."

"Which is?"

"Age. Any man, if the most physically fit such as you must eventually adhere to the natural progression of our bodies. As we get older our bodies can no longer exert themselves as they once did. We begin to feel tired, we no longer heal so quickly or easily, and we even start to take longer in the bathroom. It is natural. All I can recommend to you is to continue you lifestyle, whatever it may be with only one small extra note. Listen to your body. When you begin to feel tired, take a break. Learn the limits of your body as though you were born again." The doctor snapped his notebook shut and stood up form his chair. "Keep fit but do not over exert yourself." The doctor extended his hand and Reinhardt took it.

"Thank you for your help, doctor."

Reinhardt closed the door of the doctor's office behind him and stood motionless for several moments. He watched as dozens of people walked passed him through the streets. Finally he took a deep breath and began to walk in the direction of his home. The wind blew in his face as he did. He felt a fresh feeling in his lungs. The air made him feel.young. Reinhardt smiled at this thought. "So, I've reached that point have I?"

For the next several hours Reinhardt walked the streets of London taking the longest possible route to reach his home. When finally he arrived, he was surprised to see a horse and carriage waiting outside. Several men were loading boxes onto the carriage. Rosa was standing outside directing the men who were loading. She saw Reinhardt immediately and ran towards him.

"Reinhardt!" She hugged her husband for a moment. "I am so glad you're here."

"Are we going somewhere?" Reinhardt pointed to the carriage.

"I've just received the most dreadful news, Claire Simonson's husband died several days ago. She has written to me asking for my presence." Rosa grabbed Reinhardt by the hand and led him into the house. "I've packed everything I thought you might need but look around our room and see if I forgot anything." Rosa then left Reinhardt to continue organizing the men who were loading the carriage.

With his hands behind his back Reinhardt turned to go up the steps to his room. "Right." ___________

After Rosa quickly arranged for their belongings packed for the journey, she and Reinhardt boarded a train bound for the area of Wallington. On the train Reinhardt listened as his wife reminded him of who Claire Simonson was. It had been at least five years Rosa and her spoke to one another. Rosa explained, "I suppose it's my fault really. We move about so often I have made so little time for keeping in touch with old friends." A smile crept across Rosa's face. "Great old friends. Oh Reinhardt I know I have mentioned her to you before. Claire, Andrew, Arthur, and I, we all grew up together. For some time my family lived in Wallington. It's a coastal town meaning that it is a port of many varied businesses. I remember my father almost got into the trading business with the Simonson's. Two girls and two boys. Our parents always thought we would marry one another."

Reinhardt grunted ever so slightly, "really? I wonder what happened."

Rosa smiled. "Jealous? You shouldn't be. They were more like brothers to me. Claire was the romantic. After all, she married Arthur."

"Yes, and Arthur is the one that died."

Rosa nodded her head. "I can't imagine."

"I think I have an idea." Reinhardt pulled a newspaper from underneath his seat. It was folded so that the page he wanted Rosa to see was on the front. "I picked up a copy of the paper. According to this he committed suicide."

Rosa leaned forward in her seat. "Dear lord. Whatever would have made Arthur do such a thing?"

"You knew him; do you think it was in his character?"

Rosa took the paper in her hand. "He was a very strong man, athletic. He was prideful, like his father. I can't think of a reason." Rosa began to peruse the article. "I can't imagine what Claire must be feeling right now."

Reinhardt left Rosa's side to check on Michael. The little boy slept like an angel in the seat in front of them. He had been so excited to ride in a train, and now, he was fast asleep. Reinhardt looked at his watch. In about three hours they would arrive in the train station at Wallington. ___________
For Reinhardt, three hours passed like the blink of an eye. After getting off the train they were met by a carriage ready to take them to Simonson manor. In the carriage Rosa carried her son Michael pointing out different things to him while Reinhardt studied the town. Wallington was a municipality on the southeastern coast of England. Its proximity to Europe, like several other ports on this tip of the country, made it a cesspool for trading, selling, and shipping. Reinhardt recalled that Rosa told him that the Simonson family was wealthy because it was one of the first shipping companies to settle in Wallington. Reinhardt couldn't help but think as he observed all the activity in the streets, that with so many legitimate businesses going around at all times of day, there must also exist an equal amount of illegitimate businesses as well.

The carriage took them on a road leading away from the town. Rosa explained that the manor was not in town but on the outskirts. Eventually the carriage took a long wide road decorated with neatly tended bushes on either side. Halfway through the road they passed the gardening crew working on keeping the bush's square shape. The bushes were littered with fresh pink flowers whose aroma could be scented from within the carriage. Moment's later Reinhardt saw the manor come into view. It was wide rather than tall. It stretched over a large distance. The manor seemed to be mostly two floors with some small sections permitted with a third floor, which were probably attics. The road they were on turned into a circular driveway where a small party of five was waiting for them. The carriage pulled up in front of the welcome party. A young man from the group opened the carriage door for them. Rosa stepped out first holding Michael's hand.

"Lady Rosa," an elder man standing in the front of the group said smiling.

"Fernand, how have you been?"

Fernand took Rosa's hand and kissed it. "Surely missing your company, mademoiselle." The man then turned his eyes to young Michael. "And this must be your son."

Rosa looked at Michael and prompted him to say hello. Michael hid behind his mother for a moment but then stepped forward and extended his small hand outward. Fernand smiled and took the little hand into his own and shook it firmly.

"An honor young sir."

Rosa turned the side and gestured to her husband. "This is of course Reinhardt Schneider, my husband."

Fernand gave Reinhardt a courteous bow. "When you wife was a child I made myself always at her disposable. As you are her husband I extend that same courtesy to you. I am at your service."

"Fernand has been serving the Simonson family since before I was born. He was always ever vigilant keeping one eye on all of us while we played. In fact I seem to recall certain priceless vases that were accidentally broken by the impetuousness of youth, quietly covered up so as not to get in trouble with our parents."

"It was nothing. The former Lady Simonson went to heaven believing that those vases I put away in the attic because they were clashing with the décor." Fernand shared a laugh with Reinhardt and Rosa. He then snapped his fingers and the party behind him moved to the carriage. "The servants will take you bags to your quarters. I will show them to you after you have met Lady Simonson." Fernand gestured for them to follow him.

Rosa caught up to Fernand, leaving Reinhardt to hold Michael's hand. "How is Claire, Fernand?"

"In all frankness? I am relieved to see you. The lady has not been well. I truly believe that seeing you will raise her spirits. It was only after she had written to you that she had us open the curtains to the house. The whole manor seemed shrouded in darkness for days. Today she is much better with the thought that you shall be here."

Fernand led them up the steps of the front of the mansion and through the two large wooden doors of the entrance. The first or central room of the manor was quite large. Towards the back of the room were staircases leading to the second floors, one left and one right. The left side of the manor seemed to comprise the amenities of the owners. Lounge, library, dinner table, etc were all on the first floor. The second floor seemed to be reserved for the sleeping rooms of the owners, guest rooms, and probably a few select servants' quarters. The majority of the servant's quarters were on the right side of the mansion on the second floor. On the first floor toward the right were the kitchen, laundry, and workrooms for the servants.

On the right side Reinhardt also saw a closed door. Surely a closet he thought, but Reinhardt could hear loud noises coming from behind the door. He looked down to his son and saw that goose bumps were forming around arms. Reinhardt knelt down by his son.

"Are you cold?"

"There is something wrong here Papa."

Reinhardt looked into his eyes and they stared right back into his. Reinhardt broke away from his glance and began to rub his hands over his son's arms to warm them. He then looked towards Rosa and the lady who was approaching. The lady had long dark hair that was combed straight down. The young woman looked the same age as Rosa and sported a long black dress. The lady of the house was still in mourning. Reinhardt vaguely recalled her face from one time they met in France. He compared the face he remembered from many years ago to this current one and found little resemblance. This Claire Simonson seemed pale. But it was not the natural paleness of say, his own wife Rosa but one of fear, shock, and anxiety.

"My old friend, Rosa!" Claire smiled as she ran forward to embrace Rosa. "It has been too long since our last meeting. What has it been? "It has been too long since our last meeting. What has it been, years?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. How are you Claire? I came as soon as I finished reading your letter."

"A mark of true friendship," Claire nodded her head. "Years in between yet when one is in trouble you still dropped everything to find me. I thank you." Claire hugged Rosa once more. "I must apologize; I do not even look presentable." Claire gestured with her hands to her lack of make up and the arrangement of her hair.

"Oh don't be silly, were like family here," said Rosa.

Claire smiled, "let me present you, my son, William." A young boy of the same age as Michael stepped out and bowed to the guests. The women both laughed at the bow and even more when Michael walked away from his father and shook the other boys hand.

"How nice, the two little men are getting aquatinted," Claire said.

Rosa once again gestured to her husband and presented him. "I believe you Claire met Reinhardt ever so briefly before."

"Yes, in France was it?"

"Yes, I believe so," Reinhardt said.

"Both of our husbands seemed occupied that day," Claire said with a hint of sadness. "But we had some great fun catching up that day didn't we Rosa?"

"Indeed we did, just as we will now."

Claire nodded. "William?" He child then turned to face his mother. "Why don't you show Michael your room and all the toys you have." The boy nodded and gestured for Michael to follow. Claire then looked to Reinhardt and Rosa. "I also apologize for the noise. Not long after.all that happened, we succumbed to an infestation of rats in the cellar." Claire pointed to the door Reinhardt had noticed before. Claire's face became serious. "Andrew has not taken these events very well. He ordered everyone out of the cellar so that he could fight off this rat invasion by himself. The noise I think is some kind of huge rattrap he's building down there. I think it is al just an excuse to not confront the truth." Claire stayed quiet for a moment.

Rosa looked to Reinhardt, "Dear, perhaps you could try to help him. After all, in your time you have had to deal with some rather large rats, haven't you?"

Reinhardt smiled, "Indeed." Reinhardt watched as Claire and Rosa walked away talking, leaving him alone.to help deal with rats. He approached the door to the cellar and was about to try the doorknob when Fernand spoke aloud.

"I wish you luck getting in. He is quite adamant that he be left alone." Fernand then left the room, presumably to seek other duties. Reinhardt stared at the doorknob and listened to the hammering sound from behind the door. Reinhardt turned the knob slowly. The hammering stopped. He waited several moments and then slowly opened the door. A figure was waiting for him behind the door and rushed towards him. Reinhardt grabbed the figure by the collar, tumbled back, and flipped him backwards. Quickly, Reinhardt stood up and turned to stand over the slim figure lying on the ground. He waited for the figure to turn and reveal his face. Slowly the man did so. He breathed heavily and coughed dryly. Reinhardt extended his hand. The man was about ten to fifteen years younger than Reinhardt, thin boned, light brown hair, and a prominent chin. Reinhardt had no trouble lifting the man when he did take his hand. He imagined that this scrawny figure must half his own weight.

"Andrew, I presume?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Reinhardt. I am accompanying my wife, Rosa, who happens to be an old friend of you and Claire."

"Rosa?"

"You didn't know we were coming?"

"I suppose I forgot." Andrew began to run his fingers through his hair. He was dressed simply in a white-buttoned shirt and black dress pants. The shirt was stained with grime and dirt, presumably from chasing rats. Andrew looked to Reinhardt for a moment. "What do you want?"

Reinhardt smiled. "The women of the house are chatting, the children are playing, and.well, my wife seemed to think that us talking might be beneficial."

"Beneficial for whom? Certainly not I. I am fine. Claire is over worried. I just think I can take care of the rat problem by myself!"

"Actually, as I mentioned before, my wife asked me to speak to you. I believe that from the glint in her eye she thought I could share some of my own experiences with you."

Andrew remained silent and began to examine his hands. Reinhardt continued to speak but could not help but think that Andrew seemed to look at them as though he forgot how they looked. "I too lost a brother, once. I lost him for nearly ten years. When I thought that I could have him back." Reinhardt turned away from Andrew and stopped speaking and remained silent for a moment. "I had to give him up." Reinhardt faced Andrew again. "So, as you can see, I too know what its like to lose someone." Reinhardt placed a hand on his shoulder. "If you need to talk, I think I will be in the area for sometime."

Reinhardt walked away thinking that their conversation could have been better. After stalking the halls for several minutes, he ran into Fernand. He had a servant show him the guest room where he and Rosa would be sleeping in. Fernand also informed Reinhardt that dinner would be served at eight o' clock and they were all invited of course. In his room, Reinhardt sat, staring through a nearby window watching as the sun slowly set. Rosa and Claire were probably still engaged in long female type conversation. Meanwhile, he sat and felt every second of time that ticked away. Reinhardt felt somewhat useless at the moment. The boredom was excruciating. A journey through the underground tunnels of Dracula's castle might prove at the very least passable than the eternal wait.for dinner. Two hours before dinnertime, Rosa returned to their room. She kissed Reinhardt on the cheek and promised to tell him everything after dinner. Before retiring to the dressing room she poked her head through the doorway for a moment.

"Oh, and I might after ask a great favor of you, at dinner, you don't mind? Of course not, love you!" Rosa blew a kiss.

"Right."

At eight o' clock sharp he and Rosa went downstairs to the dining room. The room was of course large enough for a long table to occupy the center. In total the table could seat fourteen people, six on either long side of the table and one seat on both short sides. Reinhardt, Rosa, and Michael were seated two seats away from the seat at the head of the table. The chair was obviously different from all the others and denoted that it belonged to the lord of the manor. In the seats across from them sat Andrew, Claire, and William in that order. Dinner was served and for silence permeated the air of the room. The only sound was of utensils cutting at the meat on the plates. Claire broke the silence.

"Reinhardt, I was surprised to hear that the both of you adopted a daughter. What was her name?"

"Carrie. Yes. After finding her orphaned in Transylvania I became her legal guardian. Several years passed, I married Rosa and I felt that she would be happy being our legal daughter. I think I was right." Rosa grabbed Reinhardt's hand as he said this.

"It was quite difficult. Especially when considering that she has lost two sets of parents, her real ones and an adopted mother that took care of her for sometime."

"Where is she now?" Claire asked.

"She is with a friend, Henry. They are traveling together. He is teaching her a few skills she was interested in mastering." Reinhardt responded.

"Rosa never quite explained to me how you came across her in Transylvania."

Reinhardt cleared his throat for a moment. "I was.searching for my brother, as I told Andrew earlier. He disappeared and I had reason to believe that he traveled to the castle where Rosa was being held."

"That must have been terrible for you. I was always against you taking the trip to Romania. Running off to Europe to study plants... it is such a dangerous area."

Rosa smiled, as did Reinhardt. How many times over the years have they had to recount the "truth" about where Rosa had been after she disappeared? Nobody would believe that recently revived vampires attacked the botanical expedition that Rosa was accompanying. No one would believe that a select few were taken back to the castle to save for food or that a curse was placed on her turning her into a vampire. Instead everyone believes a mad Transylvanian prince kidnapped and held her captive the whole time. It was a half-truth.

"Andrew, how go your inventions?" Rosa asked. She then turned to Reinhardt, "I don't know if I mentioned it to you but Andrew, ever since he was a child, liked to build things. He's a brilliant inventor."

"And a great scientist I might add," said Claire.

"A Scientist? What field?"

"Chemistry," Andrew said almost reluctantly.

"Any interesting experiments lately?" asked Reinhardt.

"A few."

"Andrew was always very intellectual." Claire mentioned.

Reinhardt nodded, "As was my brother. Our father always speculated that no problem was too much for us, so long as he used his brains to tell me what to do." Reinhardt laughed.

"I'm afraid my brother never got tired of telling me what to do or what not to do."

"Andrew.please, now is not the time to get into this."

"No." Andrew dropped his fork and knife and rose from the table. "It never was, and never is." Claire also stood up and extended her hand out as he stormed out of the dining room. ___________ "Dinner was interesting," Reinhardt said as he removed his waistcoat.

"You were not able to reach out to Andrew?"

"Rosa," Reinhardt looked at his wife. "That young man doesn't need any reaching out to. He just wants to be left alone." Reinhardt saw his wife sit on the corner of their bed, seemingly holding herself. Seeing this, Reinhardt placed his arms round her and she released her head into his breast.

"I have such good memories of this place. Yet, being here, seeing the reality, it as though nothing is as I remember it."

"Things change, my love. Even people can change." He began to run his fingers through her long blonde hair. "Why don't you talk to me about it."

Rosa nodded and positioned herself comfortably. Reinhardt did as well, sensing that this was going to be a long story. "Let start first by telling you about Arthur's death. The authorities rule it as a suicide."

"Any reason in particular?"

"As I told you before, the Simonson family has maintained its wealth through a lucrative shipping company. From what Claire tells me, for several months before his death Arthur was becoming extremely anxious. She confronted him many times but he refused to tell her. She tells me that his character became extremely.violent. He went so far as to begin drinking. One night, while in a drunken stupor, he told her that the company was going bankrupt. For months, shipment after shipment was lost. Those ships that did not return came back to say that they were boarded by pirates. The loss of so many ships was not only crippling him financially but his reputation as well. Thus explaining why he had deteriorated in such a way. After Claire heard this she became angry that he never told her and instead degraded himself by becoming a drunk. Arthur did not like being called a drunk." Rosa paused for a moment. Her hand went to her mouth and she seemed to be fighting off her tears. "Arthur hit her." Rosa seemed to calm herself. "Obviously she banned him from the house until he could compose himself in the manner that she had known him before. Claire discovered that he had gone to rent himself a room in a local inn. It was from there that she received letters from him. The last one, she says seemed hopeful. She said that he wrote to her saying that he had discovered the answer and that all their worries were over. He wrote to her and said he was going home. Naturally, Claire was relieved and assumed that he meant that he would return to the manor. The next day she received word that he had hung himself in his room."

Reinhardt's face transformed into one of deep contemplation. "The letter?"

"The authorities have interpreted it as him telling Claire his plans to take his life." Tears began to roll down Rosa's cheeks. "So does Claire. She is quite convinced."

"Why?"

"Because his death has saved them. Arthur had made arrangements that should he die, all of his money would go to Claire, everything in fact. Because of certain precautions, he took; Claire does not inherit any of his prior debts, only the wealth. So you can see, it seems that's what he had planned."

"You don't believe it do you?" Reinhardt breathed heavily. "His wife believes every word of it. The woman that spent her days with him believes it, yet MY wife does not."

Rosa stared at Reinhardt. "My love, I know what this might sound like. But think of it this way, I knew him well enough to know that I would never love him or marry him. He was my friend. I just can't imagine him doing such a thing."

"As I said, people can change."

Rosa embraced Reinhardt form behind and they lay on the bed together for sometime, in silence. It was Rosa who first spoke again. "Claire has asked me to ask something of you." Rosa could hear Reinhardt breathing heavily again. "Arthur's effects are still at the inn where he was staying. The inn has packed everything, all they require is that someone brings them back. Claire thought that Andrew would want to do it, but he has refused. She does not wish one of the servants to fetch so she asks me to ask you. Will you?"

"Right." ___________

Claire slept soundly as she had not for a long time. Speaking to Rosa had calmed her. She felt a little more at peace. She slept so soundly that she scarcely noticed the delicate touch of a hand caressing her face. Nor did she notice the soft whisper in her ear.

"Soon, my love. It will all be over soon." ___________

The next morning Rosa laid out some clothes for Reinhardt to wear on his trip to bring back Arthur's things. In less than a half hour Reinhardt was packed and ready to go. He only had the clothes on his back and his personal bag. Rosa stared at the bag which she knew all to well what was inside. Reinhardt grinned. "You never know." Rosa walked him downstairs and was about to walk him out to the carriage when Claire appeared from behind the kitchen door.

"Reinhardt!" Claire said exclaimed. "I wanted to thank you so much for this. I appreciate it very much. Andrew is still so affected by this, he just couldn't go."

"Reinhardt nodded, "I understand."

Claire looked back for a moment and saw the figure of her son, "William dear, come for a moment!" The young boy came at a slow pace and yawned on the way. The boy held something clutched in the palm of his hand. "What's the matter dear? Why are you so sleepy did you not sleep well last night?" Claire picked him up and held the boy in her arms.

The boy shook his head, "daddy played with me all night."

Claire's face whitened and became deathly pale. "What do you mean daddy played with you?"

The boy outstretched his hand and revealed what was in his hand. "He gave me this so long as I promised to go back to sleep." Claire took what was in his hand and stared at it horrified. She put her son down on the ground and she seemed to stumble backwards. Fernand who heard Claire over excited voice came running. "Its not possible!" Claire exclaimed before falling faint onto the floor. Everyone crowded around her and it took Reinhardt to push the servants back. "She needs air damn it!" Then Reinhardt turned back and took what was in her hand. It was a gold waistcoat watch. He gestured it toward Fernand who took it in his own hand. He slowly shook his head in disbelief.

"This belonged to the master." He handed it back to Reinhardt, "it was placed in his coffin with him when he was buried."

Hours later, Rosa and Reinhardt were once again standing at the entrance to the manor. Rosa hugged and kissed her husband. "Please be careful. This recent event has me worried now. What do you think it could be?"

"My professional opinion? Or are you asking for a rational answer?"

"Rational answer."

"The boy somehow took the watch out of the coffin before he was buried and dreamt that his father gave it to him. Or perhaps Fernand put another watch in the coffin. Perhaps even he thinks he put it there but he really didn't. Perhaps."

Rosa raised a hand, "Your professional opinion then?"

"One, he's not really dead. He faked his death so that his family could be safe. Two, he's undead, motivations the same. Three, he could be a ghost."

"Ghost?"

"Why not, we've seen them plenty of times before."

"But."

"But it could never happen to a friend of yours? Rosa, you know better than I do, all things supernatural apply to everyone."

"Is there a way to find out for sure?"

"Yes. While I'm I town, I'll have the body dug up."

"What!"

"The letter Claire wrote says I am the legal guardian over all of Arthur Simonson's effects until such time I return to this manor. I suppose I can twist the law into believing that includes his body as well."

"Reinhardt."

"Don't worry." He brought her head closer to his and kissed Rosa gently on the forehead. "I'll be fine."

Reinhardt boarded the carriage and almost instantly it began to move forward. He looked back and watched as Rosa's figure became smaller, replaced only by the vast emptiness of the road. In about the same amount of time it took to get from the train station to the manor it took to get from the manor to the inn.

"Wallington Inn," the sign read. It was oddly a three-floor structure. Entering beyond the front door immediately to the left was the front desk. On the right side was the pub area. Dead ahead were the stairs leading to the sleeping rooms. Reinhardt approached the man behind the front desk. He was short with a mustache and a monocle.

"How can I help you sir?" The man said smiling.

"My name is Reinhardt Schneider." He pulled a rolled up piece of paper from his vest pocket underneath his tanned leather coat. "This note signed by the Lady Simonson declares me the guardian of the effects of the late Arthur Simonson. I've been asked to bring them back to their manor."

"Ah, yes." The man read the letter with his manacled eye. "I always thought he was a good man. Twas the only reason I have held the room unavailable for so long. Out of respect you know."

Reinhardt nodded.

"I expected that right after the funeral they would have come but I suppose it is still quite a shock." The man got off his stool and began to search through some keys he had in his pocket. The man then gestured for Reinhardt to follow him. Together they went up the steps to the third floor. The room Arthur Simonson had used was the last one of the hall. Inside the room Reinhardt's eyes were attracted first to the large window. Being the last room of the hall meant that the room's window overlooked the front of the inn as well as the harbor.

"Grand view."

"For Mr. Simonson I gave the best."

"You knew him well?"

"A tad. He and his associates would hold some parties here, some meetings as well. Or they'd come just for the food and drink."

"Associates?"

"Mr. Simonson's shipping business was to big to be run by just one man. Their company was a family company. All of the bosses had been in the business, as had their fathers. There were four of them, not counting Simonson."

"Where are they now?"

The man remained silent for a moment. He shook his head before speaking again, "they're dead."

"All four of them?"

The man nodded.

"What happened?"

"Two of them were very old gentlemen. They had walked with Mr. Simonson's father and had no sons. They say both their hearts just gave way. The other two were the youngest of the lot. Used to be lawyers before their father's died. Then they took up the company business. They both died in a fire. One was visiting the other and boom! The house goes alight." The man stopped then pointed to some cases that were next to the bed. "That's what you're here for. Everything's all there. There is a list on top of the big case so that Miss Simonson can feel confidant and all."

"Thank you." Reinhardt said. The man was about to leave when Reinhardt called to him. "What happened to Simonson's pocket watch?"

The man pondered for a moment. "Umm.not sure really. I think the brother took it. Which is odd you know. I was busy at the time but I thought I saw him visit Mr. Simonson. I think it was the night he died. Of course it couldn't have been, could it?"

Reinhardt stood silent.

"Anything else?" The innkeeper asked.

"I wonder if I could ask you a favor. I'm not leaving immediately. I have something else I must attend to. Could I leave the bags here until I come back?"

The man nodded. "A few more hours won't hurt. Just if I was you, I'd hurry. There's a storm coming." The man pointed through the window. Just beyond the horizon the clouds were turning gray.

Reinhardt left the stagecoach at the inn and told the driver to wait for him there. On foot, Reinhardt headed for the church, specifically the cemetery. Reinhardt found the head of the parish tending to the church garden. Presenting himself in the same fashion as he did to the innkeeper, Reinhardt went straight to the point.

"I loathe to ask this of you father, but I will need the body to be exhumed."

The elder priest's face lit with anxiousness. "Absolutely not! The man has been laid to rest not even a month ago. It is out of the question. If there had been any examinations to be done on the body they were to be done before the burial."

"Certain events have transpired to."

"What events? What reason?"

"I have reason to believe that there might have been a case of grave robbing!"

"Impossible, Mr. Schneider. If such a thing happened I would know about it."

Reinhardt pulled from his coat pocket the gold watch. "Then why is this in my hand." The priest stared at the watch as Reinhardt continued. "Father, Arthur Simonson's servant swears that he placed the watch himself in the coffin."

After several hours, the priest called the gravediggers and allowed Reinhardt to question them. The local police was also called and insisted that the grave be dug up. The day was becoming dark when the two diggers reached the coffin.

"Open it." The officer said. The digger did as ordered. When the lid had been lifted the priest immediately called out to the heavens. "Oh my God."

"Dirt," Reinhardt said.

The officer turned to Reinhardt, "what does this mean?"

"It means that a weighted coffin was buried."

"For what purpose?"

"I have a better question. It came to my attention that the four men who worked with Arthur Simonson have been found dead."

"Yes."

"And no one had suspected foul play?"

"Absolutely not. The old men both died from a natural stoppage of the heart, the other two in a fire. No signs of sabotage were found."

"Heart failure? And your sure there was no sabotage?"

"Certain."

"Damn!" Reinhardt stormed away form the gravesite. After some final words with both the officer and the priest he made his way back to the inn. At this point it was raining, heavily. The inside of the inn was crowded. When the innkeeper saw Reinhardt he called to him.

"I'm afraid you are going to have to stay the night. Your driver asked me to tell you that he was going to sleep because it was too dangerous to travel with this storm."

"Do you have a room?"

The short man smiled. "Why of course, you get to sleep in the dead man's room. Or so they're calling it now." The short man pointed to the stairs. Reinhardt followed his gesture and looked up the stairs.

"Right." ___________

Reinhardt removed his water soaked coat and threw himself on the bed. He mind began to ponder all of the details that were before him. Arthur Simonson was the wealthy owner of a shipping company. The business begins to go bankrupt and so he takes out his anger on his wife. His wife throws him out. After sometime he comes up with the idea of killing himself in order for his wife to inherit everything except his debt by virtue of the fact that no single person can inherit a whole company's debt when it is shared by four other people. Nevertheless, those four people begin to drop dead like flies. Meanwhile, Simonson's boy is receiving gifts from his dead father whose body is no longer where it is supposed to be.

"So many details but nothing to connect them." Reinhardt could not help but think, "if I had only one more clue. It was then that a knock came to the door. Reinhardt instinctively reached for his sword before opening the door just an inch. It was the innkeeper.

"Arthur Simonson once told me that he knew why his company was going bankrupt. It might also help you to know that he kept a journal." The short man then walked away. Reinhardt stuck his head out into the hall and watched him disappear down the steps. He then closed the door and ran for the inventory that the innkeeper had mentioned. He scanned the list for the word "journal."

"The box with tag numbered four," Reinhardt pushed the other boxes aside and opened the case. The red leather bound journal was the first item on the box. Reinhardt sat on the bed and cradled the journal between his legs and began to quickly scan through it.

Starting to read from the day Arthur checked into the inn, Reinhardt read how Arthur was at first scornful and loathsome. He cursed his wife and the whole world for what was happening to him. Some passage went so far as to allude to certain hairy events between he and his brother. No doubt this was what Andrew was referring to at Dinner the other night. Apparently they were always deeply jealous of one another. One startling revelation was Arthur's suspicion that Andrew still loved Claire. Reinhardt would have to ask Rosa about that. As days went by Arthur seemed o emerge from his drunken state and return to try and discover what fault had caused his business to come under such attack from lost shipments and pirate attacks. It was on November 16th, the night before he "hung himself," that Arthur wrote all.

November 16th

At last I have discovered the truth! After scouring our account books and my own memory I believe I have pieced together this conspiracy at last. The four men I have trusted most with my business have turned their back on me.

Reinhardt read as Arthur described that the two elder men had no heirs and had no one to leave their fortune to. They apparently wanted no more to do with the business but knew that Arthur would not let them retire, as they wanted. Retiring would mean that they could leave their share of the business to who ever they wanted. Knowing that the elder men would leave their portions to the two younger men, Arthur took steps to prevent them legally from doing so. Arthur knew that act would have given the younger associates more control over the company than Arthur had. With that plan having failed, the four conspired to destroy the company from within. The young associates, made contact with certain pirate entities, which for a percentage of the profit, began to attack all of Simonson's ships. The young associates provided them with the routes and the pirates would steal and sell the cargo.

The date on the entry was the day he died. Reinhardt turned the last page of the journal. On the other side was a collection of various papers all pointing to the conspiracy. Arthur Simonson went so far as to get signed depositions from dock loaders, employees' from within the company etc. Underneath it all was a small piece of paper. It was an address of sorts. It was a pier number accompanied with a date and time. The date was tomorrow. Reinhardt thought that perhaps, considering that it was a pier number this might be the location of the pirates who were raiding Simonson's ships. The date might be the day they were setting out to sea. If so, the fact that their employers are now all dead they might find it prudent to escape before anyone discovered anything. Reinhardt stood and looked out the window. The once beautiful vista was now filled with the blackness of night and the torrential ran storm that was outside. The ship would not dare set sail in this weather. They too must also be waiting out the storm. Reinhardt grabbed his coat, his bag, and jetted out of the room. On his way down the steps Reinhardt saluted the innkeeper and went out the front door.

The rain hit Reinhardt hard all over. The thousands of drops felt like small rocks beating against him. "I was soaked already," Reinhardt thought. He then turned in the direction of the bay and started to march.

The greatest difficulty Reinhardt encountered was not walking through the pouring rain but finding the sign with the pier number he searched for. As it turned out, the pier he quested for was at a far and desolate corner of the bay. Even in the rain Reinhardt could tell that this area was a much seedier locale than the rest of the city. Walking out to the pier Reinhardt found a single bridge from the pier to the ship. He could see no one standing guard on deck. The only evidence of life came from several lights that were lit below deck. Reinhardt crossed the walkway from the pier to the ship cautiously. Luckily the rain drowned the sound of his footsteps. Nevertheless, when he reached the deck he was careful not to make so much noise when walking on the surface of the deck. As he had seen before, the deck was deserted. Towards the aft of the ship was a cabin, presumably the captain's. Reinhardt pulled from his bag the familiar hilt of his chain whip. He held the hilt in one hand and wrapped some of the chain around the other. Reinhardt neared the cabin window. Discreetly, he peeked through it. Suddenly Reinhardt ducked to the ground when he saw a figure rushing towards the window. Leaning on the wall of the cabin Reinhardt felt that a body struck against the wall on the opposite side. Reinhardt strained to listen in on the conversation.

"Enough of this petty complaining! As soon as it is daybreak we set sail. Not a moment before!" A voice boasted loudly. "I don't want to hear nothing else about this damned ghost! Them old men died old and the other two devils probably drank and smoked the place up. There ain't anything supernatural about that."

Another voice, half mumbling spoke as well, "but so soon after that Simonson fellow hung himself?"

"Who cares? It was a bloody miracle the man decided to hang himself. It means no evidence!"

A fluttering sound broke Reinhardt's attention away from the conversation. He looked aloft and just for a moment, he thought he saw something moving among the masts. It was at that moment that Reinhardt realized that the conversation from the cabin stopped. The door to the cabin popped open and two men stormed out. A third man was inside ringing a bell. Five more men came out from the lower decks. On the deck Reinhardt was surrounded. The last man from the cabin came out into the rain. From his clothes he seemed to e the captain of the ship.

"Well, well." The man ran his fingers through his thick black beard. "What do you say lads? Could this be the 'ghost' that has you all wetting yourselves like babes?" The group agreed with a low mumbling growl. "Well, then lets have ourselves an exorcism, shall we?" immediately the crowd charged at Reinhardt. Unwrapping the chain from his hand, Reinhardt swung his whip in a wide circle and struck down a few over enthusiastic pirates with the morning star of his whip. Next he picked a pirate at random and began to intimidate him by swinging his whip quickly and in different formations. Reinhardt waited for another pirate to think he could get close behind him without noticing and then ducked to the ground and let the swing of his whip take down two more pirates. The deck was slippery so that Reinhardt did take out two more pirates but when he ducked down he slipped and fell to the ground. The remaining pirates pressed their advantage and grabbed him before he could recover. Two strong pirates held Reinhardt up so that others could take turns punching him. Most went for his gut but a few went for his face. Finally the captain stepped forward.

"What were you doing here? Are you the one who killed them business men?"

Reinhardt looked up slowly, "did you kill Simonson?"

The captain was angered by the question and struck Reinhardt across the face. "I'm asking the questions!" The then captain backed off for a moment. "We didn't kill any of those rich blokes. Two of them called US and paid US to rob from their own ships. In exchange, we get half of what they were worth. It was steady work. But we didn't kill them businessmen or that Simonson fellow. He hung himself." The captain then came close to Reinhardt's face. "Now, what have you got to do with this?"

"Somebody killed those men, and I don't think Simonson killed himself."

"My crew thinks it was a ghost." The captain then pulled something from his coat. It was a pistol. "Personally, I think it was you." He pulled the hammer back on the pistol and aimed it at Reinhardt's head.

"I know where the proof against you is. Kill me and someone else will find it and you!"

"I doubt that." The captain pressed the tip of the barrel against Reinhardt's forehead. "Time to make peace with your." An explosion behind him suddenly broke the captain's words. Instantly he turned to see his cabin on fire. "What in the bloody hell!"

The two pirates holding Reinhardt released him and he fell to the ground. He could here gunshots and the sound of bodies hitting the deck. The voice of the captain echoed in the stormy wind saying, "What devil are you!" Finally Reinhardt heard the sound of a knife breaching through flesh and another body fell onto the deck. Slowly, Reinhardt crawled along the deck of the ship. His hand reached for the handle of his chain whip and he turned to face the mysterious attacker. Even though they were surrounded by fire Reinhardt could not see the face underneath the cloak of the black figure standing above him. Reinhardt tried to stand himself but the rain had made him feel heavier and he could still feel the pain of the blows dealt by the pirate men. He cursed his frail body but nevertheless made a failed attempt to raise his whip arm. The figure approached him and offered its hand. At that point Reinhardt fell unconscious.

Reinhardt awoke to the mustached face of the innkeeper. "How do you feel?" He asked. Reinhardt clutched his head and then his chest.

"I've been worse, I think." Reinhardt looked around him. He was back in Arthur Simonson's room at the inn.

"What happened?"

"I thought you would tell me."

"Who brought me here?"

"I am not sure, but I think it was Arthur Simonson."

"What!" Reinhardt felt his head throb at the sound of that response. "What else? What about the ship."

"So that's where you were." The innkeeper whispered. "The ship sunk in the harbor. Someone lit a very big fire."

"How long have I been out?"

"Since last night. It is about three in the afternoon."

Still rubbing the back of his head Reinhardt stood form the bed and began to dress himself in the first clothes he could find. They were the same from last night but much drier. "Not that bad. I must get back to the manor."

"I expected as much. The driver is waiting downstairs for you, everything packed."

Reinhardt picked up his personal bag checked it and found that his chain whip was already there. He then headed for the door. Before exiting he turned and faced the innkeeper with his hand extended. "Thank you."

"A pleasure. Just be wary. I am not lying to you when I say that I think that it was Arthur who brought you here last night. I could sense that he was not the same man as before."

"Like a man who has been to hell and back?"

"I cannot say for sure."

Reinhardt nodded. He then ran downstairs and found his driver. His instructions were to break all records and get back to the manor as soon as possible. Four hours passed before they finally reached the manor. When they did, Reinhardt was surprised by the emptiness of the place. No servants to greet him at his return. Fernand was nowhere to be seen. The inside of the mansion was quiet as well. Reinhardt instructed the driver to bring all of the bags and cases into the house. Meanwhile Reinhardt was puzzled by another set of packed bags by the entrance.

"Rosa! Rosa where are you?"

"Reinhardt!" came the reply. He looked up and at the top of the stairway Rosa stood. When she saw him she came running down the steps and he returned the gesture by running towards her. They embraced and kissed one another. Her hands passed over the scars on his face.

"Good God, what happened my love? I was worried when I saw how late it was and you had not returned. I don't know what happening any longer."

"What do you mean? Whose bags are those packed by the entrance?"

"Andrew's. Apparently he went somewhere for an experiment of his but he has returned angrier than ever. For some reason he sent away all the servants, including Fernand."

"What does Claire say about all this?"

"She doesn't know, right now she's like a child. She won't question him and won't let me either."

"How long ago did Andrew get back?"

"Mid day I think."

"The right time for someone to get here who had had a head start!" Reinhardt separated from Rosa. "Where is he?" Reinhardt began to run throughout the house. "Where is he!" He yelled. Rosa tagged along behind him. He finally found him in the study sitting behind a desk reading. At first Andrew looked at him surprised, afraid even. Reinhardt's face was one of anger. He stood on the opposite end of the desk and stared at Andrew.

"What is happening in this damned place? What sort of plot is this?"

"I have no idea what you're." Reinhardt reached over the desk and punched him across the face. Rosa who was standing in the doorway came running into the room. Soon after, Claire also came running. Rosa held Reinhardt back while Claire tended to Andrew. "Come along Reinhardt lets get you out of here!" Rosa said to him, pushing him slowly out of the room.

Claire was kneeling on the ground and had Andrew's head on her lap. She pressed a handkerchief against his lip where Reinhardt broke it. "Oh Andrew, why are you behaving so difficult?"

Andrew coughed slightly and laughed at the same time. "He punches me like Arthur did."

"Arthur did not punch you."

"Yes he did. You just tried to forget."

"No, Andrew!"

Andrew took her hand and stood up. "Yes. You loved him so you forgot everything. I did not have that luxury."

"Andrew," Claire placed a hand against his cheek. "That was such a long time ago. I do remember. It just, he was my husband and I loved him. I just lost him and I chose now to remember the good things. I more than anyone else know how bad a temper he had."

"And how jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Yes! Jealous. He was because." Andrew stopped.

Claire stared at him. "Why would he be jealous?"

".because I loved you. That's why he hit me so many times. So that I would feel weak. So that you would not love me. He wanted you for himself!"

Tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Andrew.no."

Andrew suddenly lanced forward and kissed Claire on the lips. He pressed hard and wrapped his arms around her to keep her locked in. Claire struggled to let go. Finally she got an arm out and slapped him across the face. With a deluge of tears running down her face, Claire ran out of the room. ___________

The voice cried out form the darkness.

"What are you doing?"

"What are we doing?"

"No! You were behind this!"

"Who am I without you? What are you without me?"

"Weak."

"Yes."

"Claire."

"We love her. We must guard her."

"Yes." ___________

Reinhardt's eyes opened. He hoped that Rosa might be sitting over him, watching him. She was not. Silence permeated the air. Reinhardt was immediately alert. He rose from the bed and scanned the room for his bag. Slowly he walked towards it. The bag was already open. His whip was gone. Reinhardt cautiously made his way to the hall. No one was about. Standing from the top of the stairwell, Reinhardt could see that the door to cellar was open. Light was emanating form within. Reinhardt had lifted his left foot less than an inch form the ground when he felt a blunt object strike him against the back of his head. He fell down the steps instantly.

The feeling of something brushing against his feet awoke Reinhardt. His instinct was to shake his foot loose of whatever it was. It had been a rat. Reinhardt tested his arms. They were tied behind his back to a wooden chair. He looked to the ground and followed with his gaze the route that the rat took. The rat scuttled across the ground to a half open wooden box. Although he could not see it completely, Reinhardt knew what was in the box. Turning his head from left to right, Reinhardt inspected his surroundings. The cellar did not look like a cellar any longer. As he had suspected, Andrew locked away the cellar from everyone so he could make some renovations of his own. The ground was filled with the remains of wine bottles that Andrew had turned to the ground to make room a half a dozen wooden tables he had built around the cellar. Standing a few feet in front of Reinhardt was a blackboard with many formulas written in white chalk. On top of the various tables were various beakers and cylinders filled with multi colored liquids. On one table, surrounded by candles, lay Claire, unconscious. To Reinhardt's left was Rosa, also tied to a chair.

A knife suddenly appeared before Reinhardt's eyes. Andrew emerged into view from behind him. He was dressed in a black outfit similar to the one of the figure that he saw on the pirate ship.

"Did you kill your brother Andrew? If so, why are you avenging the wrongs committed to him in life? Did you help to destroy his company?"

"Yes.and no."

"To which question?"

"You're the detective, you figure it out."

"Damn I, Andrew! I am not a detective. I am trying to be your friend."

"Friend? I think not. You and Rosa are trying to turn Claire against me. You don't want her to love me! She spurned me, and it is all your fault. She always loved me!" Andrew yelled fanatically. Then there was a sudden change. He walked differently and talked calmly. "Claire, I am sure, told you that I was a scientist. Correct?"

Reinhardt nodded.

"I am particularly fond of chemistry. I find it fascinating to study different chemicals. Recently, I also became interested in something else, electricity. Specifically I began to study the electric activity in the human body. You see the brain sends messages to locations all over your body through electrical impulses. In the course of my studies I discovered that every human being has a distinct electrical pulse. Our brain governs everything that we do. The brain emits a unique pattern for every individual. That is why different people move, speak, and think differently. The pattern for all their impulses is different. Now, my experiments yielded to me the ability to graph the pattern of a person's pulses. After graphing them I found I could synthesize a chemical that would alter my own pulse pattern to conform to another persons. I could therefore predict or in other words act as another person would."

"Dear God," Reinhardt's eyes widened.

"What does this have to do with my dear brother? Well, many years ago I fell in love with a woman. That woman was Claire. My brother convinced that she was wrong for me. I believed him. I watched him steal her for himself! But I never forgot. When he revealed that the business was going under and I saw how he was distancing himself from Claire I thought I might finally have my chance. Then, he did the worst thing imaginable. He struck dear Claire. I thought he had done me the favor of forever ostracizing himself in her eyes. Without him I was free to move in and finally release my feeling for her. But then he wrote that damned letter. Saying how he had changed and that things would all be better! Fah! He was taunting me. So I went to town. I went to see him. And yes, I killed him. I wrapped my fingers around his neck and killed him. To hide my finger marks I hung him from the roof with a very bad rope. It scratched his skin in such a way that unless you knew to look, any mortician would just write off his death as a suicide."

Reinhardt watched Andrew as he paced back and forth. When he confessed to killing Arthur he saw that he walked towards the wooden box, looked down, and smiled. Luckily for Reinhardt, Andrew seemed not to notice the slowly movement of his hands behind the chair, or the discomfort on his face as he tried to squeeze his hand through the knot of the rope.

"I thought that his death would solve everything. I was wrong. Even in death he made my life miserable. Claire became depressed. That is when I had an idea. If Claire would not love me as me, perhaps she would love me as him. I procured the body before it was buried and hid it down here. The side effect of that was that the rats started to come. But by taking responsibility I removed the threat of anyone discovering that I hid the body here. It also gave me a chance to build a semi laboratory down here, to finish what I started. I copied by brother electrical pulse into my own body. While in that state I discovered everything that my brother felt for Claire. I found I not only replicated a pulse that would make me act as he would but I could remember things I never lived. I remembered Claire, her body, her hair, everything. I sneaked into her room and coaxed her to sleep." Andrew's face seemed to light up. The memory of living as though he were his brother actually made him happy. At this point Andrew began to work on something behind a table. He began to mix certain liquids and then heat them above a small flame. When he had finished preparing some kind of formula, he inserted it into a syringe.

"There were of course some side effects. You see, the more I used the formula, the more I acted as my brother, the more I became him. Even after I turned to normal again, I could still hear his voice, up here." Andrew touched his temple. It was then that I realized that we."

Andrew's voice suddenly changed. It was deeper. Although Reinhardt did not recognize it, he could surmise that it was Arthur's voice.

".Were one and the same." Andrew began to speak again. "Arthur lives inside me, always."

"So what do you need the formula for?" Reinhardt said trying to hide his clenched teeth.

"I have given my brother voice. Now I must give him form!" Andrew pricked himself with the syringe and injected himself with the liquid. He began to scream instantly. All over his body, veins started to pop outwards. His head creaked left then right and then left again. His eyes seemed to be bulging and his skin seemed to be turning into rubber. The hair on his left side started to grow slightly longer and changed color. In fact, the features on his left side began to transform as well. His brow became more prominent while his chin lessened. His nostril opened a little wider and his left shoulder raised and became broader than his right. His left arm became muscular and one leg became longer than the other. After several moments passed, the screaming stopped. The transformation left a figure that was a patchwork of human features. The Andrew/Arthur figure standing before Reinhardt was entirely symmetrical. The left side was Arthur and the right side remained Andrew.

Andrew was the first to speak. "You see, when the brain sends a certain pulse, it expects a certain physical configuration. In order for the process to work completely, the body must configure itself correctly. The only fault in my experiments is that I have been unable to analyze both sides of the brain. Since each individual use one side or the other, you can see the complications. While I use my right side of the brain, Arthur uses his left. Therefore he now inhabits the left side my brain. Then again, I suppose it is convenient, otherwise I would not exist so long as he does. "

"Enough!" Arthur was speaking now. "We must deal with him as I dealt with the others.

Reinhardt could feel blood dripping from where the rope cut through his skin. It was making him feel slightly lightheaded. Nevertheless, he had managed to free his hands. All he needed now was an opportunity to strike. "So you killed your associates?"

"They betrayed us! It was justice! They got what they deserved."

"Revenge."

"Justice!"

"Revenge."

"Justice!" Andrew/Arthur was now screaming in both of its voices. Reinhardt could see now that Arthur's personality was over writing Andrews. In some ways they were becoming one entity. The creature yelled at Reinhardt. As it did it came closer. When it was face to face [to face], Reinhardt unleashed both of his fists, one for each face. Andrew/Arthur was undeterred. On the contrary, the creature became even angrier. Andrew/Arthur lunged at Reinhardt and punched him with its strong arm. The blow sent Reinhardt flying across the cellar and onto the top of one of the tables. Reinhardt felt shards of glass prick his back and a chemical burned his arm. Andrew/Arthur came towards Reinhardt once more at great speed despite its limp. At first he did not recognize it, but Andrew's arm had picked up Reinhardt's own sword, obviously taken form his own bag. Reinhardt recovered and leapt from the table in time to dodge a slash from his own blade. Andrew/Arthur continued to pursue him throughout the lab swinging his sword or throwing objects from his strong arm. In one of their encounters, a candle from the table where Claire lay unconscious fell to the ground. The floor, drowned in spilled alcohol, instantly became ablaze. From this point on Reinhardt focused on getting to Rosa and getting her out of the cellar. Reinhardt jumped over flames and picked Rosa up, chair and all making a run for the stairs leading back to the house. Behind him, Reinhardt could hear the growling of an angry Andrew/Arthur.

Upstairs, Reinhardt untied Rosa and tried to wake her up. After several moments she came around groggily. He slapped her lightly on the cheek to make her alert.

"Come on Rosa, get it together."

"What's happening?"

"No time to explain. I need you to go upstairs, find Michael and get as far away as possible from this house."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. I need to get Claire out of the fire in the cellar, now go!"

Rosa stood up and ran upstairs. Reinhardt watched her disappear into the rooms. When he turned he came to face a large fist head straight for him. The punch sent him to the ground. Andrew/Arthur stood with Claire swung over its shoulder.

"I'll murder you!" the creature placed Claire on the floor and dashed for Reinhardt. Reinhardt rolled along the floor and out of the way. Reinhardt quickly got on his feet and made a dash for the luggage cases, which were still by the entrance. He grabbed the heaviest one he found and rushed Andrew/Arthur with it. Over and over again, Reinhardt struck Andrew/Arthur with the case. Reinhardt was slowly but surely driving the creature back towards the cellar entrance. Before the creature realized what he was doing, Reinhardt the case hard against Andrew/Arthur's head. The creature stumbled backwards into the cellar but managed to reach out and grab Reinhardt by the collar. Together both tumbled into the raging inferno below. Separated by fire, Reinhardt gathered his senses and searched for the quickest way out. Andrew/Arthur still had not recovered from the fall. In scanning for the way out, Reinhardt saw his sword lying on the ground. He reached for it and began to search for the rest of his belongings. On top of one of the tables were all the things that he normally carried in his traveling bag, both leather and chain whip, throwing cross, standard knife, and one bottle of holy water. Reinhardt wrapped the leather whip around his waist like a belt, and hung both cross and knife from it. In one hand he held his chain whip and the other the bottle of holy water. Reinhardt painstakingly traversed the flames and made his way to the only exit. Unfortunately the fire had destroyed the staircase. Whit his chain whip in hand, Reinhardt swung it upwards until it grabbed hold of something. He then began to climb it. Suddenly Reinhardt was reminded that he was not alone. Andrew/Arthur leapt from the flames and grabbed Reinhardt as he had his hand just outside of the doorway leading out of the cellar. The creature growled and attempted to climb the chain itself. Reinhardt threw the bottle of holy water through the doorway to free one hand. With it, he grabbed the knife he had tucked between the leather whip and himself. Reinhardt threw the knife into middle of Andrew/Arthur's chest. Both faces were overcome with shock. Then Reinhardt felt the creature release the pressure on his leg. The convoluted figure fell to the ground. Reinhardt finished climbing out of the cellar and stared down into the uncontrollable blaze. Andrew/Arthur's body was on fire. Reinhardt could see the body bubbling as it melted away to reveal a mixture of human interiors. Claire at this point had awakened and was crying deliriously. Rosa had come down from upstairs with the children, Michael and William. She left their side for a moment and stood behind Reinhardt.

"Reinhardt, we can't put that fire out alone, and there is no one around for miles. We must leave the house." "No it's alright. I'm just making sure its dead."

Rosa stared at him. Moments passed and then Reinhardt turned and picked up the bottle of holy water. Reinhardt whispered something but Rosa could not hear exactly what it was. Not until he threw the bottle into the fire did she hear, "deliver us from evil, Lord. Amen."

The glass bottle struck the ground and broke into pieces. What followed was an amazing sight. The entire cellar became alight with what looked like another flame, a liquid flame that seemed to extinguish the other until finally the fire was gone. ___________

Dear Rosa,

It was customary for those of my lineage to keep journals. It was a way to teach those that come after us, about our lives and hopefully teach them a little about life. I never bothered to. Why do I write this now? I will never read it to you. The day you find this I might be long dead. Hopefully the meaning behind this letter will not have died with it. I love you. I suppose I have chosen to write about this now because of recent events. Yesterday we attended the funeral of Andrew Simonson, and the second for Arthur Simonson. I think of those two brothers and I can't help but think of my own brother and I. Arthur and Andrew were similar to Werner and I. I suppose in both cases we were our brother's keeper. I killed my brother. Andrew killed his.

In his own twisted way, Andrew tried to keep the memory of his brother alive. Have I done enough for my own brother I wonder? I hope that perhaps one day I might make him proud of me. I hope that in the days that come, I can remain strong for you and our family. These recent events have made me realize that I am not as young as I used to be. My decision to vacation in Paris was in reality so that I could think over the many things you have said to me recently. You've mentioned more than once your desire that I hang up the whip and sword. But I wonder will fate let me?

Will I be strong enough my love?

Time will tell. It always does. ____________

Fin