Monster

"Martin, where the hell is he?" I shouted, the words burning with a frustration I couldn't contain. My voice echoed down the blood-soaked streets of St. Louis, but it felt like it was getting swallowed up by the chaos around us. Every second that passed tightened the knot of anger in my chest, clouding my thoughts.

“Carter,” Martin said, trying to keep his own calm, “we’ll find him. He can’t have gone far. Between the fall and that arrow, he shouldn’t even be on his feet. He’s hurt and desperate, scrambling for any cover he can find.”

My daughter flinched at Martin’s words, her discomfort mirrored in the uneasy silence that settled over us. Regret weighed heavily on all of us, gnawing at the edges of our thoughts. We had acted too hastily, driven by fear and the need for answers we still didn’t have. The uncertainty of it all was suffocating. We had jumped into the confrontation without knowing what would happen. Now, one unsettling truth lingered in all our minds: the Sam we thought we knew, the one we trusted, wasn’t human… and now he might be dead. We had killed him…

“Shit,” Martin muttered, his voice laced with a panic that sent a chill down my spine.

“What’s wrong, Martin?” Eleanor asked, her concern barely masking the dread in her voice.

“He’s heading for the river. If he reaches the water, I’ll lose his trail. There’s no way I’ll be able to track him,” Martin replied, his voice breaking as desperation took hold. I watched in horror as his face contorted, the beast within him pushing to the surface, no longer restrained.

In an instant, he was gone, vanishing with a speed that made him a blur. He was racing against time, against Sam, desperate to stop him before he could reach the river. I could see the guilt etched in his face before he disappeared. He felt this was on him, like he’d let everything spiral out of control. But it wasn’t just him. We were all to blame.

We scrambled to follow, chasing the bloodied trail that led straight to the Mississippi. My heart pounded as we vaulted over the flood wall, stained with blood. There, on the riverbank, we found Martin. He stood alone, surrounded by a massive pool of blood right there in the stones and gravel, his shoulders heaving with the weight of what we had done. Blood squirmed all the way through the rocks, past the mud and disappeared at the water’s edge.

“Martin?” Eleanor was afraid to ask.

“He’s gone. He made it before I got here.” He hung his head.

Eleanor struggled to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes, her breath hitching as she fought to keep her composure. Autumn stood utterly still, her face pale, as if she was afraid that any movement, any flicker of emotion, would shatter whatever fragile hold she had left. I could see it in her eyes. The fear of feeling anything, of letting it all crash down on her at once.

The weight of uncertainty hung thick in the air around us, suffocating in its silence. None of us knew what to think, what any of it meant, or if he was even still alive. We were paralyzed by the unknown, our minds too clouded to grasp onto anything solid.

So, we just stood there, on that desolate riverbank, with the river's murmur the only sound in the stillness. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as we lingered in that moment, each of us lost in our own fears and regrets. No words were spoken, and none were needed. The silence said everything.

After we finally tore ourselves away from the river, Martin led us to the factory… Sam’s home. The place loomed ahead of us like a monument to decay, its walls stained and crumbling, windows shattered and gaping. This place was forgotten to the rest of the world. It was a sprawling, desolate relic, silent and lifeless.

Martin guided us through the maze of rusting machinery and debris, his steps deliberate as he retraced the path he had taken when he first tracked Sam here. The air inside was thick with dust, every breath a reminder of the years that had passed since this place had seen any real activity. But in one corner, hidden away from the vast emptiness, there were signs of life. It was faint, but unmistakable.

We gathered around a small, makeshift camp. A few blankets were piled in a corner, worn and threadbare, and a handful of trinkets lay scattered across the floor. There was a broken watch, a small, weathered book, and random things that looked like broken collectibles, not something he actually used. My eyes were drawn to the clothes hanging on a line strung between two old pieces of rusted conduit at opposing ends of the room. The sight of them made my chest tighten with recognition.

Sam’s clothes. He’d always dressed simply, cycling through just a few shirts, all plain and unremarkable. But they were his, and seeing them hanging there in this forgotten place brought a wave of emotions crashing over me. They swayed gently, caught in a draft that whispered through the broken walls, as if they were the last echoes of his presence, lingering in a place that had once been a refuge for him. This secret silent life… I had so many questions. I wanted to know.

One thing caught my eye, and it felt like a fist driving into my gut. There, on a makeshift nightstand, a battered old table that had been Frankenstein-ed back together, was a small picture. It wasn’t tucked away or hidden, but lying face up, right out in the open, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. My breath caught in my throat when I realized what I was looking at.

It was a picture of Autumn.

“How did he get that?” Clara asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, but I could hear the undercurrent of unease beneath it.

Eleanor, with a furrowed brow, moved slowly over to the makeshift table and picked up the photo. She studied it for a moment, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned on her. “This is from one of our photo albums,” she murmured, her voice growing softer, almost disbelieving. “I remember this one... I kept it because it was so small, easy to tuck away. He must have taken it…”

Without a word, Autumn turned and walked out of the factory. Her steps were measured, almost mechanical, as if she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. I watched her go, knowing that she wasn’t just leaving the building—she was fleeing from the crushing weight of it all. She didn’t want us to see her break. The mask she’d been wearing, the one that held her emotions at bay, had finally cracked. And she needed to be alone when it shattered completely.

She made her way to the cars, her back stiff with the effort of keeping everything inside. And when she got there, she didn’t come back. The rest of us stood in stunned silence, feeling the void her absence left. There was still so much we didn’t know. Sam was something… but he was different.

It was sometime later. After hours of searching the factory, we had all exhausted ourselves in a frenzied search. Everyone had given up and gone home, one by one. All of us disappointed with what had happened… and what we had done.

I was sitting in the kitchen with El, having a drink, trying to take the edge off after everything that transpired. Autumn was in her room. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone since we left the factory. She looked like she had poured out her tears by the car while we searched, her eyes red and puffy. She was quiet again once we found her as we left.

“He said, ‘Nothing.’ He didn’t want anything from us…” I muttered to Eleanor, my voice hollow with disbelief. I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “What was he doing?”

Eleanor shook her head too, the uncertainty etched deep in her eyes. “Maybe he was like Martin,” she began, then quickly corrected herself, “is like Martin.” She took a long, heavy drink from her glass of wine, as if it might drown out the confusion and regret swirling inside her. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice thick with the weight of hindsight. “We should’ve just brought him here. We could’ve called Martin and Jane for backup. We could’ve confronted him right here, together!” Her voice cracked with a mix of anger and sorrow. “We could have done things so differently…”

“No, we couldn’t have… Did you see how strong he was? There’s no way we could’ve handled this here, inside. Even with Jane’s help, it could’ve gone so wrong.”

“But we could’ve done something different,” Eleanor insisted, her voice trembling. “It didn’t have to end like that…” The fear that we had killed him hung heavy between us, a truth we didn’t want to face but couldn’t escape. It had been an accident, but that didn’t make it any less real.

“I know, sweetie, but it’s too late now. We had to take him somewhere else for Wicklow’s spell to work. Our warding wouldn’t have allowed their power to work here.”

“I know, Carter…” she said, but her voice was distant, as if she was trying to push away what she already understood.

“El… I saw him walk right by me. He had no idea we were even there in the warehouse. He looked right at us and didn’t see a thing. If he was human, none of it would’ve worked.” I tried to make her see the logic, tried to make sense of the senseless. But it was like trying to soothe a wound too deep to heal with words.

I had my own regrets, gnawing at me from the inside, but we had to act. We had to know, for Autumn’s sake. His connection to our daughter made everything more urgent, more dangerous. Whatever the truth was, we had to uncover it, no matter the cost. She was falling in deep with him and once Martin saw what he saw… we had to act.

Eleanor just shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I just hope Autumn’s going to be okay. It’s one thing to find out someone you care about isn’t completely human, but it’s something else entirely to think you killed them before you knew the whole truth.” She took another drink, her hand trembling. “I just feel… I feel like we lost another member of the family.” Tears started to silently roll down my wife’s face.

I wiped the tears away and pulled her into a hug. “I know, sweetie… I know.” My voice was barely a whisper, echoing the emptiness that had settled between us. The realization that we had done something irrevocable.

After a short and restless sleep, it was morning again. I didn’t feel like I got any rest at all. It took every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep from just lying there all day. I knew things had to be done. I stumbled out of bed and quickly realized what kind of day I was walking into. As soon as I came around the corner into the kitchen, I met Martin. He was waiting silently at the kitchen counter, in the darkness of the dead house.

“Martin,” I said, shocked, “geez, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry for letting myself in while you slept, Carter. It couldn’t wait. I have news.”

“What is it,” I asked. “Did you find him?” I found myself hoping Sam was okay. I was worried about him, even though he had lied to us from the start.

“In a way…” Martin said vaguely. He looked hesitant before he explained. “Listen, I need you to remain calm for a moment. Allow me to explain,” he tried preparing me for what came next. “There is someone I need you to meet.”

Then, a man stepped around the corner. He was taller than me but about the same build. His hair was a solid grey, almost silver. He moved and stood behind Martin so quickly, yet he never made a sound as he transitioned around the house. He was like a ghost.

“This is Charles,” Martin said. “He is my creator.”

I stood in shock and silence as I realized who was standing in my kitchen. I quickly took account in my mind how many weapons were hidden in this part of the house. What the fuck was Martin thinking to let this immortal into our home like this? I thought he knew better than this. He was supposed to protect my family.

“I know what you are thinking, son,” Charles spoke for the first time. His voice was calm and fluid, “You have nothing to fear. It took almost the entire night to convince Martin that I needed to meet you. He protects your family as fiercely as I protect my own,” the elder vampire said.

I analyzed his words, “Your own?”

Martin cut in, “Charles has a human family too.” Martin looked at his old mentor, “A lot has changed.”

“Martin was right to fear my return. As I am sure he has told you before, I wasn’t always on the right side of things.” He patted Martin’s shoulder in admiration, “The last time Martin and I were in each other’s company, we did not part on good terms. I thought him weak for his restraint from taking human life. I used to let my urges run wild. They ruled me. I’m sad to say that my protégé surpassed me in maturity back then. However, I do not let the beast control me anymore. I have learned from Martin’s example and found the err of my ways. I am the master of my mind now. I have those, like Martin,” he gestured towards him, “that I care very deeply for.”

I found myself easing out of my rigid stance. His calming words and humble speech seemed totally sincere. He had a strange, soothing presence to him. I trusted his words to be true, but I would still never totally let my guard down.

“Okay,” I said, “so why did you want to meet me?”

He shifted his stance silent yet swiftly, “I would like to speak with all of you. I wish to ask a few questions about the one Martin has told me about. This, Sam fellow.”

“Sam? What do you want to know about him?” I asked, confused.

“Ah, let us wait a few moments for your two ladies to join us,” Charles said, expectantly.

Only about three seconds passed before Eleanor and Autumn came around the corner into the kitchen to get the coffee pot going. They’d both probably be exhausted from our extensive searching last night. Not to mention just the toll of the stress of it all. They both came to a stop as they rounded the corner to see the three of us standing at the kitchen counter.

“Martin,” Eleanor gasped, surprised. “What is it? Did you find anything?” She looked at Charles with a question showing obviously across her face.

Autumn shared the same confused look as her mother, but she didn’t speak.

“Um, El… this is Charles,” I gestured towards the vampire.

For a moment, that name meant nothing to her. Then, once she analyzed the situation and who all was present, she realized exactly who he was. She knew everything we were told about the three immortals that were in the city.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll explain later, but he’s here to help… I think.” I looked back at the pair of vampires, unsure of their questions.

“I hope this helps you in some way. But I believe it is you who will be helping me.” Charles reached out to shake hands with my wife. “First, I had a few questions, if that is okay with the lady of the house?”

“Um, sure,” Eleanor agreed. She was taken aback by the very, very strange turn of morning events. Charles seemed sincere, and… polite.

Charles turned to Autumn, “Ah, and you must be Autumn. Martin has told me much about you.”

Autumn spoke warily, “Hello.” She shook his hand and then took a seat at our small kitchen table. Her face had an unsure look, but she had too much going on inside her mind to care. I knew she trusted my decisions, so she wasn’t worried if I wasn’t. She barely spoke a word.

“Charles wanted to ask us some questions about Sam,” I tried catching them up.

Autumn and Eleanor had another puzzled look. I think we all did. That’s when they began to explain.

Martin started, “After I left you last night, I met with Charles. We reconnected. I told him about what I found when I followed Sam, and what happened last night.”

“Yes, and when he told me that person was the one who killed the coven of witches, my interest was piqued.”

“Coven?” I asked. “What coven?”

“I am one of three that was sent in search of a creature,” Charles explained. “The others are very different and very powerful in their own ways. One of them goes by the name Mercy Lewis, and she is a witch. An ancient and very powerful witch at that. She has many followers, and branches of her coven in different places all around the world. They are highly secretive and very exclusive.”

“I was wrong before,” Martin interrupted. “Sam didn’t kill all of them. All the men were killed by the women. Their throats were all slit. Sacrifices for a ritual. The women were all followers of Mercy. The cuts were clean, and that was the only damage done to the men’s bodies. The women, however, were slaughter.”

“Now my question is, how would he have known about the coven? Do you have any clue how he found them? Or why he killed them?” Charles asked curiously.

“No,” Eleanor answered quickly, her interest piqued. “This is all just as much a surprise for us.” She was quick to turn the questions around. “What are you thinking? Do you know what, or who he was? Is…” she caught herself again.

“Ah,” he realized, “you can tell.” He nodded to himself, “This is most definitely not the usual circumstances for me. I usually know exactly what I am walking into when I am tasked to track someone.”

“Wait a second,” I interjected. “What are we talking about? Are you saying that you think Sam was the one you were sent here for?” How could that have been possible? If he was the creature, how could I not have seen it?

Charles answered truthfully, “I am not certain of that yet, but I am looking at him very closely. You see, a witch’s coven is a highly guarded secret. They amass their power by building numbers. The most powerful is the one at the top. Mercy Lewis is the founder and leader of this particular coven. If those below her are killed, she loses power. Witches in a strong coven like this are not easily killed. One does not just stumble upon a coven and kill them while performing a ritual like that. They are very paranoid.”

“There would have been spells, barriers, all sorts of illusions and enchantments to keep people away while they performed a sacrifice like they were,” Martin said.

Autumn spoke up unexpectedly, “How could he do that, but the Wicklow’s spell worked on him last night?”

She was right that it didn’t make any sense. The Wicklow spell worked perfectly. He never saw us, and it slowed down his perception of time long enough for us to get out of there. Everything worked as it was supposed to.

“I don’t know how he did it yet, but he did. Mercy summoned Phineas, the last of our three, and I to the location once she felt what had happened to her followers. The spells and enchantments were all there. Everything was set up and still in effect. Yet someone got in.” Charles was very perplexed.

I didn’t understand magic all that well myself, but I knew the basic stuff I had learned in my years. Things weren’t adding up.

“He’s not affected by silver either,” I blurted out as soon as it crossed my mind.

“Yes, Martin told me this. He said he carried one of your blades on him, correct?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Strange…” Charles was lost in thought. He actually walked out of the kitchen and into the living room as he stroked his chin.

Autumn, Eleanor, and I all looked to Martin, he nodded towards the living room. We all followed Charles into the next room as he searched his thoughts.

“This is very strange… very strange indeed.” He paced slowly in a circle around the perimeter of the large room. “I’d like to tell you all a story. It’s something I experienced as a child. Before I became a vampire, of course. This will be new for even you, Martin,” Charles offered.

“Please,” I gestured towards one of the more giant sitting chairs among the couches and other seats.

“Thank you, Carter,” Charles smiled.

We all took a seat and prepared to hear a story from a time long ago.