#gregor goth

VIII. Tears of Kohl

New Hades, Fortress Rock, New Hampshire, 1886

The sky was dark by the time Theresa had hastily left Daniel’s estate.  She rode through the woods of New Hades on her Morgan, Fritz, scanning the tree trunks and other potential hiding places, paranoid of an ambush.  Theresa took a deep breath to calm herself.  “If you’re scared, don’t be here in the first place,” she thought, berating herself over her usual ambivalence.

II. Withering Sister

Fortress Rock, New Hampshire, 1885

Leon’s younger sister, Lucetta, had been suffering from an unusual virus and had been bedridden because of it.  Over the last month, she has been treated by Dr. Gregor Goth.  Though Dr. Goth was eccentric and occasionally theatrical, he was easily one of the kinder physicians in Fortress Rock. Unfortunately, Gregor’s pleasantries were not going to cure, or even provide relief for, Lucetta.

“Mr. Stefanski, as I said earlier, I am afraid there is nothing that can be done to cure your sister of this disease.  And at this point she seems well beyond treatment.”  Leon fought his despair with skepticism, “And what exactly brought you to that conclusion?”  “Her heart has beaten exactly three times within the last minute.  The only thing that has awakened her thus far is the sensation of choking on her own blood. The fact that she has survived this long astounds me.”  Leon removed a clean handkerchief from his pocket and leaned over the bed to wipe the excess blood from his sister’s face from her most recent coughing fit.  He shot Gregor an irritated glare.  “So that’s it?”

Gregor sighed, “I am embarrassed to admit that I am perplexed.  Your sister does not have tuberculosis.  Her symptoms are oddly similar to a recent outbreak that took place in Hungary.  People had been consuming a concoction believed to cause immortality.  Most of the people have become bedridden before exhibiting erratic behavior and insatiable hunger.”

Leon became more agitated, “My sister is not an inebriate!”

“I apologize for misleading you.  The drug had since been outlawed in most countries, including this one.  I just have never seen anything like this here.”  “How did you even find out about this shit?”  “My wife has been studying it.  She believes that the alchemy behind this concoction might have some merit to elongating one’s life.”

Gregor’s wife, a woman whom Leon had been informed was addicted to her own drugs, was apparently the most brilliant apothecary in Fortress Rock.  “So your only explanation is that Lucetta either succumbing to an illegal drug… or you do not know.”  “Mr. Stefanski, I have searched the sky, I have searched the ocean!”  Leon was growing increasingly impatient, “Have you searched up your own ass?”   “Yes, I even searched there, Mr. Stefanski…. We do not have sufficient details, and I truly apologize for besmirching Lucetta’s character.  She has always been kind.”  Leon stared down at the bed quilt, averting his eyes from his dying sister.  “If you were in my place, would you end her suffering?”

Gregor stared at Leon, processing what he had subtly suggested, “I am not obligated to tell you my personal feelings on this matter.  The outbreak in Hungary was handled with nothing short of violence.  But as a person who does not condone violating the law by committing acts of murder, I would strongly advise against ‘ending her suffering.’  Good day!”

IX. Rabid Animals

Stein Bridge, Fortress Rock, New Hampshire, 1886

Claire had spent the night uncomfortably propped up against the door of the master bedroom, deeply concerned about Olivia’s mental state.  The following morning, she nearly fell backwards as Olivia had opened the bedroom door behind her.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Claire.  I did not realize that you were down there,” Olivia apologized.  Claire looked up to see Olivia wearing her normal elegant attire; her appearance was sterner than her words.  “It is good to see that you are wearing clothes like an actual person,” Claire replied irritably from the lack of sleep.

Olivia shrunk where she stood, “I did not mean it,” she muttered, having mentally blocked out parts of the prior day, “What have I done?”  “You introduced yourself to your sister-in-law.  You were standing with your dairy farm and garden on display.”  “Please, the euphemisms make it worse.”  “I’ll admit you looked quite ethereal.”  “Cease!”  “After you put your robe on, you started screaming at the poor woman, accusing her of trying to manipulate you.  You compared her to Daniel, which was especially cruel.”

Olivia covered her face with her hand, mortified, “I beg you, do not ever let anyone see me like that again.”   “At least you seem to be yourself today,” Claire perked up.  Olivia remained somber, “I am sorry you both had to endure that side of me.”  “I tried my best to make her see you differently, Madame.  It’s up to you if you want to change her perspective.”  Olivia sighed, “Can you teach me how to make that chocolate torte?  I need something that can survive a trip downtown.”  “I would be delighted.”

Manor Valdemar, Fortress Rock, New Hampshire,

That evening, Olivia traveled to the Goths’ house by horse and carriage.  She approached the front door with the torte that she and (mostly) Claire had baked.  Olivia knocked on the door, feeling more bashful than usual.  She was met by Theresa’s husband, Gregor.  He appeared gaunt and sickly, his eyes shining a spectrally teal hue.  He was decrepit enough to pass as Theresa’s father.  “Good evening.  Is Theresa home?”

Without warning, Gregor grabbed Olivia’s shoulders and wept, causing her to drop the boxed torte onto the porch. “She’s gone!  She took the boys and left!”  Olivia hesitantly consoled the strange man, unsure of how to respond, “I’m sorry.”  “I’m a fucking monster!”  “You are not a monster,” Olivia weakly assured him, attempting to remain cordial.  “I ate the cat!  I almost took my wife’s head clean off with my bare hands!”  Olivia felt her throat go dry.  “She told me that she would never give up on me!  She would help me get better from this disease!  But I lost control of myself!  I ruined it!  I'm a vile disgusting creature!  I beg you, please end me!”  Olivia could not endure any more of this chaotic man.  She gently shoved Gregor away and left the property as quickly as she could.

Dust Creek, Fortress Rock, New Hampshire,

Olivia stood at the cliff outside of her home.  She had momentarily considered leaping headfirst into the rocks below, but the thought of leaving behind her two sons lingered.  Olivia was disappointed that she could not reconcile with Theresa, she seemed like a kind woman, albeit as stiff and awkward as Olivia herself.  She began to weep uncontrollably again. 

“Do not cry, my sweet Oliva,” she heard a familiar slimy voice call out to her.

Startled, Olivia turned to find a pair of pale glowing eyes not too far in the distance.  At first glance she thought it was a wild animal, but it was Daniel looking more deranged than ever.  “Daniel?  What… are you?”

“I have ascended!  No longer restrained by the shackles of my humanity, dear Olivia,” he answered abstractly, slowly walking towards her in a dramatic manner.  Olivia backed away and tensed, remembering the lack of terrain behind her.  The man now radiated pure sadism.  “I had an inkling it was you.  You killed those men!” she accused him.  Daniel clapped his hands in a cartoonishly condescending manner, “Yes, very good, Olivia!  Smart lady!”  “Jakob...  Slaughtered innocents just to spite him!”  “It’s as if you could read my very thoughts!” he replied, mockingly.  “Why?  Because he was mean to you?”

“He was unworthy of the life he lived!  His house, his money, his family!  He would be nothing without me!  He was a lazy, ungrateful, selfish, timid little schweinehund!” Daniel shouted, now standing roughly fifteen feet away from her. 

“A better man than you, arschloch!” Olivia insulted him in his own language as she fumbled a small pistol out of her blazer.  She fired two shots directly into Daniel’s chest.  “Schlampe!” he snarled, clutching one of the wounds before glaring at Olivia, marginally impressed that she could defend herself.  Daniel’s eyes beamed brighter, “Discard it!” he demanded.  Olivia felt an unnatural compulsion and tossed the pistol off the cliff into the water below.  “How?”

“As I said, Olivia… I have ascended.” He repeated softly, his nose now a foot away from hers.  She wondered how nobody in her house could hear any of this pandemonium.  Did Daniel murder her family before cornering her?  “Your maid and children slumber peacefully,” he assured her, as if he read her mind.  “I wish no ill upon your boys.”

She closed her eyes, trying to retreat into her mind.  “Do not fret, Olivia.  I am not a savage.  I have only come to bestow upon you my gift,” he assured her before sinking his fangs into her neck.  She refused to scream and endured the pain, radically accepting this as her fate.

Daniel removed a syringe from his pocket and injected Olivia with a glowing piss-yellow liquid.  It was a serum that he had pickpocketed from Theresa when previously embracing her.  At this dosage, the concoction would put Olivia in a stasis long enough for her burial, “This is merely the sleeping agent I used on your family.  I will return for you at I time I deem acceptable,” he whispered in her ear, ominously.

Olivia, weary and disoriented, fell backwards off the cliff.  Daniel watched as she plummeted onto the talus below  He looked down at her mangled body.  Her eyes were somehow still closed.  “Fuck,” He muttered, “I think she’ll be fine.”

V. Melancholic Depression

Manor Valdemar, Fortress Rock, New Hampshire, 1886 (The Following Year)

It had been a bleak evening. Theresa somberly stared at herself in the mirror, feeling an array of negative emotions and unable to express them. Her brother, Jakob, allegedly mass murdered almost half of the attendants at a dinner party held by President Grover Cleveland.  He had been shot by the police after attempting to flee by boat, though it was unclear if he was still alive.  Part of Theresa remained skeptical that Jakob actually went on this rampage, as he was only ever violent towards their brother, Daniel.

Theresa’s husband waltzed up to admire her reflection, “I always liked this outfit on you.  The tailor did a pretty good job matching the original.  He even threw in the hat as complimentary.”  Theresa sighed without a word and walked over to the window to start closing the curtains in the room. “You’re welcome, Theresa!” Gregor scowled.  “Yes, thank you, Gregor,” she responded blankly, before placing her hat on the side table and unbuttoning her coat, “I’m going to sleep.” 

Gregor stared at the floor empathetically.  His excessive energy often made him appear insensitive and shallow, “I’m sorry, I was being a bit bitter.  I forgot about the whole Jakob… thing.”  Gregor was never fond of Theresa’s brother, having found him to be a selfish hermit, but he never anticipated homicidal tendencies.  Yet he found that quiet men could often be quite psychotic.

 Gregor glanced back up to see that Theresa was already wearing her most unflattering nightgown before she threw herself onto the bed and planted her face into her pillow.  He crouched down aside her and examined her forearm.  “I’ve noticed that those glyph you burned into your arms healed.  I’m glad you stopped doing that.”  “Mhm,” she mumbled, in unintelligible affirmation.  Gregor covered Theresa with the quilt and turned out the lights.

Stein Bridge, Fortress Rock, New Hampshire

The following morning, Theresa visited Jakob’s mansion, known as “Stein Bridge,” located on a distant hill in Dust Creek.  She wished to finally meet Jakob’s (now) former wife, Olivia, for the first time.  Theresa had only seen the building from the distance and had never been inside, despite being the younger sister of its (now) former owner.  After reaching the front door, Theresa was greeted by a young maid with coppery red hair, “My apologies, but Madame Dermody is not taking visitors.” Theresa felt foolish, having traveled such a distance uninvited.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be a bother.”  

Claire studied Theresa’s face, “Were you, by any chance, related to her husband?” 

Theresa froze, “Yes, my name is Theresa Goth, he was my older brother.  I understand if she does not want to see me.  I’m an uninvited guest, after all.”  Claire was not too trusting of anyone from Emmerich Keilhaus’ bloodline, especially one who also wore a top-hat, but she felt Theresa at least had a right to meet her former in-law.  She studied Theresa’s face, it was angular and her resting expression was morose, but she had a kinder disposition than her siblings.  “Claire Rouge,” she responded informally before motioning Theresa into the foyer.

The interior of the mansion was mildly Boroque in appearance.  Theresa glimpsed at a portrait of an auburn-haired woman turned to the side, confidently ignoring the viewer.  “That’s Madame Dermody.  She absolutely hates that portrait and wants to destroy it.  She thinks it makes her look pompous and promiscuous,” Claire informed.

III. Embarrassing Sibling

Vienna, Austria 1859-1880

Having been orphaned by her fatalistic father, Theresa spent the remainder of her childhood living with the Goth family.  The family was welcoming and treated her like their own kin, but Theresa always felt somewhat aloof around most of them, aside from Gregor.

By the time Theresa had reached her early 20s, Gregor became enamored with her.  Gregor proposed to Theresa, which the family did not anticipate, as the couple rarely displayed any affection.  Gregor and Theresa married in a Catholic Church at the family’s insistence; however, Theresa’s own religious upbringings were somewhat obscure.

Fortress Rock, New Hampshire 1870-1880

The City of Fortress Rock briefly functioned as an immigration port to the United States in the 1870s.  The port eventually shut down in 1880 due to the city growing overpopulated, crime-ridden, and plagued with diseases from mismanaged waste.  Within the timeframe that the port was functional, Gregor and Theresa immigrated to the Island.  They were accompanied by Gregor’s younger sister, Morgana, who was either standoffish or brash, depending on the time of day and company.

1885

Gregor and Theresa had moved into an imposing four-story Queen Anne Victorian mansion in the Downtown area of Fortress Rock.  Gregor had commissioned the design from the Jacobs and Martinov Company.  It was an easy house to find amongst the other buildings in its vicinity, as it was dark and gray, appearing as a silhouette of a building from the distance.

Morgana answered the front door to greet a man with a rugged face wearing a derby hat.  “Yes?” Morgana answered, forgoing any pleasantries.  The man had been staring at her bare feet, more so perplexed than titillated.  Upon realising her annoyed body language, he abruptly diverted his attention to her face.  “Yes, good day.  Is there a Theresa… Goth living here?”  “Uh huh.” 

Morgana recognized the man’s familiar accent and responded in German, “Du kannst auch mit ihm schlafen, weil er für dich bequemer ist.”  (You can also sleep with it because it is more comfortable for you)

“I beg your pardon?” the man responded, with both confusion and discomfort.  “Sorry, we moved here over ten years ago and have been only speaking English.  I can barely remember my native tongue.”  The man forced a chuckle, “May I come in?”  “Theresa is resting.”  “May I wait around?”  

Morgana shrugged, “I suppose.”

Morgana led the man into the parlor where Gregor was sitting by the fireplace.  “Well, well, well.  Look who has decided to grace us with his presence!”  “Good afternoon, Herr Goth.”  Gregor disregarded the man’s greeting, “Jakob Augustus Keilhaus!  Too big of a man to even acknowledge own sister until she almost dies!”  

“For the love of fuck, Gregor!” Morgana interjected.

The man, who happened to be Theresa’s eldest brother, Jakob, folded his arms defensively, “I’m sorry, did I do something to offend?”  “You are up there on that hill in that grandiose castle of yours, ignoring the world around you!  You could not even take the initiative to develop some kind of bond with your sister, who was living here this whole time!”  

Jakob no longer feigned his politeness, “My sister was presumed dead when she was eleven years old!  How was I supposed to be aware that she was not only still alive, but married you, of all people?”  He eagerly wanted to smack the glasses off Gregor’s smug face.   “She sought you out!  And you still never even introduced us to your wife and children.  God only knows what your brother is up to!” 

The argument was disrupted by the sound of slow heavy footsteps descending the staircase.  Theresa appeared in the doorway, clutching a cane and wearing an outfit that she did not personally have much taste for.  An innocent bystander to a heist that went awry, Theresa had recently been shot in the back with a shotgun from a distance of fifteen feet.  Any other person would normally be dead after receiving such a blow. 

Morgana glanced at Theresa’s cane and turned to her brother.  “Gosh, Gregor.  How hard did you fuck the poor woman?”  Jakob glared at Morgana while Gregor became further enraged.  

“Morgana!  Stop being vile!” Gregor shouted.

Theresa sighed, having an even lower tolerance for Morgana’s dirty quips than she normally would.  “I had nine pellets extracted from my back, have been in unfathomable pain, and misplaced my favorite hat.  I am not in the fucking mood, Morgana!”

Jakob removed his derby and handed it to Theresa awkwardly, “Please take mine.” 

“Jakob, put your hat back on.”  She hobbled past him, hunched over, and sat down on the couch before wincing in pain.  “Can I get you a pillow?” Jakob asked.  “I’m fine, Jakob.  Stop pretending to be helpful.”

“I am getting you a pillow, Theresa,” Morgana asserted.

Gregor began to bawl uncontrollably, prompting Morgana to roll her eyes in annoyance, “You know she does this all the fucking time, Gregor!”

“I do this all of the time?  Do you think I wanted to get murdered in a neighborhood of degenerate necrophiliacs?”  Theresa scowled.  “I don’t know.  Maybe that’s something that appeals to you!” Morgana snapped and left the room to go search the closets for a pillow.

“I’m not blaming you, Theresa,” Gregor wiped his tears with his handkerchief, “but you do tend to die more than the average person.  It’s taken such a toll on all of us.  What happens when you die for good?”

“You… die all of the time?” Jakob questioned his sister.  Gregor glared up at Jakob, “She drinks this concoction that puts her body into a stasis that keeps her from bleeding out after putting herself in harm’s way!  She experiments on herself with elixirs and poisons.”

“I know what I am doing!” Theresa shouted, prompting silence from the rest of the room, “I know what I’m doing… but I understand it hurts you all.  I promise to stop.”  Gregor pushed himself off the couch in attempt to go embrace his wife.  Theresa put her hands up in defense, “Please don’t touch me right now!”  The severe back pain was rendering Theresa especially irritable.

Morgana returned with a large pillow and secured it under Theresa’s back before crouching down so that their faces were inches apart, “Your brother and you have such beautiful eyes.”  “Umm, thank you,” Theresa replied uneasily.  “Please don’t…” she then pleaded, in anticipation of Morgana doing something absurd.

Morgana licked Theresa’s face, causing her to subtly wince.  “Christ, can you please be normal for once?” Gregor shouted before Morgana frolicked out of the room past a mortified Jakob. “Does she normally behave like this?”  

“Yes!” Gregor and Theresa responded in unison with the same exhausted tone.

Jakob stood quietly, trying to remember his purpose of being in this odd house amongst these odd people.  “Theresa, I want to try to rekindle our relationship.  There is apparently a lot happening in your life that I was unaware of,” he blurted out stiffly, as if memorizing a script.

Gregor chortled in mockery.  Jakob ignored him and continued, “I mean it, Theresa.  I’ve been very absorbed in my work.  I want to introduce you to my family.” 

“I would appreciate that,” Theresa responded, smiling for the first time within the past couple of days.  “Perhaps you can also help put me in contact with Daniel.  I’ve heard that he lives on one of the islands.”

Jakob’s expression darkened at the mentioning of their brother.  Daniel was the second eldest of the Keilhaus siblings, and the only other one alive. “You have not seen Daniel?”

“You’re a bit more well-known than Daniel and easier to find,” Gregor interrupted, “I’ve only heard rumors about Daniel.  None of them are… excuse me.” Gregor censored himself, realizing that he was speaking too much.

“Daniel is a pestilence,” Jakob spat, “It is in your interest to keep away from him.  Both of you!”

“Jakob, please stop being ridiculous and judgmental,” Theresa pleaded.  “Absolutely not!  You at least benefit from him thinking that you are dead!”  “He’s our brother!”  “We will not speak any more of this!  You will meet Olivia, our two sons, and our maid… she makes a fucking delectable chocolate soufflé!” he proposed indignantly.

Unfortunately, Jakob never introduced Theresa to his family, nor did she enjoy the soufflé.

II. Bavarian Boy

Central Europe, 1859

Being that her father, Emmerich, was not going to leave his chair any time soon, Theresa needed to take the initiative and brew Hector’s elixir for jaundice.   Her father kept some of his less questionable reagents in the pantry.  The precise measurements for each ingredient were unclear, thus she needed to use her intuition.  She was either to experiment and attempt to help Alfreda or merely let her die.  Little did Theresa expect this concoction to produce such intense fumes that it almost singed her eyebrows off.  She soon realized that she inhaled too much.  Her muscles grew stiff, and she fell backwards, unable to breathe, or even shift her eyes away from the ceiling.

She had awakened in darkness, feeling completely enclosed, soon realizing that she was in a coffin. Theresa screamed and pounded her fists against the wooden cover.  Unfortunately, screams were muffled.

What were the chances that she would ever be buried alive?  Why had she not suffocated?  She had plenty of time to ponder these questions while she waited hopelessly.  

After Theresa lost track of time, the coffin started to rattle, as she heard a series of loud thumping.  The coffin was pried open, and as soon as she felt the outside air, she was blinded by a lantern. Theresa saw a young lad, roughly about sixteen years of age.  “Thank goodness, you’re alive!  You’re lucky I got here in time.”  He reached down to help her out of the hole.  Theresa promptly vomited in front of young man.  She reeked of sweat and felt sickly.  “I’m sorry,” Theresa moaned.  “Don’t be sorry.  It’s a miracle you are still alive.  Most people would suffocate within five hours of being down there.”  “How long was I gone?”  “You were buried a couple of months ago.  I heard a faint high-pitched noise and Oscar here started sniffing around your grave.  He was whimpering more than ever.”  “Who is Oscar?”  Theresa asked with a pitiful rasp.  “My dog, Oscar…”  the young man searched around him to notice that his dog was not there, “What the heck? He ran off again!”   “I’ll help you find him if you take me back home after,” “Absolutely… By the way, my name is Gregor!  Gregor Goth!”  

Theresa pondered.  He had the same last name as the man who wrote that awful book.  How common was the name “Goth?”  Gregor was part of a wealthy Bavarian family that recently immigrated to Austria and purchased ownership of this large cemetery near Theresa’s village outside of Vienna.  Despite their bleak setting, Gregor was far more cheerful and cordial than Theresa’s own brothers had ever been.

Theresa briefly struggled to remember her identity, having been disoriented from being buried.  “ Herr Goth, my name is Theresa… Theresa Keilhaus.”

The two retrieved Oscar, who had been chasing a squirrel, and then traveled back to Theresa’s old cottage. When Theresa entered, the inside was almost entirely empty, except for a note and what appeared to be some sort of magic wand.  Theresa stared down at the note before reading it.

Dear Theresa,

I apologize for abandoning you, but I knew that you would survive your self-induced petrification.  I have decided to take my own life, being that I have fulfilled my purpose and am now a redundant entity.  Jakob and Daniel had departed for Linz for some sort of strange business venture and Alfreda sadly passed away.  Your brothers have dispensed with my books, scrolls, and ingredients.  I leave you this antique wand that belonged to a man who was set on fire during the Salzburg Witch Trials.  The man did not survive the burning, but the wand did.  You, like this wand, are resilient and stick-like.

You are a special child, Theresa.  Always remember that.

Love,

Emmerich

Theresa’s eyes began to swell with tears.  She could not believe that her own father let her nearly suffocate in a coffin and then killed himself due to his “redundancy.”  She wanted to kick over the lantern and let the entire cottage burn down, with the flames engulfing her.  She grabbed the wand and attempted to break it in half, but it did not even bend. Gregor, who could hear Theresa’s gentle sobbing from outside, entered the cottage and saw her staring at the lantern lividly, with tears dripping down her face. Gregor clasped his arms around her and attempted to pull her away from the lantern.  “No!” she screamed, trying to writhe away, “leave me alone!”  “Frau Keilhaus, I’m not going to hurt you,” Gregor responded in struggle before finally releasing her.  He held his hand out, “Please.  Let's talk.”

She kept her head turned away from Gregor.  Theresa did not want Gregor to see her crying, “Everyone is gone…”  Gregor picked up the note that Theresa had dropped and carefully read it, his eyes swelling up with tears as well.  He wiped the tears away, “Maybe we can find your brothers in Linz.”

Unfortunately, they did not find Theresa’s brothers in Linz.