Now that the part of the story taking on the whole six parts is out of the way, here comes post events. Barbara is haunted by the memories, and late at exactly midnight she gets an "unexpected visitor". This chapter is now taking a turn thanks to "The Evil Clergyman", a half-hour short starring the fabulous Jeffrey Combs and Barbara Crampton (Herbert West and Megan Halsey). :D

Chapter Twelve

Date at Midnight

Present Day

I never told the police the truth because they never would have believed me. I don't remember what happened to me that night my husband was carried away into the tomb, but that my world went dark around me, and I awoke sometime later, finding that he was still gone - the work gone, too - and that the tomb masonry was back in place as though it had never been touched in the first place.

It was our daytime maid who found me unconscious in the morning. Christina was Hispanic and in her early thirties, treated like family by me rather than a servant; Herbert had given her the night off before so it was just the two of us...but now it was just me. She'd unlocked the basement door and came down to find me out as though someone had done the deed. The shotgun was gone, so I assumed the zombies took it with them. When Christina tried asking me what happened, I told her that I did not remember much, even asked her where my husband was.

My question had baffled her, alright. The police came to the house, asked me questions, but what could I really tell them? They'd never be able to connect the Sefton tragedy with Herbert West, and they certainly would NEVER know about the tomb masonry. They would only laugh it off, call me insane. No DNA or fingerprints were found anywhere except on the empty cupboard doors, and they were mine and Herbert's, but nothing to tie to his disappearance. They pointed no fingers to me, either. But that did not make me feel any safer.

Herbert West was gone. Taken away by his own experiments. For all I knew from then on, he was dead. How could they keep him alive that long for what he did to them? You don't just go around creating monsters and not expect them to fight back.

Now I sat on the very same loveseat in the very same study room, before the fireplace which was now devoid of life. This was where we spent our last moments of solace before they came for him. I felt my cheeks burn with the tears that had begun to stream. I'd made the decision to sell this house and let Christina continue to take care of it for her next owners, but the house was never bought again, according to Mrs. Jensen, no matter her efforts. Now I had it in me to come back here; I'd lived in Arkham for the last year, choosing to return there, and that was when I was offered to teach classes, which brought me Dawn who made my days brighter.

But none of it erased the memory of what happened a year ago on this very day, which I purposefully avoided celebrating like Herbert and I did that night, which was supposed to be the happiest night of our lives as the day we were married.

"I wish they took me with him," I croaked, leaning away from Dawn who sat down beside me. "I was with him the whole time; we were best friends and partners, then we vowed to be together and conquer death together...but then they came for him. They came and left me alive." My throat was sore from crying. "I deserved it all, for helping with tampering with Mother Nature."

"You made a mistake, yes, but you were trying to keep him in line, too," Dawn assured me. "I know I wasn't there, but it was sick. But he didn't deserve that, and you didn't deserve to suffer like this." I was so grateful that I had a support system now that Herbert wasn't here with me anymore. I leaned into her and sniffled, crying with her for awhile until she left just before the sun went down.

~o~

It had been nice to have Dawn over, but when she left, I felt alone once more. When was I ever going to be happy again? It was a long process, a long road to recovery...recovery, something I never got. I never got any peace of my mind because I was slowly eaten alive day by day. My therapist had tried telling me reliving the past over and over wasn't healthy; I took antidepressants to keep myself stable, but it would always return.

I went to bed early that night, just with nothing better to do. For the first few hours I tossed and turned, afraid to go to sleep. I did not sleep much anymore despite little to no bad dreams - when I did have them, I remembered the look in Herbert's eyes when he confessed his love for me and said my name one last time. I did the same, and when I did, it felt more real than ever. Years of suffering, of hard work, had brought us to the end it did. I had given up the experiments he did when I knew nobody would ever be able to conquer death. What we did hadn't done the trick.

Death was what made life worth living; our world was always limited, so where would the extras be placed if there was little for them? When people always asked for anything and craved it so bad? The world was large, but that didn't mean it was limitless. I came to that conclusion after Herbert was gone.

I had made sure everything was locked; it was a good thing the security system was the same as ever. Mrs. Jensen had the gall to question me about it regarding my husband. But there was one door I'd forgotten to check, and that was the one in the bedroom I was now in: the master bedroom, which I once shared with Herbert, where we made up for lost times.

The master bedroom held both Old World and exotic tones, giving us a transport to paradise and escaping to be with each other. Nestled beneath soft chenille and cotton, I drew the covers up and tried desperately to sleep this first night. I found myself facing the door to my left - the door which led out to a balcony which offered a view of the back of the estate. Nature's beauty - a beauty which my late husband and I tried to destroy. Who knew where Eric and his zombie followers were now.

I had not heard anything related to unseen monsters killing and leaving a gory mess or anything of the sorts in the last year. But that didn't shake the knowing fear from my system.

Staring at the door, moonlight streaming through the glass, I could hear and feel my heart pounding against my chest, my ribs hurting with the pressure. I couldn't help but get the horrible feeling that someone - or something was watching me through the window...

I screamed when I saw something suddenly rise in front of me. Quickly, I rolled over and away to the other side of the bed, accidentally falling out without getting up. Hitting the floor was numbing, but I scrambled away for the door, trying to get away from the unexpected and unwelcomed visitor whom I had no idea got in here, or HOW, without triggering any alarms. All I knew was that I had to get away and fast.

But I never made it in time to the door, still crawling on all fours. The "visitor" stopped in front of the door. I paused in terror, pausing to stare at a pair of bare feet attached to ankles with horrendous stitching, like Frankenstein. Continuing, the legs were normal until getting to being attached to their places beneath the lower body, where I also glimpsed the most private section, giving away that the visitor was a man; however, while the genitals were unmarred as they should be, pubic hair was absent. The waist and lower abdomen were also sutured together, and from the middle section of the abdomen was a long jagged line going over the navel as making it nonexistent, between the valley in the middle of his soft pectoral muscles, stopping at the stitching of his neck to between his shoulders.

The face was untouched, the blue eyes behind a pair of spectacles bearing down at her dully but still intelligent. The face of Herbert West smiling down at me in the most sinister way I'd seen him look at the subjects.

Shrieking, I bolted up, but when I did, I found I was in my own bed. The Frankenstein form of my lost spouse was nowhere in sight. It had all been a dream. But I was sweating cold with fright. Sometimes I wished I could take something to keep me from dreaming, but as a doctor, no dreams meant your brain dies.

And then I found myself looking back to the door to my side. I knew I wasn't dreaming when I saw the dark silhouette of a human standing outside. Or was it really a living human? Perhaps it was one of the things of the past choosing this hour of the night, which was a quarter to midnight and nearing the end of the day. Perfect timing, I thought sarcastically. Unlike my dream, I reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled out my loaded pistol, taking off the safety and ready to shoot the target, as I heard the lock click and the doorknob turn.

The door was slowly pushed open, and when it did, a hand came around to rest on the doorframe. I faintly but clearly saw the shine of a wedding ring. I believe I heard myself gasp but kept my weapon aimed. Could it be...?

"Barbara..."

No, it couldn't be him! He was TAKEN away in front of my eyes; I hadn't seen or heard from him in a year, and by now he was believed to be dead. I watched with shaky breaths as the person stepped in slowly and gracefully. The moonlight was still shining, and as its beams bore down on the body, I saw no hideous Frankenstein stitchery - just a normal body but unclothed as I remembered. The glasses reflected the light, so I couldn't see the eyes well, but the face... "Herbert!" I dropped the gun back into the drawer after putting the safety on, leaping out of bed and throwing myself at my newly found husband whom I had thought was dead.

But the moment my arms wrapped around him, he was cold as ice, nearly hard as marble. "Oh, my God, Herbert, what's happened to you?" I pulled back to put my hand on his chest, feeling a heartbeat still, but why was he so cold? I looked into his eyes, no longer seeing the driven passion and intensity in his blue eyes; instead, I saw broken sadness. I felt my heart break from both the sight and the fact that he finally came back to me.

"Barbara." He sounded like saying my name was new and strange to him, like we were strangers instead of separated husband and wife. "I've missed you."

"I saw them take you away," I blurted out. "I thought you were dead; everyone did. I didn't know where to look. What did HE do to you?"

Herbert sighed and shook his head. "My love, I have so much to tell you, but tonight I want to just be with you. I have so many regrets that I want to put aside the truth and just spend the last of my damaged anniversary with my wife. I've waited so long to see you again, Barbara," he whispered, reaching up to take my face in both hands. I believe I was crying again because both his thumbs wiped them away, and he leaned forward and kissed me. His lips were still so soft, so warm unlike the rest of his body. I wanted more of him, passion overtaking reason.

I moaned when he gently parted from me. "Oh, Herbert." I ran my hands up his marble chest and briefly played with his nipples, hard as pebbles. He moaned at the sensations he was still able to have. If he was dead, would he not have a heartbeat? Or perhaps it was the cold night air and the fact he'd escaped from Clapham-Lee, wherever he was now, and walked the whole way with no clothes on. Then I brought my hands lower down over his firm stomach and found the rough curls above his hard member. I drew back and removed my red satin slip and climbed back into bed.

He followed and climbed in with me, under the covers, slipping between my legs, the tip of his manhood pressing against my wet slit. He shivered gently at the feel of my nest against him again. I don't remember him being this desperate; what did Eric do to him to make him so soft? "Herbert?" I hadn't been with anyone since he vanished, and I had no idea how to describe the pleasure I was feeling now that my husband and I were once again as one. I whimpered when he slowly sheathed into me, taking away my speech patterns.

"Sssh, no more discussion," he breathed, leaning down and kissing me again. His hand reached up to cup my cheek, my hands going up into his hair and massaging his skull. He murmured something wordless before speaking with them. "I spent the last year among the dead, my love, and I want to spend the rest of our anniversary night alive again. My body needs yours more than ever." I acquiesced and surrendered my body's desires to mate with his then, his hips meeting mine and washing over with the speed of tidal waves, the waters of bliss more powerful than our last night together.

Awww, it was so sweet. Poor Herbert is so broken by whatever Clapham-Lee did to him, which will be revealed in the next chapter. Stay tuned!