The Strain: Another Season
Episode 10
Author's Note: I have struggled with writer's block for this chapter for years. So, I have decided to post this as and when I have enough to make sense. I had been trying to keep all the episodes in the "Another Season" series to six chapters or fewer but I may have to add to this to fit in all of Dreverhaven's tale until Setrakian makes him 'The Dismembered' of the title.
Also, this is another departure from the canon of the TV show from season 2 onwards. I had long intended for Abraham to meet both Eichhorst and Hot Dreverhaven when he acquired Sardu's cane-sword. I always thought that would be more fun than him stealing it from Rolf Steiner's antiques shop but you judge for yourself.
The Dismembered
Chapter Six
Eichhorst's Apartment, Stoneheart Building, Manhattan - The Present
Eichhorst rolls over, dislodging his wig and begins to twitch like a sleeping puppy. Whatever could he be chasing?
Poland – early 1945
In the snow and ice of a night-time forest, two Nazis, now newly-made strigoi, Dr Werner Dreverhaven and Commandant Thomas Eichhorst, make their way toward Dreverhaven's house, where young Abraham Setrakian has foolishly sought temporary sanctuary. The doctor, whose turning is complete, is boyish and exuberant, enjoying his new speed and strength, whereas Eichhorst seems to be struggling with his ongoing change. He keeps touching his scalp to see how much more hair has fallen out and his nose to check if it's still there. Considering how gorgeous Werner Dreverhaven had been in life, he is strangely unconcerned with his physical appearance now.
On arrival, they unlock the front door, in contrast to Setrakian's break-in through the servants' entrance. Dreverhaven becomes instantly alert. He "breathes" in and announces, 'Someone's here.'
'Your manservant?' Eichhorst suggests absently.
Dreverhaven shakes his head. 'A Jew.' He turns to his friend. 'Can't you smell him?'
'Who?'
'Him! A2303...'
Eichhorst is instantly focused. He sniffs. 'NOOO!' It's almost a wail of despair.
The doctor heads into the house at strigoi speed and Eichhorst follows, faster than a human but not the flit of a fully-turned vampire. He arrives to find a tear-streaked Abraham Setrakian holding off a grinning Dreverhaven with the silver sword of Jusef Sardu.
They want the sword cane but it's all that's standing between Abraham and his tormentors.
Eichhorst tries to order Dreverhaven to let him conduct negotiations. 'Werner!' No response. 'Dreverhaven!' Still nothing. 'DOCTOR!' A drooling Dreverhaven continues pacing and grinning like a hungry wolf. Finally, Eichhorst pulls rank. 'CAPTAIN!'
Dreverhaven snaps round and snarls, 'You're not my commander anymore Thomas. I take another's orders now.' He turns slowly back to Abraham. '…and if I turn him, he is mine. For all eternity.'
'This is not a storybook, Werner. If you turn him, he'll belong to the Master and He will never allow us to keep him as he is now. And He'll never Choose him. All that was uniquely him will be lost. But… if he were turned, he would give us the sword without a struggle so, if you want the 'company' of a brain-dead lump of meat for all eternity then, by all means, go ahead.'
While Abraham is yet again discussed as if he were already dead, he is slowly reversing away from the two vampires, frantically thinking of a way to escape.
Dreverhaven ponders on Eichhorst's logic for a moment and says slyly, 'So… you have already tried to preserve him for yourself… And the Master refused you.'
'Actually, He granted it. On condition of …'
Dreverhaven raises a balding eyebrow to encourage Eichhorst to go on but Abraham doesn't wait. He lunges with the sword. He's starved, weak, his hands are crushed and bleeding but the blade is pure silver. Eichhorst is fast and not yet instantly burnt by silver and consequently bolder than Dreverhaven. He dodges and deflects the blade down with his clothed forearm and he advances on Abraham. He soon has him pinned to the bed with a hand round his throat. The boy keeps his grip on the sword but can't move his arm.
Dreverhaven is angry and frustrated, obviously wishing he was the one straddling the young Jew, but scared of the silver. 'On what condition, Thomas?'
'That he joins us willingly.' Eichhorst smiles at Abraham, but not creepily. 'Poor Werner. He has never properly appreciated the power of consent. Allowed to follow my own inclination, I would have taken the time to truly win you.' He sighs and gazes longingly at Abraham's throat, bared now as he stretches away from Eichhorst's too-close face. 'But I have other obligations now, older ones - reinforced with my word of honor.'
He is clearly torn between a desire for Abraham's blood and the knowledge that it would condemn the boy to eternal servitude. Anticipating a painful sense of grief at losing the real Abraham, he grunts, 'Damn!'
So consumed is Eichhorst with his internal struggle, that he doesn't notice his prisoner's feeble resistance until…
By dint of much wriggling, Abraham finally squirms free of Eichhorst's bodyweight, smacks him across the head with the wolf's head pommel and hurls himself through the closed window. He lands in thorny shrub in a shower of glass and wooden window frame. He is covered in his own blood from the scratches and cuts but it's a much better fate than the one he was facing seconds ago. He slithers out of his prickly savior and looks up at the window. Eichhorst has spread his arms across the gap, effectively (but perhaps not intentionally) barring Dreverhaven from leaping out in immediate pursuit. Setrakian runs away as fast as he can.
It's the middle of a winter's night, pitch black with not even a glimmer of the coming dawn, and no indication of where East even is. Perhaps if he drops Sardu's cane, they will let him go... Of course they won't! All he would accomplish is rendering himself unarmed and defencelessness. All he can do is run on into the night, expecting, every second, the weight of Dreverhaven's body bearing him to the ground.
It hasn't come yet. And no sound either. Another blessed second goes by without sign of pursuit. And another. Then a rush of wind, some branches being broken by something large and snarling and the sound of footsteps on hollow wood.
The footsteps are his own, Abraham has crossed a little bridge over a stream. There's a bellow of frustration from behind. He leaves it behind as he runs on, grinning weakly. Bubbeh was right, the strigoi cannot cross water uninvited. But...
His running slows and eventually stops. He whispers one word, 'Eichhorst…' as he recalls the commandant's slower rate of change.
'You are correct, my friend,' a smiling Eichhorst says softly as he approaches out of the darkness. 'There are still some advantages I hold over Herr Doktor…'
Abraham raises the sword and backs away as fast as he can without turning his back on the threat.
'We don't have much time,' coaxes Eichhorst, holding out his hand. 'I needed only to find a part of the stream narrow enough to step over, whereas Werner has to backtrack to the source of the water. But he is very fast now. And highly motivated. I am your best hope. Come now. Come with me.
'Please. Let me save you. There is no alternative. It is him or me.' He fights to keep the urgency out of voice, trying not to spook the young man.
Abraham hesitates, tempted, and begins to reach for Eichhorst's hand, asking, 'If I do…?' But a growling noise from somewhere startles him out of it and he resumes his stepwise retreat, swishing at the space between him and Eichhorst with the sword. He puts a foot into the icy water but can't see where he's going so doesn't continue backing into the water. Instead, he sidles downstream a little until something stabs him in the buttock. It's the hand rail of the bridge. Eichhorst is infuriated that he's lost his chance at winning Abraham's confidence and charges.
Abraham swings the sword wildly in his panic and it is so sharp that it actually slices through the bridge. With a creak, it swings slowly away from Eichhorst and out into the stream. Eichhorst howls in disappointment and Abraham relaxes for a second. Until he realises that the bridge is still attached at the other end and is swinging in a slow arc toward the opposite bank where Dreverhaven awaits, grinning.
Before it comes within range of the doctor's stinger, Abraham hacks the bridge away from its fixings. He collapses with exhaustion, floating down the stream on his own little makeshift punt.
The vampires follow Abraham on either bank, sniping at each other from time to time. It's clear that Eichhorst wasn't expecting Dreverhaven to come back and interrupt.
The doctor shrugs and says, 'I got bored of trying to trace the source back.'
'More likely you got jealous.'
'Why did you never take him when you had him in your power in the camp?' Eichhorst gives him an unreadable look. 'I know you wanted him and he was right there, locked up in your private workshop. Didn't you want to waste your precious Aryan seed? Look where that got you! How many saplings took root, heh? None! Except maybe the delectable Eva von Croy… I'll fell the dirty little bitch tomorrow night and you'll have nothing left.'
'My inheritance is not of this world, Werner.'
Dreverhaven's eyes glow red with the Master's will: Well said, Thomas! Now, bring ME the woodcarver. And Sardu's sword. Or, at some point, it will cut us all!
Occasionally, Abraham needs to use this sword as a steering pole to keep himself roughly in the middle as the stream widens and the hours until dawn creep slowly along.
Dreverhaven and Eichhorst track him until just before sunrise when they shelter for the short winter's day. One beneath a boathouse, the other in a ruined pigsty. Eichhorst loses more hair and quite a few teeth and his stinger develops. At nightfall, the Master orders them to abandon the pursuit of Abraham for now and return to Castle Sardu. At Eichhorst's prompting, they do so via Dreverhaven's house where they make themselves up to appear human, Eichhorst much more carefully than Werner. Then thirst, and possibly the need for their Loved Ones, drives them towards the derelict hunting lodge on the border between the Sardu and Von Croӱ estates.
They find the Von Croӱ women sheltering there as Eichhorst had instructed his ex-lover Maria. Eichhorst takes Maria gently while the doctor greedily snatches her daughter Eva, his lover, and takes her much more roughly. Then they take a twin each. The girls are terrified by watching their mother and sister die in such a way, so Eichhorst makes it quick for Clara. Dreverhaven takes his time and chases and torments Victoria until he hears an exclamation from his friend.
Eichhorst has finished Clara and has stopped, panting. There has been a squirting sound. Looking down slowly, Eichhorst sees that he has passed a puddle of guano. It dampens the crotch area and flows down each trouser leg. Dreverhaven throws his head back and laughs at Eichhorst's disgust as the older man retches and tears his lower clothes off to gaze in horror at his bald, smooth groin.
Staring around at the scene of carnage, satiated, almost blood-drunk, Dreverhaven side-eyes his friend. 'It's so anticlimactic, isn't it? A few brief seconds of ecstasy and then…' he sighs, '…They're gone, emptied and useless; either silent piles of meat we can't drink or the undead waiting to be reborn as The Master's slaves.' He grins. 'You know… If we were still men, we could enjoy them over and over again.
'We should try that next time, Thomas - try to take a little blood and not let the worms cross over as we drink. What do you say, my friend, heh?'
Eichhorst is surprised that the first rapine thought in Werner's head is to do with thirst rather than lust but the only thought in his head is revulsion. 'I never want to drink again until I can be sure I will not soil myself.'
Dreverhaven laughs at him again. 'If you do not drink, you will shrink and shrivel like your poor dead little cock!'
'Then I shall learn to control my bodily functions. As of this very moment. Both the drinking and the…the going to the bathroom.'
