CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Polidori woke with a start, the horrifying nightmare consuming his fragmented sleep sucked from his mind toward oblivion, before slamming harshly back through the darkness to smother him. He lifted his face from the top of his desk, rolling his shoulders to stretch out a kink as his gaze settled once more on the letter from Lord Byron with its single loathsome line.
You foolish, stupid man. What have you done? Only God can help us now. —Byron
The envelope contained pages ripped from The New Monthly Magazine, 1 April 1819 issue. The story commenced on page three, where even the most careless reader could not miss it:
The
VAMPYRE;
A Tale.
Polidori was at a loss how the manuscript had found its way from the Swiss countryside to a London printing house—something he had
