Free Adduné - the Vampire's Game by Wendy Potocki

nightmare. It had badly frightened him and because it had, the bad dream had blossomed into a recurring nightmare. Those were the worst kind for you didn’t feel in control and they robbed you of sleep. Without sleep, you couldn’t be clear-headed and if you weren’t clear-headed, you could start to believe all sorts of things.
     
    It all made sense. Reginald had no doubt that that was all that happened. He’d have another talk to Figgs. He’d make sure the bad dreams ended this afternoon. He’d send Figgs and his wife on a nice vacation. A week in the sun would do him a world of good. Distancing Figgs from the source of his nightmares would get rid of them. Once he discovered they didn’t follow him to pricey resorts, he’d calm down.
     
    Reginald threw down the mitt and wiped his hands absent-mindedly on his woolen trousers. He just needed to find out if he had a preference of tropical locations.
     
    “ Sorry, William. Your wife’s stew deserved better than this,” he said turning around. “Now in terms of this job. It occurred to me that you haven’t had a vacation in a long, long time, so …”
     
    William Figgs was gone – the envelope left on the table. Reginald saw the door was open. He must have bolted. Reginald gave chase out the door and saw Figgs walking away at a rapid pace.
     
    “ William! William please come back here! We need to talk!” He saw his pleading wasn’t working. He hadn’t even had time to talk to him about the vacation. He tried again, “Willliam! At least come back for your check! It’s yours! William, please!”
     
    Figgs ignored the excuses designed to get him back into that house. They merely ignited his desire to get away. Figgs’ stride lengthened and quickened until he was running – headed towards his home located on the other side of the small wooded area that rimmed the manor’s backyard. His close proximity was another reason Arthur had chosen him for the caretaker’s position. Figgs lived nearby and always chose to walk rather than use his car. He had said in the past how much he enjoyed the stroll. Refreshing was how’d he’d described it. Reginald doubted he’d phrase it that way anymore.
     
    He gave his clean hands a final rub on the sides of his hips. He wondered if Figgs would ever come back. Not that he blamed him. Reginald might have done the same thing under the circumstances. What with the combination of being scared out of his mind by such sordid dreams and the revealing of such personal information, it must have been unnerving and embarrassing.
     
    Reginald walked back inside the kitchen. He shut the door and made sure it was locked by using the newly-installed deadbolt. If it were an intruder entering the house, he wouldn’t get in this way. He stared at the envelope on the table trying to figure what to do next. There was something in his memory that was triggered by what Figgs had said. Something about that 19 th century collection. Something that Arthur had said … or done. Reginald couldn’t remember, but if it was important it would come to him. Reginald’s body may have slowed down a beat due to age, but none of his mental faculties had been impaired or compromised. Information, names, numbers took their time getting to him now, but they got there. That was the main thing.
     
    Reginald picked up the envelope and placed it back into his pocket. He’d make sure Figgs received it. He’d put it in the mail. Figgs was in no position to be turning down money. He wasn’t wealthy and most likely would find it coming in handy. He was sure he’d feel differently if accepting the check didn’t have to be done in person. He’d also put in a nice letter letting him know the position was still open if he changed his mind. He’d add a bit about the vacation. After all, he’d earned one. Most of all, he wanted to assure Figgs that his story hadn’t tainted Reginald’s good opinion about him. That was important. It was only a bad dream