Chapter 14 – December Sickness Part 1
~~~~ December 18 1880~~~~
Helen sat frustrated, taking notes. It had been a week since she and the others had injected the serum, and some results had been instantaneous, like Nigel's, upon injection he flashed in and out of invisibility. It had been a marvelous sight. James had found out in almost an hour that the source blood had opened his mind, John was doubtful that it had anything to do with the source blood, but he proved it by reading a book on advanced biology in less than 5 minutes.
John himself took more than a few days to realize his power, but when they were hunting down a creature he nearly teleported himself into the Thames.
But it was almost a week and she felt as normal as ever, it was like nothing had changed at all, and she was frustrated about that. She refused to believe she was immune to such miraculous things, there had to be a reason.
James assured her that her gift would come to light in the most unexpected way, in that way the source blood was elegant.
She sighed.
At least she wasn't the only one; Nikola himself hadn't shown much progress physiologically. In that way she had some comfort.
Though she had seen less and less of him in the past few days.
She stood up from her desk and began wandering around the house. James was in the lab doing research on an oil secreted by one of the abnormals through a gland in it's paw, he talked on end about the oil's healing effect, and how he didn't want to be disturbed during his experiments.
John and Nigel were off somewhere, most likely showing off their newly acquired gifts, or monster hunting.
Nikola was most likely in his room, drinking wine and reading poetry, he hadn't been seen in the lab since the injection.
Helen made her way to Nikola's room and knocked on the door gently.
When she received no answer she opened the door and went in herself.
Nikola's room was in shambles; a complete disaster compared to his normally impeccably tidy, borderline compulsive, upkeep.
Something was wrong.
"Nikola," she said cautiously, her eyes searching for him.
She heard a rustling coming from the bathroom and she made her way to it slowly, her breath threatening to lodge permanently in her throat.
The hair at the back of her neck stood on end as her hand reached out and turned the handle.
Nikola was a wreck, he was panting, his skin was ghostly pale, and his eyes screamed with panic and confusion.
"Nikola, what's wrong?" she gasped alerting him to her presence.
"Nothing! It's nothing!" he muttered, and he ran a hand through his slick dark hair messing it up effectively.
"You look feverish, are you feeling well?" she stepped closer to him, a hand reaching out to touch his skin; it was icy cold.
"I'm fine," he barked moving away from her. He held a small traveling bag in one hand and he frantically dropped his affects into it, as if he was trying to make a quick getaway.
"Are you going somewhere," she looked at the bag with confusion.
"Can't stay here…for now…it's hard to explain, Helen, just, just trust me, I'll be back, but I have to leave," he pushed past her to the armoir and he shoved his clothes into the bag, not bothering to fold them.
"Have you done something?" she asked, eyeing him. There were only so many things that could get him worked up like this.
"No, it's nothing!" he barked, he wiped his head with the back of his hand.
"You're sick, you shouldn't leave, lets go down to the lab, James can run some tests, we can figure out what's wrong," she reached for his arm but he moved away.
"No, can't do that! I just have to leave, please let me go," he pleaded with her as she blocked the doorway.
"Not until you tell me why," she ordered and he groaned.
"I can't, I just…can't stay here…right now," he winced and took in a deep ragged breath.
"Is it me, Nikola?" she asked.
"Of course not, it's not any of you, it's me, I just have to leave, and I can't tell you why," he scrubbed a hand over his face again and Helen took this opportunity to come up to him. Her hands cupped his face, forcing him to look at her; he didn't resist her.
"Please, stay," she begged him with her eyes, her father had already left her for his own reasons, she couldn't let Nikola do the same.
"I can't, I need to go…please, let me go, Helen," he whimpered and Helen's hands dropped.
"Stay, I can't bare you to leave right now, I need you," she took his hand; it was cold and clammy.
"Stop trying to guilt me, I am not your father, NOW LET ME GO!" he yanked his hand out of hers and pushed past her, leaving her speechless in his wake.
Helen heard his footsteps grow fainter, and she suddenly bolted after him, but by the time she reached the stairs the front doors had slammed behind him and the carriage had taken him away.
She fell to the ground, her dress billowing about her.
"What was that all about?" came James voice behind her.
He had heard nothing but the door slamming and Helen running to catch it.
"Nikola…he-he left…" she said, breathlessly.
"What the devil for?" he came up behind her and looked out the window, hearing the carriage turn a corner.
"I don't know, he wouldn't say, he just left," Helen bit her lip; she wasn't going to cry for that arrogant asshole.
"Is he coming back?" asked James.
"I don't know," she muttered and James knelt beside her.
"Are you okay?" he said gently putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I don't know," she looked at him and wrapped her arms around him, letting herself shed a tear or two into the safety of his arms.
"Oh Helen, I'm sure he'll be back, he can't stay away from you for too long, you're his closest friend, he'll be back, with that sad puppy face of his, flowers in hand, this isn't the first time he's ran out of the house and disappeared," he said light-heartedly and Helen sighed.
"You didn't see him, James, you didn't see how frightened he looked," she let go of him and stood up.
"Show me his room," said James.
"What?" she looked at him incredulously.
"Just show me his room, if something is wrong I will know," she nodded and showed him to Nikola's torn apart room.
He looked around inquisitively, his hand on his chin, as he paced around the room.
"He left in a hurry did he?" he asked out of the blue.
"Yes, like he was being chased," she said.
"And he was sweating?" he asked, kneeling down and running his hand along the floor.
"Yes he seemed quite feverish and pale, very out of sorts," she answered and he made a sound in response.
"Did he mention where he was going to?" James looked at her.
"No, he just said he was leaving and he couldn't tell me why," James stood up and went over to her.
"Helen, this might be a premature guess, but are we absolutely sure our good friend hasn't…lost it," James said gently.
"What are you saying?" Helen glared at him.
"Mental illness isn't uncommon, especially with such a brilliant mind as his, he could've been afraid that he was slipping and left before we found out because he was afraid of being sent to the asylum," James stated calmly and Helen slapped him across the face.
"How dare you? Wipe that thought out of your mind! He was perfectly fine till we injected that serum into him, he-" Helen stopped herself. She had just answered the conundrum for both of them. "It's the source blood, it has to be! It's doing something to him, it's making him sick and confused, we have to find him!"
James nodded.
"Yes but we don't know where he is, or anything like that Helen, and he's probably too far for us to catch him, even with John's help, which I wouldn't take any way because he is far from controlling it properly," James said.
"We have to try!" Helen fumed but James just took her hands and looked into her eyes.
"There's nothing we can do, not without a miracle," said James calmly and Helen yanked her hands out of his and stormed off, feeling helpless and hopeless.
She had to find him…she had to help him…
~~~~December 24 1880~~~~
Helen stared out of the window as the rain fell, there was nothing more miserable than a rainy day in the middle of winter, and it did nothing to her mood.
This Christmas Eve felt emptier than it had been in the last decade. It just wasn't the same without Nikola, but they still hadn't heard any trace of his whereabouts since he had disappeared almost a week ago. Everyday she sank deeper and deeper into despair.
What if he was terribly sick, or lost? What if he was lying dead in a city morgue somewhere, or floating in the Thames? What if he hurt someone, or himself?
All these what-ifs sent her heart racing.
"Helen, relax, you'll worry yourself into a knot," said John coming behind her with a glass of brandy. They'd been sure not to drink wine around her in the last few days; it would only upset her.
"I can't relax, not till I know that he is safe and well," she muttered taking the glass of brandy.
"He's probably fine, Helen, probably drinking it away at some Pub," joked John.
"That's not funny, John, he could be lying in a ditch somewhere, or dying in a clinic surrounded by strangers wondering why we haven't come for him, or whether if we will," she turned from the window and went to stand in front of the fire place. "I hate to think of how lonely he must feel, and confused."
"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to cheer you up, it's Christmas, can you blame me for wanting to see you smile, at least once, you haven't smiled all week," John stroked her cheek gently and she sighed.
"I'm sorry, it's not your fault, I am very grateful to all of you, I'm just worried that's all, it doesn't feel like Christmas without my whole family here," she smiled weakly and took a sip of the brandy.
"I understand, my dear," John went over to the gramophone and put on a record. "Please, dance with me."
He offered her his hand and she sighed.
"No, John, I'm not in the mood," she shook her head but John was persistent.
"Come on, it's just one dance, it might perk up your spirits a bit, take your mind off things," he took her hand and pulled her slowly to him and she sighed.
"I doubt that's possible," she put the brandy glass down as John pulled her into a slow waltz. "Just one dance."
"That's all I ask," he smiled slightly as he led her across the floor smoothly and gently.
Helen felt her tense muscles ease a bit into John's strong embrace as he swayed her to the music, and for a moment she felt lighter than she had all week, she felt a small laugh escape her lips as he dipped her and she rested her head against his shoulder with a small smile.
But her mind drifted to another dance, years ago, the first New Years Eve she had spent with her beloved Serbian friend. She had never felt so lighter than air than when she was dancing with her best friend with blanket of stars overhead, like that evening of her birthday which felt like an eternity ago.
Helen stopped dancing.
"That's enough," she said pulling away from John.
"But Helen, the song's not nearly over," he held her hand still but she shook he head.
"That's enough, John, I'm done," she took her a hand out of his and smoothed down her skirts as James burst into the room.
"Helen, come quick!" he said, breathing hard to catch his breath.
"What's happened?" she asked.
"It's a call! From some woman, it's about Nikola!" he said grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room with him. "A woman called, the landlady of that Inn Nikola occupies down in Oxford."
"Nikola's in Oxford!" she gasped and looked at John who was following behind her.
"Yes! And from what I heard he's not in good shape, he's been locked in his room since he arrived four days ago, the landlady is in a panic, she didn't know who else to call but a Miss Helen Magnus."
"I can teleport us there quickly," said John.
"Are you sure? You haven't practiced with anyone but yourself," said Helen, but John just nodded.
"I'll teleport us to the park, that wide open field, we should be fine," he said.
"I'll grab Nigel," said James.
"I'll meet you there, John, take me now!" he nodded and grabbed her hand.
~~~~Oxford~~~~
Helen walked up the cobbled street to the small Inn with a quick pace.
The rain whipped at her face as she came up to the old oak door and knocked on it.
An old lady answered the door frantically.
"Ah, Ms. Magnus, I didn't know who to call, you are the only one I know of that he spends any amount of time with, and he's starting to scare my other patrons!"
The old Scottish woman closed and locked the door behind her.
"He arrived nearly four days ago looking like death itself, demanding his old room, only till last night he's been making the most frightful noises I've ever heard, I fear he is ill but he refuses anyone's entrance!"
Helen nodded and walked up the old staircase to the second floor.
Some patrons had peaked out of their rooms to see what was all the commotion about, Helen told them to return to their rooms.
She got to the last room at the end of the hall and heard the pained cries from the other side of the door; it sounded like he was being attacked by a vicious beast in there.
"Nikola? It's Helen, let me in," she said gently.
"Helen? No! Go away!" Nikola's voice sounded strained and fearful.
"Nikola! What is going on in there?" she demanded.
"Nothing! Just go away!" she heard a crash of something and shook her head and barged in.
"Niko-…" she trailed off at the sight, the room had been torn apart, the curtains were in shreds, clothes thrown everywhere, bits of broken wine bottles and wine glasses everywhere, paper thrown or shredded, and in the middle of it all was Nikola.
Not an inch of cloth on him, every muscle seemed to shake and shiver like there was liquid ice being poured into his veins, and red smears graced several areas, but there were no cuts or contusions she could see, no bruising, nothing.
He lay huddled in the fetal position, hugging his knee to his chest; his face was hidden from hers.
"God, Nikola, what happened?"
She knelt down beside his quivering body and laid a hand on his side.
His trembling seemed to lessen at the contact.
"Nikola, is there anything I can do to help? Tell me what's wrong," she said calmly.
"I…I'm changing Helen, I'm changing into something and I can't stop, it's that blood, whatever it does, it's doing this to me!" he gasped out.
"But we're fine, me, James, John, Nigel to some extent, we're all fine!" she bit her lip nervously. "Is your body rejecting the blood?"
"I don't think so Helen…I want you to leave, leave me now please!" he barked viciously.
"Nikola, I'm here to help, let me!" she said assuredly.
"You cannot help!" Nikolas voice deepened into something very unnatural.
He sprung up and moved away from her, into a corner of the room, still keeping his face from her.
"Nikola, what's wrong?" she followed tentatively.
"Just leave!" he shouted again.
"I won't! Not when you're like this!" she shouted back.
"Please, I don't want to hurt you," he whimpered.
She knelt in front of him and took his clammy hands in hers gently.
"You won't."
She shivered slightly at how cold is hands were.
"How can you say that when I look like this!" he turned his face and snarled at her.
She jumped back at the sight, the claws, the fangs, and the dead, black eyes.
"What are you Nikola?" she gulped.
"I'M A MONSTER!" he screamed before crashing out of the window and away into the night.
Helen took a moment to catch her breath before staring out the shattered window, she saw the rest of The Five running up the street and she ran down the stairs to join them.
"What the devil was that?" asked James as he ran up to her.
"It's Nikola, the blood, it turned him into something, something awful, I don't understand," Helen gasped.
"My god," muttered James.
"We'll get him Helen, don't worry," said Nigel, James nodded in agreement.
"Of course," mumbled John and they booked it in the direction that Nikola had gone.
Helen heard a cry and ran to a young woman, frightened and shivering.
"It was a monster!" the woman grabbed ahold of James who had knelt down beside her.
"Are you hurt ma'am" he asked kindly.
"N-no, I don't think so," she said.
"Go on, I'll stay with the girl," said James.
"Which way did the monster run?" asked Helen and the girl pointed down the street.
Helen ran fast hoping to catch Nikola before he hurt someone.
Nigel handed her a handheld pistol he had modified.
"Hit him with this Helen, it should knock him out long enough for us to get him home," he said and Helen took it quickly, her eyes searching for her friend in the dark streets.
Suddenly she was grabbed and her hand held behind her as she was pulled into the darkness of an alley.
"Shh, stay quiet!" whispered Nikola.
"Nikola!" Helen gasped. "We need to get you home, you're not well."
"It's the blood Helen, it's doing this to me, now I crave it!" he whispered and Helen felt his hand caress down her neck.
"Crave what?" she said, panic filling her voice.
"Blood, Helen, I could smell yours the moments you came up the stairs, into my room, full rich blood, that's why I left Helen, you're intoxicating," Helen gulped slightly when she felt his breath on her neck, she closed her eyes afraid of what he would do to her.
"Nikola, I know you, you wouldn't hurt me, we're going to fix you and this craving, and things will be just like they were," she reached her hands out to cup his face, opening her eyes. She could see the moon reflected in his eyes, but not much else, but she could feel him plant a kiss in the flat of her palm, and down to wrist, and her breath hitched in her throat.
Helen opened her mouth to speak, or to scream, she couldn't tell, but no sound came out because it was muffled by Nikola's kiss. It wasn't a soft tender kiss, like the ones they shared over the years, and it wasn't a passionate kiss like the ones she had dreamed of him giving her many times, it was hungry, and suffocating.
His whole body pressed against her as his lips left hers and trailed down to her neck. She was more terrified than aroused. This was not her Nikola, this was something unnatural, and his kisses were more threatening than a wolves growl. His hands, that trailed down her skin were icy, and left chills in their wake.
"Nikola, please," she whimpered, swallowing a cry.
"Close your eyes Helen, it will all be fine," he whispered menacingly into her ear, before he licked it and made of trail of kisses to the pulse point on her neck. He rested his head there for a moment, pressed flush against the soft skin of her neck, the cool skin of his face causing gooseflesh to pop up all over her body.
It felt like the hand of death was gripping her by the throat.
"I can feel your blood rushing," Nikola's voice didn't sound like him at all, he sounded inhuman, unnatural, she wondered if it was Nikola at all, or just a bad dream. "I want it."
Helen felt something sharp prick her neck and she cried out, hoping that one of the boys would rescue her.
"Helen!" she heard John's voice.
He came with Nigel and James running behind, all their guns pointed, and Nikola moved to barricade her from them.
"You can't have her!" he snarled at them.
Helen saw him wipe his mouth and she felt a hot liquid dribble down her neck, but she was afraid to move.
"Helen? What's he done to you?" growled John.
"Nikola, we're not going to take her from you, we're going to take you and her home, where we can all be together again, all five of us, won't that be nice," said James calmly, and Nikola relaxed slightly.
"Come on old chap, we're friends, we wouldn't dream of removing Helen," said Nigel, playing along with James' ruse.
"Just come with us, that's it, follow us home, that's right," cooed James and Nikola took a step forward cautiously following the threesome as the slowly backed their way out of the alley, coercing him to follow.
He heard a click behind him and he froze and turned around.
Helen had the gun Nigel had given her in hand, pointed at Nikola.
"I'm sorry Nikola," she muttered before she pulled the trigger, the shot hitting him square in the chest sending him toppling to the ground unconscious.
"John take him back to London," ordered James as he went up to her. "Helen, are you alright?" he asked checking the two puncture marks on her mark.
"I'm fine, just a little shaken," she shivered and took James hand, appreciating the humanly warmth it had.
"Why did the source blood change him like that?" asked Nigel.
"From what we know the blood unlocks dormant abnormal genes in our DNA, all humanity is a potential abnormal, just some are dormant and some are not, it's like the same reason that Helen has blue eyes and I have brown," James said flatly as he examined Helen. "Obviously there is something in our friend's DNA that has remained dormant for a long time."
"Maybe it should have stayed that way," said Helen, she shivered again, the memory of Nikola's death like coldness still lingering on her skin.
"Come on, my dear, let's take you to the pub, get some color back in your cheeks," James wrapped an arm around her comfortingly and walked her out of the alley.