Monster Murder Mystery

Part IV: The Countess

"We don't know that!"

Ernie tried to mouth some words, but all that came out were gasps. Dracula tightened his grip.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Countess saw Dr. West pick up something from the floor over by Captain Silver. He came up behind Dracula, raising the object.

"You leave me no choice!" the doctor cried.

Too late, she saw what he held—the broken remains of Silver's wooden crutch, which ended in a point. West thrust the stake through Dracula's back, right where his heart lay.

"No!" screamed the Countess.

He immediately dropped Ernie, who coughed and spluttered on the floor. Dracula reached behind him, trying in vain to pull the stake from his back. He gave a croak and then fell on his back. The impact pushed the front end of the wood up so it protruded through his chest. The Countess gasped as her husband's blood splattered on her face.

She dropped to the floor beside him and placed her hands on the bloody point. "I can pull this out. I can save you."

He reached up to stroke her cheek, his eyes growing dim. Already his hair had turned white again and his skin became lined.

"Dearest Mina, please stop. I no longer have the strength to survive this. My time has come and gone." He cocked his head, as if hearing some far off sound. "Listen to them . . . the children of the night . . . what music they make."

His body became limp as the undead spirit departed it. The Countess held his hand to her face as her bloody tears poured down. His hand cracked and then crumbled into dust. The rest of his body soon followed until all that was left was powder and rags. She let the last of the dust fall through her fingers, mixing with her red teardrops.

After some time Ernie approached her. "His hands were so hairy. How could you stand it?"

She jerked her head round and snarled at him, her fangs extending.

"Sorry, too soon?" Ernie said. He rubbed his bruised throat

The Countess stood up, wiping the blood from her face. She licked her fingers and felt hunger pangs. It had been too long since she had fed. She sensed Dr. West approach her with his hand outstretched, whether to console her or attack her she was not sure. She turned and grabbed him around the neck. He whimpered as she moved her fangs towards her throat.

"Forgive me," he said. "I thought he was the one hunting us. I see now I was wrong. I will make amends however I can, but please don't kill me."

The Countess gripped him for a moment longer. Then she allowed her fangs to retract and stepped away. "I would kill you both right now, but we still have more pressing concerns."

"If only we knew who killed the butler," Dr. West mused. "That was the start of all this. Whoever killed him knew the fear and panic would start us tearing each other apart like hungry wolves."

"Then it is a pity the butler is lost to us beyond the veil through which even the undead cannot pass," she said.

A strange look came over Dr. West's face, a blend of excitement and trepidation. "That's not entirely true."

He reached under the table where his doctor's bag still lay. He rummaged around inside it, talking as he searched. "I have recently created something that may give us the answers we seek. I call it . . . my reanimating solution."

He pulled a small object out of his bag. The Countess stared at a syringe filled with viscous liquid.

"What does it do?" she asked.