Beethoven - Scourge of Vampires [ONC 2022]

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Between the years of 1815 and 1819, Ludwig van Beethoven entered his 'Fallow Period'. There were many reasons cited and most are accepted, if not wholly believed. It is known, however, that Beethoven retired from public life after a passionate affair across the years 1812 to 1813.

That which is accepted, however, is very rarely the truth.

Beethoven had very real reasons for avoiding the public. Very real and very dangerous reasons.

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Vienna 1818

The streets were empty. Empty of life, that much was certain. Though the rooftops were a different story. Bernhard ushered Hilde along as fast as he could, though she still struggled in her faint. Even as he held her wrist, to aid her in their rush towards the church, he could feel the deathly chill of her skin. The thready, inconsistent beats of her blood within her wrists. He had little time.

With only a few streets left to traverse, he held no confidence that he, and Hilde, would reach the doors of that blessed sanctuary. Whether the priests within the church could help Hilde in her most desperate hour of need, Bernhard could not say, but if the chosen voices of God upon this Earth could not help his beloved, he doubted anyone could.

Hilde's legs collapsed beneath her once more and she fell from Bernhard's arms, her skirts flowering out around her, her stockings on show for all to see, though there were no eyes that could look. Not here. Not at this hour. Not human eyes, at least.

He tried to revive Hilde, her pale skin looking drawn as he tried to tap her cheeks. Enough to sting, but not hurt her. It did no good. She murmured in her fever, though Bernhard did not wish to hear the name that she uttered with a lusty breath that hissed from her lungs like a death rattle. Her blue lips curled in a wicked smile, dry tongue flashing out to wet those lips, revealing the changes that had already begun within her body.

More than his beloved's life was at stake here, but also the sanctity of her immortal soul. She would never achieve salvation if Bernhard could not reach the church and beg the Holy Father's to bless her before the end. To bathe her in Holy Water. Submerge her if they must. Anything, everything they could do.

He felt tired, himself. He had fought them off once, but he doubted he could do so again. They were too strong. Too numerous. The blows that he had struck would have felled any normal man, but they were not normal. They were no longer men. They were foul, desecrated shells and he had struck at them with great malice, wielding his cavalry sabre. That sabre now flapped against his leg, as useless as he felt. They had not stopped coming. Coming for Hilde.

He crouched down to Hilde's side and, with great strain, lifted her bodily within his arms. With shuddering, stumbling legs, he managed to stand. If he could do this one thing, if he could save Hilde, it would prove him right and his father so very wrong. He was a man. A good man, and if he could protect Hilde for a short whole longer, he could look his father in the eye, knowing that he had done a man's job. A man's duty.

The sounds of scurrying fell upon his ears. They had tired of tormenting him and now they had come for their Lord's prize. He had failed. Failed in his duty to protect the one he loved. With Hilde still in his arms, he fell against a nearby wall, out of breath. Out of time. His eyes desperately roved around the darkened, silent street that almost seemed to become darker by the second.

Every door remained closed to him. Every window shuttered. He would find no help here. They knew of the events that occurred outside their hovels, of course. He could smell it in the air. That unmistakeable scent that told him they protected themselves while he had nothing but a sabre and his waning strength.