A/N Curiouser and curiouser ... we fall deeper into the rabbit hole. A darker side to Nikola.
FOUR
Helen turned the small vial over and over again in her hands, oblivious to the world around her. She was trying to remember when she had picked it up and taken it around with her. She couldn't remember ever taking a sample out of the lab … and she couldn't think of a good reason why she would ever do such a thing in the first place.
But there it was … as if Nikola had reached through her dream and placed it there himself.
She tucked the small vial away into her pocket, thinking to bring it back to the lab later. She had to check on the maturation process of the serum sometime this afternoon anyway.
Once she was down in the lab she forgot all about the small vial in her pocket. Henry had already started working, fastidiously taking notes on the progress of each sample. He had found the work to his liking and now assisted Helen without prompting. Each sample had been given different inhibitors and bonding agents to see which combination worked best, and all had different times they needed to set.
"Number three looks like it should be ready in an hour or so," Henry muttered as he craned his neck to inspect the small test tubes through the plastic window of the refrigerator.
They worked tirelessly side by side, and when sample three was ready Helen injected it into three different trays of bacteria cultures to see the effects different dosages had.
Five milligrams began to accelerate and promote cell rejuvenation. Ten milligrams placed everything into stasis. Fifteen milligrams seemed to have a delayed effect … while the previous two responses were almost instantaneous the curious third sample needed more time to reveal its secret.
Helen thought to herself a touch whimsically, first for waking, second to help sleep…
"God, this just goes on forever and ever…"
Helen started when Will suddenly waved his hand in front of her face. "Calling Doctor Magnus…"
"What was that, Will?"
He pointed at his computer screen in annoyance. "The clearance forms we need to have to transfer the steno. I was just saying they go on and on." He looked at her curiously. "Are you all right? Have you been getting enough sleep?"
"Yes, yes of course." She didn't even sound convincing to her own ears. Will pushed his chair forward so that he could sit in front of her, and insisted on examining her pupils.
"Have you been taking any sedatives?" He asked.
She shook her head, and he frowned, trying to puzzle out a solution. She sighed wearily, trying to wave him off. "Being disoriented and losing focus is all completely normal after head trauma. In a few weeks I'll be back to my usual self."
"I don't know … I've seen you bounce back sooner from a lot worse…" She saw the question about to form on his lips and gave him a stony look, daring him to finish the thought. Will hesitated and backpedalled slightly. "Just, you know … when you're ready."
"I know, Will, you're all ears." Helen regretted snapping at him the second the words flew from her mouth, but she couldn't take them back. The damage was already done. Will shrugged his shoulders and resolutely looked back to his work, but she could tell she had offended him deeply. Sighing quietly, she felt like banging her head on her desk.
The ghostly 'T' on her palm prickled.
The beam of Helen's lantern flickered in the gloom, and she had to strain her eyes to make out her surroundings. When the lantern's watery light fell upon the stone walls she saw beautiful, faded hieroglyphs etched onto their surfaces. She gasped in wonder, swirls of dust motes dancing in the air.
King Tut's tomb. She had gone on an expedition to find his resting place so many decades ago. Not a young woman, but in the infancy of her longevity.
She picked her way carefully through the ruins, instinctively remembering the way to the old pharaoh's chamber.
The sarcophagus lay in the center of a room, covered in dust and cobwebs, almost obscuring the brilliant gold that painted its surface. With a thrill of excitement, she made her way over, setting down her lantern, and brushing away the dust from the king's face.
She heard a creaking, rasping noise coming from within the sarcophagus and took a startled step back. The grating sound of nails scraping inside the tomb caused her heart to skip a beat.
The lid of the sarcophagus began to slide open in jerking movements. She heard a groan and a pale hand reach out over the side.
Nikola rose, his eyes black as midnight and his voice a deep, guttural growl. "Why, what a face to wake up to."
She took another step back, the sour taste of adrenaline in her mouth. His laugh was menacing and hungry as he hauled himself out of the sarcophagus. She could see the points of his teeth, the vampire fully taken over.
"I can smell your fear…" He whispered in silky tones, stepping out of the tomb and flexing his shoulders. She could hear his joints crack as they set back into place, and the menacing click of his talons as they shot out from his fingertips.
"Why are you afraid of me?" He asked with a hungry smile on his lips.
"I'm not afraid," She whispered, his cruel laughter ringing in her ears, disbelieving. He stepped closer to her and she backed away another step, wishing she had not set down her lantern.
"You have no reason to be afraid of me, Helen…"
"No," She said, fighting the tremor in her voice. "You would never hurt me."
"I didn't say that."
She blinked, and suddenly he had collided into her, slamming her against the wall of the tomb. Her breath hitched in her throat as she was confronted by the dead, black holes his eyes had become. She felt as if she were pinned by the gaze of a hawk. His eyes trailed along the line of her neck, his nostrils flaring slightly as he searched for the scent of her blood.
"You can't kill me so easily," He drawled, the tip of a talon skittering across her neck, tickling her skin. She found it hard to breathe, afraid to move lest she be pierced by the claw.
With a sudden movement he had swooped down to her neck and bit her with a crushing amount of force. She cried out, her windpipe squeezed under the pressure and unable to scream. She could feel the warmth of the blood streaming down from her neck and the greedy swirl of his tongue as he drank.
When she looked at herself in the mirror it was with shock to see two pricks where she had dreamt she was bitten. They were small, faint, and unlike the savage bite she had received, but it was a mark she still should not have had.
Her heart raced, and she quickly splashed cool water on her face before quickly leaving the bathroom.
When Will found her later it was to see her feverishly going over all the research and material she had compiled on sanguine vampirus and the original source blood experiment.
"Something new come up?"
Helen paused for a moment, afraid to voice her thoughts, but felt as if she needed someone to know her fears. "Will … how hard is it to kill a vampire?"
"Pretty hard…" He said reluctantly, unsure of where the conversation was going.
"How long did you examine his body for? How do you know he's really dead?"
Will looked at her a little sadly. "Magnus…"
"I'm serious, Will."
"Well, he wasn't breathing, he had no pulse, and his heart wasn't beating," Will snapped a little irritably. Helen knew she was losing credibility with him quickly, and pulled down the collar of her shirt.
"Look at these. What do they look like to you?"
Will leaned in so he could take a closer look, reaching out a finger to lightly feel the marks. "Pin pricks. Looks like you've been bitten by something."
"I had a dream, Will … I've been having these dreams, and in the last one I was bitten. Right here. And I wake up and find these."
He was taken aback, but then rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. When he spoke she could hear that he was trying to keep his incredulity at bay and be kind to her. "You were probably bitten by something while you were sleeping, felt it and your dream accounted for it somehow."
Helen sounded scared now, desperate for him to believe her. "But I had a dream a week ago where I was given a small vial of the venom sample I collected. And when I woke up it was in my hand. No explanation for how it could have gotten there."
"Magnus, you probably picked it up to work on it and forgot about it. This is all perfectly normal. We all experience missing time in our day. And you've been going through a lot of stress, recently."
"I did not do this to myself."
Will's face hardened slightly, and she looked away, ashamed of her outburst. She could tell he was growing impatient with her, and he imparted in a no-nonsense tone, "There is all a rational explanation for this. Dreams are funny things, and the subconscious mind has a way of picking up on things without our ever realizing it. Maybe you should try taking a sedative tonight, reset your sleep cycle."
She hung her head in her hands, suddenly feeling drained. "Perhaps you're right."
"Do we have to use Algernon?"
Helen pulled a face and then laughed. "Henry, you can't go naming all the mice. Soon you won't let me use any of them in experiments."
He poked a finger through the small cage, teasing the brown mouse with a white stripe on its face. "Unless it's an experiment to see how much cheese they can eat."
She shook her head at him, his moments of whimsy were too endearing. He brought the little mouse, or Algernon, from its cage and held it gently in his hands. Helen flicked the last air bubble from the hypodermic needle, and injected the mouse with the Shepherd's serum. Fifteen milligrams. Perhaps in a larger organic being the effects would be more pronounced.
Henry cooed at the mouse, promising it extra seed, and placed it back in its cage. It squeaked contentedly at him, seemingly unharmed by the injection, and ran for its water bottle.
Helen picked up the small glass jar of serum number three, and with a thought forming in the back of her mind, slipped it into her pocket.
Helen sat in her bed, unable to concentrate on the book she was reading. She felt again the phantom mouth around her neck, the sudden shock and crushing impact of being bitten, and a shiver worked through her body.
She looked to the wine glass on her bedside table and the small syringe beside it.
One sip for waking. Two to help you sleep.
She picked up the syringe and emptied its contents into her glass of wine. Ten milligrams. She sipped the wine, unable to taste any difference in flavour, and thought this was a rather seductive drink. If she hadn't mixed it herself, she would have never known the secrets it held.
Her eyelids felt heavy and her limbs were slowly being overtaken by a comforting lassitude. She sunk back into her pillow and gratefully embraced sleep.