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Authors: Richard Matheson
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her eyes, a look of pain across her sallow features.
"I don't want to die," she said. "Please don't let me die, Petre."
"You won't," he said. "I promise you; the monster shall be destroyed."
Alexis shuddered feebly. "But if there is no way, Petre," she murmured.
"There is always a way," he answered.
Outside the darkness, cold and heavy, pressed around the house. Dr. Gheria took his place beside the bed and began to wait. Within the hour, Alexis slipped into a heavy slumber. Gently, Dr. Gheria released her hand and poured himself a cup of steaming coffee. As he sipped it hotly, bitter, he looked around the room. Door locked, windows bolted, every opening sealed with garlic, the cross at Alexis' throat. He nodded slowly to himself. It will work, he thought. The monster would be thwarted.
He sat there, waiting, listening to his breath.
Dr. Gheria was at the door before the second knock.
"Michael!" He embraced the younger man. "Dear Michael, I was sure you'd come!"
Anxiously, he ushered Dr. Vares towards his study. Outside darkness was just falling.
"Where on earth are all the people of the village?" asked Vares. "I swear, I didn't see a soul as I rode in."
"Huddling, terror-stricken, in their houses," Gheria said, "and all my servants with them save for one."
"Who is that?"
"My butler, Karel," Gheria answered. "He didn't answer the door because he's sleeping.
Poor fellow, he is very old and has been doing the work of five." He gripped Vares' arm. "Dear Michael," he said, "you have no idea how glad I am to see you."
Vares looked at him worriedly. "I came as soon as I received your message," he said.
"And I appreciate it," Gheria said. "I know how long and hard a ride it is from Cluj."
"What's wrong?" asked Vares. "Your letter only said-"
Quickly, Gheria told him what had happened in the past week.
"I tell you, Michael, I stumble at the brink of madness," he said. "Nothing works! Garlic, wolfsbane, crosses, mirrors, running water-useless! No, don't say it! This isn't superstition nor imagination! This is happening! A vampire is destroying her! Each day she sinks yet deeper into that-deadly torpor from which-"
Gheria clinched his hands. "And yet I cannot understand it."
"Come, sit, sit." Doctor Vares pressed the older man into a chair, grimacing at the pallor of him. Nervously, his fingers sought for Gheria's pulse beat.
"Never mind me," protested Gheria. "It's Alexis we must help." He pressed a sudden, trembling hand across his eyes. "Yet how?" he said.
He made no resistance as the younger man undid his collar and examined his neck.
"You, too," said Vares, sickened.
"What does that matter?" Gheria clutched at the younger man's hand. "My friend, my dearest friend," he said, "tell me that it is not I! Do I do this hideous thing to her?"
Vares looked confounded. "You?" he said. "But-"
"I know, I know," said Gheria. "I, myself, have been attacked. Yet nothing follows, Michael! What breed of horror is this which cannot be impeded? From what unholy place does it emerge? I've had the countryside examined foot by foot, every graveyard ransacked, every crypt inspected! There is no house within the village that has not yet been subjected to my search. I tell you, Michael, there is nothing! Yet, there is something-something which assaults us nightly, draining us of life. The village is engulfed by terror-and I as well! I never see this creature, never hear it! Yet, every morning, I find my beloved wife-"
Vares' face was drawn and pallid now. He stared intently at the older man.
"What am I to do, my friend?" pleaded Gheria. "How am I to save her?"
Vares had no answer.
How long has she-been like this?" asked Vares. He could not remove his stricken gaze from the whiteness of Alexis' face.
"For many days," said Gheria. "The retrogression has been constant."
Dr. Vares put down Alexis' flaccid hand. "Why did you not tell me sooner?" he asked.
"I thought the matter could be handled," Gheria answered, faintly. "I
"I don't want to die," she said. "Please don't let me die, Petre."
"You won't," he said. "I promise you; the monster shall be destroyed."
Alexis shuddered feebly. "But if there is no way, Petre," she murmured.
"There is always a way," he answered.
Outside the darkness, cold and heavy, pressed around the house. Dr. Gheria took his place beside the bed and began to wait. Within the hour, Alexis slipped into a heavy slumber. Gently, Dr. Gheria released her hand and poured himself a cup of steaming coffee. As he sipped it hotly, bitter, he looked around the room. Door locked, windows bolted, every opening sealed with garlic, the cross at Alexis' throat. He nodded slowly to himself. It will work, he thought. The monster would be thwarted.
He sat there, waiting, listening to his breath.
Dr. Gheria was at the door before the second knock.
"Michael!" He embraced the younger man. "Dear Michael, I was sure you'd come!"
Anxiously, he ushered Dr. Vares towards his study. Outside darkness was just falling.
"Where on earth are all the people of the village?" asked Vares. "I swear, I didn't see a soul as I rode in."
"Huddling, terror-stricken, in their houses," Gheria said, "and all my servants with them save for one."
"Who is that?"
"My butler, Karel," Gheria answered. "He didn't answer the door because he's sleeping.
Poor fellow, he is very old and has been doing the work of five." He gripped Vares' arm. "Dear Michael," he said, "you have no idea how glad I am to see you."
Vares looked at him worriedly. "I came as soon as I received your message," he said.
"And I appreciate it," Gheria said. "I know how long and hard a ride it is from Cluj."
"What's wrong?" asked Vares. "Your letter only said-"
Quickly, Gheria told him what had happened in the past week.
"I tell you, Michael, I stumble at the brink of madness," he said. "Nothing works! Garlic, wolfsbane, crosses, mirrors, running water-useless! No, don't say it! This isn't superstition nor imagination! This is happening! A vampire is destroying her! Each day she sinks yet deeper into that-deadly torpor from which-"
Gheria clinched his hands. "And yet I cannot understand it."
"Come, sit, sit." Doctor Vares pressed the older man into a chair, grimacing at the pallor of him. Nervously, his fingers sought for Gheria's pulse beat.
"Never mind me," protested Gheria. "It's Alexis we must help." He pressed a sudden, trembling hand across his eyes. "Yet how?" he said.
He made no resistance as the younger man undid his collar and examined his neck.
"You, too," said Vares, sickened.
"What does that matter?" Gheria clutched at the younger man's hand. "My friend, my dearest friend," he said, "tell me that it is not I! Do I do this hideous thing to her?"
Vares looked confounded. "You?" he said. "But-"
"I know, I know," said Gheria. "I, myself, have been attacked. Yet nothing follows, Michael! What breed of horror is this which cannot be impeded? From what unholy place does it emerge? I've had the countryside examined foot by foot, every graveyard ransacked, every crypt inspected! There is no house within the village that has not yet been subjected to my search. I tell you, Michael, there is nothing! Yet, there is something-something which assaults us nightly, draining us of life. The village is engulfed by terror-and I as well! I never see this creature, never hear it! Yet, every morning, I find my beloved wife-"
Vares' face was drawn and pallid now. He stared intently at the older man.
"What am I to do, my friend?" pleaded Gheria. "How am I to save her?"
Vares had no answer.
How long has she-been like this?" asked Vares. He could not remove his stricken gaze from the whiteness of Alexis' face.
"For many days," said Gheria. "The retrogression has been constant."
Dr. Vares put down Alexis' flaccid hand. "Why did you not tell me sooner?" he asked.
"I thought the matter could be handled," Gheria answered, faintly. "I
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