An Infernal Love

Chapter 5/?

Mortensen Castle, November13th 1798, Diary of Dr David Wenham

10 a.m.

Sir Mortensen has excused himself for the day again after breaking his fast with me and so I am sitting in his lavish library again, writing everything that happened and everything he told me down to think it over. I hope that by keeping record of the strange happenings I have witnessed, I will be able to sort my thoughts out. They are all I have to keep me sane and I will need every ounce of logical thinking I possess if I am to get out of this alive. I have to think of a way to get out of here. And yet I have no inkling of how to go about this. Sir Mortensen left me about an hour ago and I have not been idle since then. I saw him leave from the window of my room and since I am quite sure that there are no more than two or three servants in this household I knew that it would be safe to dare a closer look at the library and the rest of the castle.

I thoroughly examined the library, knocking against the walls till I found a spot on the western wall where my knocking resounded hollowly. I am convinced that there is a secret pathway to the library but I could not find any mechanism that would open it. I have to investigate this further on a suitable occasion.

Just like yesterday all rooms safe for my own and the library appear to be locked but there is another door, leading to the eastern wing of the castle, which is not locked but almost impossible to open. I have decided to go there as soon as I can and without Sir Mortensen knowing it, since I believe that it might be a way to get to the chamber of Mr McKellen. I explained my theories concerning his illness to Sir Mortensen this morning over breakfast and in contrast to yesterday he listened most attentively. The fact that I could explain neither Ian’s strange blood-loss nor his being anaemic and his hunger for blood seemed to be of the utmost interest to him. I could not help but shudder as I remembered the books, the blasphemic ones he had not even hidden, most of which dealt with blood in some way.

Sir Mortensen assured me yester eve that he keeps those books for studying only but I cannot help but wonder. What if he – and maybe Ian too – experimented with some sort of sorcery or magic? Ian said that Sir Mortensen feared him – maybe a spell or something Sir Mortensen did turned against them and caused this illness? Would that be reason enough for Sir Mortensen to fear Mr McKellen?

But even if it would not be enough to explain the strange connection between them – and they are connected in some way, of that I am sure. Why does blood mean so much to them? Why? My blood runs cold as I read my entries again. The horrid images of what Sir Mortensen and Ian McKellen may have done unfix my hair and a shadow of fear lingers on my mind all day long. What have I gotten into?

But enough of that for now – Mortensen will be gone for quite some time still and I want to – nay, need to – know what is in the eastern wing. What will I find except for Ian? I fear that there may be even more horrors in store for me in this castle. There is evil here that does not sleep. Dare I face it? I hope so, for there is no other way.

Same day, 4 p.m.

I am back from my excursion into the astern wing and once again found my lunch laid out in my room. There must be someone else in the castle, mayhap the servant whom I have seen on a few occasions, though mostly in the mornings. But alas, I was about to write down what happened after I decided to venture into the eastern wing and must try not to stray from the subject. Dream-like as the things I saw may seem, there is a sweet madness whispering into my ear that all I seem to remember of this morn might be real. And there is proof. But more of that later. On some strange level I long for them to be real but why I do not know.

I proceeded carefully after I had opened the door, creeping slowly and stealthily through the long winding corridors, trying to go as quietly as possible. I feared that the very stones I walked upon might prate of my whereabouts. I tried to open the doors I passes, captured in a haze of incredulity. I could not believe what I was doing. I was truly going against Sir Mortensen’s orders but he has broken all rules of hospitality by keeping me prisoner against my will and so I saw no need to honour them either. I calmed down when I entered a section of the castle I knew and followed the way we had taken when he had led me to Mr McKellen.

I found Mr McKellen’s door unlocked and after knocking in a rather timid fashion quickly stepped inside though I received no response upon my entreat for entry. Mr McKellen was wide awake though stricken by a deathly pallor and seemed not in the least surprised to seem me.

“I had expected you sooner.” he said, his chains clinking cruelly as he sat up with a few languid movements. “You… expected me?” I repeated, totally shocked by his reaction to seeing me. “But how could you have known that I would come some day?”
“I knew,” and upon saying this he grinned broadly, “at once that you would come again. I knew when you left the last time. The idea to come back without Viggo was already growing in your mind. Plus, I sensed your presence some minutes ago. I knew you would find your way here.” “How could you have sensed my presence? No human can possibly do such a thing!” I replied, desperate to deny any possibility of such a thing.
“Ah, but haven’t you noticed that there are a lot of things happening in this castle, which cannot have been done by human forces?” “What do you mean?” I asked again, involuntarily stepping back as his eyes drilled into me, reminding me of my nightmares. Only that his sparkling blue eyes had a reddish tinge now. Almost like blood.
“I know your fears.” He whispered, still smiling as he crawled closer on the bed. “I know all the questions you ask yourself, know what you dream of. I know how much you fear the wolves and how curious you are about the things you have witnessed since coming here.” I shuddered as he grinned openly at me, his canine teeth, which were rather long and pointy laying palely against his ruby red lips, which bore a stark contrast to his ghastly pale complexion.
“How?” the word left my lips in a quivering sigh, lingering in the chill air. “How could I not?” he asked and upon seeing the uncomprehending look on my face added, “You think rather loudly… and once I knew what your mind felt like, I could easily tap into your dreams.” “What my mind felt like?” I croaked, cold sweat running down my back as I shivered against the wooden door, while my hand searched for its handle.
“Don’t go.” Ian said softly. “The door is locked. I want it to be locked and now it is. And you’re way too curious to run from me now. I can answer all your questions… and I will. You just have to ask the right ones.” I could not help it but a dreadful apprehension swept over me as his strange words finally registered with me. “But what kind of question should I ask?” Slowly I let go of the door-handle and stepped closer to the bed as if in a trance as he motioned for me to join him. “Have a seat, doctor.” He laughed, crawling back on the mattress to make room for me to sit. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.” Somehow his words did nothing to reassure me, if anything they heightened my anxiety. “I don’t want you to bite me.” I added as an afterthought. “Very well,” Ian said slowly and with a little disappointment. “Then I won’t. Come on,” he patted the mattress beside him. “Have a seat first. Then we can talk.”
Reluctantly I sat down, staying as far away from him as possible. I did not trust him. “What do you want to know?” he asked and it took me no longer than a second to answer. “Everything. What are you? What happened to make you ill?” “A good question.” Ian grinned – oh God, I think he never stopped grinning even for a second, how I hate his grin! “Think about it , Dave –may I call you that? I will anyway since I know you well enough – think about it. What do you know about me? Don’t say “nothing” now, you’ve examined me thoroughly and should know at least a few things about me.”
“Well,” I was reduced to stuttering once more. The shame of it! “You seem anaemic… and you suffer from a strange loss of blood though I could not find any wound upon you. I would say that you are about 50 years old and in very good shape for your age though you seem a bit too thin than would be good for you.” “Very good, Dave. And what does that tell you about me?” “I don’t know…”
“You noticed my teeth.” He stated suddenly, a strange gleam in his eyes. “Yes…” I hated the quivering in my voice. I absolutely hated it. “And what do you think they might be for, Dave?” He frightened me, he really frightened me back then, but somehow I managed to stay and keep on talking. “I don’t know…”
“But of course you do.” Ian kept on grinning, though it turned malicious now. “You have a lot of imagination, Dave, and I know that you use it. A lot. And especially of late. Come on, be a good boy and tell me what that brilliant mind of yours has come up with!” “Mayhap.. mayhap.. you need blood somehow…to… to outweigh your own loss…” I hated to think that I might be right but his evil smile left no doubt of that.
“I am beginning to see what he sees in you.” Ian whispered, suddenly only a few inches from me, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “You are really good… a gem among humans… and you’re gifted… I can sense that… a true jewel…”
“I Have no idea what you are talking about.” I said, straining myself to keep up the façade of the fearless doctor but he only pressed some sort of parcel into my hands.
“Run!” he whispered urgently. “Take this, you will need it later on. Take it and run! Mortensen is coming back! He mustn’t know that I gave you this! Go on!” Run!”

There was such a panic in his words and composure that I could not but listen to him. I clutched the parcel to my chest and ran from the room, running towards the only place in the castle where I feel at least relatively safe. My room. I have hidden the parcel, which is quite heavy be the way, under my mattress and will look into it as soon as Sir Mortensen is away again. But here he comes. I can feel it. Can feel him approach. What does that mean?

Tbc…