The Confession: Chapter 6
The woman in red is in the cellar with Romero. She is in the corner of the room. She is hunched over, crying. Or maybe gagging on something. We cannot see her face.
Romero approaches her as he did on the cliff. He still cannot see her face, she is turned away from him. Her hands are busy doing something or holding something. Romero keeps approaching.
He is a step away.
The woman in red still has not noticed him. Romero reaches out and taps her on the shoulder.
She turns to him with red eyes, her mouth full of blood. She is holding a half-eaten cat in her hands.
Romero recoils in fright and disgust.
She speaks to him, blood crawling down the sides of her mouth.
“Look at what he has turned me into. What he has done to me. Don’t let him do this to her. He will do the same to her. You can still save her. Help her, save her.”
“Save who?”
“Save her..”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“You will. You will understand.”
Now it is her turn to reach out to him. She sets the dead cat on the floor and reaches out with her bloody hands to Romero. But before she can touch him, the door to the cellar opens, light crashing into the cellar shining on her like a spotlight.
The woman in red hisses at the bright light.
A strong voice shouts at the woman in a foreign language. The woman in red climbs up the wall in fear, then disappears into the top corner of the room.
Romero opens his eyes. He is back in his bed, he turns and sees Westbury sitting next to him as usual, dressed stylishly in a tuxedo, playing chess against himself.
“I had another dream.”
Westbury is composed, calm. He does not answer, concentrating on his game. Romero turns to the corner where the woman in red was and is shocked by the sight. In the corner, is the half-eaten dead cat, his former pet, blood covering its body. It is a truly disgusting sight.
Romero is horrified. Westbury finally speaks.
“I will have Grace clean that up.”
“It was real? The ghost is real? She isn’t just in my dreams, my imagination?”
Westbury stops concentrating on his game and leans back in his chair. He turns serious, thoughtful even. The first time that Romero has seen him this way. He seems almost contemplative, wistful.
“I saw a ghost tonight as well.” Westbury is lost in memories.
As if by magic, Romero realizes what the woman in red was trying to tell him. He speaks a word without even realizing or controlling what he is saying. He speaks a name as though he is also recollecting past memories.
“Violetta.”
This name, this knowledge surprises Westbury. Now it is his turn to be surprised by the spells of the undead.
“How?”
“The ghost. She was warning me. She told me what you are going to do to her.”
“And what is that?”
“You are going to make her what you are.”
“Am I?”
“You are going to try.”
Westbury’s face changes, he turns serious and severe.
“Yes, I am. There are more parts to this curse than you can possibly imagine. I need her.”
“You don’t need her.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do. You’re a selfish monster.”
“I am not a monster. At least not the kind you think I am.”
Westbury stands up and takes a few steps away from Romero, his back to Romero.
“It has been over 200 years since we last saw each other.”
Westbury turns to see the reaction on Romero’s face. Now it’s Romero’s turn to be surprised.
“What, you don’t believe me? I thought you believed in the immortal soul. I have been waiting for her to return. Decade after decade, century after century, I have been waiting. She saved my life the last time. That was the second time I lost her amidst the rivers of time. The second time I held her lifeless body in my arms. I will not lose her again. I will not watch her die again.”
“Are you sure it’s the same...”
“Yes.” Westbury cuts Romero off. He is very confident in this assertion.
“Does she have any say in the matter of her fate.”
“She will see it the same way that I do. As she has before.”
“Will she?”
“She loves me as I love her.”
“And if you are mistaken.”
“I am not mistaken.”
“You say you are cursed, that you did not choose this life, yet you are willing to condemn her to the same fate.”
“I love her. She loves me. This has been proven over centuries of time.”
“All the more reason to spare her from this curse. To not condemn her as you have been condemned.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do understand.”
Romero gets up suddenly. Westbury is taken aback, unsure what Romero is going to do.
Romero crosses to the table and sits down in the chair in front of the chessboard. Westbury cautiously sits down across from Romero.
Romero starts arranging the pieces back to their original formations.
“You say you are a good player.”
“I am.”
Romero is still taking his time getting the white and black piece into their proper starting spots. He finishes with the white queen. The chessboard is set.
“What do I get if I win?” Romero asks.
“Oh, a bet.” Westbury is amused at this mortal’s presumptions. Amused and interested.
“Your freedom?” Westbury says.
“Not my freedom.”
Westbury is confused.
“Her freedom. As long as I hold out, you will not take her soul.”
Westbury contemplates the offer.
“And if I win you must let her go.”
“That would mean you would b trapped here forever whether you win or not.”
“I know.”
“You’re willing to give your life for hers.
“I must do what I can to save a soul, even if it costs me my life.”
Westbury is deep in thought. He did not expect this from the priest.
“And if I win?”
“Anything you want.”
“Absolution?”
“That is not mine to give.”
“Well, perhaps you can put in a good word for me.”
“I can try.”
Westbury is now lost in contemplation, travelling through time in his mind, over centuries of life and death, over centuries of love and loss. He reaches out his hand to Romero.
“I accept.”
They shake hands.
“Do you want to take the white pieces or the black?” The vampire asks the priest.
“I think we both know which side we are on.” The priest answers.
The white pieces are in front of Romero, the black pieces in front of Westbury.
“Very well. Let’s begin. It is your move.” Westbury says
Romero puts his hand on one of the white pawns and moves it forward.
The duel begins.