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In My Blood

Chapter 13: The Mortician

Summary:

Adrian suggests they pay a visit to a “family friend”. Then everything changes.

Notes:

[squints at the sun] It ain’t much, but it’s honest work.

See you next time! <3

Chapter Text

You’re not really used to being out so late at night. Not in the city, at least. Usually if you’re out at this hour with Trevor, it’s because you’re hunting something down, or returning home from a social event where you stayed longer than you should have. This time around, however, you’re headed somewhere. Not to a party or a ball, and not out for a hunt. No, this time you’re headed to a morgue.

At the Harrington ball, you were struck with an idea. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to lure the heads of Carmilla’s operations to one place, and put an end to everything there? When you enthusiastically said it to Trevor, he just blinked and admitted that it might actually work.

You met with Adrian and Sypha again at The Paper Trail, this time actively participating in the conversation and even taking the lead several times. Trevor watched you proudly as you explained to the other two how surely a group of vain vampires wouldn’t be able to resist going to a ball. Adrian didn’t seem too sure about it, but he admitted that it was a good idea nonetheless, and that his father’s castle could be used to host the ball.

It would, after all, be the perfect place to trap and kill the vampires.

However, the plan on its own isn’t waterproof. You know that too. Luckily Adrian seems to know a solution to patching up the holes, and suggested you all pay a visit to a “family friend” of his.

“This is such a bad idea,” Trevor grumbles under his breath as he helps you off the back of the horse. It’s hard to see exactly where to step, the dim street lamps not providing much in terms of light. You’re grateful for your husband’s strong arms as he helps you find your footing.

Adrian’s condescending voice emerges from the dark alleyway next to the building, followed shortly after by his form. “Pray tell, have you a better idea to take care of the stragglers, Lord Belmont?”

Trevor glares at Adrian. Oh, if looks could kill... You busy yourself with tying the reins of the horse to the lamppost while Trevor tries to think of a witty comeback. He thinks of none.

“I thought as much,” Adrian says airily.

“Save the energy for killing the vampires, not each other,” Sypha’s voice rings out as she approaches from the other side of the street, taking off the hood of her blue cloak. She flashes you a smile when she sees you, and you can’t help but smile back. You’re still a little jealous sometimes, of course, but... Only a little. Not so much that it blinds you to what a delightful person Sypha is. She nods towards the front door of the morgue and — with enthusiasm rather unbefitting of the location — asks, “Well? Shall we head in?”

 

*

 

You wince a little at the squelching noise. Trevor’s arm around your shoulder pulls you just a little closer to him.

“We’re sorry to disturb you while you’re at... work,” Adrian says, eyeing the disfigured cadaver on the table. A close-casket funeral, you think, if there will be any funeral at all. At least the head is covered with a white sheet, though you can still see the outlines of their face. The acrid smell of blood and guts is probably the worst part. Even if Adrian were bothered by it, he certainly doesn’t show it. “But we’d like to place an order. A rather large one too.”

The whole scene honestly looks more like a setup for some ritual or witchcraft, with candles on almost every surface illuminating the room. Whenever the flames flicker they all seem to do so simultaneously. To say that it puts you on edge would be an understatement. You lean a little closer into Trevor’s half-embrace.

Isaac, the mortician and Adrian’s “family friend”, cleans his bloodied hands on his apron. The only parts that aren’t stained a deep red or a sickly pink colour are the straps tied around his neck and waist. “What is it exactly that you plan to do with the Night Creatures I make?”

Trevor speaks up. ”Stop an army of vampires.”

After letting out a short laugh, Isaac says, “There aren’t enough bodies in London for an order of that magnitude.”

You see Trevor grimace from the corner of your eye, looking like he really regrets coming here. Your hand finds his on your shoulder and laces your fingers together. He gives you a tired smile.

“We just need enough to hunt down any stragglers that might escape from our trap,” Sypha explains, crossing her arms. “I can’t imagine we’ll need more than... fifty or so?”

“That’s fifty bodies that will be defiled,” Trevor mutters under his breath.

“If you’re here to insult my craft or attempt to discuss ethics, I’ll kindly point you to the door, Lord Belmont,” Isaac says coolly as he picks up some sort of surgical tool that you don’t know the name of. He returns to the cadaver and continues... digging around in the body’s open abdominal cavity, for a lack of better words. It makes you feel a little queasy. Even with the amount of blood and gore you’ve already faced, this feels different. Maybe it’s the small room.

“He did not mean any insult,” Adrian says, quickly attempting to smooth things over. “It will be a small price to pay for the safety and survival of many. Will you be able to do it, Isaac?”

Isaac chuckles lowly. Another sickening squelching sound. Your eyes are drawn to the face hidden beneath the white sheet. You almost don’t hear Isaac’s voice over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. “Of course I will be able to, if given enough time. It’s unfortunate that you come to me now, though. I would be able to work faster if my colleague were here, but unfortunately he ran off to Paris.”

“I’m going outside for some fresh air,” you quickly announce. The others give you quick nods in acknowledgement, but Adrian, Sypha, and Isaac are all too quick in returning to their conversation. Only Trevor gives you a concerned look.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks, holding your hand. “You look a little pale.”

“No, it’s alright. I won’t go far, I just need... I just need some air,” you say with a weak smile. “You should stay here. Pay attention to what’s being said. It’s important you stay up to speed with the others.”

Trevor nods, then hesitantly lets go of your hand.

 

*

 

Your breathing feels laboured as you walk up the steps out of the basement, and towards the front door. When you finally push open the heavy door, the rush of cool air makes you feel like a weight has lifted off your chest. You take a deep breath.

You wouldn’t exactly call the London air “fresh”, but it’s better than the overwhelming stench you had to face down there.

For a moment you just stand there, slowly breathing in and out with your eyes shut.

You look up again. The horse watches you curiously, still tied to the lamppost and waiting for you and Trevor to return. You smile at him, walking over to gently stroke his mane and give him a pat on the side. “That’s a good boy. We won’t be long, I promise. I’ll get you an apple when we’re back home.”

You’re taken by surprise when he whinnies nervously, taking a few steps back until the reins are pulled taut and he can’t move further anymore. He struggles, thrashing his head about.

“Woah! It’s alright, hey, it’s alright,” you tell him with a soft and soothing voice, taking careful steps forward. “Did you get spooked, buddy? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Oh, you jinxed it, didn’t you?

 

*

 

Trevor regrets letting you go up alone.

It’s abundantly clear that whatever is left to discuss with Isaac is of little to no interest to him. Adrian and Sypha are happily going over the details, but he really couldn’t care less. In fact, the less he knows about the way the Night Creatures are made, the better.

He runs a hand through his hair, looking towards the stairs leading up with a frown. When he hears a distressed whinnying noise, his hand moves to the sword on his hip without even thinking. “I’m going to go up to check on her,” Trevor announces. The others nod with vague interest, but don’t say anything when he leaves.

The steps creak under his weight as he heads up. He feels a rush of cold air, and the further up he heads the louder the distressed sounds from the horse get. A feeling of dread overcomes him when he sees the half-open front door.

Trevor steps out onto an empty street, save for himself and the horse.