Strange Tales #33 Part 3 Featuring  Written by Bob Gansler

YEAR THREE DEC

The vampire Louis Belski thought about his task – to kill the Werewolf Jack Russell.  The supernatural organization known as DOA (the Department of Occult Armaments) had rescued him from Hell for him to fulfill this mission.  Belski contemplated for a moment what he would do once the wolfman was destroyed.  Perhaps he could begin to truly enjoy the fruits of vampiric existence, a pleasure that was cut much too short.

The computer that was in front of him indicated that it was now logged on to the Internet.  Computers had certainly come a long way since he last walked the Earth.  They were so small, and they were exceedingly fast.  Belski was amazed by the power that was contained with the machinery.  He decided that he was going to like life in the 1990’s.

Belski’s thoughts were interrupted by the return of menial office worker Jan Parkson.  Belski had met her earlier in the evening while strolling in Hyde Park.  He had hoped to catch a quick bite and refresh himself.  However, he managed to control himself and only drew a small portion of her blood.  It was enough to make her very susceptible to his commands.  He had enticed to her tell about this new technological age he found himself in.  He discovered that Parkson possessed some rather modest skills with computers.  From what she told him, he had begun to formulate a plan to draw the Werewolf to him.

Parkson placed a number of show business magazines in front of Belski.  He wanted to learn all about this new era that he found himself in.  Parkson had told him that he could find all of the information that he wanted on the Web, as she called it.  However, Belski liked the feel of a good old-fashioned trade magazine.  There would be time for reading later, though.  Now was the time for plotting.

Belski rose from his seat, and with a dramatic wave of his hand, indicated that Parkson was to sit down in front of the computer.  The hypnotized young lady did as she was commanded, and then stared blankly into the screen.

It seemed logical enough to assume that Jack Russell was somewhere across the ocean in America.  Belski had not relished the thought of returning to his homeland.  The logistics involved in transporting a vampire across the ocean would be daunting.  Moving coffins was not the airline industry’s forte.  He was grateful that DOA had supplied him with some dirt from his grave; otherwise, he would not have survived a single day.

Belski had learned a great deal during his stay in Hell.  Although no one would talk to him directly while he wandered as an ‘unclean’ in Hell, he had been able to overhear many conversations.  Most were about trivial matters, but others brought him very important knowledge.  He had learned more about being a vampire down there than he ever had up here.   He had also learned about the Darkhold.

The Darkhold was the key to his plan.  He had learned that the Darkhold contained the spell that created the vampire race long ago on landlocked Atlantis.  The Book of Sins also contained the Montesi Formula that could destroy all vampires.  It had been a busy day in Hell the day that Dr. Strange had cast the Formula.  The demonic legions had been hard pressed to keep up with all of the new vampiric arrivals.

Belski had also discovered that the Darkhold had played a role in Jack Russell’s history.  The book had cursed his family with the disease of lycanthropy – werewolfism.  For years Jack had sought a cure for his condition, but he never found one.  Belski had discovered that not all of the pages of the dark tome were bound between the covers that Dr. Strange kept in his mansion.  There were other pages that circulated around world.  For a while, a group of Redeemers worked to recover those pages.

“What if,” Belski said aloud, “one of those pages contained a cure for werewolves?  Wouldn’t that be something Jack Russell might enjoy?”

Parkson said nothing in reply.  Belski’s mental hold on her was quite strong.  She simply waited for his next command.  Any sense of free will had been stripped from her by Belski’s vampiric powers.  Belski directed her to search the realms of cyberspace for an email address for Jack Russell.  Parkson had explained to him the entire concept.  He found the notion quite interesting.  It was not something that he would have imagined in his  previous existence.

After a few minutes of effort, Parkson reported that there were quite a few people with the name ‘Jack Russell’.  Belski looked at the screen and saw how far he had to scroll down to see the entire list.  Belski thought for a moment.  Parkson had told him that people tended to come up with clever email addresses.  He told her, “Look for something with ‘wolf’ in it.”

It only took Parkson a few moments to come up with a ‘bigbadwolf@aol.com’ address for a Jack Russell.  Now he would be able to send his message, and the lure contained within it.

Even though he did not have a copy of any part of the Darkhold, even though he had never seen it, it would draw Russell to him.  His plan was deliciously simple.  He would offer Russell something that he was sure that Russell wanted.  It did not matter that Belski did not actually have it.  The thought that Belski had a piece of the Darkhold in his possession should attract Russell into a confrontation.

He pondered where he should set the meeting place.  There were so many historic places in this city.  Any one of them would be apropos for a titanic confrontation.  Parliament?  Big Ben?  Tower Bridge?  St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey were out for obvious reasons?  Leicester Square?  Trafalgar Square?  None of them seemed quite right for a star of his stature.  He needed a place that would be fitting for the giant of screen and theater that he held himself to be.

“A theater?” Belski thought.  “Yes, a theater.  But not any theater, but one that was built to honor the greatest playwright.  Just as Shakespeare presented his plays there, I shall present my performance of revenge at the new Globe Theatre.”

He put his hand on Parkson’s shoulder.  “Send this message to Jack Russell.  Tell him ‘The vampire from Hollywood has a cure for the werewolf.  Come to the Globe Theatre in London in two days to get it.”

Parkson dutifully typed in the message and the clicked the ‘send’ button.  She turned to Belski for further instructions.

Belski smiled, his vampiric canines showing through his wide lips.  “Now we dine, or at least I do.”  He pressed his lips to her neck and began to feed.

Jack Russell returned to his modest apartment from a late night run through Central Park.  It felt good to be able to go out at night and not have to worry about transforming into a savage monster.  The years of self-discovery had allowed him to tame the beast that was inside of him.  Granted, the Werewolf still was not a cuddly animal cut out for Sesame Street, but neither was it the primal animal that it had been for a long time.  Now, Jack could transform at will. He could even resist the pull of the full moon; he could even remain human at those times, although it was rather uncomfortable.  He had been able to turn the Werewolf into a definite force for good.  His time with the Defenders had clearly shown that the Werewolf could serve the world.

After Taking off his shirt, Jack flipped on his computer.  While it booted up, he would catch a quick shower.  As he doused the sweat from his body, the computer automatically checked his email box.  When Jack emerged from the shower, still drying his hair, he looked at the contents of his ‘in box.’  There were a few spam messages, some quick notes from some acquaintances around the world, but the one that caught his attention was the message with the subject “Attention: Werewolf.”

Jack opened that message first and sped through its words.  It took a few moments to register what it was about.  It took a few more for him to make a mental connection regarding the vampire.  “Oh yeah,” he thought.  “He was that Dracula-lookalike.  What was his name?   Belski, with a girlfriend, Lisa or something.  Raymond Coker and I fought against them on some studio stage.  Raymond told me that we had destroyed them.”  Jack wondered if the power of the Darkhold had something to do with it.  Perhaps that was how Belski had escaped destruction.  “Why is he after me now, after all these years?” he thought.  He figured that it had to be a trap, but he also knew he would have to check it out.  Jack knew that the Darkhold held some powerful magic.  He also knew that most of the pages were with Dr. Strange, but there still were some out there.  Maybe one often did have a cure for lycanthropy, hopefully one that did not require the death of another werewolf to activate it.  {See Werewolf By Night #19}

One quick call and Jack had a plane ticket to London for tomorrow.  He packed a bag and then settled in for the night.  Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

It had been a long flight from Boston to London’s Heathrow Airport.  The train ride from Heathrow to downtown London was not a short one either.  Jack had noted that the Underground Train had actually spent a major portion of the trip above the surface.  It had taken him some time to get his bearings once he arrived at Liverpool Station.  Another short trip on the Red Line brought him to the King’s Cross Station.  He knew that he would be able to find a cheap hotel there.

Jack waited until nightfall before heading out for the Glove Theatre.  If this really was Belski, Jack knew that the vampire could not meet him there during the day - vampires only come out at night.  It suited Jack just fine; his wolfen strengthen would be at its strongest in the evening hours as well.  He assumed that this was a trap, but he had to take the chance.  As much as Jack had come to accept the werewolf part of his life, he still yearned for the chance to be a normal human.  Perhaps if he ever did find a cure, he might not take it.  Still, he wanted to have the choice.

The new Globe Theatre stood along the western banks of the River Thames, not far from the London and Tower Bridges.  This was not the one at which Shakespeare’s masterpieces had premiered.  That Globe had burned down many years ago, as had many of its successors.  The venue was closed this evening; there were no performances scheduled.  It made the theater the perfect stage for this event.  A battle (which Jack figured this would turn into) between a vampire and a werewolf was not for a viewing public.

A quick check of all the doors left Jack with no easy means of entrance.  All of them were locked.  The sun had been down for about an hour now.  Jack was certain that Belski was inside.  The question of what else was inside pressed on Jack’s mind.  Had Belski managed to come back from the dead with Liza Pyne, or did he have other vampires with him?  Did Belski really have a cure in the form of a page from the Darkhold?

Jack decided that the only way to find out was to enter.  He let the change come over him.  His form shifted, muscles transformed, hair grew, and wolfen features sprung out.  Soon he was no longer a man, but a werewolf.  Still, he was a werewolf unlike most.  He had his mental faculties in his lupine form.

A quick leap put him ten feet up one of the walls.  His claws dug in and he smoothly climbed to the roof.  Once he reached the top, he looked for a rooftop entrance.  Fortunately, there was one.  Jack figured that this door probably did not have an alarm, while the others might.  Jack took firm hold of the door.  Flexing his wolfen muscles, he tore the door from its hinges.  Jack discarded the door and headed down the stairs.

He found himself on the upper balcony.  Looking down, he could see that the stage lights were all turned on.  A solitary figure, draped in a black cape, sat upon a wooden chair - Louis Belski.  In his hands, Belski held a small book from which he was reading. “To be or not to be, that is the question.”  He looked up and noted Jack’s arrival.  “I much prefer to be undead than dead.”

Jack dropped to the stage floor.  Belski put the book down and rose from his seat.  “Act One, Scene One.  The hero and the villain meet.”

“Which role did you cast yourself into?” Jack growled.  “The villain, I presume.”

Belski took a dramatic bow.  “Sadly, yes.  The limited perceptions of the living tend to classify morality into such absolute terms.”  He unfastened his cape, and it slowly fell to the floor.  “However, the undead are beyond such petty limitations.  We exist to feed and we feed to exist.  There is no morality or immorality to vampirism.”

“That’s a bunch of hogwash,” Jack snarled.  “You’re a predator, an animal.”

“This coming from a werewolf?” Belski smirked.  “Hypocrisy, I dare say?”

Jack curled his arms as he stalked towards Belski.  “I didn’t ask to be a werewolf.  Which brings up the question, where is the page from the with the cure for lycanthropy?”

“Oh, that little thing.”  Belski smiled mischievously.  “It was a lure, a product of my own imagination.  If there is such a cure, I don’t have it.  I just thought the possibility might entice you.”

“Rrrrrr.”  Jack had expected as much, but he had hoped slightly that there might have been a chance.  “So, I’m here.  Why?”

Belski began to take slow steps backwards.  “Certain parties effected my escape from perdition.  In recompense, I had to perform a deed for them.”

“Killing me?”

“Ah, you grasp the plot of this little drama quite readily.”  Belski bared his fangs and brought his talon-like hands up.

Jack rushed at Belski, but the vampire was too quick and stepped aside.   Jack turned to face Belski again.  As Jack leapt, Belski transformed to mist.  Jack passed harmlessly through the cloud that was Belski.

“Missed again,” Belski taunted.

Jack raked the mist ineffectively with his claws.  “Maybe, but you can’t hurt me while you’re misty.”

Belski suddenly materialized, his hand clutching Jack’s throat.  “True, but now I have you.”  He tightened his grip  around Jack’s neck.  “How long can a werewolf go without air, I wonder.  We vampires require no oxygen whatsoever.”

Jack struggled to free himself.  He grabbed Belski’s arm and try to pry himself loose.  Despite Jack’s wolfen strength, Belski was too strong.

Belski now had his other hand at Jack’s throat.  “This was too easy.  I’m ashamed that you were able to destroy me last time.”

It was pointless to try to outmsucle Belski.  The vampire’s strength was simply too much.  Jack had to out-think him.  Saliva was drooling down from Jack’s mouth.  He decided to put it to good use.  He summoned as much strength as he could and spat into Belski’s face.

“My face!” Belski cried.  He let go of Jack and brought his hands to his face.  “You’ll ruin my makeup, you stupid cur.”

Jack was now hunched on all fours.  “This isn’t a performance, Belski.  You’re not playing a vampire, you are a vampire.”

Straightening out his outfit, Belski took a deep breath.  “Quite right.  I am the vampire who will destroy you.  It is now time for the final act.” Belski shifted to bat-form and flew at Jack.  The werewolf was ready for the attack and nabbed Belski by the wing.  He could hear bones pop in the bat’s spindly arm.  Jack tossed the bat away.  As he hit the floor, Belski resumed his human shape.  His right arm hung limply at his side, and his face showed definite signs of pain.

Grabbing the chair with his good arm, Belski hurled it at Jack.  The chair caught Jack in the chest and splintered upon impact.  “Take that, you filthy animal!”

Jack looked down at the pieces of wood below him.  He looked up, and smiled in a way that only a werewolf could.  “That wasn’t too smart, Belski.”  He scooped up a shard of wood in his left hand and rushed at Belski.  He was upon him before the vampire could move.  Jack grabbed Belski’s right arm, sending pain through the vampire’s body.  That pain was nothing compared to that which he inflicted with his left hand; he drove the wooden shard straight through Belski’s heart.

“Ah,” Belski sputtered.  “This play has turned into a tragedy.”  His head slumped and his body dissolved into dust.

Jack kicked at the dust. “You’ll always be on stage now.”

A small metallic orb hovering amongst the stage lights transmitted the sinister voice of Belial, leader of DOA.  “You have beaten Belski again, Jack Russell.  Congratulations.  We had hoped that he might destroy you, but obviously he was an ineffectual vampire, in undeath if not on-screen.”

“Who are you?” Jack howled to the unseen orb.  “What do you want?”

“We are DOA.  We want your destruction, but we are offering you a prize in the event that you can defeat us.  You see, Jack Russell, we truly have the page from the Darkhold that contains a cure for your condition.  You can find us at the British Museum in two days time.  Come after dark, when the museum is closed, and perhaps we’ll supply you with the page.”

“I’ll be there,” Jack growled.  He figured that it was another trap, but it was a chance.  Beside, anybody that had the power to bring a vampire back from destruction was a menace that needed to be eliminated.  “And I’m just the werewolf to do it,” Jack thought.