Gothic Horror - The Hunt for Mary Scroggins Continues - Part 3

It’s a full moon and two Nosferatu roam the forest, hungry for blood.

This ancient ritual is performed by the Nosferatu before the hunt and slaughter of innocents. Well Sister Monica of the Order of Perpetual Pain might be an innocent, although I doubt Sir Marmaduke Langdale is.
Part 1 and 2 of this story are the previous 2 posts.

The sun is sinking beyond the mountains to the west, the Nosferatu are preparing for the blood slaughter.

The sun has set and the full moon has arisen, the Nosferatu are at the height of their powers, tonight there will be blood staining the soil of this place, sacred to the Undead, they will be renewed and will rejuvenate yet again.

They creep silently towards the log cabin, Sir Marmaduke has refused to go into the squalid hovel, the stench of the inmates is still strong, it may never disappear. Sister Monica is preparing a meal, a lamb from the size of the animal on the spit, but we may never know the truth unless a miracle happens and they survive the onslaught of the Nosferatu.

There is a small fire burning, the flames providing feeble comfort for the disconsolate party, their thoughts are with the main group who are searching for Mary Scroggins and they are wondering how goes it with them. Where are they tonight, did they reach Much Piddling in the Marsh, is Mary Scroggins safe?

Moving slowly and stealthily the Nosferatu approach the cabin.

The clouds part and the moon shines down on Bellatrix the strange woman whose only companion is an old threadbare Teddy, Sir M is wondering how she lost her mind and why she carries the bear, the Nosferatu is only thinking of his next blood meal, and who will it be. He can hear the chain rattle as Bellatrix stirs, but she only feels her body quiver as the blood runs hot in her veins, is this excitement, passion or fear, she doesn’t know, but something is happening here.

Monmouth is sure there’s something out there, he knows he can run faster than Sister Monica and is not afraid but how will he be able to live with himself if he leaves his old commander behind, he knows he can’t run faster than Sister Monica if he is carrying Sir M on his back. He also knows Sir M will not let him run.

Life is a conundrum and it looks as though he will have to stay and be brave because he’s too much of a coward to run.

He hears a slight sound and turns that way, eyes peering into the dark forest, illuminated feebly by the moonlight, but there is nothing to be seen, could this just be his imagination, he doesn’t think so.

He takes a tighter grip on his musket.

The other Nosferatu slides close to Bellatrix, she can hear his shallow breathing, she is shaking – with fear – with passion, how can we tell. He slowly and secretly leans over the quivering inmate, his mouth touches her neck, he kisses her, she moans in ecstasy – is that blood, it’s too dark to see, she slumps quietly down, moving convulsively and rhythmically and he passes on.

That does look like blood, around his mouth and a dark stain grows larger on the ground where she lays, silently - still.

The fire crackles, the meat sizzles on the spit, they are all as happy as they can be, with tension and the sweet smell of roasting meat in the air, happy but not as happy as the Nosferatu.

The Nosferatu steps from behind the cabin, Monmouth turns, their eyes lock, he feels light headed, dizzy almost and looses 1 Con as his life starts to drain away from him and into the age old killer in front of him. He feels fear chill his bones, and a warm wetness in his boots.

The other Nosferatu steps into the clearing from behind the gnarled forbidding old tree, Sister Monica looks up, their eyes lock, he is disconcerted, this woman in the bat like cape is glaring back at him – he feels an iron will – almost as strong as his own. They both shake their heads imperceptibly and lock eyes again.

Monmouth summons all his willpower, he feels he is overcoming the light-headedness but no, he drifts away once more, another -1 Con.

Sister Monica of the Order of Perpetual Pain, her of the Steely Glare faces the most deadly enemy she has ever encountered. He has never known such resistance to his powers before, and from a woman.

The silent struggle for domination continues.

Meanwhile Monmouth slips away quietly and drops to the floor, there is no physical damage to be seen, but he is still and silent and does not appear to be breathing.

The Nosferatu kneels, a second meal so soon, ahh it’s good to be Undead.

***BANG***

Sir Marmaduke is not a man to be trifled with, he was watching the combat of wills and knew Monmouth would be the loser, and though wounded and incapacitated as he is Sir M was ready. With a steady hand and the skill of long years of practice he put a bullet through the head of the Nosferatu.

This required a throw of 6 to hit followed by 1 to hit the head, no where else would have killed the foul creature. It requires a cool head in a hot situation, and he has one.

The noise distracts Sister Monica’s opponent, he feels a sharp pain in his head, just behind his eyes, what is happening – the bat like woman is hurting him, -1 Con. This just can’t be - he has lived for centuries and not known pain before.

He sees his fellow Nosferatu fall, that can’t have happened, they have hunted together for 245 years, he can’t be dead. They are the Undead.

The pain is getting worse but he fights like he’s never had to before and holds it off. With renewed effort he attacks but the pain starts again, his legs are getting weak, -2 Con. The bat woman is getting larger – stronger but he makes a super Nosferatu effort and sees the woman stagger back with a look of anguish in her eyes. A feeling of triumph courses through him, the puny human, how can she prevail.

They lock wills again, neither gets the advantage - but

finally the loss of his friend and the will of the woman are too much and he succumbs to her steely gaze and slumps to the floor.

Sister Monica from the Order of Perpetual Pain has been trained well, her Mother Superior will be proud, if Sister Monica is ever able to return to the Monastery and tell her tale.

The number of roadside graves from Little Piddling to Much Piddling increase.

We now know that Mary Scroggins has been found, but she is no longer the Mary Scroggins who left Little Piddling. She and her paramour the un-named Vampire Lord are loose in the forest.

Sister Monica and Sir Marmaduke Langdale have survived the night but at a terrible cost. How are the rest of the party faring, have they made it to Much Piddling in the Marsh, did they spend the night in the forest, are they still alive, will they ever be seen again…. OK I’ll stop that now.

You’ll just have to tune in next time to find out.

To be continued ………………………

If you are still here - thanks for reading and I greatly appreciate any thoughts and comments you make.

For this one story I tried to change my style to give a more dramatic and less humorous narrative, I am interested in your thoughts.
a) did you notice and
b) was it effective or not. You don't need to hurt my feelings and say it was crap, but be truthful. I've read it and don't know!

Thanks to Frank I've tried to up my game by taking dramatic photographs, I don't think I succeeded but he gave me the inspiration to try.

Just got back home after my previous post, so will be a little while catching up on the excellent blogs I usually read.
Cheers.