The Circus Master

The Book of the Vampires: The Circus Folk

John Ferguson couldn't remember the last time he had eaten so much, and considering he wasn't what you'd call a light eater that was really saying a lot.

Ferguson was a gluttonous man in virtually all aspects of his life. Food, wine, women and especially wealth. He was notorious for his meanness and firing his employees for the most trivial issues.

Ferguson was hated by all his employees and the local community alike, but he didn't care. All Ferguson cared about was maintaining his own selfish, hedonistic lifestyle. Sadly for John Ferguson however, a lifetime of selfishness was about to catch up to him.

Ferguson often walked home alone and tonight was no exception. He hated having to waste money on a carriage, and he felt assured that due to his influence, no one would dare try and attack him in the dark.

This night would be different.

Ferguson spotted what looked like a shambling figure in the very distance, headed in his direction. "Probably a begger" he thought to himself and instinctively turned away. It soon became apparent to the miser however that the "begger" was following him.

"Oh great" he thought "I'll have to actually push him away with my cane again. Why don't these people learn?"

Ferguson approached the begger confidently. "Look sir, I don't know who you are, and you clearly don't know who I am or else you wouldn't be bothering me. I've just had a big meal, I'd like to get home and"

The begger who still did his best to conceal his face behind a ragged hood interrupted Ferguson "Don't worry I wouldn't expect any show of humanity from you. Unfortunately for you" the figure said as he raised his head, pulled his rags back, and revealed his hideous, monstrous face to a petrified Ferguson. "You can now expect the same from me."

The figures skin was bright white and rock hard. Its features were long and pointed, whilst its mouth was filled with razor sharp teeth. Like all Vampires, its upper canines however were the longest. Its claws were tar black and long, whilst its hair was thinning and scraggly looking.

As John slowly backed away from the monster in terror, he thought that he could actually recognise the beast for a moment before his fear overcame him. Ferguson raised his cane to the stranger in a pitiful attempt to defend himself. The monster however quickly batted the cane from his hand.

"Listen, whatever you are. If you harm me there will be consequences I can assure you. I'm not some useless beggar, or jumped up harlet. I'm."

The monster interrupted Ferguson's egocentric pleas. It spoke in a hideous, screeching hissing voice.

"Oh they'll notice you're gone, but only out of relief you're finally gone. Come now, look closely at this face. The last you will ever see. Don't you recognise me? Or do all the people whose lives you destroy just blur together as one inconsequential mess."

Ferguson looked more closely at the aberration. There was indeed a creeping sense of familiarity in the Demonic visage.

It finally hit John when the monster raised its right arm from out of the robes it was wearing. John could clearly see that it had a stump where its right hand should be. "Of course! You're that Richards bastard aren't you? Is this your latest pathetic little prank to try and get back at me for your failure of a life?" Even in the face of certain death, Ferguson's arrogance knew no bounds.

Richards had once worked in Ferguson's mill. Due to his constant cutting corners however, Richards had lost an arm in one of Ferguson's filthy machines. After the accident he was deemed unfit for work, and unable to get another job. Tragically Richard's daughter later died of rickets whilst his wife drank herself to death in grief.