Chapter 1: Prologue (1893, Morning)
Chapter Text
Adrian Villiers' POV
Hello, theoretical audience inside my head (because I will certainly not be addressing Helen Vaughan), you might be confused with what's going on. Unluckily for you, I am none the wiser either, what a shame, huh?
Before we get to that though, let's retrace back a few weeks ago, starting before all of this began, back in one Mr. Arthur Kemp's house back in Port Burdock.
After we settled Griffin's rage over the 'wasted' time, we discussed our next move to chase after the elusive Jonathan Harker and his collaborators.
"So, I looked into it using my connections, it seems there was a sighting of a large group of suspiciously cloaked figures being climbing onboard a ship, en route to Transylvania, they had quite the amount of luggage with them, among which are coffins," I explained concisely the information I got from one of my many...informants, shall we call it.
"Golly! I think we found our vampire, friends!" Griffin said sarcastically, flipping his long white hair with a hint of arrogance.
"How many people did you say there were?" Moreau inquired.
"Report says that there are maybe around 15 or more," I replied back. When I saw the Doctor's brows furrowed, I shrugged, "Hard to keep count when they all dress the same under the back of dawn's light, do be patient with my hardworking people, Doctor."
He only "Hmph" back at me before being interrupted by one Colonel Adye, "Those must be Atherton's kidnapped and brainwashed victims, right? What purpose could they be using them for to risk attracting attention like that?"
"Nothing good, I would assume, and that is why we must give chase to them at once!" Van Helsing declared and everyone in the room nod in agreement.
We had been following this group for quite a while, now that they have too many numbers in their care, we must act swiftly before anything bad can happen.
Everyone else seems to have their own agenda, some for chivalrous reason, others for the sake of getting rid of a pesky issue, a few for the sake of meeting their loved ones again.
I, for the most part, am quite interested in meeting this Jonathan Harker. I had wondered what kind of man would give himself away to hell's embrace so willingly, and causing so much trouble for even our good apathetic doctor to be so disturbed by it.
"Indeed, if nothing more than to rid ourselves from this vampire pest problem," Moreau clarified his stance, as he always does.
Those who speak their minds tend to do so to get these thoughts away from muddling everyone's focus. A problem I often find stiffling in society where speaking one's mind and risking offending someone is frowned upon, no matter how accurate it is.
"Adam!" Van Helsing scolded him, though everyone knows how pointless it is. If he does not change in one decade, then he will not change until it is forced upon him, such a light reprimand is useless, I would know.
Moreau sighed, "I think we had enough back and forth about this topic and none of us have changed our minds," He explained it again, "Whatever Harker is intending to do, no matter the intention of the ghost, I frankly have no reasons to go along with it, aside from making sure no one will never slight me again, so I will do what I must."
"I'll go with you," Griffin's voice suddenly rang out, everyone made a face of surprise, everyone who knew of him anyway , "Let's be clear, I agree with Moreau that I ain't doing it for the betterment of the world, frankly I just want to punch their stupid faces in!!!"
His...excitement was quite a bit different from what I was used to. I wondered if having such a violent reckless man would be good for us? Not that I hate such things, but that is only if I were the sole risk.
However, the Chief of Police, Colonel Adye, was unsure of Griffin's suggestion and ask him for clarity with great concern, "Are you sure about this, Griffin?"
"Adye, I survived being shot repeatedly at point blank, I'm the last thing you should be worried about!" Griffin brought out an excellent point. Make that 3 risks, as Griffin, Prendick, and I are currently impervious to most, if not all damages.
Adye sighed, "I know, I'm never worried about you getting hurt physically," He paused, "It's just...I'm afraid that you might go overboard again, just like last night..."
There was silence in the room, Adye took a glance at the room the owner of the house is currently resting from his injuries in, "I simply do not wish for you to have to make a choice you will end up regretting," he said.
My concerns were well placed after all; this invisible man doesn't seem like the type of person to consider the odds if he had to be told that.
After a few more seconds, there was a sound of tongue clicking in annoyance, "Fine, I'll behave, for real this time, I won't go overboard." At least he is not without reason, though how well can he practice what he preach is another issue.
"Everyone is such good friends with each other, I'm quite jealous," I said. Everytime I go do something, I am met with Raymond's eyes rolling or Austin's sarcastic remarks, they never really show that much concern. But it is me we're talking about, I suppose they just have gotten used to it.
"Aren't I right here, uncle?" The foul beast snickered, I almost suceeded in my attempt to forget of her existence, but alas, life isn't so simple.
"I wish you were dead," I hissed at her and she let out a small laugh of triumph.
If it weren't for Raymond and the laws of this land, I swear to God...
"Very well then, that means that aside from the 3 injured, the Colonel, and the 2 ladies, everyone else will be going to Transylvania to stop whatever Harker is planning, are we all in agreement?" Moreau declared, and none of us had an objection to it, we were here at all because, for various personal reasons, we want to stop that vampire.
Murray suddenly stepped forward in objection to being left out, "I want to go as well! I don't want to stay idle while it is my fiancee who is involved," She said to Moreau with her brows furrowed in determination.
It was now Westerna's turn to voice her concerns, "Are you sure, Mina? 3 years have passed, who knows how that time has affected him, he's already losing it before that."
Murray tried to show her determination, "I believe that whoever is on the side of light will prevail...always," She squeezed her hand tightly.
In the end, she cannot hide the shred of anxiety coming out from her voice, so much so that even I can tell she's concerned over what she should be doing against what she wants to do, and that unknown causes fear in her.
But finally, she came to a decision to continue onwards, "If...If Jonathan is not on that side, then...I want to be there to witness it for myself and despite everything, I still want him to tell me the truth, the full truth, no matter what it is. I believe that is the only way we can finally come to terms with what happened.
Moreau stared at Murray's expression, but soon shrugged his shoulders and scoffed, "Hmph, then it is decided, the lady gets what she wants." He sounds sarcastic, but his small smirk tells me he's quite amused.
In the midst of all the multiple discussion taking place, Griffin, who stood behind me, whispered towards Adye, "Adye, about Kemp..."
"Of course, you can count on me to keep him safe from harm," Adye smiled at him reassuringly, before taking a serious glance at the room which Mr. Kemp and 2 other people were resting in, "And of course, to our honorable detective, I will keep his condition under watch as well, that goes for when he wakes up."
Before Griffin can even say anything, Adye then suddenly added, "Oh, and do not fret for the invisible Mr. Squeaks, if the good Doctor hasn't healed up, I will personally make sure it is well fed!"
Adye was so caught up with everything going on with Griffin, perhaps he's used to being a caretaker? His brain must be working at high capacity.
"Tch, so he has been telling you about that little vermin, has he?" Griffin scoffed, but in a sarcastic and loving way towards the rat...or at least, I hope it's a rat, I'll take a rat discussion over any mentions of b-u-g.
"He is quite affectionate towards it, after all, you both take care of it together, don't you?" Adye teased. Griffin only let out a grunt with a blushing face.
After that, we took some time before the train departed to plan out our route more carefully for our hero quest. I took the opportunity to send a telegram to Raymond and Austin, who is left home-sitting my brother.
After the whole incident, we never found a fitting doctor to keep an eye on him, since he very much prefers Dr. Seward, who was still following Jonathan Harker.
And I couldn't send him back to Krystelle just yet, the tension hadn't let out, so us three have been in charge of him ever since.
I didn't see the issue, he's well behaved if you give him what he wants, but they both said that's going to spoil him too much and will not help him in the long run.
I don't see the problem with it, but maybe that's why I am the one who currently has no plan on having any children.
But since that is his and Raymond's conflicting mindset, I just hope my poor brother will fare well without me for a couple of weeks.
Chapter Text
Adrian Villiers' POV
We're not sure of what route that Jonathan would be taking, but Moreau said it was better for us to be safe and take our time planning things out rather than trying to intercept them. We are going to be walking into their territory after all.
Moreau started dividing up the large group into smaller ones. This was so we wouldn't be attracting too much attention, from the enemy or bystanders. Besides, moving in small group is a lot faster.
"Once we arrive there, we shall split into three teams, Montgomery and Villiers, you two are with me. Prendick will go with Morris and Miss Murray," he said.
Montgomery let out a small objection, "E-Eh? Why can't I be with Prendick?!"
"Miss Murray will be coming with us, do you really want to expose her to Villiers more than necessary?" Moreau argued, while I was right there. Rude.
"Why do you say that as if I would treat every woman like I do to Helen, a hell spawn? Do you guys think I am actually such a terrible human being?" I genuinely questioned. I thought I made it repeatedly clear that I only hate demon spawn in the shape of a woman, not the entire populace of female human. But apparently not.
"Hmph, that remains to be seen, I do not care for how you treat your demon either, but women are sensible creature, such a sight might cause her more discomfort than what we need," Moreau reasoned. I guess that makes emotional sense, that means that must be Van Helsing's idea.
Moreau then added, "Besides, our Prendick here is harmless looking, but he is strong."
Prendick's reaction was that of unamused, "So...I will be going with Miss Murray? Because I look the most harmless?" He asked sarcastically.
"Yes, it is also good for each team to have at least one meat shi-I mean, time travelers," Moreau quickly 'corrected' himself, but his expression didn't change the slightest bit.
Prendick didn't say a word, but Griffin did retaliate with a loud, "Fuck you!" So I think he spoke for all of our rights there.
Moreau, as usual, completely disregard objections, and continued on, "Van Helsing will be with Griffin, for the same reason as Villiers."
"What? Will she faint every time I fucking curse? Sheesh, how surprisingly kind of you to think so much of her, or perhaps so little of her maturity?" Griffin sarcastically jabbed at him. Well, concern and overbearing are just two sides of a coin, or so I've heard people say about their parent.
Anyway, Moreau did not say anything in response to Griffin.
Montgomery, with a noticeably lower volume, tried again to object his decision, "Then um, can't I just switch with Morris? I mean, shouldn't we at least have 1 medical team member on each team too while we're at it?" He reasoned, which isn't a bad argument, a balanced team setup is important in any team.
"If you two are together, you will not get any work done, Prendick is much more reliable when he's not with you," Moreau answered bluntly.
"B-But I-!" Montgomery's complaint was immediately shot down by one cold uncaring glare, and Montgomery immediately backed down like a scared child.
That is the predictable outcome, Montgomery was never one to win in an argument, probably not even with a barking chihuahua. Still, that's part of his charm, probably why Prendick is hiding his blushing face.
"Bu-But Prendick, will you be okay on your own?" Montgomery asked, worry written in his face. It's been a few years since I have met Prendick, and I have noticed his fear of being in public spaces alone, so his worry is rather warranted.
"I...Um...I do have Monty still," Prendick took the beloved doll version of Montgomery from his pocket. Monty has been a comforting presence, at least to Prendick, but in the end, it is only a doll, it can only offer so much and he knows that, "But if it's such a long travel...I might not be able to take it without you..."
As Prendick and Montgomery exchanged thoughtful glances, Morris interjected, "You don't have to worry, I'll make sure that all of you are as safe as a needle hiding in a haystack! I will stake my honor as a man on it!" He declared proudly as he puff up his chest.
Prendick was rather shocked at his brave declaration, or rather, he looked troubled at the sudden reassurance from Morris, but he thanked him regardless.
Montgomery, however, went and puffed out his cheeks like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts, he was obviously disgruntled, but he had no courage to object further.
I suppose the two really didn't want to be separated for long. I can understand, back when I was still in college, this exact scenario played out every time I got separated from my ever-reliable Herbert during mandatory team works.
"We'll only go with this team once we reach Transylvania, we just need to cover all angles possible to find the best entry point," Van Helsing explained further, to ease the separation issue, "After that, we'll reconvene to discuss our next move, it won't be for long."
Moreau moved closer to Prendick and Montgomery, whispering something like, "Alas, women are indeed sensible creatures, they can easily tell about your little rendezvous should you let your guard down."
I'm not really sure what they mean, but I guess people like them would have one or two secrets.
"Oh, come on, even so, it's not like she'll tell anyone...right?" Prendick did not end his statement confidently.
"Well, you tell me, you're the one with an older sister, do you trust her with any of your secrets?" Moreau rhetorically asked.
Prendick's face immediately scrunched up, as if remembering some bitterly shameful memories, "...You...You have a point..." he admitted with a sigh.
"Speaking of secrets," I interjected, being reminded of the fellow who glared at me when I arrived here. I didn't get a good look at him under the hood and night sky, but something about him reminded me of a dog, "Can I pat your fluffy friend outside, he was looking at me like he wants some head pats, I must oblige!"
All three of their eyes widened momentarily, before trying to act like it didn't. "No! He's going back home, right now," Moreau said in a hurry, then pointed to his assistant next to him, "Montgomery, I hope that you taught him how to get back."
Montgomery started looking visibly nervous and stuttering his reply, or rather, trying to push responsibility onto Moreau, "M-Me? Isn't that your job?!"
Moreau glared at him in annoyance and Montgomery immediately retreated into his shell like a turtle, "Right, after your failure with teaching him the scent of a gutted fish, I suppose I have to deal with everything myself," Moreau angrily said.
Van Helsing quickly swooped in and tried to remedy the situation, with his calming remedial presence, "N-Now, now, my friends, let's not quarrel about this in front of everyone."
All of that just because of a single secret, huh? It's a good thing I left Raymond behind, not because of the thought of him being caught like them, but he would probably not last a second interacting with a huge group of people like this. It would just be endless nervous stuttering and yelling in shock.
After that, the man was sent back home, patless, as ordered and Moreau continued to discuss more in depth of which route is better suited for which group. We also discussed what the groups are meant to do, what to do if we spot any signs of the enemy, and what to do if we don't.
All in all, it was a very thorough plan, from surface level anyway. I wonder what kind of plan will Jonathan Harker have in retaliation. He seems relatively smart, so he must know that our current plan would be the most likely plan.
...Well, I guess I can just leave thinking about outsmarting the outsmarting to Moreau, since he'll be with me.
Jean Montgomery's POV
After we boarded the train, we went separately on foot the rest of the way to Count Dracula's Castle. Luckily, we already know where it was roughly located after searching through Harker's law firm and also consulting his journal.
Some villagers we passed through tried to dissuade us from going, just like they did with Harker, calling the place a bad omen, but our reaction boiled down to "Uh-huh". After all, there's already a demon wench standing with us in this journey.
By the time the large castle was in our line of sight, the evening sky was already turning dark, so we decided to camp before we regrouped, making sure to encircle our camp with sacred waver to prevent a sudden ambush.
Though such a thing is useless against Atherton's brainwashed companions. Moreau volunteered to keep watch until morning arrives. Come to think of it, Moreau was never one to sleep a whole lot. To have so much brute energy with little sleep, what an envying sight.
All four of us, that is me, Moreau, Villiers and Vaughan, were staring at the crackling fire as our only haven in this cold white paradise.
Moreau's demeanor is as usual, cold and in deep thought. Meanwhile, Villiers was feeling rather jubilant at the fact that his demon companion was also affected by the wavers. Helen herself was more annoyed at his joy than being trapped.
But currently, we were all sitting a few feet away from each other in silence, not really saying or doing anything. Too tired to do anything, but not enough to sleep in this bitter cold.
Perhaps it's because we're not used to travelling with each other, but the awkwardness was suffocating to say the least, "So uh...We should be closing in on the castle, right?" I asked, just to make a conversation. Being with these two, it's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"So far it's been smooth sailing, too smooth in fact, I find it hard to believe that Harker of all people wouldn't lay traps or even have anyone on lookouts," Moreau replied cautiously, throwing a small branch into the blazing campfire to keep it alight, "There must be some reason."
"Maybe he's busy preparing for his goal, or something? Who knows how sly people like him think?" I said half jokingly. In truth, I am rather nervous, even if it'd be anti-climatic, I would prefer if we can settle this without having to engage a battle. I'm not exactly as sturdy as the two men in front of me, and especially not as sturdy as Villiers.
Helen chuckled, a rare occurrence, since she usually stays quiet behind Villiers when not addressed directly. She then suddenly asked a question with a wry smile, not hiding her condescending tone, "His goal? Wasn't it just to turn England into his personal playpen, or something childish like that?"
"That appears to be part of his full goal or maybe the two has no relation, we can't say, either way their goal is apparently to create a utopia," Moreau replied with what we've learned after that dastardly scuffle.
Lord knows I'm happy that I do not have to deal with the aftermath of explaining that to the uninitiated. My condolences to Colonel Adye.
"A utopia...Is such a thing even possible? Even with all of these supernatural monsters and talk of Gods or Demons, I still can't believe that either," I voiced my doubt.
Jonathan Harker, from everything Miss Murray told us, doesn't seem like the type to fall into such a radical belief, even if it's out of love or passion.
Besides, if the Count was only sealed by that ghost, then wouldn't Harker be trying to find him? That's what I would do if Prendick was sealed, goals be damned.
"The way he described his vision of a utopia seems to be an ideal world where only happiness exist, much like a dream...and it sort of is, right?" I asked that question to be rhetorical, but in truth, it's quite hard to tell. A few decades ago, I certainly wouldn't have believed the idea of supernaturals or turning beast into men.
"I agree, such a thing is impossible to begin with," Villiers stated, throwing the piece of branch he's playing with to the campfire, "No matter how much you sacrifice, some things just can't be change. Learning how to handle that kind of life is what life is all about."
"Indeed, true unlimited happiness in any form, materialistic or otherwise, cannot exist without some sort of drawbacks," Moreau added, his hand was firmly inside of his pocket, I think it's grabbing something, "To put it simply, even if such a method exist to create that world, the payment that must be given would as catastrophic to match."
"Maybe...the fruit will help do that...somehow?" I tried to theorize. We've pretty much learned everything we can about that fruit, even a genius like Griffin had looked at it, and we still came no closer than where we started.
We even asked the supernatural Helen before. Helen's power, as far as we can tell, is that she can do pretty much anything as long as we can give her something of value, an equivalent exchange.
Moreau likened it to a much broader and personal Alchemy, because these exchange all depends on who is making the deal. One can exchange a golden bean for a cow, but another might exchange a golden bean for 100 cats, things like that.
Villiers can wish for extra strength or such by sacrificing his health, but because he cares very little for his life and there is basically infinite amount of it, the result is not very beneficial for him, that's why he easily lost to Count Dracula.
Granted, this skill is much more valuable at information gathering. But even with all of that, she can't say anything of value about our current predicament, she's either hiding something or it really is nothing...or with that Ghost and Lord going around, maybe it's something even beyond her.
"Either way, now that we are caught up, there is only one place where we can find our answer, and that is where Harker is," Moreau concluded. He reached into his inner pocket to pull up his watch, he checked the time and closed it again, "Rest up, we'll reconvene with the other group first thing in the morning before we head in."
All of us agreed and tried our best to sleep in this condition...Or so I thought, but Villiers fell asleep almost instantly, I guess that's to be expected of him. Helen also fell asleep quite quickly without much trouble, despite her rather volatile nature.
There is this small fear within me that once I closed my eyes, that would be the last time I did. But eventually my body's exhaustion from the day long walk we did to get here overtook me and I fell asleep.
When I came to, I didn't feel the same cold wind that breezed through my body, freezing me to my core. Instead I felt the warmth of a soft bed and huge blanket covering my entire body.
"It's so warm..." I muttered, it was so comfortable that I wanted to go back to sleep and closed my eyes again. I can hear the birds softly chirping away, greeting the morning sky with a big hello.
My nose picked up the smell of something delicious, which almost made me want to fully wake up, "This...smell, it's so nostalgic, is Moreau cooking..." I wondered.
We didn't have much variance to eat on the island, but ever since we got back to society, he hasn't been cooking much in favor of Prendick's chef. Still, I do feel a bit nostalgic for his cooking, you can never beat homemade cooking.
As the scent lingered, my brain finally started working properly, trying to remember what exactly this delicious and familiar scent was.
I slowly came to the realization that this scent wasn't just any scent, not even Moreau's cooking, this was...something way more nostalgic, it's...
I fully opened my eyes, trying to figure out where I was through the dark and blurry room...Wait, Room? H-How did I get in a room? Wasn't I sleeping outside in the snow with Moreau and the others?
"Huh...this is..." My eyes finally focused as I looked around in a daze. This room I'm in wasn't just any ordinary room, this is...my room...when I was still living with him, "...my bed, in my house...and this smell is..."
It's been so long, but once I smelt it, I could always remember it, it was his signature dish that was cheap and quick to make...or at least, that's what he claimed. It was also...my favorite.
I looked down to my clothes, it was my old sleeping gown that I had thrown away once it got too worn down. Around my room, I can see the table I used to study on, my bed that's getting too small for my adult body. Every single thing in this room, once upon a time, was something he gave to me.
I jumped down from the bed and opened the door. All the memories of my childhood came rushing back to me, I had opened this door countless time, walked through the same hallway, headed to the kitchen, and...
"Hnnn~ Hnnnn~ hn~"
He...My father, would be there, cooking breakfast while humming some unknown tune to himself.
He seemed to have noticed me and said, "Oh, Jean, you're awake! Breakfast is almost ready, so come eat before we go out!" It was a line that could be said for any other morning I had with him, "We have a long day today, so make sure you eat your fill!"
Even if it was only his back that greeted me, even though I can't see his face, I recognize his graceful movement as he prepared the table for...for us both.
The warm light of the morning sun creeped in from the gaps between the curtain. The birds were chirping and flowers were blooming. It was a normal morning like any other, a normal morning of my old life, that is.
This smell, the smell of my favorite food, the chicken soup that only he knows how to make, I could recognized it from a mile away and run faster just to get it after a long day out in town.
A meal I hadn't had in more than a decade, this peaceful atmosphere, like nothing has gone awry covered the entire room, as if inviting me to sit down and forget my worries, and it was working so well.
"...F-Father?" I muttered under my breathe, unsure of the man in front of me was a hallucination. No matter how strongly I rub my eyes, the vision in front of me remained unchanged. I pinched my cheeks to no avail, the fair headed figure standing with his back towards me didn't vanish.
Was this...real? Was the vampire, the demons, the beasts, Moreau...even Prendick...were they all just dreams that felt too real? A figment of one of my more daring drunken escapades? Or...was this picturesque scene of happy ordinary life, was this the dream?
I...I can't even tell, everything felt real from the texture of the walls, the sound of morning crowd coming from outside the wall, to the feeling of safety and familiarity that can never be replicated anywhere else, no matter how hard I try.
Father suddenly chuckled, innocently, amusedly, as if he were teasing me as he usually did, "It's almost done, Jean, just be a good kid and have more patience, okay?" His voice, how long has it been since I heard it?
I felt at ease hearing his soft and gentle voice, I'd almost forgotten how softspoken he was before...before that day where he abandoned me and my trust in him. The memories are all flooding back to me, my chest aches, I felt like crying, why-why did he trick me like this?!
...B-But...that's all just a dream, isn't it? I mean, the father that I know would never...he would never trick to me like that...could he? Couldn't he...?...Whether it was possible or not...Whether this...was a dream or not...do I care if it is? I...I don't know.
But...But if the world where Prendick and the others are were the real ones...I, I can't just abandon them to a lying person that no longer exist, or maybe, have never even existed.
Before I could find the answer to my question, he finished setting up the table. But just as he was about to turn to me, there was a knock on the door. Who could it be? We rarely ever get visitors.
"Who could it be? Coming~!" Father yelled out in a sing song manner, humming all the way to the door. A rare scene in of itself, as there is not many people he would be so pleased to see, especially at our house.
He opened the door and from it emerged...a man?
"Oh my, you are indeed quite the beautiful man, your blonde hair is so fair as well," The man said. Those string of words sounded familiar to me as much as it irked me.
Wait...That silhouette, and that voice, I recognized it...
"V-Villiers?!" I exclaimed in surprise, while the man himself stood there unfazed by my bewilderment and continued to stare at my father like he was dumbfounded.
And just as I blinked in astonishment, everything around me vanished like they were never there to begin with, replaced by a pure white, before my senses registered it was in a stupidly cold snowy forest, "Oh my God! What the heck?! F-Father, where did he-HUH?!"
Villiers continued to be unfazed and instead pouted like a child denied his treats, "Awww, where did they pretty blonde man go? He was really my type," His excitement was so far beyond his usual fascination with blondes that it got my hair to stand up on end, the cold didn't help.
Of all the people, my father?! That guy?! Even if I have a complicated opinion of my father, to hear someone talk about him in that way. It made me feel that unique disgust that a child could only feel at the thought of their single parent being in a relationship.
Besides, Villiers may be an oddball, a recklessly self-confident weirdo, insane by all metric of normalcy, but surely even he has the common sense to...
Actually, he's friends with someone like Raymond, despite hating Helen...so maybe it's pointless to try and stop him.
I cleared my throat, "That was my FATHER, so don't talk about him like that, at least don't verbalize it in front of me if you want my sanity to be kept intact," Was the only warning I said, since anything more than expressing my disgust would fall on deaf ears anyway. More importantly, I questioned the situation we are currently in, "Also what the heck just happened?!"
Villiers turned to look behind him, that's when I noticed Helen herself was standing silently watching the event unfold before her.
She shrugged her shoulder in dismay and Villiers turned back with an annoyed expression, "Um, I think the easier explanation is that, it was a dream and someone interrupting it woke you up?" He said.
"Really...a dream, so that was all truly a dream," I repeated, still in disbelief. It was a believable suggestion, and probably is, but...it was just so real that I couldn't believe it was just a dream, "It just, it all felt really real to me, even though it was all so long ago, it felt like I really was just going through my old everyday life...when he and I were still...close."
"I see...My apologies that I ruined it," Villiers bowed his head in repentance. For once he actually showed some tact. I don't want to think about why, or rather, I shouldn't.
"No, it's okay...dreams should just stay a dream...peaceful, happy, but fleeting," I gripped my hand hard, to remind myself of the reality I'm in, to believe in the words I'm saying, "Because in real life, we can never go back to those kinds of days...not anymore for me anyway."
After a few deep breaths, I calmed down my nerves and realized that the already somber mood from the environment was probably boughed down even more with my past.
"Sorry, I brought the mood down, let's not talk about it since it's nothing to fuss about anymore, my current life isn't anything bad," I said. Villiers didn't really give any sort of wild reaction, he was just calmly listening to me.
I then felt the need to remind him of my privacy, "Speaking of which, can you not tell anyone about that, I prefer to tell them myself...if I have to." I added, as a clause of sort.
I don't know if I will ever gain the courage to do it out of my own will...but the past will catch up, one day, then whether I liked it or not, I will have to tell the truth.
"No problem," was all he said, he didn't push further than that. I can only hope he is as tight lipped as he hates liars.
Villiers then moved to a different topic, his tone was a far more melancholic one, "You and your father have a similar face."
I chuckled dryly, "So I've been told, by himself, of course," That reminds me, my father has always been very precise about how he looks, I always wondered if it was because he was hoping that one day, someone might return...
To avoid the thought, I try to change the topic as a comedic jab, perhaps that was his intention all along, "Wait, I told you to stop talking about him! What is with you and blondes?!"
"Hey, it's only very specific blondes that I talk about a lot, your father fits that specific!" Villiers declared, almost too proudly. I don't really want to know more of Villiers' weird taste.
Raymond, though we barely personally interacted, has always been the usual subject of his obsession with blondes, but from Villiers, that was almost a gesture of friendship than anything.
But in this case...I fear that he's almost too friendly. It wouldn't surprise me if an oddball like Villiers would casually talk about every aspect of his life and interest, as if it were a normal Tuesday and not something against the law.
"I don't care, just talk about something else! It's creepy!" I voiced my discomfort firmly.
Villiers sighed dramatically, "You know, I look and behave like this, but I'm about the same age as Moreau and Van Helsing, you know?"
I silently contemplated that he was indeed correct, he was that old. It's just that for some reason; everyone looks so young and beautiful regardless of age that I always forget whether or not they were almost twice my age! Curse their genetics!
My father, he should be around the same age bracket as well, so...in this instance, it's not really that odd if you don't factor in that they're both male, which…I cannot really fight back against. I begrudgingly admit defeat, "...Ugh, I guess, you have a point."
"Anyway, joke time is over, I'll move on as you have requested, instead let us focus on this bubble," Villiers said as if my emotional turmoil was nothing more than a slight breeze, but in fairness, he's right.
There was a rather huge bubble floating menacingly right next to where we are, specifically right where Moreau should be. Even his bubble looks intimidating, but this means that Moreau, the Moreau, was also trapped inside of it.
Villiers turned to Helen while pointing to the bubble, "Wench, are these bubbles...are they supposed to show us of our past?"
"Presumably, but do bear in mind we've only entered 2 of them, that isn't enough to conclude anything," Helen answered, quite straightforward.
"I see...in that case it is odd for me," Villiers said, putting his hand on his chin, "All the memory I was shown started from minutes before my death in the previous timeline, you would think it'd show me older things, like yours did."
That is pretty odd, "Oh, maybe it only shows traumatic things? Who knows, but the more important thing is to pop all these and make sure everyone is safe, right?" I spoke.
We do often ponder too long about things that we never seem to have answers for, it's always better to prioritize what's happening now. I mean, that's Moreau's job anyway.
Villiers nodded in agreement, "You're right, but do you think this situation is Jonathan Harker's intention? Because I don't see the point of it."
"True, what we experience doesn't exactly seem very...happy, or rather it's closer to say it's currently random," I pondered, as we discussed before, Harker wants happiness. If this is his way of doing it, Villiers' experience doesn't make sense, then I came to an idea, "It's possible he made a mistake in whatever he intended to do."
"That means, isn't it possible that he's also in here somewhere?" Villiers pointed out. I looked around the area, it was a barren field of nothing but snows and trees. Not a soul in sight.
It's hard to tell what time it is, given where we are, but it's definitely not night anymore, and our campfire has long since been put out. Nothing of interest was around but us and the bubble, it was eerily silent, I don't know if I should be glad or not.
"It's highly likely, who knows how far this domain stretches out, but we better get out of here quick, I don't want to know what will happen if we stay here for longer than we need," I answered, looking at the bubble in front of me. If this truly is Moreau's then...does that mean he'll be seeing his own past, his own happy times?
Moreau rarely ever talks about his past, even to Van Helsing. Just from how he looks, you can't even begin to guess what kind of life he's lived, if he's ever happy...or even if he's...human...
And now that we're forced to see it...I don't know what to feel, I know I feel both curious and dread. Villiers didn't see any of my worst from my dream, nothing that I can't just shrug off anyway, but I know Moreau is far more secretive about every aspect of his life, his best or otherwise.
"Well, the more we pop, the more likely we are to find something out," Villiers said, putting his hand on the surface of the bubble, causing a ripple.
That something is what I fear most. All I wish is that whatever it is we saw, it won't cause any strain in our relationship, not when things are finally becoming less, less suffocating for us.
Villiers entered first without an issue and Helen also followed with no problem. With a little bit of hesitation, I soon followed. Inside of the bubble was like a completely different dimension!
First of all, the inside was larger than the bubble could even be. Second, the cold was completely gone, in fact, there was a raging fire that was now burning hot greeting us violently.
I flinched back in shock, "F-Fire?! Hot, it's damn hot! I thought you said this was only a dream?!" I instinctively tried to fan it out, but it was no use, it didn't seem affected at all. Neither was Villiers.
Villiers walked up to the flames with no fear, as he would. There I was, thinking he was about to something ridiculous like challenge the flame into a fight.
Impressively, he finds a way to surprise me every time, because he nonchalantly shoved his hand directly into the flames as I let out a scream.
Villiers may be immortal, he may have high tolerance to pain, but he can still burn if the flames spreads out and there is no way in hell I want to witness that!
But to my shock, nothing happened to his arm, when he pulled it out of the flame, there was no fire, no burn, no singe, no anything!
"It's hot, but it's not actually burning anything, it's like a set piece to make it seem more realistic," Villiers concluded, like he was a researcher who discovered the meaning of life.
"Oooh..." Even in my amazement, I contemplated about the fact if he was too reckless or too curious, after all, he couldn't have known for sure it wouldn't burn, or maybe I'm just not fearless enough to keep my cool like he does?
I sighed at my own lack of emotional control, "I think I'm way better fit to being an assistant after all."
"An assistant is important work too, they're there to help keep each other focused, differing personality helps with getting ideas, that is how innovation works," Villiers attempted to console me, which I guess I'll take since it was...good advice, actually.
He quickly brought attention back to what we're dealing right now, "Do you know anyone who has a trauma regarding fire?"
"From our group?" I thought about it, and my first thought would be Prendick's past experience in Timeline A or what occurred in Dr. Seward's asylum, though he never showed issues specifically to fire itself after, and also there was another piece of observation, which I told Villiers, "Could be Prendick, but this place doesn't look like our Noble Isle's enclosure."
Looking carefully around the fire, we might be in a storage room of some kind? There were multiple racks which has fallen to its side like a monster just rampaged through. On the ground, there were files, books, papers, and some glass beakers that were broken to pieces.
We went up to see if there was any clues written, but there were only straight black lines all over where the words should be, as if someone meticulously censored it. So perfectly too, it was almost inhuman. Perhaps that is another byproduct of the "dream bubble", just set dressing with no actual importance.
Suddenly Villiers voice alerted me, "Someone's there!" He said, pointing towards an opened door at the other side of the storage. There was visible light dimming and shining, so that room probably had "fire" in it too.
As we got closer, we heard a small voice coming through it, they were clearly sobbing, "Father..."
Helen then suddenly chortled, I assume she is amused at the notion someone is in pain, "So how many people here have father issues?" She mockingly asked.
"How many of us don't? We're predominantly men, I'll be more shocked if none of us have one," I stated back, sort of half-jokingly and half because she irritated me.
But well, it is more likely for men to have problems with their father rather than mother, or so I have been told. I don't have a mother so I wouldn't know. And Helen doesn't have either, she's technically adopted...and a demon spawn.
Villiers nodded, "That's true."
"You have father issues too?" I questioned in shock.
"Not really, I don't remember having any problem with my father, I was being polite because I have nothing to add," He stated, as monotone as he usually is, but I can tell that was a pitiful attempt at a dry joke. It's hard to tell who's worse at it, Moreau or him.
"Oh, how nice," I dryly replied, just to be polite.
The voice continued on as we opened the door slightly, trying to not suddenly alert whoever it is. Finally, we saw someone sitting in the middle of the room, their back to us. "...on...don't be like me...go...you want...you're...free..." I heard someone whispered.
They were wearing some kind of white dress, the back had an eye catching golden-colored ribbon and pin, which looked like an apple. It caught my eye first that I didn't notice they were holding something...or rather, someone.
The person in white was sitting, cradling another wearing what appears to be a bloodied lab coat. The person in white was clearly overwhelmed with emotion that they were yelling, "Don't you dare die! After all you've done, don't think you can just wash it all away by running away from your crimes," They paused to wipe their tears, but we had no idea what they were talking about, "Wipe that self satisfied grin off your face, you coward irresponsible bastard!!"
I finally remembered that this was supposed to be Moreau's dream bubble, or at least should be. This voice...it sounded similar to Moreau's, but it lacked the usual coldness or callousness, it was so filled with emotion, and the intonation they used...It made it sound more like a child.
We finally decided to move beyond the door, even though it's a little awkward scene to be walking into, and there was basically nothing to cover us from him. Once we got close, we could tell immediately it was Moreau, with his dashing silver hair.
He was crouching with his back turned, but I can tell appearance wise that it's the same exact Moreau I've always known since I first met him. But despite that he gave off a different image than what I was used to, and not just because of his appearance or showing of emotion.
It was the fact he was so distraught that he didn't notice us at all. Whoever this person in his lap is, he clearly cared for them so much, he didn't care if there was someone sneaking up or if the building is on fire.
Not even with Van Helsing, or even Count Dracula catching him off guard, has he shown such a loss of control over himself.
The other person replied to them, weakly and barely audible compared to the sobbing Moreau, but it was a man's voice. He put his hand on Moreau's head, he sounded as of he wanted to say more, but in the end, all he could say was, "I'm...sorry..."
I instinctively knew then, that person was probably his father, the father Moreau would harshly criticize to no end if you had ask him about it now. Yet, that Moreau once cried like a child losing that very father.
His father sounded like he had so much more to say, but either he can't find the right words or he's...out of time, "...thank...you..." that was all they said, before their hands fell to their side
"Love is such a weird thing, isn't it? Even when a person you know is the worst person, if they treated you with love before, it makes it hard to see them as the villain everyone sees, regardless if it's true or not," Villiers stated and I agreed, it is hard for a child to truly hate someone, at least for me and my father because to me, my father was all I had.
Despite remaining the same in the outside, I can feel a sort of sadness and regret behind Villiers's gaze towards the sobbing Moreau, though I wonder if he himself noticed it. Maybe we all here had some stories regarding our parents.
"Sounds like a human problem, I never felt that way to any of you!" Helen snappily added, even though no one asked, ruining that melancholic mood that Villiers set up.
He quickly slapped her in the face, earning her whispered complaints. It was not as strong of a slap as he would have wanted, I'm sure.
Moreau still sat there in disbelief, he continued to hug the lifeless body, not wanting to let go, "No, please...I don't want to leave, something like me don't have a place out there, who will accept me when I have this face?!"
Moreau was crying and grieving like a normal person would, it's not a scene I ever expected to see, let alone get used to. Is this why he became the way he is? Is his distant and cold attitude just his way of coping with his pain, to prevent another loss of control?
To prevent losing another person?
I hesitated to approach him, I knew that this was all just a lingering memory, and we don't even know what Harker is planning, "Should we...go to him now?" I inquired to Villiers, when I realized he was not next to me anymore, "H-Huh?"
Helen Vaughan was still by my side and she simply sighed, pointing to where Moreau was sitting. To my shock, Villiers was somehow already there, while I was watching and everything!
"Hey, Doctor, wakey wakey, it's time to fight a crazy vampire man again," Villiers said, I suppose he was working with the same shock factor that woke me out before.
Well, Moreau was shocked all right, but he was not awake, as the burning world around us remained intact. Does that show that...even faced with such a painful memory, he would rather stay here with his father?
Would this had happened to me too had Villiers not snapped me out of it? If I had just wished for my father to stay like Moreau did? Did me choosing to run away from him...was it the right choice that saved me from being trapped like this?
Moreau was taken aback with fear and crawled a few distance away, he was still holding his father tightly, "Wh-Who are you?! Stay away from me, I'll-I'll-!!!" He pulled out a scalpel from his father's pocket and aimed it right at Villiers, who stood there with his head tilted in confusion.
I came out of my hiding spot and tried to be more direct with him, "M-Moreau, it's just us! Calm down, this is just a dream, it's not real!" I yelled at him.
Moreau turned to look at me, "D-Dream...I...what?" He looked down towards his father's body, "T-That's right, you, you're dead, you've been dead...for so long," He muttered something of the sort, and only then did the fiery world around us crumble, being replaced by the cold snowy forest again.
When we regained our bearings, Moreau was still sitting on the ground, now wearing the same look we saw him last, with only his white coat and a scarf to shield him from the cold.
His hands were still in the shape of holding something dear that he lost, to which he immediately ceased doing when he realized it.
His eyes were no longer the eyes of grief and sadness, but his usual cold and distant one, it was the Moreau I always knew.
He was silent for a few more seconds, before finally realizing what had happened without prompting and glancing out rather furiously, "...What did you two witness?"
He was understandably angry, I too never wanted to show my past to someone in this way, but my fury would be nothing compared to whatever torture Moreau can come up with in his House of Pain.
"N-Nothing much, we just got here and saw you crying, r-right, Villiers?!" I tried my best to deflect the situation, even if it was an obviously terrible attempt, Moreau will probably let it go if we never bring it up again.
But then I remember my fellow witness is Adrian Villiers, the man who has no filter regarding his opinion and refuses to lie.
The brutally honest Villiers let out a chuckle that sends chill down my spine and I knew any of my attempts will fall flat.
"Heh. Daddy's boy," Villiers smugly teased, and in a flash, Moreau threw a scalpel directly into his heart with no hesitation, and turned away from him without a care as Villiers loudly fell to the ground with blood spurting out of his chest.
I was stunned for a moment at the horrendous scene I was shown, as Helen laughed out loud, something about how he deserved that for being an idiot. I quickly recalled he can quickly regenerate as soon as the scalpel is removed, so I did that.
He woke up with no further reaction to his demise other than satisfyingly declaring, "That was worth it."
Moreau loudly exhaled, I can tell from the way he pulled back his hair that he was in a foul mood, so foul that he couldn't even verbally insult us, and Villiers' teasing attitude wasn't helping.
"If that's all you witnessed, then let us move on from this...juvenile conversation, explain," Moreau ordered, and I immediately complied, with some...um, fearful stutters when he glared, explaining what we had learned so far. Villiers graciously decided to stay silent this time.
By the time I was done, Moreau's mood had gotten a bit better, "I see, so far it seems that past memory with strong emotions seems to be the driving force behind the dream," he concluded.
"Except for me, I didn't find it that remarkable," Villiers added.
"Your death isn't remarkable?" I asked, though it was mostly sarcastic, Villiers is someone who would just casually wake up from sure death.
"I have way more remarkable memories, like that time Austin and I were riding on an air balloon and then I fell-Augrh!"
Moreau's current low patience quickly cut Villiers off, literally, by slicing him in his neck. Blood burst out of his neck like a geyser, and I let out a scream, but Moreau was not the least bit perturbed, "Right, I'm not the least bit interested, put the moron aside as a variable."
Villiers also didn't react to that at all, other than simply pulling out his handkerchief, wiping the blood on his neck and mouth as the wound closed, then putting it back in his pocket as if nothing happened. His mind operates at a completely different wavelength.
"Wh-What do you think about all of this, Moreau?" I asked, trying my best to divert his frustration elsewhere. As much as I envy Villiers' immortality, I very much don't want to be desensitized to watching someone being killed over and over again.
"If we consider Harker's sentiment, it makes a lot more sense," Moreau answered, his expression softened ever so slightly, "If we had never been woken up, then we would stay in that one moment that we wanted to for all time, as long as we don't wake up."
"W-Well, when you put it that way, it does make some sort of sense, anyone would wish for the daily peace," I quickly answered, just to say something.
This was one of the most tense moment I've ever been in. Imagine seeing your boss' dark past and then your friend won't shut up about it. It's like waiting on a ticking bomb to explode!
"Moreau's wasn't very peace-" Villiers didn't get to finish that as Moreau threw another scalpel at him, "Wow, that was my lung."
Helen laughed out loud again, "This is what karma is defined as, uncle!" She declared.
Now Villiers' mood quickly turned soured, and he plucked out the scalpel on his chest to stab Helen with it on her shoulder, "This is what causality is defined as, brat!" He declared back.
If it weren't for the foul stench of blood, I could mistake this scene for a very amazingly produced theatre show. Sadly, it was all very real, very serious, very nauseating, and the participant are all too insane to spare my nightmares.
The only positive thing in this situation is that Prendick is not here to see this violence galore, for a second there, I forgot we were all supposed to be humans, or at least on the somewhat good side.
"Either way, we wouldn't know until we find the source of this thing," Villiers said. As if the trauma he indirectly inflicted on me was nothing more than a childish prank. Whatever, it's Villiers, best to just get over it, right?
"You think there's a source?" I asked him, trying to hide my negative inflictions.
"Well typically if you kill the caster of the magic, the magic won't exist anymore, right?" Villiers responded, admittedly making sense.
Moreau didn't say anything, so I suggested a plan of action instead, "That's true, but we should probably start by freeing others and regrouping, right?"
"So, do you want to bet 20 shillings on if the next is Prendick?" Villiers poked the hornet nest again, only to get stabbed in the head with another scalpel, "That was my brain."
Moreau could have spit on his face and it would have been more merciful than the murderous look he's giving right now, "Good, there's probably nothing in there to bleed anyway."
So this is what it's like to witness a murder...haha...I need help.
Villiers took everything with expression as dead as it's always been, but judging from his demeanor and reaction, I'd say he's having the time of his life learning of Moreau's weakness, as if it were a friend teasing about a crush they have.
After all of that, Moreau then began to walk without informing us of anything like he is usually apt to do, but I assume we are heading to the nearest camp location of another group to survey the situation. The nearest would be...Prendick's group, if I recall.
As we walked across the thick white snow, the murderous aura remained strong and I had to stayed at least 10 steps away, lest I feel like I'd be caught in the middle of it. Unlike Villiers, I have precisely 1 life to spare.
Villiers, bless the Heavens, decided to finally shut up and walked right beside me with Helen behind him, she was also very quiet, but that's normal for her who knows what kind of things she's actually thinking.
Truly, rocks don't even fit the situation anymore, I am trapped between tsunami and an avalanche.
With only the winds and snow as our noisy companion, I regarded Villiers with some small talks, albeit in a whisper, out of fear of angering Moreau, "So, Villiers...what do you think about all of this...dream utopia thing?"
Villiers raised his brow at me, "Why are you asking me? Hath me injuries not shown you what opinions I have?" He proudly showcased his bloodied outfit, having no time to change to his second spare.
"Well, I mean...I'm not asking Moreau when he's trigger happy like that," I whispered back at him, "And besides, you are clearly operating on a different plane from us, I was just wondering what kind of perspective you have."
Villiers wasn't really bother with my jab, I'm sure he has heard worse, and instead obliged my curiosity to the best of his ability, "Hmm, as Murray told us once, Jonathan Harker's plan does seem very well planned at some place and haphazardly planned on the other, his sanity is clearly all over the place, as if he himself is not sure of what he wants to do."
I listened attentively to what he said. Moreau always said it's best to review information you have by having conversations like this, you know, if he was in his normal mood. So far Villiers' logic seems sound.
Villiers continued, "Even this situation right now, whatever his original intention was about this dream world, happiness or otherwise, I don't think letting us escape and wander so freely would be part of his plan, yet there is nothing so far to disturb us. It's weird."
So far, I was in agreement. Indeed, our situation has always been messy, but that's a given, no plan is ever going to go the way you think.
However, this one seems way too all over the place, not even our so called utopia share a common attribute other than showcasing some time of our past.
Then Villiers concluded his theory, "Perhaps it is likely that this whole situation is or has gone out of even his control, maybe he's finally lost even his sanity."
I agreed, but then I came to quite an alarming thought, "If he did indeed lost control, then wouldn't that mean...there's chance of the bubble being an absolutely dangerous place to be in and can explode at any moment?!" My head immediately went to the worst-case scenario, my poor Prendick, my poor Prendick!!!!!
Villiers reacted as calmly as he does to my fear, "The chance of that certainly isn't 0, but we are lacking information to conclude anything, we can only do what we have been doing."
"Right, as usual," I sarcastically pointed out, it is the truth after all, we're always reacting because we never know what the heck is going on. I sighed, "Man, if only one of them would just talk to us, maybe we wouldn't have to deal with so many problems."
"That is how people works, not even you told Prendick about the purpose of the animals were back then. It's the same thing," Moreau suddenly added. The one time he spoke in this entire journey, and of course, it's to insult me.
"Urgh, I guess so," I nervously scratched my head, I am too well aware that I lack any backbone to talk back to Moreau, so I focused the topic onto Villiers instead, "You um, seem to have a complicated past for a guy who sells clocks..."
"Whatever I work as doesn't define me as a person after all, a job is a job," Villiers vaguely replied. Come to think of it, he has a unique case of amnesia on top of memory overwriting. I suppose someone like that would probably have quite the backstory you'd regret to ask.
While I was mulling about what kind of man could Villiers be, he changed the topic on me again, "Speaking of dark side, you father, he's beautiful!"
I felt a shiver down my spine, "I told you not to go back to that, why do we keep going back to that? Is your personality just being a brutally honest numbskull who does whatever he wants and likes blondes?!" I yelled angrily at him, more than any trauma, I'm more ashamed than anything.
"Please, just this once, if my past ever catches up to me, please swear you will never ever think of flirting with my father!" I begged him, with my whole heart, I would be on my knees if the snow wasn't so cold!
Just imagine if my father and I finally crossed paths again, and this guy is constantly flirting with him. I'd rather be dead than withstand such an embarrassment to have even be associated with him!
Villiers suddenly exudes the aura of a romantic poet, expressing his deep feeling of love and he spoke like he was, like he was insulting me, "It was only a brief and fleeting moment, but I have never felt such tighten squeeze in my heart as I looked upon his jaded yellow eyes, like a star falling from the sky, shining to the brim with its last burst of beauty before fading away into nothingness."
"LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I CAN'T HEAR YO-Oof!!" In my haste to escape my torment, I bumped my face right into something broad and soft. No sooner than later did I realize my folly, out of the torment and into the house of pain, "...H-Heeey, Moreau...haha...what's going on?"
I was prepared for an earful or at least a deadly glare filled with disappointment, but he simply turned back and gestured for us to look, "We've arrived at...well, somewhere, at least now you both can shut up."
I breathe a sigh of relief even with his snide comment, that I was spared from any further suffering, that we have found Prendick's crew, and that we've reached the end of our long awkward silent walk. God Bless!
"The bet is still on, by the way," Villiers reminded us, with a confident look of an all-or-nothing gambler on his brow.
"If it is Prendick, then certainly Prendick's memories will be something much more interesting, there is a chance that the Ghost might be involved after all," Moreau then clenched his fist so hard that I can see his veins popping through his gloves, "And if he is, I'll drag him out and finally have him stop speaking in riddles, I'm getting quite tired of this."
"B-But what about Prendick's safety?" I whispered with the amount of courage I have left...which is close to none.
"Say it louder, I don't think he heard you," Villiers pointed out, for once I can feel the emotion in his words...it's that of disappointment.
"Of course, I'll save Prendick if he's hurt! J-Just Moreau is scary when he's mad," I twiddled my finger nervously.
"Then let me ask. Who is scarier, your father or Moreau?" Villiers asked.
The answer was obvious, "Moreau, of course."
"I see," was all that Villiers said in response, his eyes looking at me with pity.
Notes:
Montgomery and Moreau has daddy issues, the saga, continues.
The webtoon webnovel version is catching up quick because I've been slacking LMAO
Chapter 3: Chapter 2 (1893, Night)
Chapter Text
Edward Prendick's POV
After we separated from everyone, we scoured the snowy forest by our lonesome, and I do mean it, for there was not a single soul that crossed our path, except for critters.
Finally as we saw the castle in the horizon and the sun starting to set, we set our camp per Moreau's instruction, trying to settle ourselves in this unwelcoming condition.
I noticed that Miss Murray was looking rather down, so I called out to her, thinking maybe she was tired and cold, "Miss Murray, are you feeling okay? Would you like another layer of clothing?"
She shook her head to the side politely, but her expression was still very grim, "No, I'm fine, Mr. Prendick, it's just...I am still so confused, why would Jonathan do all this for? Is he unhappy with something? He never gave that kind of impression to me, not to the level of such drastic measure..."
I didn't have anything to say that can comfort her, after all, my opinion of Harker is...contrarian to what she needs to hear, and that's not going to help. I looked over at Morris and he didn't know what to say either.
None of us could really relate to what she could be feeling, so we let Miss Murray spill out her worries, "He never used to be hard to read, not to me at least, he wasn't a violent man either...makes me truly wonder if I had ever known Jonathan at all...perhaps, I have failed as his fiancée and friend."
"Come on now, that's not your fault, everyone has secrets or two, even from their loved one or family," I said, reminding myself that I have to hide the fact Moreau and Montgomery are outcast at best, and criminal at worst, "...Not everyone is crystal clear, in the end we're all weak and fragile creatures prone to mistakes."
"...I see...Jonathan...I wonder what he is like, truly, why is he on the opposing side and yet, he claims he still loves me, he still loves everyone, I don't know what to think anymore..." Miss Murray trailed off inside of her confused mind. There was no answer or theory I can give to cheer her up, so I stayed quiet.
Until the current silence idling reminded me of something, "By the way, speaking of this, Moreau's reading reminded me of something, when I first thought about his name, Harker's name..." I paused, unsure if I should ask her about this, but she was the one most privy to Harker's activities in the past.
"Yes?" She looked at me patiently, waiting for me to clarify.
It's all or nothing! I began explaining, "You see, a memory popped into my brain at the time, I'd forgotten all about it, because it was so long ago and I hadn't had time to refresh it. I must have wanted to ask Harker directly about it and you know how that went, but you two have been with each other since childhood, right?" I asked to confirm my memory keeping is still as good as before.
"We have, but a memory is quite vague. What kind of memory was it?" She asked for more details.
"Umm, let me think...well, when we were children, Jonathan was always the studious type, but he does have his childish moments, he would often tease me specifically."
"Aww, because he has a little crush on you?" Morris teased with a knowing grin, causing Miss Murray to blush as red as a tomato.
I have never personally experienced it, but my sister said it's a common thing for boys to tease girls they like because they want their attention. I suppose it's part of a lot of young boy's psychology.
"Ma-Maybe," she said nervously before looking down towards the snow melancholically, "But it could be that he thought I looked lonely, after all...I was an orphan."
The mood immediately became awkward, "Oh, I'm...sorry," I said, trying to remedy it.
Mina let out a sad smile, "No, it's okay...but you're not wrong, even I could see that he did back then and I liked him back, we always meet with each other any day we can, he was very kind and gentle to me...like he always had been." She said the last thing wistfully.
"I see..." I said, and quickly attempted to change the topic, "Well...you know how he talked to me like we were friends, right? I don't really recall anyone like him that I've ever interacted with, so I was just wondering."
Mina thought seriously about my inquiry, "I see, it certainly would be odd for you to have met, at least in any educational circle, since you both are in different fields. Though, maybe it's possible you have met in other circles?" She questioned.
I shook my head, "Probably not, I'm not one to stay in a circle for long if at all, besides, he talks to me with such familiarity, I don't think that would happen if we just met for a few months..." I trailed off
Because as Villiers' tale had demonstrated, there's a chance of my current life changing significantly, but their memories were overwritten with mine when I time travelled.
But that doesn't make sense either, as Jonathan should have experienced that very same thing, so if it's not timeline A or B, then it's likely that it had something to do with the truth of this world they speak so frequently about.
...I get why Moreau talks so much, it must be hell trying to keep up with all of this information swirling in his mind.
"Hmm, I'm sorry I couldn't be any more help, but I will certainly help you look into it, should we return home..." Mina said, to all of our disappointment, but it can't be helped, if the answer was so easy, we wouldn't be spending years and years on this quest.
Quincey then opened his pocket watch and checked the time, "Alright you two, it's already pretty late, so go get some rest. Remember that we're meeting with Moreau's group first thing in the morning to strike," he said seriously, before cheekily adding, "Wouldn't want him to throw another fit and strike down another poor helpless gate."
"Heh, true," I chuckled, before regarding Miss Murray again, "Try to have some rest, Miss Murray, we'll be outside if you need anything."
She nodded and took rest in one of the nearby trees, as much rest as she can get in a snowy forest anyway. I moved closer to Quincey to give her some private space.
Quincey then spoke to me, "You can take it easy too, Prendick, Montgomery entrusted me with your wellbeing after all," he suddenly paused, "Though rather, I feel like you're far stronger than I am!"
"Well, I appreciate the thought, the compliment is probably more well served for the ghost," I said nervously. If it weren't for that, I doubt I can be stronger than Quincey, an actual cowboy.
I moved towards a tree nearby Quincey, just in case there was an emergency that needs me to wake up quickly, "I'll take the advice though, good night, Morris."
I closed my heavy lid eyes, I guess I was a lot more tired than I thought, because Quincey's voice sounded muffled when he bid me goodnight
"Sweet dreams, partner."
...
..
.
Sounds of beautiful classical music were drowned out by the small meaningless chatter covered the entirety of the hall, where patrons carry their expensive glass or expensive champagne and what not.
Truly, it was a scene that I always dread to partake in, but one that cannot be helped. For the sake of rising up, you must first please the other with a display of superiority, as mockingly hollow as it is.
Not dissimilar to insects doing a mating dance, in fact, I'd say insects are preferable, as they do not pretend to be more grand than what they are. The other thing humans and bugs share are they're so easy to kill, sadly, not in this affair.
Why did I even come here for if I think this is just a waste of time, one might wonder. Well, the answer is simply the innocence of the quality food displayed, it was probably the only thing spared from my wrath regarding the burden of higher-class status.
Nobody cares whether or not I'm here anyway, so as long as I keep quiet, eat my fill, fulfill my obligations, and go home, I'd be satisfied in saying it was time well spent. That is until I sensed someone approach me with light steps.
"Good day, you're here alone?" A man's voice said, despite my back being turned towards him.
As he was not leaving, I came to the despairing conclusion he was indeed talking to me. I begrudgingly turned to face him to greet him, "Hmm, yes, hello, what do you need?" I said with an obviously fake polite smile.
He smiled, ignoring my flaccid attempt at batting him away, "Ahaha, I want to spread my wings a little bit today, with nothing to chain me to the world, this is my last chance after all!"
I was honestly only half paying attention to what he was saying, so I used the tried-and-true method as a response, "Last chance?"
He responded by chuckling at me, "Yes, you see, I plan to fully commit myself wholeheartedly to one woman in the future, the love of my life ever since we were young, that is why this party is also my last chance of freedom I will have for the rest of my life"
"You say that like you will be chained to her for eternity, but I suppose that is marriage," I said sarcastically, but I was really hoping the conversation will reach its end soon.
"Ahaha, she is lovely, mind you, I do not have anything to speak bad about her, it is more of my own personal satisfaction, yes, quite like a last big feast before heading to the battlefield," He declared. I couldn't care less if he wants to have an open relationship or whatever, what does it have to do with me?
"Sounds like fun," I tried hard to sound as dry as I can be to voice my absolute disinterest.
"You are not interested in marriage?" He asked me.
"No," I answered, hoping he'd just go away at this point.
"How frank," he definitely noticed my disinterest by this point, yet he continued to converse with me, "Ah, may I call you by your first name?"
I was getting rather tired at his insistence, common courtesy should have told him from the first "no" that I was no longer interested in faking any more small talks.
I smiled a fake smile and said in the most passive aggressive tone I could, "Will it be for goodbyes? If so, then yes."
The man however seems to be either very dumb or very numb to consequences, he continued to talk to me without a care, "Ahaha, you are not a fan of talking, huh?"
"I'm not a fan of being interrupted during meals," I answered bluntly.
"Or are you feeling discomfort because you're curious of why I'm being so friendly with you?" He said, straight to the point, not that I was curious, more so...murderous.
"Let us not beat around the bush, you knew exactly why I would approach you when you give out that inapproachable aura," I fail to see his so-called obvious point.
But I need not verbalize my confusion, since he soon explained it to me, "You see, I am a fan of thrills myself, a little danger here and there, a little adrenaline rush to keep your spirit going, that is what I meant by personal satisfaction, a peaceful married life won't give me that."
Ahh. I have absolutely no clue what he is talking about, or so I thought. There is one thing that comes to mind of what he could be talking about. If it is that, then how did he even know about it? Is he a threat?
I mulled over my thoughts, deciding to continue playing him for the fool and use it as a great excuse to leave a party I was not enjoying anyway, "I'm not in any position to do whatever it is you think I want, why don't you try someplace e-"
He suddenly grabbed me by my shoulders, and I instinctively grabbed his arm and pulled it away, holding it in position so that it would painfully disarm him...Only...he wasn't holding anything.
We stared into each other's eyes for a bit as I tried to read his intention, but I had a feeling that what I just did merely proved whatever theory he had correct, as his expression declared such glee at my murderous intent.
I clicked my tongue, his expression disgusted me, and I let his hand go with a harsh throw. He began rubbing his hand and then looked at me with a mischievous grin, "Edward, you feel the same as me, don't you? A little bit of mischief won't hurt anyone, right?"
He knew about it, we both knew each other knew, but so what? He had no concrete proof to show me and I wasn't about to bend to the will of a stranger, "I refuse to say anything more." I turned my back towards him, "Please stay away, it's for your own sake," I tried warning him.
He stood there silent for a while, before finally chuckling, "No, that is my fault, my apologies, this never happened," he said with a bow, though I sensed not a single sincerity in his display.
A man's voice suddenly called out near me, seemingly directing it to my rude guest, "Hey, Jonathan! The supervisor's looking for you!"
"Ah, yes, coming!" 'Jonathan', the rude guest, responded and he quickly waltzed on to the direction of the voice.
Finally left to my own devices, I decided to head back home. Not only was that party now absolutely horrid to me, but I'm also certain that 'Jonathan' will continue to poke around my business now that I have confirmed his suspicions.
I have no clue what he wanted, but if what he was saying had anything to do with it, then I presumed he wanted to join the group...for such petty reasons.
Our faction isn't made for something like gratification or teenage rebellion; it's not a child's game. One wrong move, then you'll either spend the rest of your life in pain or die before you can even achieve your dreams.
And besides...It's best if everyone stays out of my life, it's far better that way...
After all, I was born to hunt down beasts and I must continue to hunt them all. Now that I've stained my hands red, I can never know peace anymore, only the end, that's the only fate these hands can bring to life.
And once it does arrive, I have to make sure that I remain alone, so I will drag no one else.
I am...
"Prendick!"
"Huh?" I turned around to the sound of a man's voice, a familiar voice, and was greeted with two pair of hands hugging me so lovingly.
"...J-Jean...Montgomery?" I said in shock, and it was like I was waking up from a stupor, my surrounding world of lavish ballroom broke down, revealing the snow filled forest behind it as the coldness of winter quickly swooped in without mercy.
Everything that seemed natural to me before suddenly became foreign, as it should, I couldn't comprehend why I had done all of that and what I was even referring to!
But all of my doubts swirling within me, and the coldness of pure white snow, were washed away by the warm embrace from Montgomery and slowly did everything that happened came back to me.
Moreau, Montgomery, and Villiers, all took the time to briefly explained what has been going on. Moreau ended it with a question of intrigue, "Was that memory truly yours, Prendick?"
"Well, I actually...I thought it was, until you guys wake me up, because now I don't recall any of the scene I just saw," I chuckled nervously, "But the line that he said was very similar to what I remembered 3 years ago! The one I wrote down in my journal!"
"Really? Then it's possible that this is how you actually first met Harker," Moreau theorized.
I had immense doubts in it being the truth, but for all my doubts, I am not certain of it being untrue either, "It sure looks like it, but...I don't remember it at all, in fact, something feels off."
Montgomery also raised his doubt, "I felt it too, I mean, we saw a bit of what happened but...the way Prendick acted is a little bit different. He's a lot more vocally aggressive and rather somber in his tone, in a way that is more...arrogant."
I lit up at how Montgomery knows me so well! I was so happy in the inside, but I try not to let it show, "You think so too? I wonder if it's because it's a dream, I mean, we all act different in dreams sometimes."
"Perhaps that is the answer then, that these bubbles merely cause one to dream, and even if based on reality, the fact is that dreams are unpredictable and unreliable in nature," Moreau speculated, "But the more important problem is if this Harker's intention or is it merely a byproduct of a failure. To answer that, we must find him."
While we were all silently pondering what to do, we heard Villiers say, "Hmmm? A blonde?"
"What?" I instinctively questioned him.
"I just saw a blonde passed by, I think," Villiers said while looking around for the aforementioned blonde.
Montgomery sighed, "I swear to God and the whole pantheon of Heaven itself, if you're still on about my father!" He yelled out angrily that his face turned red, not that I had a clue what he was angry about.
Villiers, however, paid him no mind and merely dragged Helen Vaughan forcibly using his rope, "I'll chase after them," he said before departing.
"Ah hey! What about finding Harker, hey!!" Helen Vaughan tried to appeal to him, if only to spare her being dragged into his antics, but it was a fruitless endeavor against him.
"Shall we chase after him or should we go on our own?" I asked Moreau, even though I pretty much already knew the answer.
"He has a demon by his side and functional immortality, if anything, we're the ones who need him as our meat shield," Moreau replied, but to my surprise, he followed up with, "Let's chase him, in 3 years, he hasn't led us astray yet."
And thus, we followed Villiers' antics. I don't know if he actually did saw someone, but I hope he did, for everyone's sake, because Moreau doesn't look like he's patient enough for his jokes this time around.
"Phew," I heard a sigh of relief from behind a large rock. So, there was someone after all.
And right on cue, Villiers didn't waste any time to scare the poor soul. He climbed up the rock to approach them and said, "Hey."
"KYAA!!" The poor soul screamed in genuine fear and ran out from behind the rock but was unfortunately cut off from their escape by me and Moreau.
"Why did you run? Who are you?" Moreau immediately questioned them. Now that I can look at them closely...I still have a lot of difficulty determining if they are a girl or boy.
They were wearing a long, elegant night gown and their long orange locks flowed freely in the cold snowy wind, giving them a very effeminate look at a glance, but there were parts of them that seem to subconsciously tell me that they could also be a man.
Though right now, their gender is probably the least important thing right now, this was the first soul we saw outside of our crew and the fact that they ran away from us was extremely dubious.
They shifted their eyes around nervously to Villiers' unrelenting direct stare, "U-Um, I shouldn't talk to strangers..." they tried to argue, quite innocently.
"My name is Adrian Villiers. I'm here to look for Jonathan Harker. I don't intend to hurt you unless you attack me first," Villiers explained bluntly and to the point, leaving no angle for our new friend to politely excuse themselves from.
"J-Jonathan?!" They screamed out loud in shock, "So you are the gang that Jonathan warned me about-Ah! I mean-I didn't say anything!"
They vehemently tried to deny it, but it was more like, they were begging for us to not bring it up, because they know they cannot lie. It was like seeing a child caught red handed with their hands in the cookie jar.
"You seem quite nervous, what were you saying about Harker?" Moreau further inquired further on our guest's apparent suspicious behavior.
Suddenly their mouth went agape, and their eyes widened in shock, "M-My lord?!" They exclaimed while looking straight at Moreau's face.
My brows furrowed with confusion "My?"
Montgomery tilted his head, "Lord?"
We both looked at Moreau, whose expression was as equally confused as outs, "...Excuse me?"
"Ah!" They made a noise, as if suddenly realizing they shouldn't have said that, yet again, "WAAH! I'm shutting up! You won't get me to talk, not even if you torture me, because I made a promise to Jonathan and even though everything is a little bit of a mess now, I'm not going to break-"
"Talk." Moreau said firmly.
"Okaaaay~!" They immediately changed their tune; it was the fastest shift I've ever seen in my life. Not even Montgomery shifts his tone this fast.
"So easy..." I muttered under my breath.
Villiers, however, was taking a closer look and surprisingly came to a conclusion faster than us, "Long orange hair, feminine yet masculine...Are you perhaps, the fabled Seth Aubrey?"
"Gulp! N-No, I'm...um...their twin brother S-Sath Sawbrey! YES! Totally two different people!" They tried to weasel their way out of it. I thought Montgomery was the worst liar that I ever knew, until this very moment that is.
"Talk." Moreau firmly stated again.
Once again, their tune completely changed and they were immediately remorseful, "That was a lie, I'm really sorry. I am Seth Aubrey, please call me Seth," they admitted the obvious. I guess that means at least I know that this person is a He, if not from his name...Or so I think, I mean, I've never heard or met a girl named Seth before, at least.
Moreau then posed the question of the hour, "So, tell me, why is the infamous key to the whole problem doing out here in the open all alone?" He asked.
Seth looked down, nervously twiddling his fingers together, but under the intense pressure of all 4 of our gazes, he finally caved, "...T-The truth is...right before you guys arrived, we were making the final preparation to create the world the Count wanted,"
"The happiness only world?" Moreau tried to clarify and Seth nodded.
"Yes, that. I believed in that dream too, even though I knew it was unlikely to perfectly manifest as we think, if we can get something close to it, then I would think it's worth it to give it a shot!" Seth answered passionately. Coming from his excitedly childish tone, it sounded less like a lunatic's delusion and more...innocent, I suppose.
Moreau continued his rounds of questions, questions he's been dying to know the answers of for years at this point, "Why did you gather the fruit?"
"...That's...um...for me, I suppose. I don't quite understand it myself, but I have special powers that lets me control some part of the reality we live in," Seth graciously explained, and explain he did...not that my mind could comprehend what he meant.
"That's...Pretty overpowered, actually," I slowly realized, "...Are you like a God?"
"Um, maybe? I'm not sure," Seth answered, genuinely stumped at the question posed.
"Alright, so what are you sure about then?" Moreau brought the topic back.
"Whatever the Count told me, I...I learned it's pointless to ask him anything more than that," Seth looked down nervously at not having an answer, so he started talking about everything he knew, "He told me these powers manifest subconsciously at times, it can only be invoked when I wished for it strongly and these fruit help me achieve that state easier due to my...unique mental condition."
"But the cost is unlikely to come so cheap to do something so drastic, even with world bending powers, right?" Villiers questioned.
"...Yes, my powers are limited within a fragile human body, that is why my lord turned me into a demon like him," Seth briefly rubbed his neck, and only now did I notice this seemingly harmless person sprouted sharp fangs upon his teeth, "But even that is not enough."
Despite Seth's obvious nervousness, likely from the awkward situation he now found himself in, Moreau audibly let out a satisfied grin, "You know, I like you, you don't talk in circles like every one of your friends, thank you for making things so much easier to understand."
"We-Well...It's no use hiding it now, things have spiraled out of my control, I don't know what to do when it turns out like this..." Seth's eyes started to water, whatever he did, he was clearly regretting it heavily.
After wiping the tears forming and a couple of sniffles, he continued telling his tale, "Where was I...Ah, right we knew that the cost wouldn't come cheap and we weren't stupid enough to not at least test it out first in a small scale."
Seth's POV
It all started a few days ago. Jonathan and I were discussing about what to do with how you guys were likely to be approaching the castle soon, how we need to hurry.
Jonathan was the one who came up with a suggestion first, "There is no need to delay them if we can just use your power to show them their ideal world, even if it's only going to stop them for a brief moment."
It lined up with our goal, after all, we need to test it on small groups before we even think about using it to the whole world. But even before that, we have yet to test to see if my power can even do such a thing.
So, I tried my best to conjure up the bubbles you surely already experienced by now. I won't spend too long on elaborating on it, but essentially one of my abilities was the power to see through everyone's memories.
Memories are often very chaotic, since stronger memories would often involve someone's trauma, so it takes a lot of toll not only on my body, but also on my mental state, which also affects my overall health even more.
Anyway, Jonathan offered himself as the first official test subject, "Try it on me first, I'm basically immortal right now anyway, whatever will happen, I can handle it."
His eyes were looking at me so intensely, like a fire that's been festering for so long and can no longer be put out. I didn't have it in me to even attempt at suggesting anything else.
And so I did as he said and everything went smoothly, at least, that was what I thought then...until I let him out.
"Jonathan! How was it?" I approached him excitedly, seeing as he was completely unharmed, but he remained silent, his gaze lied solely on the floor, "Jo-Jonathan? Are you okay?"
"Haha...Hahaha!" He suddenly laughed and grabbed both of my shoulders tightly, letting out a big smile, "It was perfect! I finally got to see what I wanted!"
I was caught by surprised, but I was soon swept up with the positive response he was showing, "I'm glad for you, Jonathan. You finally know what it is you want!"
There was a long pause before he finally responded, "...Yeah!" He looked like he was smiling with sincerity, but I had a feeling that something was off, I just...I didn't dare bring it up then.
Thinking about it now, his answer was so obviously forced. I just convinced myself that he was just overwhelmed by the result of his hard work.
I mean, after all, I saw what he saw back then. That's why I don't understand why he felt like that, everything went smoothly, I didn't detect any errors, what he saw was truly his happiest ideal life.
So I have no idea about why he suddenly had such a violent outburst and then made all of this chaos happened without consulting me or anyone.
Montgomery's POV
"And? What exactly did he see?" Moreau questioned.
"That would be an invasion of privacy! I would never-" Stop. We all know where this is heading.
"Say it." Moreau said nothing more.
Seth, almost feeling shameful that this is his third time falling for this, replied with his head down, "Yes sir. It was a peaceful normal life with his wife and son. That was really it."
I raised my eyebrow, "And that somehow rattled him the wrong way? It seems to be in line with his ramblings, even though there was a lack of his talk of freedom and stuff," I said.
I mean, I'm not married and I was raised solely by my father, so the only thing I heard about marriage were through disgruntled bar patrons. Being lawfully tied to another severely locked your freedom, after all, you have responsibility over them now.
Actually, there is one person we can ask, Villiers. He told us that he was apparently married in this timeline, but with his double amnesia, he's not much of a help regarding that.
"So what happened after that?" Moreau continued to question.
Seth's POV
The next day, this morning that is, Jonathan came up to me and said that you guys were getting much closer faster than we thought.
So to stop you guys in your tracks, he decided that we should proceed with our plan and trap you guys in these dream bubbles.
But before that, he discussed some things with me, I did feel that he sounded rather tired then, "Seth, can I ask you about the specifics of this dream bubble?" He asked.
"Sure, what is it?" I replied excitedly, oblivious to all of that at the time.
Jonathan pointed at the small circular bubbles inside of the basket I made. They were meant to be deployed all at once when I activate one of them, all of them capturing any 'human' in nearby vicinity.
"These all take a lot of energy to keep up, right? How long can you keep it up?" He inquired.
I, of course, answered honestly, "Well, right now, for how much we have at the moment...probably for a few weeks at most, any more than that and this body won't be able to keep going."
"And that will only get worse the wider we increase our scope, right?" He further inquired, brows furrowing downward.
I nodded, "Naturally, but we can talk about that later, for now, we have to make sure it can work before those people intercept us!"
At the time that was the issue that plagued my mind, if will even work safely at the number we currently have. I thought we would only trap you guys for a few hours before capturing you all. I didn't want anyone to be physically harmed!
But Jonathan seems to have been thinking of something different to what you and I would be expecting. His expression was suddenly filled with despair and he sounded distraught.
He started trembling and muttering under his breathe, "Cracks will start to appear too, a dream can easily turn into a nightmare...It's hopeless no matter how long we wait, true salvation is not what we think."
Seeing him like that, I immediately changed my tone and showed my concern over his mental state, "Jonathan...are you feeling alright? Do you need rest? Or maybe you need blood?" I tried to get him distracted with something else.
He suddenly turned to look at me with empty eyes and a creepy vacant smile, "Blood? No, no, I don't need that. I don't want that. That's too dark, that won't do! It has to be perfect; everyone has to be happy!"
Then he shook his head and let me go, grabbing his temple instead as if he was feeling intense pain. "No, No, the only way for peace is to shed blood, the blood of those bastards who made everyone suffer," he said in a low growl voice filled with malice, before shouting out loud in frustration, "Goddamn it!!"
I didn't know what to do. I have known Jonathan for quite a while, and I too know how it feels to have all of your jumbled thoughts plague your mind under duress. But his reaction was different to mine, to what I know I can handle.
So instead, I thought I should get Mr. Art, who he was much closer to, "I-I think you're tired, I'll go call Mr. Art-"
He grabbed my hand so tightly, it felt like he had cracked it, but my wince of pain didn't deter his sudden mania, "No, Seth, keep working on it, I'm fine! There's no time for us to delay! They're coming! They'll get in my way again!" He then began looking around frantically as if he was being chased, "And once I die, I'll-I'll lose it all again, I can't let them find me, dead or alive, I can't!"
I struggled helplessly against his grip. I thought for a moment that it was fine to be rougher, after all, he is immortal. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, other than hoping he would calm down.
"Jonathan, calm down! Mr. Arthur is right down this corridor, it will just take a few minute-" suddenly, he let me go and I was left taken aback, "J-Jonathan?" I said wistfully, hoping he had regained his composure.
However instead, he went down to his knees and covered his face with his hands, as if he had given up, "Ughhh, I can't live like this anymore! I can't wait any longer! For me, for me, for me, let ME be what I want inside of the dream! Free me, Seth, please!!" He started begging to the point of tears, and I...I just...I didn't know what to do or what to say!
So...I just left, trying to get Mr. Art's help, fearing that what I said might hurt him, fearing that I had no real answer to begin with, and that will hurt him further. While I was busy getting help, I realized my mistake of leaving him alone like that too late.
Everyone suddenly vanished, only these dream bubbles were present in their stead. And then while I was wandering around aimlessly to search for Jonathan and try to stop this, I ran to you.
Montgomery's POV
"So, he went into the dream bubbles you were creating and activated it, which led to every other dream bubble activating and trapping everyone nearby?" Moreau asked to clarify, to which Seth nodded in response. He then added another question, "How did he do that when you're the creator?"
"Like I said, I manifested it into the world and made it specifically so it will activate if one does, so honestly...yeah, just about anybody can enter it as they please," Seth responded, twidling his thumb nervously as he realized the major flaw in his planning was part of why this happened.
It was obvious from the few minutes I've known Seth that he wasn't the type to think further than a few steps ahead. And with someone like Jonathan at the helm, he would naturally follow him like a little duckling. It was unavoidable, I guess.
"Anyway, the way the bubble works normally is that a person enters it and falls into a complete dream-like state, I stay on the outside to control it so nothing goes wrong during the process, to assert such control, I have to use tons of energy."
"What happens to the person during this dream?" Moreau further inquired.
"The person enter this space physically, the dream bubble would protect them from outside elements and is designed to prevent them from waking up unnecesarily. Once they do, the dream bubble would soon pop and the dream will end. That's the gist of it," Seth explained.
In so much detail, so straightforward, that I felt a weight lifted off my shoulder from all the times everyone has been vague or is named Villiers. It's so liberating that I can feel Moreau's mood increasing in succession.
Moreau gestured towards the demon, Helen Vaughan, who was keeping to herself as usual, "Why didn't it affect Miss Vaughan? It seems even demons and time travelers alike would get affected?"
Seth blinked once, and started speculating, "Ah that. I only created a limited amount, so it probably ran out, there are a lot of people here in the castle that Jonathan brought along, after all."
"In other words, she's just the lucky one, good for you, huh Villiers?" Moreau sarcastically jabbed.
Villiers, finally the one being teased, scoffed in absolute disgust, "I refuse to believe that any of my luck was associated with her."
"Even though normally you have such bad luck, you should know better and be humbled for once, uncle," Vaughan snickered. I'm sure she attributes her being allowed to harm Villiers repeatedly as good luck. As vengeance, Villiers has opted to punch her in the face with a full fist, "WHAT THE HELL?! THAT'S A LADY'S FACE YOU'RE PUNCHING!!"
"Not anymore, hopefully," Villiers said coldly, wiping his hand as if he just touched trash.
Moreau has opted to ignore them, perhaps feeling generous now that his mood is better, "So to summarize, Harker is currently inside a dream bubble?" He questioned and Seth nodded, "But if he can activate it himself, he still needs a power source to even keep these things running, correct?"
Seth's nervous reaction didn't bode well, "Jonathan himself is powering it...that's the only answer I can come up with, that's why I'm worried."
He further explained, "It doesn't affect me as much when I do it, that's why I should be assigned to watch over everything and be the power source normally."
That doesn't sound good. Essentially these bubbles are currently being powered and possibly under the control of an emotionally unstable and fickle immortal vampire.
"Is it possible for someone that is not you to even do the things you can do?" Moreau inquired further.
Seth pondered for a bit, "To assert full control while in a dream isn't possible, you need to be conscious to be in control. But subconsciously keeping up the world is possible, after all, it only takes your energy to do so."
"That would explain the lack of focus in some of the dreams, he doesn't have enough lucidity to make sure it's even attuned to every single person's ideal," I concluded.
Villiers nodded, "I don't even know what my dream meant, so I guess that's the most likely answer."
Seth let out a scream as he grabbed his head in frustration and panic, "Aaaaahhh! I messed up! I messed up big time! I shouldn't have left him alone, w-what should I do now?!"
"Um, aren't you the one who's supposed to be super overpowered? Why don't you just...I dunno, fix this?" I asked nervously, I mean, I don't really know if I should be more forward or not to this...um...kid-not-kid?
"B-But, what should I fix it as, I-I don't know where he is, I don't know what he wants, I can't do anything without information like this!" Seth cried, biting his nails in panic over what he should do.
My idea would just be to, I don't know, pop the bubbles and put Jonathan inside of a cage, but I suppose he looks like the type to want to please everyone.
I tried to comfort him a little, or really, the best I can for someone I just met, "Um...well, that's a good point actually, it's not like that unstable Jonathan is suddenly going to be more stable if we erase...whatever this is, since we don't really know why he reacted that way."
Seth, the one everyone's been touting as the key to the utopia and also a demon, his immidiate reaction to that is, "O-Oh no, w-what should I do! At this rate, Jonathan will leave me again, just like my lord! If I'm alone, I-I can't do anything, I'm useless!"
To immediately hyperventilate and sob like a child fearing he'll be given away, after running when being told not to and have an expensive item break on impact...Not from any personal experience or anything.
"To think that our journey has gotten so messed up that even the ones who should know what to do is asking us what to do," I mused at how our situation has only ever escalated in difficulty. Once in a while, I wish our problem is just a button push away from solving itself.
In between his sobbing and attempt to wipe his running tears, Seth started dumping out his feelings, "I-I just wanted to help, I know that I can do many things if I try, but I never know what to do with it or what's the right thing to do, what if I make the wrong choice and everyone ends up suffering instead?"
That was...quite rough to hear, because I...I mean, I don't have an answer for my problems either, much less one for him, so I sort of understand what he's going through.
"Oh, um, there, there...it's okay, you're still young," I tried to comfort him, before remembering Harker's journal, which stated he was a demon that's far older than me, "...Well actually, you're a demon so you're probably not, but um...uh...ummm..."
I probably shouldn't have said that last part out loud because he immediately wailed louder. Man, I don't know how to properly deal with emotional breakdown that's not through sleeping drugs or alcohol!
...And the other methods I do know are not appropriate to do to anyone aside from Prendick, like flirting...among other things.
Moreau began massaging his forehead and pulled back his hair, and I knew that's a sign that his patience has ran out. He firmly said the one thing you don't want him to say, "Enough."
His mood and subsequently the tension became fae more chill inducing than the snowy climate we were in. Moreau's angry gaze was solely secured onto the poor Seth, who was scared to even sob after such a firm warning.
He pointed his finger at him, pointing at his incompetence, "I'm getting sick and tired of dealing with a bunch of whiny brats, if you can't do anything on your own, then learn to do it."
"B-But how can I grow if no one around me tells me nothing for me to learn? I don't even know where this power of mine came from!" Seth argued back as he sobbed, staring up at the tall-standing Moreau with glossed eyes, looking downright pitiful.
It certainly made it hard for me to remember he was working with our enemy and was a huge contributor to this situation to begin with.
Moreau however, in a twist from his usual self, looked less angry and more intuitive, as he firmly gave him advice, "That's not the thing you should be learning, what you need is the ability to make decisions on your own and take responsibility for it."
He paused for a second, putting his hand inside of his pocket, where his cross, a gift from Van Helsing, would usually reside, "...Even if it so happens that your choice resulted in death, then all you can do is learn from it. That's how you grow as a person."
"Oh...wow, that is actually a solid advice coming from Moreau," I whispered under my breathe in astonishment. Moreau was not one to give advice, but state facts or what he believes as facts, he rarely ever gives out such a...human-like advice.
Villiers heard me whispering to myself and interjected himself to my space, "Indeed, perhaps we have left the real deal back at the bubble and this is a dream Moreau. Maybe one of us is still stuck in the dream bubble," Villiers brought up the idea, which I hope is just a joke, because I don't think I have it in me to constantly judge if every single thing around me is real or not.
However, Seth remained unconvinced, "So-So then why are you in Jonathan's way? Isn't he doing his best to make the world a better place? If he succeeds, then there wouldn't be a need to worry or fear about such things in the first place, right?!" He questioned, perhaps vocalizing his own doubts disguised as questions.
Moreau of course, remains undetterred by such a sad show. Once he starts, he would never stop until you agree to see his way, "You've answered your own question, isn't that why your world is bullshit to begin with?" He said rhetorically.
"B-But, what's wrong with making a happy world?" Seth questioned again, he was obviously confused and frustrated. I felt that all of those was...more so directed towards himself, how he truly felt about going about it than the goal itself.
"A happy world only serves to imprison people in their own fantasy molded by delusions from past glories. Satisfied people will not seek further improvement, thus a world where you can only be happy and grow at the same time is contradictory," Moreau explained as concisely as he usually does, breaking down Jonathan's passionate belief in one fell swoop.
In a way, Moreau's constant strife for turning beasts into man was indeed in line with what he said. It was a goal for him, no different than any other dreams like finishing university or completing an operation.
Because he had that goal to fuel him, as messed up as that goal was, it meant that he was truly living in the present...which cannot be said for the me of back then. Perhaps he has been thinking about this for a long time too.
"Fear and pain are all part of humanity's basic instinct, it pushes them to survive, when evolution deem these things unnecessary, certainly it means that we live in a peaceful time," Moreau casually sneaked in his own theory, before going back to topic, "However, mistakes and errors will always exist, no matter how far you reach for perfection. Everything that exists can never be more perfect than the creator, and humanity are flawed individualistic creature, it's impossible for us to craft the ideal perfect world for every single human in existence."
Seth looked on in awe at the confidence Moreau showed. It can't be helped, even I who had been with him for years know, that you just can't helped but be at awe at his charisma and be swept with the flow by him, especially someone as naive as Seth.
Seth started to calm down with Moreau's showcase of wisdom, but he was obviously still filled with many doubts and regrets, "I just, I just don't know what to do, with so many choices, I get scared of choosing the wrong one and make a mistake I can't take back, the thought of so many people's life in my hands, I can't disappoint them by doing nothing! I really do just want to help..." Seth gripped his hand onto his sleeping gown, but in the end, he couldn't keep it together and fell apart again, "I'm sorry, I'm-I'm so useless, I can't do anything on my own, I'm too scared, I'm so scared, please, I just want to help."
I know what he's going through, and I can't blame him for not being able to keep it together. Just like how Moreau will never show his vulnerable side to anyone, just like how I still need to rely on the idea of alcohol, no one will change after one small pep talk. Not something that has taken root so deeply.
"How many more disappointment will I deal with today?" Moreau sighed out loud, briefly glancing towards Villiers, who waved back at him innocently, earning a smaller sigh, "Fine, I'll be a dear and tell you what to do."
Seth lit up instantly and perked up his ears to listen to Moreau closely, enthusiastically so. "It's simple," Moreau began, "You need to find a way to fix this mess so we can get to the core issue. Have Jonathan Harker or anyone that knows explain to us what the truth of the world is l, so we can all finally deal with any problems that may arise and then we can all go home happy dandy, alright?"
Moreau's explanation wasn't exactly groundbreaking or anything, and it was also mostly what he himself desires. But it seems very effective, as it gave the lost little lamb Seth a goal and motivation to strive towards.
"A-Alright, I'll do my best!" Seth lifted his arm upwards as if to cheer himself up. He's so easily convinced with anything, it's no wonder how he ended up in this situation, "With the power of teamwork, I feel more at ease!"
Moreau sighed once again, but I can tell that this one was at least from a jollier mood, "Good grief. It appears that I will never be free of the curse that is crybabies.
I chuckled for a bit before brushing his typical hurtful comment off, "All is said and done, but how will we find Harker? Was he not in the room you left him in?" I asked.
Seth shook his head, "No, the room was empty, I think he moved somewhere else while I was calling for someone, but it's not anywhere in the castle, that I can tell."
"Is there a place nearby that he is attached to?" Villiers questioned, not a bad question, coming from him.
Unfortunately, it seems he also missed the mark, as Seth shook his head again, "Hmm, I don't think so, there's really nothing of note here other than trees."
I stared at Seth's cutely pondering face, noticing the fangs potruding from under his lips, being reminded of the fact that this exceedingly adorable, innocent, and naive soul is a demon.
"Do demons have like...you know, like how dogs can smell something from far away?" I half-jokingly questioned. It wouldn't hurt to ask anyway.
"Rude! If I did, I would have used it by now anyway!" Seth puffed out his cheeks like a squirell, he sure cheered himself up quick. Judging from personal experience, that's likely a sign of mental instability.
Suddenly, it was like his metaphorical lightbulb has lit up and he beamed excitedly, "Wait, maybe there is someway we can find him!"
Chapter 4: Chapter 3 (1893, Night)
Notes:
This one is short because I suck at actually separating the chapters
EDIT: I added an extra part to fix the pacing a little XD
Chapter Text
Arthur Holmwood's POV
Being a vampire is quite the convenient thing! Well, aside from a few of the expected downside. What I was impressed by now was that despite being severely underdressed, I don't feel the cold of Transylvania's snowy mountain at all, and I am usually the first to cave when it involves cold.
That being said, the same thing cannot apply from the entourage that Jonathan had brought with him. I still have no idea why he intends of weighing us down with such a crowd, especially when we are being chased by that Doctor's group, no doubt.
Well, knowing him, this risk must be something he's willing to compromise because of a great benefit, and that great benefit will lie on that figurehead. The being named "Beetle", or at least the one who took over the body of Sydney Atherton's.
I've been trying to ignore them, but Jack has been giving them the deadly stare constantly, and all they really reacted with was amusement. Well, at least, until it was Jonathan who stared. I suppose in term of hierarchy, Jonathan is now the temporary leader of Vlad's vampires.
The way they make vampires work, I wonder if the pros and cons actually balanced properly? I am actually quite excited to test the powers out, but there hasn't been much opportunity for me to actually use it, since I can't risk locking myself out of my influential nobleman form while being chased.
Well, I did get to feel this intense hunger for blood and the experience of sucking out blood from a human after a long thirst, which is...it was alright. Maybe I'm just more of a fan of doing things through a lense. Jack certainly does not like it though.
Anyway, after a great and arduous journeying through the creepy forest and thick white snow, we've finally arrived at the infamous Count Dracula's castle.
An old castle shrouded by dark clouds, that's been weathered by the environment and eroding with age, giving it that hauntingly beautiful gothic aesthetic. This world's architecture is indeed high quality work!
And of course, the interior was just as impressively grand. There were beautifully crafted decorations and some displays that would probably be valued as historical artifacts. Though some dusts have collected, presumably due to lack of upkeep.
Jonathan turned to face the Beetle and his group, "You may stay in this floor, take any room you wish, though since there's many of you, you may have to stay in the same room," he instructed.
"Of course, we wouldn't want to impose any further on your hospitality," The Beetle responded, humble in words, but not in tone, "Call me when you feel the need of me with that plan of yours, that is, if you have yet to change your mind."
"Ruthven or Vlad, whichever it is, I will accomplish the goal one way or another," "And what about you, don't you have one or two plans hidden as well?"
"If you so believe," The Beetle chuckled, as he curtsied goodbye without answering the question, leading his entourage as Jonathan instructed.
A lot of players are at play, so Jonathan said. Even if some work together, they don't necessarily share the same goal. As far as I can tell, this Beetle fellow seems to be more inclined to lead all of humanity into ruin by ways of hedonism, stripping them of their pride and dignity.
It's true there is grounds of suspicion towards his assistance in Jonathan's utopia plan, like perhaps he wishes to take over the plan and using it for his own plan.
Either way, for now I am more than glad to not see him and his group. Even if I know there's little consequences in this world, I don't wish to involve myself further with them...aside from maybe calling the cops, if this were any other scenario.
Suddenly, I heard the sounds of footsteps towards our direction, but before any of us could react, the source had already blasted themselves for a tight hug with Jonathan.
"Welcome back, Jonathan!!!" They screamed with a big smile on their face as Jonathan struggled to balance the sudden force that impacted him.
"G-Good to see you, Seth," Jonathan said. So this person was the infamous Seth. They are indeed as beautiful, graceful, and amazingly androgynous as Jonathan had proclaimed.
Jonathan managed to push himself away from Seth's bear hug and Seth laughed innocently like a child doing a little prank.
Ah, I feel my mind has been cleansed just from seeing another pure angel brimming with sunny positive energy, it reminds me of my dear Lucy.
Seth began to excitedly look around, curiously asking, "Where is Ruth...I mean, Count Dracula?"
Jonathan's expression grew somber, remembering what had happened to the man in question, "...Unfortunately, he won't be joining us anytime soon, however, we've got more than we need for you," he quickly diverted the topic by pulling out something from his pants' pocket. That mysterious fruit he risked himself to obtain.
Seth cupped the fruit in his hands with amazement. "Oh! You actually found it?! Jonathan, you're amazing!" Seth said, practically jumping in place. So cute, I'm blessed.
Jonathan also smiled, it had been a while since I've seen him smile like so in the past 3 years. "Quite so, ah, should I introduce you to my companions?" He was about to do so when our attention was diverted by a door opening.
From inside the door, a tall beautiful blonde woman wearing an elegant and simple night gown came out with a solemn expression. Upon her hand was a box filled with all kinds of things, toys, cards, books, things that would entertain a kid.
Jonathan's smile vanished almost instantly seeing that, but Seth didn't seem to notice in their excitement, "Then I'll head back to my room first! I have to brush up before meeting everyone and make a good first impression!" He said, carrying the ominous mystery fruit with him to the aforementioned door, which must be his room.
Once Seth closed the door, the woman headed to Jonathan, whispering to him discreetly, her English was layered with a thick accent, "Seth has requested more things as time went on" She sighed, she was polite, but it was clear she wanted Jonathan to know her frustrations, "It is quite a good thing you are back, Jonathan, he is a lot more joyful now with a friend around."
"Thank you for the effort you've put in," Jonathan said, sounding a little bit disingenuous.
The woman rolled her eyes, unfazed by Jonathan's pleasantries, "But about the Count, is Vlad...is he dead?" She asked an emotional question, but there's no discernable emotion on her face.
"No, it's quite complicated, but it's alright, he'll come back one day, he only left me with your care for now," Jonathan gave a rather vague answer, but the lady doesn't seem interested to press him for now and just left without another word. Count Dracula's choice of brides is as unique as the man himself.
Now that the introduction was over, by virtue of there being no one else, Jack pressed Jonathan for information, as he is keen to do, "So, can you tell me why this fruit is so important for him? How will this help in bringing any utopia?" He asked.
"That is because that child is special, he has the power to change the world, but he would never change the world unless it is absolutely necessary to," Jonathan answered, as vaguely as usual. This was how their conversation usually flows.
"I see..." Jack rolled his eyes, as usual, and began talking to himself instead, "Is that why the Count wanted these fruits, to help convince him? Somehow, that doesn't seem right."
"Well, you could ask the child about it directly, it is his own power after all," Jonathan stated sarcastically.
Jack scoffed, "Oh really? That's a massive improvement from a certain someone," He jabbed mockingly and Jonathan only chuckled in response.
"So, is this Seth...something like a God in this part of the world? I mean, it's not a stretch to think that way, right?" I asked for confirmation. It's quite a weird thing to ask, but hey, anything goes in this world.
Jack also added on his own question, "If that child is indeed some form of higher being, then why do you even need this fruit for?"
Jonathan looked down briefly, "I've seen how he behaved without it being given to him, it's like seeing the difference between a doll and a human," he said, with an uncomfortable face as he recalled his memories.
He quickly shook his head and returned to the original topic, "Anyway, it seems to help him immensely and helping him will improve his trust on us."
"Seems like a lot of effort just to get him to trust us when he seems like he trusts you already?" Jack pointed out. Indeed, Seth seems like the type of person who couldn't even harm a mosquito.
"As a friend, yes, but would you change the whole world for the sake of a normal friend?" Jonathan replied.
"So you're manipulating him," Jack concluded, stating the obvious immediately.
"Of course, but it's not like it won't benefit him, he sacrificed so much for others and yet he refuses to take care of himself, he says it is his duty to help others before himself," Jonathan sighed, "Such a kind child, he too deserves to live in his own utopia, yet he himself just lets everyone string him along to whatever utopia they wished."
Jack rolled his eyes, unconvinced by Jonathan's explanation, and shrugged his shoulders in dismay, "Ah yes, what a great thesis on justifying manipulation of a naive person, you're such a great example of a perfectly well adjusted human."
...Honestly, I can't really deny that allegation.
Jonathan let out a low chuckle, "Haha, that's good, I don't want to be perfect anyway," Jonathan said, not even trying to argue.
For a second there, I thought for sure his eyes looked different...Maybe he's just too lost in his own world to argue, that he doesn't deserve to argue.
Jack, however, doesn't seem to notice anything weird. He merely walked away from the conversation after failing to break through his defenses. Now there was only me and Jonathan left standing in the aging hallways of Castle Dracula.
Then, in a completely tired and monotone voice, he suddenly said, "There's a difference between doll and a human, but really, these days it's getting harder to tell if it's any different at all, we're all being controlled by something. There's no escape from it."
"...Jonathan? Are you alright?" I asked him, concerned. Jonathan didn't respond, he just stared momentarily at Seth's door.
"...Seth, all he ever wants is for everyone to be pleased by him, his purpose in life is to make everyone happy, he feels rewarded when they are happy, and he feels hopeless when they're not," Jonathan explained, "I used to think it would be nice to be like him...but he has such a sad and suffocating life, seeing him crumble down slowly as he gives up pieces of his happiness for everyone else, but himself."
Now I don't know much about Seth, only hearsays from Jonathan, so I don't know what kind of life he had led. But judging from the limited interaction I have, there is a sense of there being something off.
When you meet someone so innocent and naive like Seth, you'd naturally assume that they are either young, sheltered, or both, as is with my dear Lucy. But there are...far darker assumptions.
Jonathan sighed, "That fruit, its effect helps him to continue his dream without breaking his mind, that's pretty much what I can tell. And we need him as sane as we can get to use him..." as his sentence wavered, his eyes wandered to the side, as of he's trying to come to terms with what he just said, to build up that dark resolve.
Then he continued, "...If so, let's make sure that he agrees with our goal, he is always very susceptible to ideas, since he doesn't like rejecting anyone, whoever implanted the ideas to his head first wins," he clenched his fist tightly, "And, I for one will win, I'll do whatever it takes to achieve that paradise everyone wish for."
I didn't really know what to say, whether I should try to calm him down, to dissuade him, or to agree with him. Honestly, I had a feeling he'd felt like anything I say is useless, because he will disregard it the next day.
But still, I want to say something to cheer him up in the present, even for a moment, "If you are sure, Jonathan. I'll always be by your side through it all!"
At least...I will try to.
I didn't dare to voice that doubt anywhere, but in my heart.
Jonathan let out a sad smile, "Thank you, I wonder why, but it seems I've always been surrounded by kind hearted people, even though I don't deserve it."
I quickly argued back at his self deprecation, "That's not true, Jonathan, people who say things like that are usually a lot kinder than they think they are!" I said, trying to convince him, "At the very least, you have more courage than me when it comes to the people you care about."
Jonathan's looked doubtful, his expression only got more sour, "Courage? Kind? Selfish? Which one of that really is the real me, Athur?" He questioned me, but I didn't know the answer he was seeking...nor does he himself know.
"You know it too, every time I think I found my true self, the next day I ponder once again if it was really true or just a dream, I subconsciously made to feel better." He shook his head violently, as of trying to shake away the negative thoughts, but it doesn't seem to work.
He broke down his confident facade, one that he put up to display that he had everything under control. I know that the truth is...he was barely hanging on, every smile, every weird joke he makes, was all to mask that he was a mess deep down inside.
But whatever I do, whatever I say, no matter how much I've listened and comforted him, nothing gets through the shadows that plagued his mind constantly, driving him to insanity. Not even Mina could have done anything for it, let alone me or anyone else.
In the end, the only thing anyone could do was leave him be and make sure he's alive. All we could do was watch him wither away. The last thing I would want is for the boy I met that long ago to be put behind a glass wall, observed like he was some sort of dangerous test subject.
With glossy eyes, trying to stop himself from crying in front of me, "I hope, if nothing else, even a glimpse of my own utopia can give me an answer of who or what I really am. I can't start anything without it..."
I took a step forward, even though I still have doubts of where his path was going, I tried to look as determined as I could to reassure him, "So be it, if that is what it takes to convince you, then I will support your decision!"
Jonathan didn't say anything, he simply wiped his forming tears and nodded. I don't really know if that convinced him, so before the silence became to awkward, I immediately move to switch topics.
"In the meantime, I want to continue our training regime even here. A snowy environment should make for good training ground, right?" I said, trying to sound excited. He only stared at my attempt blankly as a response, "So you know, come find me if you feel like forgetting those stuff for awhile. I'll always be here!"
"How much have you and Jack remembered?" He suddenly asked. Perhaps what I said just now made him thought of that, it wasn't what "Arthur Holmwood" and "Jonathan Harker" have ever done after all. It was just something..."we" usually do.
I was always conscious of the fact that I wasn't anything special, aside from my ability to connect with people. I always wanted to special, to be someone who can help and protect others, including psychically. That's why I asked Jonathan to train me, to be a man worthy of Lucy's choice.
I didn't want to alarm him too much, given his emotional state, so I decided to leave it vague, "Not much, Jack still doesn't believe it, but me...enough to know why we are here in this world," I replied, being reminded of the fact that the state of this world is the result of humanity's failures.
"In the end, perhaps what we're doing here wouldn't even matter, but still there's no harm in trying, isn't that why that man gave you this chance?" I asked, referring to this Lord Ruthven, who I believe to be one of the person in charge of this world. An Overseer, I think he's called.
"A chance, huh..." Jonathan scoffed, almost mockingly so, "I suppose not even someone like him can be everywhere all at once to deal with all of this mess, he is after all just like us and all things made by us are destined to fall. Is there a point of hoping for a chance?"
I stood there silently, not knowing what to say. Perhaps Jonathan is destined to fall, just like how humanity itself is, at the core of it, destined to end. But still...I don't want it to, even if I couldn't possibly do anything to change the inevitable, I still want to believe that there is a chance for happy end eventually.
But before I can convey that, Jonathan changed the subject in a hurry, "Speaking of falling, I would assume that Edward and company are all heading this way, that won't do," he said, regaining some of his composure, at least enough to appear so on the outside.
He went and knocked on Seth's door, "Seth, can I talk with you about something?"
Seth opened the door and welcomed Jonathan in with a bright smile, "Of course! What can I help you with?"
And so there I was, being left to my own thoughts. I wondered for a moment if he was avoiding talking about his emotions, that he found himself to be a burden by constantly relapsing to the same mood swings of his? To prevent himself from hoping before it crushes him again?
The same story going round and round again, it's just like this world, with not a single ending in sight. Most player here seem to be wishing for some kind of never-ending world or a premature ending for it, but is that really what the world needs?
Is that what Jonathan needs?
Damn it, even though I've regained a lot of my memories, I still can't do a single thing for him. At this rate, what was the point of me going with him if I'm still so weak? What if he does something that can't be taken back, what in the world should I do?!
Even though I was the one who first reached out to you, even though I always try to be positive, was I ever...did I ever help you at all? Are you still trapped inside of that cage they put you in after all?
In the end, I spent my entire time in the castle, bough down by my own wallowing self-pity, just mindlessly watching everything moving like I was a bystander.
Jonathan was busying himself with his plan with Seth anyway, and he did not let me, nor Jack be privy to it. In fact, it seemed as though he was hesitant to let us be near him all of the sudden.
Though Seth occasionally talked to me or Jack, being somewhat apologetic Jonathan's avoidance and doing his best to reassure us that he was just focused.
I don't know Seth all too well yet, but from just a few interactions I have had with them, I could tell that Seth had a natural talent and charm at making people feel at ease with his presence.
Something about them, listening to you attentively and getting so invested, just makes you want to pour your heart out, as if Seth's existence in of itself will accept any and all part of you. Perhaps that is why Jonathan prefers Seth, who is as pure hearted and sweet as a dreaming girl in love.
And one day, I somewhat understood why he avoided me. Because I finally remember what happened on that day, the day we were all captured and trapped inside this world against our will. The day Jonathan finally resolved himself to look into the truth. And...how it turned out...
It was enough to make me lose any desire to approach him, not because of anything he did...It's just...I didn't know what to say to him, I didn't even know what was on that file. Has he even remembered what he read, or was he just scared in general that we might get hurt again.
All I could remember was...how much despair was plastered on your face, the amount of pain that you must have felt inside that you didn't even react when you were captured. It was like you didn't care if you just died then and there.
That face, the result of us wanting to know the truth, it continued to haunt me ever since I remembered it. For that reason, I was scared to say anything, I was scared of having to see that face again.
I didn't want to think like this, but I...I just...It was too much, how could I even attempt to share his burden?
Suddenly, a loud banging sound coming from the door to my room finally ended those days of fearful silence, exchanging it for the dreadful moment that I had been fearing of.
"Arthur! Mr. Arthur! Please help me, Jonathan is-!"
At the mention of Jonathan, I moved quickly towards the door and opened it to see a distraught Seth panting in obvious distress. I put my hand firmly on his shoulder and asked the question I feared knowing the answer to, "What's the matter with Jonathan?!"
"Jonathan! He's acting strange! I'm afraid something might happen, can you please come with me!" Seth replied, pointing towards his room. At that moment, my worry lessened slightly, perhaps it was just another relapse, or he was unwell from overwork, thinking about anything, anything but the worst scenario.
When we arrived at Seth's room, he gasped in shock and I can feel my heartbeat rising, "H-Huh, he's not here? Where did he go?!"
The overwhelming feeling of dread overcame me, and I was left with only one burning question inside my mind. The one thing that I've been thinking of the past few days, and I finally dared to ask the question, "Hey, Jonathan, he tried out the dream bubble, didn't he?"
Seth looked at me with confused eyes over my question, but he replied nonetheless, "Huh?! Y-Yes, but why do you ask?"
"What is it that he saw?!" I desperately asked, hoping he would say something other than what I'm thinking of.
"E-Eh, well, all I saw was a normal happy family scene, that's all!" Seth answered, which was...not what I expected to hear at all.
"What...?" I was left in shock. Why would such a scene be a cause for Jonathan to suddenly act out on his own. Even Seth doesn't seem to know why he did so, judging from his reaction.
"We have to find him; I don't want him to get hurt!" Seth said, as he pulled me out of the room to look for him. Normally I would be as worried as him too, but the current me, who knew there was something more to this, was more caught up in what his action meant.
And then it clicked. That dissonance between what he thinks he wants against what he really wants, the frustration from not knowing what was wrong with him, and now he was given the only opportunity to discover it. It was the exact same situation that led him to want to find that truth on that day.
"...Could it be, you can't be planning to delve even deeper? The truth that has been hidden from you...you want to see it still?" I whispered to myself, I know what would happen, I don't want it to happen, but...but I was the one who convinced him to seek out the truth, that I will always be next to him no matter what.
Do I even deserve to stop you, when I can't even muster the will to tell you what I knew? When I know now I couldn't possibly handle what you would be feeling?
That I was just nothing more than all talk, because that's all I'm good at? That I approached you because of my hubris? That after finding the truth, I...even for a brief moment, was afraid of you?
"I'll support your decision, because it's all I could do, because I have never been special enough to reach you," I whispered, even though he couldn't possibly hear me.
It was then that I came to the realization of why I was given the role of Arthur Holmwood. Because all his existence for is to suffer losing everything and using his influence for the sake of the plot. A role that can easily be given to another.
He was just a filler character. Nothing terrible, nothing special. Just like me, he couldn't have saved anything on his own.
I couldn't help but laugh at the irony. My worries, my feelings, my effort, it never really mattered at all, "Haha..ha..I'm sorry, Jonathan, that I'm just another pointless side character in your life."
That was the last thing I thought of before blanking out.
Adam Moreau's POV
I saw Montgomery and Prendick's figure disappear into the distance. With that, Villiers, Vaughan, and I, with the guidance of Seth, began our move in the opposite direction to head towards the castle. Albeit it was in a slower pace than I expected, as Seth was not exactly...fast.
In the middle of this admittedly very nice silence for once, it appears that Seth cannot handle the tension and was struggling to make small talks, "...Um...So, what are your hobbies, Mr. Moreau? Do you like...um, flowers?" He asked.
"Not in particular," I answered bluntly.
"Oh..." Seth then turned his expectant gaze towards Villiers, "Mr...um...Villiers?"
Villiers answered quickly, "I like blondes," his answer was even more blunt and offered no additional context, but it was an answer.
Seth was left with no rebuttal, "Right...I see..." Seth turned towards Helen Vaughan, but surmised quickly that talking to her was a terrible idea.
Shortly after that incredibly awkward talking session, we arrived at the front of the castle, where there are a few of those dreaded bubbles strewn about.
Seth quickly let out a warning as he guided us inside the castle, "Don't touch these, I'm pretty sure these all contained the people that Jonathan brought back here," His face momentarily scrunched, as he undoubtably remembered Beetle and his entourage of brainwashed cult members, "They're kind of...creepy..."
Villiers inspected the bubble with mild interest as we passed through, "Hmm, so even a supernatural can't easily escape the bubble, that's good to know." He briefly glanced at Helen Vaughan with malicious intent.
Meanwhile for me, I was left wondering about the fact that even supernaturals can in fact sleep and dream, even if in this case, it seemingly only shows one's past memories. "I wonder what kind of dream would a supernatural dream," I pondered to myself.
After walking deeper into the halls and climbing a few stairs up Count Dracula's castle, Seth suddenly jumped in excitement as he pointed to one bubble floating on its lonesome in the middle of the hall, "This is it! I'm pretty sure this is Mr. Arthur!"
I sighed, but in a way, I was also quite interested. This might be the first time we finally see a glimpse of what the truth of the world is about, doing it without the person's consent is also certainly a positive feeling of superior dominance.
"Let's just go and get this over with, shall we?" I said. Villiers nodded, as he drags Helen with him before she had a chance to sneak away, as usual.
"I'll stay outside in case anything happens, please be careful!" Seth said, as the three of us head inside.
Immediately, I understand what Montgomery was explaining to me about this bubble. The inside was infinitely larger than what is displayed outside, almost like it has its own space.
It contains a completely different environment, not just looks, but how it feels and sounds as well, like we were teleported elsewhere the moment we entered.
The environment we currently found ourselves in seems to be some kind of residential area, the architecture of which country is not known to me, as it's not my area of expertise. Regardless, it looks to be quite a well-off area, everything was disturbingly clean and spotless.
"Arthur, I'm telling you this is a bad idea, our parents all told us to stay away," A voice pleaded desperately to another. It sounded like a child's voice.
At the mention of the name, me and Villiers looked at each other and nodded. We quietly headed to the source of this conversation and arrived at an intersection that splits to the left and right.
From the corner, we quietly looked towards the right and see 3 kids gathering in front of a house. The 3 kids all looked quite familiar, in fact, it's not an exaggeration to say that they might be a group we knew well.
The green haired child was smiling, trying to downplay the red-haired child's aforementioned pleading. He looks almost exactly like Van Helsing's young son, there was no mistake, that that was Arthur Holmwood as a child.
But then that's weird, if this child was the Arthur Holmwood, then the red-haired and fair-haired child with him must be...But that's impossible, Morris has once told me that their band of trio was only formed when they were travelling the world as young adults.
These three are clearly very young children, one young enough to have barely started going to school. But they look so similar to the trio we know of. Is this what the truth of the world is?
"Come now, Jack, it's fine if no one knows! Besides, don't you guys feel bad for him, he's just a kid!" Kid Holmwood said, confirming my suspicion, "You agree with me, right, Quincey?"
Kid Morris sighed as he was suddenly thrown into the argument, "Well, we're technically still counts as kids too, as long as we live under our parent's house, we have to follow the rules or we'll get punished," He paused, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes, "Buuuut on the other hand, they don't explain why it's bad, so it's up to us to stay informed and make our own decisions, right?"
Kid Holmwood immediately beamed with excitement as Kid Seward groaned out loud, "Argh, not you too!"
Being overruled by a two-on-one, Kid Seward had no choice but to relent to the social pressure, "Fine, if we get found out, don't blame me if I'm betraying you guys!" He made sure to add.
"You worry too much, if there's harm to talking to a kid, then it's more likely that everyone else is the problem," Kid Holmwood then turned his gaze up, towards the house's second floor balcony, where a familiar looking child was nervously leaning over to see what was going on, "Besides, I can't just leave him alone now that I see him."
Kid Holmwood walked up to the gate, calling out to him in a friendly manner, "Hey, your name is Jonathan, right? Wanna go hang out with us?"
Kid Harker momentarily hid himself under the railings in shock, before looking back up again, "Oh...Oh, you're talking to me?" He asked nervously in a meek manner. Hard to believe he'd grow up to be such a stubborn pest.
"You're the only one here who's been listening in," Kid Seward mumbled under his breath before Kid Morris nudged him to behave. Ah, so Seward has always been like that, how adorable.
Kid Harker lit up almost immediately, "O-Oh, I...I would love to!" But then he suddenly retracts back nervously, twirling his finger, "B-But I need to check with my parents, I'm not allowed to leave the house without their permission."
The three musketeers looked at each other in confusion and slight concern. Kid Morris was the first to inquire, "Well, do they usually let you out of the house when you ask them?"
"They do, of course, how else will I go to school?" Kid Harker answered, a response from a very sheltered child, or rather, a child with very strict parental guardian. That might explain why he is currently acting out a world-changing tantrum.
Kid Seward pulled Kid Holmwood closer to him, "Arthur, we can still just walk away from this, I don't think we should involve ourselves in a stranger's problem," he advised, a wise advice in this case.
"Jack, if one day I have a problem with my parents and ran off to the street, are you going to leave me alone because it's my family's personal problem?" Kid Holmwood argued.
Personally, I find dealing with people I already know to be more palatable compared to dealing with a potentially volatile situation that I have 0 information about. But I am an adult, while he is a kid, he's way beyond his league here.
Kid Seward, was however, caught off guard by his emotional rhetoric, "Well, that's a little unfair way of putting it..."
Kid Morris quickly interjected before it became another argument, "Now, now, let's not just assume things," he said, he's quite emotionally mature for his age.
He took the lead in addressing Kid Harker again, "Jonathan, are your parents home?" Kid Harker shook his head to the side, "Then when will your parent come home?" He asked again, with a slight grin.
I'm not very well versed in kids, but judging from the few interactions I have had with them, Kid Morris is thinking up a scheme of youthful blasphemy, in the form of disregarding their elders' teachings for the fun of it.
"They usually come home at 7 PM..." Kid Harker seemed to understand his implication, but was visibly nervous about disobeying his parents, "B-But I really don't want to get you guys into trouble."
Kid Holmwood, however, had a sudden outburst when he said that, "Why would we get into trouble? Did you do something? Did your family do something?" Everyone was stunned at his sudden multitude of questions, "Is it because your family is related to J. Hackett?"
"J-J. Hackett?" Kid Harker's confused reaction mimicked Villiers' confused noise.
Seth, however, kindly explained to the rest of us who was not in the know, "I've heard about him before back when I was still human, they say that he was an assassin to a large criminal gang active around the western Europe until he betrayed them and later died mysteriously," he said.
J. Hackett...I have heard of his name, but like Seth said, his case was over hundreds of years ago and has been left behind in the whims of time. I wouldn't know much more than someone who actually lived through that time, much less would Villiers whose memory of this timeline was practically non-existent.
"If that is the same person, that's some lineage that Jonathan Harker has, that would be enough reason to make someone mentally unstable, right?" Villiers inquired.
"Depending on the way they are raised, which is probably why Holmwood is pushing him to speak about it, since he was the one who brought it up," I instinctively let out a small grin of victory, of how much information we're getting, so soon after the other.
My past, the thing I never wanted anyone to know, may have gotten unceremoniously seen and mocked, but at least aside from that, it has been a good day for my curiosity.
Regardless, Kid Harker suddenly grew very pale. I'm not sure if it was because he recognized the name or if Holmwood's sudden pushiness was too much for him.
"I-I...I have nothing to say about that, please leave me alone! I don't know anything!" Kid Harker shouted as he ran back into his house without another word. A loud door slammed quickly followed.
Kid Morris, recovering from his stun, looked at Kid Holmwood rather accusingly. Obviously, Kid Holmwood knew more than him and Seward about something, "Who the heck is J. Hackett? His face turned pale almost immediately," Kid Morris inquired, his tone like an angry parent.
Kid Holmwood, pressured by Morris's accusing glare, relented and explained, "One of my ancestors is an avid enthusiast about anything relating to killers, he has a huge collection of items relating to a bunch of them."
"Sounds like an...interesting hobby," Kid Seward's tone sounded unsure on how to respond to it, perhaps even as a child, he can relate to having uncommon hobbies.
"It was there I saw it, it was an old but official drawing, depicting the trial of J. Hackett. The face depicted in the drawing looked exactly like Jonathan," Kid Holmwood revealed excitedly, before regaining his composure, "Of course, it's an illustration, it could just be coincidence, but judging from that reaction..."
So, to summarize, Kid Holmwood wanted to talk to Kid Harker, because he so happens to find that he looks similar to an assassin from decades ago.
I suppose a kid is the most likely to fall for flight of fancies without thinking of the danger, considering they have no clue if Harker's home life is volatile or not.
"So the huge secret that everyone is scared about...was that this family is likely to be dangerous...Arthur, we pretty much already knew all of this!" Kid Seward yelled back, but I'm sure he felt vindicated that he was correct all along.
"But...he's just a kid! Regardless of if his family is still dubious, he shouldn't suffer the consequences like this! We can't let him turn into another J. Hackett because of the past!" Kid Holmwood argued back with fervent passion. Morally speaking as a fellow human, he is in the right, but objectively speaking, he is...a very small human.
Kid Morris stepped in again, to be the voice of reason, "Arthur, my friend, I understand your feeling, it's admirable that you want to help him, but what if you're wrong? You'll hurt a lot of people with speculations, you know,"
"B-But! What if I am right?! What if we only find that out when it's all too late?!" Kid Holmwood argued back, rather aggressively, to the point that he was visibly shaking from his rising emotions, "Fine then, I'll get proof of it! My gut is telling me to help him and if you guys don't wanna help, then so be it!"
Kid Holmwood quickly turned his heels with his heads down and ran to our direction, and by that, I mean he literally ran without looking where he went and bumped right into my lower half, falling over unceremoniously to the streets below.
Kid Holmwood looked up to us glaring down at him, "W-What...w-who are you, misters?" He asked nervously. Seems it'll take more than our face to wake him up.
"Good day, Mr. Holmwood," I said, with a hint of sarcasm.
Kid Holmwood's reaction was of confusion, as if he doesn't even realize I was referring to him, "H-Holmwood? Are you talking to me? Wait..." he trailed off, focusing on remembering something until finally, he let out a gasp "Y-You are...Doctor Moreau?!"
With that realization, the foreign world around us vanished, and the cold stone wall of Count Dracula's castle greeted us once again, as did Seth.
Chapter 5: Chapter 4 (1893, Early Morning)
Notes:
Progress on this part has been steady, one of the longest one I'm pretty sure, but the webnovel is catching up quick too >A<
Chapter Text
Adam Moreau's POV
Seth immediately went to check on the dazed Holmwood, touching all over his body to see if anything was wrong, "Mr. Arthur! Are you okay? Is your body unwell?"
"Seth, it's you...was I dreaming?" Holmwood let out another gasp, this time, his eyes widened and his face was pale, as if he realized he had just made a mistake, "Were you guys...You saw all of it, didn't you?"
I let out a victorious grin at his pitiful expression, "Yes, indeed. How nice of you to finally show us a glimpse of the truth. I know for a fact from Morris that the three of you only met a few years ago during your out of country travel," I got closer to his face, "There is no way you would be such good friends while Jonathan was only a child. In fact, you should have never even met him until 3 years ago."
Holmwood quickly put some distance between us, "Nghhh...I suppose, there is no hiding that fact," He begrudgingly admitted, but he was yet to be out of things to talk back at, "So? What of it? You only know a fraction of Jonathan's past, I would hardly call that a truth of anything, because not even he nor I fully grasped just how deep his past goes."
Seth became visibly distressed, "Is it...really that bad? Is that why he went out of control?" He asked, with tears forming in his eyes. If I had to guess, he is probably in the middle of blaming himself to tears in his highly self-critical manner.
At the very least, Seth's genuine emotion seems to have brought him back to his senses and calmed down his animosity towards us. The benefit of having someone with the emotional maturity of a child is that people sit down in shame if they behave uncouthly.
"That scene must have been quite a shock to him, he's spent all of his life trying to grasp anything that would define him," Holmwood explained, "So seeing such a simple thing being his true desire must have broken something in him."
"But why is that?" I asked him to elaborate, only to earn a scowl. I scoffed at his adorable display when he himself should know he is currently at a major disadvantage, "Come now, don't be so hostile at us, if we were aiming to kill you all without the sense to talk, then we could have easily done so."
Villiers added in a more calm-sounding and logical approach to convince him, "Since both sides are currently at a loss on what to do, if we can resolve this without fighting physically, that would be for the better, don't you think?"
Holmwood continued his scowl for a solid 10 seconds before finally giving up with a sigh, "Jonathan...has done a lot, as you would know, all for the sake of the one thing he's obsessed with...an ideal world filled with happiness."
We let him continue explaining, "Jonathan has always believed that his ideal would be something selfish and vile, because he's convinced that he is such a person. Then suddenly, a normal simple ideal world appear as his true desire."
Holmwood clenched his fist, almost as if he's visualizing Harker's own reaction in his mind, "Not only did he waste his life and moral for the sake of finding this out, now he's even more confused. 'If that was all that I wanted, why am I like this then? Am I...broken?' I'm sure he would say things like that."
Hmm, I suppose I could somewhat understand how that felt. I too have had my naive expectations of the future ruined by reality before. Though unlike him, I much prefer on living on by pure hatred towards the person responsible than giving up on life.
Then Holmwood's expression became a lot more pale, "So he wanted to find the truth, the whole truth, because the thing that his family hid from him were not his criminal lineage. It was something far worse."
"Far worse?" I repeated, wanting more detail. I am quite interested on what kind of terrible truth would drive someone to become so unhinged.
Holmwood didn't answer immediately. His eyes were avoiding our gaze and he was biting his nails nervously, like he was caught in a trance. Perhaps he was also thinking if he should even has the right to one-sidedly speak of Harker's past anymore than this.
Eventually he snapped out of it, and decided to continue, though his paleness did not improve, "One thing we did know for sure back then was that his parents were keeping a highly detailed record of not only his daily activity, but also his mental and physical status, like they were observing his growth."
Seth, despite his naivete, seems to have caught on far quicker than I would have anticipated, "That's...That sounds like..." in his stupor, he couldn't bring himself to say it.
Holmwood confirmed the obvious, "Yes, that he was being researched," he looked as though he was holding back his disgust as he recalled his memories, "Reading those reports in person was even more nauseating for me, not only was everything in his life catered precisely for whatever purpose they wanted that day, whenever any conflict with him occur, they would report it as an anomaly that had to be 'dealt with' and disregard his feelings."
His speech became more flustered, filled with stuttering and stumbles, as it was driven through the wild chaotic waves of his rising emotions, "I-It was awful! It read like-like they didn't even look at him as a human, they only looked at him as a dangerous specimen that has to be studied and contained, to be controlled to whatever their ideal is! There was not a single human emotion in their cold words!"
Holmwood paused, taking a brief moment to compose himself as best he could, "It's true that I only approached him because I was curious about the truth, I didn't do it out of pure desire to help him, but after I spent time with him, I realize that he was no different than any of us, a human with emotions and weakness," Tears began to swell up in his eyes, "Even so...what could have I done to help him? I'm...just too weak, I'm such a coward I couldn't even stand up to help anyone. All I could do was watch over him and give him support, but that won't solve anything!"
Well, at the very least he's self aware enough to not need a reminder of his own role in this. But I am not one to care for those who throw pity parties for themselves, especially those who use it as an excuse to play savior.
Seth was the first to emotionally react, or rather, within this group of ours, he was probably the only one that could be so pure to be emotionally swept up by such things, to the point of tears even.
Seth tightly embraced Arthur with, shall I say, strong compassion, as he consoled him, "Aaaarthuuuur! You poor thing, it's okay! I get how you feel completely! You've tried your best, it's okay!"
"As they say, drawn to kindred idiots like moths to a flame," I heard Miss Vaughan whispered under her breath. I had to admit that I agree with her in this.
While these two are well intentioned enough, it's clear that every single person in this chart has had their own personal issues they hide under a mask of smiles. Good intentions paved the way to Hell, I know that very well.
Despite how these two may personally be feeling, it is of no personal concern to me, I'm feeling quite jovial actually, "This is all very interesting, and very straightforward, finally, we are seeing some progress."
Villiers was surprisingly concerned about my behavior, "Moreau, isn't it a little bit insensitive to talk about such an emotional response with factual sentences like that considering what we just heard?"
He asked it so bluntly, like a child asking why the moon is round. It was a little different to what I usually expect, but Villiers has been very clear in showing his common sense did not form naturally.
"I've got no time to spare for kids to throw tantrums," I replied, short and simple. He seems to accept that answer and impressively had no further sarcastic jabs to add.
Perhaps he is that type of person, who enjoys being more chaotic when there is someone who will react to it. Or maybe he just dislikes kids, who knows.
This must be how everyone else feels when trying to understand my train of thoughts. An illuminating experience, but I've trailed off for too long.
"Now that we know Jonathan's intention, the only thing left is to find him and stop him before he kills himself, I would like to hear more of what he knows after all," I stated, making clear of my stance in this to the emotional duo, who glared at me with their teary eyes.
However, it was instead Villiers who brought up a line of question, "I just realized something, Jonathan Harker is a time traveler, right?"
"Yes?" I responded, wondering what his point was.
"So...isn't he immortal? Would he really die from something like this? I mean, Raymond has cut me open plenty of times," Villiers inquired. In this case, I was able to understand him, since I also have a disdain towards the concept of pain.
"Not every human is as nonchalant about life threatening injury as you are Villiers," I explained, "Since pain still exists in your body, it wouldn't matter if you were a vampire or human, it's only be a matter of time before they experience a mental breakdown from the stress and slowly become nothing more than an actual living corpse."
Villiers made an enlightened expression, and I continued on, adding my own speculation of the current situation, "Truth be told, he had the right idea, if all he wanted was to become fuel for this dreamworld, then he is the best power source."
Villiers nodded in affirmation, as he is very nonchalant about his own life.
On the other hand, despite being a demon, Seth was not like Villiers, and he became more worried at the idea I brought up, "But where could he be, I've been trying, but I can't tell who is in which bubble without prior knowledge!" He began to show signs of hyperventilating yet again. "A-At this rate, Jo-Jonathan will...Ooooh!"
I quickly snapped him out of his panic by giving him a stern and clear direction to go to, "You can cry about your adolescence mistakes later. Think! Is there a place where he is likely to be? There's no way he could have gotten far from when Seth left the room to when you two got back."
"B-But I've already checked all the rooms in the castle, I took a peek at every single bubble I encountered, but it wasn't his!" He retaliated, shaking his head in frustration and losing his composure. Not really helping for the person most familiar with our location.
Villiers, surprisingly, was the one who gave out an idea, "By the way, I heard that vampires can go through walls. Helen can do that if she really feels like it too, but does this power include the floors and ceilings?" He asked to the much calmer Holmwood, who was trying to calm Seth.
"Huh? Well, I never tried, Jack is the one who experiments with his capability the most, but-WAAA!!" Arthur's sudden scream of fright was cut short by his whole body falling through the floor, followed by it echoing to where we are from the bottom floor, and then a loud crashing noise.
After a brief silence, we heard his voice yelled in an excited tone, "I found him! He's right here!!"
I looked at Seth judgmentally, "You didn't check the basement?"
Seth's expression became less worried and more guilty, as he looked down nervously, "Well, um...you'll see why soon," he quickly switched topics, "But wow! You're so smart, Mr. Villiers! Let's go!!!"
As Seth ran out the room in the hurry, another cade of his ever-shifting mood, Villiers took this opportunity to take a light jab, "See, I told you demons really aren't that scary."
I looked at Helen Vaughan, despite her obvious defanged and collared state, a beast is still a beast. No matter how dumb the ones we met seem to be, they are still dangerous, to let your guard down with them will become a mistake eventually, as the previous Moreau's complacency had proven.
I sighed, "No, we were just lucky these groups are very childish, but childishness can be dangerous as well," I reminded him, though I did realize later on that by that metric, I would classify the simpleminded Villiers in the same category of dangerous.
Either way, there was no point in staying where we are. We quickly followed Seth's restless steps as he led us down the stairs of the castle.
As the room became darker, with the lack of windows to catch even the smallest of light from the cloudy sky, we could barely make out each other's figure.
Unluckily for us, the one who holds our match supply was Montgomery, so we had to make do with placing our hand right where the stone wall is for guidance and walking slowly. Seth's occasional scream of guidance marched us forward enough.
Finally, at the end of the long dark pathway, we came across a large wooden door. Upon it, there was a cross hanging from a nail.
"A cross? Why is a cross doing here?" I asked, before realizing that Seth and Helen Vaughan had been missing from the group.
Villiers quickly pointed to the wall of the corridor where we just turned, "They're over there, it seems, I can sense that wench's stink anywhere." So he says, not that I could tell.
"How could you say a beautiful dainty woman like me smell, you tasteless virgin of a man!" Helen Vaughan yelled back, before abruptly changing her tune to sound alluring, "I don't smell, do I, little Seth?"
I can't really see what was happening, but Seth became incredibly flustered and gave a non-answer, "W-Well, you kind of smell like human blood, I guess?"
He quickly changed the topic again, to what's actually important, "A-Anyway, that cross was what Jonathan had when he came here. The Count had Jonathan put it there, before he was turned into a vampire," Seth explained from behind the walls. Right, as per the rules of a demon, he and Helen Vaughan cannot approach it without feeling pain.
"Why exactly? If it's to throw it away, there's a river close by, isn't there?" I inquired further.
Seth shook his head, not knowing the answer either, "I'm not too sure either, I did ask, but he wouldn't say," he paused, as if contemplating the validity of what he just said.
Whatever it was, he decided not to further tell us, instead explaining the room beyond the door itself, "If I recall correctly, the distance between the wall and the floor in this room is more than what humans can reach on their own, of course vampires can't go transform into a bat and go through the wall at the same time."
"Essentially, for vampires, or any demon really, it's a one way room that will forever trap them with no way out, not unless another is involved," I concluded.
Villiers enthusiastically raised his hand up in the air while declaring, "I have a vested interest!"
"Oh come on! Haven't I been well behaved these past few hours?!" Helen Vaughan argued, still in hiding.
In the midst of Helen Vaughan's distress, Seth nervously said, "T-The point is, only humans can remove it, so if you may..."
Without further prompt, I removed the cross and opened the door, which was so obviously rusted at this point, that I needed to put a bit more strength into it.
Once I did, we saw a rather large circular space. The room had a few windows with a curtain; thus some light was able to seep through. Which means that this room is at least still ground level.
The room contained nothing much different than the halls, just a bunch of stone wall. However, a point of interest, was that there was clearly a large bubble in the middle of the room. But more curiously, was the coffin that laid right beneath it.
Considering what we just discussed and how we are in a vampire's lair, there's a high possibility that whatever is in there was deliberately trapped here, for whatever reason. If we're not cautious, things might not end pretty.
Our poor Holmwood was sitting on the ground a few steps away from it, rubbing his head and grumbling, "Oowww..." quite pathetically.
Without the cross holding him back, Seth quickly went to assist, "Mr. Arthur, are you okay?!"
Holmwood made a face of frustration and confusion, "Seth! It's weird, I tried to enter this space to get to that bubble, but it won't let me! It hurts for me to touch!" He said, pointing to the space in front of him in fear that the air itself will swat him away.
I went down to my knees and had to squint my eyes to look at the floor underneath, seeing some faded marks on it, "Hmm, these carvings...I recognize some of these from our preliminary research into demon worships," I hypothesized, "Could it be that this is where Count Dracula first called upon the power of a Lesser Devil to become a vampire?"
Seth's voice shook, "Pe-Perhaps? I don't really know much about that part," I can't see him, but I know his eyes were shifting away like the guiltiest person in the world.
"Oh? That part? Even though you spent years with him? Curious," I glared at him, and he audibly flinched. I decided to push him a little more, "And that shoddily made coffin in the middle of the room, what can you tell me about it?"
"S-Shoddily?!" He responded, sounding heavily offended. Everyone was silent in awe at how ridiculously easy he was to break, before Seth cleared out his throat nervously, as if that will make us forget, "R-Right now, I can't, I really don't know what to tell you even. For now, please focus on Jonathan first and I'll speak after, I promise!"
Alright, I have messed with him enough, at the very least he didn't cry this time, "Well, well, I'll take you up on that, we have all the time to talk about that later," I said, diverting everyone's attention to the floor, "For now, I think I know why only demons such as you cannot touch it. Look at the floor, right at where the bubble is."
"These are...carvings in the shape of crosses?!" Seth exclaimed loudly.
"I would assume that is a deliberate design for this ritual circle, once you successfully summoned a devil, you can't have it just run havoc and killing you, after all," I explained my hypothesis, and scoffed playfully, "And who knows, the devil might admire that kind of audacity."
I then added on, "If Jonathan knew of the existence of this room, which is possible with how his cross is placed here, and wished to not be bothered by the only person he knows would be out and about, then this would be the perfect place."
And thus I reach my conclusion, "In other words, you may give me all the malicious stare you want, Holmwood. As it stands, only us as humans can go in and attempt to resolve this."
Holmwood, caught red handed, quickly averted his obvious glare and tried a rebuttal, "Urghhh, w-what about Hunt-!" He quickly catches himself before the full slip, but it was too late.
I grinned, "Oh, Hunter? The Ghost mentioned that person before, seems to be someone of great deal of importance," I then attempted to guilt him with many questions to appeal to his currently weak conscience, "Are you really going to sit there quietly? If this Hunter is so reliable at this moment, then surely you'll tell us immediately, right?"
Holmwood clearly understood well he's being manipulated, however he had no other choice but to simply curse at me, "U-Urgh, damn you, Doctor! Had it not been for this then-!"
"Moreau! There you are!" I heard the ever-so-familiar panicked voice of Montgomery echoing throughout the halls behind me, as did multiple sets of footsteps. A small flickering orange light cut through the darkness along with it.
Montgomery and Prendick were leading the charge towards us with every other people in our group in tow, a few holding torches, "We freed everyone else, walking to Griffin's camp and then here is so tiring!" Montgomery added the complaint, as if I would be interested in knowing that.
Griffin, however, surprisingly seems to be in a rare morbidly pensive mood, none of his usual violent bravado to murder could be seen. Perhaps, he too, has seen a piece of his past that he rather been left in the past.
Morris went ahead of the charge and headed straight to Holmwood, "Art! You're okay! You-You're not still on about the whole thing, are you?" He asked.
Before anyone could add on, Van Helsing interjected, "Friend Adam, is the situation under control?!" He asked, before being taken aback by Seth's presence, "And um, who is this child clinging onto young Arthur?"
Then Miss Murray add on to the pile with her own concerns, "Jonathan! Dr. Moreau, where is he?!" She worriedly inquired.
I was getting mildly annoyed at the constant barrage of questions, so before anyone could interject again, "Shush, all of you!" I said sternly.
In unison, pure blissful silence covered the entire hall, I could hear myself think again.
Now that everyone's attention is in one place, I turned again to Holmwood, "Now that everyone is gathered here, minus Seward any who, the perfect time to tell us what you know. You can't possibly deny the pleadings of a lady concerned of her fiancée, will you?"
At my cue, Miss Murray pulled out the most damsel in distress look she could muster, "P-Please, Arthur, I'm genuinely just trying to help Jonathan!"
"Nghhh!" Holmwood gritted his teeth as he tried to resist and look away, but I know for a fact, that no gentleman of true good intentions can resist the teary eyes of a lady. Eventually, his shoulder drooped down in defeat from Miss Murray's might.
"It's plainly obvious from both your slipups that this Hunter is within this group," I started, giving him that one last push, "If you tell us who this Hunter is, then I'll gladly hand over the role to witness Jonathan's dirty laundry to them, which I'm sure you don't want me to see."
Culminating in him distraughtly yelling, "Nghhh! Fine, fine, I'll speak, so just stop with all that staring and guilt tripping!" Mission accomplished, now to hear what he has to say, "Hunter, was a codename for one of the more well respected member in a vigilante group that Jonathan was in, the group was called Red R.U.M."
Hunter...Red R.U.M...I don't think I've heard about those, but then again, I have been off the grid for a long while. I looked to my entourage, and none of them seem to know much about it.
Holmwood continues, "He was a Bounty Hunter, in other words, people who'd kill anyone with a bounty. In his whole career, he has never failed in killing his target, no matter who or how many gets in his way," he explained, before quickly adding on, "Ah, but of course, he doesn't just do it for the money, and the people he killed were all despicable beings, so at the core of it, he is a good person! Not that I ever met him, it's just what Jonathan told me..."
So a murderer with a heart of gold, who hunts down worse individual outside of the perceived failed system. Someone's who's not only capable enough to evade capture, but a true vigilante, with a spirit to fight back for the change he wants with his own hands.
...Aside from Villiers, I don't know which other "he" in this group that could be so outstanding. And for the record, Villiers is indeed fitting to be called a vigilante...
However, he doesn't strike me as someone who would go out of his way to enact justice, not unless he was personally involved.
At our silence, which he takes as bewilderment, he decided to move on, "Well, you know, to explain everything about this will take time, time we don't have right now, so I'll cut to the chase! Hunter's true identity is..." he very dramatically, slowly extended his point finger at our group, "Edward, it's you."
"...Huh?" We all said in unison as our mind try to digest what name Holmwood just said and directing our gaze to where Holmwood was pointing.
It was unmistakable. He was referring to our very own cowardly, sort of reliable, but usually not in the spotlight for being direct...Edward Prendick.
The man in question had his eyes widened in shock, pointing at himself with disbelief, "Hah." Was all he managed to utter.
While everyone was staring at Prendick in shock, he appears to have been the most shocked, and has now ceased all functionality as a human being after suddenly being put in the spotlight
I, however, paid him no mind. After all, looking back on it, it makes sense with Prendick's strange sudden burst of killing aura that had happened once or twice. Something like that can be explained if he was a fearsome Bounty Hunter as Holmwood claimed.
Considering from Villiers' experience, we can tell that before their memories and such were transported over from Timeline A, their Timeline B selves had their own lives.
Of course, as Holmwood said, there is no concrete explanation as to why that is the case yet, whether it be something like subconscious reflex or something more...complex. The details are murky, but at least it is something we can currently grasp on.
"That would explain why Harker and Count Dracula both treats him like an old companion," I scoffed, "But to think you would be someone even the Ghost seems to respect, Prendick."
The contrast is indeed very stark. This kid that often sneaks some petty jabs behind my back, shaking at the thought of walking through a crowd, is currently the person our sad villain most respects.
"Eh? Huh? Howaa?? Howwwwhhhhaaaaa?" was all the thoughts Prendick's brains can currently release.
"I think he's broken, Moreau," said Montgomery, stating the obvious.
"Hunter...I'm...Hunter? H-Hunt? There's no way, I mean, I'm just-UGH!!" Prendick's denial phase was suddenly halted by him grabbing his head in pain.
Edward Prendick's POV
The word "Hunter" started echoing inside my head, as if dozens of different voices called out that name in unison. I don't know who Hunter is, I don't know what he could have to do with me...and yet, there's a sense of familiarity to it, as if it was my own name.
Scenes flashes inside of my head, fragmented and chaotic, memories that I don't recognize like the scene with Harker.
In the first, my vision was blurry and shaking, yet I can smell and hear the heavy rain pouring down on me, mixed along with something metallic. I looked down to see blood, so many blood.
I heard my own voice screamed out in despair, "Blood, there's so much blood! ■■■■■■! ■■■■■■! How could this have happened, right after ■■■■■■?! ■■■■■■!!" I can't recall who the voice was crying out too, all I could recall is a deep sadness and pain that made me want to...
The scene changed to a dimly lit room, this time I was holding a financial report. All of the important details such as company name, what service was being counted, those were all obscured. But the numbers itself doesn't look bad, but it wasn't great either, barely breaking even.
I sighed, "At this rate, no matter how much I work on the company, I can't get enough to catch up on ■■■■■■'s bill," it says, gripping the paper tightly, "And ■ ■■■■■■ will only get worse from here."
My vision turned towards a case that displayed a rifle. It was then I made up my mind, that I had to do anything I can to keep my remaining family safe, "I can't lose another family, even if I have to give my life away to the Devil."
The scene changed to a much grimmer scene, it was the inside of a large mansion, but it was littered with patches of blood and mangled corpses. In the middle of all that carnage, was a heavily injured man lying on the ground.
"P-Please, spare my life, I'll give you anything! Money, you're a bounty hunter, right?! If you spare me, then I can give you lots of money! All you could ever need!" He attempted to beg, quite disgustingly.
I looked down at his pathetic attempt by reloading my empty pistol and pointing it directly on his head, earning a pig like squeal, "Even so, I still have my morals, unlike you."
I pulled the trigger.
In the next, I was walking away from the mansion, leaving trails of blood in my wake when a tall man with a black umbrella coverrig his face and a blood bag attached to him with a stand. It wasn't raining, nor was it there even any daylight, so my guess is that he wanted to look mysterious and cool.
He was standing in front of me casually as if he was going to a ball, compared to me who was bloodied to the nines, "You're the infamous bounty hunter, right?" He asked me casually.
I quickly understood that despite his frail appearance, he was not to be underestimated, but that he wasn't interested in getting in my way either.
People like him often come up to me to offer a partnership, but as a stereotypical lone wolf, I was never interested, "Leave me alone, I'm not interested in sales pitch."
"Now, come on! You need more underground info, don't you? Our group can easily provide you with that and even give you a free drink pass!" He tried negotiating. Certainly a bit different from the offers I often hear, but I was never a drinker.
"Whoever made your pitch shouldn't quit their day job, because I despise alcohol," I scoffed, but what he offered about information is certainly appealing, if it was actually good, it can save me the trouble of finding and confirming pieces of shits myself, "However, I'm interested, if it gets me enough cash."
"Oh, for someone of your talent, you deserve the bigger stage, normally reserved only for government officials, but uh...we have special connections!" He teased me, as if we were already close, "Besides, inside our group, everyone is an ally as long as you don't betray anyone, doesn't that sound like something a loner like you need?"
He doesn't have any fear, I'll give him that, "You've got guts talking to someone covered in blood while having an obvious weakness out."
"Oh dear, in my eyes, you're looking like quite the snack," His intonation seems to be that he's making some sort of joke, not that I know of it. He then finally took down his umbrella and addressed me with his face out, as a sign of trust.
It wasn't a face I recognized It was the face of the man who I knew as Count Dracula.
He smiled gently, a face I've never seen on him before, and stretched out his hand at me as a friendly gesture, "My codename is the Count, let this be the start of our glorious friendship, shall we, Hunter?"
I stared at his hand for a good while. I'm never one to look out for friends, much less someone as friendly as him, but...he doesn't seem like a bad person who would use or betray me.
I rubbed my bloody hands as best as I could on my pants and took his hand shake, "Sure. My sister has been bothering me about friends," I however had to add a comment when thinking about my sister's first impression, "Though you look very sleazy, so please don't make her misunderstand."
He chuckled amusedly, "Worry not, my friend, simple is how I like it."
The scene changed into a bar of some kind, in it I saw the Count...and a familiar face. Even if our face was all covered, I couldn't mistake that weird feeling from that person, the one they called Jonathan.
"You...Aren't you the kid from before?" I said in shock. After all that effort to make him stay away, why was he now here, in one of Red R.U.M's hideout.
He seems to be pleased to have shocked me and pushed on it further, "Ah, Hunter! My codename is Hacker. Please to work with you from now on!" He said enthusiastically, like a new recruit.
I glared at the Count, who was sheepishly looking away from my gaze as if he was guilty, "Count, I knew you were sleazy, but to think you'll take a married man, and to here of all places," I looked down at him in utter disappointment, thinking about how I shouldn't let my sister meet him anymore.
"It-It's not what it seems, we're not THAT serious!" He scrambled on excuses I've heard constantly in melodramas.
I completely shut down his attempts, "Uh-huh, sure. Call me back once you change your codename to Homewrecker."
The Count immediately went to the corner to cry in the despair of his own making. What was he expecting really?
Hacker however, quickly came to defend his honor, "Please don't blame him too much, it was me who was tempted!" Not a good start.
Hacker continues, "I...I'm still trying to figure myself out, I want to try more things and get a good look of what I truly want to be! That's why I joined this group and why I want to be with the Count!"
I wasn't the slightest bit convinced of any of their goodwill in this scenario. Red R.U.M has always been filled with all kinds of folks that are okay with most illegal things for the better good, but personally I don't consider cheating in that same category.
Hacker looked at my non-reaction very nervously, "And of course, I have my wife's permission!" He added on, as if that fact makes anything better.
I raised my eyebrow, "To cheat?"
"To explore! I still love her with all my heart, I'll properly fulfill my duty as her husband while I do, I'm always a man of my word!" So he says. I don't know him, so I have no reason to trust his word one-sidedly. And the Count isn't the most upstanding man in the world either, he has moments of...instability.
I squinted my eyes, "Alright, Hacker. Come back once you change your codename to Cheater."
"So harsh! But you're so cool, Hunter!" For some reason, he seems to be extremely delighted to have been insulted.
In Red R.U.M, it's common to find people who are lost in what to do with their life, with their time, with their skills. After all, it is a gathering of people who are fed up with how grim things have slowly become.
Despite loathing their action, I never had any personal grudges against my targets. Had it not been for the money, I might have just left them to the authorities and that was that.
That is...if the situation has gotten so grim, that more and more people find themselves more desperate for what they see as self-preservation.
The authorities are not all seeing, nor are they everywhere, that's part of the reason why they have mostly ignored our vigilante group, as long as we don't do anything too attention-grabbing. That is what the world has come to.
After all, who is to say that one day, they wouldn't spread like the parasites they are and finally directly harm the people that I love?
So I must keep staining my hands with their blood, I must prevent these weeds from spreading, my paradise...they will never be safe until all of these fodders has been erased from this world, forever.
But still...is this truly the only way? Do I...want this to be the way?
Once my sister...finally gives birth to my nephew...will I be able to hold him in my arms, will I deserve his pure smile, without my sins weighing down on him?
I looked onto a mirror to find a disheveled and pale person, with a messily tied black hair with white streaks coming in compared to his youthful face.
People always say that they will clean up their messed later, but when will that time come for me? When can I finally clean myself off and live a happy life?
I stared into my hands, covered in bruises...Can this hand ever lovingly hold anything, "If only I can...just live in a peaceful world, not as Hunter, but as Edward, then I'll gladly throw away this talent of mine for good."
"Prendick!" A loud calling for my name woke me from my stupor, and once again Montgomery's worried face was the one that greeted me, "Are you okay? You just blanked out all the sudden, do you need rest?"
"I...I just...That was...I recognize that person from before, that was...my mother? It can't be, my mother died from an illness..." "No, no, there were other things, it can't be...Those memories had all kinds of things that I never even recall happening!"
"That was probably a glimpse into the truth of this world that you were all so desperate to seek," "Please, Prendick! I don't know much about Hunter other than what Jonathan told me, but I know he respected you greatly! I know you're lost right now, but we can't spare the time. So even if it's just a lie, please, please go help him! I beg you!"
Unsure of what to do with all of these expectant glances at me, I turned to look at Montgomery, but he was just as appalled on what to do...So I turned to my last saving grace, "Eh, um...M-Moreau?"
"He's begging at you, don't look at me," Moreau said, choosing now of all times to be a mentor instead of my boss!! Doesn't he remember I hate crowds, much less being stared at by one?!
...Urghh, oh no, my chest is pumping, my stomach is churning, I feel like I'm legitimately going to throw up soon!!
Perhaps Miss Murray noticed my discomfort and tried to lessen the pressure the best she could, "M-Mr. Prendick, please do it for my sake too! If we lose Jonathan now, then we'll lose everything that we've worked for!" She looked down sadly, "And I'll lose him...I still have so many things I want him to tell me himself!"
Urghh, I could never refuse such an honest request from a pleading and kind lady. That's right, even though I am more of a damsel around 90 percent of the time, I am still a man!
And a man's duty is to be brave for the sake of protecting a woman's heart, no matter what situation it is! I-I can't back down here anyway, not after all of this effort, and certainly Moreau will not let me!
I took a deep breath and tried to sound somewhat confident, "O-Oh...Um...I'll...I'll try!" but I feel like I'm close to running out of breath instead. I turned towards Moreau again with the most pleading eyes I could muster, "Y-you'll come save me if I don't come out, right?!"
"Depends on the situation, we did say that we'll respect Harker's privacy by only letting Hunter in," Moreau astutely reminded me, something I never even knew nor agreed to. I supposed I had dug my own hole by being complacent to Moreau.
"If anything, you are going in all alone would probably be for the best for all of us who are not immortal," Moreau added. An explanation that makes sense, but before I could at least negotiate to bring either Griffin or Villiers if I had to, Moreau quickly shot me down, "Now go, unless you want to be responsible for making Miss Murray a widow for no reason."
Miss Murray reacted as horrified as you'd expect at such callously blunt statement, so she rephrased it a little bit more gently, "D-Don't let it pressure you too much, just do your best, Mr. Prendick!"
She did her best to conceal her worry, but it was obvious we all knew there was a semblance of truth to that statement. But damn, did he needed to add more pressure on my limp shoulders?!
"D-Don't worry, if anything goes wrong, I'll jump in for you, Prendick!" Montgomery's fear towards that idea was clear, but I appreciate that he was brave enough to say it for my sake!
"Alright...I'm going in...all alone...with barely any backup...with barely any weapons...!" I look back one more time, and no one was raising any final objection or words of encouragement.
I took a deep breath, wanting to just get things over with, and walked into the bubble with my eyes closed.
Chapter 6: Chapter 5 (1893, Early Morning)
Chapter Text
Edward Prendick's POV
I expected to be bombarded by some kind of heated flames of hell once I entered, but there was nothing of the sort, so I slowly opened my eyes.
What I found was the exact opposite of my expectation, an empty endless black space greeted me in utter silence.
As my nervousness grew, I looked around in hopes of finding anything resembling the scenes I saw in my dream, anything...but there was truly nothing.
I slowly took a step forward and suddenly a portion of such a scene appeared before me, shocking me to a halt.
It was Harker, conversing with another person who was wearing a black hooded cape. They were sitting down at some sort of bar counter, just there, floating in the darkness. They were chatting rather friendly.
"Your wife is too nice to be giving you all of this freedom to do as you please," the hooded figure said, their voice sounded muffled, but there was a familiar tone to it...Wait...Isn't that just my voice?!
Now that I look closely, the hooded figure's mannerism that feels so familiar yet foreign...Though I never really see myself from this side, I can feel that there's no mistake. so that is...me...as in, Hunter?
Harker answered but his tone was hesitant, "That's...because she trusts me, that I won't run away from her when the time comes for me to make my decision." He twirled his finger around nervously.
"Like I said, that kind of easily trusting people usually gets betrayed," Hunter sighed deeply, even though it was my voice, it has the gruffness of someone who's been through many tough choices, yet there's a hint of genuine care within, "But since I know it's you, you better not do that, not to such a person."
Harker nervously responded, "I...I know, I got that...I...I too, only want her to be happy, I said I would gladly divorce her and give whatever she needed if she wanted, but she was the one who refused," he out his hand onto his left chest, gripping his heart, "She said that my heart is still wavering, so she will only accept that decision when it isn't."
Hunter was silent, as if he was judging Harker, but knows that he had already said his own piece to him multiple times. There was nothing left for an outsider to do, that's the feeling I get.
Harker lifted up his drink and stared vacantly at his own reflection, "I'm afraid, Edward, she's too nice for me and I also don't understand what she sees in me that makes her believe in me so much, in this rotten beaten pile of meat called Jonathan..."
An overwhelming uncertainty was shown clear in his furrowed brow, he truly believed in everything he said about himself.
"Mina is a beautiful, smart, and charming girl. She has everything to go for anyone in the world, so why is she insistent on me?" He said with a resigned chuckle. Hunter remained silent.
Harker tensed up, grabbing the stem of the glass of wine he's holding tightly, "I can't even decide what I want, I'm always afraid of losing it all in the end, sometimes I wish that it could all just end already, that I was never born to begin with."
After a brief intense moment that caught me off guard, his tensed up shoulder lumped back down in depression, "But I'm too much of a coward to even end my own life...I'm a pathetic waste of space, am I deserved to be loved by her?"
Hunter, taken aback, tried his best to comfort him "Jonathan...My bad, I shouldn't have brought it up."
"No, Edward, tell me," Harker insisted, getting closer to Hunter's face, he asked a question, "Who do you see in front of you? Is it Jonathan or someone else?"
Before I could hear Hunter's answer, the scene vapored away like a fog blown by the wind, as if it was just a mirage.
"W-Was that the end of the sequence?" I said to myself, confused. I didn't have the chance to even attempt to wake Harker up. This was certainly different from other dream bubble I had to enter before.
I walked a few step further in, before another hazy scene appeared before me.
There were two young girls in a frilly dress, one was blonde with a twin tail, and the other was brown-haired with a ponytail. Judging from that, it was definitely Miss Westerna and Miss Murray as a child.
Little Miss Westerna was on her knees and crying her eyes out, "Huwaaaaa! Mina, s-stop bullying Mina, huwaaaa!!" She screamed, but there doesn't seem to be anyone around to help her with her pleas.
Then two young boys whose face was muddled appeared, either he can't remember their faces or they're that insignificant to Harker's mind.
They were deliberately holding up a bouquet of flower high up, so the shorter Little Miss Murray cannot reach it, "Give that back!"
"Sure, I'll give it back, if you be my girlfriend!" One of them said in a mocking tone.
I suppose I do have some experience with this when my older sister was picking me up from school, though she beat them up until they were the ones who cried, and she ended up getting grounded.
"In your dreams!" Miss Murray bite back, figuratively. So, she's been such a strong person ever since she was young. Given that she was an orphan, I suppose such a thing was necessary.
Though that being said, her strong will cannot change the fact that she's much smaller and weaker than those boys, and they know it, "You girls are always acting so stuck up, just cuz you're girls! Now you see why the adults coddle you so much!" The other boy said.
During his hustle and bustle to keep away the flowers, he accidentally bumped into the person behind him and fell to the ground unceremoniously.
"Hey, watch it-!!" The boy was silenced abruptly after realizing who it was that he bumped into.
A boy no older than them, with dark red hair and deep blue eyes, it looks exactly like a small Harker. His face was that of looking down at the boy with disgust, "Creep."
I don't think the boy even registered his insult as he hastily stood back up, "Yo-you're that Hackett kid from that creepy house!" He stumbled through his sentence with eyes wide in shock, he doesn't seem to be joking around, "My daddy said your family killed a whole bunch of people!"
"Waaah! he's gonna kill us all! Help, Help!!" The other kid screamed out in genuine fear as they both hurriedly ran away past me, before both of them finally disappeared into the void like mist.
After that scuffle, little Harker's expression looks like he's holding back tears. Considering what those kids just called him, I suppose that's understandable. He turned around and began to leave without saying a word.
Little Mina, however, called out to him before he could scurry away, "W-Wait, I haven't thanked you for helping us!"
Harker looked back, but kept his distance, as if expecting rejection, "I should go, you heard what he said, they're going to have another reason to bother you if I stay any longer."
Little Mina gave him a reassuring smile, "Who cares about them, as far as I'm concerned, I much prefer you than them!"
Little Harker instantly blushed before he hid his face with his hand. His eyes shifting away from her like he was embarrassed, "...Weirdo."
The scene vanished again. Childhood romance, I don't really have much experience on that, but that was a very wholesome scene that warmed my heart. I could see why they have had quite the healthy happy romance before this whole fiasco.
Another scene appeared, this time Harker was significantly older. He was talking with Holmwood, who cheerfully congratulated him, "Jonathan, I heard you're officially engaged to Mina, Congrats!"
Harker slightly blushed, scratching his cheek nervously, "We've been together for a while, I'm happy about the decision...but...Am I really the man for her?"
"Aw come on, at least this one didn't have your parent's input, right?" Holmwood said, trying to cover the implication with some lighthearted tone, "Or do you feel like you're not ready to get serious yet?"
Harker looked down with a sad smile, rubbing his fingers together, "I don't know...Maybe it is too soon, I don't think my heart is prepared to settle down just yet. I mean, Mina has always been good to me, but I don't think I'm good enough for her."
Holmwood looked concerned, but he kept up the cheerful tone to not bring down the mood further, "Hmm, I mean even after engagement, there's still time to think about it first, I'm sure she'll wait for you!" He reassured him.
Harker, however, was not reassured, "But why? I have no value compared to her, why would she wait when there are better suitors out there? For one, not having low self-esteem," he sighed.
Holmwood continues to try an assuage his worries, "I don't know what she thinks specifically, but I know you're a kind person! You're thinking about her happiness after all!" He said, before the scene vanished once more.
Harker's voice rang me a question again, "Edward, what do you think? Am I...kind?"
Suddenly my senses were overcome by the painful smell of smoke and powerful heating blaze, making my lungs burn that I had to cough, struggling to breathe?
"When all of these chaos were all by my hands?" Harker said, sounding almost gleeful, like someone who's lost it, "When I feel good at seeing these trash suffer and beg for their lives? The thrill of having their blood cover my entire skin as I walk upon their corpse?"
I tried to search for the source of the voice or locate an escape from this burning heat. I did what was usually recommended and kneeled down to the ground to avoid the smoke, but my hands touched something that did not feel like floor.
It was then I realized, it was a lifeless body, drenched in blood gushing from an array of slash wounds. I held back my desire to scream and suppress the fear and nausea within me.
Then I realized it wasn't just one, but there were others, strewn about everywhere, hidden by the smoke and fire.
They were all covered with not only slash wounds, but what appears to be pierce and blunt wounds as well, suggesting multiple culprits. They were not burned, nor did they have any signs of life, they were probably dead long before the fire.
It...wasn't my first time seeing a corpse or witness someone dead, I can still remember it when I closed my eyes, how my fellow survivor sank to the bottom of the ocean.
On that island, the battered and disfigured body of Moreau, the bite mark that took a large part of Montgomery away, and those corpses that died of starvation.
Even Harker after being shot in the head by Morris...I really don't want to be a person that can get used to seeing corpses.
Harker's dark laugh echoed throughout the fire, "Hunter too, you've only ever seen the blood you have to spill as a job, but even you felt good killing these scums of our world, right?"
I looked down at my hands, and it was holding a handgun. My hand was drenched in blood, somehow, I could tell there were not my own. I looked at it in confusion, is Harker trying to imply I...or rather Hunter, did all of this...?
I knew that would be the case...But...I just can't register it...Someone like me? I know I can kill beasts or monsters; I could bring myself to do it if there was no choice, or maybe for mercy, bu-but to a living breathing human?!
I-I can't...I couldn't, I shouldn't! I-I don't want to become someone that can get used to murder as an option!!
No, no! I-I don't want to think about that, thinking about taking a life...N-no, as long as it's to live, right? But I had to, I had to! I would have been hunted down by that beast on that island if I didn't!
Ugh, I feel sick. Just the thought of pointing this gun to another human made my chest hurt, yet I felt my mouth grinned ironically, answering Harker by itself calmly, confidently, "You're right, Hacker, I did."
I stopped myself, covering up my own mouth.
What in the world had taken over me? I knew that this was all a dream, and yet it somehow affected me! So scary, I want to go home! I'm not Hunter, and I don't want to be Hunter!
While I was distracted by my own lapse, Harker was nowhere to be seen, nor was there another scene in front of me. I could hear the sounds of mocking laughter echoing throughout the darkness, no source and no end. I felt a chill pass through my spine.
"This is so creepy, where's the real person dreaming?!" I yelled out in frustration. I should have at least dragged someone here with me, it's all so scary how easily I could be swept up by all of this when I'm alone.
With how I was, I began to doubt that I was even Hunter, that everyone placing their hopes into me was mistaken. The person I heard spoke with my voice in my memory sounded nothing like me and shouldn't be me.
Hunter was the person that everyone respected, he took charge when it was needed of him and was relied on by everyone. He was a loner, but admired, talented, yet remorseful...while I'm...I'm just Edward Prendick, a guy you can find anywhere.
"Poor Prendick, I too loathe my other self," Harker's disembodied voice echoed throughout the darkness to mock me, as if it can hear my thoughts.
A long mirror appeared in front of me, but the image reflected was that of Jonathan Harker, looking at me passively
The disembodied voice continue wistfully, "Kind hearted, hardworking, even through all the pain he had suffered, he endured on and fought for the sake of his wife," the image of Harker smiled at me kindly, a genuine smile of no hidden madness, "Like a true main character. How enviable, isn't it? I can't even decide if I want to be a villain or a hero."
"Hero..." I lingered on the word. For some reason, I felt a hint of sadness from the thought of it, recalling the memories I briefly saw...This group they were in, Red R.U.M, they were in a sense heroes, those who united together to create a better world.
But what most want to forget is that the path of any hero's journey is paved with blood, a seemingly never-ending war that only serves to weigh everyone down with sins, and no happy ending for every single one.
In stories, the enemy you kill are often monsters or demons who do evil deeds, thus not deserving of pity or mercy or even mourning what could have been, to spare us from guilt, but...the people these guys kill are fellow humans like them.
Their sins may classify them as monsters all the same, but they too had stories, stories that branched off the wrong way somewhere. Stories that had to be ended for the better, only for the same thing to happen again and again.
Then what differentiate Red R.U.M from the criminals that they killed? That they did it for the good of the world? That they had good intentions?
Then what happens when someone else does an evil deed for the sake of good?
And...What if there is nothing good at the end of their path, and they just can't see it yet?
When you call the evil that you do are for "the sake of a better world", how long will it take until it becomes nothing more than an excuse for you to push your own value, a justification for your reckless actions?
At that point, there's only a few stone throws away until you will become a villain yourself. After all, who in this world has the "correct" idea of what is "right"? Who in this world can never be wrong even once?
In the end, what you're doing is a crime, that's all.
Good or evil intent, none of it matters, because anger begets more anger, yet if kindness begets apathy, there's nothing most can do all by themselves.
In the end...will anything they do, the hunter and the hunted, will it have any meaning? This cycle of destruction and death, will it ever lead anywhere...but annihilation on both ends?
Will anyone ever get to live a happy ending in the world Red R.U.M's making? Will anyone ever at all?
Harker then questioned me, "If you have a choice, Prendick, would you rather be Edward Prendick or would you rather be Hunter?"
I stood there silently. On one hand, there was no denying Hunter was a dedicated, talented, and reliable person when it comes to his "job"...but on the other, he surely has his own weaknesses, his love for his family, his lack of people skill.
I felt a sense of melancholy in Hunter's blunt words, one that feels...disappointed that the world remained the same, even when his life had changed so much. It's clear if there had been another way, he would have chosen that one, most would.
In a way, he and I aren't so different, forced by fate to live in the shadows of deceit, in fear of becoming hunted ourselves and bringing misfortune onto our loved ones for our choices.
In my silence, Harker answered his own question, "If I can choose, I want to be Jonathan Harker. A man who has a clear purpose in life, whenever he looks into the mirror, no matter how worn down it looks, I'm sure he's proud of what he sees."
"But me?" The Harker reflected in the mirror suddenly shifted into a crazed smile, in a blink of an eye, the mirror suddenly cracked and burst into pieces, shocking me, "What a joke."
"Jonathan, I...I'm not sure what Hunter would say, or what you want to hear someone say, but-!" I paused to gather my thoughts so I can word them correctly, "You can still become the Jonathan Harker you wish to be! There's still time!"
Harker took a hitched breath "Time? Time??" He said offended. D-Did I said the wrong thing?! But shortly after that, he began to laugh, a resigned laugh, "Haha...I see, you still don't remember, how nice."
"What do you mean?" I questioned him, wanting to understand just what it is we're missing, this truth that these people seem to be endlessly toiling over. Whatever it is that caused Jonathan to be so volatile.
"There is no time, not in the way you think, Prendick," He said, as vague and condescending as ever, but it was obviously layered with a sense of submission.
"The world is already doomed, it's nothing more than a glorified zoo, do you understand now?!" He howled at me with a lump in his throat, "Everything I have done, everything that I would have done, it's all meaningless from the start! That's why it's all such a joke!!"
A scene appeared again, this time, it was a familiar location. It was Count Dracula's basement that we were all currently in, specifically right in front of the door to it.
The Count and Harker seemed to be in the middle of a mutual conversation. I noticed Harker's eyes were still blue, so this probably took place sometime after he regained his memories and before he was turned into a vampire.
"Jonathan, put your cross on that door," Count Dracula said, before...quite comically...running and hiding behind the corner of the halls to prevent himself from seeing the cross.
There is...something uncannily adorable about seeing such a formidable scary foe show a casual side in a way that can only be seen by someone they're comfortable with.
Jonathan chuckled and did as he asked and returned to his side, but not without questioning his request, "I get why you wouldn't want the cross, but then why do I have to put it here? Isn't it better to throw it away where you can't see?" He asked, a sensible question.
Suddenly, Count Dracula put both of his arms onto Harker's shoulder, looking very serious, "...Listen, Jonathan, I love you as who you are," he said with a straight face with no prefaces.
Harker's face immediately turned beet red, "H-Huh, what do you mean?! That's a little sudden, isn't it?" He said stuttering, but Count Dracula's overall disposition was much more solemn.
"You'll understand what I mean soon," Count Dracula let out a small sad smile, one that genuinely makes him look more human, "And when that time comes...I'm sorry, to have brought you there."
However, in terms of what he's talking about, neither I nor Harker knows what he was talking about.
Count Dracula then let go of his shoulders, and attempts to lighten up the mood, "I doubt you will ever need to use that room, I will make sure that you won't have to," he said.
What specific usage he is referring to, neither of us knew again. I would assume from what I know now, it would be referring to either the coffin that was in the middle of the room or the marks that surrounded it.
"Don't worry, I'll always be there for you, to protect you like I promised, this time for sure!" Count Dracula said confidently, before the scene vanished into thin air.
Suddenly I hear a loud anguished sound of what can barely be described as a human's, "LIAR!! LIAR!! WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU KEPT FROM ME, LIAR!!" I heard screams of utter betrayal, multitudes of screams layered on top one another it penetrated deep into my ears, that I had to cover them.
It was all so overwhelming, agony, confusion, grief, anger, fear, despair. They all mixed together and weight down on not only my ears, but my heart and mind.
The voices lashed out all of the grievances on top of one another, that it made anything they said almost incomprehensible.
But there was something they all shared in unison, the feeling of being left in the dark, "EVERYONE, EVERYONE KEPT EVERYTHING FROM ME, WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!" They'd scream.
There truly was nothing worse than being left in the dark when you know something is wrong. Maybe that was why he found pleasure in being vague with us, a sort of pettiness towards his own powerlessness to his own lack of answer.
The guttural animalistic screams itself were agonizing, shaking me down to my core that I couldn't even move, only close my eyes and pray for it to stop.
But then, just as quick as it arrived, it was now dead silent. The peace felt eerie after all of that sensory overload.
When I opened my eyes, there was a familiar looking journal lying in front of me, the voice spoke again, in a defeated tone, "Ever since he was gone, ever since I lost my journal, my sense of self continues to keep fading away rapidly," as he said that, the journal too faded away into nothing, "Even when I write new entries, the more I read, the less of me I feel."
"Edward, help me," his voice whispered.
I felt a slight tint of irritation. I understand why his mind would be in a mess, but I was already doing my best to help him when he has inflicted nothing to me but pain!
"I can't help you if you keep vanishing like this, damn it!" I screamed out into the never-ending void, receiving no reply, "If you want me to solve your problem, then come out here and tell me what it is!"
Of course, I didn't expect him to answer right away, I was merely venting out my frustration, but to my surprise, a door appeared in front of me. On top of it, there was a sign that said "3". I'm not sure what it meant, perhaps the entrance number?
I thought that, maybe, Harker was finally willing to speak to me...Well, that was the best-case scenario anyway, but it was better than standing here in the void.
I gently opened the door, and what greeted me inside was a large decently furnished theater room that could fit hundreds of people within its seats. Of course, it was completely empty, which was rather unsettling.
Suddenly, the door behind me slammed shut without warning. I quickly ran and tried to turn the knob, but it was no use, The door's locked?! Oh no!" I tried pushing and break down the door, not a single budge.
"Is there someone there?! Harker?! Anyone!" I doubt that calling for help would mean anything, but I still felt like I had to try anyway. Unfortunately, all I could hear was my own futile scream echoing throughout the large room
It would appear that whoever answered my previous call wanted me to remain here and play along if I wanted answers. At least, that's what I'm hoping, or else...
So, I did what I always do when I go to a theatre, I simply took an empty seat near me and sat on it. The lights slowly dimmed, as if it was only waiting for me, giving credit to my theory.
I have to say, staying in such a large theatre all by myself is a different kind of fear than never-ending void. I decided to bring out my Monty and have him neatly sit on my lap, at least to keep an illusion I was not alone.
After a few second of my nervousness, preparing my heart for what I'm about to see, or perhaps to run to the door and try my luck, the curtain split opened to cut me off, beginning what I assumed to be a play about Harker.
The scene opened with an array of disorienting red light. In the middle of the stage stood a man that looked and dressed like Jonathan Harker, but had significantly more sickly pale skin, looking almost like a corpse.
His face was covered in scars, and his hair was messy, unkept, a large contrast to the usual well-put together Harker. His expression was downtrodden and depressing, but I sense a far more hidden, more complex emotion deep down...something...tragic...and sinister.
A voice echoed out from nowhere, as if it was an invisible figure looming over him, speaking with detached authority, "Congratulations on your graduation. As you're the sole survivor of this current batch and singlehandedly defeating your predecessor, from now on, you will be given the name of J. Hackett."
Hackett didn't move or respond, but I could tell those hidden emotions stirring violently, as he attempted to not lose control...not right now. That was what I felt from seeing him grit his teeth in frustration.
The stage went dark, and moments later, it went to the next scene. J. Hackett was standing in front of what appears to be a makeshift grave, carving something with his knife.
All I could make out was a single letter in each row, almost like it was a list of the alphabet, but there were no J and two Zs.
Like an actor would, he turned towards the audience's seat, describing his inner thoughts to me, "On the day of my graduation, I was permitted to leave behind the dark and gloomy cave that we lived in since we could barely talked, filled with nothing but death and sorrow, only to live a world filled with the same thing."
He looked towards the makeshift grave solemnly, "The only thing that changed was that there was no cave, and there was no family left for me, only targets to kill."
"Inscribed are all 25 of my family and my 1 teacher, their corpses were left to rot in the cave that have forced us to kill each other for the right to freedom that was never real," He gently touched the inscription he had carved upon the rock, making sure to linger on them enough to tell me they were all precious to him, "They have stolen everything from us, leaving us unnamed, unmarked, unloved, and eventually forgotten. Forgive me, for this pathetic display of remorse and grief was all I could do for you all."
To kill each other just to live as an assassin, ever since they were children...I couldn't possibly imagine such a life. I was fortunate enough to have to deal with only beasts...beasts that had barely any sense of self. This was...a fight against other children, who were all forced into the same position as himself.
I couldn't imagine what kind of mindset that would shape a person into, I wouldn't be surprised if you would have to suppress your humanity, just to spare your mind from the horrors, all so you can live another day of it.
Yet, despite everything, despite killing some of them, despite some of them attempting to kill him, he still remained to mourn for them, to remember them, to thank them. His heart was very kind, but the world was exceedingly cruel to him in return.
Perhaps in his mind, he knows the truth, that none of them were to blame for what they had to do. Regardless of if he had killed or been killed, someone will eventually be left standing, and that person would have either died or "graduated" all the same.
It was an inescapable situation from all sides, and the only ones truly to blame are the people who put them in there.
"For what reason did they live, for what reason did they die, for what reason do I even continue to live?" He said, sounding so defeated. There was a sense of understanding for me, I had similar thoughts when I became the lone survivor of Noble's Isle.
Many times, I questioned why I continued to live the way I did, if I was ever going to get off that island, if I was even going to be found, dead or alive. I always buried those thoughts deep in me and just continued to hope, even if it's a false one, because I did not want to feel the pain of dying of starvation or to the mauling of beasts.
The light suddenly grew dimmer as the spotlight focused on J. Hackett, lifting his knife which reflected one last shining flicker of hope in his life, "There was only one thing left for me. Revenge."
It was a story that has been told many times, but still, it never fails to evict a feeling of sadness and hopelessness. When a man had suffered so much, yet obtained so little, that there was only ever one goal left for them.
Every version of the tale, a constant reminder that the life we always deem as precious could be taken away in a second by mere whims of fate.
Hackett then asked a question, "To the world, can I ask you this, does someone like me, with my bloodstained soul, even deserve to live...to love?"
The stage lights dimmed entirely as the silence let the question lingered in my mind. A soul that was starved for love, was denied it, can never reached it, must destroy it, only knowing the warmth of blood to comfort it. A truly pitiful existence.
Hackett...judging from his appearance, it's almost certain that he was related to Harker, but in what way, I was not sure. After all, his question seems to imply that he never had love, but I suppose that doesn't mean he didn't have descendant.
Having a man that was raised to be a killer as your ancestor though...That would definitely not be something you want. The past is in the past, until it is used as a tool for submission in the present.
The stage light turned on again, but this time, there was nothing there, not even Harker.
"You are a rich kid, aren't you?"
I jumped out of my seat in pure utter horror at the sudden voice beside me, grabbing Monty to prepare and flee as soon as I could. But when I looked at my assailant, it was only Harker, or at least, someone who looked like him, who teasingly laughed at the fact I almost died of a heart attack.
This Harker looked much more well kept, perfectly so, not having a single imperfection in his face that I can see, wearing a refreshing smile and looking far more approachable. A huge contrast to the worn-down J. Hackett with his healthy complexion as well.
He then started walking to the stage, while speaking like a know-it-all, "I, Joan, can tell that despite how you chose to dress, how you behave still show your status, from the way you stand, the way you talk," Joan said, analyzing me as if it were a normal thing to do, "And the way you avoid direct eye contact out of fear of what you see, but still place it high enough for people not to suspect a thing."
I was becoming rather annoyed, this Joan scared the life out of me, and is now reviewing me as if I had asked. But if this one is also part of Harker's history, perhaps J. Hackett's descendant, then Joan might also be in the same house as him, merely thinking out loud for my benefit.
Joan gestured elegantly upon the stage, so perfectly it was almost uncanny, "Even in the face of all your fear and suffering, braving yourself to face the world like nothing is wrong, a mindset built upon your society's teachings to be perfect at all times, to be mindful of others' peace of mind."
As he continued on, it was becoming clear that he wasn't only talking about me, but the way he views the world. His warm smile turned to a grimace of utter disgust, "This world is utterly disgusting, isn't it?"
In a blink of an eye, that beautiful angelic face of Joan had transformed into a vengeful and angry monster. Like a vase that finally broke down from all the poison it was forced to hold, he hurled all of his pent up frustration at the audience.
"Don't you want to tell me to my face, that I'm a bother? Annoying? A pain in the ass? Spit on me and make me thank you? Come on, don't all humans desire to have someone to step on?!" He screamed, every single accusation sounded like it was something personal he experienced. So vindictive was he to the people he's accusing, that I felt a tinge of guilt, when I had done nothing to him.
Joan began to laugh, as the stage light turned into that nauseating red color, "Haha! I understand not wanting to look at my face, I could never look at them either," he grimaced his teeth, "Those bastards up high in their own fucking shits, just thinking about it makes me feel so disgusted my perfectly honed expression will contort, and then it's off to training for me! For what?! Offending those pile of whiny babies fed gold everyday?! FUCK OFF!!!" He kicked the stage so loudly that I wouldn't be surprised if he'd broke through it.
Joan took in heavy breathes as he tried to control his hurricane of emotions. Before long, he regained his perfect composure, but it was not as flawless as before, a hint of rage still brewed from under it, ready to burst at any time.
His voice now sounded strained, not from anger, but from resignation, "But I could have hold it in, you know...follow everything they say, shut up when they tell me to, not say a peep to anyone about anything, lie to everyone without a hint of it showing in my face," He let out a wide, forced smile, almost like he believed that if he did, things will be better, "Because they taught me it was the right thing to do, and as a perfect member of society, as an example of what could be, I have to follow it."
Joan's expression then turned dark as the lighting above him covered his face. He whispered, like he had nothing left in the world to hope for, "So...why..."
There was a disembodied voice of some sort of chaotic scene, perhaps Joan's recollection. I would have appreciated the scene itself actually being performed, but after hearing that familiar sound of gunshots that shook me to my core, I quickly changed my mind.
The smell of that familiar iron soon entered my senses. My mind instinctively warned me of danger, reminding me of all of those terrible memories...
T-Those...Moreau, and Montgomery...Those decaying corpses on the boat, I can see it vividly in my head...ughh
N-No, it's a mere drop in the sea of discomfort I'm already facing, I can handle it, I can! I just...I clenched Monty a little tighter...I-It helped a bit, I think.
Harker, or perhaps more specifically, Joan's voice desperately rang out, like he was pushing his vocal chords to the limit so it can reach someone, someone that can no longer be reached, "Doctor! Doctor! No, Doctor! Please answer me!!"
An authoritative voice, reminding me of a commanding officer, coldly said, "Target confirmed neutralized. Take the victim away from the premise immediately!"
Soon I hear the sound of Joan struggling, "Stop it! Stop it! Let me go! Doctor needs help! And I'm no victim, he didn't harm me at all! He didn't even fight back!! That's against the law!! How could you just-"
Joan's desperate plea was cut short by the sound of a strong slap, a loud thud, followed by Joan groaning. Even without vision, my mind can so easily fill in the blanks.
The other voice spitted back at Joan, belittling him like he was lesser than a human, "Shut up you spoiled brat, don't you see you caused everyone enough trouble already! Have some shame!"
I can hear Joan trying his back to hold back his sobs, not understanding what's happening to him. That's how I know that this man was not here to save a victim of anything, this was all deliberate.
"And that bastard, is a scum who kidnapped you and put all kinds of misinformation inside your head, a villain should always be punished," He coldly stated, as if it was a fact, but it sounded more like brainwashing to me.
"A...villain...?" Joan repeated, sounding confused with everything going on around him. But then, it seems he finally came to a realization, into the reality of his situation.
His voice went low, laced with the coldest, yet most poisonous venom a human voice could muster, "Who was the villain again?"
The information I got was sparse, yet it said enough. Joan was likely strictly raised to be a flawless good person...but it was done from their subjective point of view. In reality, he was little more than an obedient dog to them, who doesn't realize they way they treated him was wrong.
This doctor, the one who was shot to death, must have realized how abusive this treatment was, and he was eliminated for trying to make him realize it. Unfortunately, it did work...just in the most cruel and heartbreaking ways possible.
The next thing I see was the lights blinding my vision with red, as the sounds of thousands harrowing screams begged to be spared from death, as the smell of thousands of blood mix together creating the most putrid of scent. It was so horrible I could faint at any moment.
And then...only silence, eerie silence.
It probably took years and years for this breaking point to be reached, yet it only took mere moments for all of it to end. No one stopped the double-edged sword they were invertedly creating and fell victim to its betrayed rage.
I could only hear a crazed laughter belonging to what once was a child. A child like any other that wanted to please the people who raised him, believing everything he did was for the better, even when receiving nothing.
Not a single person who raised him truly believed what they preached to him, and in the end, Joan became the truest reflection of all of their character, their hypocrisy, and their karma.
I...I could never understand his state of mind, how it was to be raised so callously, how it felt when his entire world came crashing down on him in an instant. Not when I have a family who loved me so much.
All I could say...was that the people who raised him had miserably and utterly failed him, broken his mind, and taken the life of someone who tried to do what they couldn't.
This moment was avoidable, yet none of them cared before then. Just like with Moreau, they all simply paid the price of their arrogance of playing God, paid it with their life.
Though with Moreau, I felt he was much more self aware, given he died with such serene expression, as if accepting his comeuppance. Even he would never stoop this low...w-would he?
I would at least...like to believe so.
I could hear Joan's heavy breathing, as if he was injured, "Hey...Am I really what they say? Am I really a failure? Or...can a truly good human ever exist?" I heard the sounds of a gun clicking, "I guess, it will be better if no one ever knows," That was Joan's final word before a gunshot rang out, one final time, and the stage went dark.
This part...was far more brutal and heart wrenching, despite the fact the previous one involved an actual trained assassin. Perhaps that is also a way to present what kind of person they are, and how their life had ended.
To the man who was forced to kill from a young age, he had a melancholic, detached, and somber perspective, who longs for normalcy. To the man who was forced to be flawless, a single crack was all it took to cause a massive explosion.
If these two were somehow involved with Harker, I could imagine many ways this can ruin one's chance at a normal life. But still, I don't exactly know what their connection to each other are yet.
Before I could really think about it, the stage lit up again. This time, the colors and intensity was normal, as if nothing had happened. On the stage was another one who looked like Harker.
He looks clean and proper, but only to the level of it being...someone I can see walking normally down the street, blending into the crowd. In other words, he looks very ordinary.
"Hello! It's a good day today!" His smile was far more genuine, his tone friendly and upbeat. He was wearing what I can assume is a Priest garb, with a cross necklace to match, perhaps he is in training?
He put his hands into his ear, posing quite dramatically, "Hmm? Your face is saying, 'Oh, John, my dear silly brother, it's never a good day in this cliffside church of ours~!" He lowered his voice to mimic this brother of his in a teasing way, "Well, the weather may be wuthering in the heights, but at least we're all together, right, brother?"
Unlike the previous two, this John has quite the natural charisma in his speech and gestures. He seems like someone who could easily get along with anyone and be well liked by everyone.
Nothing too bright, or too cold, his demeanor was just like his blue eyes, warmly reflecting the calm blue sky.
"No matter what struggle we face, I'm sure that God will protect us all, so long as we continue forward!" An optimist and a believer of God, it was like a palette cleanser after all of the misfortune and death I had to bear witness to.
The vibe I got was completely different from J. Hackett and Joan. John was...completely normal, a person you can see anywhere, just living their ordinary life.
Particularly, I could feel from his presence alone, he was someone raised as any child should, filled with love and care, and he wanted to share that happiness with those around him.
"I always believed that God will send us struggles for the sake of seeing us grow, that is why I must always think positively," He determinedly said, "Our lives are not the best nor is it the worst, and I will always be grateful to have been found by such a wonderful family!"
That means that he is adopted by the church? So he doesn't know who his family is. I suppose I also don't know if Joan was adopted or not, or that any of them are related at all. I just assumed so because the way the play is presented and how they look so much alike.
Though I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, that this overabundance of happiness shown right now, was just the calm before the storm. I had hoped that...at the very least, one of these Harkers would have led a normal life.
"Of course, I would have never expected my life to be anything so special," His bright smile turned into a dark frown, "Until that day, where those people in lab coats barged into our home."
"One of them forced their way to get me alone and then gave me a file of two men, asking me to read it," He said before his expression turned sour, "I didn't know who they were, but they had my face and...and, they have done many terrible things!"
I presumed it was J. Hackett and Joan. His reaction is justified, he probably didn't know he even had relatives. And when you're just given such information without warning? That you're related to criminals? You start to doubt your past actions, I know that I did.
"I didn't want to know more, so I told them to just leave me alone and I tried not to think about it, but they instead started a smear campaign against the church and my small town," He clenched his fist on his clothes, trying his best to control his emotions, "They forced everyone to choose to either sacrifice me or deal with their harassment until they caved."
That's quite the bold move, if they went so far as to smear their own reputation as well, then they must have close to none to begin with or they are extremely desperate to get John to go with them. But why? Was John special somehow?
John turned his head to the side, talking to someone, "Father, the church, is it being harassed because of me? Because I refuse to return with them?" He asked, obviously feeling a huge amount of guilt for indirectly causing trouble.
His Father's voice was firm yet warm, he replied softly at him, "John, my dear boy, my sweetest boy, your father has gone through much worse action than this pathetic display," he added, "Even if what they say is true, they have no right to your life. Whether they got their pockets lined up or not, none of us will give you up, John."
Then John, turned back to me and began to violently bite into his nails in distress, feeling even more pressure instead.
"That ■■■■ is a powerful company, they have some shady influence and money to boot. I-If things escalate further, if they used their full power, what will happen to Father...what will happen to my brothers?" He anxiously pondered.
Poor thing was put between a rock and a hard place. As someone who had been suddenly been thrusted to dangerous situations, I understood what it feels like to choose the option that let you live over other people over your morals.
I wondered then, what if my family were the ones with me when I was stranded on that little dinghy. What if it was little Charles, who had so much more future left for him than me?
I...I wouldn't know what to do either. Would I have enough courage to tell him the only choice left to ensure he could survive, even a bit longer? Could I even stomach the idea of burdening him with such a thing?
Perhaps that is why those Ipecacuanha sailors were both just rotting lifelessly in their lifeboat, fully intact. Rotten as they are, they were not monsters.
John began sobbing and grabbed his chest as if his heart was in pain, "Their dreams, if I keep denying what fate awaits me, will they have to abandon their precious dreams, their entire future? All because of me?"
"That's okay, John, dreams are plenty, but there's only one of you!" One of the brothers confidently reassured him.
But John looked...oddly horrified at the reassurance. "...Y-Yeah..." he nervously said, his sadness quickly turned into something like...guilt, or fear, as if he was unsure of the answer himself. That's certainly interesting.
This group that's going after him, I would assume they were searching for him specifically because of his connection with either J. Hackett or Joan. But now that I think about it, for what reason?
If it's something to do with legal punishment, is something like that even a law? That when the main perpetrator is not caught, they can catch any of their relative, even distant?
No, if it was truly something legal, they wouldn't resort to harassment as a way to force him to comply. So either they can't do it any other way, or they have a different goal.
But there's so many blanks here between all three stories, I might as well be shooting my theories into the dark abyss, hoping one will stick. Best to just remember all of this for Moreau to figure out, as usual.
The once calm blue sky suddenly turned dark and cloudy, followed by the sounds of grumbling thunder. Perhaps symbolizing that it was about to pour heavily on John's life.
As the sound of thunder and wild rain raged on, John's mental state was just as chaotic, "I just...I can't take it anymore! So long as I exist, those with only greed in their eyes will keep chasing me, so long as I exist, I have to suffer through the sins of which I was never involved in!" He screamed out, feeling powerless to do anything.
These group seems to be chasing him for some kind of worth he holds, but ironically, unlike with J. Hackett and Joan, John was so ordinary and normal that he couldn't possibly even attempt to fight back. I doubt he even knows how to handle a gun.
I...I resonated with him. Holmwood, Harker, even Count Dracula...they all regarded me like I was special, because I was this Hunter fellow somehow. But right now, I'm just Edward Prendick, I'm no more special than any other people would be in my situation.
John pointed his head up to the sky, pouring his grievances out to the Gods themselves, "Why...Why did you let this happen? I don't understand...Why would the world give me this trial, when all of that will mean nothing once the cycle begins again..."
The cycle, he says...Is he talking about this cycle that seems like a curse for the Harkers? That someday, somehow, they will all suffer immensely and die in pain, for some kind of punishment?
A literal curse upon their bloodline...with how things has been going, that doesn't sound impossible.
John fell to the ground on his knees and hit it loudly with his fist, "How...How can I even live happy, knowing that my present will affect someone else's future, that they will have to suffer the same fate as I?!" He yelled in frustration.
His frustration quickly turned into dejection. His head landed on the ground, as he hugged his arms as a futile attempt to comfort himself, with tears swelling in his eyes, "All I wanted...was to go to university, get married, and have kids, and-and be with my family. Are my past sins so heavy, that I do not deserve it?"
He looked up to the sky again, questioning God's plan with him, "If I am not deserving in your eyes, then why do you let me exist in the bliss I wished before robbing it away from me? Why do you let those demons dressed in falsehood continue their ways constantly, but ignore others who suffer under them?!" He passionately shouted.
The doubt in him was growing, the more hopeless he felt. It's hard to continue believing in someone or something, when the result was nothing but pain. Forcing someone to become something it's not...that resulted in Moreau dying.
I want to believe that God has a plan for all of this, like He always does...but...it's quite hard to just sit here and watch as his life gets ruined, after all of that misfortune. It's really getting hard for me to see what he's even supposed to do here.
"This punishment, this unfairness is too cruel, I don't understand what is the point of punishment to those that don't deserve it, my family...my family has done nothing wrong," John tried to reasoned with his own questions and doubts, he poured his entire heart, begging for an answer, any answer, "Are these sufferings not enough? How long will this go on for? As long as I live...will I be the one bring ruin to the future of those who love me?!"
There was nothing that seemed like a reply. Unlike the Bible, there were no prophets, no angels, or anything that came down to give him guidance. There was only the cold, wet, stormy rain pouring endlessly.
I could literally hear the sound of his heart breaking, and his faith shattering. His previous optimistic and positive attitude were washed away by the cold harsh reality.
More than anything, I felt a semblance of what I once felt, when I was so stuck inside my own head, that I felt there was only one way out. Those blank, empty eyes, looking at nothing in the distant. It was the look of someone that didn't care to continue anymore.
I closed my eyes tightly, and gripped Monty as hard as I could. I...I don't want to see, I don't want to be reminded of it, especially not with someone like this, who deserved it the least!
I could hear the sound of John's shoes heading to the back of the stage, as he spoke in a low hitched voice, "If you will not give me an answer...If this body of mine is cursed to bring my past sins to everyone around me, to myself, and to all of my future selves, and to their beloveds, then..." He paused, a brief moment of hesitation, "I choose to end this cycle right now. Forever."
He chuckled, a resigned chuckle, "They say that those who repent will be forgiven...Then I will bear the burden, until the time comes."
The sound of the stormy rain continued mercilessly as John's voice completely vanished. When I slowly opened my eyes, there was...nothing there, but darkness. There was no blood, no anger, no vengeance...it was just...a hopeless meaningless tragedy.
The whole theatre suddenly lit up, signaling that was the end of the...whatever tales of continuous unfortunate misfortune it was that I had to watch.
There was a click sound from the door, and I can tell that it was now unlocked. I rushed for it before it decided otherwise and closed it as soon as I entered.
However, the relief I felt from escaping the theater was soon replaced by the realization that I was now inside of what appears to be someone's office. I attempted to open the door, but of course, it was locked yet again, this time with an actual lock.
From a trapped audience to a trapped detective, I suppose it's time to finally use my brain actively myself to figure out how to escape.
I just...have to try my best to distract myself from the fact that if I get stuck here, I will be even more isolated and trapped than when I was drifting in the sea.
Ahh! No, no! Don't think like that! I've grown since then, I can do it, I can solve this predicament on my own!
Just...I might need a moment to catch my breathing...before I faint from hyperventilating.
WAFgwakV428KYNPTrQcegsk (Guest) on Chapter 5 Wed 19 Nov 2025 05:16PM UTC
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