SFF: The Demon of Mysore (Chapter 1)
Title: The Demon of Mysore
Summary: Helen encounters a violent abnormal and finds love after Druitt on her first trip to India in 1896.
Rating: Teen
Category: Adventure/Romance
Characters: Helen Magnus, James Watson, Other
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary or its characters and am making no profit in my playtime with them.
Author's Note: This fic, which may take awhile for me to finish btw, is a sequel to "Doing Time," and is an historical fiction set in 1896. The Kingdom of Mysore, Sir Stuart Fraser, the Maharaja Krishna, Krishna's mother the Regent, and Helen's soon-to-be love interest, Raghavendra, were all real people living in the Stately Principality of Mysore ca. 1896. The demon from Hindu mythology is a real story from that faith as well. After that, everything else is pretty much made up :) I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you'd like to see it continue! Peace.-NCS
The Demon of Mysore
(copyright 2010, NoCleverSig)
Chapter 1
The Palace of Lokaranjan had 78 rooms, 438 pieces of ancient Hindu art, 39 European tapestries, 28 murals gilded in gold, and an 11-year-old boy who was one of the wealthiest "men" in the world.
"Amazing," Helen Magnus said, looking around her, blue eyes wide.
"Isn't it?" replied Sir Stuart Fraser. Fraser was a member of the British government in India attached to the Stately Principality of Mysore, one of only a handful of Indian states that bore some semblance of independence from the British Empire.
"This is your first time in India, Dr. Magnus?" Fraser inquired.
"It is," she said, stopping in the hall to admire a stone carving of what looked to be a Hindu god. "My father visited several times and spoke most enthusiastically about it. I think I understand why now."
Fraser smiled, his aristocratic good looks and statesmanlike charm quite evident. "Indeed. Even after all my time here…Hyderbaad, Kohlapur, Bhavnagar, and now Mysore, it never tires me. This country, this culture, it is singularly unique in the world. Wouldn't you agree James?"
"Oh, absolutely," said Watson. He'd stopped next to Helen to examine the ancient sculpture. "Tell me, Stuart, this statute of Vishnu. Is it 1,800 or 1,900 years old?"
"Roughly 2,000, James. You must be off your game." Fraser teased. Fraser was one of Watson's oldest friends. The two had met at boarding school in Blundell and had maintained a friendship and correspondence ever since.
Watson smiled. "Still recuperating from the travel old boy, give me time."
Helen laughed. "Yes, Sir Fraser, give James another hour or so and he'll tell you not only the date the statue was carved but the day of the week and its maker." Helen smiled teasingly at Watson.
"Well, perhaps not the day of the week. But I can certainly calculate it if needed." He winked.
"I'm sure you can, James, I'm sure you can. And please, Dr. Magnus. Call me Stuart."
"Thank you, Stuart. Likewise, please call me, Helen."
"Helen it is." Fraser smiled at her. Watson raised an eyebrow. Helen rolled her eyes. Watson had been needling her for some time now to "move on" as he'd phrased it in her personal relationships, specifically her relationships with men. And any time a member of the opposite sex so much as said two words to her, James eagerly encouraged a liaison. It was a running joke between them. And it might have been funny had it not been that six years ago John Druitt, Helen's fiancé and Watson's friend, had been revealed as Jack the Ripper. The scars for Helen ran deep. And despite her courage to capture and assist Abnormals throughout the world with her new "Sanctuary" in London, loving and trusting another man in any kind of intimate way was a fear she had yet to conquer.
"So, Stuart," Watson asked, ignoring Helen's exasperated look. "You wrote in your letter that you needed our help? Yet you were decisively vague on the specifics."
"Yes, James, I was. My apologies for that. It's just that, shall we say, 'court intrigues' are such that one must be most careful what is placed in writing."
James accepted Stuart's explanation with a nod. "We've been friends a long time, Stuart. When you asked Helen and I to come help with a 'situation' as you phrased it, well let's just say I know you well enough to know there must be gravity in the matter."
Stuart nodded. "There is, James, there is." Stuart stopped them in the hallway, looked around, and motioned for them to follow him. After passing through several doors and what looked to be servants' quarters, they emerged in a small alcove between the main building and the palace gardens.
Fraser took a hasty look around to make sure no one was near, motioned Helen and James to come closer, and began his explanation, his voice low.
"Ten months ago, a series of murders started happening outside the city. At first it appeared as though it were an animal attack of some kind, sad certainly, but not completely unheard of. Tiger attacks have been known to occur here from time to time, especially along the edges of the Chumandi Mountains."
"Why was it presumed to be an animal attack? What did the bodies look like?" Magnus asked.
Fraser looked at Watson, unsure as to how much detail he should provide in the company of a lady.
Watson smiled. "It's fine, Stuart. Helen is a physician and has seen more than her fair share of gore."
Fraser nodded and turned to Magnus. "The victims had been torn apart, Helen. Quite literally. Claw marks and teeth marks were identified on the bodies and some…" He glanced at Watson again. "Some had been partially eaten."
Helen nodded, taking in the data. Her face was flush from the Indian heat and her blond curls moistened on her forehead and her neck from the humidity outside.
" Certainly sounds like an animal of some kind," Watson agreed.
"Indeed, but then the attacks began happening more often and closer to the city. In the past three months there have been five deaths, all within the city of Mysore itself and one," he paused, "One just outside the palace gates."
"Has anyone seen the animal? Located tracks?" Helen asked.
"Oh yes, there were tracks. Giant paws, very much like a tiger were found in several locations."
"Well, there's your logical explanation, Stuart. Maneaters are rare, but they have been known to occur," Watson suggested.
"True, James. And if that had been the only evidence, I would not have bothered to bring you all the way from London. However, not long after the second attack, rumors began among the villagers that the killer wasn't an animal at all but something else…Mahishasura himself reborn."
"Mahishasura?" Helen turned to Watson. "I've heard that name before. He's a Hindu god of some kind. A demon?"
Fraser nodded. "Generally, yes. According to Hindu belief, Mahishasura was originally king of Mysore. He had been gifted with invincibility from Brahma, god of creation, for his devotion to him. Neither gods nor humans could kill him. Mad with power, he and his army drove the gods from heaven and waged war on earth. Not knowing how else to defeat him, the gods created their own being to match his power, the goddess Chamundi, who finally defeated Mahishasura in battle and ended his reign of terror."
"So the villagers believe their former king, this demon, walks the earth again?" Helen asked.
"In a manner, yes. And given that the murders began when His Royal Highness the Maharaja Krishnarja IV began his rule, and I came here to tutor him and serve as British administrator, well," Fraser paused. "The timing is unfortunate to say the least."
"Unfortunate, and potentially politically deadly to the young Maharaja's power," Watson deduced.
Fraser nodded. "And to Britain's authority here as well as Her Majesty's interests."
"I think I understand now why you asked us to come," Helen said.
"Not just me. The Maharaja himself requested your presence. He's heard of your…exploits, shall we say. He's a remarkable young man. Quite brilliant, actually. He's looking forward to meeting you tonight at dinner."
Watson folded his arms, his brow creased in thought. Helen recognized the look. He'd noticed something. Something she'd missed.
"There's something you haven't told us, Stuart. There's a piece of the puzzle that's missing. What is it? If we're to help, we need to know everything."
They both turned to Fraser. He looked upset. Beads of sweat, not just from the heat, lined his forehead.
"There were two eyewitnesses to the attacks," he said slowly. "One was a local man, a jewelry maker. He heard a noise the night his neighbor was killed, a growling sound that woke him from his sleep. He said he went to his window and saw a tiger, a white tiger, enter his neighbor's home and kill him. But when he saw the animal come out," Fraser paused, obviously shaken. "He wasn't a tiger anymore."
"What did he mean? What did he see?" Helen asked
"A man. A man with tiger's eyes."
Helen and James looked at each other.
"And the second witness, what did he see?" Watson probed.
Fraser drew a deep, shaky breath. "A tiger as well, glowing white in the moonlight. But when he turned around…." Stuart stopped, unable to continue.
Magnus looked at Watson, puzzled. James looked back at his friend, and then laid a hand on Fraser's shoulder for comfort.
"What Stuart? What did you see?" Watson asked gently, knowing from Fraser's manner that Stuart himself had witnessed the attack.
Stuart gulped, his eyes hollow with fear, then looked up at his friend. "I saw human eyes, James. Not a tiger's. Not an animal's. Human eyes. I swear upon the Holy Bible itself," he said, shaking.
Helen took Stuart's hand to steady him.
"Stuart, this demon, this Mahishasura, you said he was invincible, yes?" Helen said softly.
The question seemed to shake Fraser out of the terrifying memory. "Yes. Yes, that's the legend."
"Did he have any other ability? In folklore or religion, demons often have very distinctive gifts or powers beyond just physical strength."
Fraser thought for a moment, and then nodded his head. "Mahishasura's father was an Asura, a kind of god, but…" Stuart stopped, a sudden look of realization on his face.
"But his mother was a water buffalo," Watson finished, recalling his Hinduism. "He could change from human to animal at will."
James shot Helen a look, and she nodded.
"It appears the game is afoot, Watson." Helen said flatly.
James sighed. "I hate it when you say that."
She winked at him. "I know."
to be continued...