Author:Philip S.

Pairing:

Rating:PG-13

Summary:Angel searches for a way to make vampires human again. In 1919 it leads him to a castle in Germany where perverted science might hold the answers he seeks. Completed June 3, 2002

Germany
January 27, 1919


The castle looms before me, a towering presence in the dark of night beneath a sky filled with storm clouds. It is small wonder that the villagers are afraid of this place, the scenery alone is enough to inspire many a fairy tale. There is more, though, much more. The villagers would not talk about it, but they have reason to fear this place. They know what happened here.

So do I. It is why I am here today.

It’s been twelve years since the day we changed the world. Twelve years since we shackled the darkness of vampirekind with the light of a thousand and more returned souls. It has been hard since then, the weight of untold centuries of blood and slaughter is weighing heavily on all our shoulders. I certainly know all about this.

I am Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. For nearly 150 years I was one of the most feared and loathed vampires in all the world. I lost count of the number of people I killed but it is too huge to even contemplate. I did not simply kill them, of course. I tortured them, both physically and otherwise. I relished in their pain. I sucked the blood from men, women, and children and I remember how good it felt, how much I liked it.

The memories have not gone away, but some things have changed. It’s been 21 years since William and I were given our souls by vengeful Gypsies and for a long time we teetered on the edge, poised to put an end to our pain by snuffing our own existence. We never did, though. We kept each other alive throughout these dark years and instead of wallowing in our own misery we decided to do something. The curse that befell us was a blessing in disguise. Never again will the monsters called Spike and Angelus plague the world and the painful memories are a small price for that.

Now all vampires have souls. Not all of them are the better for it, I am sad to say. A soul does not automatically make one good. Some of my kind still kill, still drink the blood of men, women, and children. They need to be dealt with. That is not why I am here today, though. No. If what I heard about this place is true it might well mean our salvation.

Twelve years ago all vampires regained their souls, the essence of their humanity. Here today I might find the means to restore everything else that was stolen from them. From us.

Tonight I might learn how to live again.

The castle is a ruin, having been abandoned to the elements many years ago. A soft rain starts to fall as I walk up the overgrown path. The front gates are shattered, bent out of shape by something much stronger than human. There are deep markings in the crude metal and they have the shape of human hands, only bigger.

Inside there is some fire damage, but it looks more like some kind of tornado went through here. Most of the furniture is broken and scattered, accumulated dust coating everything like a funeral shroud. When I close my eyes, though, I can almost hear the screams. If everything I heard about this place is true then it must have been a nightmare.

I go on, crossing the living areas of the castle and approaching the large central tower. That is where the Baron conducted his experiments, or so I was told. This is the place I might find my answers.

The doors to the library are shattered as well and I walk inside, craning my head to take it all in. This is the central tower and it’s hollowed out completely, the top of it open to the elements. It seems there was some kind of sliding door to close it, but that, too, is broken.

A metal contraption hangs about twenty feet above the ground, looking like an operating table for a very, very big human body. There are machines all around, their exact purpose being anyone’s guess, but I know what it is they accomplished.

This is the place. This is where he brought his creature to life in a flash of lightning.

When I first heard this tale I scoffed at it. A German scientist who built a mockery of a man, a monster made from the body parts of the dead. I almost disregarded it as mere fiction, but curiosity compelled me to look further into it. What I learned astounded me. Somehow this German Baron had managed to do the impossible. He had brought a dead body to life.

All this was years ago, of course. No one is quite sure what happened. Some people saw what they described as a monster, a patchwork of mismatched human parts. Others saw the Baron and his wife inside a burning building, heard a scream and then silence. There is talk of a skipper up north who found a man near death, a man who claimed to be this Baron who could bring the dead back to life.

Looking at this decaying laboratory all around me I am ready to believe. This is the place where lightning struck down from the sky and brought life where there was nothing but death. How did he do it? Was it a onetime fluke or can it be done again? A thousand times over?

Can it bring life to a dead body that is animated only by a demon?

Suddenly I sense movement somewhere at the far end of the laboratory. There is no sound to be heard above the growling of the storm clouds above the castle, but the predator inside me can feel it. Something moving, something alive. Yet it does not feel human. Not vampire, either. Not anything I have felt before.

I slowly make my way over towards the source of the movement even as theories flicker through my thoughts. Is the Baron still alive? Can he show me how to use his inventions to make my people live again? Or is it just some kind of animal or stray wanderer looking for shelter?

There is a groan, an animal cry of frustration. The shadow I see on the wall is not that of an animal, though. With a sinking feeling I realize just what it is I have found here.

The creature looks almost human here in the shadows, but only until one gets a closer look at it. Healing scars are covering its face and the rest of his body as well, I guess, though I can see little of it beneath the rags it is wearing. It is big, well over two meters, and walks with a strength that could shatter these ancient walls.

Above us lightning flashes and I see pain on its face.

“I know you are there,” the creature growls, turning its head to look at me. “You might as well show yourself.”

I separate myself from the shadows. Wind is blowing in through the open roof, strands of long hair flying into my face. The creature is facing me, the rags billowing like raven’s wings, and I wonder what someone watching us now would think of the two of us. We both look human, more or less, yet neither of us really is.

“Who are you?” the creature asks. It’s voice is a deep growl, but there is intelligence inside it, a sophistication I had not expected.

“My name is Angelus.” I still use that name, even though it is tainted with so much blood. I am not Liam O’Conner anymore, that foolish young boy died in a dirty alley in Galway.

“You do not look like someone who just happened to stumble upon this place,” the creature goes on, “so I imagine you know what happened here. Who I am.”

I just nod, never taking my eyes of it.

“Why are you here?”

“I came here because I heard of the Baron. I wanted to learn how he managed ... how he ...”

“Brought me to life?”

“Yes.”

The creature sighs and sits down on a rusting piece of machinery, looking incredibly tired.

“He made me,” it says sadly. “Sewed me together from parts of dead bodies. The brain of a brilliant professor. The face of a convicted murderer who died on the gallows. I awoke in a flash of lightning and if you ask me who or what I am I can not tell you.”

It reaches into the folds of its rags and produces a flute.

“I can play this, you know? Which part of me knows how to do this I wonder. My hands? My lips? My brain?”

It moves the wooden instrument to its mouth and plays a short melody, a sad lament that brings a chill to my cold skin. Unsure of how to take its words I move closer to it. “I came here because I need to know how he did it. Do you know? Can you teach me?”

The creature emits what sounds like a chuckle. “I watched him. He tried to do it again with his wife, bring her back to life after she died. After I killed her. It worked, but she killed herself a short time afterwards. Walked into the fire. She could not stand to be ... like this.”

Its eyes turn towards me and I can not help but shiver. “Why do you want to know? Did you lose someone you want back?”

I walk up to it and place my hand on its arm, letting it feel the coldness of my skin. There is a puzzled frown on its face as big fingers slide along my wrist, searching for a pulse.

“You are dead.”

“I am a vampire,” I explain. “I am living in dead flesh, bound to a demon that wants nothing but pain and destruction. There are thousands like me. I want to make us live again. Can you tell me how?”

The creature looks at me for a long moment, then throws back its head to laugh. It laughs so loud that even the thunder above is drowned out and the walls of the decaying tower are shaking.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, not very amused.

“You are, vampire. You think you can live again through a flash of lightning? Make yourself warm, get your heart to beat?”

Finally the laughter ceases and the creature looks down.

“Go away, dead man. There is nothing here for you. Nothing but ashes and regrets.”

“I am not going until you tell me the Baron’s secrets. I have searched for too long to give up when I’m this close to ...”

“You are close to nothing,” the creature thunders, leaping to its feet. “You think the Baron found the secrets of life? Do you really think it is life you see when you look at me?”

We stand face to face, the creature hunkered over to bring its eyes level with mine. They are a brown so dark they might as well be black. The eyes of a murderer, it said. I try to see its real self somewhere in there, figure out what it really is. The Baron brought this thing to life, somehow managed to breathe the Promethean spark back into it.

Or did he?

I look into the creature’s eyes, stare into those black orbs taken from a murderer after his death on the gallows, and all I see is death.

“Do you see, dead man?” the creature asks. “I am a patchwork of leftovers, remains. He thought he could cheat death but instead he got only the scraps that death left behind in its wake. This world holds nothing but emptiness for me and the only other who was like I was walked into the fire out of her own free will rather than continue existing like this.”

My hopes fall into ashes as I see the truth of its words. There is nothing there in that animated patchwork of a man. Just an echo of a dozen or more lives that are already gone, nothing but a dying ember where the fire has long gone out.

A flash of lightning was supposed to bring life, but all it brought was death that walks like a man.

“I see,” I finally say. I came here seeking life, but all I found was yet more death and I have quite enough of that in my own existence.

I turn to leave, prepared to abandon this poor mockery of a man here in the ruins of its birthplace, but its voice calls me back one last time.

“Can you do something for me?” the creature asks, looking at me. It takes me but a moment to realize what it is asking me to do. I nod.

Outside there is a flash of lightning as the echo of life finally ceases.


THE END