Alptraum

Kapitel 8

Hans Luther and I were both stunned. We quickly helped him take the painting down and put it on the ground. He removed all the wooden blocks blocking the hole and then reached into the hole and pulled out a square wooden box about the size of a fist.

We placed the box on the table, blew away the dust, and immediately saw two intertwined lilies appear on the surface of the lid!

“My God!” I cried, “This is exactly the same as what we saw in that coffin in the cemetery!”

“That’s right, Mr. Green,” the priest laughed. “They are exactly the same, like twins.”

"Could this be the lily emblem that my aunt asked us to find in her will?" I said hesitantly. "I think this should be it, right?"

“Absolutely!” the priest said confidently. He carefully lifted the lid, and we all watched intently as something tightly wrapped in oilcloth was revealed. The priest slowly peeled back the oilcloth, revealing a dark brown, preserved heart.

I almost cried out, Hans. Mr. Luther looked equally horrified. Who could have imagined that something so terrifying was inside?

Looking at the shrunken organ, I was almost certain it was a human heart. But why was it placed behind that painting? And whose heart did it belong to?

The priest, however, couldn't hide his excitement; his expression told me he was planning something. "We have hope," he said, rewrapping the heart. "The tarpaulin is still fresh, proving the heart wasn't recently treated. Now is the best opportunity to completely resolve this crisis. Mr. Luther, you can go downstairs and let everyone know what we've found here at the 'appropriate' time. Then Mr. Green and I will stay in the room, and we should be able to catch the big bat around midnight."

Hans Luther nodded solemnly, while leaving his hunting rifle to us: "It would be too dangerous if it were just the two of you. If possible, I would also like to play a role."

“Your role is very important, which is to ensure the safety of others,” the priest said in a gentle but firm tone. “Mr. Luther, if you can do this, it will be the greatest help to us. You must keep your gun with you so that you can protect yourself at any time.”

The butler hesitated for a moment, then nodded and left my room.

At that moment, the priest hung the painting back on the wall and then told me to go to bed.

"What?" I could hardly believe my ears. Shouldn't he tell me what to do next? "But Father..." I asked, "You said you have something important to do tonight, shouldn't we make some preparations?"

“All you need to do is hold your pistol tight.” He smiled at me. “Until then, it’s all my job.”

I was a little puzzled, but he didn't explain it to me anymore. He just placed the wooden box containing the heart on the fireplace under the portrait, then picked up the cross on his chest with one hand and placed the other hand on the box, muttering something to himself.

He closed his eyes, his expression solemn and serene, as if standing beneath the main altar of a church. I had never seen him like this before; it was completely different from his usual gentle demeanor, as if an invisible distance had been created between us. I dared not disturb him, silently standing by the bed, wiping my gun, until his prayer ended.

"What are you reciting?" I asked curiously, "If you could tell me..."

“Oh, just some requiem prayers.” He smiled. “Hopefully, those ghosts who linger in the mortal world will find some solace.”

Hearing such words normally might not have bothered me, but now I could only manage an awkward smile, a chill running down my spine.

The priest dimmed the gaslight and then lay down on the sofa by the fireplace. "Go to sleep," he said, "just don't sleep too soundly..."

If someone who has lived in an ordinary world for nearly thirty years were to encounter murder, vampires, and ghosts in a single week, they might doubt whether they were dreaming or completely trapped in a novel. If they could still sleep peacefully at that moment, they would probably have nerves of steel.

Therefore, I couldn't fall asleep at all. Lying on the soft bed, my eyes were fixed on the small wooden trunk at the head of the bed, where the first mate lay quietly. From the other side of the room came the priest's even breathing. I didn't know if he was asleep, because either way was possible. This man was definitely the least clerical priest I had ever met: from the first glance at his striking appearance, I felt something was different about him; he could pick locks with a wire, a thief's specialty; his composure in the face of supernatural beings made me wonder if he had encountered such things frequently before; he seemed gentle and polite, but when truly in danger, he possessed absolute decisiveness and showed no mercy—we had all unknowingly come to trust him the most; when he blew Mrs. Austin's neck off with a single shot, he had enough calmness to aim properly…

Father Arsen. Gada, he's a truly enigmatic man.

I lay in bed, lost in thought, unable to fall asleep even with my eyes closed until midnight. Just as the pocket watch beside me ticked incessantly, a faint creak from the door made all my muscles tense instantly. I quietly opened my eyes, and in the tiny, firefly-sized light, as expected, I saw the gleaming handle on the door slowly moving, and then… the door opened, and a dark figure silently entered.

My heart was pounding, and I didn't dare move an inch. I half-closed my eyes, pretending to be fast asleep, but my hand under the covers was tightly gripping the gun handle. The priest's even breathing was particularly clear in the quiet environment, and I really didn't know if he was acting or if he simply didn't notice.

The dark figure slowly approached the portrait. The hazy moonlight streaming in from the window revealed his cloaked body, his tall frame somewhat resembling the vampire we'd first encountered. My palms were sweating, but he didn't look at me; his attention seemed completely absorbed by the painting above the fireplace. After a long while, he reached out, as if to pick up the wooden box. Just as his hand touched the box, a hissing sound rang out, followed by a plume of smoke!

Almost simultaneously, the priest leaped up and pounced on the dark figure, shouting, "Don't move!"

The dark figure froze for only half a second, then let out a low growl. I saw it extend its sharp claws and throw the person off it!

"priest!"

I drew my gun and fired at the shadowy figure, but missed. This seemed to enrage it; its wings suddenly spread out, and then everything went black as it charged at me, slamming me to the ground. A sharp pain shot through my neck. Just when I thought I was going to die, blood-stained teeth suddenly detached from my skin, and the shadowy figure clutched its back, letting out a painful cry. I quickly used my elbows to brace myself and backed away from beneath it, only then seeing the priest insert something into its back.

The priest grabbed me and pulled me up, picked up the cross hanging around his neck, and said sternly, "Don't move, monster! In the name of God!"

His clear voice chanted the name of the Lord in a stern tone. Under the threat of the cross, the dark figure could only crawl on the ground. The wound on its back seemed to be in great pain, and it kept twisting its body.

I quickly switched on the gas lamp, and when I turned around, I almost cried out:

The monster raised its head, revealing Mr. Austin's face!

However, at this moment, the skin on his face was almost ashen, and his pupils were as red as Mrs. Austen's. His once brilliant blond hair had turned as black as graphite, and his sharp teeth were still stained with the blood from my neck. The clothes on his back were torn apart by a pair of huge fleshy wings, and a silver candlestick was stuck between the two wings, with dark red blood flowing continuously from the wound.

I stared at him, speechless, feeling somewhat at a loss.

He struggled for a long time, finally collapsing to the ground, panting heavily. I could see he was no longer able to resist, so I could only barely prop myself up against the bedside.

“What a blunder…” A smile actually appeared on his terrifying face. “Actually… I… I should have… killed you all first as soon as I came in.”

(15. The Truth)

16:04:28

Having already experienced the adventure of watching a familiar person turn into a monster once before, I found myself feeling more shock than fear. I took out a handkerchief and covered the wound on my neck, while keeping my other hand pointed at the "person" sprawled on the ground.

“Don’t be so tense… Mr. Green…” The mutated man smiled at me, “I have no strength left…”

I think he was telling the truth, because his wings were trembling because of his weakness.

The priest gave me a wink, and I stepped back slightly. He knelt before Mr. Austin, still holding the crucifix, who couldn't help but cover his face as he approached.

“Although I had a vague idea, I was still quite shocked to see it for myself, Mr. Austin,” the priest said slowly. “I never imagined you were a vampire.”

"Of course it's me," the captured "person" said nonchalantly. "Who else did you think it was? It was me from the very beginning..."

"Then, what about Mrs. Austin? She was clearly also..." I couldn't help but ask.

"Ah, she is my lovely doll, I made her drink my blood... a marionette, do you understand?" His sharp fingers moved deftly.

"So you were the one who killed from the very beginning?"

Mr. Austin did not deny it; he nodded. “That maid—Alice—I had her as a midnight treat, but she wasn’t very good.”

"So the monster that first attacked Miss Bupalmer and Mrs. Austin was also you, wasn't it?"

“That’s right.” He said decisively. “And it was I who, before going to the cemetery, had Martha clear out the people left in the manor while everyone else was out. Anyway… she was hungry. She hadn’t had a drop of blood for two whole days, so she needed to eat something… otherwise she would spoil.”

I simply couldn't believe it: "So, you planned to kill us from the very beginning..."

He looked at me with his red eyes and didn't answer, but I knew the answer was yes.

"Why?" I cried out!

“Mr. Green,” the priest grasped my hand, “please calm down.” He turned to Mr. Austin and said, “The answer isn’t complicated. Is it for her?” The priest gestured with his chin in that direction, and following his finger, I saw the beautiful portrait of the young girl on the wall once more—“It’s for your lover, Master Radley.”

What did he just say?

As I was still trying to recall where I'd heard that familiar name before, Mr. Austin suddenly looked up, his previously relaxed expression instantly turning into a ferocious grimace, making me think he was about to pounce again. He glared at the priest with venomous eyes and spat out a sentence through gritted teeth: "You...know me?"

Ah! Good heavens! I remember now, that's the name of the young man who died at the hands of vampires fifty years ago! My aunt's former fiancé!

Could it be that the Mr. Austin before us is Hans Luther, the man who was long dead?

How is that possible!

The priest, seeing my wide, staring eyes, suddenly chuckled. He stood up, picked up the wooden box from the fireplace, and returned to his seat. During this time, I gripped my gun, watching Mr. Austin warily, wary of his actions, but he seemed to have no intention of attacking; he was simply staring intently at what the priest was holding.

When the priest placed the wooden box on the ground, he gazed at the lilies on the lid, his eyes filled with sorrow. But as soon as he tried to touch the pattern, a patch of skin on his finger immediately burned, hissing and emitting blue smoke. He instantly became extremely angry.

“You did it!” he yelled at the priest. “You blessed it!”

“Yes,” the priest replied calmly. “It is I. I offer prayers for your beloved’s soul. Is that not good? But unfortunately, Mr. Larry, you cannot touch Mrs. Brooks’ heart.”

"You're saying this heart belongs to my aunt!" I asked incredulously. "She... left her heart in this room..."

“That’s exactly right,” the priest told me. “Now I think I can basically figure out the whole story, Mr. Green. Your aunt—that is, Mrs. Lily Brooks—did not bury her whole body after she died; her body was buried in the churchyard, but her heart remained at the manor. The real purpose of her will was that one of you, to be precise, Mr. Austin, would find her heart. So from the very beginning, you had no chance of survival when you came to this manor; she had already considered you as a meal to be offered to this gentleman.”

"how so?"

“Of course that’s how it is. Because young master Radley, who was attacked by vampires back then, didn’t die—no, you could say he died, he died as a human, while Radley as a vampire was born. However, he still retains his human memories and still loves his fiancée, Miss Lily, so he has been living in the abandoned church cemetery and staying near this manor, right, sir?”

The injured "person" lowered his head and did not answer.

The priest ignored his evasiveness: "It seems Miss Lily still loves you. She lived in the manor until her death, and even left behind a heart. She was waiting for you..."

"Why leave the heart behind?" I didn't quite understand; what kind of "waiting" was this?

The priest glanced at me and said, “With part of your body buried inside the church and part outside, this unblessed soul cannot ascend to heaven; it can only linger on earth as a ghost.”

My face turned pale: "Could it be that the person spying on me outside my window that night was...?"

“It’s Mrs. Brooks,” the priest continued. “She’s been loitering around here, perhaps ever since you approached Flores Manor.”

I recalled the white shadow I vaguely saw on the carriage on the way here. It flashed by, and I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me!

"Humans have immortal souls, while vampires have immortal bodies. Young Master Radley, as long as you get Mrs. Brooks' heart, and as long as you don't get caught by the exorcist priest, you can be together forever, right?"

Mr. Austin raised his head, and I noticed that his sharp fangs were now hidden in his lips, and the bloodshot in his eyes had faded. Even more strangely, the shape of his face seemed to have changed, quite different from his original strikingly handsome appearance. Now he was more suited to be described as "delicate"—was this his original appearance?

“You are absolutely right, Father,” he replied calmly. “We made a pact that after she died, I would come and take her away. She would not go to heaven or hell, but stay by my side, and I waited for that for fifty years. (Note: The souls of those who commit suicide go to hell, so one should not commit suicide.) I hid in the cemetery on the other side of the swamp, and to conceal myself, I caught birds, field mice, snakes, and bats to eat. Every time I looked at Florence in the distance, I believed that one day I would see her again.”

"Why can't you just meet up directly?" I asked, somewhat puzzled. "This is just too painful for you..."

He snorted and glanced sideways at the two intertwined lilies: "We have to thank that kind Roman priest. He told my father that because I bit the vampire's arm in self-defense when I was attacked, and I drank its blood, I might become a vampire myself. So he placed a seal on me. Didn't you see the two identical lily patterns in the coffin? That's the original form of the seal. It keeps me away from the manor and away from humans until someone is willing to transfer the seal to themselves."

The priest stroked the lilies on the lid with his fingers: "Did Mrs. Brooks do that?"

"Yes, she did it before she died. When I felt the weight no longer on my heart, I knew she was dead, so I rushed to London. There I found my niece Martha, a very vain girl who became my doll. I used my own blood to transform her into a half-human, half-vampire, so that by relying on her body with black magic, I could temporarily shield myself from the sunlight. I came to the manor as one of the heirs in the will, and then I found Alice."

The priest interjected, "Could it be that she was the one commissioned by Mrs. Brooks to remove the heart?"

“Yes,” Young Master Radley replied. “I tentatively asked her if the lady had asked her to give me something on her deathbed, and she immediately understood that Lily’s heart was for me. But she was too greedy. She told me I had to pay her seven thousand pounds, or she would destroy the heart and tell the church I was practicing witchcraft. I was very angry, extremely angry…”

"So you killed her!"

“Yes,” he blinked, “I have a bad temper, after all, I’ve been in the swamp for too long, and I don’t have much patience. Lily probably thought of this too, so she left the manor as bait in her will, so that if the maid doesn’t hand over the heart, she can still have everyone do their best to find it.”

"Is that why the will vaguely mentions the 'lily emblem' without specifying anything concrete?"

"Won't people be suspicious if we say it's the heart?"

I shouted impatiently, "Then why are you killing us one by one? We have nothing to do with you!"

"Nothing to do with it?" His expression turned vicious again. "The reason I've become like this is all because of you—the honor of your entire family!"

The man coughed violently, black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His gaze fell on the wooden box on the ground, and he managed to regain some composure: "I thought I was happy. I had a wealthy family and a loving fiancée. If it weren't for the vampire attack, I might have lived a normal life as a country gentleman. But that night, everything changed. I was bitten by a vampire, and its dead blood flowed down my throat. My father said, 'The Brooks family are all devout Christians; there can be no heretics or monsters.' He tied me up, put me in a coffin, and buried me, completely disregarding whether I was still alive! If it weren't for Lily's intervention that day..." They dug up my grave at night, and they'll probably never know I still exist. My brother, when the vampires attacked me, cowardly hid in his room; he used every means to pursue my fiancée, both before and after my death, even going so far as to drive Lily's husband to suicide so she could marry Flores. A mocking smile appeared on his face. "It's so pointless, only realizing how awful the environment you lived in after death… I feel there's absolutely no need for such a family to leave any descendants in this world. 'Vengeance is mine, and I will repay!'"

He burst into laughter, which made my forehead throb.

The priest patted my shoulder reassuringly, then said to Radley, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm a variable that none of you expected."

His laughter stopped, and he nodded honestly. "Yes, if you hadn't appeared, Father, I would have sown suspicion among them, and then killed them all after finding the heart. But you appeared, and you seemed very interested in finding out the truth. I was worried I wouldn't last long. The attack on Martha that night was to create panic, and leaving Miss Palmer behind was to make you suspect her. The fact that I didn't make you shoot her the moment you saw her proves I didn't do enough. I actually really wanted to see a scene of the 'witch' being burned at the stake..."

He looked regretful, and I felt inexplicably sad for him.

"When did you start to doubt me, Father?" Radley asked the clergyman for the first time. "I want to know where I didn't act well enough."

“Actually, you played your role very well,” the priest said generously. “What really made me feel uneasy was the first night. Your room was closest to Miss Palmer's, yet you were the last to arrive. As a husband who cares about his wife, that’s not normal. The vampire had already disappeared by then. Since it was masked, it’s very likely that it’s someone we know. What do you think I would think in that situation?”

"That's the reason?"