The existence of the written memoirs of the (presumed) late Lawrence Talbot, The Wolfman, were offered to an shocked world in Part One and Part Two of this series. Now, more monstrous memories come to the surface in this third installment of...

By Geoffrey Miller

PART THREE

"When I regained consciousness next morning I realized there was only one place I could go. I returned to Visaria to seek the help of Inspector Holz, the only other person I knew (besides Miliza) who believed I was a werewolf. I arrived during the Festival of the New Wine and once again heard someone singing that ‘life is short - but death is long.’

Holz was willing to help. During the cycle of the full moon he agreed to lock me away so I couldn’t kill. He chained me to a wall in the cellar of his isolated seaside cottage on the outskirts of Visaria, not far from the ruins of Dr. Edelmann’s burned out mansion. Of course, he told me this couldn’t be any kind of permanent arrangement. Then he told me about Rita and Karl Hussmann. Karl Hussmann’s grandfather had been the Burgermeister of Reigelburg. He was murdered by a man who called himself Baron Latos but who was apparently Count Dracula. The murder was done at the behest of a renegade medical adventurer named Dr. Gustav Niemann. Dracula had also abducted Rita Hussmann, placing her in a trance. Dracula was eventually destroyed and Rita saved. But after the incident she developed unusual psychic powers. Since both the Hussmanns and I had a link to Niemann, Holz suggested I travel to Reigelburg to see them. Besides, her unusual powers might be able to help me.

The once high-spirited Rita Hussmann was now reserved in manner, wearing a long black dress and no makeup, her hair pulled back tightly, like a ballet dancer. She knew everything about me, beginning with my return from America, to that very moment. She told me that though others knew the truth of my situation, only one could be trusted without question never to betray me. "That is the Romany woman the fools once called ‘the old witch’."

"Maleva! Is she still alive?"

"Yes."

"But . . . do you know where she is?"

"I don’t. But once . . . when . . . when you were in the forest, trapped like an animal . . . she appeared and transformed you, at least for that night. Isn’t that so?"

I nodded.

"Then she too has the same gift, the same kind of power I have. I can try to . . . how can I put it? . . . to summon her for you; that’s all I can do. Go back to Visaria and wait."

"And you . . . can you help me?"

She shook her head. " I wouldn’t know how, even if I could. In any case, you cannot trust even me. You must do as I say; go back to Visaria and wait."

"All right. Is . . . is there anything I can do for you?"

Then she questioned me about Baron Latos. Was it true that I saw him at Dr. Edelmann’s? "Yes." "What happened to him?. . . I mean, to his remains - after Edelmann destroyed him?" "I don’t know. Doctor Edelmann’s mansion was burned to the ground. I guess his coffin and remains were destroyed by the fire, along with the Frankenstein Monster."

She shook her head. "He wasn’t destroyed".

"What do you mean?"

"I wouldn’t possess these powers if he had been destroyed. In some manner, he still exists. I’ll become the person I was before only if and when he truly ceases to be. I used to be an uncomplicated, fun-loving American girl, Mr. Talbot. Look at me now. I never smile. I’m cold to the touch, even in a warm room. The only thing that sustains me is the love of my husband who’s stood by me through all of this."

I stared at her, feeling genuinely sorry. "You and I are exactly alike", I said. "Believe me, Mrs. Hussmann, you don’t know how sorry I am." Just then I wondered about Miliza. She too was victimized by this Baron Latos. Did she have the same power as Rita Hussmann and had the same thing happened to her?

I returned to Visaria, to the cellar where Holz let me hide out. A few days later I was staring out a window as the sun went down behind the hills. I saw a small horse drawn cart come over the top of the hill and approach the house. I narrowed my eyes and wiped the dust off the window with my hand. It was Maleva! There was someone with her - a man in his mid-thirties, tall and regal, like the people in those oil portraits of my ancestors that used to hang all over Talbot castle. It was Dr. Mannering. I was overjoyed to see Maleva but what in God’s name was she doing with Him? You can imagine how great it felt to see her, Gwen. As great as when I saw you this afternoon. after all, she was the closest thing I had to a parent. Then I stared at Mannering. "You keep turning up like a bad penny. I can’t say I’m glad to see you."

"I wouldn’t expect you to be."

I looked at Maleva. "How did you find me?"

"A dream, my son. I saw you here, in Visaria, the last place we were together. There were crows on the ground and I knew you wanted me to come."

I looked at Mannering. "And what’s he doing with you? Surely you didn’t have a dream, Doctor. And you certainly didn’t find me by following newspaper stories, like you did last time."

"Talbot, I know how you must feel - "

"You know?"

"Will you please let me explain?"

"You’re the only person I can trust.", I told Maleva.

"What he will tell you is the truth. For your sake, listen to him. Please."

I pointed at the house. "Let’s go inside."

"There’s no apology I can make, Mr. Talbot, that can undo the harm I’ve done you. You wanted to die and I betrayed you. But now I’m in a position to help you, truly help you, be rid of your . . . condition. I know you’re not insane, that you really are a lycanthrope; I saw you transform before my eyes. Ironically, my betrayal turns out to be a blessing. You’re still alive."

Maleva said,"You no longer wish to die, do you, my son?"

"No."

"Over a decade ago", Mannering went on excitedly, "an English botanist named Wilfred Glendon went to Tibet searching for a flower called the Mariphasa. No one knew if it actually existed. It was supposed to bloom only by moonlight. Glendon found it. But what he didn’t know was that the Mariphasa is the only known antidote for lycanthropy. The few plants that grew wildly were guarded by a man named Yogami who was himself a lycanthrope."

"You can use the word werewolf, doctor. I give you permission. The way you keep saying lycanthrope makes you sound like my father."

"All right - werewolf. When Glendon tried to take the Mariphasa, Yogami attacked and bit him. Glendon drove him off and eventually took the plants back to England. He could scarcely get them to grow. Then he began to experience the transformation during the cycle of the full moon. He too killed when he became a werewolf. There simply weren’t enough plants to save him. And eventually, he was killed."

"I know that story too, doctor. You’re not telling me I have to go to Tibet?"

"Not quite that far. Only to London."

"Not Cardiff?"

"I’m no longer at Queen’s Hospital. I now have my own research institute in London. For the past three years, ever since my last encounter with you and the Frankenstein creature, I’ve devoted myself obsessively to the very thing I used to believe was utter rubbish - the study of such things as lycanthropy, vampirism and, like Frankenstein, the origins of life. Baroness Frankenstein, through her immense wealth, underwrites the institute." He frowned. "Everyone I knew in the medical community in Wales thinks I’ve lost my mind. They won’t speak with me anymore. Anyway, when Thomas Forsythe, formerly the head of Scotland Yard, told me Glendon’s story I contacted his widow, who now lives in America. She gladly gave me all his effects - his research papers, equipment . . . and seeds from the Mariphasa. To make a long story short, I learned how to cultivate the Mariphasa; I can grow it as if it were no more than a common weed. One night I cut my hand and a few drops of blood fell on the plant. The next night there were twelve new buds. So I fed it a pint of whole blood and it grew nearly half a foot within a few days. Blood and moonlight, Talbot. That’s the secret." He stood close to me. "Do you still have that red and black pentagram-shaped scar on your chest?"

I undid the the third button of my dark brown shirt and pulled it open for Mannering and Maleva to see.

"One drop of the essence of the Maripahasa on that scar will prevent you from becoming a lyca- " Mannering smiled. "A werewolf."

I looked at Maleva. "He speaks the truth, my son."

"It’s not a cure", he said, "but it’s the next best thing. It will do until I can effect a cure. And I promise you not to stop until I do."

I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the ground. "You’ll forgive my suspicion, Doctor." I looked at him. "Time after time people said they would help me. Time after time they failed - for whatever reason."

"Including me. No, I can’t blame you for not trusting me. But - "

"Shall we take a walk?", Maleva said to me.

I looked at her quizzically. She held out her hand. I took it and we went to the cliff overlooking the sea.

"Look at me, my son. I am old. I do not have many days left on this earth. I can try to protect you, yes, as I did that night in the forest when you were caught in the trap. But I cannot protect you for the rest of your life. Since you no longer wish to die, your only hope for a final release is through the doctors."

"Scientists", I said contemptuously.

"Their curiosity can be either their ruin or their gift to the world. I do not wish to die knowing you still carry the curse my son Bela put upon you. You must trust Dr. Mannering."

I stared at her intently for a moment. "If you want me to return with him to London . . . then I will. But you have to come with me. I can’t be there alone. And you . . . all these years I thought you were dead." Tears welled up in my eyes. "You’ve . . . been like a mother to me. You’ve been kinder and more understanding than my real mother ever was . . . or my father."

"We will go together . . . Larry."

I remember smiling. "That’s the first time you’ve called me anything other than ‘my son’."

She took my hand and we walked slowly back to the house. "Dr. Mannering", she said, "is not a bad man. Three years ago, after that madman blew up the dam, the villagers wanted to hang me. He and the Baroness rescued me from the jail. I have stayed in contact with both of them ever since. When I had the dream telling me where you were, I sent him a cable and we both came as soon as possible."

"All right", I told Mannering. "I’ll go back with you. We both will."

Mannering closed his eyes in gratitude, then opened them and smiled. He held his hand out to me. " I’ll make it up to you. I promise."

I didn’t want to but I shook his hand anyway.

"We must leave as quickly as possible", Maleva said. " The moon will soon be full."

"There’s something you should know", I said to Mannering. "Have you heard about Dr. Edelmann?"

"I know who he was. An unorthodox researcher, like myself. He died when his home burned down, didn’t he?"

"There’s much more to it than that. He operated on me, using some kind of tropical plant that can soften bone - "

"Fileria Mimosa?"

"I think so."

"And?"

"For a year I was . . . normal. And then it just . . . it just came back."

Mannering was stunned. "So, Edelmann learned how to use it. I tried but - - - where are the records of his experiments?"

"They must’ve burned along with his house."

"Have you gone back there?"

"No."

"Then we need to go back and look", Mannering said. "We have to."

"It’s not far from here."

"The moon will soon be full", Maleva repeated.

"This could be the answer", Mannering said to her. "It’s possible that these two plants, Mariphasa and Fileria, could hold the key to a permanent cure. But I must have Edelmann’s records - if they still exist."

"We can be there and back before it’s dark", I assured Maleva.

Dr. Edelmann’s house had not been completely destroyed. Several rooms had been untouched by the fire. The ruins were surrounded by tall blackened weeds and leafless burned trees. Nothing had grown back and no birds sang. It was obvious no one ever came out here. We searched as quickly yet as carefully as possible.

"If you tell me what you’re looking for I might be able to help you."

Mannering and I looked toward the door. Standing there was a man with a sallow, pock marked face, sickly complexion and the watery eyes of an alcoholic. Greasy black hair stuck out from under a Tyrolean hat. His clothes were shabby. He spoke very slowly, as if his vocal chords were too heavy for his throat.

"Well", he said. "Mr. Talbot, isn’t it? So you’ve come back. Forget something, did you?"

I stared at the man. "Steinmuhl."

"Herr Steinmuhl, to you."

Mannering looked at me.

"Herr Steinmuhl’s brother, Siegfried, used to work for Dr. Edelmann."

"Dr. Edelmann murdered my brother, you mean. That entitles me to a claim on this property . . . which is now mine. You gentlemen are in my house."

"Listen, my good man", Mannering started to say.

"I am not a good man", Steinmuhl replied. "What do you want?"

"The records of Dr. Edelmann’s experiments", I said.

"How much?"

"Do you have them?"

"How much?", Steinmuhl insisted again.

Mannering removed the wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and took out all the paper money in it. There was a lot of it "We can pay you handsomely."

Steinmuhl stood up straight when he saw how much there was.

"There’s five thousand marks here", Mannering said. "If you have the records, this is yours - all of it. Do you have them?"

Steinmuhl wet his lips with his purple tongue. "I have a lot more than that." He turned and walked out of the room, saying "Come with me."

We went to the burned out part of the house, to what I knew had been Dr. Edelmann’s laboratory. Steinmuhl lifted a trap door in the floor and motioned for us to follow. We descended into the dungeon that the doctor had used to grow the Fileria plants because of its heat and humidity. Burning torches were fastened to the walls, their flames casting long, wavy shadows . Water leaked through the cracks. When we reached the bottom of the staircase Steinmuhl took a torch and walked on toward the cave where, I vividly remembered, I had almost killed Dr. Edelmann. We could hear the ocean crashing against the rocks outside. Steinmuhl was facing us when we entered the cave. He had stuck the torch into the the damp, sandy ground, next to a large metal box, wrapped in oil cloths. He removed the cloths and opened the box. In it were numerous black and brown leather bound volumes the size of ledgers.

"There", he growled. "Dr. Edelmann’s records. He always kept them down here, nice and hidden away. Siegfried told me. Go ahead and look if you think I’m lying."

"That’s the doctor’s handwriting", I told Mannering. "I recognize it."

Mannering took his time, slowly perusing pages from each volume. He looked at me and nodded. "No one could have faked this. It"s exactly what we want."

Steinmuhl rubbed his hands together. "I have something else you might be interested in." He pulled the torch out of the sand and led us farther into the cave. We rounded a bend and Steinmuhl’s torch illuminated an open, shiny black casket with a crest on its side. Inside the crest was a capital D in gothic script and inside the casket was a skeleton lying on rust colored earth, its arms crossed at the chest.

The first thing I thought of was Rita Hussmann. She’d been right; there was something of Dracula still in this world, still possessing her.

Twenty feet farther on Steinmuhl again thrust the torch into the ground, next to something covered by many dirty blankets. It was about seven feet long with black trousers and large heavy black boots protruding from the bottom because the blankets were not long enough to cover the entire figure. Steinmuhl pulled the blankets away while Mannering and I came and stood next to it.

"My God", Mannering whispered.

It was an unconscious man, dressed in black, clothes, hair and skin partially burned. The complexion, where it had not been singed, was an eerie greenish gray , its head flat with electrodes protruding from both sides of the neck.

"How long has he been down here?", I asked.

"Since the fire. He must’ve found the trap door and made his way down here. But he’s been like this since I found him."

I looked at Mannering whose eyes were wide open like a child on Christmas morning, mesmerized by the sight of the Monster.

"Doctor."

Mannering jerked his head around. When he caught my eye he looked away immediately, embarrassed.

"Are you interested?", Steinmuhl asked Mannering theatrically.

"No", I said sharply. "We’re not. Destroy these . . . things. Burn them, then dig a hole fifty feet deep and bury the ashes."

Mannering said nothing.

I came up to him, took the wallet from his inside pocket and removed the five thousand marks. Mannering then suddenly yanked the money from my hand and held it out to Steinmuhl. "We only want Edelmann’s records. Here, take it."

Steinmuhl shrugged and said nonchalantly, "If you don’t want them . . . " He gestured at the coffin and the Monster. ". . . there’s someone else who does." He grabbed the money from Mannering’s hand and in the same instant pulled a knife from his waistband and brandished it at us. "Now get out!" He waved the knife menacingly. "And don’t come back!"

I rushed into the Visaria police station and barged into Inspector Holz’ office. I told him that Steinmuhl had the remains of Dracula and the Monster. I practically begged Holz to take as many constables as possible to the dungeon of the Edelmann ruins and destroy them both, by fire. "I’m leaving at once for London. I . . . I can’t thank you enough. Just do one last thing for me; go to Schonheim and find Miliza Morrell. Tell her what happened to me . . . and that I’ll be back soon - for good. For good. And tell her that if strange things have been happening to her to go to Reigelburg and talk to Rita Hussmann. Will you do that?"

"Of course", Holz said.

I nodded at him. "Now we’d both better go."

* * *

ADDENDUM (Author unknown):

Night. A beautiful dark haired woman, accompanied by two large men, arrive at the Edelmann ruins in a freight wagon drawn by two horses. Steinmuhl, holding a torch, is waiting for them.

"Dr. Mornay?", he asks.

"Yes."

"Did you bring the money?"

"Certainly."

He thrusts out his free hand.

Mornay says, "I demand to see them first."

Steinmuhl leads her and the two men down to the cave. While she is inspecting Dracula and the Monster, Steinmuhl stands close to her and says softly, "Such a beautiful woman - involved in such ugly work."

She looks at him with contempt. "No uglier than you, my friend. Did you really think that medical adventurers only wore pants?" She motions to the two men. "Take them up to the wagon, quickly." She gives Steinmuhl the money and he greedily begins counting.

There’s a gunshot; the bullet rips through Steinmuhl’s chest, driving him backward. The money flutters out of his hand. He looks at Mornay, wide-eyed, disbelieving. She shoots him again and he topples over backward. Mornay puts the pistol back in her overcoat pocket, picks up the money and says, "By the time they find you, my dead, ugly friend, I shall be in America. Auf wiedersehen."

Holz and five of his constables reach the cave only to find the dead Steinmuhl and tracks where the Monster and Dracula’s coffin had been dragged out of the cave.

Holz follows the drag marks to where Dracula’s coffin had rested, then to the outline of the Monster’s body in the sandy ground. "Is there no end to this?."

ABOARD THE SS VARNA, BOUND FOR FLORIDA:

Dr. Sandra Mornay stands on the gently rolling boat deck, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon. She then nods at the deck hand standing nearby who motions for her to follow. They descend into the blackness of the cargo hold. He gives her one of his two lamps and she gives him money. He climbs the steep metal stairs, back to the deck. When his footsteps can no longer be heard she pries open a very large wooden crate labeled MCDOUGAL’S HOUSE OF HORRORS - LA MIRADA, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. The crate is filled with excelsior. She scoops some out to reveal a man’s face with a dead white complexion, tinged with blue. His lips are an unnatural red. His hair is jet black and gleams in the lamplight like the surface of the sea on a starry night. He opens his eyes and moves them thoughtfully from side to side.

"We are still at sea."

"Yes", she replies. "The sun has set."

"I was at sea once before", he says. "On a ship called the Demeter."

He starts to rise but Mornay puts a hand firmly on his chest. He glances at her with more than a little surprise, then smiles coldly and lies back in the crate.

Mornay says, "My dear Count, you killed everyone aboard the Demeter and then a storm blew the so-called ‘Ghost Ship’ into Whitby Harbor. A very melodramatic entry into Victorian England. But this ship is bound for America and I suggest a prosaic arrival with everyone alive."

"I need blood..."

Mornay takes a wine bottle from her overcoat pocket. "This is whole blood. Human blood."

Count Dracula looks aghast. "You expect me to drink blood...from a bottle?"

"In America they drink soda pop and beer from bottles. I suggest you become accustomed to the practice, as we shall both be there for a long while."

Count Dracula hesitates, then inclines his head to one side and says, "Place it here, next to me."

She places the bottle on the excelsior, near where his right hand was. Her face is close to his and she says, "You must also curb your appetite for women. It clouds your judgment and causes you to make fatal errors. I am speaking specifically of Rita Hussmann and Miliza Morrell."

"Dr. Mornay, do not presume--"

"Oh, but I do presume. I have no intention of allowing either your desires or your arrogance to destroy us. We both need this escape to the new world. In America you will have unlimited feeding and I will have the freedom to carry on my experiments. In exchange for your considerable help, I will protect the earth upon which you lie. If you keep that uppermost in your mind we shall both prosper."

"The new world", Dracula says, smiling. He looks at her. "Where is the Monster?"

"Nearby." Mornay nods. "In two days we shall be in Florida. Focus on that." She lifts the top of the crate, preparing to nail it back into place.

"One moment", Dracula says. His right hand comes up through the excelsior and grasps the bottle of blood. He takes the cork out of the top and drinks deeply and greedily from it. Trickles of blood ooze from both sides of his mouth. When the bottle is drained he looks miserably unhappy and says to her, "There. are you satisfied?"

"Eminently."

Then she stuffs the excelsior back over his face, places the top on, hammers the nails back in and places a crucifix on top of the crate.

Once again, this portion of a much-longer manuscript comes to an er...dead end. But Larry Talbot is still alive and kicking and it seems that he isn't the only ghoul around. Stay tuned for more selections from "The Pentagram Papers!"

Article copyright (c) Geoffrey Miller. Talbot JPG courtesy of The Monster Bash Page and "E-Gor" Chastain.

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