Passchendale (Part 2)

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Just after I learnt that America had entered the war, my crusade was to change. This happened when I had selected a young fräulein, to be my next prey. I struck and took her blood and essence, then to my great horror, I learnt from her, what was being done, to their own — her brother bad been taken, to a camp, because of what he was. She hated them, almost as much as it was possible to do. It was too late to leave her alive, so I did not rip out her heart, instead I passed life-force back to her, the same life-force, that I’d taken, and then buried her, next to me. Three sun sets later, I dragged us both from the grave. She was barely more than a corpse, so I gave her some of my blood and it revived her. That night we dined upon two Gestapo officers, who were the same two, who had taken her brother away. Things were strained between us that night. She knew I’d killed her and had a vague conception what she had become as well as what my intentions where towards her. Things became easier, with time and her learning of my origins and history — maybe having a companion changed me as well. From the time that she joined me, between life and death, my prey changed. We targeted the Gestapo, SS and Party officials, to be our dinners. We also tried sabotage, with our strength, we could easily rip up railway tracks. First Carla, then I started to find that being in the earth was hard, to take. As a new refuge, we tried the cellar of a house, that had been ruined, in the air raids. It served us well and hence we were no longer condemned to be always caked in soil, so our hunting methods changed.

After the allied landings, we made our way towards the front, attacking units, along the way — killing some and leaving the rest paralysed, ready to be captured or clog up the hospitals. In France we saw another couple, who seemed to be like us. They were with a group of French Resistance Fighters — but they were obviously English, at least to both of us. To keep Carla safe, we avoided them. As the war was coming to an end, we experimented with our feeding, until eventually, we were able to leave those we dined on alive. We had to dine more regularly, but our meals were left alive. With the war at an end, we discovered that Carla’s brother was dead; the war’s end also meant that we had to decide upon our futures. Carla chose to come with me, back to England, but getting back there was a problem, but we solved it, two coffins were added, to a shipment for England.

We made our way, to Kymberlyn. Carla had learnt English from me and also a particularly vile Oxbridge officer, who was the son of some Merchant usurer. Upon returning to Bellhamshire, I hoped that the Kymberlyn Legends were true. At the village of Kymberlyn, I was attacked by a wolf, despite the fact that none are native to England, long ago they were hunted to extinction. I held him away, from me, and did not kill it. Eventually, it changed back, to being human, when I gave it a taste of life-force.

The eldest of the Kymberlyn family, Edgar, introduced the two of us to Professor Brown of Bellham University. For a time, We were accommodated, at the University, so he could study us — not that he really needed to do that. I hoped that, by being there, I might find help for Carla. While we were there, guilt and grief tore Carla apart. She stopped eating and was steadily becoming more skeletal. Professor Brown and I ended her suffering. He told me how and I did the deed — a stake through her heart. He finished it — at least I assume he did, for at that time I believed that that was all it took, to kill us. She was to be the first, of the many, of my kind, that I have staked. After several years, Professor Brown arranged, for me to have, a safe haven, away from his watching eyes. I have found peace time a trial, no flame-throwers to dodge, and very few risks to take — I need danger, to make me believe, that I am still alive.

Beware of the tall, dark haired, well-dressed gentleman, for he just may be after your blood and spirit.

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