Echoes in my Mind

Chapter 2: A New Terror

The days continued to pass, the nightmares were still present, but thankfully they grew less frequent. I had stopped screaming so much, and Basil had only had to come in once to calm me down since that last time.

Basil had Immediately informed Scotland Yard about all that had happened to us at Ratigan's hideout, warning them that the Napoleon of Crime was indeed alive, and convinced them to search the woods where we'd been found. But no trace was ever found, even when Basil was recovered from his wounds enough to go with them. Since then, he had been very frustrated with the whole thing, and sometimes sank into one of those dark depressions as he thought of himself as a failure for not being able to locate Ratigan's lair.

Here lately, Basil began to grow more and more restless, and I worried more about his health as the circles beneath his eyes grew darker. He wasn't getting enough sleep, and he was going insane with boredom. He tried to distract himself by playing the violin, filling the flat with a sad, melancholy tune. It had been weeks since his last case, and since Scotland Yard had given up the search for Ratigan, he was quickly falling into one of his depressions. I tried to help by assisting him with a chemistry experiment, taking walks with him, asking about his past cases. However, most of the time, he didn't seem to be in a very talkative mood, which was completely understandable, and we just stayed together, feeling grateful for the other's company.

But one day, as the familiar three brief knocks sounded upon the front door, Basil practically leaped from his chair to open it, nearly wringing Inspector Thomas Grayson's hand off as he shook it enthusiastically. Just as Basil hoped, the Inspector had come for his help, and Basil already had on his Inverness coat and deerstalker hat before Grayson could finish his sentence. The Inspector stared with his eyebrows raised as Basil rushed out the door exclaiming, "Let's go! Not a moment to lose!"

"Thank goodness you came when you did, Inspector," Dawson chuckled. "He was beginning to drive us insane."

"We'd better go after him before he causes any mischief!" I said with a laugh, and the three of us headed out to catch up with him.

I had started going on cases with Basil when his Dr. Dawson was occupied running his medical practice. I felt a little useless at first, as if I was merely an observer as Basil examined clues and tracked down criminals. But Basil loved having an audience, and actually took the time to educate Dawson and I on the methods of deduction. The good doctor had been a colleague of Basil's for several years now, and so had much more experience than me. But as time went on and I joined them more often in their investigations, I learned a lot from the famous detective, and my own powers began to improve.

Yet as I accompanied Basil and Dr. Dawson to the crime scene… I almost wished I hadn't. The victim was a young woman who had been found dead in an alleyway in Hampstead. Not an uncommon occurrence in itself unfortunately; but it was the method in which she was killed that had the police so perplexed. The poor girl lay flat on her back, her long golden hair spread out on the ground beneath her, head rolled to one side. There were no signs of a struggle, and it almost seemed like her killer had casually laid her on the ground, and her eyes were closed as if she were merely sleeping. Dr. Dawson stooped down to examine the body, finding that there were two tiny punctures on her neck with a small bloodstain around them. The doctor then made a startling discovery that shocked every mouse present.

The young woman's body had been entirely drained of blood.

One of the officers present at the scene whispered the word that was on everyone's mind: vampire. Everyone, that is, except Basil, who laughed heartily at the comment and dismissed it as "Rubbish, absolute poppycock!" I felt a little silly myself for entertaining such ridiculous thoughts. Yet with the grim circumstances surrounding the girl's death, it was painfully clear that we were not dealing with an ordinary criminal.

Basil got to work right away examining the body and the surrounding area in the alley. It was always fascinating to watch him investigating, magnifying glass in hand as he bent forward, sometimes with his nose almost touching the ground like a bloodhound hot on the scent, his sharp eyes never missing a single detail. He analyzed and explained every clue to us as if addressing students in a classroom, and seemed to have an explanation for everything…

Except the absence of blood.

"She could have been killed somewhere else and then dumped here," Chief Inspector Grayson pointed out.

"No, no, no, you're missing everything of importance!" Basil scolded in annoyance. "You've nearly destroyed the evidence by tromping through like a herd of elephants, but these are clearly the victim's footprints here, here, and here."

"Well what of the murderer's prints?" Grayson asked irately.

"Approximately sixteen centimeters tall, size nine shoes, expensive, handmade…" Basil pointed to a series of muddy footprints on the ground. "He didn't sneak up on her, or else only a small part of the shoe would be visible from where he had been tiptoeing. No, he approached her in plain sight. He stood here in one place, smoking…" Basil scooped up the ash from the ground and sniffed it. He could identify almost any type of tobacco ash, but this time he shook his head sadly. "I don't recognize this… definitely from a foreign country, but from which I'm not sure. Anyway, from the nature of the footprints- or at least the ones that haven't been destroyed-" he added, shooting a glance at the Inspector, who huffed impatiently, "he apparently stood talking with this woman for some time…and then killed her."

"But how?" Grayson exclaimed. "Where is the blood?"

For the first time since I'd known him, Basil seemed at a loss. "Not sure," he mumbled quietly, his brows drawn together in concentration as he gazed down at the girl's neck.

He then advised the Inspector to find out all he could about the victim; her family, her friends. It was very possible that she could have even known her killer. But as Basil often states, it's a bad mistake to begin spinning theories before you have all the facts. With nothing more to be gained, the three of us headed back to Baker Street, where Basil stayed up all night trying to pierce the dark veil of mystery that shrouded this young woman's horrible death.

Over the next few weeks, several citizens of Mousedom were brutally murdered. At first, they appeared to be random killlings; but now, with twenty one victims viscously claimed so far, it appeared that we had a serial killer on our hands. Not only that, but several more had simply vanished without a trace. Scotland Yard was investigating the crimes to the best of their abilities, but as always they needed the help of the Great Mouse Detective.

All the victims were mice of different classes, genders, ages… the ones who were murdered were each drained of blood and baring only those two tiny marks on their neck, and those who were missing seemed to just disappear out of thin air. And each of the crimes took place at late evening, night, or early morning. Mousedom was seized with terror, every citizen afraid that they might become the next victim.

Basil certainly had his work cut out for him, and he spent every second doing all he could to catch the villain. Dawson and I did our best to help, marking each spot on the map of London to see if we could find a pattern in the villain's movements. But so far, no luck. Every clue we found lead to a dead end.

As I lay in bed one night, I tossed and turned under the covers, unable to sleep as images of the grisly crimes swirled about in my head. I racked my brain for a solution, anything that might help us to solve them, but could come up with nothing but speculation and wild theories about the creatures of the night. Though I had read horror novels before, I never believed in vampires. They were works of fiction. Yet with the nature of the crimes, it seemed that someone was at least trying to impersonate a vampire. With these thoughts on my mind, my eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, and sleep came over me at last.

But soon I found myself trapped in another nightmare. I dreamt I was still in my bed when suddenly a strange, white mist came in through the window. I pulled the covers up around me, shivers going down my spine as the mist filled my room. I shook in fear as the mist began to take shape until a tall black shadow stood at the foot of my bed. I was petrified with terror as I looked up into those yellow eyes, now tinged with red. My heart nearly stopped as he smiled, showing white, sharp teeth with unusually long canines.

Ratigan.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound would come out. Petrified with fear, I could only look up in terror as Ratigan glided to my side. He sat on the edge of the bed and took my face in both his hands. He smiled again, showing those sharp teeth, and I shivered as he leaned toward me. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he leaned my head back, and suddenly I felt his sharp fangs piercing my neck…

And he began to drink my blood.

Author's Note: Hopefully Basil's a little more in character now that he has a mystery to solve =)

So we have these people who keep disappearing or being murdered, and everyone (except Basil) automatically thinks vampire. I know what you're thinking: "A vampire in the GMD universe? Really?" But that could just be the culprit's plan to throw everyone off and to scare everyone... but then again, who knows? Maybe it really is a vampire...

And Amber's still having bad dreams. Stuff that's happening in your everyday life can certainly have an effect on your dreams, and such is the case with poor Amber. Just think if Ratigan really WAS a vampire...

At least it was only a dream... or was it?

EDIT: Fixed spelling/grammar errors