[sylvanSpider]

Simon nodded, “Understandable, to be sure, especially when migrating here from another country. However, even if you follow some other form of Judaism, surely you would prefer to have her body properly prepared? I find it interesting that such an event happened to your grandmother and you are not excited by my presence, unless you know who did it? Unless it was you, I sincerely doubt you do—and if you do and are not telling me, you are obstructing a government official from evidence. An offense, mind you, punishable by death—even for a woman.” The corner of his lip twitched up and stayed there, wondering what she could possibly say.

“I am a man of the church, yes, but I am investigator nonetheless. I must see the body,” Simon said, eyeing her carefully.

[Worm]

Elizabeth scowled, her lip quivering. "Even though I am accustomed to your ways here... My grandmother... We have a certain way to deal with our dead. And in our country, it is a family matter. A personal matter. And its extremely -" She sighed, shaking her head. "If you want to see the body. Then I will show you. But I ask for no judgement from your god fearing customs." She turned on the ball of her foot and gestured for him to follow with a long nail beckon.

In the bathroom, Rose, Blanche and Lillian cleaned the blood with ease, licking up every corner of the tub. By the time they heard Elizabeth turning the corner, Blanche was prepared. She closed her eyes, and began breathing deeply through her nostrils. She walked into the master bedroom, still taking breaths that would signal distress. The other two continued to work with no recognition to their third member.

Blanche would do anything for her mistress. She meant it from the moment she gave over her soul. With another suck of breath, she felt the life leaving her animated corpse. Elizabeth drew it out of her from afar. In just a few seconds, Blanche was turned to a burnt crisp of jerky, unrecognizable as any specific human. Her mouth was agape, her skin flaking off in chunks, and her arms crossed over her body ritualistically. And as if on cue, Rose and Lillian made their way into the room. Rose placed herbs on Blanche's chest, Lillian sprinkled a ring of salt around her body. It was timed just so when Elizabeth and Simon would turn into the room, Rose and Lillian would be back in the bathroom, and Blanche would be a perfectly prepared corpse.

"You see?" Elizabeth waved her arm over the delicate body. If it were to be touched, it might crumble into dust. "As I said... She wished for a pagan death ceremony. And I hope that this does not grant me death." She lowered her head, Rose, Lillian and William in the palm of her hand when needed. "This is what she wanted... This is how her mother was cared for, and my own. My mother died a long time ago." In some ways, it was beautiful. The body was delicate, and unrecognizable. It was as if Elizabeth had prepared a body like this before... And she had indeed. It reminded her deeply of Isabel. It stung deep in her chest to see the body. In fact, her eyes welled with sincere tears.

[sylvanSpider]

Simon's face betrayed nothing, and his glaring at her with her explanations as to her “customs” fell on the deaf ears of the trained Hellsing, and his silence answered the woman for him. Yes, he was going to view the God damned body. He followed wordlessly, all too willing to observe this body. If they did not mutilate it enough, perhaps he could try to ascertain who they used in a stead.

The hellsing was obviously not afraid of gore, and again his face did not reveal his thoughts as he hunched over the body, leaning in particularly close to the neck to see if he could see where a blade had cut. There wasn't any sign, but then, the body had been burned and even a superficial cut to a normal human's throat, and especially to that of an elderly woman, would bleed enough to cause a fatality. Without moving from his hunched position, he turned his head to Elizabeth, “Partial cremation? I have yet to hear of any culture that practices only partial cremations. As I'm eager to learn, Ms. Ward, would you care to enlighten me as to the reasons this ritual is carried out in such a manner? Further, why are you shying away from information pertaining to the murder? Do you not wish to find out who murdered your grandmother?”

[Worm]

Elizabeth was boiling with fury. This man was frustrating to say the least. If he didn't leave soon, he would never leave. Her eyes zoomed in on his as he questioned more over the corpse of Blanche. "Mister Simon. I assure you that there was no foul play. I never said that there was a murder. You see.. This was suicide." She sighed, reaching over the bed to grasp the leathery, burnt hand of Blanche.

"As I said, she was lonely. And I assume that me coming was ... a sign that she could leave. At least, that's what I tell myself." Elizabeth knew all too well the curse of living, and would never blame someone for dying in such a way. There was one particular suicide which would hang with her until this day. And obviously, it was that same suicide which led her to this moment. She wondered how much longer it would be until she could see her dearest Isabel again.

"And if you'll excuse my impartial attitude, but you are not from my country. You have not seen the witches of Hungary, and I don't seek another burning. I would like to lay my family to rest and this is what we do for certain deaths.. such as suicide." She sighed deeply. "This is only the first part of our ritual and I would be much happier if you left the rest to family. This is a family matter, as I've suggested before. And right now, you are trespassing." Rose and Lillian looked up from their caretaker positions at Simon. All three sets of eyes glared him down now.

[sylvanSpider]

"The matter should have been reported regardless. The entire situation is strangely suspicious, don't you think? Surely, you won't apprehend me from my job as part of the town you yourself chose to live in's law enforcement? If you have done nothing wrong, then you have nothing to fear." He turned again, unable to ignore the feeling of being watched by more eyes than Miss Ward's. Regardless, he crouched down unclasping his briefcase and producing his camera, taking a picture of the body from a couple of different angles before packing it up again.

When he was finished, Simon stood and turned to stare at Miss Ward, "Thank you for your time, however unwilling it was. And I am allowed by law to be here so long as there is a reason I should be. I will be in touch regarding the search for Mr. Shaw."

[Worm]

Elizabeth was pleased to hear the man's forfeit, no matter the resistance. "Sir, this has been the first time I've lived in this area. Would you figure that I would know any of the law enforcement in this area? I hadn't gotten acquainted with the people here. It was a shock to come here and for this to happen so rapidly after. In some ways, I felt that it was planned." She shook her head, feigning a sort of purity and naivety. "Now that I am aware, I will be sure to reach out to you in the future regarding any information about Mr. Shaw." She looked up, greeting his eyes with hostile, predator eyes.

Soon, she would be with her dearest Isabel. And this entire thing will be left an unsolved mystery in Simon Wegg's books. "Tell me Sir, do you know what Mister Shaw looks like? I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him." She asked before rushing the man out of her home.

[sylvanSpider]

“I have no image of him on my person, though I do find it a bit of an extreme oddity that the granddaughter of a woman such as your grandmother would have never made the acquaintance of one who was attempting business,” Simon turned on his heel, rolling his eyes as he did so, making his way for the door. “Good day, Miss Ward! I believe you and I shall be in touch.”

=-=-=
The day had been a resounding success. With only a couple of hiccups in the road, Emily managed to pick up the perfect gift for her beloved, and they'd made it back in a relatively short time. But she couldn't get that woman's face out of her mind. It haunted her, and even now she could still feel that residual guilt. The feeling was not one that she knew well, but it was the strongest feeling she'd felt in a very long time. She felt pulled to her, like there was string embedded in her heart, the other end of the string attached to the beautiful finger of the woman. The name Elizabeth came to her, hazy, as if it was in a dream.

But now, she had to shake that face and that name out of her memory because she found the roles being reversed on her as they entered the women's home—she now being a caretaker, Rosamund the taken care of. “I'm...sorry, Miss Barker. I don't know what's come over me. I'm...sorry. Would you mind fetching a ehm...a bucket for m--” Rosamund began to ask, getting cut short by bile rising to the back of her throat.

Emily didn't have to hear the rest; she led Rosamund to a seat, taking the fire and fetching a bucket for her most dearest friend. “Rosamund, don't worry about me. I think it's high time I be the one to take care of you. Here, take this,” Emily said, her brow furrowing. Rosamund earlier in the day had looked as spry as she had in childhood. Now, she looked like death itself. Her face was wan and pale, in stark contrast to her flush and rosy cheeks Emily was accustomed to seeing her with.

The rest of the day came and went, and Emily sent for a doctor, the man coming in more time than Emily would have liked, “I would have sent for you sooner, but I thought it was just a flu...But the symptoms, doctor...they aren't getting better. Please tell me what is wrong with her...”

The doctor in question waved his hand in obvious dismissal of the lady who had called him, checking the blonde's pulse, shaking his head when he could find none. “She's gone. Now, I cannot fix her. She is the mortician's job now. Shall I send for him?”

Emily's eyes widened, tears forming at the corners immediately and running down her cheeks. “Sir, I'm sorry...but how can this be? She was fine earlier today, fine! What happened?”

“Poison is possible, as we've never seen a sickness move this swiftly. An autopsy will be necessary. I ehm, forgot to mention, Miss Barker, I will be sending law enforcement as well. I do not suspect you, but any information you can give them as to who she was with today will be necessary.” The doctor tipped his hat, leaving.

Emily dropped to her knees, staring blankly ahead needing to process exactly what had just happened.

Rosamund was dead.

[Worm]

Elizabeth could only scoff, smirk and admire the man's persistence as she shut the door behind him. "Good riddance." She drifted back to the bedroom where her concubines were. The leathered figure of Blanche still resting on the bed. "Go ahead. Feed her to the wolves. They must be hungry." She stroked the back of Lillian's head, her soft, puffy hair barely gracing Elizabeth's fingertips. Lillian looked back at her with big, lustful eyes. And Rose followed with the same glance. They were both enamored by Miss Ward, mainly because she was the puppeteer of their souls. William was not far behind.

As the two girls delivered the vampire jerky to the wolves, Elizabeth found herself a new task. By now Isabel's guardian would be fatally ill or dead. It was time for her to check in and perhaps sweep young Isabel off of her feet, once again. She placed her wide brimmed hat back on her head, veil draping her exquisite features. Her black clothing could be explained as a sort of mourning if anyone would wonder. She grabbed her umbrella and floated back down the stairs and towards the front door.

It was dusk now. Her favorite time of day. A long whiff of the air brought her back to immortality. The wolves howled and growled in the distance, jubilant with the gift of food. Elizabeth embraced the chill in the air and dissipated into smoke, reappearing at the edge of town. She followed Isabel's scent. Through a window she could see her weeping... Good.

[sylvanSpider]

Simon adjusted his collar, stepping into the now late afternoon sunlight. It was likely that she'd become active now; he had to deliver an order to the law enforcement regarding a curfew, then it was back to William Shaw's board—he had to inquire on questions he already knew the answer to. Had William Shaw returned at some point in the day as he was occupied. Of course not. But, he had to be sure.

There was still the fact that Mrs. Thomas's body was still available for inspection; it was indeed an option it having still not been delivered to the mortician's from the coroner's. It wasn't necessary, however, and Simon needed to get his priorities straight. The first, finding Mr. William Shaw, seemed to be a moot point. He already knew in what state he'd find him in, and it was at a stand still. He'd need to catch Ms. Ward unaware, in the act, meaning he'd have to narrow down a target that Miss Ward would likely be after.

So, what did he know about the two targets he'd seen? Both persons seemed to be of around the same age range. Children and the elderly could then be marked off as the least likely candidates. One male and one female, though the male he couldn't necessarily pin on her...yet. Then, focusing on the one certain victim of a vampire—Mrs. Thomas. She was young and, though one wouldn't be able to tell by her remains, once very beautiful. Given Mr. Shaw's age, one could assume that his wife was of a similar age—a potential target? Could Shaw's fiance possibly be the next victim?

It seemed there was suddenly a shift in priorities.

=-=-=

Rosamund lay, pale and beautiful, still and growing cold. She was now nothing more than an empty shell of what was once a bright, vibrant, and loyal soul. There kneeling by her side, clasping both of Rosamund's lifeless hands, was Miss Emily Barker, her gracious and kind mistress. Still very full of life, but equally with misery. Sobs heaved in the living's breast, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Rosamund...how dare you go before me...How dare you...” And poison? It made no sense. Rosamund had no enemies, treating even the lowest with kindness and generosity. She was a true, upstanding Christian woman. Who would do such a thing to her? Surely not the sweet woman selling apples? She'd purchased fruits from her countless times before and yet...

Knock, knock, knock

“Miss Barker, are you inside? Police here,” the voice behind the noises said.

“It's open,” the haggard woman croaked.

A man in uniform appeared in the doorway, but Emily stayed where she was, clasping onto Rosamund's hands as if her own warmth could somehow keep Rosamund from the impending rigor mortis. His hand found a place at the base of her neck and Emily looked up with red tear-stained eyes to the officer, “Miss Barker, we need to ask you a few questions.”

Emily nodded, dumbly, willing to answer any questions if it meant more answers for herself.

“First. Can you tell me about Rosamund's last day. Where was she and who was she with?”

“Me. All day. We...we had a late breakfast, and then we went to the town to purchase a gift for my husband-to-be...”

[Worm]

Her instincts told her that it was time to return to the safety of her home. There were eyes on her, not including Simon's. Surely, there would be officials at Emily's door soon too. So Elizabeth cloaked herself and vanished back into the thicket of her forest. From the bottom of her castle's hill, the moon looked like the perfect silver dish to eat upon. The howls of wolves welcomed her back home.

If William were to return. Then perhaps she would no longer be a suspect. A smile crawled up the corner of her lips as Elizabeth floated directly towards her mental prison, where William lay. He was dreaming of a field of flowers, Emily's hand extending to him as she called his name. "William...William...My Beloved... William..." He reached out his own hand, only to wake. Looming eyes of the predator remained still. "William." Elizabeth cooed, but he did not respond.

His stomach growled angrily, so he clutched it. "William. You are going to see your beloved." So tired and mentally confused, all he could do was nod. He wasn't sure what was real or dream anymore. Elizabeth reached out her slender hand and touched his forehead softly. HE saw the open field, golden sunlight, Emily's voice, and his body was now Elizabeth's to use. His body wandered towards Emily's house, but the walk would take him over an hour. Elizabeth observed through his eyes, though her own body remained at home in the safety of her mental prison.

[sylvanSpider]

Mr. Simon Wegg was not to be deterred. Ms. Ward was clever; he'd give her that. The answers were there painted on the wall for him, but it wasn't enough to implicate her through the church. He needed to be able to prove what he already knew as truth. He heaved his briefcase over his head, slinging it over his shoulder as he went into the police station. “I need to speak with Chief Thomas. Where is he?”

“In here, Investigator,” a gruff, tired sounding voice answered before the secretary could utter a single word. The referenced investigator now nodded his dismissal toward the secretary stepping into the room that Mr. Thomas was residing in. It was ill-lit, only a gas lamp illuminated scattered documents across the table, the figure to whom the voice belonged was hunched over said documents, fists clenched. “Tell me you have good news.”

“I need you to issue a mandatory curfew beginning now and not to be let up on until midnight,” Simon said simply, eyes coolly placed on the Chief and wondering if the man was strong enough to carry on with his mantle considering the losses the man suffered.

“I'll set my remaining men to the task right away.”

“Remaining men? What do you mean, 'remaining men'?”

“Two have been discharged to Miss Barker's residence, questioning Miss Barker herself. There was a poisoning. The timing is unfortunate, but it's another instance of murder that can't properly be overlooked, not even if your claims are to be believed, Mr. Wegg.”

Simon paused for a moment, bringing his hand up to his chin, “Barker...Barker...Barker...Wait. Does she happen to be the young woman intended to marry Mr. William Shaw?”

“The one and only. But Inspector Wegg, I fail to see how this applies to your investigations regarding my wife, Mrs. Thomas. I...I need to see her brought to justice, Inspector. I need it.”

Simon shook his head, eyes again trained on the chief, “After my investigations today, I have reason to believe that Miss Barker's safety may be in question. Tell me, Chief, how old is this Miss Barker?”

“She is...let's see here...she just turned one and twenty, I believe.”

“Twenty-one, then? A mere two years younger than Mrs. Thomas,” Simon murmured, scratching his chin. “Very well. I'll attend to protective services for Miss Barker right away. If she is the one being questioned now, pray tell—who was it that was poisoned then?”

“None other than Barker's best friend and charge, Rosamund Quincey, Mr. Wegg.”

Her charge? Simon mused to himself, Her death and Mr. Shaw's absence would leave her wide open then, wouldn't it? He stood up, “I must be going. I'll expect the curfew to be in effect within the next few minutes, if possible.”

“Very well, Inspector. I'll see to it myself if need be.”

“That's what I like to hear.”

[Worm]

William moved with no animation. It was like watching a machine in a human shell, if one could imagine such a thing. The thickets of forest which surrounded Eliabeth’s castle thinned down to the main town square. Street lamps remained on, but the ones placed on home and business doors were mostly out. It was Emily’s house which acted like a star amidst the dark. It called to Elizabeth and she guided William there. However, the carriage outside told her that authorities were caring for her loss. William stood like a deer in headlights outside of Emily’s estate. Though the wind was nipping at his cheeks and causing them to redden, he didn’t lift a scarf or tilt a hat. He stood without blinking.

Once Elizabeth decided it best for him to return, he did so. He turned on his heel stiffly and began making his way home. His new caretaker would then feed him human food. After all, he was a good tool that deserved some fuel.

[sylvanSpider]

When Simon was finished with his affairs at the police station he moved into the freshly cleared streets, a lone silhouette gliding through the lamplight. The solitary figure reveled in the silence and the loneliness that came with the curfew. The chill night air wrapped around him like only the most affectionate lover, raising the hair on his arms as the cold seeped through the seams of his jacket. Steam billowed from the man's mouth, taking on an orange hue as he passed under the lights; stark white while in the shadows.

A steady reminder of one's own mortality.

Vampires such as Ms. Ward....they lacked the warmth needed to create a visible breath in this cold. Simon was warm, a human in a world run from the shadows by the supernatural, a human—one of the few—aware that they were weak. In that knowledge, Simon gained his strength. Further learning on their weaknesses, fears, distastes...an upperhand could be gained. Nay, “could” was the wrong word. An upperhand would be gained. Simon would be sure of that himself.

Simon arrived at his destination as the body of Miss Rosamund Quincy was being loaded into the carriage that would take her to the mortuary, a clear indicator that he had found the right place. He walked past the body without so much as casting a passing glance, shifting slightly to allow the police officer to pass who tipped his hat, “Mr. Wegg.”

“Officer Jones,” said Simon, formally.

It was not difficult to decipher which person in the room was Emily; she was still hunched over the now-empty bed that Rosamund had died in, head buried in her arms, her chest heaving with now silent sobs. Simon stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The crying ceased momentarily as the woman lifted her eyes to see who could be attempting to give her comfort. If one could call it that. Even in her sorrow, Simon could see that he was right in assuming that she may be the next target. The woman was beauty incarnate, fiery red hair, untamed, framed a narrow but not gaunt face, her lips and cheeks had a pink color no doubt a result of her incessant tears, and emerald green eyes looked up at the cold looking man.

“Emily, I presume? I am Investigator Simon Wegg. I do not suspect you, and I will have your name erased from the list of suspects. However, I do have reason to believe that you are in danger.”

[Worm]

William was little more than a shell at this point. Once his body reached home, the glazed look in his eye just stared at the closed front door until it was swung open by what seemed the wind. He walked inside. Elizabeth was waiting in the dining room, dressed in a lace sleepwear. It was black, sheer and quite revealing. But the William who once might have adverted his glance just took a seat at the table, not blinking once.

Elizabeth crossed her legs from across the length of the table. A smile on her lips as William placed his hands on his table cloth. Moments later Rose entered with a covered dish, steaming from underneath its lid. After she placed it atop the white tablecloth, she lifted the lid, revealing an enormous plate of beef wellington. Rose proceeded to lean in, slice off a piece for William and place it on the plate in front of him. The fine china was immediately discolored with red and brown. Elizabeth sat like stone, her hands woven together on the other side of the table.

William blinked. The smell of food seeming to awake some sentience in him. He blinked again, this time looking down. Without thinking twice, he grabbed his form and knife and began ripping into the piece of meat. He was hungrier than he'd even been in his life. And yet, he couldn't finish the piece. It was so filling, and so hearty. He felt his stomach groan and wail as he finally filled it. He leaned back, groaning too and holding his gut.

"All done, William?" Elizabeth cooed from across the table. He opened one eye to make contact with hers, as if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Yes'm." He said, nodding his head and leaning forward again like the gentleman he was. He brushed his shirt off, letting any food remnants fall to the floor.

"What about dessert?" Elizabeth smiled as Lilian entered the room, retrieving William's plate and the large piece of untouched wellington.

"Ma'am?" He pleaded, eyes filled with dread.

"Ah, I think you'll like it." Rose returned with a plate of beautiful, pink gelatin. "Just a bite, William." Elizabeth hummed. Rose leaned down to him, her bosom pressing against his shoulder as she kissed his neck gently. He felt goosebumps rise up and down his body. He let his eyes roll back, pleasure being one thing he'd forgotten. Rose then took his spoon and sliced into the perfect gelatin. As the spoon glided through it like butter, William gulped. The spoonful of rose floated towards his mouth and he only had one option. So he opened up and took the bite.

[sylvanSpider]

Emily's eyes were still luminescent emeralds, laying in a field of pale snow glowing softly in the light of the fire. But Simon wasn't looking at her any longer, in fact, he had turned completely and now turned to the retreating officer, “Officer Jones, before you leave, may I have a brief word?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Wegg. Do you need anything else from the force?” Officer Jones was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a deep voice and an equally deep heart. Even Simon with his height of one hundred ninety centimeters had to turn his gaze slightly upward at the uniformed man.

“I am requesting a new escort for Miss Emily here. Given the circumstances, I deem it necessary. Until one is produced, I will work to fulfill that role. However, I ask that you make haste in finding one, I cannot waste much time here, lest another victim fall prey,” Simon straightened his tie, disregarding the woman on the floor who seemed to be finding more and more distaste with her temporary escort as he spoke. Simon continued, “Again, I would like to thank you and all of the other members of the force for your aid in my investigations.”

Officer Jones nodded, even offering the man a warm smile (not returned) before ducking out of the doorway to relay Simon's latest orders. The police had given Simon everything he asked; they were easy enough tasks, but Jones couldn't help but question where his investigations were leading them. He suspected a vampire behind the attacks, Mr. Wegg was forthright about that. But even after seeing the body of poor Mrs. Thomas, he still had a hard time believing that the creatures existed at all. Still, he bore official papers from the Church of England. He was official clergy. So long as his work was in the name of God, he would have the polices' allegiance.

The door shut behind Jones, but the chill from outside still lingered in the doorway, and still in Emily's heart, “Get me a new escort? Just like that? And I'm to have a male as my escort? I will tell you right now, Mr....Wegg, was it?” With an assenting nod from the cold fellow, finally turning again to face her, “Wegg, then. Mr. Wegg, I will tell you right now that I am a woman who is engaged to be married--”

“I am chaste as far as you are concerned, Miss Barker,” Simon responded coolly, his hands once again reaching to straighten his already straight tie, “I am clergy to the Church of England with the title of Head Investigator. An investigator to what you may ask, but I fear that even if I told you, you would not believe me.”

“I'm asking now,” the redhead retorted with a snort. The trail the tears had left down her cheek was still there, but beginning to dry, drying her skin with it. Emily didn't seem to notice, as she'd made her way to her feet, her hands planted firmly on her hips. She did not like the situation she was in, and she wished now, more than ever, that William would waltz through the door. This way, even if a man did try to lay hands on her in an immodest way, it would be the man who would later claim her as his wife. But, he hadn't shown up at any point in the day, and she was beginning to get worried. His morning routine before he began conducting business usually included a breakfast with she and Rosamund, and after business was conducted he would accompany the ladies on a walk down in the park in the down town areas. Today, however, he hadn't shown for either of the usual times.

Simon's cool, gray eyes found hers and honed in, “I am an investigator of supernatural affairs, specializing in the work of vampires, Miss Barker.”

“Vampires?! You have got to be out of your mind, Mr. Wegg! Vampires do not exist, and surely, as a man of the church, you wouldn't believe such nonsense either!” The woman, at this juncture, looked as if she'd been through Hell and back, and perhaps a lesser man, one who didn't understand her situation, would have her committed. Surely, she'd be safe in the nuthouse, though that was a fate worse than death, and was one of the many faults he could find with both the monarchy as well as his church. But, they employed him, and Simon was bound to obey, so long as they allowed him to keep up with his experiments. It was a symbiotic relationship, Simon and the Church, one that probably wound up with more good than harm coming to the world so far as supernatural beings were concerned, but only on accident as only a mere side effect.

“On the contrary, Miss Barker, the Church works to combat such forces as they are of the Devil. It is the side of religion attempted to be shielded from the congregations for their safety as well as their continued allegiance to the same God that created these creatures. God loves all of his Children, you see, but humans are his most beloved—and we work to ensure the safety of his most beloved Children, yourself included,” Simon never lost the matter-of-fact nature in the timber of his voice and he proceeded to explain, “That's why I am here this evening. I am attempting the best etiquette I can muster, and it doesn't seem to be enough for you.”

Emily ignored the last sentence, her emerald eyes never losing the glint of fire, “Very well, then. Supposing vampires are real, then why here, and why me? Why am I in danger? Rosamund was poisoned. This was the work of another human. Rosamund still had all of her blood, and I saw her body give out due to the poisons. No vampires involved. Why are you here?”

“Asking the question once would have sufficed, Miss Barker,” Emily hated the repeated use of her name; Simon didn't mind that obvious distaste, “However, that is where I believe you to be incorrect. I was sent a telegraph late in the evening, yesterday evening regarding the death of a Mrs. Thomas--”

“Mrs. Thomas? You don't mean--”

“The one and only. I had assumed that word of her death had gotten out already. I am sorry that I must be the bearer of bad news, but it was necessary for my explanation nontheless,” Simon said in a tone that said he wasn't really that sorry, only that him having to the bearer meant a further inconvenience for him. “Mrs. Thomas was found laying face-up in her garden completely drained of her blood. This, as you would imagine, is a tell-tale sign of a vampire—either one who was very new and just now realizing their thirst for blood, or, as is seeming to be the more likely case, an ancient vampire who had not fed in entirely too long. Perhaps one who had been sleeping, or again in the most likely case, one who had had the appearance of an elderly, no...no, ancient person—but the work of a vampire regardless.” Simon stopped to take a breath, making his way to the bed that Emily now stood closest too, dainty frail fists clenched. In this break, his eyes met hers, waiting for questions at this point in the explanations.

“That's all well and good,” Emily muttered at length, “But what does that have to do me? Or poor Rosamund?” she asked, her voice cracking on the last syllable of “Rosamund.”

“Good. You seem to be following. At this juncture? Nothing, but further investigations led straight to you. You might as well have a sign over your head,” Simon cleared his throat, “Here. Let me explain. I began my investigations, naturally, with a brief autopsy of Mrs. Thomas revealing exactly as I had anticipated. Now, generally in a case such as hers, the vampire is someone known in town, though separated. They'll be living on the outskirts of town, or even in the countryside, and the locals to the town would likely have some knowledge of such a person,” He paused to take in Emily's reaction. Her eyes widened, knowing such a person—the person that her beloved was conducting business with. Simon seemed satisfied that she was following along, and if she was as quick as she seemed to be, would come to the same conclusion that he himself had, “I struck gold when I came the household that has your fiance, Mr. William Shaw, as a ward. As it turned out, he hadn't shown up for dinner at the usual time, and neither of that lovely couple had so much as seen him since he went out to conduct business with Ms. Ward. It is in his disappearance that I was able to target you. You are the same age as Mrs. Thomas, correct? At least, give or take a couple of years.”

Emily nodded dumbly. Simon continued, “The death of Miss Quincy furthers that suspicion. Most vampires will find in their prey features that they find sexually appealing. Mrs. Thomas, she was described to me as very beautiful in life, as are you. Now. With Rosamund's death, knowledge the vampire has already fed and does not want to look suspicious, poison would be the perfect way to get you isolated. Unfortunately for Madame Vampire, the top of the business is attending to your needs. Do you see why I am here now, Miss Barker? I aim to protect you, and, if possible, retrieve William safely, though I must be honest—my hope for him is not high.”

[Worm]

The way that candle light hit Elizabeth’s face made her hooked nose appear even more daunting. It was a feature of hers that clearly gave away her eastern European bloodline. Her skin radiated against the warm glow of candlelight, snake like eyes watched as William took bite after bite of Mrs. Thomas’ brain. It seemed that the mind control was still in effect. When a human is surrounded by vampires long enough, a euphoric state eventually becomes a lens over their reality.

”Wow! This is – amazing!” William took another bite before looking over to his vampire captor. Her eyes dug into him like knives. He gulped, swallowing the grey and slimy spoonful. ”The texture… Is almost familiar.” He sighed, realizing how awkward he felt now. ”Are you going to have any?” He lifted his spoon to Elizabeth, who in response lifted a hand and shook her head.

”No thank you. I am quenched.” Her voice quiet and calm as William took another bite.

It was in that bite that he blinked away that little bit of haze over his vision. Like a dream, or a hallucination, he watched the lens slip away. For a brief moment, he saw the disgusting mass of brain matter in front of him. His spoon was coated in slime and blood. His face became white like a sheet. He dropped his spoon. The silver clicked against the wooden floor and before it had time to rest, William vomited. He tucked his body to the side of the beautiful, hand carved dinner table. He didn’t want to look up, because sobriety was kicking in now.

”William.” Elizabeth didn’t move. It was the brood mother’s duty to create a cohesive hive, not to do any heavy lifting. ”What did you see?” Her voice hummed across the table, under the cream colored table cloth and into William’s mind.


”Emily. Emily…” Drool splattered from his mouth as he spoke. Along with some little bits of chewed up brain. ”She was – there was a man with her. A few of them.” He choked, trying to process his experience as a marionette.

”Yes. They are watching her.” Elizabeth sighed, standing up. Her long legs were surrounded by the black veil of her gown. ”Smarter than I thought they were.” She strummed slender fingers against a pointed chin.

”Can I – Can I go back?” He hesitated. His eyes didn’t blink, he stared straight into the bubbling pile of bile and cerebral cortex. Elizabeth chuckled, looking over the mess. Before she could return a glance to the unsavory spot, her girls were scrubbing at William’s feet.

”Go back? Ridiculous!” She chuckled again.

”No! I-I won’t tell anyone about you! I can – I can go back to Emily. Tell her I got kidnapped by a band of gypsies! Or I could tell her – I had to get away after you- … Your grandmother’s death. Right. I could say I didn’t want to be a suspect.” He shook his head up and down, nearly convincing himself, snot bubbling from his barely sane face.

Elizabeth sighed, almost seeming to breathe through every wooden object in the house, them too sighing and creaking. ”No William. I need you.” With the mess on the floor now clean, Rose and Lillian hovered behind William. ”Because I need Emily. MY ISABEL.” Her eyes erupted with a passion rarely seen, the candles around the room raised in unison. Elizabeth snapped her fingers and her entourage of attractive fangs began to escort William back to their dream chambers. There he would return to his rose-colored lenses and forget all about his fiancé once again. William kicked and pushed the girls, only to be swarmed onto. Straight for the throat, Lillian held onto him like a chew toy until they could reach his prison.

Elizabeth plopped back down into her dining chair, a throne in its own right. She had plans for William. However, she admired his courage. The strumming of her nails against the dining table repeated in time with the ticking of her standing clock.