Ice in the Blood

Ice in the Blood

The main first class dining hall of the Titanic was a grand affair. Tables mostly seating 12, were laid with the finest silver flatware, porcelain dining sets and crystal glassware to match. This all sat on crisp, white linen table clothes, draped over heavy oaken tables. The décor was suitably grandiose, white panelled walls, interspersed with ornate pilasters topped with the busts of Greek gods surrounded the hall, which sat the entire width of the enormous vessel. The strap work ceilings, again in white, complement the setting perfectly. The captains table sat central to all of this, no grander than any of the others, but somehow imposing.

At around six thirty in the evening passengers began to saunter into the dining room, weaving their way between the tables to their allotted seating. Some guided, or in the case of some more elderly diners, assisted, by one of the many serving staff present. Most already knew where they were going, they had been at sea for four days now, and were were familiar with the seating arrangement. All were meticulously turned out, gentlemen in evening wear with bow ties, ladies in a dazzling array of dresses, ranging from dowdy to scandalous.

Trixie La Rue was wearing one of the latter kind, when she made her entrance into the dinning room. She arrived more than fifteen minutes after the last previous guest had been seated, (she had always worked with the motto, be fashionably late and make a grand entrance.) As one of the staff approached her, she announced in an unnecessarily loud voice,

“ I have been invited to sit at the Captains table (She pronounce “Captain” with a capital C.) I am Trixie La Rue, If you would be so kind?” With this, she held out one white gloved hand, which the usher duly took, and led her over to to the eleven, already seated guests at the captains table.

Reactions to her arrival were mixed. Of course all of the gentlemen stood as she was seated, as was only proper. Whilst maintaining a courteous smile throughout, Captain Edward Smith still managed to exude an air of irritation at her tardiness. Only three other ladies were placed at the table, and while nodding politely in in her direction, all remained tight lipped with barely a smile between them. All but one of the remaining seven gentleman greeted her effusively, obviously taken by her natural beauty and daring attire. The last, an older gentleman with short grey hair and goatee beard, nodded curtly in her direction and immediately sat down, staring down at his place mat. With the arrival of his last guest, the Captain began his formal introductions.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Trixie La Rue, Songstress, star of Stage and Music Hall variety, and if rumours are true, soon to be entering the world of moving pictures.” A light muttering ran round the table, mostly agreeable. Trixie then spoke

“I do so apologise if I have kept you waiting. I had an absolute nightmare trying to get into this dress, and the hair was all over the place.” She smiled sweetly at no one in particular. One gentleman responded,

“Well I must say, it was worth the effort my dear.” A murmur of agreement again rippled around the table. The lady to the man’s left, presumedly his wife, just gave him an icy glare.

“Why thank you sir, so kind of you to say.” Came her flirtatious response. The captain, who was still standing, interjected in his deep baritone voice.

“Well, let me finish my introductions, we are already behind schedule, thankfully unlike this fine vessel, which is making record speed.” This raised a cheer from those within earshot and settled the atmosphere somewhat.

Holding out a large weathered hand to his right, He introduced the first of the remaining guests.

“It is my pleasure to introduce, our ships physician doctor Seamus O’Laughlin, and his assistant, Harvey Botsworth. indicating a handsome middle aged man with glasses, perhaps carrying a little too much weight, and to his right, a younger man, looking to be in his late twenties, who had a nervous, twitchy air about him.

“To their right,” the captain continued, “I am honoured to introduce Mr Bruce Ismay, head of the White Star Line, who commissioned and owns this vessel. We are grateful to have him along for our maiden voyage.” A small wave of applause followed this announcement, and mutterings of congratulations. The nondescript gentleman, looking to be in his late thirties, nodded appreciatively and smiled.

“And moving on clockwise, we have Mr John Astor. Entrepreneur, businessman, hotelier, and his charming wife Madeleine, who I believe are returning to America to await the birth of their first child.” The gentleman was dignified and slightly aloof, appearing to be in his late forties. His wife was clearly many years his junior, looking not long out of finishing school. The gathered diners greeted the pair politely, but two of the ladies, yet to be introduced, shared a knowing glance with one another.

John Astor and his new bride Madeleine were well known in high social circles. Astor was reportedly one of the worlds richest men, making most of his money in real estate and owning several prestigious hotels. However it was due to a recent scandal that he had become more widely known. Astor, forty seven, had divorced his wife of eighteen years, Ava Willing, and less than a year later had married the eighteen year old Madeleine Force.

“And moving along,” the captain continued, “We have Mr Peregrine Hall and his delightful wife Clara, co-owner of Tweedale, England’s largest textile manufacturer, and beside them we have Mr Edwin Hall, brother of Peregrine, and his beautiful wife Edith, the other half of the Tweedale textile empire.” Further greetings followed and the Captain, who was very keen to get things moving along, continued on his final guest.

“And finally, it is my absolute pleasure to introduce you to Dr Vincent Aulac, physician to the German royal family. who tells me he is travelling to New York to further his studies into haemophilia.” Vincent Aulac glanced up at his dining companions and spoke in a thick German accent. Hi voice was deep yet gentle, with an almost hypnotic undertone. It flowed from him like warm honey, coating every word, every syllable.

“Please, I would ask that you call me Vincent, the doctor is such a…,” He paused for a moment, eyes flicking up briefly to the left, as if trying to find the correct English word to continue, “…such a formal title. I am sure we are all to be friends here.”

“I’m sure we will doct… sorry, Vincent.” Polite laughter followed, then the captain continued. “And I’m sure you find plenty to discuss with our own Doctor O’Laughlan. No mean physician himself.

“Please, call me Seamus.” The ships doctor responded in a soft Irish lilt, echoing his predecessors sentiment. More laughter followed this self effacing declaration.

Finally, as he sat, the captain nodded almost in-perceptively to one of the near by stewards, who hurried away towards the galley.

“Well Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to belatedly welcome you all aboard, and please raise your glasses in a toast to our good health and all God’s speed to this mighty vessel’s maiden voyage.” A hearty cheer ran through the crowd and the clinking of fine crystal filled the dining hall. Glasses were quickly refilled by attentive serving staff, and as the wine flowed, so to did the conversation.

Trixie La Rue, who was seated next to Vincent Aulac, turned towards the doctor and in a sultry voice asked,

“So Vincent, tell me, where have you been hiding yourself for the past few days? I know this ship is truly enormous, but I do believe this is the first time I have set eyes on you. And I’m sure I would have remembered such a distinguished profile if I had.” The doctor appeared a little flustered, and without making eye contact, replied,

“Well, I have spend most of my time in my cabin, studying and completing various papers.”

“So there is no Mrs Aulac keeping you company.” Trixie replied, in a somewhat inquiring manner.

“No my good lady, I am afraid I am married to my profession. I have little time for any distractions.” He replied in short.

Slightly deflated, Trixie sank slightly back in her plush green velvet lined seat. Then she appeared inspired and pressed on with another question.”

“Well Vincent, as you are so engrossed in medical matter, I would love to hear your opinion on the wave of sickness that appears to have come over this vessel.” We are now four days into our voyage and it seems to me that a good section of the passengers, particularly in the lower classes, have become stricken with a bad case of sea sickness. Or might it be something else?’ Her tone was playful, but curious. Conversation around the table came to a stop and all eyes focused on the doctor. He shook his head slightly then responded, “Well I am no expert on nautical illnesses, but we have been through some uncommonly rough waters recently. Perhaps Doctor O’Laughlan may be able to shed more light on the issue.”

As if watching a tennis match, the other ten pairs of eyes turned in unison towards the ships physician.

“Well, it is hard to say, as each case has to be considered on its own merit, but I would say that currently, around three hundred passengers have been treated for various maladies, chief among them mal de mer, and mainly among those staying in the lower decks.” The doctor reported. A few eyebrows raised among those listening, which O’Laughlan noticed, and added the caveat, “But it is not uncommon for those below to suffer more due to their location, and although more prevalent than normal, as the esteemed doctor said, we have been through some uncommonly rough waters.” The doctor cast a quick sideways glance at his captain, hoping he had not spoken out of turn. The captain remained stoic, but not unhappy, which Seamus took as a good sign.

Then Mrs Clara Hall spoke up, rather hesitantly.

“There do appear to be a large number of vacant seats in the dining room this evening. More than is usual don’t you think?” Her husband glared at her, and Clara stared ashen face down into her lap. Trixie La Rue scanned quickly around the room. Every table that seated twelve had at least two missing, and most other positions were short of at least one diner. Noticing the gathering consternation amongst those at his table, the captain turned to his ships medic and asked,

“So doctor O’Laughlan, do you not feel this was something that may have been brought to my attention earlier?”

“Well Captain Smith,” the physician began, “Although it is uncommonly virulent among the lower decks, I did not feel it necessary to bother you with what I can only describe as a passing malady, which should pass once we approach calmer waters. I do realise the significance of this historic maiden voyage, and felt your attention should be focused entirely on its smooth passing.”

The captain looked and him for a moment, then smiled briefly. Apparently the conversation had gone to his liking. “Very well doctor. But please keep me informed if things should escalate. The captain stood as he spoke, in a booming voice, “Now, shall we once more raise a toast to this magnificent vessel. God bless the Titanic!”

And the assembled diners responded in kind.

The evening progressed cordially, pleasant conversation flowing to and fro. Trixie flirted and simpered at her very best. The gentlemen responded with effluent praise, the wives turned coldly away. Only Doctor Aulac remained separate from everything, listening intently, but not adding to the proceedings. If anyone tried to engage him he would not make eye contact and pretend to fuss with a napkin or some other frivolous act. The food finally came to an end, and as the last of the glasses of wine were drained, all were fairly merry, excepting the captain, who had abstained from the alcohol.

“Gentlemen,” The Captain announced, “Would you care to join me in the smoking room for cigars and brandy?” This met with general affirmation. The captain continued, “Ladies, I bid you good night, and might I suggest a walk along the promenade before retiring? The sea air can be both invigorating and soporific.” The ladies all muttered their appreciation, and then the twelve split into their pre ordained groups, leaving the table.

The four ladies strolled along the deck, known as the promenade, in awkward silence. Trixie La Rue stayed close to Madeleine Astor, feeling more comfortable in her company. Trixie knew she was considered a working girl made good, and Madeleine had been at the sharp end of most of societies tongues recently. Of course the other two ladies were comfortable in each others company, they were married to brothers and as such had spent many, many evening just like this one, albeit not at sea.

Trixie, as was her want, couldn’t bare the silence and spoke up,

“Was it just me, or did anyone else find Doctor Aulac a curious fellow? Undoubtedly handsome, but so reclusive.”

Madeleine replied, “Yes, I didn’t really have chance to speak to him at length, but an odd fellow indeed. So involved in his research, I really do not recall seeing him before this evening. But perhaps he is just one of those who merges with the crowd.” An uncomfortable murmur of agreement came from the the other ladies. Trixie began a response,

"I don't think the doctor has the sort of face that would merge with a crowd, I'm sure I would remember him whe...."

Trixie cut her sentence off, as a gang of what looked to be five or six men rounded the deck in front of them. The ladies slowed their pace to a near stop and eyed the group wearily. The men did not appear to be dressed for first class, and some of them were swaying unsteadily, as if under the influence of alcohol. Edith Hall took the initiative and grabbed Clara’s arm.

“Ladies, I think it might be wise if we about faced and returned towards the dining room, post haste.” Without another word, the four turned and took up a brisk pace back towards the direction from which they had just come. But it was too late.

The first attack was as swift as it was brutal. A muscular Latino looking man landed on Edith’s shoulders as if jumping down from the skies, and with one swift rake of his arm, tore her throat open. The blood gushed out, splattering the other three and quickly forming a pool on the deck. Three more figures leapt from the darkness and soon the ladies were engulfed in darkness. The only sounds, the tearing of flesh and the lapping of eager tongues.

In the smoking room, the gentlemen were seated in red leather armchairs, each swilling a balloon of brandy in one hand, and holding a fine Havana cigar in the other, That is all except Doctor Aulac, who held neither and sat with his elbows on the armrests and fingers steepled in front of his lips. They sat in a companionable silence for awhile, just enjoying the moment, there was no reason to speak. After a few sips of Brandy, and puffs of cigar, they were all suitably relaxed. It was Seamus O’Laughlan, the ships doctor, who began conversation.

‘So Vincent, as a medical practitioner, I am fascinated by your studies. I am envious of the access you must have to state of the art laboratories and the like. And Germany must be a fascinating place to study in.”

Vincent shift in his seat slightly, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. “Well,’ He began, in his thick accent, “I am actually from a small province to the west of Germany, but have done most of my research in Munich. My studies have branched from my initial research into Haemophilia and I have been investigating the healing factors of some animal bloods on humans. There are many lizards out there that can regrow tails if severed. Why, the common earthworm can grow into separate creatures if cut in two. Can you imagine the benefits for mankind, the leaps and bounds we could make through evolution?”

The others sat and stared at the man, whose euphoria had dwindled in the realisation that these people were not of a like mind. Bruce Ismay began to speak,

“Sir, you must be quite mad if you believe…” But his speech was cut short. From outside came a chorus of screams and wails, and several shadows began to pour into the room. Dr Aulac rose from his chair and spread his arms. His body seemed to take on a new form, filling out, muscles defining. Unbelievably he began to rise from the ground, until hovering three feet above the chaos. His face contorted and narrowed, eyes glowing gold. Large incisors grew down across his chin and a black serpentine tongue flicked across them hungrily.

“You see, my flock, you are but food for us. And what better place to have you but in this titanic tin can.” He let out a blood curdling laugh and fell upon the nearest human and feasted.

Captain Smith was shell shocked. There was no way his mind could cope with the atrocities he saw and the very existence of these creatures. So his mind broke. Snapped in two like a twig. Running on pure muscle memory and conditioning, he began to fight his way through the onrushing horde, his only mission to get to the bridge.

Carnage ruled on the Titanic that night. People trapped aboard with nowhere to run were like lambs to the slaughter. And as they died, they rose, to join the growing throng of insatiable creatures.

At approximately eleven o’clock that night the captain burst into the Bridge, bleeding from several wounds and a crazed look in his eye. His first mate, William Mc Master, looked at the captain in disbelief.

“Captain, what the holy hell is going on? We have reports of madmen running amok, the aft of the ship is ablaze, talk to me, please.”

“Lieutenant Mc Master,” The captain spoke, sounding almost rational. Enough like his old self for all the crew on deck to pay attention.

“The ship has been compromised, overrun by…” He faltered for a few seconds, struggling to find the words, “…by those infected with a deadly virus. At all costs, we must prevent this vessel from reaching America. The results could be catastrophic.

“But captain, there are fifteen hundred passengers on board. This is crazy talk.” His first mate replied.

“Look out there Mc Master!! Do they look like passengers to you?” The captain spat back. As if to emphasis his point, a lump of flesh thudded shudderingly onto the bridge window. “I am taking manual control of this ship and will make sure she never reaches land."

Prologue

Several life boats bobbed aimlessly on the ocean, rocked by the artificial tide of the mighty sinking ship. Passengers swam frantically trying to find purchase or loved ones. Children were passed up to saving hands by rescuers unheralded. Most sat in numb disbelief as, the mighty vessel that had been the Titanic uttered its final guttural death cry and disappeared beneath the waves.

In lifeboat number four, Trixie La Rue had miraculously survived the vampiric massacre aboard the Titanic. And, she had also escaped the now sinking wreck, fighting her way through insanity and chaos to reach the lifeboat. She was a survivor. She slouched back against the side of the boat exhausted, barely aware of the infant that was shoved into her arms as more were dragged from the ocean. Finally she sat up, some energy restored, and looked down at the bundle of cloth in her lap. Trixie carefully peeled the layers from the child’s face, to be greeted by the radiant smile of a baby boy. The infant smiled up at her happily, his eyes flashing golden for just a second. She smiled back, and her eyes reflected his.

The Titanic was a disaster that echoed around the word, but unbeknown to most, it could have been so much worse.