Chapter 7 - Unreal Possibilities

A few days later Madeline had got a phone call from Chris informing her of when Sophia’s funeral was going to be. Whoever had killed her had ensured that her parents couldn’t possibly give her an open casket funeral and Chris had asked Madeline to attend, probably more for him than anyone else. Madeline didn’t really know Sophia, she saw her on the few occasions that she ate at Salvatore’s but other than that it was only really through Chris that she knew of her at all. Nevertheless, she was more than willing to pay her final respects to the poor girl who had lost her life in such a horrific manner.

The funeral was held on a wet and cloudy Sunday morning at St. Peter’s Church in downtown Armitage, and due to the bad weather the service was held entirely indoors. Madeline sat a few pews back from the main family, feeling that was more respectful as she didn’t really know Sophia, but she could see Chris sitting with Salvatore and Lucile, his face ashen and sad. An elderly woman who Madeline assumed must have been Sophia’s grandmother sat next to Lucile who was crying uncontrollably into her handkerchief. The old woman wore a black veil over her face and clutched a crucifix to her chest with her thin, bony hand.

As Madeline sat in silence she felt a draught come from seemingly nowhere and she shivered as someone sat down next to her.

‘Why Miss Jameson,’ said Professor Mason quietly. ‘I did not expect to see you here.’

‘Oh, hello Professor,’ said Madeline, somewhat stunned. ‘I didn’t know you knew the Damicos.’

‘Well of course I heard of what happened to poor Sophia, and I have quite the memory for students. I remember Miss Damico, and your brother as well, that’s him with the poor girl’s parents, is it not?’

‘Yes, he was quite close with Sophia at one time.’

‘Such a tragedy,’ said the professor, shaking his head. ‘To have a young life cut so short, terrible. You knew Miss Damico, I assume?’

‘Not really,’ said Madeline, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. ‘I knew her through Chris and I came for him as well as the family.’

‘But of course, a touching gesture. Shall we?’ While they had been talking the service had ended and people were rising from their pews and filing past the coffin to pay their final respects to Sophia, as well as offer condolences to her parents. Madeline nodded silently and the two of them made their way to the front of the church. Salvatore, Lucile and Sophia’s grandmother were all standing beside the coffin, thanking people as they passed, and after Madeline had said her goodbyes to Sophia she moved off to stand with Chris, but as Professor Mason passed the coffin, Sophia’s grandmother reached out with surprising speed and grabbed the man’s wrist.

‘There is much evil about you,’ breathed the old woman, clutching at both the professor’s wrist and her crucifix. ‘You are not welcome here. Leave us, devil!’

‘What’s going on?’ asked Chris, as he strode over to find out what the commotion was about.

‘I really have no idea,’ said Professor Mason, trying to make it seem like he found the whole thing amusing. ‘The poor woman’s clearly grief stricken, she doesn’t know what she is saying.’

‘Evil, evil,’ repeated the grandmother, tightening her grip on the professor’s wrist and staring at him through her black veil, all the while performing the sign of the cross with the crucifix clutched in her hand.

‘Mama, let him go,’ said Salvatore, walking round to his mother’s side and attempting to break her hold on Professor Mason’s arm. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ he added, looking apologetically at the professor.

‘That’s quite alright,’ said Professor Mason, finally wrenching his arm free of the old woman’s vice-like grip. He smoothed down his suit and smiled thinly before extending his hand to Salvatore. ‘Professor Jonathan Mason,’ he said silkily. ‘And may I say how sorry I am that this terrible tragedy has befallen you.’

‘Salvatore Damico,’ nodded Sophia’s father, taking the other man’s hand and shaking it briefly. ‘I appreciate you coming out to pay your respects to Sophia but how did you know her?’

‘I am head of the History Department at the University and I have quite the memory for students. I remember Sophia, a charming girl, a woman of taste no doubt.’ Inside, Mason revelled evilly at his little quip, even though he was the only one who understood it. Outwardly, he was the picture of solemn respect as he engaged in conversation with the father of one of his meals: to tour the battlefield, as he liked to call it.

‘Well, my wife and I thank you for coming all this way for our little girl, but we really should get my Mother home, she gets a little overwrought sometimes.’

‘But of course, my warmest regards to Mrs. Damico.’ Turning on his heel, Mason nodded briefly to Madeline before making his way out of the church. Stopping at the entrance, he waited for a second or two before Andreas pulled up in the Mercedes Benz and moving quickly Mason got in the back seat and slammed the door behind him.

‘Blasted woman,’ he hissed, as soon as he was seated. ‘I swear, if I live to be a thousand I’ll never understand how they always know.’

‘Sir?’ asked Andreas, glancing up into the rear view mirror.

‘I mean really, I only came for a little fun,’ continued Mason to himself.

‘Is everything alright, sir?’ pressed Andreas, still looking at Mason in the rear view mirror with his steely, dark eyes.

‘Oh it doesn’t matter,’ said Mason, brushing the subject away with a casual wave of his hand. ‘Take me home, Andreas.’         

‘Yes sir.’ As Mason drove off, Madeline approached Salvatore, who was tending to his mother.

‘What was that all about?’ she asked, careful to remember that she was still at a funeral and emotions would be raw.

‘There’s something not right about that man,’ said Salvatore in a tone much more serious than usual. ‘I looked in his eyes and saw nothing.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Madeline, frowning slightly in confusion.

‘You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes, Madeline, and in my time I’ve grown used to reading people that way. It’s not an exact science I’ll grant you,’ he added, as Madeline looked at him slightly incredulously. ‘But I’m not often wrong, and I’m telling you, I saw nothing in that man’s eyes, and that worries me.’

‘But what was all that business with your Mother?’ asked Madeline, still curious about that topic.

‘Mama may be a bit dramatic but she’s not crazy,’ said Salvatore quietly, casting a quick glance at his mother. ‘She can tell about people better than I, and something about your Professor has her spooked. I’d watch yourself around him if I were you.’

‘But Professor Mason saved my life the other night,’ said Madeline, trying to make sense of it all. ‘He’s a nice man, really.’

‘Maybe so,’ said Salvatore, taking Madeline’s hands in his. ‘I hope for your sake you’re right.’

 

*          *          *

 

News of Sophia Damico’s murder had spread quickly and for many the meeting scheduled with Sergeant Thomas could not come fast enough, so when Madeline, Ben and Abby arrived for the first of these meetings they were not surprised to find the auditorium nearly full, with rows of worried faces lining the seats. Sergeant Thomas smiled at Madeline as she and her two friends made their way to a group of free seats and when everyone was settled he walked out from behind the table that had been set up for him and placed his hands behind his back.

‘Good evening ladies and gentleman,’ he began. ‘First let me say how glad I am that so many of you have turned up, this shows that you take your personal safety seriously. Before I start I’d like to ask you to repeat what you learn tonight to anyone you know who isn’t here, the more people who are aware of the current dangers hopefully the less people will fall victim to them. Now then, shall we begin?’

The meeting lasted just over an hour, with Sergeant Thomas going over basic safety rules and indicating the literature that he had brought with him. A special phone line had been set up for people with information concerning the recent attacks, and as the students began to file out of their seats at the end of the meeting Sergeant Thomas was handing out pamphlets and contact cards to anyone who would take them.

‘Remember to store this number in your phones as well as keep the card handy,’ he said as he passed out the relevant literature. ‘That way you’re not likely to lose it. Hi

Madeline.’

‘Oh, hi,’ said Madeline as she took a pamphlet and contact card from Sergeant Thomas.

‘Is this your number or a different one?’

‘Oh that’s right, you have one of my cards already, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ nodded Madeline.

‘Well this is a new number but keep mine anyway.’

‘Okay.’ Sergeant Thomas looked about him briefly before addressing Madeline again.

‘Listen, can you wait behind a minute?’ he said.

‘Yeah, sure, I’ll just be over there.’

‘Okay, great.’ Madeline folded the pamphlet and put it in her bag before slipping the card into her wallet. She walked back over to Ben and Abby who were waiting for her by the door.

‘Do you guys mind waiting for me?’ she asked, as she hitched her bag back up on her shoulder. ‘Sergeant Thomas wants to talk to me.’

‘Yeah, no problem,’ said Abby, who ushered Ben over to some seats in the front row, prodding him to pay attention to where he was going.

‘Sorry babe,’ he said, fiddling with his phone. ‘I was putting that number in.’

‘Well do it when you sit down,’ said Abby, giving him another nudge. Madeline smiled to herself and returned to the table where Sergeant Thomas was packing his things away.

‘How are you, Madeline?’ he asked as he snapped his briefcase shut.

‘Fine, thanks,’ said Madeline. ‘A little shook up about all that’s going on at the moment but I’m coping.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Sergeant Thomas, coming round to her side of the table. ‘Listen, about the guy who attacked you. We’ve conducted extensive searches and put out an APB but it looks like he’s just up and vanished, no sign of him anywhere.’

‘Do you think he killed Sophia Damico?’ asked Madeline, a grave tone in her voice.

‘I don’t know, it would be convenient to say yes but to be honest the MO of the Damico case was different from the others.’

‘How so?’

‘The other attacks were just that, attacks. This guy, assuming it was the same one who tried to attack you, worked on the streets and we always found his victims in alleys or abandoned buildings. This suggests he was a drifter or something, acting on impulse. Whereas, whoever killed the Damico girl took her someplace for a few days before killing her, suggesting they have a fixed address.’ Sergeant Thomas paused and surveyed Madeline before continuing. ‘I don’t mean to upset you, but I thought you should know all the facts.’

‘No, I appreciate it,’ said Madeline. ‘It doesn’t make the facts any more pleasant but at least I know them. So if the two cases are definitely different why have you been assigned them both?’

‘Well like I told your brother when he came to see me the other day,’ said the sergeant, lowering his voice somewhat. ‘These cases are strange and I seem to have gotten a bit of a rep for investigating the first set of attacks.’ He cast his gaze downward for a moment before continuing. ‘I guess they think I have a flair for the unusual,’ he said half jokingly.

‘What do you mean the cases are strange?’ asked Madeline, her curiosity growing.

‘Well with the first set of attacks each victim suffered massive blood loss but each crime scene gave up no evidence of where that blood could have gone. No traces whatsoever, not even any traces of cleaning agents so it can’t have even been spilled and then cleaned up.’

‘So what’s strange about the Damico case, I mean apart from the obvious?’ pressed Madeline.

‘Well the MO’s different but once again the victim sustained extreme blood loss, only…’

‘Only what?’ asked Madeline when the sergeant didn’t finish.

‘Are you sure you’re okay hearing about this kind of stuff? It gets kind of grisly.’

‘Tell me, please,’ said Madeline.

‘Okay.’ The sergeant breathed deeply and ran his hand over his face before continuing. ‘I know it sounds crazy but the only way the coroner can determine the source of the blood loss in the first set of cases are through two puncture-like wounds on the side of the neck.’

‘Puncture-like wounds?’

‘I know, I know,’ said Sergeant Thomas, sounding exasperated. ‘As soon as I say that to anyone they immediately think of those old vampire movies and to be honest I’m having trouble making people take these cases seriously.’

‘But people are dying,’ said Madeline, shocked at the irreverence that could be shown in the face of death.

‘I know, but when you’ve got some nut out there trying his best to make you think he’s a vampire you can’t help but run into problems.’

‘Have any of these attacks happened during the day?’ asked Madeline, deciding for a moment to humour the insane possibility of these crimes being committed by a supernatural being.

‘No, that’s just it,’ said the sergeant. ‘Whoever’s doing this has read up on vampires and knows their stuff. All the signs in this case would point to a vampire, if they existed, so we’re dealing with one seriously messed up individual, assuming he’s acting alone.’

‘And assuming it’s a he,’ said Madeline.

‘That too,’ nodded the sergeant.

‘Well, assuming for the time being that you’re looking for a man, do you think he might have accomplices?’ asked Madeline, feeling a knot in her stomach grow at the thought of the hooded figure being one of these vampire-like killers.

‘I don’t know,’ said Sergeant Thomas, sighing. ‘There’s so little evidence left behind that it could be one man or a dozen, but from your statement and the fact that you were only attacked by one assailant I’m hoping there’s just one of him. I have enough to deal with at the moment without the possibility of a gang of murderers on the loose.’ Madeline took all this in for a second, contemplating the gruesome possibilities that the sergeant was laying out for her. She didn’t like what her mind was throwing at her right now, not one bit.

‘You also mentioned that the Damico case was strange,’ she said, images of the poor girl’s funeral still fresh in her mind. ‘I mean, I know having the remains sent to her parents was really odd, not to mention sick, but you mentioned something about the MO being the same.’

‘Yes, that poor girl had pretty much all the blood drained from her like the others, but this was different.’

‘Different how?’

‘It was almost like she had been butchered, cut up like you would a piece of meat.’

‘You think someone ate her?’ asked Madeline, the disgust clearly registering in her voice.

‘Either that or someone wants us to think so.’ Madeline and the sergeant remained silent for a second or two as the horrific images swam in both their minds. The silence was broken by Abby approaching with Ben in tow.

‘Maddie, we’re going to wait outside for you so Ben can have a smoke.’

‘Okay,’ said Madeline, momentarily shaken from the world of killers and motives. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Cool. Well, see you in a minute.’ Madeline smiled weakly as her friends made their way to the auditorium door but her expression resumed its seriousness when she turned back to Sergeant Thomas.

‘Sorry about that, you were saying?’

‘Basically Madeline, I’m worried that we have two, not one, killers out there. The question is whether they’re working together, if there are two, of course.’ Twisting her bag strap in her hands Madeline felt she had to tell Sergeant Thomas about the hooded figure. Although he had never done her harm she could not take the risk, just in case he turned out to be dangerous.

‘Sergeant, I don’t know if it’s important but over the past week or so I’ve seen a strange man around campus.’

‘What did he look like?’ asked the sergeant, picking up his notebook and clicking his pen.

‘I don’t really know,’ said Madeline sheepishly. ‘He’s always covered from head to foot in some kind of tatty robe; I’ve never seen his face.’

‘Do you think it might be the man who attacked you?’ asked the sergeant as he wrote in his notebook.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Madeline. ‘You see I’ve run into him a few times now, once even in my dorm room and he’s not once tried to hurt me.’

‘In your dorm room?’

‘Yes.’

‘How’d he get in there?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Madeline, shrugging. ‘I always lock the door and windows before I leave and no one else could have let him in.’

‘What happened?’

‘He tried to speak to me but Chris came knocking at the door.’

‘Did Chris see him?’

‘No, and that’s what’s got me so confused. I can’t have taken my eyes off him for a minute but when I looked back he’d gone.’

‘Where to?’

‘I don’t know, there isn’t really anywhere in my room he could have hidden himself.’

‘You say he tried to speak to you?’

‘Briefly, yes,’ said Madeline. ‘He said my life’s in danger.’

‘From who?’ asked the sergeant, who had stopped writing momentarily.

‘He was very vague, but he said I’ve been chosen or something, and he said the name of my History Professor.’

‘Professor Mason?’ said Sergeant Thomas, his eyebrows rising questioningly. ‘What could he have to do with this?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Madeline, feeling slightly embarrassed at retelling her strange tale, realising once again how crazy it sounded. ‘But I went to see him about it the other day.’

‘What did he say?’ Madeline paused for a moment as she tried to remember her conversation with Professor Mason.

‘Madeline?’ said the sergeant when she didn’t reply.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘The stress must be getting to me. I’m having trouble remembering what we talked about, but I seem to recall Professor Mason showing interest in the man I’ve seen.’

‘And you can’t remember anything else?’ asked the sergeant, his pen poised over his notebook.

‘I don’t know,’ said Madeline, shaking her head. ‘My memory’s usually fine but at least twice recently it’s just given up on me, you know?’

‘You’ve been through some tough times,’ said Sergeant Thomas reassuringly. ‘It’s not surprising that your memory gave out on you. I’ll go and see Professor Mason as soon as I can.’

‘Thank you. I just hope you catch whoever’s doing this,’ said Madeline.

‘Me too, me too. Anyway, thanks for coming.’

‘No problem.’

‘You think of anything else you call me, okay?’

‘I will.’

‘Anyway, you don’t want to keep your friends waiting.’ Madeline looked slightly embarrassed for a moment, as she’d forgotten all about Ben and Abby, so she said goodbye to the sergeant and rejoined Ben and Abby.

 

*          *          *

 

Now joining the warning posters that were adorning every notice board on campus there were articles about the proposed curfew the University was thinking of implementing, as well as advertisements for various female self defence classes that seemed to have sprang up overnight.

‘You feel like checking one out, Maddie?’ asked Abby one morning as she, Ben and Madeline were on their way to the cafeteria for breakfast.

‘No way babe,’ said Ben, smiling boyishly. ‘You already kick my a*s enough without you learning how to do it properly.’

‘Well maybe if you weren’t such a dumbass all the time I wouldn’t need to kick your a*s,’ said Abby, punching her boyfriend in the arm.

‘Ow, well if the two of you go maybe Maddie could protect me.’

‘You’re on your own, Ben,’ smiled Madeline.

‘In that case I’m buying a gun,’ joked Ben.

‘You’d probably shoot yourself in the balls,’ said Abby drily. Madeline laughed as Ben winced and once they had paid for their breakfast they made their way to their usual table.

‘I was serious though,’ said Abby as she sat down. ‘I’m really thinking about one of those classes. You up for it Maddie?’

‘I might check it out, lord knows it would make Chris happy.’

‘How is he anyway?’ asked Abby seriously. ‘I imagine the funeral was pretty tough on him.’

‘Yeah, it was tough on everybody but I think Chris went for Sophia’s parents more than anything else.’

‘That was good of him,’ said Ben. ‘They need someone right now.’

‘Yeah but get this,’ said Madeline conspiratorially. ‘You’ll never guess who showed up at the funeral?’

‘Who?’ asked Ben and Abby almost in unison.

‘Professor Mason.’

‘Mason?’ said Abby, frowning. ‘What was he doing there?’

‘He apparently remembered Sophia and Chris.’

‘Well it was nice of him to pay his respects,’ said Ben while he stirred his coffee.

‘But that’s not the weirdest thing,’ said Madeline, casting a quick glance to her either side to make sure no one was eavesdropping. ‘Sophia’s grandmother went crazy on Mason.’

‘Crazy?’

‘Yeah, we were all filing past the coffin and Mason was behind me, but when he walked past Sophia’s family the grandmother grabbed him by the wrist and wouldn’t let him go.’

‘What for?’

‘I don’t know but she seemed pretty shook up. She kept doing the sign of the cross and calling Mason evil.’

‘I win then,’ said Ben, taking a bite of his Danish.

‘You win what?’ asked Abby, looking irritably at Ben.

‘The bet I had with Cody that Mason was a vampire.’ The mention of vampires cast Madeline’s mind straight back to the chilling conversation she had had with Sergeant Thomas the other night and she barely noticed when Abby delivered another punch to Ben’s increasingly bruised arm.

‘Ben you really are a dick,’ said Abby, shaking her head.

‘Good thing you love me then, eh?’ said Ben, rubbing his arm.

‘Damn straight, you’d be dead otherwise, eh Maddie?’

‘Hmm, what?’ said Madeline, realising someone had said her name.

‘I said I’d have killed Ben long ago if I didn’t love him so much.’

‘He’s very lucky,’ smiled Madeline.

‘Don’t feel so lucky right about now,’ laughed Ben, still rubbing his arm.

‘Oh don’t be such a baby,’ said Abby, leaning over to Ben to give him a kiss. ‘I barely touched you.’

‘Well I’d hate to see what you could do if you were serious.’

‘What made you think Mason might be a vampire?’ asked Madeline out of nowhere.

‘What? Oh, you know,’ shrugged Ben, feeling cautious not to warrant another punch from Abby. ‘No one knows anything about him, you never see him outside, that kind of thing.’

‘I know him well enough,’ protested Madeline.

‘I said no one knows anything about him, that’s different,’ said Ben, giving Madeline a meaningful glance. ‘Think about it, what do you actually know about him?’

‘Well… he travels a lot,’ suggested Madeline, realising that Ben might actually have a point.

‘Well he’s from England isn’t he? That pretty much tells you he likes to travel. Anything else?’

‘He’s spent time in England but I don’t know if he’s from there.’

‘There you see,’ said Ben. ‘You don’t know.’

‘Is there a point to this?’ asked Abby.

‘Look, I could tell you the name of my Professor’s childhood pet,’ said Ben. ‘You spend enough time in someone’s class you get to know the person and not just the Professor. I get the feeling that around here Professor Mason is just that, a Professor.’

‘Ben, just because he likes to keep to himself doesn’t mean…’

‘Charlie,’ said Ben before taking another sip of coffee.

‘What?’ said Madeline and Abby together.

‘That’s what Professor Dayton’s childhood pet was called, Charlie. He was a ginger tomcat.’

‘Fascinating,’ said Madeline, getting a little frustrated. ‘But just because I don’t know what my Professor called his cat when he was a kid doesn’t mean he’s a vampire.’

‘But how about never seeing him outside?’ asked Ben triumphantly. ‘We’ve been here how long? And I can’t remember ever seeing him outside.’

‘What about Sophia’s funeral?’ asked Madeline, confused as to why she was even having an argument about whether her history professor was a vampire. ‘How could he have gotten to the church if he was a vampire?’

‘When was the funeral?’ asked Ben.

‘The Sunday before last,’ said Madeline without thinking, it was a day she would not soon forget.

‘It rained that day, didn’t it?’

‘Yes, what’s your point?’

‘I remember it, overcast as hell, no sunlight at all.’

‘So?’

‘Have you never seen a vampire movie?’ asked Ben, tapping his index finger on the table. ‘Vampires can move about during the day, just not in direct sunlight.’

‘Do you realise how crazy that sounds?’ asked Abby, fixing Ben with an incredulous stare.

‘I’m just saying, is all,’ said Ben, holding his hands up defensively.

‘You’re full of crap, is what’s all,’ said Abby, shaking her head again. ‘Can you believe this, Maddie?’ But Madeline didn’t answer, as crazy as what Ben was saying there was a strange logic to it.

Could it be…?

No, it was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

 

*          *          *

 

Refusing to believe the ludicrous notions that her mind kept churning up, Madeline finished her breakfast with Ben and Abby and made her way to the library to put in some more work on her Jack the Ripper paper. The world around her may have been going crazy but she still had deadlines to meet.

Leaving the cafeteria, Madeline left the building through the nearest exit and made her away across campus towards the library. Smiling hellos at the few people she knew her mind raced with fragmented thoughts from the conversation she just had, as well as the one with Sergeant Thomas at the safety meeting, and before she knew it she had arrived at the library.

Madeline attempted to shake off the nagging thoughts that were bothering her as she reached into her bag and turned off her phone. Refastening the clasp of her bag, she said good morning to the librarian on Reception and entered the lift, bound for the History section on the second floor.

Returning a brief good morning from a student waiting to get in the lift, Madeline found a vacant table and set her bag down, fishing several textbooks from inside. Checking her notes from her last lecture, Madeline flicked through one of the textbooks until she came upon the relevant section and began reading. She knew she had to concentrate but the events of the last few days kept playing on her mind and after she had read the same line five times she decided that she was far too distracted to study. Sighing in defeat, Madeline began to pack up her things but while reaching for her bag she accidentally knocked one of her textbooks to the floor, and out of it fell a small piece of paper.

Knowing she had yet to read that particular textbook, Madeline frowned slightly at the small white oblong of paper as she picked it up, wondering what it could be. She thought it might have been a makeshift bookmark used by another student but turning it over she found some writing that caught her attention:

Madeline,

779/P.COH

IMPORTANT!

 

Blinking in disbelief, Madeline saw her name staring back at her along with what appeared to be a reference number for Armitage University Library, but what puzzled her was how it could have gotten into her textbook. Then it hit her, the hooded figure had been in her dorm room the other night; he could have left it for her. Her mind racing once again, Madeline bit her lip as she deliberated on what to do, and after a few moments’ thought she decided to check it out. Standing up and shouldering her bag, she held the piece of paper tightly in one hand and set off in search of whatever this number referenced.

It took a little bit of time but Madeline eventually found herself in the right section, Folklore & Mythology, and going along the shelves she found the book she was looking for, Myths & Legends of Eastern Europe by Phillip Cohen. Taking it off the shelves she wondered how this collection of stories and fairytales could possibly be important but seeing as she had spent the better part of fifteen minutes searching for it Madeline decided to at least take a look at it. Seating herself at a nearby table, Madeline fished her glasses out of her bag and began to examine the book.

It was written in 1973 by folklorist Phillip Cohen and as Madeline had expected it was filled with the kind of tales that got made into cheesy horror films and got told around the campfire, not the sort of thing that she would normally waste her time on. She read a few pages before getting bored and remembering how she had come to find this book in the first place she began flicking through to see if anything had been left behind in the pages. It was a silly notion, she thought to herself, but if it was important enough for the hooded figure, whoever he was, to break into her room and sneak a note into one of her textbooks then Madeline felt she would at least look through the whole book before giving up.

Not finding any scraps of paper or hidden notes, Madeline was approaching the end of the book and began to wonder whether she was the victim of a woefully unfunny prank, when she came at last to the book’s Bibliography. If nothing else caught her attention in the book one of the cited works certainly did, not just because of the heavy pencil line encircling it but also because of the surname of the author.

Sickert.

Madeline saw the name instantly, having read and written it so many times over the past several weeks, Walter Sickert, a suspect in the Jack the Ripper case, but this work was by an S. Sickert. Madeline had researched the life of Walter Sickert enough to know that he was a painter, not a writer, and that he had a brother named Bernard but no relatives that she knew of with any name beginning with S, plus this book had been published in the 1950’s, several years after Walter Sickert had died.

The book was called 'How I Became A Vampire'.

There was that word again, vampire, thought Madeline. It seemed to be cropping up in the most unlikely of places. Sergeant Thomas seems to think there’s a killer on the loose in Armitage who either thinks he’s a vampire or wants the world to think he’s a vampire, and then Ben spends most of this morning trying to convince me that Professor Mason of all people is a vampire. Madeline truly didn’t know what to make of it all but she felt she might get some answers, perhaps, from this absurdly titled book, if it still existed.

Jotting down the bibliographical entry, Madeline put the folklore book back on its shelf and walked over to the nearest library reference computer. Unfortunately, neither the title of the book nor the author came up on the system so Madeline decided to track down a librarian, just to be sure. She found one stacking shelves just around the corner.

‘Excuse me,’ she said politely.

‘How can I help you?’ asked the librarian, whose nametag said Rebecca.

‘Can you tell me if the library stocks this book?’ Madeline handed the piece of paper with the reference on it to the young librarian, who looked at it for a second or two.

‘Hmm, the name isn’t familiar. Have you checked it on the system?’

‘Yes,’ nodded Madeline. ‘I didn’t get anything for the title or the author.’

‘Let me just check my computer, I’ll know for sure then.’

‘Thank you,’ smiled Madeline. Rebecca returned the smile and walked over to the help desk and sat down in front of her computer. She checked the reference that Madeline had given her and entered the information on to her computer, while Madeline stood patiently in front of the desk.

‘I’m sorry, I’m not finding it either,’ said Rebecca. ‘Is it important?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Madeline, realising that she really didn’t. ‘It could be.’ Rebecca looked at Madeline for a moment before continuing.

‘Well, Armitage doesn’t have too many bookshops, so if it’s important you could always check them out.’

‘Thank you,’ said Madeline.

‘You’re welcome,’ said Rebecca.

Madeline decided that while she was still in the mood to entertain what she deemed pure flights of fancy she would head into Armitage and see if she could track down this book. Getting into the lift she asked herself what she expected to find in this book, if she could even find it, and her internal quarrel would have no doubt continued had she not virtually ran into Mike Newman when the lift doors opened.

‘Oh, Mike, I’m sorry,’ she said, smiling weakly.

‘That’s okay,’ said Mike, stepping back from the lift and allowing the doors to close.

‘How are you?’ asked Madeline, who could not help but still see the bruising on Mike’s face.

‘I’m fine thanks,’ replied Mike. ‘What are you up to?’

‘I’m just off into town.’

‘Alone?’

‘Well…’ began Madeline.

‘You know it’s not safe,’ said Mike concernedly. ‘How about I come with you?’

‘I wouldn’t want to put you out,’ said Madeline. ‘Besides, don’t you have class?’

‘Nope, I was just on my way to the third floor to check my e-mail, but that can wait. Shall we?’ Mike extended his arm, causing Madeline to giggle slightly.

‘Okay,’ she said, taking his arm. Madeline didn’t feel comfortable telling Mike exactly what she was heading into town for so she came up with a quick story that she was shopping for a relative who collected obscure books and that seemed to work. They tried the large chain bookstore first but were unsuccessful, as they were at the next store, and the next. Feeling a little silly for coming all this way on what was rapidly turning out to be a wild goose chase, Madeline walked in silence until Mike stopped outside a small shop in one of the side streets of Armitage.

‘Do you mind if we stop in here so I can pick up some comic books?’ asked Mike, jerking his thumb towards the door of a place called Shelob’s Lair. Madeline surveyed the place and wondered why she had never seen it before, but when she inspected the window displays she realised that unless she was heavily into comic books, Dungeons & Dragons or Lord Of The Rings she would have no need to ever shop there. Thinking her search had been a total waste she shrugged and followed Mike into the store.

Allowing her eyes to grow accustomed to the gloom of the shop interior, Madeline was greeted with shelves of comics, memorabilia, collectibles, figurines and trading cards. A stocky young man in a Firefly T-shirt stood behind a counter and nodded a greeting at Mike as he approached.

‘’Sup dude?’ said the man. ‘Woah, what happened to you?’

‘We got mugged the other night,’ said Mike.

‘Dude, that’s harsh. You okay?’

‘Yeah I’m alright, a little sore but I’ll live.’

‘Cool. So, who’s your lady friend?’

‘Madeline, this is Zeb. Zeb, Madeline.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Zeb,’ said Madeline, extending her hand.

‘Likewise,’ said Zeb, smiling.

‘Are they in yet?’ asked Mike eagerly.

‘Just got a fresh batch in this morning,’ said Zeb, grinning.. ‘Of course I kept one back for you, my man.’

‘Thanks Zeb, you’re the best.’

‘True.’ Zeb reached under the counter and pulled out a packaged comic book that he handed reverently to Mike. He then turned his attention to Madeline. ‘So, what brings you out my way?’

‘Oh, I’m just with Mike,’ said Madeline.

‘Yeah well I was expecting a visit from the esteemed Mister Newman here, but I don’t recall seeing you around before.’

‘We were looking for a book, for a present,’ said Mike, as he slipped his new comic book into a plastic bag.

‘Well, why not go to the Barnes and Noble the other side of town? This neighbourhood’s more for the collector than the casual shopper.’

‘We tried everywhere,’ said Mike, not realising Madeline really didn’t want to reveal her reasons for hunting high and low for a book. ‘But Madeline’s cousin’s really into obscure books, apparently.’

‘Is that a fact?’ said Zeb, raising an eyebrow.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Madeline.

‘Well then you’ve come to the right place after all,’ said Zeb triumphantly as he walked back from the counter to a curtain in the very corner of his shop. ‘Because if I ain’t got it, it don’t exist, capishe?’ Pulling back the curtain, Zeb revealed a room that Madeline could clearly see was full of books. She looked at the proprietor, who stood to the side of the door and gestured with his hand for her to enter.

‘Thank you Zeb,’ said Madeline as she came around the counter. ‘I really appreciate this.’

‘No problem,’ smiled Zeb. ‘Any friend of Mike’s is cool with me.’ Madeline entered the room and was instantly hit by the smell of dust and paper; a smell undeniably linked to large deposits of old books. She fished the bibliography reference out of her pocket and began scouring the shelves in the vain hope that Zeb may have actually picked up the book she was looking for in his travels.

‘Bingo,’ said Madeline with a grin, as she pulled out a dusty tome and gave it a quick wipe.

‘You find what you’re looking for?’ asked Zeb, poking his head round the curtain.

‘Yes, thank you,’ smiled Madeline. She noticed an old armchair sitting in the corner of the room and nodded towards it. ‘You don’t mind if I…?’

‘Help yourself,’ said Zeb, pulling the curtain closed to give Madeline some privacy. ‘Mike and I’ll be out front when you’re done.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Madeline let her bag fall from her shoulder and she placed it next to the armchair before sinking down into the comfortable, worn fabric. Looking at the book it seemed almost strange the trouble she had gone to just to get her hands on a copy, and now it was finally here in front of her it felt a little anticlimactic. Nevertheless, she had worked hard to find this book so she was determined to find out what was so special about it.

So she began to read.