Alex Mabon was walking the dark streets of London, his eyes watching everything. He had heard a few rumors over the last month or so that piqued his interest greatly. The story he heard was in regard to an angel that had been appearing in various hospitals and workhouses. Some said she brought water, food and gave money. Other stories claimed that she was also death itself and when she saw someone ready for heaven she led them there.
To the hunter this did not sound like any vampire he had ever heard of and yet the part of the story regarding the angel of death couldn't be ignored. There was one man who had recently been released from The Foundling Hospital who swore he had seen her with his own eyes. He described her as beautiful with red hair, pale skin, and a gentle voice. Once he had heard this he immediately thought of the woman he had met in church with the mark on her forehead. Surely she had not fallen victim to the vampire?
For the few nights Alex had been visiting various hospitals and workhouses hoping to see the 'angel' for himself. Nothing ever seemed to materialize. He continued to hear the stories as he talked to various patients or people seeking refuge and a meal for the night. The stories were always the same. The only time anything changed was when he spoke to a man working in one of the hospitals. He gave the same description as all the others, but added that he heard her softly singing an Irish lullaby to a sick elderly woman just before she carried her soul to heaven.
Alex found this a rather curious detail. He had never heard of such a thing before. Every vampire he had ever encountered had been consumed by such bloodlust that even a momentary brush with compassion never happened. Nosferatu always kill quick and unthinkingly like the vicious predators and parasites they were, so why didn't this one?
It was one in the morning and the old hunter was ready to give up the search and leave the Blue-coat Hospital. The stories were just too fanciful, he told himself. They were a lot of pretty imagery with no substance. He started towards the exit, but as he passed one of the wards a voice reached his ears and a familiar vibration went through him alerting to the presence of a vampire. Someone was singing, but more than that, they were singing an old Gaelic lullaby. The voice was so beautiful in its crystalline perfection that he was certain if the angels in heaven heard it they would be jealous.
Stealthily he crept to the edge of the doorway and listened for a few more moments before peeking inside. To his surprise, there was the so-called 'angel' sitting on a stool next to the bed of an old woman. Next to her was a basket that had a cloth over it. He wondered what she was hiding in it. He could tell by the elderly patient's sweaty pale face and the way she coughed with splatters of blood appearing on her handkerchief that she was ill with consumption. It was a common disease and most, if not all, of the infirmed on this ward were sick with it. Of all the afflictions mankind suffered from, consumption claimed more than smallpox, measles, typhus, and whooping cough combined.
The Irish song came to an end as the hunter pulled his hat low over his face and seated himself next to a sleeping patient. Here he could listen and observe without being noticed. What he heard was not the conversation he expected, nor did he anticipate seeing the old woman smile up at the 'angel' or take hold of her hand. Her voice was low and strained as she spoke of her home back in Ireland where her husband was buried and her six children and three grandchildren. Her tired eyes momentarily twinkled as she shared her hope for more in the future.
"Then you will have to get well so you can play with them," the 'angel' said, trying to lift her spirits. Hearing the voice, Alex immediately knew it was the woman from the church and his brow furrowed at the thought that he had failed to save her soul. With a heavy sigh he bowed his head low and continued to listen to their conversation.
"Ah, lass, I know I will not be here to see them," the old woman answered sadly. "I hope to watch them from heaven someday. If God will let me."
"Heaven . . ." the 'angel' echoed sadly, then quickly changed the subject. "You shouldn't worry about such things and instead concentrate on getting well so you can see those precious babies." The elderly patient only shook her head in response as a slight smile played on her lips.
"A body knows when God is calling them home, child, and I am anxious to be in that paradise and hold my Liam again," The words of the grandmother were weak and yet there was so much joy and hope ringing in them that there was almost a glow about her. It was obvious the cloaked woman could feel the peace and elation infirmed matron had because she bent lower and the old woman saw the unmistakable sadness that clouded her pretty face. "Oh come now, a young woman like you should not be so downcast. God has a wonderful future planned for you."
"Does he?" she answered, trying to hide her doubt and slight bitterness and failing.
"Do you not believe in God?"
"Not in the way that you do." The 'angel' answered with a slight sniff, then as a half-hearted jest she added. "I'm afraid he has abandoned me."
"Oh child," the elderly patient whispered. "He has never abandoned anyone. I know sometimes it feels that way, but you must remember that we are not promised happiness. He has been the greatest love of my life and carried me through the death of two babies and the loss of my sweet husband." She had very little strength but she managed to summon what she could and clutch the cloaked woman's hands in hers. Her breath became more labored, but she was determined to say what was on her heart. "G-God . . . h-has a p-plan . . . for . . . you."
The old woman's hands fell limp and her eyes grew empty as her body relaxed into death. The 'angel' reached over and closed her eyes then rose and took up her covered basket, then walked past the hunter and out of the ward. Alex rose as well and began to follow her, watching as she stopped a night doctor and informed him of the woman's death then paid for all of her medical bills. Outside the hospital he watched in wonder as she paused before a beggar lying in the street and gave him a few coins and some bread she had in her basket.
