Funhouse (31 page)

“
And your colleagues there would be begging for their lives. But as you say, I’m just a human now, and for that, you should be grateful. But I warn you, Mr Longborough, do not make the mistake of thinking me
incapable
of that which my vampire used to
be capable
of.”

“
Whatever you say.” Longborough said with a smile. “Surely you must know you cannot hope to win.”

“
We shall see, wont we, Mr Longborough?”

“
Yes, I suppose we will. Goodbye Mr Greer.”

Greer didn’t answer, and was content to watch as Longborough and his companions left, and locked him in his
room.             

Edwyn
Greer’s preliminary hearing was held six weeks later at the central London County Court.  Even though the appearance was only to allow Greer to place his initial plea, the media frenzy was intense, with news crews from all over the world jostling for position in order to get a shot of the world’s first humanised vampire. Immense crowds gathered, bringing traffic to a standstill as Greer was ushered from the police vehicle through to the courtroom.

The presiding
Judge was ancient and harsh in appearance, and in front of a small team of legal representatives, silence fell and the Judge spoke.

“
Please, state your name.”

“
I am Edwyn Greer.” He said, flashing the Judge a sick smile.

“
You are charged with the mass murder of over three hundred thousand souls, which, under the Anti-vampirism Act of 2020, signed and verified by the Nations of the World, is punishable by death. How do you plead?”

The room fell into silence, as Greer hesitated. He looked at the
Judge, and then slid his eyes over to look at Longborough, who was watching from across the room.

“
Not Guilty.”

The court descended into frenzy, and the
Judge tried to retain order. Eventually, the crowd silenced, and the Judge spoke.

“
You will be remanded in the custody of the United Nations Anti Vampire Association until your trial, which will take place three weeks from now on October the Fourteenth, 2022.”

Greer remained silent as the
Judge motioned to the guards beside him.

“
Take him down.”

Greer was led by the arms to the cells below the court, where he awaited the trial that the entire world was desperate to
watch.

He
was given a cell of his own, and there he waited, counting down the days until his trial began. He had been allowed a television, and had watched with much amusement of the world’s obsession with him. It seemed he had both supporters and those who wished him burned at the stake, which he supposed was a normal human reaction.

He was not expecting his visitor, and for his part, the man who stood outside his cell looked like he didn’t want to be there either. He was an obese mountain of a man, who had squeezed himself into a cheap suit which looked to be at least two sizes too small for him. He wore his greasy, thinning hair in a side parting, and his grin was as insincere as it was frozen to his face.

“Good morning, Mr Greer.” The man said, clutching his briefcase in front of him tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

“
What do you want?” Greer said, cutting straight past the pleasantries.

“
My name is Gustavo Blackman. I am your court appointed lawyer, I have a few things to go through with you if...”

“
No.”

Blackman stammered, and clutched his briefcase even tighter.

“Excuse me Mr Greer, I don’t think you understand, this is a very, very delicate case and I really think...”

“
I said no.”

Blackman shuffled, increased the intensity of his grin, and went on as if nothing had been said.

“... Now, I think we might be able to get you a new plea as long as you...”

Greer approached the bars, and leaned close to them. From here he could smell Blackmans aftershave, and the not quite hidden hint of body odour.

“How old are you, Mr Blackman?”

“
Well, I, I think we should...”

“
You don’t have to be exact, just an approximation will do.”

“
No, I don’t have any reason to hide it, I’m forty three.” Blackman said.

“
Forty three.” Greer repeated, as he tapped his index finger on the bars.

“
This coming February Mr Blackman, I will reach my two hundred and seventh birthday. I have already forgotten more than you will ever learn. Now you might think that I need a lawyer, and that without one my chances of being free are non-existent, but let me clarify, Mr Blackman.”

Greer grinned, and lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I don’t need or want your consultation, or your services. Furthermore, if you don’t leave here right now, I will telepathically communicate with one of my vampire colleagues, and have them feast on your flesh.”

The colour faded from Blackmans cheeks, and he stammered, struggled between grimace and smile, then without a word, turned on his heel and left. Greer watched him go, smiling all the while. There was of course no such thing as telepathy, but Blackman wasn’t to know, and even the prospect of the international television exposure that he would have received as Greer’s lawyer, wasn’t enough to risk being torn apart by a host of vampires, fictional as they were.

Greer smiled, and turned back to his television. There was less than two weeks to go until the trial.

Day one

October the fourteenth was bleak and grey, the wind edged with rain. The hype for the trial had reached fever pitch, and Greer was ready to begin his trial. He was relaxed as he was led from the cells and to the courtroom clad in shackles around his wrists, ankles and neck.

As he had suspected, the courtroom was jammed to capacity with people and television cameras, all trained on him as he stood and waited for proceedings to begin.

“All rise for the Honourable Judge Jeffries.” The clerk of the court bellowed, and Greer watched with some interest as the man who would ultimately seal his fate approached his seat.

Judge Jeffries was a slim, sharp faced man, with cold blue eyes and thin lips. He sat with what Greer thought to be deliberate flair, took his reading glasses and perched them on the edge of his nose.

“Be seated.” He said with sharp authority.

Greer looked to his right, and saw Longborough and his team of expensive lawyers watching him with predatory smiles. They looked to be enjoying the occasion immensely.

Even with the pressure that came with knowing that the eyes of the world were on him, Greer was still filled with a euphoric sense of calm. The
Judge went through the preliminary introductions, and then it was time to get down to business and for each party to make their initial statements. Longborough was first up, or more accurately one of his lawyers was. Greer recognised him; he had been hyped up on the news over the last few weeks as something of a big shot. His name was Bernard Winthorpe, and he looked every inch the overpriced, overconfident lawyer that he was. His skin was dark and smooth, and his eyes cold and calculating. He looked at Greer with a half-smile on his face, and then walked past the jury, looking at them wordlessly. Greer looked at them with him, twelve anonymous faces who waited for Winthorpe to begin his case.

“
Ladies and gentlemen.” He began, making sure to make eye contact with them in turn as he walked back and forth. “Do not be fooled by Edwyn Greer.”

He paused for effect, and then continued.

“Do not be fooled into thinking that this is about deciding if a man is guilty or not.”

He approached Greer and glared at him, then pointed theatrically.

“This man is a monster. This man is guilty of crimes almost beyond the scope of our ability as civilised human beings to comprehend. But, rest assured, those crimes will be paid for, and you, our jury will have the chance to do what is right and see this monster given the punishment that he duly deserves.”

He stared at Greer, who looked back, meeting his gaze fearlessly. Realising that he wasn’t going to intimidate, Winthorpe walked back towards the jury and stood with his hands behind his back.

“Three hundred thousand. That is the estimated number of deaths that Edwyn Greer is responsible for. Just take a moment to think about that number.”

Greer watched as Winthorpe paced in front of the jury. He had to hand it to him, he was good.

“Three hundred thousand.” He repeated. “Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives.”

He shook his head as he glanced at Greer, and then back to the jury.

“Three hundred thousand dead. That’s more than the New York World Trade Centre attacks in two thousand and one. It’s more than the California earthquake of 2015. It’s more than the tragic nuclear reactor explosion in Japan in 2019. Three hundred thousand.”

He paced, hands clasped behind his back.

“Three hundred thousand.” He said, shaking his head. “And remember this isn’t a team or terrorists, or a freak accident or even Mother Nature. This is just one man. One man. This man.” He said, pointing at Greer.

“
Innocent he may look, but don’t be fooled. Edwyn Greer is a monster, a criminal on a scale so immense, it is difficult to comprehend, but a criminal he is. And as with any criminal, it is up to you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, to ensure that this monster, like any other criminal, is punished for his crimes. Failure to do so means that next time, it could be your children, or husbands, or wives or friends who are the victim. Please, I appeal to you to do the right thing, and keep our society safe. Thank you.”

Winthorpe walked back to Longborough and his legal team, flicking a smug, oozing smile at Greer as he passed and sat back with his team.

The court and the watching world held its breath. It was the former vampire’s turn to speak.

Greer stood, and approached the
jury.

“
In 1707, a young man was infected with a parasite which would change his life forever. He didn’t ask for this, nor did he have any way to escape. But the man became host to the organism which you refer to as vampire, and the man did as the vampire willed, because he was powerless to resist.”

Greer paused, and folded his hands in front of him.

“He didn’t ask for this, nor did he do anything to deserve such a burden, but bonded they did become, and the man was cursed to live under its thrall forever more. Mr Winthorpe talked about husbands, and wives and friends. I once had these things, and my punishment was to watch them die as they grew old and I did not. The three hundred thousand deaths that Mr Winthorpe spoke of are true. They happened. But that in itself is not the question that is being asked today. The question that is being asked is this.”

He paused for effect, and continued.

“Is Edwyn Greer, the man, responsible for his actions?”

He looked at Longborough, and was pleased to see him squirm in his seat.

“Or, was he the innocent victim of the needs and desires of his parasite? That, ladies and gentlemen is the real question. And one which Mr Longborough and his team will try to muddy with his phalanx of experts. I, as you see, stand alone. And I ask you this. Before the cure was found, would you convict a man because he contracted cancer? Would you condemn an alcoholic or an anorexic to death because they were a slave to their disease?”

He looked at the jury.

“I think the answer is obvious. Like me, they are a victim of the thing that controls from within. The vampire that lived within me was responsible for things that I am in no way proud of, but now, as a free man without such burden, the only question that matters is this. Can you condemn a man to death whose only crime was being unfortunate enough to be contaminated by a vicious, dangerous disease? That, ladies and gentlemen, is the question that you would need to keep at the forefront of your mind for the duration of these proceedings. Thank you.”