I am writing this from a jail cell.

The company isn’t too bad. There is a small mouse that I have heard scuttling inside the walls. I have named him Herbert.

It happened less than a night ago.

Now I am in love, I will be expected to take Raven out to see the world. She seems to like the Graveyard and the torture chamber, but I am worried that she might start to get bored. I needed to be more spontaneous. To let go of my old ways and shred my skin to be more modern. I needed to take her to see the world.

I asked Ergo how the horses were doing.

“Dead,” he said.

“All seventeen of them!” I gasped. He nodded. I had ordered him a new outfit for the housekeeping from the Amazon rainforest but they must have gotten the order wrong because he is now dressed as a French maid. It reminded me of my time in Paris during the renaissance, except not as attractive and with much hairier legs.

“Blast!” I screamed, my frustration bellowing through the halls, extinguishing the candles I had lit earlier. I bought new ones. They were much bigger and less likely to be defiled. However, I have been wrong before. “Well I demand that we purchase a new horse and carriage at once,” I began to pace along the chamber room, speaking clearly and concisely so Ergo could take notes as I let my mind ramble. “I want three black stallions, ney, four black stallions! I require a cart made of Canadian Redwood with a Coachman to steer. I will be in the back of the carriage with sweet Raven tending to her every need.” I turned to him. He was still dusting the cobwebs from the high corners of the ceiling. He was up a ladder, and the maid outfit he was wearing showed me an angle of him I had never seen before. “Are you listening!” I yelled, clambering up the wall to face him. “I am in love, dear Ergo, and I don’t feel like you are taking this very seriously at all.”

He continued to dust away, moving on to the bookshelf next.

“No horses. No carts.” I was perplexed. A world without horses?

“How do people get around?”

“Roads.”

“What does Greece have to with any of this!” He looked at me in his deadpan way.

“Motorcars.” I felt the penny drop.

“Ahh, the modern horse.” I smiled, but then confusion hit me once more. “What does a car eat?”

“Fuel from dead animals.” I felt sick. I drink blood and I seem to be the only sane one alive these days. Eyepads, Webs, fuelling machines with dead animals. The world was growing stranger by the day. Alas, I still fel the reveling of joy in my black heart.

“If I have a car, then will that show my dear Raven the extent of my fancy?” Again, Ergo nodded. He was a man with words. So wise. I lept from the wall and swung from the chandelier filled with joyous boyish glee. “Incredible! I shall purchase one at once!”

I raced to the top of the stairwell and pulled open my bedroom window. It was a full moon tonight, and the wolves were howling loudly. I changed myself into a swarm of bats took off over the streets of Cove Town.

The world below me was a bloodstream of bright lights and vibrant colours, like a midnight rainbow. Below me, I saw a young man walking alone next to a stunning vehicle, moving to a large house shrouded in darkness.

I landed carefully. To turn into a flight of bats is expensive on your body. If one doesn’t do it with care, then you could return to human form supporting a bat’s face or worse, their genitals.

“Behold before you,” I announced to the unsuspecting cattle. He flinched, then turned slowly. His face was covered with black fabric that showed only his eyes and mouth. I was cold after all. I dipped my hat and bowed to him. “It is I, Richard Wythenshawe. Do not be afraid, for I shall not hurt you providing you do as I request.”

The cattle eyed me. He was mid-twenties, his jacket was pitch black leather so fresh I could still smell the ground the cow had eaten the day of its death, and his hands were gloved whilst holding a crowbar.

“The hell do you want?” He said sharply. I must say I was taken back by the manner of his less than courteous tone, but then again, I was imposing on his night on his property. I remained polite.

“I wish to help you.” I gestured to the vehicle. “Your motorcar,” I said, “M-U-S-T-A-N-G. I adore it.”

“Listen, pal,” he said, stepping towards me with a somewhat hostile tone. “Get out of here or there’s gonna be trouble.” I laughed. The fool must misunderstand me.

“I wish to purchase your vehicle from you. I have money. I am happy to pay. But don’t try to barter with me, for you shall not win.” The masked man’s stature slackened somewhat.

“You want too…” He went to finish the sentence, and when I produced a small coin purse of gold, his eyes lit up. He took the pouch from my hand and felt the weight of it.

“Is that enough sir?” I asked. He nodded.

“Plenty.” I was overcome with joy. The fool, I thought. I would have gone much higher than that. “Just let me get you the keys,” he said. He moved to the house, and I sat atop of the front of the beast and marvelled at the street lights that illuminated the darkness in buzzing yellows and whites. My lungs filled with crisp air. Breathing wasn’t something I needed to do, but it was pleasant all the same.

A smash of glass, and I watched the cattle clamber through the window. I thought this to be strange, but it made sense that if he didn’t have the keys for the motorcar, then he may not have his house keys either.

A short time later, he returned with a bag filled with electrics, jewellery, and trinkets and as promised, my keys. I thanked him gratefully. He was truly an honest and upstanding man. He made his way through the streets, no doubt to find a replacement window service.

I fumbled with the small metallic device and pressed something which made the Mustang light up with amber flashing lights. I slipped into the driving seat, ready to put the petal to the mantal, or however the saying went. I saw Ergo watching something on the Eyepad the other night. I didn’t get much of a view but I heard some of the dialogue.

I knew I had to ‘throttle’ the vehicle to get it to start. It seemed a little strange I will admit, but I gripped the large circular wheel in front of me and I began to wring its neck. The vehicle didn’t start. I pressed the devices on the ground with both feet, then my hands, then my knees whilst still biting and throttling the wheel. I noticed a lever to my side and I depressed it to which the vehicle began to draw forward.

“Success!” I shouted! I had done it! “Take me home!” I yelled, sitting back triumphantly and folding my arms behind my head. The vehicle did as I requested. It set off slowly, then followed the bending curve of the road down the street.

Alarm struck me. The vehicle was not being obedient and did not follow the desired direction. I throttled the wheel some more, really digging my claws in. The homes began to pass me with greater speed.

Now, dear reader, I am not a man to show fear but in that moment, I felt I was a little out of my depth.

I pulled on the wheel so hard that I dislodged it. I saw the Mustang’s blue and red veins coming from out of its body.

“I’ve killed it!” I shrieked. The houses buzzed past quicker and quicker until I slammed into a brick wall. A huge bag of air smacked me in the face and I sat there a moment, the vehicle flashing brightly and wailing in pain. I saw light come on in the darkened windows all around me and the voices of terrified cattle emerged from their doors.

It reminded me of the time I was caught drinking a drunkard in a small Irish town when I was caught hunting and they chased me out of town with pitchforks and torches. This was like that, and the thought of relocating was not something I had in my plan.

In the distance, the street flashed blues and reds and bigger mustangs with bright lights raced towards me. As cattle piled out of the machines ordering me to step out into the cold, I began to wonder if the man in the face mask didn’t actually live at that house after all.