The Many Misadventures of Master Mystery: Murderous Mohrgs from the Moors

Previously

Research was slow going that night. But, Reginald mused, research was rarely wont to be done in haste. For Master Mystery, the act of researching was rarely each sure but more of the cleansing ritual that he happily partook in whenever he got the chance. Now that there were actual lives on the line, he could enjoy his research all the more, as the fax that he would discover could be used to help others, while also earning him a hefty profit.

Having retired to the Pink Swan just as the sun set, Reginald had ordered room service to his private suite and unloaded is a briefcase of books and scrolls, intent on discovering what exactly could be attacking these people in such a horrible manner. After all not many creatures of the night still roamed the streets of England in this day and age. 

Well… Not many creatures of supernatural means perhaps.

But as the night waned on, and the tallow burned low, Reginald found himself growing more and more frustrated! No matter what book he bruised or scroll he scoured he could not seem to find the answers he was seeking. It was if there had never been any records of attacks such as these before.

“Impossible!” Reginald hissed to himself, throwing a scroll over his head and onto his unkempt bed, “It has to be here somewhere! I brought every bestiary that I own, every lexicon I possess… so it must be here!”

Tearing into his knapsack he pulled three sealed scrolls quickly undoing the seals on the end of each one, before sliding out the aged paper into his waiting hands. Taking one scroll and pulling it aside from the other two which he calmly set on two a smooth wooden table, Reginald unfurled the scroll with a loud crack of extended paper. Eyes scanning down the parchment he heard the door to his suite open ever so slightly.

“Not now I’m busy, bring in the food later.” Reginald shouted over his shoulder as he moved closer to the window tilting the scroll he was holding so that he could read by the moonlight and the fat bottomed candle on beneath his grasp on the brittle paper.

Squinting to stare in to the ancient Greek which lay before him, Reginald scowled as he heard the door creak and groan as it obviously continued to open. Carefully rolling the scroll up, while making a mental note of where he was, Reginald turned towards the fool who had entered his room despite the warnings, a veritable cacophony of insults and diatribes sitting at the tip of his tongue.

At least until he saw the creature that stood before him.

Believed in crimson blood that still steamed in the chill of the night air, this fiendish creature loomed over Reginald on spidery limbs, with hands furling and clicking as gore crusted talons clack back and forth, as if the creature were bored. Dropping the scroll to the floor, cursing mildly in the back of his mind about the state the priceless antique would most likely be in after whatever came of this encounter, Reginald threw his hands forward, palms splayed out as he uttered a string of ancient syllables and words no mortal man should know, causing the very temperature in the room to begin to rise.

The creature, its head split down the middle to form a bisected cadaver with thick, thorny teeth overlapping the putrefied flesh, let loose a horrid spittle filled roar as it lunged from the doorway to the bed, moving on ungainly legs. Reginald continued his mutterings, holding on hand out towards the fell beast while the other had taken to holding an awkward position pinned to his own chest, as if holding a wine glass with but two fingers. Shouts of alarm rang from beneath the floorboards, signaling to Reginald that the local Bobbies had finally caught wind of the wholesale slaughter that he himself had somehow missed.

Perhaps he’d become too involved in research?

Thoughts of his own ill attention pushed aside, Reginald continued mumbling beneath his breath meeting his hands back and forth before him as the creature’s steadily advanced closer and closer. While obviously once human, this creature was no more man than beast, with no discernible head and a vast vertical slit from the creature’s groin up to its neck, a slit that opened in close to his breathing thick cool barbs hanging from behind the exposed flesh in a mockery of teeth. As it stumbled ever closer, it became evident that the transformation which created this monster had left the being with little to no sight and even less in the way of balance.

As the creature came within arm’s reach, probing fingers wriggling in the air like serpents, Reginald’s voice began to rise to match the volume of the creatures cries.

“Simmer sizzle sputter… Ragnarock Unleashed!” Reginald cried through gritted teeth, spreading his hands wide as he unleashed the collective energies within his body upon the monstrosity before him.

The creature lumbered ever closer, pushing through the sudden heat wave that had slammed into it, intent on reaching Reginald no matter the cost. The spells effect’s persevered though, with the air surrounding the monstrosity rising in temperature by the second, withering its desiccated skin and blistering its hide. What little patches of hair that remained on its skin were now set aflame.

The abomination’s body quivered and shook beneath the heat of the spell, great sections of skin and muscle sloughing off as the fat within began to bubble and boil. But the monstrosity persevered, now crawling on its hands and knees towards Reginald one skeletal hand raised high in swiping at the air as if trying to cut into Reginald with its dying breath.

That is, if it breathed.

Reginald cured his inattentiveness and ill-fortune as he sidestepped the smoldering dead, looking for any of his more capable tools of the mystic trade that he could use to dispatch his attacker with. The fire spell he’d used was one of the weakest in his arsenal, and he had little doubt that it would actually finish the monstrosity off. No, what Reginald needed was his walking stick, which had been leaning against the door before this idiot had tried to attack him.

Jumping over one of the creatures fumbling grips, Reginald quickly made it over to where his ivory-headed cane lay, halfway beneath his bed. Just as he made it into the doorway, the titanic form of Charles appeared in his doorway, his two friends obviously right behind him if the creaking of the wood were any indication.

“Oh good… well, what you see here gents is a being that needs a tad bit of muscle, if you catch my drift? Daft thing tried to come in and kill me while I was in the midst research. Almost had me too.”

“But… he told us he was here to help your investigation.” Charles said slowly. Looking over at the smoking cadaver struggling to its feet. “Gad’s Alive, what’d you do to ‘im?”

“He came in covered in blood! He’d obviously just attacked someone and was liable to do it again!” Reginald all but shouted, pointing a shaky finger at the smoldering figure as it finally righted itself.

“Well o’ course ‘es covered in blood. How else ya gonna feed a Vampire that’s been in the tosser?”

Reginald paused, the strange comment cutting through whatever comment had been ready at his lips. Turning to look the now shaking creature up and down, Reginald slowly began to recognize the signs of a Vampire on the creature, at least from the spots that weren’t charred or split apart with surgical equipment.

Reginald cleared his throat, eyes never leaving the wheezing form before him. “Did he… Did he specifically ask for me?”

Reginald spared a peek over his shoulder to see Charles nodding his fat head, his piggish eyes showing nothing but confusion. Reginald clapped his hands together before turning to Charles. “Well then, please tell the madam we’ll be needing a bath drawn, preferably with cool water, as well as a few orders of whatever she keeps on stock for her Vampiric guests.”

Charles merely stood there mutely, puzzled over the orders. He only began to move when the burning figure made a rasping noise, an attempt at speech. That got him and his boys lumbering back down the stairs.

Turning back to the Vampire, whose regenerative powers had granted it dull white orbs in its blackened skull, a skull that was slowly becoming more and more human by the minute as ropes of muscle wound up and down the blackened bone. “So… I apologize for my rather harsh actions here, and hope you won’t hold them against me while I’m trying to piece you back together. I think the process will take a bit longer than one could hope for, so if you must retire for the day, I’ll freely offer my room to and reserve another room for myself. I only offer this one because there are few windows.”

The Vampire merely gurgled in response, but for the first time in recent history, Reginald had no idea what the night would bring him.

This day had indeed been a bad one.