Chapter 5
Meanwhile at the Bloodstone Estate, England, 1971
“Elsa, can you tell me why we hunt monsters?”
“Because they hurt people?”
“Wrong. Let me ask you a different question. Elsa, can you tell me what a monster is?”
Elsa thought for a moment, before deciding on her answer.
“Monsters are abominations, impure, and evil. They are either crafted from dark magic or the result of mutilating the natural world through science. Worse than that, they cause chaos and bloodshed wherever they go. It is in a monster's nature to cause harm.”
Ulysses clapped his hands in applause.
“Well done Elsa, I couldn’t have said it better myself!”
Elsa’s neutral expression broke into a nervous smile.
“But that definition does leave out one putrid fact about those wretched things, do you know what that is Elsa?”
She shook her head.
“Their persistence. No matter how many monsters we kill, hundreds, thousands more are bred and born each year. We have been at war with their kind since the beginning of time and yet we are no closer to achieving a purer world than when we started. Why do you think that is?”
Elsa bit her lip.
“Are–are they like rabbits?” She offered slightly. Her father stifled a laugh, amused at the suggestion of a child.
“Despite some of their breeding habits, no. They are not like rabbits. Their real source of strength is hope. They think if they can live among us, hide among us, be like us. But Elsa, tell me again, what are monsters first and foremost?”
“Abominations?”
“Yes, and?”
“Impure?”
“Exactly! No matter how much they try to pretend to be human it is their very nature that denies them from succeeding and yet they persist. They persist because they hope they can be better, this makes them stronger, and that is why they survive. Do you know why I am telling you this Elsa?”
She shook her head once more.
“Because a monster without hope is a creature without strength. I want you to remember that."
“Yes, father.”
“Come with me.”
He took her down a long corridor adorned with paintings. Paintings that detailed the monster-hunting exploits of the Bloodstone line. From behemoths to leviathans, from Cthulhu to werewolves, to vampires and man-bats. The Bloodstones had slain them all. And Elsa would learn to do the same. She hoped she would be the best at it someday. That way she could protect people who couldn't protect themselves.
The hallway opened up into an impressive chamber topped with a glass dome. Walls of mounted trophies surrounded her, some monsters she recognized, such as the elusive yeti of the Himalayas, or the Man-bats of Romania, but others, such as what appeared to be an amphibious bipedal water creature eluded her. But in this room, what really caught her eye was the man at the center of it. He was leaning against the wall of a cage shaped like that of a bird’s quarters. There was nothing frightening about the man, in fact, he seemed more frightened of them than they were of him. Sickly and weak, rasping for breath, clothes in tatters all around him. What could have happened to him to bring him to such a state? Elsa looked to her father for answers.
“We found him in Louisiana.” He began. “Swamp country in America. He owned a corner cafe for twenty years. The locals all knew him by name. He gave back to the community. Started a pay-it-forward campaign for the homeless. They trusted this man... and why wouldn't they? He's a true stand-up citizen. But do you know why he is here?”
Elsa knew the answer. Nothing entered this room unless it was a hunter or the hunted.
“He’s a monster.”
“A rougarou to be precise. A curse akin to that of lycanthropy. Werewolves. Rougarous are a much weaker form of course, but still deadly. They kill livestock, maim pets, and crave human blood above all else.”
“You lie. I don’t kill anything.” The man said weakly, in an accent somewhat French sounding but with a hint of some other influence unknown to Elsa. “I’m vegan for God’s sake. I can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“And yet you still crave it don’t you?” Ulysses smirked. “You can’t fight what you are. Your blood was tainted, and with it, your soul.”
“Pike twa.” The man spat on the floor at Ulysses' feet. “You are tainting the soul of this petite fille more than my curse ever could.”
Ulysses turned away in disgust.
“We’ll see about that. Elsa, have I ever shown you how the Bloodstone works?”
“No, father.”
“I should have long since! It’s our namesake for God’s sake.” He knelt down to her level and pulled the red gemstone out of its pouch. She could see it glow softly from its center. “Do you know what it does?”
“It’s a weapon against monsters. It strengthens the hunter but weakens the monster. A transfer of power in some ways.”
“It can do much more than that.” He walked towards the edge of the cage and pointed the stone at the man–monster, Elsa corrected herself. His eyes looked so sad. “One day Elsa, you will memorise these words and many more like them, and know the true power of the Bloodstone. I can teach you all you need to know about monster iconography and the craft of hunting but this–” He pointed to the stone. “–is your true heritage.”
As her father began the incantation, the room seemed to darken around them. An innate effect of the Bloodstone’s power. To drain the surrounding area’s energy into the stone and lend it to the user. But something was different this time. Rather than lend the energy to the user, this incantation seemed to focus the energy on the man in front of them. And the effects were monstrous.
Elsa had only read about monster transformations in her studies, at the time she thought it almost fascinating. The depths of pain these monsters go through regularly, forcefully, or in some cases intentionally, seemed unimaginable in scope and made her curious as to how they processed such agony. But seeing it in front of her, all she wanted to do was look away. She was ashamed to say she tried, but her father had quickly caught her. He grabbed her arm and forced her to look forwards. Her shoulder ached with his grip.
“I need you to see Elsa, see just how much these monsters aren’t like us.”
Elsa watched. She watched his bones crack, his jaw lengthen, his eyes go bloodshot, and his mouth spit up chunks of blood. All the while an agonizing howl filled her eardrums. The man’s claws dug at his own face, and his hands turned from human to animal. His face, half man half beast dripping with blood would stay with her in her dreams for always.
Eventually, the glow of the stone lessened and the lights came back on. The monster caved in on itself, whimpering and placing itself in the furthest corner of the cage from them. Every time it caught her eye, it looked away in shame. She had to stop herself from feeling bad for it. Luckily her grimace of guilt could also be surmised as a grimace of disgust.
"What are you thinking Elsa?"
“I–I didn’t know the Bloodstone could do that.”
“Trigger a transformation? Easy. You just need to know the right words."
Her father walked to the room's entrance and grabbed a sword from the armour stand, before quickly walking past her once more toward the cage. Towards the monster.
"What are you doing?" She asked shakily.
"This demonstration is nearly done. I have only one part left, to slay this beast. Don't worry, he won't fight back, you remember what I told you a monster without hope–"
"Is a monster without strength but–" She took a scared breath. "But you said it yourself he was a stand-up citizen. He hasn't done anything wrong–"
"He is impure Elsa or have you not heard a word of my lesson? Abominations have no place in this world."
"I know, I know, I was just thinking maybe we could learn from it or maybe experiment find a cure, if we just explain it to him–"
"There is no cure Elsa. And we know everything there is to know about these monsters. If your ever going to slay monsters you need to know that the endpoint for these creatures is always the same–tragedy." He sighed. "If it's any consolation, think of it as a mercy killing. The man inside this monster will be free after this. Would you rather he live like this forever? Forced to live every day confining his urges until one day he finally snaps?"
"I suppose not."
"Then watch and learn."
Her father entered the cage, walked towards the monstrous wolf-man, and swung his sword. Her father was right. This monster had no hope and no fight left in it. The fight was as simple as cutting grass with a scythe.
It wasn't a fight. Elsa realized. It was an execution.
“Come along Elsa.” Her father said, wiping the blood from his sword with his handkerchief. “I have more to teach you.”
"How was your training today Elsa?"
Elsa shrugged. It was just her and her mom tonight. After all that training her father didn't even have the time to eat dinner as a family. He had to attend to his paperwork.
"It can't have been that bad." Her mother tried to console her.
But it was. Elsa thought. How can I be a monster hunter if that's my job? To kill innocents?
"He showed me the Bloodstone." She stirred the food around her plate.
"And?"
Elsa hesitated, before fully unleashing her emotions onto her mother.
"He used it to transform a man into a beast–a rougarou. He wasn't even doing anything!” Elsa said a bit too loudly before calming down. “It didn't even fight back…I tried to ask father if we could keep him for observation, try and find a cure, but he told me that we know everything there is to know about monsters and if I ever want to become a hunter, I had to understand that."
"Oh…" Her mom realized. "A rougarou you said?"
Elsa nodded.
"And your father killed it anyways?"
She nodded some more. Her mother gave a sigh.
"What do you know about rougarous? About their curse."
"They are a lesser form of werewolf. Forced to transform nightly rather than on a full moon. Weaker but still vicious.”
“And the curse? How long does it last?”
“Isn’t it the same as werewolves? Forever?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Elsa said sheepishly. “So…it’s not permanent?”
“The curse of the rougarou only lasts for 101 days. Then it can be transferred out of the person via a bite like a werewolf.”
“So that man, had we waited, found someone willing…”
“Would have been fine, yes, but the curse…" Her mother sighed. "It still would have passed on to someone else, and cause them pain, and others pain, and so on and so on–”
“But if we kept the inflicted caged then they could be released after a while! They wouldn’t have to hurt anyone. So why would father not try and help?”
“Your father sees what he wants to see Elsa.” Her mother told her. “And he has many blindspots, he compensates for what he can’t see through the sheer force of will and the power he holds. To him, it's better that the curse ends with the death of a man instead of with another victim. Accidents happen, and sooner or later someone would have gotten hurt.”
“But if we kept them contained–I mean 101 days…that’s not even half a year!”
Her mother’s pained expression turned to a soft smile. Her daughter’s passion was admirable.
“You see things differently than your father, that’s what I love most about you Elsa, you see things as they actually are rather than what they are supposed to be. Monster hunters exist for a reason. To protect people from monsters who would hurt them. To protect innocents from the curses of dark magic and science. What many people don’t realize is that many monsters, especially those afflicted with curses, are just as much a victim of the curse as those they hurt. Elsa…one day you are going to inherit the Bloodstone and all the responsibility that comes with it. Your father is cunning and resourceful, he’s slain thousands of monsters and saved thousands more people from the violence they cause. But…he only sees the world in black and white. Pure and impure. Monster and hunter. To him, that man wasn’t human. And never would be. Even after the curse had been transferred, one could say he would be responsible for whatever acts the next person who inherits it would commit and so on in the chain of inheritance. But one day you’ll wield the same power as your father and you will know how to use it far more effectively. Because you will use it for the right reasons. And protect who needs to be protected. That is the lesson you should be taking away today.”
“What lesson?”
Elsa’s mother took her hand into her own, looking into her daughter’s eyes.
“That things are never as simple as they appear to be. Monsters can be people, and people can be monsters. It is what we do with the power that is given to us that defines us. Promise me you'll remember this.”
“I promise, mother.”
“Good.” She let go of Elsa. “Now clean up, and off to bed. You’ve got more training in the morning. Your father wants you up before sunrise to help you practice the basics of nocturnal tracking.”
“Yes, mother.”
Elsa got up and obeyed dutifully, folding up her napkin and pushing in her chair before she left the table. Today had been strange. Never before had she felt so strongly about what both her mother and her father had taught her. Her father was right of course, monsters were abominations, affronts to the natural order, but her mother…could she be right about them also being victims? About being people? She couldn’t imagine going to a restaurant and seeing an amphibious creature behind the counter, or a vampire drinking blood out of a thermos cup, but what if…
“Elsa!” Her mother’s call broke her out of her thoughts. “One last thing, don’t mention to your father what I said to you tonight. I don’t he’d be…pleased.”
“Yes, mother.”
Elsa smiled, before turning away once more. She made her way to her room, walking through the stone corridor lit up by torches, up the gothic stairway shrouded by moonlight, before entering the pine wood arch that made up the doorway of her room, the outside of it hung a wreath of garlic, the doorknob engraved with a cross. She locked it behind her, closing it with the heavy metal latch gilded with silver.
She all but collapsed into her bed. It was one of those nights where as soon as you closed your eyes, sleep greeted you like an old friend. But before she could greet it in return, she gave one last look out her window through the beams of metal, at the full moon which took up her sky. No howling tonight. Wolves would never come this close to the manor, not in a million years.
That night, Elsa dreamed of gods and monsters. And a world very much akin to a place where flowers reminded swamp monsters of their funny nicknames and where wolf-men had charming smiles that complimented their kind eyes. She fell asleep smiling.
Her mother was right, one day the Bloodstone would be hers, and she knew exactly what she would do with it.
The End.