QQ perdido

Capítulo 12

The boy watched the woman walk lightly and swiftly towards Xiling Manor, disappearing from his sight. He murmured to himself, "Wow...what a beautiful woman, she is..."

But a moment later, the boy looked back in the direction the ghost had appeared and saw a pair of feet, not much bigger than his own, sticking out of the bushes, motionless.

Reality was more important. He approached the clearly lifeless victim and began to remove the shoes from the small feet, thinking of his own desperate need for shoes. Just as he did so, the owner of the shoes stirred, sat up, and let out a weak cry—he was also a boy, perhaps a little smaller than the homeless child. His skin had lost all color, and he looked utterly lost.

On his neck were two small, fresh wounds, each with a drop of blood clotted on it.

Later that day, after seeing the newspaper report of this strange event, Hausin was shocked and cursed a few times in German. Jack heard him whisper, "So fast! So fast!"

Jack took the newspaper and read aloud: Westminster Herald, September 25th. Recent news on the mystery of Mount Hangsdale indicates that another child who went missing last night was found this morning on Soutt Hill in the broom bushes. The boy also had small wounds on his neck, similar to those of other victims. He was very weak and had no energy. When he was a little more lucid, his account was the same as other missing children: he had been lured away by a "beautiful lady."

Less than an hour later, the elderly professor, accompanied by Jack Schwartz, arrived at the charity ward of Beilin Hospital. After identifying themselves to the attending physician, the two doctors were led to the bedside of a young child who had recently been admitted.

Howin first took out a piece of candy. Then he quickly unwrapped the bandage, looked at the wound on the child's neck, and let Jack see it clearly as well.

The old professor then wrapped the bandage back up and sat back down in his chair. “Now, child—I need your help. Dr. Vincent told me he thinks some kind of animal bit you. Was it a rat? Or a bat?”

The boy shook his head. "She's a beautiful lady."

"You said she's a very beautiful woman, right?"

nod.

"Very well, so, is this woman's hair—gray? Or black?"

The little boy shook his head from side to side. His greedy little mouth had already swallowed the candy, and at Jack's urging, Haoxin gave the boy another piece of candy.

The little boy, with candy in his mouth, said firmly, “No, sir, officer. Her hair is red. Fiery red, like an angel's. But she bit me, really.”

A few minutes later, Jack and Howsin walked out of the hospital.

"Good heavens!" the old professor exclaimed to himself again, "So fast! So fast!"

Jack cleared his throat and said the only thing he was certain of in this whole incident: "The little hole in his neck is exactly the same as poor Lucy's. I guess the other missing children's cases must be the same."

The old professor's eyes slanted at him from beneath his thick eyebrows. "Of course they're the same. What's your opinion?"

"But the reason must be the same—the holes in the children's throats were caused by the same thing that hurt Lucy."

"Then you're wrong. Oh, if only that were true! But it's not! In fact, it's much worse, far worse."

Jack stopped in surprise, facing his companion. "Good heavens, Professor Howin, what are you talking about?"

The old professor struck a pose of despair. "Those wounds were caused by Miss Lucy!"

On that very day, Jonathan and Mina returned to England; they had been married in the church hospital in Budapest. The long period of rest, coupled with the presence and care of his beloved wife, had restored Huck to his former health—at least outwardly, he was almost completely normal. A slight pallor and a slight limp, requiring the use of a cane, were the only remaining signs of his suffering.

The two of them took a connecting train from France to Dover, and then transferred to another train back to London.

In Dover, they received a telegram from Howing, bringing them the sad but not unexpected news of two deaths: Lucy and her mother.

The professor further requested that the Hucks contact his hotel, Berkeley Hotel, as soon as they arrived in London.

Upon arriving in London, the Hucks disembarked at Victoria Station. Since Jonathan was still on paid sick leave, they decided to stay at the Berkeley Hotel as well.

As the two of them boarded a carriage with their belongings, Mina whispered to her new husband, "I can't believe Lucy's gone... she'll never come back to us. She was so full of life—she must have suffered so much. Just a few months ago, her life was so different from mine. All our hopes—our dreams—"

Huck didn't know Lucy well and could only try to comfort his wife; at the same time, he gazed greedily out the window, savoring the pleasant and vibrant life of London, and rejoicing at returning to the sights of his hometown and hearing the sounds of the metropolis; for months, he had been in despair, thinking he would never see these things again.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, the familiar street scenes and the ever-changing landscape, he at least began to truly relax. However, a few minutes later, when the carriage came to a temporary stop due to the congested traffic, he was given a terrible fright.

He saw Dracula; though he looked much younger and was dressed in modern clothes, there was no doubt that he was the Count of the Carpathians. Dracula was standing under a streetlamp, arrogantly glaring back at Huck in the carriage, his expression showing no surprise whatsoever.

He casually gave his former prisoner an understanding look, then deliberately turned and walked into a tavern.

Huck wanted to jump up, but his fragile nerves wouldn't cooperate, and his knees seemed to be stuck together.

Mina noticed and tried to hug him and comfort him, staring in alarm at her husband's fearful and confused eyes.

"Jonathan? What's wrong?"

Huck pointed frantically out the window and stammered, “It’s him…himself. The Earl. I see…I see him; he’s gotten younger!”

Mina felt a chill run down her spine. She looked out the still-stationary car window, but whoever had excited her husband was nowhere to be seen.

Huck suddenly became energetic again, his eyes and voice clear and bright.

“Kafir Estate!” he snapped his fingers and shouted, “That bastard must be there.”

“Kafi—the property you sold to him.”

Huck nodded. “Yes, one of them.” He quickly rummaged through his travel bag, pulled out a thin notebook, and handed it to Mina. It was a collection of notes Huck had written while imprisoned in Dracula’s castle; he had managed to bring it with him during his escape.

Hack eagerly shoved the notebook into Mina's hands.

He looked at her pleadingly. “My dear, up to now, what I’ve told you about what happened in that hellish place has only been a general outline… Now I want you to read every single word carefully. You will understand… I beg you to…”

Mina hugged the notebook tightly. "Jonathan, what are you doing?"

"Do what I must do!" In the next instant, Jonathan jumped off the carriage and moved as fast as he could towards the direction where Dracula had disappeared.

He pushed and shoved his way through the crowded sidewalk and quickly entered the tavern, standing at the door and eagerly peering into the smoky, chaotic interior.

Traffic was gradually clearing up. Mina instructed the coachman to pull the carriage to the side of the road and wait; the coachman seemed reluctant, so Mina gave him a few coins.

Inside the tavern, Huck spotted the person he was looking for just in time: Dracula was opening another door, about to leave the smoke-filled room. Huck pushed through the crowd again, ignoring their protests, and followed him.

He was outside again, now in an alley shrouded in thick fog. He saw the count retreating again; the figure turned around, smiling, as if waving to his pursuers.

Huck followed—at that moment, anger and indignation overcame fear and common sense.

Suddenly, the fog surrounding Hack was whipped around by a strong whirlwind. A black bat, as large as a human, burst out of the thick fog and pounced on Hack backward.

Huck fell dumbfounded onto the gravel road and the wall.

Chapter Thirteen

In the dead of night in September, amidst the chilly fog, four men, carrying tools, weapons, and lanterns, stealthily entered the cemetery of Xiling Manor.

The one who instigated and organized this expedition was naturally Howing; he remained in charge of leading the expedition, while the ever-smooth-lipped Jack Schiewer served as his assistant. The old professor chose this dark time in hopes of avoiding the servants and preventing gossip from causing trouble.

Quincy Morley, still unable to fathom the true nature of his enemy, is determined to support his friend, joining forces with Arthur Hongbird, who has almost simultaneously lost his father and lover. Arthur has inherited the title of Lord Gothmin after his father's death.

Quincy and Arthur were even more clueless than Jack about the purpose of their intrusion, so their presence was somewhat reluctant. They both felt a mixture of dread and mystery about Howsing's claim that a crucial task had to be completed that night in the Wetner family tombs.

After exiting the mansion through a side gate, the four men followed closely together into the grounds of the Wetner family cemetery. Once inside, after passing the tombstones of distant relatives, retainers, and servants, Hausin led them directly to the entrance to the ancient family burial mounds on the ground.

According to Lucy's will, Arthur Hongbird inherited all her property, including what had once belonged to her mother; therefore, Arthur carried all the keys to the estate. At the old professor's authoritative prompting, and with Jack's confirming nod, Arthur reluctantly opened the iron door to the tomb. For centuries, the bodies of immediate family members had been buried here. The lock was easy to open, as it had been oiled just days before during the double funeral.

Holding a lantern, Haoxin led his followers in silently and then went down.

As Jack followed the old professor down the echoing stone steps, he painfully and vividly recalled the daytime scene at the gravesite during Lucy and her daughter's funeral. Even in daylight, even with wreaths everywhere, the interior of the tomb still felt eerie. Now, in the light of their lanterns, the flowers had begun to wither, white turning to yellowish-brown, green to brown. Spiders and beetles had regained their usual dominance, while the stones, discolored by time, the dust-laden mortar, the rusted iron, and the somber bronze and silverware all reflected a faint candlelight. Jack found the scene unimaginably tragic and filthy.

Upon reaching the catacombs within the dome, Howsin began his work methodically. He handed the lantern to someone else, lit a candle, and examined the coffin nameplates by candlelight. He recognized Lucy's coffin, which was placed inside a sarcophagus, and instructed his young attendants to remove the heavy stone dome.

Arthur cleared his throat, his voice sounding rather eerie in the cold silence. He suddenly spoke: "Must we desecrate Lucy's grave? She died badly enough—"

After adjusting the lighting with satisfaction, Howsing raised a hand. He spoke with a slightly lecturing tone, like a professor giving a lecture: "If Miss Lucy is dead, we won't mistreat her tonight. But then again, if she's not dead—"

His words nearly drove Arthur to the brink of collapse. "My God, what are you saying—was she buried alive?"

The old professor looked at him calmly. "I didn't say she wasn't dead."

As instructed by Howsin, Jack and Quincy picked up screwdrivers and began to unscrew the outer shell of the coffin.

Arthur, watching from the side, became increasingly agitated. "Not dead? What does that mean? Jack? Quincy?"

Quincy Morley simply shook his head; he was determined to at least get to the bottom of it.

Arthur continued to protest: "This is insane! What did poor Lucy do! To make me allow such blasphemy? She died badly enough—"

Unmoved, Haoxin unscrewed the last screw, lifted the outer coffin lid, revealing the airtight lead lid of the inner outer coffin.

Arthur could hardly bear to see this.

Howsin pressed the screwdriver against the thin lead sheet and swiftly pierced downwards, creating a small hole large enough to fit the tip of a small cogwheel saw. His entourage involuntarily stepped back. Jack, with his extensive medical experience, had expected the stench of a rotting corpse to emanate from the hole, but to his surprise, nothing did. The old professor, meanwhile, didn't stop working for a moment.

He sawed a slit about two feet long along one side of the lead coffin, then turned to saw horizontally and cut downwards. Next, he grasped the loose, protruding green piece he had cut, bent the lead sheet backwards to the bottom of the coffin, stepped back, and gestured for the others to come forward and look.

One by one, Arthur brought up the rear and stepped forward to gaze into the coffin. The coffin was empty.

Arthur, pale-faced, stepped back. "Where is she?" he screamed, his voice almost a shriek. "Monsin, what have you done to her?"

The old professor's words struck like a hammer blow. "She's a vampire. In Eastern Europe, they call her 'Nosteratu.' She didn't die, but lives outside of God's grace, wandering in the darkness. They were infected by another 'Nosteratu' and became almost immortal."

Quincy dropped his tools and let out intermittent groans, a mixture of anger and sarcasm, as if he still couldn't believe the reality he was experiencing.

Arthur grabbed Howsin. "That's nonsense! My blood transfusion has made Lucy my bride." No one had ever mentioned the other three transfusions to her fiancé, and certainly not now. "I will protect her from this blasphemy!"

The old professor pounded on the empty coffin. The rolled-up lead sheets made a hollow sound. "What you see isn't her. These vampires must feed on the blood of the living, generation after generation, forever."

"Liar! You can't prove it. Old man! Crazy old man! What did you do to her?"

Immediately afterwards, Arthur pulled a revolver from his belt and impulsively pointed it at Howing.

For a long while, the tomb was shrouded in a shocked silence. Quincy stared in disbelief, while Arthur, in pain and confusion, was nearing a state of madness, the heavy pistol trembling in his hand. Jack, while calculating how to stop Arthur, also tried to maintain his professional composure. Howsing, on the other hand, seemed to simply wait woodenly and resignedly, regardless of what fate awaited him in the next ten seconds.

Then Hausin tilted his head and listened; he raised one hand and commanded everyone to remain silent.

Then, a soft female voice, singing some kind of lullaby, drifted from not far outside the tomb to the men's ears.

The three young men looked at each other in surprise.

Hausin gestured again, ordering them to remain silent. He quickly led his companions, lanterns in hand, into the gap between the two ancient sarcophagi, out of sight of the steps. Once hidden, he blew out everyone's candles, extinguishing even the flames of their lanterns.

The four men waited in the darkness, listening intently, holding their breath. Only a sliver of moonlight shone into the catacombs from the entrance to the upper columbarium. Jack remembered that they hadn't closed the iron gate above.

At that moment, he couldn't say what he was waiting for; but what happened next was beyond his expectations. A white figure slowly walked down the stairs, holding a smaller figure in its arms, humming a lullaby, gradually appearing in the pale moonlight on the steps.

The figure paused for a moment, let out a familiar giggle, then started humming a song again and continued walking downstairs.

Jack felt a chill run down his spine; Howsin's hand gripped his arm like an iron clamp. He recognized the ghostly voice as Lucy's—he had personally issued her death certificate and witnessed her being buried—but the low singing sounded like someone drunk, almost incoherent and broken.

At Hao Xin's command, the four of them stepped out of their hiding place. Hao Xin then lit a lantern, casting a beam of light that focused on the human figure on the steps.

The woman's face and red hair were undoubtedly Lucy's, and with the strong light falling on her face, all four men could see that her lips were stained red with blood, which flowed down her chin and dripped onto her pure white dress—which was supposed to be her wedding dress, but was now lewdly torn open at the chest.

Like a demon, Lucy ruthlessly and mercilessly threw the child she had been clutching to her chest to the ground. She bared her inhuman teeth at the four men facing her, then stepped back down the last few steps, trying to return to her coffin.

Jack rushed forward immediately, picked up the wailing child, and, with a doctor's intuition, noticed that the child wasn't seriously injured...

Quincy stared in horror at the ghost. He instinctively drew his scimitar and assumed a fighting stance.

Arthur had never expected any of this, and his knees felt weak.

Now, standing beside the coffin, Lucy seemed to only just notice that her fiancé was also in the tomb. As if by magic, her lust and wickedness vanished instantly.