Whitby Vampyrrhic

  Eleanor added, ‘Victoria and Theo’s condition is held in check by the Quick Salts.’

  ‘However, as you see, we lead lives that are greatly diminished. Basically, we’re reduced to husks that merely resemble our past selves.’

  This shook Sally. ‘Does that mean I’ll be like Theo? Has the bite infected me?’

  ‘Trust me, dear –’ Eleanor smiled – ‘you’ll be fine. I applied the powder in time.’

  Beth found her eyes drawn to Eleanor’s wrist. ‘But Eleanor was bitten first. Why isn’t she now like Gustav?’

  ‘Ah, that’s the great mystery!’ Theo’s manner had become volatile. ‘That’s what we’d all love to know! Gustav is bitten. He becomes Vampiric. He attacks a number of his friends. They turn into demonic night creatures. But what of my beautiful sister?’ The sheer volume of his voice rattled pans on the stove. ‘The skin is breached on her skin. One of the monsters in the cavern suckled. But why didn’t Eleanor become infected? Why is she immune? What lies hidden in my sister’s blood? A certain something that has kept her clean.’

  ‘I don’t feel clean,’ she hissed. ‘Look.’ She pulled back the sleeve to reveal what resembled tiny pink roses budding from her wrist. ‘Those are open wounds. They never healed. What’s more, they never will heal. My life is blighted.’

  ‘Afraid a man can never love you, with your skin all punctured like that?’ Theo’s voice had become savage – raw emotion coarsened it. ‘But you’ve shared our mucky little secret with your friends here. That Whitby is plagued by vampires. So, now you’ve told them, what do you intend to do with your comrades in arms? Because that’s what you’ve become. I can see it. You four people have forged a bond. You are a team. You care for one another. But will you die for each other?’ He raked his fingers through his hair.

  ‘Theo, calm down.’

  ‘How can I be calm? I know too much, Eleanor. Do you know, at night I watch from my bedroom window? I see Gustav and his Vampiric friends swarming through town. They race through the streets like hungry panthers out on a hunt. Gustav has added more to his squad. There’s a man in a pilot’s uniform. He’s also recruited Mary Tinskell. And you know something? They excite me. I want to run with them. I want to feed. I want to taste what they taste.’ The black pupils in his eyes grew more pronounced, fiercer. His gaze raked over the people in the room. By now, he obviously couldn’t remain still if he tried. His hands ran over the timbers of the door. When he spoke, the sentences came out fractured, guttural, as if a transformation was taking place inside his head. ‘I see everything. I know everything. There’s a boy who runs with a black dog. The dog is as alive as you warm, healthy people. Yet the boy is Vampiric. He was taken seventy years ago. He searches for a way back home. His parents? Oh . . . his parents are long dead. Instinct drives him. Home is what he hungers for, not blood. Home, home . . . Strange that, isn’t it?’ He paced the room again. ‘Then not everyone bitten becomes Vampiric. Isn’t that the truth, dear Eleanor!’

  ‘Theo,’ Eleanor said firmly. ‘Drink the medicine.’

  ‘Oh, you want me to drink now. To imbibe! To revert back to the tenth of a man I once was! You only dragged me back to my senses so I could reveal your horrific secrets for you. Because you’re still afraid to admit that this tragedy ever occurred.’ He sucked air through his nostrils. ‘And do you want to know something really horrific? I hear them in the sump cavern. All of Tiw’s vampires. You know, he raised the dead from a battlefield over a thousand years ago. Hundreds of dead Viking warriors gathered up into Tiw’s supernatural embrace . . . He breathed life back into them, then left them in the sump cavern. There they bided their time. Waiting. Now a war is raging. The country is forced to remain in darkness by night. A mandatory blackout. And isn’t the blackout a perfect environment for the vampire?’ He listened again. ‘I hear them singing. Last night, a ship blew up near the cliffs. The blood of all those men washed through fissures into the sump. Picture it: a broth of crimson surging in with the tide. It painted the bodies a glorious, living red. They bathed in blood. And they exulted. The vampires sing about their excitement. About their lust to be free. To join Gustav and to drink the blood of Whitby men and women dry.’

  ‘Theo, take this.’

  ‘Alec. Ask me how I know. Interrogate me, Beth. How can I know all this . . .?’ He pushed his fists against his temples. ‘But I do.’

  Alec and Beth moved towards Theo. Sally pulled back one of the kitchen chairs. Eleanor picked up the glass that contained the glittering liquor.

  Theo’s nostrils flared. ‘I can smell it in your veins. All that red nectar . . . it’s pounding through your heart. And I know Gustav and his kind are worming their way out of holes in the cliff face. Those are their lairs, you know. During daylight, that’s where they sleep. High in the cliff where nobody will find them. The boy will be pushing himself out of his tomb to join the dog. They’ll be running towards Whitby soon. I know all this . . . but I’ve not set foot outside the hotel boundary for years. So – how do I know? As Gustav would say, “Ah, Tiw strikes again!”’ He turned to face the door.

  Beth sensed the man’s eagerness. What’s more, tension sizzled in the air. She’d sensed it in the studio when she’d wandered into the set of Whitby that had never existed in the first place. Perfidious Tiw. Is he going to meddle in human affairs again? Is he planning another calamity to befall us? She blinked hard, trying to squeeze the unsettling thoughts from her mind.

  Alec took another step towards Theo.

  Without looking back at him, Theo said, ‘Alec, a few days ago you were spared death. You must be wondering why. Ha, no doubt you’ll find out very soon.’ Theo whirled round. ‘I knew that you’d become a warrior band. You don’t even realize it yourself, but see how you can almost read one another’s minds? Sally has the chair ready. Alec and Beth plan to grab me. Then, when they force me into the chair, my dear sister will pour that elixir into my mouth.’ He grinned, but his face no longer seemed handsome. A monstrous quality distorted it. Whatever it was that the drug normally suppressed, it was beginning to surface. ‘Ladies and gentleman. You have become a pack of hunters.’

  Alec reached out to take Theo’s arm. The gaunt man flinched back so quickly that his back slammed against the door.

  ‘Don’t worry, my friends. I’ll drink the blessed potion.’ He struggled to maintain self-control. ‘Because if I didn’t take my medicine, the thought of what I will become terrifies me.’

  His movements were jerky rather than graceful now. Quickly, he sat at the table, took the glass from Eleanor; drank it down in one. By the time he placed the glass back on the table, the tremors had stopped in his limbs. His features relaxed. His air of relaxation even reached out into the room as a whole. The tension that had been building in the very fabric of the walls eased.

  ‘Theo,’ Eleanor murmured. ‘Go back upstairs. Why not read for a while?’

  Slowly, he lifted his eyes to hers, gave a sluggish nod, then stood up before climbing the stairs.

  Beth picked up the silver spoon that Eleanor had used to stir the powder into the water. Sally watched her actions with complete mystification.

  However, Eleanor knew perfectly well what she was doing. ‘That’s quick-witted of you, Beth. You’re testing the vampire theory by checking the spoon for my brother’s reflection.’

  ‘It’s distorted, but he does have a reflection.’

  ‘And according to the myth,’ Alec added, ‘vampires don’t reflect their image in a mirror.’

  ‘That’s what happens in stories,’ Eleanor agreed. ‘But the myth became scrambled through the centuries. Vampires are capable of being seen in mirrors, just the same as you and I. In truth, those creatures that are Vampiric avoid mirrors, because they can’t see themselves as they really are. Do you follow? When a vampire looks into a mirror, they delude themselves; they believe they see a beautiful, healthy man or woman. Not a loathsome creature, driven half mad by the desire to gorge on blood.’

  A
lec gazed very directly at Eleanor. ‘So you believe that Gustav is a vampire?’

  ‘The more accurate term is Vampiric.’

  ‘Is that a “yes”, then?’

  ‘Yes. I know he’s not human. But equally I know that neither a crucifix nor garlic will scare him. A stake through the heart does not kill them. Local legend has it that the Vampiric creatures of Whitby can only be destroyed in three ways: beheading, dismemberment or burning.’

  Beth sat down in the chair. ‘You intend to kill Gustav and his friends?’

  ‘I’ve evaded my responsibility for too long. I hoped that someone else would do it for me. But apart from the family in Leppington that supplies the Salts, and my brother, I’m the only one to know. Well, we and Victoria’s family, of course, and they keep their mouths shut with regard to that particular issue.’

  ‘Tell the police.’

  ‘And they will take me to an asylum. Who will give Victoria and Theo the Salts? Without daily doses, they will eventually transform.’

  ‘Something extraordinary has happened here, Eleanor,’ Beth told her. ‘But do you expect us to believe that monsters, with a taste for human blood, emerge from the cliffs every night to attack human beings?’

  Eleanor sighed. ‘What bit Sally? What did she see in the cellar last night?’

  Sally flinched. ‘You mean, I didn’t imagine that man beneath the grate?’

  ‘No, dear. You met Gustav.’

  ‘Then we’re in danger.’ Beth eyed the door; all of a sudden, it seemed a flimsy barrier to the yard and to whatever might prowl there.

  ‘Yes, you’re in grave danger.’ Eleanor’s expression was one of pained sadness. ‘Gustav returns to try and talk to me at least once a year. Mostly, he enters the tunnel that runs from the waterfront to the shaft beneath the iron grate. You see, he tried so very, very hard to stay human. Gustav was such a gentle boy. A lovely human being who wouldn’t hurt anyone, or even say anything bad about people. Even though he craves blood, he uses every shred of willpower to stop himself attacking people.’

  ‘But something happened?’

  ‘The war happened. Suddenly, fresh bodies were being washed up on the beach from torpedoed ships. Aircraft were shot down at night. Gustav and his friends were offered a tempting feast every time a ship sank offshore, or men tumbled out of the sky. The smell of blood stained the very air. If you’re as hungry as they are, how long would you resist if tempting food were put in front of you? And they did resist for a long time. But then . . .’ She shrugged. ‘They could resist no longer.’

  ‘But vampires, or even Vampiric beasts, Eleanor?’ Alec resisted the facts that had been lain out before him. ‘How can a sane individual believe?’

  Eleanor headed for the stairs. ‘Your doubt is understandable. That’s why I’m going to take you to the cave.’

  ‘Hag’s Lung?’ Sally trembled. ‘I’d be too afraid.’

  ‘You need proof. Firstly, I’ll check that Theo is settled for the night.’

  ‘Why should we need proof?’ Alec rubbed the patch over his eye. When he became anxious it was obviously irritating to him. ‘This isn’t our war.’

  ‘Is the fight against Hitler not your war, either? Would you prefer to make friends with him?’

  ‘That’s a vile suggestion.’

  ‘So, why can’t you help me fight the evil that comes to our very doors?’ Eleanor’s voice rose. ‘People are going missing in Whitby. Because of this war, the disappearances are covered up by the authorities. They don’t want to alarm the public. And because we are forced to keep the streets dark at night, Gustav and his kind are free to move around. The blackout is their playground. They can do what they like.’

  ‘So what’s it to be, Eleanor?’ Beth asked. ‘Beheading, dismemberment or fire?’

  ‘Something a little more scientific. But first we’ll visit the cave. I’ll show you the creatures trapped in the sump.’

  ‘If they’re still trapped,’ Sally added darkly.

  ‘Oh, they must still be locked away in there.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because if they weren’t, my dear, you would have become one of them by now. And I would have to kill you, too.’

  Four

  Tommy searched the streets of Whitby for his parents. Even though the town had yielded to absolute darkness, the boy saw every cottage, kennel, alleyway and tavern. The dog loped alongside. Sam’s short fur appeared to shine like black glass to the boy’s dark-adapted eye. A restlessness to find his family didn’t allow him to pause for long. He sensed they called to him. But where are they? They always seem just beyond my reach. Of course, Tommy had yet to understand that his parents had died decades ago. His little sister was now an old woman in a nursing home in Scarborough. In a yellowing, faded album, there were photographs of her, her mother and father, and Tommy, a cheerful boy of eleven, who had vanished one winter’s night in 1868.

  Sam sped alongside Tommy as they ran along Church Street to the market square. The clock’s hands touched eleven. No townsfolk ventured out into the darkness. Tommy had seen soldiers with rifles up on the cliffs. But he couldn’t understand why they needed to stand guard there. Any more than he could identify those black crosses that rumbled overhead after sunset. The word ‘aeroplane’ had no meaning for him. Tommy recalled his father would often visit the Black Horse Inn to drink a glass of that rich, amber beer while he discussed the day’s fishing with friends. His father never drank as much as the other men, preferring to return to his family before the children’s bedtime. Might his father have hurt himself on the way back from the inn? Maybe he lay in the street, waiting for Tommy to find him?

  Tommy entered the little cobbled area known as Market Place. Like the streets, it slumbered away the night hours in silence. The boy and his dog circled the peculiar stone building, which rested on pillars at the entrance to the yard, where stalls of vegetables and baked meats would be set out by day. He scoured the stone pavement, expecting to see the slumped figure of his father. All he found were discarded cigarette butts, matches, apple cores, shreds of newspaper – no sign of a man needing Tommy’s help to get safely home.

  Every so often, Sam would glance in the boy’s direction. The dog sensed the child’s anxiety. And from time to time he picked up on a yearning to find something precious that had become lost.

  As he crossed the square, Tommy cried out in excitement. A man stood with his back to him. Tommy wanted so desperately to find his dad that for a moment he recognized the figure as his broad-shouldered fisherman father. He knew that line of the jaw as the head began to turn. Already, he could imagine his father’s face breaking into a smile, when he saw his son running towards him.

  ‘Dad!’ Tommy ran faster, his arms held out for the warm hug his father always gave him when he returned to port.

  But the figure before him wasn’t his father. Sam stopped dead, his front legs splayed out, a snarl rolled in his throat.

  The man lunged at Tommy. A pair of viciously powerful hands gripped his arms. The face that loomed out of the shadows had the stark, white quality of bone. The eyes that burnt into Tommy’s were bereft of colour. The pupils were points of darkness.

  ‘A boy . . . A boy in a hurry . . .’ murmured a cold voice. The grin that followed revealed small, even teeth that looked strangely out of place in the mouth.

  Sam launched himself at the man. Before he could sink his fangs into the man’s leg another figure flew from the shadows. It gripped the dog by the throat.

  Tommy tried to kick free as the lady in the pale nightdress pulled the dog away. ‘Save some of the boy’s blood for me. You must!’ she hissed.

  ‘Try dog blood,’ the man uttered. ‘It might be sweeter than you think.’

  More figures flowed into square. One wore strange clothes: a helmet of leather and goggles that covered his eyes. Alongside him stood a man dressed in white. For some reason he wore a brightly striped tie around his waist in place of a belt.

  The
man holding Tommy chuckled. ‘Just a sip each from this.’

  The man in white approached, his keen eyes studying Tommy’s face. ‘He’s not mortal. You won’t find an ounce of blood in his veins.’

  ‘But he’s not one of us,’ said the man holding Tommy. ‘I’d have known.’

  The white-clad man shook his head. ‘He’s older than us. Much older. Maybe he’s beyond bloodlust now, or maybe his transformation is different to ours.’

  Tommy’s captor tugged the boy’s wrist towards his face. ‘He bears the same scars as we do, Gustav.’

  ‘Nevertheless, he’s not the same. Not quite.’

  ‘But he must be. Everyone who is bitten by our kind transforms,’ said the woman in the white, as she gripped the dog’s neck. Sam still struggled, trying to get his teeth into her hands, his eyes rolling in fury.

  ‘Eleanor didn’t.’ Gustav took the boy’s chin in his hand and raised it so that he could study his face. ‘Eleanor received the gift the same night as me, but she never transformed. The gods must have another use for her.’ He smiled. ‘As I was fond of saying, “Tiw strikes again.”’

  The captor relaxed his grip on Tommy. ‘Then he’s no use to us.’

  ‘Keep hold,’ the woman hissed. ‘If he’s not the same as us, he’ll become a danger.’

  ‘Just a child,’ Gustav declared. ‘Doesn’t he wear such a sad expression? He’s a lost boy.’

  ‘Destroy him.’ The woman exerted a crushing grip on the dog’s neck. ‘Rip him to pieces.’

  ‘How could this little scrap of a thing harm us?’ Gustav released his hold on Tommy’s jaw. ‘He’s just skin and bone.’

  ‘Don’t underestimate him.’ The woman had spite in her eye. ‘What if he leads them to where we sleep?’

  ‘Look at the style of his clothes. He must have been roaming Whitby for sixty years or more. In all that time he can’t have touched a human being, let alone caused any harm.’

  ‘Did you hear that, boy?’ The inhuman eyes of the woman burnt in the darkness. ‘You left your mortal self behind over half a century ago. Your mother and father will be long dead. There’s nothing for you here now. Just ask us to end your misery, and we’ll do it.’