Scorpion's touch

Attack

~Time skip to noon the next day~

"So, Ethan, who's the lucky woman?" Ivy asked curiously. "What?" He spluttered. "How the hell did you work that out?"
"It's easy. You seem more joyful than usual, you've been smiling for the past hour even when we were discussing the brutal murders that have been happening lately and you keep staring into space with a far away look in your eyes. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out." She grinned before continuing "What's her name?" She asked.
"Brona."
"That means sadness in Gaelic does it not?"
"It does." Ethan confirmed.
"Is she proving herself worthy of her name?" Ivy asked.
"I'll find out tonight." Ethan smiled. "I'm taking her to the theatre."
"I hope it goes well for you." Ivy smiled again  just as Victor came into the room. "We've done the transplant. He is heavily sedated at the moment but he'll be coming round any moment now." Screams echoed from the basement. "That will be him awake then." Victor said before walking down the stairs to the basement with all of us in tow. "Has it worked?" Sir Malcom enquired. "I don't know." Victor answered. "I'm hungry. Starving." Fenton moaned. "Here." I said, cautiously rolling him an apple I had taken from the fruit bowl on the way out. "I don't want that you fucking devil whore!" Fenton screamed throwing the apple hard against the wall. "I want meat!"
"Get him something rare from the butchers." Ethan muttered. A loud mewling was heard and Sembene, Sir Malcom's associate entered the room with a kitten in his arms. With a crunch, he broke the kittens neck, tossing it's carcass to Fenton who ate it hungrily, tearing huge chunks of flesh out of the kittens back.

~Six hours later~
Ethan had left with Brona some time ago. Ivy and I were sitting at the kitchen table when without warning  a loud smashing noise came from upstairs. Ivy looked at me in horror before jumping up from her seat and dashing up the stairs. I followed her as fast as I could, Sir Malcom also in pursuit. As Ivy reached my room she threw open the door. The window was smashed and a few jagged bits of glass were left in the window pane.  A vampire was crouched on the floor and Fenton was cowering in the corner, whimpering under his breath. The vampire got up quickly and ran at us at top speed. Ivy kicked the vampire hard, sending him flying before the vampire crashed into the wall and got up again, running forwards once more. Sir Malcom shoved the vampire hard backwards, accidentally knocking Fenton in the process. Fenton's head smashed backwards onto the windowsill. "Mother..." he whispered, blood trickling out of the back of his head before he moved no more. The vampire smashed back out of the window and then, utter silence. Nobody moved a muscle. It was Ivy who broke the silence "He needs a proper burial." She said before gently lifting his body up and heading outside. We all followed in silence. I watched Ivy carefully in an attempt to fathom whatever it was that she was feeling but she kept her face a smooth, indestructible mask. As we reached the park Ivy pushed the gate open and led us inside. We circled the park for a little while before we got to some grass with a patch of flowers next to it. "Here." Ivy said simply before getting down on her hands and knees and beginning to dig a hole with her hands, scooping the earth out and making a little pile next to her. We all followed in suit and soon the hole was big enough to hold Fenton's body. We carefully lowered him into the grave before scattering the dirt back over the top. "Fenton." Ivy spoke. "We will never forget you. As long as I live every man, woman and child will know your story."
"I'm so sorry about the way I treated you, Fenton." Sir Malcom said.
"You didn't deserve this." I said quietly.
"Goodbye." Ivy whispered, plucking a single rose from the flower bed and laying it on the top of his makeshift grave before turning and leaving the park.

~The next evening~

I was sat in my room writing a letter. A letter to Mina "Mina, I have been writing to you ever since I recovered. At the start I wrote to you monthly, then weekly then daily. Soon I shall have no other occupation. The ending of one letter becoming the beginning of the next, an endless ribbon of words. I write in hope that you'll one day answer me and that everything will be like it was."