Chapter Text
2/8
Time alone will tell the extent to which these records may prove meaningful, and yet I find myself turning towards keeping them despite every attempt to do otherwise. There is certainly plenty that warrants my attention, and yet, I have found my hands to be tied in terms of taking any meaningful action.
What is one to do when the world turns on its head, all at once upending any certainty of its nature and operation? Revelations of the kind are not unknown to me, which has unfortunately led to a misplaced conviction that there was nothing left in the world that could surprise me.
It is small consolation, I suppose, that the source of this knowledge is at least fitting in terms of being one of few things on this earth that yet remain able to faze me. Already had I been shaken enough by the sudden appearance of my visitor, even while unaware of what he had yet to reveal.
Albert Harebrayne: a name which even writing down causes a strange sort of flutter in my breast. It was not a name that I expected to see on a telegram, though perhaps I should have been prepared considering his last visit was equally spontaneous and unannounced. Well – perhaps not the visit itself, I should reiterate, but at least prompt communication that it was to occur.
Enthusiastic and bright as ever, Albert had once again returned to the city of London. His reasons for doing so remained unapparent, but nevertheless I set off to greet my old compatriot as soon as possible – a task easier said than done, considering the paper had announced his intention to arrive at my office that same day, and that was certainly something Albert had not at all managed to do.
I will admit that anxieties took a larger grip upon my heart than I would otherwise acknowledge, not a little fueled by the confusion of the moment. In truth, I had been prepared to search for hours if necessary, though I had little idea where at all to begin.
Fortunate, indeed, that I found him rather quickly, though the manner in which this occurred did little to assuage my confusion. In fact, not a great amount of either time nor distance passed before I succeeded in my endeavor; my oldest friend awaited me beneath the shadow of a wall in the courtyard just outdoors, mere feet from the front entrance.
Even upon a first glance I could tell something plagued his nerves; brow wrinkled, he nibbled endlessly upon his thumb as if in thought, but something about his expression suggested whatever occupied his mind was not some scientific endeavor.
Before I had time to consider the matter further, he caught sight of me and visibly brightened – an expression which even now remains vivid in my mind despite how it should have later been overwritten.
“Oh! Barok!” He greeted, and even at the time I can recall the worry which seized my heart upon perception of the relief held within the simple exclamation of my name. “I – I’d half thought something had gone wrong with my telegram. Though I suppose it’s not the telegram that isn’t where it was supposed to be, but – but me –”
Frowning, he’d begun to abuse his thumb once more, only to wince and force his hand back to his side. Hardly had I managed to gather the breath to greet him and inquire as to the necessity for his visit – as well as his remaining outdoors rather than coming inside to find me – before he’d resumed speaking: an energetic tirade of words that spilled forth from his lips with an increasing intensity, yet somehow simultaneously an incongruent nonchalance.
It was from this flood of information – so significant I very well thought it might have managed to bowl me over – that I managed to gather several important facts, the likes of which have forever altered our relationship.
1. Albert’s visit was indeed spontaneous, and more so than the last.
2. His motivations for doing so include seeking support from the most trustworthy individual that came to mind.
3. Said person is, as a reader may infer by this point in the narrative, myself.
4. The confusion I had experienced over the past several minutes did nothing at all to hinder my heart’s reaction to the previous fact.
5. Albert has, by his own matter-of-fact assertion, become what he defines as a “vampyre.”
At first, I will confess to thinking the matter to be some sort of joke. It was an idea quickly left behind, considering that Albert’s tendencies have never lent themselves towards that particular brand of humor, and I presume him to be equally well aware of my own inability to find it amusing.
Hypothesis discarded, I then questioned whether some accident had occurred which had caused my old friend to become confused, or whether he had perhaps been tricked into believing something foolish by those with ill intent attempting to take advantage of his naivety.
When I suggested as much, having gone pale and taken a moment to find my voice, he was quick to refute the idea. An accident had occurred, he stated, then proceeded to contradict himself by stating that something couldn’t be considered an accident if it was the intent of an experiment, even if the result itself wasn’t expected.
“Forgive the interruption,” I stammered, “but do you mean to tell me you were intending to become a. . . a . . .?”
In response, he gave a sheepish smile and a brisk nod. The latter served as confirmation to my query, combined with his reply of “well, in a sense, you see. . .”
The former served to reveal two small, pointed teeth, considerably longer and sharper than the rest within his mouth.
I then found it necessary to steady myself upon a nearby pillar.
“Oh no – I haven’t, I haven’t frightened you, have I, Barok?” worried, Albert pressed a hand to his mouth and shuffled awkwardly in place.
Unwilling even in my daze to allow him to feel guilty over anything at all, I shook my head. It was the truth, in fact; he had not frightened me, and to this day he has not, save of course for any worry spent for his sake alone.
Somehow, I managed to request an explanation, and in response – still with a rather worried look, which I was certain was not only echoed on my own face but belonged far better there – Albert gave another quick nod. “Of – of course. Yes. I’ll explain it all, though some of it is – is rather scientific, you see, so I’m not sure if you’ll have much of a taste for it. But, ah – I’ll tell you all about it, yes, just . . . somewhere less . . . exposed, perhaps?”
The sheepish look he offered me drew me back to the present and my own corporeal form. In the excitement, I’d neglected to process that we remained outside, and ideas of the macabre and fanciful nature of which my companion spoke are better kept behind closed doors.
Some semblance of propriety returning to me, I invited him inside, intending to lead us both up to my office. As I began to step away, however, a clearing of the throat and the sound of shuffling feet drew my attention back.
“You know, um – I can’t go out in the sunlight. Right? That is how it works, you see, yes. . .”
For several heartbeats I stood still, taking in the small shadow in which my old friend stood. It was cast only by the wall behind him, and had surely been growing smaller over the process of several hours.
In that instance, several other pieces fell into place; Albert’s delayed arrival and inability to complete his journey indoors, most notably. Though an incredulous statement even to so much as write, For a moment my only thoughts were that the idea made sense.
“. . .Of course,” I replied, blinking slowly as cobwebs of insanity once more ensnared my brain, “how negligent of me. I beg of you, do . . . forgive the discourtesy. . .”
Stepping closer in his direction, I hesitated and watched as his mouth opened and shut a few times. This revelation had caused me to become more aware of a growing panic behind the lenses of his glasses as the line of sunlight – however faint such things were in London – crept closer to the edge of his shoes.
“No, no it’s all my fault . . . I’m sorry, I should have been more careful not to get caught out . . . left earlier, or, or later, or . . . I just wanted to see you, you see, I didn’t think about it . . .” Sighing, he once more moved to nibble on his thumb, an action he quickly appeared to regret, then moved his hands back to his sides. “I don’t really know what might happen if I did go out in it, but – it wouldn’t be good, I know that. A burn if I’m lucky, or . . . if unlucky, I’d be left a smoldering pile of ash!”
The energy in his voice had mounted to a crescendo by his final words, which were punctuated by a dramatic gesture of the arms while he stood on tiptoe. I could not discern if his tone was more frightened or enthused with the prospect of some scientific discovery.
If enthusiasm indeed was present, it was not shared in the slightest by myself. Not particularly enjoying the idea of either the best or worst outcome, I let out a breath and paused to think. After a moment, I joined Albert beneath his shadow and slowly raised my arm while holding onto the end of my cloak in order to create a cover.
Never before have I been so grateful for the thing, wing-like and heavy though it is. “I will shelter you. Come, and we will see to it that you are kept indoors and safe until nightfall.”
Not appearing, at first, to understand the meaning of my gesture, Albert merely blinked owlishly up at me for a second. Glasses having slid down his nose, he forced them back up, then finally managed a smile while beginning to shuffle closer and duck under the shelter of my arm.
“Oh, um – Thank you, Barok, that it is, it’s too kind of you, really. Um –” Pressed close to my side – vampire or not, I can still recall the warmth of his presence – he began to survey his new shelter. “I don’t see why this wouldn’t work, it’s a shadow just as any other and certainly not that different from the wall. Ah – I mean, you are better than a wall, Barok, more pleasant company and all of that . . . though you’re just about as tall. . . oh! Yes! Let’s get going, there’s no need to worry. I don’t see any reason why this experiment shouldn’t work.”
Not before had I considered my idea to be any sort of experiment, and to hear it referred to as such gave me pause. Whatever the state of his new. . . condition, Albert was still getting used to it, and had clearly not yet begun to understand his limitations. To think that I may be involved in said testing, that I may fail to protect the transgression of some extreme boundary . . .
I will confess to hesitation, though mere hours before I’d never have so much as thought of the possibility that something terrible may come to pass should my dear friend become exposed to the unforgiving sun.
Perhaps I paled, or gave him a particular look – either way, Albert looked up at me from his place, tucked away beneath my arm, and smiled while reaching up to give my shoulder a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, I said – we’ve got to move at some point, anyways. The shadow won’t stay there forever.”
I did not miss a hint of nervousness to his laugh, a flicker to his smile. Nevertheless, they served to steel my nerves, and following a heavy swallow and an even heavier nod, I slowly began to walk towards the door.
To his credit, Albert kept his pace well. It would have been far too easy to accidentally slip loose from the protection of my cloak, a thought which occurred to me numerous times in our brief journey towards my office and which caused me to ensure that he remained as enveloped in the fabric as possible.
If even a sliver of skin became exposed and burned, I’d have never forgiven myself. . .
Had I committed such an unforgivable error and sin, I would have been completely unworthy of the trust which bade him to visit, and which has shone so disarmingly in his eyes whenever they turn in my direction.
But my worry was undue – saving, of course, for any amount it had contributed to our success – in the sense that we reached our destination safely. In little time, we were once more enshrouded in the cover of the building, though an unforeseen barrier remained in the presence of high, arching windows through which filtered a diluted but creeping sort of sunlight that seemed determined to snatch my companion away.
Thus it was that, despite his protests and insistences that he could avoid the beams, I insisted on keeping Albert’s shield in place until we’d arrived completely to my office and I’d drawn the curtains enough to leave us in darkness. Fortunately, enough lamps remained lit that the absence of the natural light was tolerable.
Once settled, he did his best to me to explain the manner in which he had attained his present condition. Were I capable, I would transpose that science onto paper here along with the rest of my recount, but I find myself prevented twofold. This, I shall end my account after a brief elaboration.
First, Albert himself has sworn me to secrecy, not wishing for the methods behind his discovery to be revealed. I understand enough to know that, while he did not intent to attain this particular result, he believes that there is a possibility it may be useful and informative enough to be worth further study. What his true ambitions were, I remain uncertain, and he does not appear inclined to explain. Neither, despite my best efforts, does he appear concerned with whether his condition may be reversed, though he expressed confidence that he will be able to do so should his curiosity be satisfied. Though I am of course in full support, my heart continues to ache for the laboratory rat he has made of himself.
Secondly – and this explanation I fear to be far simpler, if crude – I understood in truth very little of what the dear professor told me. He spoke quickly and, not being a skilled man of science myself, I will confess that a significant amount went over my head.