Welcome to Blood of the Vampire. At any time you may type "help" or refer to the menukey at the bottom of the screen for a list of basic commands that you can use. However, new unlisted commands may be learned as the game progresses. Be sure to type directions in lowercase as shown in "help" section and copy the names of items exactly as presented in text.
Type directions in lowercase. Copy the names of items as presented in text. Replace italicized words.
description: redisplays the initial description of the area
examine object: looks at the specified item or person for clues
take object: takes the specified object and puts it in your inventory
give object to person: gives the specified object to the specified person
inventory: lists everything you are currently carrying
unlock door with object: unlocks door with the object you specify
answer number to thing: answer a question asked by someone or in response to something
go direction: travel in the direction entered
leave place/person: attempts to leave a conversation or room
answer number to thing: answer a question asked by someone or in response to something
You are Harriet Brandt. You wake to find yourself on a
hotel room bed, the same
hotel, you assume, where you and your new husband, Tony, were staying on your
honeymoon in Italy. The room is well furnished, but cold as the fire has gone out.
Or you think it must be cold. You actually don’t feel much of anything.
Sliding out of bed you look around and notice a tall mirror
in the corner by the
wardrobe, a note that has fallen to the floor near the
bed, and a corpse lying on
the bed…your corpse.
It’s then you remember: Tony is dead. And you took a
deadly dose of chloral in hopes of joining him.
The hallway you enter stretches the length
of the building, about half a block, and is as well furnished as
the chamber you just left with a rich runner carpet
covering its well-worn boards.
Clustered near a table draped in cloth
and decorated with fresh flowers are three young women,
maids in the hotel.
They are whispering together.
Farther down the hall, you see another
woman dressed in a nun’s
habit sitting in a chair with her head lowered.
You exit the hotel to find yourself on a city
street. Quickly, you realize you
are not in Italy at all. You are back in London. There is no reasonable explanation
for this. You find it disorienting and comforting at the same time. The notorious
London Fog, generated by the city's many factories, is especially stifling to you
and casts a shade like twilight over the area, making the gas lamps on the street
necessary to see by, even though it appears to be midday. You can't see anyone
or anything of note or familiarity. Perhaps you should keep going.
If you go forward you will enter the
small park which sits across from the hotel, large houses are to
the right and shops to the
left.You can always try going
back
into the hotel.
A silvery figure glides over to you;
it appears to be a spirit!
You barely hear it whisper, “Help me.” For a moment you wonder
what it means, then recall you have a certain power.
You know you can drain
life… you wonder if perhaps you can
fill it up as well.
(You have gained a new ability Fill. To give some
of your own energy up to empower others type: fill person)
The notorious fog has yet to lift from the city
street and continues to casts
a shade like twilight over the area, the gas lamps are your only source of
illumination. You still can not see anyone or anything of note or familiarity.
You decide it is best to leave this place.
If you go forward you will enter the
small park which sits across from the hotel, large houses are to
the right and shops to the
left.You can always try going
back
into the hotel.
A silvery figure glides over to you;
it appears to be a spirit!
You barely hear it whisper, “Help me.” For a moment you wonder
what it means, then recall you have a certain power.
You know you can drain
life… you wonder if perhaps you can
fill it up as well.
The notorious fog has yet to lift from the city
street and continues to casts
a shade like twilight over the area, the gas lamps are your only source of
illumination. You still can not see anyone or anything of note or familiarity.
You decide it is best to leave this place.
If you go forward you will enter the small park
which sits across from the hotel, large houses are to
the right and shops to the
left.You can always try going
back
into the hotel.
The houses on this affluent street are imposing, stretching up several stories.
Their windows are dark and shadowy figures move up and down the foggy street,
illuminated only by the street lamps and a vague impression of daylight
from above. You recognize two of the houses.
Going forward will take you to
your friend, Margaret Pullen’s house. The house
on the right belongs to Dr. Phillips.
Heading
left will take you back to the main street.
This street is a part of a shopping district. It is full of shadowy
figures wandering up and down, stopping at windows, and going in and out,
purchases in hand. The stench of the river is strong, but not overpowering,
and the fog hangs over everything. The gas lamps
cast eerie balls of light like wil-o-wisps in the gloom. There is a
restaurant, a bakery,
a dress shop, and a
flower shop nearby.
Heading right will take you back to the main street.
Once inside the park, the path diverges left
and right and continues
forward. There is a large
fountain in the middle of the park.
Main street is at your back.
On the left side of the park, you see a
statue surrounded by
shrubs and flowers.
The right side of the park has a large
oak tree with a
bench underneath.
Once inside the park,
the path diverges left and right and continues straight.
There is a large fountain in the middle with several cherubs frolicking.
To the right, a large tree and a bench. To the left, a statue and flower beds.
Straight ahead, there is a platform on which a woman stands.
A small crowd gathers…
As the suffragette
addresses the crowd you take note of the people
around you. To your left two women
speak to one another in hushed tones.
Next to you a man and woman appear to be
engaed in a conversation.
Two men stand not far
behind you and farther back you can spy a
woman. Near the end of
the park you can just make out an indistiguisable
duo.
The park entrance is at your back.
Once inside the park,
the path diverges left and right and continues straight.
There is a large fountain in the middle with several cherubs frolicking.
To the right, a large tree and a bench. To the left, a statue and flower beds.
Straight ahead, there is an empty platform.
A small crowd is milling around.
The park entrance is at your back.
Margaret’s house is quite large with steps
leading forward to the
front door past a small garden, whose flowering
plants are
thriving and orderly.
Margaret’s house is opulent with
crown moldings, ball-in-claw furniture, fresh flowers,
and an elaborate staircase in the foyer. A silver tray
on the foyer table holds several neatly stacked
calling cards.
To the right is Margaret’s parlor.
To the left, the library.
Forward down the hallway is the
kitchen. Upstairs,
are bedrooms.
The parlor is beautifully furnished in bright, but not garish,
colors. The drapes are thick and have been pulled over the
windows. Margaret sits on a
fainting couch. A maid
stands close by.
The kitchen is chaotic with vegetables piled on the counter,
bags of spices spilling or half-tied, and a haze of smoke
from the fire. The cook bustles,
fretting over a pot of
water on the stove, opening the oven to peer in, and talking
to herself. A tea tray sits on the counter, the only orderly
object in the room. The pantry door stands ajar.
Another maid is rifling
through the cupboards. A butler stands
off by the side.
The kitchen is chaotic with vegetables piled on the counter,
bags of spices spilling or half-tied, and a haze of smoke
from the fire. The cook bustles,
fretting over a pot of
water on the stove, opening the oven to peer in, and talking
to herself. A tea tray sits on the counter, the only orderly
object in the room. The pantry door stands ajar.
A butler stands
off by the side.
The kitchen is chaotic with vegetables piled on the counter,
bags of spices spilling or half-tied, and a haze of smoke
from the fire. The cook bustles,
fretting over a pot of
water on the stove, opening the oven to peer in, and talking
to herself. A tea tray sits on the counter, the only orderly
object in the room. The pantry door stands ajar.
Another maid is rifling
through the cupboards.
The kitchen is chaotic with vegetables piled on the counter,
bags of spices spilling or half-tied, and a haze of smoke
from the fire. The cook bustles,
fretting over a pot of
water on the stove, opening the oven to peer in, and talking
to herself. A tea tray sits on the counter, the only orderly
object in the room. The pantry door stands ajar.
The library smells of worn paper and cigar smoke. The shelves
holding the volumes run from floor to ceiling and are made of dark,
polished wood. Mr. Pullen is at his
desk and is looking through the day’s mail. He pauses over one
letter in particular.
You ascend the ornately carved wooden staircase and find
yourself in a long hallway with a runner
carpet and
dimly lit by lamps.
This was clearly once the baby’s room,
though it has not been
opened in a long time. The room is spacious, with enough room
for several children, more like a nursery than just a bedroom.
Dolls
and toys line the shelves,
and a crib stands near the
window where the light, already muted by the fog outside,
barely streams through.
Dr. Phillips’s house is one of the
smaller ones on this block. The wrought iron gate creaks on its hinges in a
light wind from off the river. The breeze does little to dispel
the fog. Looking forward there is a
sign on the gate reading “Physician, F.R.C.P.”
It seems that Dr. Phillips works from his own home.
Dr. Phillips’s house is one of the
smaller ones on this block. The wrought iron
gate creaks on its hinges in a
light wind from off the river. The breeze does little to dispel
the fog. Looking forward there is a
sign on the gate reading “Physician, F.R.C.P.”
It seems that Dr. Phillips works from his own home.
You enter the house of Dr. Phillips.
It is small and simply furnished. You expected it to smell of
formaldehyde at the very least, but you smell nothing.
You wonder if it is because you are not alive.
The parlor of this house
has been converted into a cramped
reception area with worn furniture.
A receptionist sits at a desk.
To the left is the examining room,
upstairs leads to the
doctor's bedroom.
The man and woman have left the office. The
assistant has returned to
the reception area and dismisses the
receptionist with a wave of
his hand without even bothering to see if she responds.
The room is empty.
The examining room is just a small office room.
A woman sits on a
loveseat while a man
anxiously stands obsessively fidgeting with his
pocket watch in the corner. The doctor’s
assistant is
reading over his notes. No one is speaking.
The examining room is just a small office room.
There is a loveseat against one wall and a
desk covered in several instruments and
notes.
The upstairs living area is orderly in its way.
The furniture is decent and well kept and the
place is clean enough. It appears that the
doctor does his
work at the dining table, which is small,
but sturdy. On the table you see a
newspaper, an
opened letter,
and an open book.
When you enter the hotel, you see… well,
not the hotel. This is not a room. This
is not anyplace. Then you hear a voice:
You are in between.
Don’t you recognize me? … I am your
mother.