A/N: Greetings everyone. My work has slowed down my postings. Thank you to all who are keeping up with this madness.
Chapter Nineteen: What Dark Arms
Therese
We sat in the station since early in the morning. We had brought some food with us for the wait. Today was the day Thomas was scheduled to leave for the first leg of his trip to England. Michael and I have sat chatting. Children have wandered by, staring at his glasses. He has been remarkably careful not to react to people. I believe he is not yet comfortable with them around him. He has sat with his eyes closed behind the glasses.
Glancing at the station clock, we watched the day slip away. Today was blessed with sun shine. It has crept down the wall, its golden glow turning to purple shadows.
"Guide me to the station door," Michael tells me. He has written something on a piece of paper while no one was looking.
We go to a crude message board that hangs along one wall. Messages are left here for travelers, and bills hang that give directions to the local Inns. I tack up the message he wrote for Thomas, and we go back to the Inn and get another room.
"Victor?" I ask.
He sits on the edge of the bed, a thumb brushing the scar across his face. I memorize his movements, for I know he is going to leave me.
"You stay here. Be at the station in case Thomas was just delayed. Take a train to the next place along the route that I told you. I'll go back for Thomas, and we'll catch up to you."
I know this must be done. I would slow Michael down, and Thomas may be in peril. "What if Thomas is just late? What if he arrives tomorrow?"
Michael
"There are many possibilities, and it may take me some time to unravel them. I'll check the Sanitarium first."
I am worried now. There might be a simple explanation for this. A snow blocked pass, or an accident with a wagon wheel. What I truly fear is Ragache or Victor preventing Thomas from coming. Ragache wants to control the assets Thomas has in England. Why would Victor hold him? There is only one reason, to lure me back.
I know I would be his target, but I deliberate on whether I should leave Therese alone. It is possible Thomas might tell them the route, of they may follow him. If I leave, Therese may be in danger from Victor.
With this in mind I tell her, "I'm going to slip out tonight. I can move faster now than I could walk about as the blind man during the day."
She leads me downstairs and we eat dinner. We sit and listen to a man play a fiddle for a time. As the crowd thins, we go back to our room.
I take her into my arms. "No matter what happens, I want you to keep going. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she replies softly. Her eyes shine with tears as I kiss her. Taking a quick look around the streets outside the small window in the room, I toss a pack out of the window. I turn one last time and kiss my wife. I hold her close, wanting my love for her to seep down into her bones, so that she will always know that I am a part of her as she is to me.
Lingering, I lay her hand over my heart, and rest my fingertips over hers. And then I let her go.
Leaping to the snow on the ground, I hover low, a dark shape in the shadow of the building. When no one appears, I start running for the edge of the village.
Thomas
It takes the diggers a number of hours to break the ground and hollow out a spot deep enough to bury Astrid.
Herr Dirnegg's face was bloodless as the Frau and I told him what transpired. He immediately had a carved stone prepared, giving Astrid his last name.
The village priest asked about details, we left it up to him to perform the basic ritual. The snow had stopped to be replaced by blowing gouts of sleet. We hovered in our coats, scarves wrapped around our heads to keep out the stinging cold as we stood at her graveside.
I am not a superstitious man, but as the priest intoned the blessing over her shroud, I felt as if a pair of warm hands rested on my shoulders, giving me a gentle squeeze. I felt myself blink and knew there was a tear in my eye. Astrid, if you can hear us, we wish you a peaceful sleep. You never have to suffer Victor again.
As we returned to the house, we talked. Her Dirnegg believed that Astrid looked at Elisabeth as a replacement for her Mother. Astrid's relations with her family must have been colored by her Father. It disgusts me to find that the man used his own daughter. It disgusts me even more that Victor saw fit to take advantage of that relationship.
I want nothing more than to retreat to my room with a bottle of wine. The deaths of Elisabeth and Astrid leave a cold emptiness inside me. Victor will not be finished yet.
Out near the barn lies Elisabeth; they buried the tarp under a layer of snow. We gave our testimonies as to the deaths of Astrid and the man in the stable to the local constable. The bodies were evidence. No one knows the man, but we paid for a grave for him.
We tried to console the children. We sent word to Victor's father, but he has not come or sent word back to us. We wait, listening to the voice of the wind as it moans in the night.
Victor
I stop at Ragache's house. The stupid ape was gone. His housekeeper warbles on about business elsewhere as she assesses my two horses and the rifle. I think the cow has told me a lie, and push past her into the house. "He won't mind me waiting for him." I toss my wet coat at her. "Bring me something to eat."
She looks at the coat as if she has never seen one before, but waddles away to the back of the house. I follow a moment later; I hear her banging pans, so she is following my instructions.
I take up a chair in Ragache's study. Sitting thumbing my cut cheek I remember Elisabeth's vehement denial of guilt. Why did she lie to me? I have only ever loved her, how could she betray me?
My world has been a fraying rope, a tenuous thread, and now the fiend has moved to shear it. He's taken away my wife, my brother, my family's happiness, even my reason.
It began the night that his heart resumed beating. With his first breath, he began to siphon off my energy, drain my ability to form thoughts, take away the comfort I sought from my loved ones. My dreams were filled with plundering bodies stacked in filthy pits, charnel houses where I gleaned bits of bone and sinew to study, my loft room where I cast aside my books and took up the scalpel. My macabre companions were parts of bodies that I vivisected by the light of candles in the deep of the night. I brought lime and chemicals to my room to cover the smell of decay that soaked into my skin, my hair, and the grey boards under my feet.
Were you attendant, grim reaper? Did I cheat you of your gruesome victories? Was the vampire, whose kiss condemned, jealous of my abilities? And dark wraith, did you mourn the dismal taste of death that I snatched from your ghostly hands? Did ghouls sit quivering in the church yards, howling as only the damned may howl, angry at my pilfering their sustenance?
What dark arms wrapped me in this embrace? What soft lips whispered in my ear while a skeletal finger pointed out my tasks. What nightmare sat at my elbow, urging me on while my strength failed me? They tainted my reason and distracted my thoughts until the hellish demon broke free of the kingdom of death to bring forth my ruin.
My reverie is broken by the tread of the housekeeper. She sets down a plate before me and a tankard. I detest the strong beer that Ragache swills, but drain the brew and eat the food. I call for more of the beer, and the housekeeper protests. Evidently Ragache is not a generous host. Heedless of her bleating, I roar at her for more. She scurries away and returns with a filled tankard.
I consider her as she leaves. With dark wiry hair, thick ankles, and work worn hands, she is probably Ragache's bed sport. He's had little luck with invitations to finer houses since his escapades with Astrid and Therese. The peasants of the village are all he is likely to attract with his paltry purse.
Elisabeth, my stolen bride, the light of my life that was extinguished to soon. Would that I could climb the stairs and find you waiting sleepily for me in the bed.
Instead I drain the tankard and climb the stairs. Pushing open a door, I lay down on a bed and sleep.
Therese
The morning comes quickly, and I hasten to be gone from the Inn before the patrons realize Michael is not with me.
Arriving at the station, I purchase a ticket from Fierney Volatire to Moulins. I will have four days after I arrive there before I have to press on. I have carefully hidden my money in two separate places about my person. I fear if I miss Thomas, how I could find my way back or whether I should even try.
This is all so confusing to me. Sitting alone, I have nothing to occupy my mind except the anxiety of Michael's return to Switzerland, and the empty hours of waiting for his return with Thomas.
I stare out the window on the train, keeping to myself. Arriving in the evening at Moulins, I find a modest Inn and rent a room. I hide my belongings, and prop a chair before my door. Lying on top of the bed, I pull the covers over me and pray my husband and my friend are all right.
Thomas
The staff of the sanitarium is anxious, fearful of Victor's return. The constable has sent two guards to watch over the building. I circulate through the dinning room and conservatory, trying to be cheerful for people. I'm afraid I fail miserably.
With every passing hour, the tension threatens to explode. People are becoming short tempered. The patients are angry and the staff is hard pressed to appear at ease. Arguments in the kitchen and wash hut have cause two people to disappear.
They all fear Victor.
When he returned with Elisabeth's corpse, the people were in shock. But after the murder of Astrid and the man in the stable, it became clear to everyone that Victor had gone mad.
Meeting with the Frau and Herr Dirnegg, they express another concern. They feel I may become Victor's target next. If he suspects I have aided Therese and Michael, then he will come to believe that I know where they are. I have though of that as well.
The Frau secured a firearm from the village. I keep it tucked under the robe across my knees. Although I do not feel at ease, I know what must be done. If I am the bait for Therese or Michael for Victor, then so be it. He cannot afford my death unless he is sure that he knows where they are. If I can buy them some more time to distance themselves, then so be it.
Victor has ever been the puppeteer, and we his puppets, dangling from strings.
Michael
I arrive tired, and so I hide in the forest. There are new guards on the property now. I watch for some time before dawn, and find Thomas' window.
Gaining entrance, I go to his bedside. Covering his mouth, I give him a shake.
"Thomas. It is Michael," I whisper to him.
He sits up in the bed. "Where is Therese?"
"Still in France. She is going on with the schedule. Why are you still here?"
"Victor returned. With him in a wagon was Elisabeth's body."
"What?"
"We think they may have fought. Her neck was broken and his face has a cut. It happened their first night at the Chalet."
I am sickened by this. Elisabeth had always been good to Victor. Perhaps too good, and now she has paid for it. "Where is he?"
"We don't know. There was a man in the stable, a hired assassin. Astrid saw the body and hid. She killed the man and Victor shot her to death. We buried her two days ago. Victor hasn't been seen since."
I stand up. "And Elisabeth?"
Thomas points out of his window in the direction of the stable. "Her body is still there, under the snow. We were hoping Victor's Father would come."
"There won't be time," I tell him. "Victor will return for her."
I can hear him hold his breath. "Jesus! You don't thinkā¦"
"I don't think-I'm not mad. But Victor is. I would not doubt his twisted belief that he could bring her back from the dead." I go to the window. "I'll be in the forest, but I will watch over her. If Victor does not return by tomorrow night, we will leave, agreed?"
"Yes."
I climb out of the window and cross the grass, slipping once more into the shadows I have lived my life among.
