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The wind wuthered hard about the ancient and half-mouldered castle; autumnal rain beat down like the vengeance of God upon the unholy inhabitant now hunting in that icy moonless night. My knees knocked and my heart pounded. Nevertheless I began my descent of the spiral stone stairs, illuminated only by the lantern in my hand, toward the vast windowless room at the bottom of the keep and the stone sarcophagus therein.
"Dr. Wilson."
The leaden voice behind me made me whirl, my heart in my throat.
Darkness like the night itself stood at the top of stairs, blocking my escape. Eyes like silver daggers glittered in the yellow lantern-glow with none of the light's warmth. "Join me, Doctor. I have a second stone casket that will suit you admirably, and I long for companionship here."
A shriek of terror rose in my–
A dry laugh from my friend made me raise my head from the lurid prose under my pen. The windows were open to let the cooler evening air in after the sweltering August day. "Holmes?"
The vampire with whom I shared a London flat chuckled over the evening Times from where he sprawled on the settee. "Watson, listen to this. 'The celebrated Inspector Lestrade has once again brought despair to the criminal classes'."
Laughter rose in my belly.