Clarissa gasped. Here in her hands she held the answers to all of her questions. She skimmed the next few pages, which detailed her childhood and that of her unknown brother Louis, until she came to an entry very different from the rest, written in a shaky, erratic hand. The date was twelve years after the creation of her and Louis.
"March 25, 18--. The Boy has turned -- has killed my wife -- will probably kill me. Have sent Clarissa away to live with peasant family. Perhaps she will not undergo the changes I have observed in Boy. Have been sheltered by the monks for the last week; still It found me. The others have all fled -- I am alone --
"I hear the door being torn down below. It is in. Not much time -- I will die at Its hands unless I can kill It. Can it be done? Is the Thing truly immortal, or can It be murdered? -- I hear It in the corridor -- "
The rest of the book was blank.
Suddenly the door behind Clarissa slammed shut. Her lantern nearly went out as she picked it up and whirled around. She screamed as she caught sight of the terrible monster before her; she realized in horror that this must be Louis, her brother and her father's other experiment. It shambled toward her, grinning and muttering to itself in nonsense syllables. It pulled a hand from behind its back, revealing a long cruel knife. Clarissa screamed again as she caught sight of the ancient blood staining the blade.
"Remember youuuu... yessss, yessss..." it jabbered, waving the knife. "Knew you'd come back, oh yesss... can't let you escape..."
Clarissa cowered in the corner, one arm out in front of her, as though to ward it off. She still clutched the lantern in the outstretched hand. The monster caught sight of the fire and jumped back, hissing.
She waved the lantern and the hideous thing shrieked. She got up and rushed towards it; it recoiled from the flame. She hurled the lantern at it and ran. As she found another staircase and thundered down, she heard it shout in rage and begin to pursue her. She ran out the doorway into the cold night. Finding no cover, she turned and faced the monastery.
The monster appeared silhouetted against an upper-story window, a living tower of flame. It leapt through the glass and fell heavily to the ground. It did not move.
Clarissa picked up a stick from teh ground and lit one end of it from her tinderbox. Brandishing her makeshift torch, she approached the monster. When it lay still and did not move, she jabbed it with the flaming branch. Fresh fire spread up its already charred torso; still it did not move. Clarissa watched it burn until it was a pile of ash and bones.
She turned and began walking quickly from the ruins and the body. The monastery she had sought for a hundred years -- a hundred years during which she had remained 18 years of age -- receded into the distance as she made her way back to Kinsale. Finally she had the answer to her question. Finally, after a century of waiting, a century of wondering, she knew she could die.