When All Must End

Chapter 5

The streets were dank and empty, for on this night a cold rain appeared from the north of the city. Inside the flat of 221 ½, a dim light shined, matching the atmosphere outside. The clock on the mantel chimed the tenth hour as Basil sat in his red chair, almost in a daze as he stared off into the burning flames of the fireplace. His appearance was dishevelled as his white shirt was wrinkled and unbuttoned to where most of his chest was showing, a blood red waistcoat unbuttoned as well, and black trousers. His hair was messier than usual and his eyes almost a pale green instead a bright jade. Once more, almost out of habit now, the engagement ring he still had was clenched in his hands. It seemed that everything he wanted, everything he hoped for was slowly crashing down on him. He felt numb for he knew what was soon to come in only several hours’ time. Since he had been out, his beloved Paula’s well-being had diminish even further. Though he wished to deny it, he knew the truth. She would be gone, out of his life forever.

At the moment, Dr. Dawson was upstairs attending to the poor mouse for Basil certainly did not have the strength to do so. All he could do was remain where he sat and lose himself in the agonizing moment. It was also not long ago that his prediction in regards to Emily Heitzenrater was proven correct. Inspector Vole had returned with such anguish on his worn face to report that she was found dead on her bed. None of the nurses were at their station and no one suspected a lone individual who claimed to be a long lost friend of Miss Heitzenrater as it was probably he who entered the room and left with nothing but a mutilated corpse behind him.

Could no one hear her screams, Basil thought when Vole described the scene to him. Blood was splattered on the crisp white sheets and the walls around her. She must have been in pain, so someone must have heard her. Unless…

“It almost seemed that there were invisible chains keeping me still; as if I was under some kind of spell,” he remembered her saying. Perhaps it was…

“’I suspect your vampire theory to be correct’,” recited Basil, for these were the very words Vole had said to him before he departed Baker Street. “’This is only the beginning’” That was what was written in the girl’s blood across one of the walls.

“The beginning of what…?” he questioned without even realizing it.

“Basil,” a familiar voice called out, breaking the detective out of his train of thought. Looking away from the fire to where the voice came from, he saw his trusted friend standing only inches away from the chair.

“How is she?” Basil inquired, quickly rising from his seat.

“She…,” Dawson sighed, “she’s barely holding on,” he announced dejectedly. “I’ll wager she only has a few hours.” Looking down, he saw the jewellery box still gripped in Basil’s hand.  At first Basil wondered why his expression had changed so drastically, but when he too followed his gaze, he panicked as he quickly put the ring away.

“You never gave it to her?” he asked, his voice with heartache.

“I was planning on proposing to her a week after I got the ring, but when she fell ill…” Basil groaned, mentally beating himself. “I should have done so sooner.”

“Basil, you didn’t know,” he tried to reassure him. “But I would have assumed you to have done so by now.”

“And believe me, there were times I wished I did, but the fear that she would reject me kept me away. God, what a fool I have become!”

“It’s not too late. There is still time to let her know.”

“Is there really any point in it now? I ask for her hand in marriage and even if she says yes, that chance will never come to be.”