The crude lightbulbs hanging from the basement ceiling buzzed and flickered as I assisted Doctor Winston dissect yet another goat. The smell was awful. A mixture of blood, bile, and stomach acids made for an unforgettable scent. The sights were no better. If you thought staring at an animal’s entrails ever got less disgusting, you would be mistaken.
“Hold this,” Doctor Winston demanded, plopping the creature’s liver into my ungloved hands.
I glanced at him every chance I got. I’m not sure why. It’s not as though there is anything on his face I could use in my investigation. I suppose it was nerves more than anything else. Watching him rip into this animal’s body put me on edge even more so than before. Sure, it was just a goat, but what’s to say it wouldn't soon be me? There was a twinkle in his eyes as he sliced through the animal’s pelt. Almost as if he gained satisfaction from the grisly process.
“Doctor Winston,” I said, still holding the purple mass of flesh between my fingers. His eyes slowly drifted from the carcass until they gazed firmly into mine. “Why exactly are we doing this?”
His look of morbid contentment fading, he let out a sigh. Then, crossing his arms, he answered, “How long have you been my apprentice, Mr. Taylor?”
Much too long.
“A little over a month now, good doctor.”
“And how many times have I asked you to keep your questions to yourself?”
Uh oh. His tone was changing. I’d best prepare for an intense verbal lashing.
“I’m sorry doctor. I promise not to ask again.”
Rather than explode, he stayed silent, his gaze now drifting about the room. Unclenching his jaw, he uncrossed his arms and let them hang freely at his side. I was not sure I knew what was happening and I wasn't sure I liked it.
“No, my young apprentice, don’t be sorry. In fact, I think it’s time to give you a more inclusive role in my research. He got up from his seat and began to rifle through a drawer. He mumbled and cursed while tossing out beakers and papers until he finally found what he was after. Blowing the dust from a leather-bound book, he handed it to me and said, “Go, read this front to back. When you’re done, return to me and we can begin the real work.”
His manic smile was now back in full force. Dropping the juicy goat liver onto the metal operating table, I took the book and headed for the door. “I’ll just finish this and get back to you then.”
“Yes, do that with utmost haste. Only when your mind has been properly conditioned can it handle the deep marvels of my work.”
After washing the goat juice from my hands, I made my way upstairs and changed out of my blood-soaked lab clothes. My closet was full of clothes that I can only imagine belonged to the previous apprentices. None of the myriad of options originated from my suitcase. I grabbed a thick sweater off a hanger and pulled my head through the neck opening. Ah, nice and warm.
Frost was forming against the glass of my bedroom window. A subtle reminder that winter was only weeks away. Flurries already swirled through the bitter air, dancing about as they finished their long journey from sky to earth. I looked over at the book Doctor Winston commanded I study. What I need to be doing is gathering as much evidence as possible, not enjoying a bedside read. Picking it off the shelf I had placed it on, I gave it a closer look. The cover was made of rough, untreated leather, reminding me of a journal I once saw in the British museum. It also gave off an odd odor, like it had been bathed in embalming fluid. The pages were yellowed and wrinkled, as tough it had been read through many times. Notes lined the margins and odd drawings cropped up in the corners.
Skimming through the first few pages, I decided to give it a further read. Not only was the content fascinating but much of what was being discussed corroborates exactly with Miss Diana’s claims about Mister Dupont. Pages one through twenty dealt with the complexities of the aging process as well as theories on mutation and cell division. The next few chapters delved into several experiments done using specific, animal-based proteins and cells. From there to the end of the tome were graphs, charts, and mixture specifications for creating what I can only assume was the potion Miss Diana had me ingest.
Before I realized the time, night had fallen. While I didn’t intend for it to eat up so much of the day, this information could prove very useful as supporting evidence. I put it in the bedside dresser drawer and headed downstairs. My stomach rumbled while I clomped down the stairs. I was so engrossed in the book I had forgotten to eat.
Doctor Winston was many things but a cook he was not. Fortunately, my mothers had passed on a good bit of experience to me by forcing me to assist her in making dinner when I was a lad. A baked potato along with a slab of goat meat made for a filling meal. While I ate, the doctor headed upstairs from the basement, animal matter plastered to his lab coat. By the time I finished eating he returned to the ground floor donned in his evening attire.
I watched him slip on his polished shoes and asked, “Going somewhere?”
He picked his favorite cane and gripped it firmly in his fingers. Flipping a hat onto his head, he replied, “Indeed. I have another meeting with Mister Dupont.”
“Will you be gone long?”
He looked back at me with an uncomfortable gaze. Somehow, in some way, it almost felt like he knew to be suspicious of me. Or perhaps his paranoia stemmed from the possibility that his previous apprentices asked him the exact same question before disappearing.
“Long enough,” he stated with a warning timber in his voice. “Did you read the book as I requested?”
“Indeed, I did. Was all that research done by you alone?”
He let out a scoff, nearly tipping over as he continued to battle getting his foot all the way into the shoe. “Not at all Mr. Taylor. It is the culmination of several brilliant minds working together for decades. My only wish is that you too will appreciate the significance of this work.”
The sound of horseshoes clacking against the stone entryway cut his speech short. Opening the door, he turned and uttered what I assume is a warning. “Keep your focus my brilliant apprentice. Progress should never be halted. Even if the means of attaining it are less than desirable.”
I peeked out the window as the carriage rolled way. Only once it was out of sight did I relax. Starting from the top floor, I began an in-depth inspection of every chest, drawer, closet, and cranny. I had only seen into Doctor Winston’s room once, and it was only in passing, but it seemed like a prime location for stashing secrets. With little effort, I picked the lock and turned it upside-down. Oddly enough, there was nothing of interest. Not a single correspondence, letter, note, or piece of paper giving any indication that shady dealings are taking place.
The broom closet and bathroom yielded similar results, so I moved downstairs. Besides pots and pans the kitchen was held nothing of value. Moving into the living space, I rummaged through the couch, the armchair, and the coffee tables.
Perhaps these places are all too obvious. I’ll bet the basement holds a bounty of evidence.
I turned on the lights that illuminated the creaky wooden stairs. While still in its biggening, I was amazed by how such a simple bulb can light up a room with the simple flick of a switch. There were three rooms in the sub level. The lab, the doctor’s secret room, and the scrap closet. I had already been into the closet many times and couldn’t recall anything unusual, so I started with the lab. There were so many jars to inspect, so many books to sort through, and the shelves, a never-ending array of shelves! After an hour of probing, I gave up and focused all my attention on Doctor Winston’s secret chamber. I started to pick the lock but was surprised to find the door was unlocked.
Hm, looks like the doctor forgot to secure the room before he left.
Once inside, I scoured through every display. Turning up nothing, I opened the secret bookshelf and found it to be completely cleared out. There was no cage, no messy floor, and no bones. It was almost like the doctor had anticipated this and cleaned house. Still, no matter how cautious he could be there must be something he left behind some clue as to what he had been doing. There was of course the shed with the monster suit, but that would only prove he'd been pranking the town and he could always just deny his involvement. No, what I needed was something concrete.
I closed the bookshelf and started to get far more granular. As I reinspected all the taxidermy displays, I found that some of them were hollow. Removing the heads, I turned them upside down and shook until a letter, along with a large wad of paper money, came tumbling out of one of the embalmed animals’ bodies. Leaning over, I picked up the letter and started to read its contents.
Doctor Winston, in response to your concerns regarding the marketing of the elixir, I have taken the liberty of disposing of several obstacles. Should the board of scientific discovery give you any more trouble in relation to the ethics of our endeavors, let me know, and I will deal with them in like manner. Additionally, I feel it would be prudent to increase the number of your nightly outings to keep attention away from their deaths. So long as the local law is under my hand and the townsfolk are preoccupies with monster stories, I doubt we will have much reason to fret. Also, I have noticed your apprentice getting close with Miss Fontaine. While I have no qualms about this, I do think you should be careful. Keep a tight rein on Mister Taylor and he won’t have to end up in the cemetery like the last.
Signed, Mr. Dupont.
A more condemning piece of literature I couldn’t have hoped for! Names, admissions, they may as well cuff themselves and call for a lawman. I tucked the note in my pocket and did my best to rearrange everything just the way it was. Doctor Winston would likely return at any moment, and I would like to do my best not to join his last assistant in the grave. In fact, this might be a good time to finish one of my inventions.
Pulling out a case from under my bed, I set up a miniature chemical lab. While out in the woods, I had noticed several plants of interest. One of these was Hemlock, a dangerous and deadly plant if consumed. Socrates, President Lincoln’s mother, even an old schoolmate of mine had all been victim to its potent poison. Using thick gloves, I handled the plant and grinded it to a paste. Then, placing it in an alembic, I boiled it until it produced a distilled, and highly concentrated liquid. On its own, this would be a deadly poison however I found that mixing it with a few other compounds produced a paralytic agent. I filled several small syringes and loaded them into a pressurized pistol of my own design. Rather than fire deadly metal, this would fire a morphine-like drug and render its victim motionless. I pray I won’t have use of it.
An hour later, Doctor Winston returned in a foul mood. He slammed objects around as he walked through the house, his booming voice piercing through the wooden walls.
“A threat!” he shouted while stomping up the stairs. “The man dares to threaten me!”
I turned to face the door and held a syringe of paralytic in my hand in case things escalated. The doctor didn’t enter my room, instead opening his own bedroom door. He muttered to himself as he threw a tantrum, the crashes and booms of furniture being kicked rattled the floorboards.
“It's my research! Mine!” he repeated incessantly.
Swinging his door open, he clomped back down the stairs and into the basement, his aggressive barbs eventually trailing out of earshot. The back door of the lab swung open and out the doctor walked, sprinting out into the forest in the direction of the hidden shack.
I suppose he is going to be out all night haunting the town again. Good, that gives me the chance to get some sleep.
I installed a lock on my door and propped a chair against the handle. Should he return in a rage, this will at the very least slow him down. I kept both my automatic pistol, as well as my paralysis gun, out atop the nightstand just in case.
I do hope your contacts arrive soon Miss Diana. I’m not sure how much longer it will be before the doctor’s mind completely snaps.
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