Author's note: Unbelievable! People are actually reading this. I even got a few reviews! Wow… you're all crazy. But I'm crazier. And on that note…

Chapter 8: Madness

Three days passed before D felt strong enough to visit Tasia's house. He knocked on the door, and immediately old Mrs. Belus opened it, her eyes wet with tears. "God bless you, D. I had a feeling that you were on your way." D noticed the garlic and wild roses hanging around the door. Wreaths of garlic and roses hung also around the windows, three of which were broken.

Samantha and Geoffrey were waiting behind their grandmother. "Have you found Momma?" Geoffrey blurted out.

D shook his head. "I'm sorry," D said, looking down into the boy's eyes.

"Children, leave me alone to talk with Mr. D for a moment, please," Mrs. Belus said wearily, and reluctantly, Samantha took her brother by the arm and headed up the stairs. The old woman turned towards the dhampir imploringly. "I know she's dead, I saw it in a dream."

"It was my fault," D said immediately.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Belus said. "If it had anything to do with you, then it was really I who doomed my daughter on the first day I let you set foot in our house. But it's no use to regret the past. We must think of the future. For the children."

"The children," D repeated.

"Their father's mind is lost," Mrs. Belus said bluntly. She took D's hand and held it tightly. "Two days ago a black carriage arrived. The driver wore a heavy hooded cloak. He handed a parcel and a letter to Richard, who were sick with worry over Tasia." She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a handsome leather envelope. "Here's the letter. Read it."

D took the envelope and immediately recognized the handwriting.

To Her Husband:

I offer my deepest condolences on the loss of your beautiful bride. She was at peace in the end and drifted into her death as if floating into a dream. Her death was a necessary part of history, marking the beginning of this world's return to natural order.

You will grieve for her, but in your grief be comforted by the knowledge that I have sworn to protect you, your daughter, your son, and your mother-in-law, and that none of you will ever suffer the same fate as your beloved wife. It was her last request that I protect her loved ones, and I will honor it.

On to practical matters: I have already buried Tasia's body, and commissioned a marble monument for her, which will be delivered in the spring of next year, at which time you and your family will be welcome to visit her gravesite.

I am also sending, in addition to this letter, a memento of Tasia's exquisite beauty. It is my earnest desire that you should always be able to remember her fondly, and thereby find respite from your sorrow.

Sincerely,

The King of the Vampires

It was all D could do to stop himself from ripping the paper apart. His hands trembled with fury at the audacity of his father, the obscene cordiality of the letter. How dare he? Natural order… her last request… welcome to visit… a memento? What was the memento?

"In the parcel was a portrait of Tasia, the most life-like picture ever to be seen, only, in the picture, she's asleep as though dead. It looks so real, if you stare at it, it seems she'll open up her eyes at any minute, though you start to hope she doesn't. It's beautiful but unnatural- it's so hard to explain!"

"I understand," D said gravely.

"But that wasn't all. When Richard unwrapped the portrait, a smaller bundle fell to the ground. It was a piece of red silk the size of a handkerchief, folded somehow to look like a rose. When Richard picked it up and undid the rose, inside there was a lock of Tasia's hair!" Mrs. Belus fought back her tears. "A perfect golden lock, tied with a red ribbon!" She sobbed into her apron for a moment, sitting down weakly on a kitchen chair. D was at a loss for how to comfort her. His own rage burned, filling his thoughts with violence and revenge. Suddenly Mrs. Belus quelled her emotions. "Richard sat all night staring at the portrait, the little bundle of red silk clutched in his hand. The next day he disappeared. When he finally came back he was covered in dirt and he was in a drunken rage. He said he would kill us. I locked the children in my room and tried to calm him down. He- he burned the portrait, and the Bible, and he smashed the windows with a shovel. He said he'd been trying to dig her up- he'd gone mad!"

"Where is he now?" D asked.

"In the jailhouse! Yesterday he went and bought a rifle, ran out into the street and killed three men! They say he's still ranting about vampires. They think he might have damaged his brain with liquor- but that won't save him from hanging! Oh, D, what can we do?"

Richard Rowntree sat on the floor of his small cell, crying unabashedly. Suddenly in the darkness on the other side of the bars, a tall shadowy figure appeared. It had entered noiselessly, like a spirit. "Are you Death?" Richard asked loudly, noticing his visitor.

"No. It's D." D stepped closer, and Richard stared up at him with watery, delirious eyes.

"D for Death, Death starts with D," Richard said in a foolish, sing-song voice. "Why have you come here?"

"Tasia," D said, and Richard froze.

"Where is she, D? Where's Tasia? What do you know- do you have her? Did you take her? WAS IT YOU?" He spoke so fast he stumbled over his words, and he tried to get to his feet but fell back down to his knees with an enraged scream. D winced.

"No. But I know what happened to her."

"Happened to her," Richard repeated, and then laughed insanely. "What happened to her! Happened, happened, nothing happened, there's no such thing as vampires. Death to all vampires!"

"So you remember what the letter said."

"The letter from the 'king' of the 'vampires'." He spit angrily. "King of murderers! King of rapists! King of Hell! Kill all the vampires, I say- Kill them all!" His broken voice dissolved into ragged moans. "I see it in my dreams… the lot of them, murdering gypsies all in jewels, having a regular party over her… her… body!"

D felt chilled. It was a fairly accurate description of what had happened. He shook off his memories of that dreadful night and focused on Richard. It seemed the man was somewhat coherent after all, which was good. He figured he had better get down to business. "They're going to hang you tomorrow morning," D said quietly.

"Right you are; and a good thing too. Crime these days! Someone should do something! Harsher punishments; set an example! Kill all the bloody rotten vampires!" Richard nodded his head wildly up and down.

"What about your children?" D asked.

"I have no children."

"Tasia's children."

Richard hung his head and was quiet. His hands curled into fists. "I never want to see them again," he whispered harshly. D felt himself growing angry.

"You would abandon them?"

Richard suddenly seemed overcome by weariness. His eyes seemed to be looking at something far in the distance. He sighed. "Take them away from here," he muttered softly. "Take them to England. In the top drawer of my dresser you'll find the necessary papers. Charles Durthing manages my accounts in York. There's enough money to buy a comfortable house I should think."

D nodded gravely. Richard hadn't lost his mind completely after all. But why didn't he want to live on to care for his children? Didn't he want to see them grow up?

"Richard," D asked after a long moment. "Why did you kill those people?"

"Because… I… wanted to," came the ragged reply, "..to kill the vampires."

"Those people were innocent."

"So was Tasia."

"It was wrong."

Richard's face was livid. He shook and spittle flew from his clenched teeth. "How is it wrong? How is it wrong to hate the world that stole her from me? Vampires! How can it be wrong to hate cruelty, filth and corruption? Kill all vampires. No- it is wrong not to hate them for what they've done. How could God allow the world to be as it is? How could God let her die?" he looked up at D pleadingly.

"I don't know," D said softly.

"I can't tolerate it any longer. That's why I bought that weapon. I had to do something about it. I had to kill them. I had to change the way the world was or else die trying."

"That's madness," D said.

"Yes, it is. It's the madness of what it means to be alive; the madness of being human." Breathing heavily, Richard looked up at D. "What will you do?" he asked.

"About what?"

"What will you do to change the world? What madness will you undertake?" Richard stared at D with eyes that suddenly seemed to possess immeasurable wisdom. D felt the challenge rising up before him like a terrible wave. He balked. He couldn't answer the challenge.

"I don't know," he admitted at last.

Richard made an odd squealing noise. "Vampires," he chuckled at last. "Vampires!" He laughed, but tears poured from his eyes. He covered his face with his hands, sobbing now. "Tasia…" D turned and quickly slipped away, greatly discomfited.

They took the train the next morning, Richard's documents safely tucked inside D's new coat. He had purchased a new set of traveling clothes and looked completely normal, except perhaps for his wide-brimmed hat. To D's relief, he didn't need to wear the hat inside the train. He set it on the seat next to him and Geoffrey picked it up and put it on his head, and set off to explore the car. Samantha climbed up onto D's lap.

"Why are we going to England?" She asked timidly, as if expecting to be scolded for asking.

"Because it's what your father wanted," D replied truthfully.

"Is he dead like Momma?"

The frankness of her question surprised D. He looked into her warm brown eyes, and wrapped his arms around her. "Yes, he is."

She was quiet for a moment. "When will we tell Geoffrey?" She whispered.

"When we need to, I suppose," D answered. Samantha took a deep, fluttery breath, and then remained still for a long time, her cheek pressed against the fabric of the new traveling coat, a mere layer of fabric away from the papers that guaranteed her future in England. D listened to the rhythmic noisy clanking of the train as it hurried through the countryside. After a while he heard another sound, and it nearly broke his heart as he realized that the little girl in his arms was crying, crying very quietly and very bravely, muffling her sobs against his chest. Mile after mile flew by. Finally she looked up at D, fiercely wiping her bleary eyes.

"I hope we never tell him, never," she said, and buried her face once more in D's coat, sobbing harder than before.

A/N: Man, that was a tough chapter. But the next chapter is another of my favorites. It actually got out of control and became its own 12-page story, but then I decided I had to cut it down and keep this a Vampire Hunter D story, NOT a World War One story. Anyway, all the historical facts coming up in chapt 9 are correct.