𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐦

Act IV, Scene II

"And it was high time I came downstairs," the master of the house continued. "I've been hibernating long enough. Lucy, my dear, you're awake. Thank heaven."

Anger and distrust emanated from Dr. Reed. When he spoke, Lucy could tell he was putting forth great effort to keep his voice steady. "Yes, she's awake. And deserving of some answers, don't you think?"

"Quite right," Sir Wilhern agreed. He nodded, grave. "Had I known about this Ceremony of Unity, I would have confessed everything long ago," he said, his sorrowful gaze focused on Lucy. "I thought we had heard the last of that creature. I thought I could somehow make up for my transgressions by giving you a safe place to acclimate to your new existence. But it's not enough. Nothing could ever be enough. I have wronged you in the most grievous of ways. And in doing so, I have robbed us both of my son. For that, there is no atonement."

Lucy stared at Sir Wilhern, an expression of sour disdain warping her dainty features. She'd known this man her entire life. He had been a second father to her, often more understanding and charismatic than her own rigid and strict patriarch. But now... Now she wasn't sure who he was.

"I simply want to know why," she said. "Why would you bring that monster here? For what purpose? Profit? Sensationalism? That does not seem like the Victor Wilhern I've known since childhood."

"It's not. I swear it's not," Sir Wilhern insisted. "And I promise you, Lucy, my intentions were nothing of the sort. No one was to ever know he was here. But the sarcophagus in which he traveled immediately caught Arthur's eye when I returned with the Egyptian cargo. I knew it was his favorite piece, so when I found his letter in my study regarding your midnight rendezvous, I knew–"

His voice broke. He pressed a hand to his mouth, and his shoulders shook with a series of silent sobs.

Lucy didn't press him. Every time she thought about Arthur's death, a prickle of tears and shortness of breath bombarded her. She knew it must be even worse for her fiancé's father.

At last Sir Wilhern cleared his throat and continued. "You asked me why. The reason, in its simplest form, is medicine. The crews on my ships sail all over the world, contracting a formidable host of exotic diseases - many for which, we do not have a cure or proper treatment here in England. My own late wife died of cholera after a trip we took to India."

"I remember," Lucy murmured, her eyes downcast. "I was young, but I remember how she...deteriorated. Arthur suffered so very much."

"He did," Sir Wilhern agreed, his face pinched with grief. "And so did I. It was shortly thereafter, through bumbling and grievous research, that I discovered the miraculous healing properties of vampire blood. I felt the discovery could be no coincidence or accident. I was meant to find it. And I had it in my head that we could create a universal remedy for all ailments. Cure the world of disease. Become heroes without ever brandishing a weapon."

He sniffed a resentful laugh.

Running a hand over his face, Sir Wilhern went on, "Yes, heroes. A grandiose pipe dream the lofty ambitions of which could only be eclipsed by its monumental failure. I was a fool. Diseases, as destructive as they are, must exist, and human immunity must develop of its own accord to combat against them. If this necessary process is omitted or passed over, it will cause great pains for future generations. I know it is of no consequence, but I have abandoned that dream. It was foolhardy and pretentious, regardless of my motives."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Virgil quoted.

Sir Wilhern considered Virgil's words with narrowed eyes. "Indeed," he stated in agreement. "And monstrous desires make monsters of us all. I will no longer pursue that venture. It's done with."