Lycanthropos (19 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Sackett

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Lycanthropos
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Kaldy closed his eyes and struggled to remember. After a few moments he shook his head. "No, Claudia, I...wait...
wait..." His brow furrowed. "Yes...yes...a plant...a plant
which..."

"What is the memory, Janos?" she asked, suddenly excited
and intense. "Who is the old man?"

He shook his head once more. "I don't remember. But the
plant..." He paused, thinking, trying to dredge the memory
up from deep in his mind, "There is a plant that..."

"That can cure us?" she asked, and then, with greater
hope in her voice, "That can kill us?"

"That can control us," he answered.

Her face, so recently animated and alive, sank back into its customary funereal cast. "Of no use to us, then."

"Not true," Kaldy said, rising to his feet. "If they can
control us, then they can keep us from killing when the change comes." He began to walk down the hillside toward the plain. He stopped and turned toward her. "It is something at
least, is it not?"

"It is nothing!" she shouted. "I don't want to be
controlled! I want to die, Janos, I want to die!"

He shook his head. "We can't die, Claudia. All we can do
is
kill."

He did not turn to see if she was following him as he continued on down toward the billowing smoke.

 

Louisa von Weyrauch was still holding the pencil which
she was supposed to have been using to make notes during the
session, but she had stopped writing soon after Kaldy began his reminiscence. She was gripping the pencil as if it were somehow supporting her as she listened with rapt, horrified
fascination. Her husband wiped the sweat from his brow as he
leaned forward from his stool toward the pallet upon which
Kaldy was reclining. "And so you came be a companion of the
Gypsy Blasko," he said.

"Yes, eventually," Kaldy replied. "He tried to kill me,
and found that he could not. He...he kept me. For the past quarter of a century, he has kept me. For twenty-five years I had not killed, until that night when the S.S. came."

"What happened to Claudia?" Louisa asked.

"I do not know," Kaldy sighed. "She is somewhere, still
killing and still trying to die."

Weyrauch sat back and let out the breath he had been holding in since the session had begun in the small room near the cell rows. "Did you make her into
a... did you cause her to..."

"In all likelihood," Kaldy said. "She claimed to remember that I attacked her. I do not know. In reality, she did not know either. It's likely. Possible, at least."

"How did you meet her?" Weyrauch asked. "Do you remember
how you met her, when you met her?"

"I do not know."

"Do you remember who she was?"

Kaldy allowed himself a small, humorless laugh. "I do
not remember who
I
am, Doctor."

Weyrauch nodded. Then he coughed and began, "Did you...that is to say, do werewolves...what I mean is, you being a male and she a female..."

"Did we mate?" Kaldy turned his head toward Weyrauch and
looked at him with irritation. "A rather trivial question,
don't you think, Doctor?"

Whatever response Weyrauch would have made to Kaldy's comment was cut short as the door of the small room was flung forcefully open and Colonel Helmuth Schlacht strode in, his face red with what may have been anger. The door struck the wall beside it loudly as Schlacht said, "There is
another werewolf!"

Weyrauch and Louisa looked at each other in surprise,
and then Weyrauch asked. "Yes. How did you know?"

Schlacht seemed startled by Weyrauch's calm response. "How did I know?! Did
you
know?!"

"Yes, of course. Kaldy..." Weyrauch paused. "What do
you...do you mean that...?"

Schlacht tossed a few papers down at Weyrauch's feet. "I told you that I had made certain that any unusual deaths would be reported to me, did I not? Well, I never rescinded those orders. And I just received this report from our people in Grushia, not five miles from where we are sitting. Last night, when our Gypsy was in chains, covered with wolfsbane and under constant watch, a werewolf killed three farmers in Grushia." He glowered at Kaldy. "Well?"

Kaldy shrugged. "Claudia," he said simply.

"Claudia?" Schlacht demanded, turning to Weyrauch. "What
is the Gypsy talking about? Who is this Claudia?"

"As you said yourself," Weyrauch replied. "Another werewolf
."

"A woman?!" the colonel exclaimed. "A female werewolf?!"

"Don't let it disconcert you so, Colonel Schlacht," Kaldy smiled. "In some circles, the notion might be regarded as quite progressive."

"Keep your mouth shut, Gypsy," Schlacht snapped. "I
wasn't speaking to you."

Kaldy continued to smile with amusement as he said, "I
hope that your supply of wolfsbane is adequate to the task at hand, Colonel."

"What do you mean, Herr Kaldy?" Louisa asked.

The Gypsy shrugged again. "It is obvious, isn't it? It is reasonable to assume that Claudia is trying to find me. It
is also reasonable to assume that she will succeed."

Louisa gasped as she looked over at her cousin. Schlacht appeared neither frightened nor disturbed by the Gypsy's words; and then she noticed that his face had gone deathly pale.

CHAPTER NINE
 

"Oh Lord God, merciful Father, Who knoweth the sins of
each man and from Whom no secrets are hidden, I, a poor,
miserable sinner, come before Thee and beseech Thee to
pardon my transgressions and forgive my iniquities..."

Gottfried von Weyrauch knelt before the altar in the
small but opulent private chapel on the ground floor of the
Ragoczy
Palace
. Perhaps the chapel should not be described
as opulent, for like so many of the old noble Magyar
families, and unlike the bulk of the Hungarian peasants, the
Ragoczys had been Calvinists, and the most ornate Calvinist
chapel would look quite stark by Lutheran, Roman Catholic, or Eastern Orthodox standards; but the Ragoczys had lavished their wealth on their room for
private prayer, and the abundance of precious metals and
finely woven tapestries bespoke the affluence of the defunct
family. In the part of his mind which was not concentrating on his confession, Weyrauch wondered when Göring's avarice would lead him even to the dismantling of the walls and
beams and railings of this chapel. Gold is gold, after all.

"...for the sake of the blessed death and glorious
resurrection of Your Son, Jesus Christ, through Whom we
mortal men are made heirs of eternal life..."

Weyrauch was nervous, frightened, terrified, even as
Louisa was terrified, even as Petra Loewenstein was
terrified. These three admitted their fears while Joachim Festhaller, reluctant to display his own to Colonel
Schlacht, attempted to disguise his desire to leave
Budapest
by concocting all manner of excuses that Schlacht refused
to accept. Only Schlacht seemed genuinely calm and unfrightened by the realization that another of Kaldy's kind was prowling the environs of the city, another werewolf, uncaptured, uncontrolled, unidentified, and doubtless seeking to find the man whom they were keeping imprisoned in
the Ragoczy dungeon.

"...be with us, bless us and keep us, and send Your angels to guard us, that the evil one may have no power over us. I ask this in the precious name of your only begotten Son, to Whom be all glory and honor now and in the
world to come. Amen."

"Hypocrite!"

Weyrauch turned his head and saw his wife Louisa standing beside the chapel door, her arms folded across her chest, her face a mirror of her anger and disgust and fear.
"Hypocrite!" she repeated.

Weyrauch rose up from his knees. "Not now, Louisa, for
God's sake...!"

She laughed incredulously. "For God's sake?! For
God's
sake?!"

"Stop it," he commanded.

"I'll stop when you stop, Gottfried," she replied. "I'll
stop reminding you of what a weak, pathetic excuse for a man you are, when you stop ignoring what you know is your duty as a Christian and as a German."

"‘The powers that be are ordained of God,'" he shot back."Does that sentence sound at all familiar, Louisa? Do you remember who
Saint Paul
was, Louisa?"

"‘Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's,'" she responded. "Do you remember who Jesus Christ is, Gottfried? You talk about him
often enough!"

"I cannot place myself in a position of rebellion against the authority of the State," he shouted. "Scripture is very clear on this point. So is Augustine, and so is Luther. It is given to the Church to govern the realm of the spirit and it is given to the State to govern the realm of the flesh. The Christian must be obedient..."

"The Christian must not kill, Gottfried! The true Christian must rather die than countenance sin!"

"Don't be absurd, Louisa! I haven't killed anyone, and I
would never kill anyone." He began to walk toward the door
of the chapel.

"What do you think you're doing by helping Helmuth? Why
do you think he wants to discover the secret to Kaldy's
condition? Do you think that he plans to open a circus
sideshow?"

Weyrauch spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders,
an action so forceful and uncharacteristic that she was
startled into momentary silence as he shouted, "And where have been your great acts of morality, Louisa? What have you done, other than condemn me for trying to survive? Tell
me, Frau translator, Frau note-taker, Frau onlooker!" He
released her, and as he began again to walk toward the door, he added sarcastically, "For so dedicated a rebel you seem
none the worse for wear."

"You wish to survive, Gottfried?" she asked as she
walked after him. "Is that your cardinal goal, survival?
Very well." She moved in front of him and blocked his path.
"Then let's survive, let's both survive. Let's get away from
here. If you won't go to
Switzerland
, let's at least get away from
Budapest
." She grabbed his hands and squeezed them earnestly. "There's a werewolf out there, Gottfried, a
murdering monster!"

"And now the truth," he smirked. "You are simply frightened, my dear, afraid of dying, afraid of being killed, and so you want to do whatever is necessary to avoid such a fate. And that is
precisely
what I have been doing
for the past eleven years."

"Oh, Gottfried, you idiot!" she screamed. "If you had an ounce of common sense, you'd be as frightened as I am!"

"Oh, but I am as frightened as you are," he said,
pushing her roughly out of the way and continuing on through
the doorway and out into the hall. "I am terrified, Louisa, absolutely terrified, but I am as frightened of the Nazis as I am of the werewolf, I am as frightened of your cousin as I
am of this Claudia who seems to be making her presence known. But there are differences. There are only two of these creatures, and there are millions of armed men under the Führer's command. And werewolves do not establish
concentration camps."

He drew nigh to Schlacht's office, knowing that he was a
few minutes early for the scheduled meeting, but wishing to
end this unpleasant conversation as quickly as possible. He
could have simply pushed open the door and entered the office, but he could not resist having the last word. "One more thing you must keep in mind, Louisa," he said as he placed his hand on the doorknob. "This war will end
eventually. Perhaps we will win..."

"We!" she exclaimed. "We!"

"...and perhaps we shall lose. But win or lose, I shall
survive. Whether
Germany
ends up ruling the world or lying
in ruins, I shall be alive. I doubt that the same thing can be said for your precious Bonhöffer, or for you either,
unless you begin to think like an adult and not an emotional
schoolgirl." He pushed open the door and entered the anteroom, leaving the door open for his wife. Fuming silently and hating him with every ounce of her being, she followed him past Vogel's desk and went into Schlacht's office.

If Weyrauch had hoped that entry into the presence of his wife's cousin would signal an end to argument, he was
sadly mistaken, for as he and Louisa entered the office the
first thing they heard was Petra Loewenstein screaming, "I don't care about my role in the project, and I don't care
about the expansion of knowledge! I want to get away from here
! "

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