IMPERIAL

PREFACE

Throughout history, within the confines of remote and intimate societies, populations have held stories of ghosts and supernatural beings walking amongst them. Passed down through shamans and then through village elders, these tales dissolve over time into nothing more than historical rumors. Losing any credibility as the distance between the events and the present widens.

Some stories become viewed as exaggerated superstitions, embellished with gore and horror, made ready for dark winter nights. But yet, even now, few superstitions continue to hold a more widespread dread than those which tell of the vampire’s existence.

All stories of vampires carry with them the notion that this mysterious blood-sucking ghost goes forth from its grave by night. Its task is to feast upon the warm flowing juices of the living. The beast becomes nourished and preserved in good condition, staving off its decomposition to roam for as long as its parasitic activity continues.

Hence, legends tell of events following the death of certain persons, when associates of the dead family became malnourished, pallid, and weak—running to their graves without delay. Reports were at once circulated that their demise owed itself to the influence of vampires. Indeed, sometimes, there were persons ready to affirm that they had seen the specter prowling for their victims.

Until the most recent events, Sherlock Holmes had no time for such suspicions. But now, after we confronted Dracula, perhaps the most notorious of vampires, and dispatched the creature at the hands of Quincey Harker, we have no doubts. Sherlock and I, Dr. John Watson, observed the most remarkable confrontation.

The battle, I should call it such, occurred within the southern machine room of London’s Tower Bridge. After, we all would emerge to return to 221B Baker Street. I contain a detailed event report in my record of the ‘Lifeblood’ case.

The following account records our further adventures in the ‘Imperial’ case.

Dr. John Watson