"Run!" Albert shouted, pulling his friends along as they stumbled toward what he remembered as the cemetery's exit. Count Norman, who had been grabbed by Elena, finally snapped out of it. He started moving his heavy steps to catch up with the group, still glancing back in confusion. But when he saw William's eerie and rapid crawling movement, a chill ran down his spine and he quickly turned his head away.
Fortunately, the cemetery wasn't large, and the exit wasn't far. Besides William, who was closely tailing them, the rest of the "monsters" moved sluggishly. They only followed from a distance. Before long, the group reached the gate. They pushed it open with all their strength, dashed out, and hastily wrapped the chains around the gate. The "monsters" clearly didn't know how to unlock a gate and simply reached their arms through the iron bars, trying to pull them back.
The group quickly backed away, panting in fright. Just then, two young tour guides reappeared from somewhere, looking at them in confusion. "Are you all right, guests? What happened?"
"There are monsters in there!" Albert shouted.
One of the guides chuckled, his expression filled with disbelief. "You're joking, right? There are no monsters. Those legends are just to spook people."
But when Albert pointed toward the cemetery, he was stunned to find that the monsters who had just reached through the iron bars were gone. The gate itself stood wide open, as if the terrifying moment had never happened.
"What?" Albert stared wide-eyed at the cemetery, then at the guide, a cluster of question marks spinning around his head.
So... what was real? What the hell was real???
Suddenly remembering the young man who had traveled with them and turned into a monster, Albert anxiously looked around, then quickly told the tour guides, "There was a reckless young man with us—he also turned into a monster!"
"Uh?" One guide scratched his head, puzzled. "There've only ever been a few guests in your group. No young man."
Had Albert been in a clearer state of mind, he might have realized this was all part of the show. But the horrifying experience had left him too dazed to think straight. He and his friends looked at each other in confusion, then at the other tourists, hoping to find some clue in their expressions. Elena quickly put on an expression as if she were about to faint, while Lady Claire pulled out a smelling bottle from who-knows-where, clearly prepared to use it at any moment—though she didn't actually open it.
A little acting was fine. But to *actually* open it? That would be too much of a sacrifice.
Claire—Lady Berkeley—wasn't frightened at all. In fact, she found the whole thing novel and even started considering adding something similar to her own wax museum. As for Norman, he maintained a calm and composed demeanor, as if nothing had happened.
Still full of question marks, Albert and his nearly terrified friends, along with the other tourists, returned to the booking station at Covent Garden. Albert was not only confused but also a little creeped out. One moment he thought it was all staged, and the next he feared it might've really happened. Maybe there *had* been a reckless young man who turned into a monster—and maybe everyone else had truly forgotten he ever existed.
The thought made Albert shudder. What if he turned into a monster one day? Would his family forget him too?
His mind a muddle, Albert left Covent Garden.
Elena and Lady Claire left with him, taking a carriage to send Elena back to the Campbell household. In the carriage, Lady Claire excitedly talked about the experience.
"No wonder the ghost tour is so popular—it's incredible!"
"You didn't seem scared at all," Elena remarked. She had planned every detail of the tour herself and wasn't fazed by any part of it. But for Berkeley, it was supposedly his first experience. How could he be so unafraid?
Lady Claire smiled gently, a little melancholic but also serene. "Once you've gone through the worst, everything else doesn't seem so scary anymore."
Elena thought of his past and felt a twinge of guilt for stirring up such memories. But Berkeley quickly changed the topic. "When should we visit the wax museum? With me around, I'm sure Mrs. Campbell will let you go out."
"…Weren't you worried about those vampire creatures before?" Elena asked cautiously—there was a coachman nearby, so she couldn't be too direct. "Now that the ghost tour's so popular, do you even need the wax museum?"
"Ohhh\~ So the ghost tour was your doing?" He pointed teasingly at her. "True, vampires are definitely the scariest monsters in all of Luenton now. Ha! You should've seen Norman's face. Priceless."
Elena chuckled. "I thought… he'd be braver."
"Of course," Lady Claire chimed in quickly. "When it comes to real threats, you know, the kind he understands—he can handle those. But fake ones? He has no idea what to do and can't use any of his powers."
All fear comes from a lack of firepower. Elena nodded. "Makes sense."
Lady Claire safely delivered Elena home, where her mother and sister were waiting anxiously. As soon as she walked in, they bombarded her with questions about the outing. Her sister, Jeanette, even said she wanted to go next time—but Elena quickly shut that idea down.
It *was* a bit too terrifying. Thinking of how close Norman came to being exposed, Elena decided to write another letter to the boss, suggesting that guests go in pairs—so if one gets scared stiff, the other can drag them out. Also, a contingency plan was necessary: if all the guests froze in fear and couldn't move, the tour guides would have to go in and lead them out.
The newly upgraded ghost tour quickly became the hottest attraction in all of Luenton. The entire city buzzed with excitement. Every newsstand was filled with articles discussing the new tour. Sensational penny dreadfuls pounced on the trend, releasing vampire-themed stories almost immediately. Vampires became the new literary wave, following in the footsteps of master thieves and wicked nobles.
These authors worked at lightning speed. By the second day after the revamped tour launched, vampire-themed penny novels with gory woodcut covers were already on sale. Vampires fit the penny dreadful aesthetic perfectly. After all, before vampires showed up, illustrators were already under strict orders: *"More blood! We need lots of blood!"*
Elena bought a few penny novels to read. Some read like detective stories, describing how men kept turning up dead on the streets—drained of blood. A detective investigates, discovers the vampire's trail, describes it in chilling detail, and ultimately takes it down with a well-placed bullet. It was gripping and original—a bestseller.
Others had more gothic flair: dark, desolate graveyards where vampires slept in coffins by day and attacked villages by night—starting with livestock, then children and women. A heroic thief discovers their existence and vows to destroy them. The blend of vampire horror and legendary outlaw made for a blockbuster formula.
The ghost tour kept attracting more customers. The number of hired "ghosts" almost couldn't keep up with demand. On William's recommendation, the boss hired more undead actors—possibly every undead in Luenton was working there now. "The undead will never be slaves… unless food and board are included?"
Meanwhile, some artists claimed the vampires had inspired them, resulting in a wave of terrifying new art. The most eye-catching pieces came from someone under the alias "Cribé," who was clearly the Duke of Berkeley. Elena didn't even have to guess—he must've been low on divine favor again and decided to piggyback on the vampire craze to harvest more human fear.
Vampire imagery even made its way to the freak show stage. Some scientists began researching the phenomenon, trying to explain the origin and traits of vampires, and even attempting to treat the "condition."
As the frenzy grew, the Duke of Berkeley launched a vampire exhibit at the wax museum and personally invited Elena to visit and give feedback. Although she was eagerly awaiting reader reactions to the latest issue of *Ladies' Monthly*, she didn't hesitate to go—he was a friend, after all.
Truth be told, Elena was quite timid. She normally avoided haunted houses altogether. So stepping into a horror-themed wax museum was a real challenge.
Since the museum was preparing for a new exhibit, it was closed to the public. Elena was the only guest. She politely took Berkeley's arm and entered. First, she saw a wall covered in masks. Though they were only made of wax, they looked uncannily lifelike, each seeming to have a soul of its own.
Some masks wore furrowed brows, as if enduring endless pain. Others displayed hideous grins. Still others glared with bulging eyes. Every pore, every wrinkle, exquisitely detailed. According to Berkeley, these were modeled after notorious historical murderers, each carrying a chilling past.
Thanks but no thanks—she was already getting scared.
The wax figures weren't just standing alone. Each room had a specific theme. Besides wax figures, there were execution tools: gallows, guillotines. Severed heads hung beside them, so realistic they made her skin crawl. Some wax figures were in the middle of stabbing others, their victims frozen in pain, caught in a moment between life and death.
Touring the museum didn't feel like looking at wax figures—it felt like stepping into real, terrifying scenes.
Finally, they arrived at the vampire exhibit. In the center of the room was a simulated graveyard. Above it hung a dim yellow moon—probably lit with kerosene. The light fell upon a black coffin, its lid slightly ajar.
Around the coffin stood a towering vampire figure—tall, fearsome, mouth open to reveal sharp fangs. Smaller figures surrounded it—some chasing prey, others lurking in corners.
Elena was genuinely startled. Up until now, the figures had been modeled after real people. The sudden switch to monsters gave her heart a real jolt.
"Well?" Berkeley watched her reaction. "If you're scared, we can leave."
"It's fine." Elena adjusted quickly. Although the vampire sculptures combined various monster traits, none of them had red skin. Good—that shifted attention away from red-skinned club members, easing some pressure on them.
Still, being surrounded by such terrifying figures was a bit unnerving. As she circled the room, inspecting the vampires, a sudden idea struck her.
"Can we make the eyes of these figures move?"
"Should be doable," Lady Claire said, lifting her skirts to join Elena and examine the figure closely. "Yes, we can. What's your idea?"
"We could have the tour guide lead with a candle… and pretend it gets blown out," Elena said confidently.
Berkeley nodded. "Then what? Just darkness might not be scary enough."
"When the candle goes out, someone could quietly rotate the wax figures so they all turn to face the guests," Elena said, trying to nudge one—but it was heavy, so she gave up. "Then, when the candle's lit again, guests will see all the statues staring at them. That will definitely get their hearts racing."
"You're evil," Berkeley said with a grin.
Elena rolled her eyes. She was doing this for *him*.
"If we repeat the blow-out and relight a few times, the figures could even slowly move closer. We'll need to add wheels underneath them. That way, the guests will realize—they're being surrounded."
"Too evil," Berkeley laughed. "You're a true professional."