Allure Of The Night

In the carriage, Vincent sat beside the window with his legs crossed one over the other and his back leaning against the seat. The wind blew inside the carriage, ruffling the side of his silver hair that he had combed for the soiree.

Since he had left the town of Meadow, the crooked grin on Vincent’s lips didn’t leave, and he unconsciously ran his tongue over one of his fangs, remembering the little mermaid’s wide-eyed expression.

Until now, Vincent was used to two types of women. Women who threw themselves at him, trying to gain his attention in the hopes of settling down with him. Another set of women were terrified when they looked at him because he had scared them.

And Genevieve Barlow fit in neither of the two categories. She was stupidly selfless and foolishly kind, and had no thought of finding a man for herself. Though like many, she looked at him warily, despite it she spoke her mind. Not to mention, he enjoyed ruffling that innocence in her and wanting to corrupt her even more after the expression she had shown this evening to him.

He realised it was something that excited him.

As the carriage pulled farther and farther away from Meadow, the grin on Vincent’s lips slowly disappeared, and a look of hollowness entered his eyes.

When the carriage entered the town of Skellington, Vincent tapped on the glass behind Mr. Briggs, and the coachman stopped the vehicle next to one of the lamp posts, where a burning lantern hung.

Once Vincent stepped out of the carriage, he said, “Go back to the mansion.”

“Yes, Master Vincent,” Mr. Briggs complied without a question and left with the carriage.

Vincent walked on the quiet, deserted streets, his hands in his trousers pockets. The fog had crawled on the ground. He reached the town’s cemetery and stepped inside it, making his way to where his beloved mother rested.

Noticing his mother’s clean grave without a single leaf or twig on it, he murmured,

“Looks like father came to visit you today.”

He spent his time in front of his mother’s grave, standing there for a couple of minutes without speaking but staring at the grave as if offering his company to his mother on this cold night.

“Only if you were alive…”

There wasn’t a day Vincent hadn’t played out the incident in his mind with different scenarios where his mother made out alive with him and his sister. At first, he was enraged at the humans who had abducted them. Then at Marceline for provoking the humans… but somewhere along those initial days of him trying to process, he wondered if it was also his fault that his mother now laid under the ground.

Vincent’s fingers touched the cold black marble of the grave, “If an apology could bring you back, I would do it many times, mother,” his voice was colder than the weather surrounding the cemetery.

If there was a way to bring back the dead, he would have done it long ago, even if it was unethical. But a person who once died never returned. Not even as ghosts. The only ghosts that did exist were the memories of the deceased people.

Before getting up, he pulled a long-stemmed rose from the inside of his coat and placed it on his mother’s grave.

The next day, in the afternoon, when the sun shone brightly, Vincent was in the council building and in his office with his assistant, Patton.

“What have we found out about Fowler’s death so far?” Vincent questioned Patton.

“The same as you already know, Sire. The village head doesn’t know if it is a man or a woman who killed him, and no one saw a hooded person there. The murderer must have run away after killing him. All of them do that.”

Vincent stared outside his office’s window, looking at the carriages parked. He saw Mr. Hart and another council member talking to each other.

Patton continued to speak, “The reports from the lab report confirms that it was a werewolf who attacked–“

“It is a vampire,” Vincent cut Patton’s words midway.

Patton blinked, then shook his head in confusion, “The reports that the council received were of a werewolf.”

“I told Clarks to change the details before she handed it to the council,” came the calm words of Vincent and Patton’s eyes widened.

“Y-you changed the report and gave it to the Council? The Inner Circle members won’t be happy if they find out about this, Mr. Moriarty,” sweat started to form on Patton’s forehead in worry that the pureblooded vampire he worked for would drag him into the dungeon along with him. If he hadn’t previously worked for Eduard Moriarty, Patton would have asked for a transfer. No one was allowed to change lab reports!

Vincent turned to Patton, and a maddening smile appeared on his lips. He said, “Relax, Patton. This is a case related to the Council, and with the number of eyes and ears on it, it is good to mislead people a little just to keep them on their toes.”

Patton asked, “Either way it is going to alert all kinds. If the murderer is from the Council, it must be a man, as we don’t have any women working here.”

Vincent remarked, “Assassin come in both types, Paton. Male and female. A nail was found, stuck in Fowler’s body.”

“That must be easy to find the murderer then!” Patton’s eyes shone in sudden admiration towards Vincent. “Did Clarks mention more about it?”

“Now, that’s the fun part and where you come to use,” came the charming smile from Vincent, and Patton looked at him wearily. He continued, “When the body was first found, the guards didn’t find a nail in there. It was found after the body was brought to the Council here. Get in touch with Clark and find who the nail belongs to. Who retrieved the body and took in reports from the village head?”

Patton quickly shuffled the parchments, and after reading the name, he said, “Wheeler was the one who was there to pick up the body.”

“What time?” Questioned Vincent.

“It was eleven thirty. Why do you ask?”

Instead of responding, Vincent said, “Do you know what is not obvious? A killer returning to the place where the murder took place in such a short time to receive the body.”

Patton’s eyes widened, “To put the nail in it?”

“To make a decent alibi and make sure the person is dead.”

Far from Darthmore, in the town of Skellington and in Lady Camille’s house, the maid who was cleaning Lady Rosetta Hooke’s room found a pile of clothes and an envelope next to it.

Lady Camille had only entered the mansion after having lunch with a fellow woman of the high society, when one of the maids appeared before her in the hallway and bowed. She informed,

“Milady, this was in Lady Rosetta’s room.”

The vampiress took the envelope and stared at it. She dismissed the maid, “Go back to your work.”

The butler came to take the lady’s coat, but Lady Camille was curious to see if her dear niece had written a letter for her. For spending a good time in Skellington while she was here.

Pulling out the letter, Lady Camille read the content written in it, first with a frown and then her eyes narrowed.

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