incontrôlable

Chapitre 7

The shrill sound cut through the silent space like a knife, creating a clear boundary. I could almost hear the others gasp in shock.

Mrs. Austin was momentarily stunned, her face turning deathly pale, but she immediately adopted an indignant expression: "What are you saying, Miss Palmer? How could you... how could you slander me... I—"

She moved as if she was about to come closer, and Miss Palmer grabbed whatever was next to her and threw it at her!

“Martha!” Mr. Austin quickly stepped in front of his wife. “Don’t upset her! Miss Palmer seems to be having some kind of mental breakdown.”

I stepped forward and hugged the agitated girl, pressing her head into my chest, covering her eyes, and stroking her trembling shoulders: "No one can hurt you, Miss Palmer... Shh, I'm here with you... I'll protect you... Calm down, please calm down..."

Her rapid breathing gradually calmed down, and she gripped my shirt tightly with both hands. The priest gave me a look, and I led the girl to a corner to calm her down.

“Excuse me, madam,” the priest said to Mrs. Austin, who was both shocked and angry. “Miss Palmer is very frightened. She… she says she saw a vampire.” The dark-haired clergyman then recounted to the others the terrible story that the young lady in my arms had told us.

Everyone present stared wide-eyed, as if they had heard something unbelievable. Their astonished expressions showed how hard they found it to believe, but the fear in their eyes betrayed their skepticism after a series of terrible events.

Mrs. Austin was so angry that her lips were trembling, as if she couldn't believe that such an accusation had been leveled against her.

“This is absurd!” she cried, gripping her husband’s arm. “I… how could I be… God, I didn’t even leave the room, and I was attacked. Why would she say such a thing?”

“Martha, calm down! You’re very weak…” Mr. Austin frowned as he helped his wife up and pressed her back into the recliner. Mrs. Austin took a few deep breaths, then leaned on her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

The priest offered a slight apology, then said in a gentle tone, "Please forgive me, Mrs. Austin, I didn't mean to upset you. But as you saw, Miss Palmer wasn't acting. If you believe Miss Palmer isn't telling the truth, then you must tell me everything that happened to you in detail..."

Attorney Field and Mr. Carl Dewey nodded repeatedly: "That's right, Mrs. Austin, Miss Palmer's thinking is quite confused right now, and perhaps she's saying something incorrect..."

Mrs. Austin's gaze swept across everyone's faces before finally turning her head: "You doubt me too?"

"No, I just need to find out more about it."

Mrs. Austin sighed. “I already told you… I was in my room when I heard screams in the distance… I tried to go out and see what was happening, but I was too weak to move. Then… then the door opened, and there it was… a vampire, completely cloaked in black… It came in, trying to hurt me… I was terrified, but I had no strength to fight back! I grabbed the crucifix around my neck and desperately prayed to God, begging Him to protect me… Then the monster seemed unable to look at the crucifix, and it leaped out the window, howling. I wanted to go see Miss Palmer, but I was too weak to move, so I stayed where I was until you returned…”

It sounded perfectly fine; I listened to Mrs. Austin's explanation while comforting the sobbing Miss Palmer. The priest, however, raised an eyebrow and smiled: "Are you sure you saw that vampire in the black cloak?"

"Yes, I'm telling the truth!" She seemed a little angry. "What's wrong?"

“Oh, nothing.” The priest shrugged. “It’s just that Attorney Field and I also found a black cloak in the coffin in the cemetery. I think the vampire must have been in the manor at that time, right? Otherwise, he would have had two outfits to switch between. How thoughtful of him.”

His joke didn't make anyone happy, but it made Mrs. Austen's already small eyes almost pop out of their sockets! I saw Mr. Dewey involuntarily take two steps back.

"That's outrageous! Father!" she trembled with anger. "I never imagined you could be so...so vicious!"

“I’m sorry, madam, this is a necessary process to get to the bottom of things.” The man wasn’t angry. “Actually, there’s an even better way to prove your innocence: you haven’t changed your clothes since this morning, have you?”

She looked at him with a puzzled expression, and after a long while, she nodded.

“That’s wonderful.” The priest pulled the lace from his pocket. “It was found in the first mate’s claws, and I believe it was left by the monster that harmed him. If you haven’t left your room, then I’m sure it’s not yours. Of course, a proper comparison is necessary to be convincing. I’ve looked at Miss Palmer’s clothes, and they’re not hers; I think you won’t refuse to let me verify them to prove my innocence, will you, madam?”

The room fell silent, and all eyes were on the young woman.

The firelight flickered, casting shifting shadows on everyone's faces. Mr. Austin, somewhat annoyed by the priest's words, frowned and urged his wife, "What does it matter, Martha? You're telling the truth!"

The priest held out his hand, the five-inch-long lace lying flat on his palm: "It looks like it was embroidered on the cuffs and collar as decoration, madam. If you don't mind, would you please move to a brighter place?"

Silence fell again. I looked up at the person in the middle of the room, and what happened next was nothing short of a nightmare—

Mrs. Austin remained motionless for a long time. She looked up at the priest, and suddenly her mouth split into a strange angle. In that twisted smile, two white fangs suddenly appeared, and her black eyes turned blood red in an instant!

God!

(13. The Secret of Painting)

16:03:31

The vampire... it was her!

Although I was mentally prepared, seeing someone I knew turn into a monster before my very eyes still sent chills down my spine! Miss Palmer screamed and fainted.

In that split second we were stunned, Mrs. Austen abruptly shoved her husband aside, and Mr. Austen was sent flying into the wall with a thud, unconscious. The woman pounced on the priest like a tiger, opening her mouth to bite his pale neck.

My heart nearly stopped beating, while Attorney Field and Mr. Dewey let out hoarse screams and collapsed to the floor, scrambling backward.

I pushed Miss Palmer and Hans aside. Luther instinctively grabbed his gun, but the two bodies on the ground were struggling violently, making it impossible to aim. Mrs. Austin suddenly became incredibly strong, her sharp nails scratching bloody gashes on the priest's face and neck. She let out an animalistic howl and fiercely swung her claws!

Just as I raised my gun to charge, Mrs. Austin suddenly jumped up and staggered back. The priest quickly got to his feet and distanced himself from her.

I froze, immediately noticing a gleaming silver knife protruding from the disheveled woman's chest! Bright red blood gushed from the wound, instantly soaking a large patch of her clothes, a glaring sight. Her red eyes stared in disbelief at her wound, her facial muscles contorting, becoming even more ferocious. She opened her mouth and roared, pulling up her upper lip to reveal sharp fangs.

The priest, panting heavily, snatched Hans Luther's shotgun from him and aimed it at the "woman"! Just as Mrs. Austin was about to pounce again, he struck her squarely in the neck.

The bright red liquid splattered out like a fountain, covering the walls and floor. The warm bits of liquid stuck to my face, and I couldn't help but shiver all over.

That terrifying body finally collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, but our tense muscles did not relax. I could clearly hear the heavy breathing of the others, and after a while, I heard the rustling of clothes. I felt my knees go weak, so I had to hold onto the wall for support.

"Alright, gentlemen." The priest took a long breath, his hair disheveled and hanging down his back, his face and neck covered in blood and wounds. "It's alright now, come and help me out."

Mr. Carl Dewey swallowed hard and cautiously helped Attorney Field to his feet; both of them looked shaken.

“Come on, please carry Mr. Austin to the next room,” the priest said to them. “And butler, please take care of Miss Palmer. Mr. Green and I will stay here and clean up.”

“But…” Attorney Field hesitated, “Mr. Austin…he is her husband…”

“He’s already passed out, and he was hit by this ‘wife’,” the priest reassured him. “It’s alright. If you’re worried, you still have guns.”

So the two gentlemen carried the unconscious man away, Hans. Luther nodded to us and carefully lifted Miss Palmer out of the room. Everyone was silent, no one wanted to say anything; the room, filled with the stench of blood, was eerily quiet.

The priest threw down his hunting rifle and sat on the armrest of the sofa. He stared blankly at the corpse on the ground, his face expressionless. I couldn't understand what he was thinking; I just felt that his expression was far from "gratified."

“Father, what are you thinking about?” I asked.

“Oh,” he replied casually, “it’s just that some things seem strange.”

"Strange?" His tone startled me.

The priest approached the corpse. It had rolled over, its pale skin stained with blood, and the carpet beneath it was soaked black. I couldn't bear to look directly at its still-open red eyes and long fangs, so I looked away.

“A vampire…” He drew his silver knife. “How strange, is Mrs. Austin a vampire?”

“That’s just how it is,” I said. “She revealed her true colors herself, and that’s the answer.”

“No, no.” The priest touched the bloodstains with his finger. “What are vampires? They are the living dead, cursed zombies. Their bodies wouldn’t have blood this red; they only have dead blood. But the blood flowing from this body is very…fresh…”

I was somewhat dissatisfied with his choice of words: "But... perhaps it's because she just drank someone else's blood today..."

“That’s possible. But she didn’t have those disgusting fleshy wings growing on her back, something we saw very clearly at our first scene—vampires have wings. And now… she’s at least still human.” The priest brushed Mrs. Austin’s hair aside, squinting. “Why is her skin still elastic? She should have turned to ash, or her body should have shriveled up.”

I shook my head, unable to answer him.

"More importantly, we did see her being pinned to the ground by a vampire, so how did that happen?"

"Perhaps, perhaps... it's because she was bitten by a vampire..."

The priest sat down on the floor: "Mr. Green, are you familiar with the legends about the origin of vampires?"

"Uh...it seems to be a Romanian legend, about that poor prince."

"And Judas."

"Yes, I know a little about it."

“Judas committed suicide and became a vampire because he died at dusk, so he was afraid of sunlight; because he betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, he was afraid of silver. Later, the church relied on these conventions to succeed in exorcisms, but now we know that the church's records regarding sunlight may need to be revised. We're in much bigger trouble than we thought.” He stroked his chin. “I always feel that Mrs. Austen's body was more like a human than a vampire’s.”

I couldn't answer that question; my mind was in complete turmoil, and I couldn't think of anything. The priest closed her eyes with his hand, placed a crucifix on the corpse's forehead, and then stood up: "Never mind, let's get out of here. The smell in this room is awful."

The clock in the room struck eight. The priest and I went back to the room, took a shower, and changed into clean clothes. Neither of us could eat dinner; we hadn't yet recovered from the ordeal.

As the priest applied medicine in front of the mirror, he asked, "Where do you plan to bury the first mate, Mr. Green?"

I was placing my friend's stiff body into a small wooden box, which I was using as a coffin. "Somewhere around here, in the garden," I replied. "I can't take it back to London."

The priest nodded without speaking. Just then, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and let Hans Luther and Mr. Karl Dewey in. They looked much better than before, seemingly pleased with the elimination of the vampire.

"How are things, gentlemen?" The priest put down the medicine he was holding and came over. "How's the situation downstairs?"

“Not bad, Father,” the old butler said. “After Miss Palmer woke up, I told her that the vampires had been eliminated, and she calmed down a lot and ate something.”

“Mr. Austin has also woken up,” Mr. Dewey told us, “but he’s in a bad mood and looks very dazed. It seems even he didn’t know his wife was a monster. Attorney Field is watching him, poor man.”

The priest offered no comment; he simply told Mr. Dewey that it would be best to let Mr. Austin calm down, and that he and Attorney Field would have to stay with him. Mr. Dewey nodded and left.

“We can’t let our guard down now,” the priest told us. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s more than one vampire. Gentlemen, your shotguns are still useful.”

"Why do you say that?" The butler's face paled even more.

“Because there were vampires who attacked Mrs. Austin back then, she couldn’t possibly play two roles at once,” the priest said, leaning against the fireplace. “Besides, I suspect she wasn’t a real vampire, but rather a human who was turning into one, which means the culprit who turned her into a monster hasn’t been found yet.”

"So what should we do now?" I asked. "Should we just wait for it to appear and hurt people?"

“No, this time we need to take the initiative.” He tilted his head. “Mr. Green, why don’t you tell Mr. Luther about the ghost? Perhaps he can give us some hints.”

Although I didn't understand why he suddenly brought this up, I still recounted what I had seen. The old butler's wrinkled face twitched, a hint of pain appearing on his face.

The priest sat down on the sofa: "Although it only appeared once, I believe Mr. Green was not seeing things. Mr. Green did not live here permanently, so encountering a ghost must have been accidental. But why did it come to this room without bothering anyone else? Mr. Luther, you must know who lived in this room before, right?"

The old butler nodded and said, "Of course, sir, I know very well that this used to be the madam's room."

We all looked surprised. The priest frowned and looked around. "Is this Mrs. Brooks's room?"

“Yes, sir,” Hans Luther said, pointing to the paintings on the wall. “You see, there’s also a portrait of her when she was young.”

Following the direction of his finger, I saw a familiar painting—the very one I had noticed on my first day here.

The girl with the sweetest smile wore a long white dress and had long, golden hair. The sunlight shone on her like a veil, making her look like an angel.

I simply cannot reconcile her with that old woman who hides in a dark room and uses animal cruelty as a form of venting!

"Oh my god..." I murmured in amazement.

The priest stood up, walked to the painting, and carefully examined the figures in it, his pale fingers tightly clasped together on his arms.

“Mr. Luther,” he asked suddenly, seriously, “are you sure Mrs. Brooks is buried in the village churchyard?”

“Yes, sir.” The butler nodded. “I personally arranged the funeral.”

"Were they all buried there?"

His question was puzzling, and we were a bit confused. "I don't understand what you mean, sir," the butler said, perplexed.

The priest didn't explain further. He stared intently at the painting, then moved a chair over, stood on it, and carefully traced the frame with his fingers, even peering behind it. Suddenly, he forcefully lifted the frame and took it off the wall.

“What do you want to do, Father?” I exclaimed.

“Look here!” he exclaimed excitedly.

On the wall behind the picture frame, a hole filled with wooden blocks was visible.

(14. Net)

16:03:58