CHAPTER 1
Another
“She’s been proper’ killed.”
Alius eased past the grieving Husband to begin his inspection of the village's latest victim. He turned her pallid face with two fingers and nodded. “The biter—” A blinding light filled his vision and he waved his hand. “Close the bloody curtains, Jarrod.”
“S-sorry, sir.”
Alius continued his investigation by circling the bed and lifting limbs; it all seemed scientific to the two onlookers.
“What is all this?” Snapped her husband after a solid ten minutes of this odd posturing by Alius. “Are you able to seek out this wretch and bring me vengeance?”
Alius dropped the limp hand of the corpse and raised his chin with a mournful breath. “Vengeance. Indeed.”
“Indeed what? This is the third under your watch.”
“Come now, Mr Potter, Captain Alius is doing his best.”
“He cannot even protect his own wife!”
Alius’ eyebrows forced his scalp up yet he stayed his tongue. His eyes were wide and maddened for a flicker of a candle flame before they calmed.
Mr Potter bowed his head. “I am sorry…it’s just Esmerelda–”
“I know, I know, it’s ok Mr Potter…” Jarrod placed an arm around the widower and led him out, mumbling quietly about making a pot of tea.
Alius found himself alone with the cadaver.
Her beauty was fading fast in death. Icy blue veins crawled up her cheeks, her hair had whitened and once ruby lips shrivelled. This was a woman Alius once coveted. A pang of guilt shot up his spine.
Alius leaned in to take the scent of the blood-stained pillow and whispered: “A loathsome death, one which I would not wish upon anyone.” He stood straight, strode meaningfully to the door and locked it. “I shan’t be gentle,” Alius spoke to the door with his forehead pressed to it.
With a flurry, he spun and thrust the mouth of his leather bag apart to retrieve his tools. Four hide bindings to tie the corpse down, with legs and arms taut and spreadeagled, his Bible, a hammer and a wooden stake.
Rapping at the door disturbed Alius as he tied up the woman’s remains. “Alius, open the door, what are you doing in there?”
“You mustn’t disturb me, this is important work!” Alius opened his Bible and began to pray.
“Let me in!” The wrapping became short thuds.
“Jarrod, restrain Mr Potter!” Alius’ voice boomed.
A great smashing and crashing could be heard from outside the room as the two men tussled. Alius watched the door for a moment until all was silent. Satisfied, he began to recite a passage from the Bible: “There is a generation, whose teeth are as swords, and their jaw teeth as knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, and the needy from among men.” Alius brought the stake up. “You shall trouble no one with this coming greed.”
The door began to thud once more. Mr Potter’s guttural cry whisked about the cottage but it did not stay Alius.
“I will free you!” He pressed the tip of the stake to her chest and brought down his hammer to drive the splinter into her heart.
The hinges of the door gave way and a bloodied Mr Potter stumbled through. “Son of a goat!” His bellow was followed by a charge that caught Alius by the waist, slamming his back into the wall.
“Come now, Mr Potter,” Alius spoke through gritted teeth as he held the enraged man’s head down. “Easy, I have freed her.”
Mr Potter broke away and straightened to toss his fists haphazardly at Alius’ face, catching him with a smacking blow. “Swine!”
Alius ducked under and away from the exhausted assailant with a smooth dip of his head. He picked up his bag and headed for the door. He caught himself by the frame and turned to glance at Mr. Potter who had both hands against the wall, sucking in breath. “I will find the man who did this, that is a promise.”
Mr Potter looked back at his wife’s desecrated corpse. Her hands and feet were bound with a stake buried deep into her chest. “And what of this?”
Alius looked over his work. “Precautions.”
“The creatures you speak of live only in your head, the only madman in this village is you…did you kill your wife?”
Alius blinked. “No.”
“You will pay for this.”
“You will see I am right.”
“Get out.”
Alius bowed his head and left for the door. On his way out, he scooped up Jarrod, who had come off the worst from his struggle with Mr Potter.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Not a problem.” Alius looked over the kitchen where the two men had scrapped. The plate dresser had been rocked and the stone floor was littered with ceramic shards.
He strained to bring the plump Jarrod to his feet. Alius was a tall, slender man, not apt at heavy-duty work. Since the death of his wife, he had lost much of his weight. His face was gaunt and tired and he rarely left the confines of his weathered home.
The early morning sun threatened to burn through Alius’ translucent eyelids as he stepped out into the cool morning air. The commotion had brought about a gathering of villagers. Their grey faces were stricken with great sadness for they knew what a visit from Captain Alius meant.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Alius and Jarrod ignored the onlookers and made a hasty retreat towards the captain's stead. Jarrod held a dirty, blood-stained handkerchief to his mouth and coughed. “They are beginning to lose faith in us, Alius.”
“Faith is the first thing a weak and frightened man loses in the face of evil, Jarrod.” He grunted and pushed Jarrod onwards to kickstart the motion in his pudgy legs. “Onward now.”
They scurried down the side of the smithy and up towards the house. The sun was blocked by the overgrown forest that surrounded his grounds. His spacious front garden was completely unkempt and his house was much the same.
They barged into the house and Alius locked the bolts of the old wooden door.
“Shall I put the kettle on?” Jarrod cocked his head.
“You may for yourself, I’m not in any sort of mood for tea.” Alius was peering out from the curtain. The gathering had found its way to the foot of his garden. Mr Potter had rallied to the front and was pointing with conviction at his battered home.
“Jarrod.”
“Yes, sir?” Jarrod called from the kitchen.
“You believe me, yes?”
Jarrod popped his head around the frame, kettle in one hand and a spoon in the other. “Believe you how, sir?”
“Everything, these creatures.”
Jarrod paused. “Yes, no doubt, why would you tell me such lies? Iffin you hadda killed Sarah, then you’d be long gone, yes?”
“Is that how you have come to such a conclusion?” Alius raised his eyebrow as he turned to look at his portly associate.
“Well, no…but, it’s a great line of reasonin’ and that’s my job isn’t it?”
“I take your point.” Alius pushed himself from the window and went for his study.
“Say, Alius, sir?”
“Yes?”
“You’re out of food, shall I fetch you some?”
“No, I’ll eat when I deserve to.”
“You’re not lookin’ well is all, kind of off…you need to eat.”
Alius frowned as he poured over his notes. “Enough, Jarrod, you are not my mother.”
“I know, sir. Though leaving your house might be a little awkward.”
“I am not perturbed by social awkwardness.”
“Well, I fear it may escalate…”
“There are far more fearsome ills that brew in this village, if they lynch me they’ll seal their fate.”
“You are not scared of being killed?” Jarrod had moved from the kitchen and was standing in the doorway of Alius’ study. It was dominated by an ornate desk that was cluttered with stacks of paper and dusty tomes. The large bay window behind the desk had been boarded up.
Alius looked back. “I have seen death, it doesn’t scare me.”
“Still not got that window fixed, eh?” Jarrod smirked, trying to ease the morbid tension.
Alius went back to his papers.
The whistle of the kettle sent Jarrod skittering away in a panic and he went to pour the tea. He inspected the bare cupboard with concern as he searched for the honey and succumbed to a bitter brew. He returned to the study to rejoin the focused Alius. “Have you slept?”
“I can sleep when I’m dead, which won’t be far from now if your predictions are to be considered.”
“I wasn’t predicting…” He sipped his tea and grimaced, missing the sweetness he was accustomed to.
Alius prodded his finger on a piece of paper. “I have a new message for the people.”
“More instructions?” Jarrod sipped more tea, trying to get used to the honeyless brew.
“Have them scatter wheat grains about their chamber floor and outside their front doors.”
Jarrod approached, “These texts make mention of such a deterrent.”
“Indeed!” Said Alius. His voice was strained and riddled with fanatic excitement. “Right, and how would this stop a murderer, ah I mean vampire?”
“They love to count!”
“Count?”
“One, two, three…”
Jarrod set his tea down and laced his thick fingers before him. “I am aware of such, it’s just, I don’t get it.”
“The vampire will count the wheat grain and be delayed in such a manner that the sun will set upon him before he has finished!” He slammed his book shut. “We have him!”
“Where did you get these tomes from, Captain?” Jarrod lifted the heavy leather bindings of the book Alius had been citing, only for it to be slammed shut once more.
“It matters not, everything I have learned from these books is true.”
“How do you know?”
“I have…faith.”
“Faith is lost on the people, I will tell them, they may not follow the instruction.”
Alius nodded ferociously as if expecting such a line of intrigue. “Those who do not will find their homes visited by the beast and my proof will be undeniable.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Go, address the rabble, let the faithless be punished.”
Jarrod bowed his head and anxiously made for the door. Tentatively he approached the angered mass of villagers. He nodded at Mr. Potter and mouthed a polite good morning.
“Sent you out, has he?” Mr. Potter folded his arms.
“He has a new instruction.”
Jimethy the fisher spat over the fence at Jarrod. “Take a piss with it, he’s just making it all up!”
“Aye! Last week he told us to formally uninvite everyone to our house, look what happened!”
Jarrod raised his arms and attempted to ease the small crowd. “Now, now…the formal uninvited were our Captains best guess, he said himself it may not work, but he is damned sure this will keep us safe.”
The crowd quietened. They were interested more in the madness they perceived than the promise of safety from the village menace.
Jarrod cleared his throat. “Toss wheat grains about your door step, back and front and around your bed chamber floor.”
The group stared at him and burst into cacophony and fury and curses.
Alius watched through the curtains as Jarrod struggled to give the instructions. “Fools, they should trust me.” He headed towards the pantry door which had been locked since his wife died. Jarrod had been scolded on numerous occasions for attempting to gain entry when in search of food. He spoke to the door softly. “I will free you soon, my love.” He placed his ear against the door and waited. A scratch, a low moan. No words. Then a clattering shatter. Another window had been broken, not by children with a pig-skin ball this time, but instead by angry villagers with stones.
Alius’ silhouette filled the window as more rocks and jeers were tossed towards him. “If you seek safety, follow my commandments!” he raised his arms like a mad prophet.
Jarrod had dashed away, leaving Alius to fend off the approaching mob.
“I reckon once you’re gone, the murderer will be too!” The accusation was followed by yea’s of agreements as they closed in.
A rock struck Alius on the temple and knocked him over. “Got him!”
Jarrod ran out in between the group and held out a flintlock pistol. “Back off now, he is your captain and this village will maintain order!”
“You think you can stop us all?”
“No, but I can stop at least one of you, dead. Now…who wants to take the first step and this ball?”
The mob retreated within itself and then backed away. “You can’t keep him safe all the time, Jarrod.” Mr Potter called.
“He is trying to keep you safe.”
“He’s a madman, and so are you for following him!”
“Place the wheat grain as instructed.” Jarrod thrust the pistol toward Mr. Potter.
“Waste of good grain!”
“Then sleep at risk.”
The mob dispersed and slunk away.
Jarrod retreated into the house to help Alius. “Are you well, Captain?”
“I am fine, this village, however…is being taken by a sickness I cannot mend.”