I did not bother to answer him. Henriette was stirring fitfully on the ground. Her eyes were closed, and her face looked pale in the dim moonlight.
“It is too late for her,” the vampyre told me. “Because of her beauty, we chose not to drain her of all her blood, but to instead make her one of us.”
I tried desperately to wake Henriette from whatever disturbed dream she was engaged in. The vampyre laughed at this, as did several of his companions. Henriette opened her eyes. When I saw the deadness in them, I knew she was lost to me. She made a horrible guttural noise, and sprang forward to attack me, but was still too weak and her attack was feeble. Her eyes closed and she collapsed back to the ground.
“This is unfair,” I cried. “I was supposed to rescue her. She was supposed to live a good life in Venice. This is unfair!”
“Much is unfair,” the vampyre said, amused.
The pain that seized my heart was as horrible as the guttural noise that had escaped from Henriette’s lips. I tilted my head toward the pale moon and bellowed my agony at it. The other vampyres laughed at this. I sprung to my feet and turned to them in a murderous rage.
“I should kill you all,” I swore.
“You could try,” the lead vampyre said, his eyes darkening to the color of coal as he smiled at me. “You are of greater size, and most likely greater strength. But we have strength also, and a quickness that would most likely surprise you. Also there are five of us, soon to be six. But if you are successful and are able to kill us all, who would tend to your companion? Unless of course you wish to kill her also. If you do, now would be the easiest time as she is still very weak and in another hour she will be like us. All you would need to do is thrust your fist into her chest and rip out her heart. If you wish to do so none of us will stop you, although it would be a shame. I am so looking forward to ravaging her body once she has fully become one of us.”
He had said this as a jest to mock me, but I realized this was the only way that I could save Henriette. If I left her, she would become a detestable night creature like these others. In life she was pure and innocent, and I could not leave her to become something vile. With my heart as heavy as stone I dropped beside her. Before any of the other vampyres could react, I struck my fist into her chest. A gasp came from her, but as I ripped out her heart, a peacefulness settled over her features.
“You are a fool,” the vampyre hissed at me.
“Leave me or attack me,” I demanded as I spun around to face them with Henriette’s heart still clutched in my fist. Their leader stood relaxed while the other vampyres continued to circle me, moving like shadows as they did. At last their leader spat on the ground with contempt. “It would not be worth the effort,” he said. “We would most likely choke on your blood.” With that he turned and ran off with the other vampyres following him.
I dug a grave for Henriette and placed her body within it. After that I fashioned a marker for her grave out of loose stones.
I knelt by her grave and prayed for her forgiveness.
CHAPTER
14
I grieved by Henriette’s grave over the next four days. The vampyres did not return, and I was left undisturbed.
When she was alive, Henriette had been an anchor holding me to the promise of being something better than I was. During our brief time together not only did I find myself enjoying her companionship and good cheer, but thoughts of bringing her safely to Venice had occupied my mind and kept my obsession for vengeance at bay. Henriette had made me feel human again. When I was with her I would frequently forget about my hideous appearance and often envision myself as Friedrich Hoffmann. But I had failed her, just as I had my dearest Johanna. Now that Henriette was gone, I was once again consumed by my desire for vengeance toward Victor Frankenstein, and once again felt that terrible pull on me to travel southwards.
I could no longer think of myself as something human, but only as an abomination. It was my actions that created the environment that allowed Henriette to be accused as a witch, and I was the one who led her to a nest of vampyres. I should have recognized those wolves for what they were. I should have known they were a different kind of creature from those that had attacked me earlier. How could I have failed to keep watch over Henriette after that? Although it was never my intention, I was the reason for her damnation, and perhaps also Johanna’s. If Frankenstein was responsible for Johanna’s murder as I suspected, would it have happened if not for me?
When I left Henriette’s grave, I surrendered myself to the urge that was pulling me south. I thought of what that vampyre had told me. How we both served the same master. Perhaps he was right. When I recounted all the evil that I had been responsible for since my transformation—from my noxious skulking through the homes of innocent men and women, to the fear that I created and saw so brightly in that young girl’s eyes, and finally, Henriette’s horrible fate—perhaps I had been serving the Devil without realizing it, and the goodness that I had earlier believed I still held from Friedrich Hoffmann was only illusionary. But I did not feel any of that goodness anymore. All I felt now was wretchedness.
I traveled aimlessly, letting that urge pull me where it wanted. When I came across a waterfall that would have delighted me when I was Friedrich Hoffmann, I felt nothing. Same with the other sights and sounds of nature. Colorful birds, wildflowers, ancient trees—no longer did any of these sights affect me. All I could feel was an ever-growing thirst for vengeance, and the overwhelming need to locate Victor Frankenstein.
One evening while dusk was approaching, I came across a satanic mass. The mass was being held in a clearing by a large rock that had a curious shape similar to that of a human head. Two trees grew on the top of this rock, appearing as if they were horns. I watched as several dozen figures hidden in black robes called out for Satan to join them, then as a goat was brought out and fed consecrated wafers.
A young girl was next carried out by several of their members. They held her down and stripped her of her clothing so that she lay struggling naked among them. When one of these black-robed figures showed a large curving knife to the sky, I realized that they were planning to sacrifice this girl, and I stepped out from my hiding place and ordered them to release her. I had my own hood off my face so that they could fully see me and fear me. They turned toward me, surprised by my presence, and then they fell to the ground kneeling in supplication. The one who had held the knife spoke.
“Oh Dark Lord, you have come as we have begged you to.” He dared to look up at me, his face hidden under his black robe so that all I could see were his eyes shining with a mix of fear and delight. “We are your most humble servants. Once hearing how you have been traveling the country, we assembled here from a great distance to bring you forward so that we may serve you.”
I said nothing as I took in this peculiar scene. So I was to be confused by them as Satan. Fine. I did not much care. Even with the hood covering his face, I could see this man who had addressed me lick his lips.
“We brought a virgin for you,” he said, his voice trembling with nervousness. “We were about to sacrifice her for you. Would you like us to go through with the act? Or perhaps you would rather enjoy her first?”
The young girl could not have been much older than fourteen. She was so thin, just a wisp of a child, her legs and arms like broomsticks. Although they had released her as I demanded, she lay on the ground too terrified to move “Where did you take her from?” I asked.