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Chapter Text

'By 1899, the age of vampires and their hunters was at an end.' 

Arthur woke up in a cold sweat, jolting awake to the sound of Dutch and Molly arguing in the room beside him, the thin wall allowing for Molly's voice to travel into his room enough for Arthur to hear the desperation hid in her voice. "Goddamnit, already?" He mumbled as he pulled himself up from the weathered mattress. Slowly Arthur dressed himself, buttoning his trousers and slipping into his black shirt. It was evening but in the business of vampire hunting it was best to adjust yourself to their timetable so for the gang the setting sun was what the rising was to most. 

Following the staircase to the lobby, the gangs common quarters, he adjusted his red vest and matching tie, he had never been one for preening but Dutch had a brand. "Arthur!" Mary-Beth exclaimed excitedly as he entered the lobby. Getting up she quickly ran over, clasping his hand in her own. "Oh, Arthur! You wouldn't believe it, me and the other gal's all day we've been sent on a wild goose chase but we think we got something, we think we got something real good!" Mary-Beth practically squealed as she lead Arthur to where Tilly and Karen where sat together on some old dusty lounge chairs.

"What is it?" He chuckled slightly, sitting down at a chair.

"Well we was at the general store, with Pearson, getting some supplies when we saw some writing on the wall outside, uh-" Tilly begun, reaching for a piece of paper on the coffee table, unfurling it before continuing, reading off it. "Five bones under the perfect star Nosferatu with Dominica will become mortal again, which we thought was odd but could mean nothing." 

"But then on the way back while Pearson was loading up the wagon," Karen said, flicking through the newspaper. "We looked at the paper and saw this number, here." Catching the paper after Karen slid it across the table, Arthur opened it up, skimming over the article as she spoke. "So this detective, Martin? Moore- Mason, detective Mason." 

"Is he a Pinkerton?" Arthur questioned. A.Mason, an anonymous journalist of sorts had taken pictures of the crime scene, a vampire they hadn't reached and speculated what happened, interviewing witnesses, all that jazz. 

"Nope, he's independent, least from what we could tell." Answered Tilly, Arthur nodded understandably. 

"So we saw in Mason's photo there's this creepy writing above the victim saying some like 'Blood of the nape, sweet- blood blah blah.. But it's the exact same as we saw outside the store, the handwriting." Mary-Beth continued, far too cheerfully considering the situation. "So then we went looking, I found writing, Karen did, Tilly found two! All where the previous vampire victims where.." 

"We wrote them all down and tried to put them together and this is what we've come up with. Five bones under the perfect star Nosferatu with Dominica will become mortal again. Oh sweetest of napes may your blood remain forever on my lips six there will be before the lust is sated. With one long kiss I draw the life from her and await the outpost of the advancing day. I feed again the blood of life. The circle has begun. I drink from the maiden and live again in dead . The heart of the ring of blood."

"So, he needs six victims for whatever he's doing but he's only taken five and look, if you connect the locations on a map you get a star." Tilly concluded, all three girls looking proud of themselves. Arthur raised a brow, surprised but impressed.

"You sure you ain't overthinking it?" He questioned, causing all three to groan and sigh dismissively.

"Arthur!" Karen scolded.

"What?" He chuckled slightly.

"Just go check this alleyway tonight, you might catch him." Mary-Beth pleaded. 

"Alright, alright. I'll check it out." Arthur said, taking the map they circled the location on and standing up. "See y'all later." He hummed, taking his hat, black with a red ribbon band and stepping outside. 

Riding down the streets of Saint Denis was no easy feat, especially when you had a horse as big and dumb as Bennie. Hosea had gifted Bennie, a stolen black shire, to Arthur so he could sell it but Arthur found himself growing fond of Bennie (and the money in his pocket) and decided to keep the brute. Loyal and as dumb as a dog. They rode down the street but as they rode past the saloon Arthur couldn't help but indulge the curiosity itching at him. Hitching Bennie outside and retrieving his hat when the horse stole it Arthur then came to the saloon door, nervously pushing it open.

There where men playing poker, drinking themselves into stupidity at the bar and the usual 'charming' antics of the Saint Denis saloon but that wasn't why he came. Slowly he went upstairs, dodging a few drunken men and prostitutes on his way up. Upstairs the women would've beckoned him to bed if they hadn't recognized him, with a sigh one red headed girl pointed to the balcony door. Arthur took a moment, adjusting himself before he pushed the door open, the cold air was sweeping but no sensation compared to when his eyes met hers. Mary, beauty incarnate. The streetlight was like her own spotlight, highlighting her as the brightest star in the dark of the night. "Oh, Arthur!" She breathed, her voice a melodic tune. 

"Mary." He responded, removing his hat from his head and praying the dark hid his red face.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, almost hopefully. 

"Well, I-... I don't really know, I suppose I just wanted to see you, see how you're holding up." The vampire hunter answered, bashfully.

"Should we rent a room?" Mary cooed, a hand raising to touch Arthurs chest. "I've missed you, Arthur. I really have." 

"No Mary I'm busy, I got work." He answered, hand lowering hers. 

"You're still doing that- that. Oh what was I thinking? You'll never change." Mary said, pushing the balcony door opening a storming back into the saloon, leaving Arthur watching in her wake. The sway of her hips, the curl of her smile. Shaking his head Arthur followed suit. He'll never change. 

Back on Bennie Arthur rode to the location, getting off he was able to stop Bennie from stealing his hat again before he slowly stepped to the alley way, three lit candles lighting his way. At a fork in the dark, damp alley he turned left and there he saw it. A weedy pale man, hunched unnaturally over a corpse, sucking from the poor factory workers neck. It's spine jutted out, a boney line down it's back, Arthur could see it's long spindly fingers, gripping onto the victims oil stained overalls. The creatures ear perked and he slowly turned his sickly face to Arthur, blood still dripping from his mouth. "So... You found me!" He snarled, holding the collar of the worker tighter.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Arthur questioned, finger tracing over the tools in his belt before settling on the wooden stake.

"Stay back, for your own sake. I walk with the undead!" The creature responded, letting go of the man and straightening himself up, head tilted too far as it sized up Arthur. 

"So what, you're a vampire. I ain't scared of you." The vampire hunter responded with a huff, looking up to the creature whose height rivaled his. 

"I have been called many names over the centuries. Now go, or I'll  feed on you too.." The creature said, turning it's back as it connected it's grey crusted lips to the mans wound once more. 

"You're just a fool, an old fool in need of liberation." Arthur shook his head, repeating the line he had heard from Dutch countless times past before running to the creature. A short pathetic fight as he caught it off guard, sinking his dagger into the creatures heart and watching it writhe and curse until it stiffened, mouth agape and body limp. Grunting Arthur lifted the creature onto a stack of crates, high enough for the morning rays to hit and disintegrate it'd body before the factory workers arrived. Leaving the mans body behind after a brief payment of respect Arthur climbed upon Bennie, riding back to the hotel. 

Chapter Text

The Night Folk weren't necessarily Arthur's problem to deal with, feral serviteurs to an Houngan Hosea had been trying to track for decades now but an outbreak of vamperism within their numbers had caused a complete shift in dynamics.

Arthur somewhat knew the Night Folk, he knew he not to go poking at hanging bodies they left, he knew not to touch them, their things or get too close lest he catch a stray curse. But Arthur tried to be a good man when he could. A woman's soft, choked sobs echoed through the damp bayou air, deep within the bayou. Arthur raised his lantern in the direction of the woman's cries, squinting his eye trying to focus but he couldn't see her, she must be further. Exactly where the gators, or worse, the night folk would want her. "Stay 'ere boy." He whispered to Bennie, dismounting into the thick mud. Lifting his lantern and walking forwards Arthur searched for the woman, her wails and the sound of his boots squelching in the mud the only sounds in the thick atmosphere. "Ma'am?" He called softly in effort to not startle her but also in an attempt to beckon her forth. "Ma'am it ain't safe here, not alone. Not at night." Pushing past low hanging mud covered vines he saw her, curled into herself in the mud, her chemise practically glowing in the dark of night. He could see movement in the water near her paired with an alligators deep bellow. "Miss, we have to go, it ain't safe here. I'll take you home." Arthur cooed, stepping closer and reaching a hand to the woman's shoulder he wondered why she was alone, was she lost? A run-away? Or was she sent away? No matter what he couldn't leave her alone out here, she would die within minutes unarmed. "Where're you from.. Saint Denis? Lagras? I can- Oh SHIT!" Arthur exclaimed, his voice breaking as he slapped the woman away, she turned her face to face him, bloodshot sunken eyes boring deep into his, her face was hollowed, pale and blood stained, her wails turning to laughter as she reached to slash him with her long grimy nails. 

Arthur pushed the woman off of himself, reaching for the revolver on his hip as the night folk around slowly revealed themselves. The girl writhed on the ground, body contorting in painful and uncanny ways as she clawed at the mud. "Jesus Christ!" He could see five piercing green eyes staring at him from the darkness. He gasped for air, chest rapidly rising and falling as he shot blindly at the figures, having difficultly trying to discern them from the trees. One fell, a bullet shooting through his heart, and two growled and snarled as Arthur shot their limbs. Suddenly the four still standing ran at Arthur, chasing him through the bayou as he clumsily ran, shooting at them as he desperately whistled for Bennie. The creatures moved silently behind him but he knew they were there, arrows whistled through the air until he shot the grotesque thing that wielded a bow, one pounced him pushing him down into the mud and climbing atop of him, his gun falling out his hand and down, just out of reach of Arthurs hand to reach. A mixture of drool and blood dripped from the creatures mouth as it reached to straggle Arthur, writhing he pulled away, pushing the thing far enough away for him to be able to reach his gun and poured half the magazine into it's skull and the rest into the final creature left standing. Arthur pulled himself up, winded and panting as he whistled for Bennie once more, he turned back. One, the woman finally still on the ground. Two, the man he had shot in the heart. Three, the thing with the bow. Four, the one that pounced him. 

With a whinny Bennie came to Arthur, nudging him with his snout. Gripping the saddles horn, Arthur stuck his foot in the stirrup. Four?

In an instant the fifth revealed itself, jumping from a tree down in front of Bennie, spooking the horse and it's half mounted rider. Arthur quickly swung his leg over the other side of the saddle as Bennie reared and bolted. Steaming down the path until he brought himself and his rider to safety. Arthur never thought himself a man easily shaken, but the night folk? He certainly would never miss this cursed Bayou. After calming Bennie they rode forward. 

Small droplets of rain drizzled overtop of them, the glow of a campfire in the distance compelled Arthur to investigate. After checking from a distance that the man was in fact that, a man he came forward the man speaking to him before he could. "You a loon or somethin'? This night folk country, can't be wanderin' 'bout." The man said. He was an old man with a thick southern drawl to his voice and an even thicker grey beard (despite having little hair on his head), he wore mud stained overalls and a wide brimmed straw hat, a stark comparison to Arthurs fine clothes but they were both united by being caked in mud.

"Night folk? I can look after myself." Arthur responded, the man shook his head but accepted the younger mans answer, Arthur cleared his throat before continuing. "Maybe you should clear out though... if you're so troubled by... things of the night."

"They night folk! And I would it's just... they on my property." The man sighed before realizing something and looking up into Arthur's eyes as if taking a moment to read his character. "Hey.. W-Would you help me? Get 'em off? I'd pay ya, for your troubles." 

"Sure sir, I deal with creatures like this everyday for free." Arthur chuckles, waiting for the man to pack up his camp and lead him forth into his property where the night folk had taken it. 

"Alright, let's go." The old man said, cheerfully. Standing up and slinging a sack of his provisions over his back and pulling out his lantern, Arthur following suit. "It's just over there. You're a good man, partner." Arthur shook his head with a sigh, he was not a good man. "Them night folk would put me on a pike they got their paws on me. Hang me up on a hardwood hammock. Boy, I'm lucky I ain't dead as is. Night folk.... oh, they bad people. Bad folk. Animals, the lot of them! You know, I ain't ever heard no night folk speak." Arthur listened as the man spoke and lead him through the marsh, thinking back on his encounter. He hadn't heard them speak neither, snarl, growl, cry and laugh but not a spoken word, English or other. "There's not been one peep outta no night folk, not that I ain't heard at least. Imagine, not uttering a word. Can you fathom that? Mhmm, what kind of evil don't make no sound. It's bad alright, bad. I mean, I don't meet folk out here. On my own the most part, but I still speak, you know? I'll talk to myself ain't no one else around. Chew my own goddamn ear off." 

"I can imagine." Arthur responded, his first spoken word of their walk.

"Now, used to be the gators was the worst thing in the bayou... Gators and snakes." The man said, ignoring Arthur's sarcastic remark. "I been snake bit more times I like to remember. I ain't been gator bit though, not yet atleast. Got that to be thankful for at least. Gator bites is nasty." 

"Mhm.." Sighed Arthur.

"Them turtle bites is bad too. They call 'em snapping turtles for a reason." The man continued.

"Yeah well, I been known to snap too, so... how about we keep it down? Unless you have any information, on the night folk. I'm a vampire hunter you see so I'm not too knowledgeable on the night folk." 

"The night folk, well what they is- what they is has changed over the years. See I'm an old man now, when I was young, they was just feral people, swat 'em away my pa used too, well, with his gun but not too long ago.. They come different from the Shadow Man."  

"The Houngan?" Arthur questioned.

"Oh, no son. He ain't no Houngan. The Shadow Man uses VooDoo but he ain't no Houngan, he a bad man. He cursed them? Made a deal, I-I ain't sure. They was bad, then they was worse, now they even more." 

"Can you tell me about the er- 'Shadow Man'?" asked Arthur. 

"You don't mess with the Shadow Man, son. He a conman, a trickster, a conjurer with access to the dark side. Oh, he'll strike you up a deal, you take it and next you know you're souls been sold." The man responded, shaking his head. "You never say his real name, or he hears." 

"Well, what's his name?" 

"What about 'you never say his name' don't you understand, you fool." The man responded, slightly on edge. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What does he look like then?" Arthur asked, a compromise. Would be easier to know what he looks like then go hollering his name wherever he saw fit.

"Shorter than you, white man with a moustache, thick but it's ends curl up like little devil horns, he wears a big ol' hat and a suit and a tie. You know when you see him, that's for sure and- Hey! Damn bat's. Watch out, partner." The man said, getting interrupted by a small flock of bat's flying past them. Arthur turned back, watching as they flew, chirping in an almost conversation like manor. His hand subconsciously reached for his pistol. Better not be some damned vampires. "Don't you worry 'bout no bats. I'll tell you when you got to worry, alright?" The man said, chuckling as he noticed Arthurs grim expression. Before Arthur could respond, the man stopped walking, lifting his lantern to illuminate a mangled corpse strung onto a tree. "That ain't-aww, oh, I knew that feller. Good feller, damn night folk." He cursed and begun walking once more. "We close." Arthur lifted his lantern to the corpse, eye's travelling down the practically dismembered self, limps hanging by broken bones but he focused on the neck, two teeth marks. Damnnit, won't be the last time he saw this bastard, unless. he quickly pulled a vile of holy water from his satchel and doused the being, better that then the man seeing him drive a stake into it's heart. Arthur then quickly caught up to the man, before he could notice Arthurs absence. "And I guess that were it now. See what I mean? This night folk work. Lamps out now. They might not speak but they sure can see." Arthur and the man both snuffed their lights, from here Arthur could see a structure, the mans house, he assumes. "Now look out here, there gators 'round." 

"What a place to make your home.." Arthur remarks sarcastically, sarcasm the man doesn't seem to pick up on.

"It's nice, ain't it?" 

Silently the pair navigated the marsh, Arthur eyeing each alligator they pasted. "There we go, up there." The man said, pointing to his hut of a house. "Night folk up to all sorts." 

"You stay back here, partner. I'll deal with this." Arthur said, stepping closer to the house. Using a tree as cover he shot each from a distance, before they could get too close. They were allot easier to deal with when you where the one doing the sneaking, rather than the other way around. The man ran over to Arthurs side excitedly.

"Oh you got 'em, you sure did alright, this place is ours." He said, glancing down at one of the bodies. "Damn you, freaky bastard, damn you to hell!" He said before swiftly climbing up the steps to his house, Arthur following behind. "Come get your reward." He said, beckoning Arthur in as he rummaged through some shelves, stopping when they heard the sounds of snarling and footsteps outside. "Oh boy, oh boy. That's gotta be more of 'em..." The man said, peering out a window, with a sigh Arthur stepped out to the balcony, an tomahawk whizzing past his head and into the house, striking a bottle and causing it to shatter. Another quickly jumped the balcony, attempting to jump Arthur but the vampire hunter pushed it to the ground by it's collar and shot it in the head. Put 'em out of their misery, he could hear Dutch's voice tell him. Squatting down behind the ledge Arthur shot two of them, the final lone night folk running into the night, disappearing hopefully for good.

"That's gotta be them.." Arthur grunted, pushing the door opening and coming inside. "Okay, job done." 

"Well, well.. Okay. I got something for you now." The man said, handing Arthur a parcel. He looked down at it in his hand, confused he opened it up.

"What is this... Swamp trash?" He questioned 

"No, that's some of the good stuff, right there. You're a good man mister, damn decent." 

"I... wouldn't say that. You sure you're going to be okay?" 

"I'll be fine, son. Night folk won't come 'round here no more. They dumb, they ain't stupid." 

"Well, so long then." Arthur said, examining the thing in his hand as he stepped out the door. It wasn't a parcel, not a regular one, he slowly unraveled the muskrat pelt with a quizzical look on his face. He whistled for Bennie who came running as he squinted his eyes at what the muskrat pelt was holding... "Did this feller just give me his tooth?" He asked, looking between Bennie and the gold tooth he was now the not-so-proud-owner of. 

Never was he more grateful to be at camp after getting out the the bayou. Until immediately upon entering he was met with Miss Grimshaw storming towards him. "Arthur! Arthur Morgan can you- oh, your filthy." She scolded, looking at the mud soaked man as he took off his hat, hanging it on the stand before continuing. "Arthur I need you to go speak some sense into Mary-Beth, the stupid girl is involving herself with that O'Drisscoll boy  we got down in the basement." 

"Susan, how about Karen go speak to Mary-Beth, or you and I'll go speak it." Arthur offered, Miss Grimshaw sighed. 

"Well Karen is drinking herself dumb with Sean, idiots went looking for 'leads' and come back with crates of booze, but I suppose I'll try once more. Bill is already downstairs with that Kieran boy." Arthur nodded in agreement to Miss Grimshaws words before making his way to the staircase, catching a glimpse of Mary-Beth pouting on the balcony before he turned downstairs to the cellar where they had chained the O'Drisscoll boy up. Arthur had caught him and brought him back to camp after they ransacked and massacred an O'Drisscoll den, werewolves. Colm O'Drisscoll, the werewolf pack leader sounded as if he may be a friend to Dutch, both having a common enemy of the Vampires and all but the two and been in a feud for as long as Arthur could remember. Dutch killed Colm's brother, Colm killed Annabelle, the list of reasons each hated each other seemed to grow every single second of day. 

"What's wrong boy? What's got you so scared?" Bill taunted as he threatened Kieran with the gelding tongs.

"O'Drisscoll." Arthur yelled as he came down stairs. "What's the matter with you, huh? You stay away from the girls of this camp you hear me!" 

"I-I ain't done nothin' sir! Nothing at all!" Kieran yelped, Bill looked up confused.

"He done what now?" Bill asked. 

"Well from what I hear, you been bothering Miss Gaskill." Arthur questioned, pointing a finger to Kieran's face. 

"I ain't! I ain't! She brought me water, that's all! I didn't ask her too, she just came to me with a glass of water a-and-" Kieran attempted to explain, stuttering over his words and flinching away.

"I don't care 'bout what you have to say boy you listen to me and you listen to me good, ya hear? If I hear any sort of about you even speaking to Mary-Beth, or Tilly, or Karen, I will let Sadie do any of the number of horrific things she's been saying and trust me, you won't enjoy it one bit." 

"O-okay! Okay! I understand." He shrieked, shrinking away.

"Hello, boys." Dutch's voice boomed from the stairs as he joined the trio. "Oh? Is the dog ready to talk?" 

"I-I told ya. I told all of you. I don't know nothing, okay? They-they ain't no friends of mine, I just been ridden with them for a while." 

"Horseshit! You've told us your lies, we want the truth." Bill interrupted. "Dutch, what you want me to do." Glancing down at the gelding tongs in Bills hands Dutch smiled at Kieran charmingly. 

"Geld him, Mr Williamson, let's have some fun." 

"No, no!" Kieran cried out. "Okay, okay listen! I know w-where some O'Drisscoll's hold up and your right, he don't like you anymore than you like him. Their at some old ranch South-East of Rhodes. I'll take you there. Serious. I don't like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you, no offense." 

"None taken." Dutch chuckled. 

"Okay partner, how about you take a few of us up there right now." Arthur said, beginning to untie Kieran from his ropes.