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autolenaphilia · 1 year

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The Beast Within: A Gabriel Knight Mystery

The Beast Within: A Gabriel Knight Mystery from 1995 is the second Gabriel Knight adventure game, developed by Sierra and written and designed by Jane Jensen. The first was Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers

The most obvious change from the first game is that the pixel art graphics style has been replaced with Full motion video using live action footage of actors against 3D backgrounds. Unlike pixel art graphic adventure games, this is not a style that has seen much of revival (partly because it’s expensive) and makes this game seem very much of its time. Many of the FMV games from the 90s craze for the medium are not beloved either.

I won’t lie and say The Beast Within looks great today. The FMVs have a low resolution and are very grainy, as do the sprites of the characters outside of it. There is some dodgy CGI too. The end result looks like a 90s tv show uploaded to youtube in low quality.

Yet The Beast Within is in my opinion one of the FMV games that stand the test of time. And that is both due to gameplay and story.

For one thing, it’s actually a fairly traditional point-and-click adventure game, except the cutscenes and the character sprites are live action footage of actual actors, instead of animations. The FMV craze sometimes took the form of “interactive movies” in the mode of Dragon’s Lair, and didn’t have much actual gameplay. But The Beast Within is a fully fledged adventure game.

And it’s a good one. There is some pixel-hunting, but much less so than the first game, because this time the cursor changes to indicate an interactable hotspot. There are no complex system of verb commands either. The puzzles felt largely fair and reasonable, and I didn’t have to rely on hints much. And as far as I can tell, there are no dead-ends. There are sequences where you can die, but you are given the option to retry them from a checkpoint with no penalty. As far as gameplay goes, this is a pretty good adventure game that cuts down on the bullshit that especially Sierra perpetuated in the genre’s earlier days.

The story is the star in most adventure games, and this is no exception. I love the story of The Beast Within, despite its flaws.

It helps that the acting in the FMVs is far above the general reputation of FMV games. These actors are overall legit good and I don’t feel they hinder the story being told. If the acting is arguably bad sometimes it’s the good kind of “bad” acting: overacting. And it’s a gothic werewolf horror story, such camp fits the tone.

The game of course stars Gabriel Knight once again. He is now living in the castle of his ancestors, the Ritter family, in Bavaria. And he gets asked by the locals to investigate a series of murders, that seem to be committed by a werewolf. This being a horror game, it’s of course actually a werewolf. Once his friend Grace Nakimura learns about this, she decides to fly over to Bavaria from New Orleans to help, against Gabriel’s wishes. Grace is a playable character now, alternating with Gabriel. They conduct parallel investigations into the werewolf case.

Gabriel tries to find the werewolf killer in the present, and investigates the murders to find the killer. While Grace investigates the past, doing mainly historical research that she hopes will help identify the present-day werewolf.

It’s interesting how this game handles the idea of two American investigators working in a country in which they don’t entirely understand the language. Most of the game’s dialogue is in english, but there is a surprising amount of german. More than you expect from an American production. They got a translator to translate relevant dialogue by Jane Jensen into German, so it’s understandable. And especially with Gabriel, who barely knows any german (Grace has more basic knowledge and can form sentences), you get the sense of them being in a foreign country. They come across educated and/or younger people that speak fluent English, other german characters don’t and they’re stuck trying to figure it out. The pronunciation by the actors is however variable and heavily depends on the actor. Some are actual germans or have basic pronunciation knowledge, some clearly don’t. I appreciate the effort though, which does give some versmillitude to the game’s setting.

The roles of Gabriel and Grace have been recast. A decision which I understand. The original Gabriel Knight voice, Tim Curry doesn’t look anything like Gabriel Knight, even if his voice is the definitive one. And Leah Remini is not Japanese-American, like Grace is.

And the new actors give different takes, but ones which largely work. Dean Erickson plays a more awkward and less confident Gabriel than Curry’s in the first game. Perhaps he is humbled by his past experiences, and he is clearly not entirely comfortable in this new country in which he does not speak the language. It’s surprisingly endearing.

Joanne Takahashi as Grace is also fine. She is more let down by the writing than her actual acting skills. She is likeable enough, Grace is still the charismatic character I loved in the first game. But there is some really awkward character writing for her in a vain attempt to further the Gabriel/Grace relationship. It’s meant to be bickering friends who secretly love each other. And she is this tsundere character who says she hates Gabriel but actually loves him, and proves it by going to great lengths to help him.

But Gabriel and Grace don’t interact much in this game. Gabriel deliberately keeps her distant from his investigation and later justifies it with wanting to protect her, and it’s just annoying as she clearly could be very helpful to him. Grace on her part has this truly embarrassing bitchy jealousy drama with Gerde, a woman who Grace thinks is having sex with Gabriel but she actually isn’t. It’s pointless and the worst part of this game’s writing by far.

Yet there are far more interesting parts of this game’s writing that make me actually love it.

I’m gonna spoil the reveal of who the werewolf is, because it’s obvious from the moment the character enters the story. The story saves the reveal for the beginning of chapter 6, the game’s final chapter, but it’s obvious from the get-go. And I need to reveal it to discuss Gabriel’s storyline properly.

It’s Friedrich von Glower, the leader of an aristocratic hunting club. He is very well played by actor Peter Lucas. He portrays him with both charm and menace, and his dark-haired features are perfect for the part. He is a charismatic presence that dominates the game. The performance does however make it very obvious that he is a werewolf. Yet he is a fascinating character, and a large part of what makes this game so appealing.

Werewolves in this game are immortal. They can be killed, but can live on for centuries otherwise. Grace’s research reveals his extensive backstory stretching back to the 1700s. In the present day, Von Glower has used his experiences as a werewolf to develop a pseudo-darwinian philosophy about how humans will become stronger by getting in touch with their basic animal instincts that modern civilization suppresses. The members of his hunting club are all rich and basically use this philosophy to become better capitalists or lawyers by being ruthless in their actions. It’s a perfect ideology for these rich people, as it justifies them doing terrible things to earn more money.

Yet that’s not the purpose of the philosophy for Von Glower. He is lonely as an immortal werewolf. He wants a companion to join him, and has tried throughout the centuries to find that person. It’s clearly not just friendship he is after, it is romantic and sexual companionship. He is also either gay or bi, and tries to find that companion in other men. The purpose of the club with its philosophy is to prepare a person to be turned by Von Glower and become his werewolf companion.

Grace’s research into his past reveal that he once loved and turned the king of Bavaria Ludwig II. This lead to Ludwig’s suicide after over a decade of suffering.

Once von Glower meets Gabriel, it is love at first sight. He is overly friendly to Gabriel considering they just met and is clearly flirtatious. It’s obvious that he has designs upon Gabriel. And Gabriel seems to genuinely return his affections in some way, even if it is not as openly erotic as it is from von Glower’s side. Gabriel at least is receptive to his flirting. It’s perhaps platonic, but he clearly quickly comes to trust von Glower. Von Glower is obviously a sinister werewolf from the minute he enters the story, yet Gabriel seems oblivious. Is he in love? Maybe.

There is also Von Zell, who was the sole member of Von Glower’s hunting club that he choose to turn. Yet he was dumped by Von Glower after Von Zell’s turned out too violent and strange for Friedrich’s tastes. Now he plays the role of the bitter ex-boyfriend, fiercely jealous of Gabriel.

The Gabriel/Friedrich love story speaks to the themes of the series very well. Gabriel’s story in the first game was about his struggle with his baser instincts. He starts as a lust-driven womanizer, and he has to develop into a “schattenjäger”, a brave fighter against supernatural evil. And now von Glower represents a new temptation for Gabriel to abandon his duty to fight against evil and fall back into his lust-driven ways. Werewolves is a good fit for that kind of themes. Except, the temptation is queer this time around.

This type of story is of course homophobic on some level. The queer character is a villain who must die in the ending. Yet Von Glower is somewhat sympathetic in his loneliness and his feelings for Gabriel seem to be genuine. He is a complex villain, and the relationship between him and Gabriel is complex and engaging. It’s no more homophobic than your average queer monster horror story, and us queer folk often appreciate those despite their flaws.

And this is a story that speaks to me beyond the queer themes. I love German history. And you get to dig into it in this game. In the first game, Grace’s function is that she would do research on Gabriel’s request and then present her findings the next day. And now that you get to play as her, you get to do that research yourself.

I’ll grant that other people might find her parts of the game exposition-heavy. It’s literally reading book chapters at some points or interviewing people for more exposition. But I find werewolves and the Bavarian king Ludwig II to be fascinating subjects. So I was greatly entertained by all this. It’s part of why I found this game’s story so rich.

Ludwig II was gay or bi in real life, and so it makes sense tying him into this game with a bisexual werewolf (who was Ludwig’s boyfriend and who turned the king), as silly as that sounds. It works. His struggles with being turned into a werewolf by von Glower ends up being mirrored by Gabriel’s relationship with von Glower in the present day.

And the game includes the other fascinating bits of Ludwig’s life, such as his extravagant castles and his relations with Richard Wagner. The game lets you explore Neuschwanstein and try to find the score for a lost opera by Wagner concerning werewolves. It’s so fun if you are interested like I am. And you get to hear parts of that fictional opera and the composer Robert Holmes does do a decent Wagner imitation, albeit with a synthesized orchestra. The music overall is good, but it stands in the shadow of this fake Wagner opera. It’s so many interests of mine converging at once.

That is why I love The Beast Within. It is not a perfect video game. The game’s writing and presentation is definitely flawed. Yet there are many virtues. It’s a solid point-and-click adventure that tells a campy but well-written queer werewolf story that takes on German history and culture in an intelligent way.

#my writings #gabriel knight #the beast within #adventure games

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pengychan · 2 years

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[Gabriel Knight] The Wolven Storm

Title: The Wolven Storm Summary: When the Black Wolf escaped the theater in Munich, the hunt was on. After cornering the wounded Beast in the Alps, putting it out of its misery should be a simple enough matter. Except that nothing is ever simple for Gabriel. Characters/Pairings: Gabriel Knight, Grace Nakimura, Friedrich von Glower Rating: T Warnings: character death, depictions of violence Status: Oneshot, complete

A/N: Watch me steal the title of a song from a video game and use it for fic about an entirely different video game. (I had this in the backburner for a while, then @mistresstrevelyan got me into a GK mood again and I finished it. So they're to blame for this, really.)

***

The huge gray creature Grace had learned to refer to as Gabriel was standing in the midst of a crimson red patch in the slushy snow, sniffing at something she couldn’t make out from the distance.

A rabbit, was her first thought; the Black Wolf must have caught a rabbit, or some other small animal, and made a snack out of it before it resumed fleeing, leading them further and further into the wilderness. But Gabriel was paying a bit too much attention to it, and as her snowcat finally moved closer through the heavy snow she finally saw why.

The redness in the slushy snow was blood, all right, but not from a rabbit. As she got off the snowcat to thread through the snow, she saw the gleam of metal. A bear trap, illegal but there all the same, that had probably been hidden beneath the blinding whiteness… and something else caught in it, caked in blood and with the stark whiteness of bone sticking out from one end.

A human arm, chewed off at the elbow joint.

Grace’s stomach clenched, and she saw with the mind’s eye precisely what had happened. The beast running through pristine snow, knowing it was being hunted, in too much of a rush to be cautious - and putting its paw right onto a carefully hidden bear trap.

She could imagine the trap snapping shut, the animalistic cry of pain, and then the sheer desperation to break free - desperation to live, powerful enough to lead the beast to chew off its own limb, crushing bone and tearing flesh to continue fleeing on three legs. Left behind, the torn limb must have turned back to its human form.

The limb will regenerate, if books are to be believed, but it will take time. This was very recent. The Black Wolf is on three legs and gravely wounded.

“It’s close, isn’t it?” Grace said, her voice a little hoarse. She knew Gabriel did not like hearing her refer to von Glower as ‘it’, least of all now that he too was a werewolf, but it was the only way she could make herself stomach the fact they were hunting down a living being to destroy it. Pushing her revulsion aside, she reached to touch the arm; it was not entirely cold yet, the blood still leaking slowly. They were not far behind.

Grace looked up, and met Gabriel’s amber eyes. “We can finish this,” she said, and the gray wolf bared its - his - teeth a moment before taking off to follow the trail of blood, clear and stark on the snow. Grace could only rush into the showcat and follow behind, the Ritter talisman at her neck and the Ritter dagger on the seat next to her, praying that this would be the day their hunt would finally be over.

***

She caught up with Gabriel on the edge of a clearing, meters away from the cabin the trail of blood led to. It was one of the refuges open to excursionists through all winter; she and Gabriel had spent several nights in such places as they tracked von Glower all across the Alps. Now, it seemed, their prey had chosen to take shelter in one… although it would afford him no protection at all.

Von Glower had made no attempt to conceal his trail - but how do you conceal anything, when you’re bleeding out so profusely? - nor had he tried to bar himself in.

The door was ajar, and the gray wolf gave her a long look - wait here - before he proceeded towards the door. He moved slowly, sniffing the air intently; Grace got off the snowcat and watched, dagger in one hand and the rifle slung across her back. She dared not aim it: last time she had, the Black Wolf had been within range and she’d almost pulled the trigger out of instinct before it took off into the woods again.

And if she had, if she’d killed him, Gabriel would have remained cursed for the rest of his life. The thought had kept her awake for the past several nights. She told Gabriel nothing but promised herself that no matter what - even if the Black Wolf came charging at her to tear her apart, she would not shoot.

He should have died in that theater and he didn’t and it was my fault. He got away in that damn basement. I failed to help Ludwig. I can’t let the same happen to Gabriel. I won’t.

Icy wind cut her face, snowflakes starting to come down the gray sky, but Grace barely felt any of it. She could only stare, her mouth dry, as Gabriel nudged the door open. Would the Black Wolf spring onto him now? Was it a trap? Grace knew von Glower could not kill Gabriel without suffering the same fate, but it was of little comfort now: you simply never know what a desperate creature may do. Then again, it was wounded - Gabriel could overpower it, he could… he…

But no attack happened. Gabriel disappeared inside and, after almost a full minute of unnerving silence, there were those noises she had learned to associate with the Change: the crack of bones breaking and realigning, sinews snapping and coming whole again, the grunts of pain as every muscle in the body rippled and each organ seemed to be pulled in different directions.

Then, through the increasing snowfall, drifted Gabriel’s voice. He sounded somber.

“... It’s all right, Gracie. You can come.”

Oh God, please, don’t let it be dead. If it bled out to death, Gabriel is doomed.

She walked slowly inside the darkened cabin, which smelled of old wood and dust but most of all, of blood. Bloody pawprints on the wooden floor gave way to human footprints, the gait unsteady; blood was on the walls too, handprints where Friedrich von Glower had to support himself to keep walking. Palms sweaty despite the cold and heart hammering in her throat, Grace followed the trail through the small entrance into the main room.

There was a fireplace, now turned off; a stove, several beds. Gabriel stood, naked as always after the Change, in the middle of the room. He was giving her his back, eyes fixed on the bed at the far end of the room. And crumpled on the bed, sides rising and falling in erratic breaths, was a man whose face she’d come to know well.

“... Friedrich,” Gabriel called out, and Baron von Glower shifted at the noise. Blue eyes opened to look at them; he remained still, breathing shallowly, the bloody stump tinging the sheets red. He looked at them for several long moments, face ashen pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, as though struggling to recognize either. But in the end, he did.

“Gabriel,” he whispered. “Here you are, at the end of the road. I… knew you’d come.”

“You…” Gabriel seemed at a loss for words, then sighed. “Jesus Christ, Friedrich," he finally said, his voice hoarse. "A bear trap, of all things?"

That finally got the man on the bed - a man, God, for all the effort to think of him as an it, as a beast, as something dangerous to be put down, this was a man and they had to end him - to give a weak smile.

“A bear trap… of all things. Might have had… a better chance if I’d fled on skis, in hindsight.”

A scoff. “Oh, of course the baron can ski.”

“Not… an uncommon skill.”

“It is in New Orleans,” Gabriel retorted, and the shuddering sound that left von Glower sounded like a decent approximation of laughter.

“Would not… have saved me, either way.” A shuddering breath. “You are… an amazing hunter,” he rasped in the end. “I think I knew… from the beginning of this chase… that you would get to me in the end.”

There was an odd sort of pride in his gaze, pain, and something else Gabriel had described to her before; the look in a prey’s eyes when it can no longer run or fight, when it looks at the predator closing in, knowing the end is nearing. A silent conversation was playing out between Gabriel and von Glower, the sort Grace witnessed now for the first time.

I am Death. Are you ready to go?

Yes. Take me.

But Gabriel, with no fangs or claws and still unarmed, did not reach for the Ritter dagger in Grace’s grasp, or for the rifle slung over her shoulder. A rattling breath, and von Glower closed his eyes.

“I only ask you don’t burn me alive,” he murmured. “You can… make it quick. You only need to destroy--”

“The heart or the brain. I know.”

Another shaky breath. “Then either your dagger or the gun will do.”

Gabriel stared a few moments, and worked his jaw. Grace silently held up the dagger, and he reached for it… but his fingers paused a scant inch from its handle. A sigh.

“I wish there was another way.”

“There is not.” Von Glower shifted, letting out another groan as he tried to turn on his back. The sheets were now tinged with his blood, sweat making his hair stick to his face and neck. No normal man, Grace knew, would be alive at that point, let alone conscious. “I hunted humans, Gabriel. I embraced my nature… as you embrace your humanity. Now embrace your task. Do what you must and be free of this gift. Or curse.”

A choking noise left Gabriel, one that Grace needed a few moments to identify as laughter. “Christ. You’re so verbose, even now.” Gabriel pulled his hand away from the handle of the dagger, and approached the bed. He grasped von Glower’s shoulders, and helped him turn on his back as he’d been struggling to do. The man’s chest rose and fell fast, a pained groan came clenched teeth.

“Easy, now…” Gabriel paused, and bit his lower lip, hard, when his gaze fell on the stump where his arm had been. “... You got any last words?”

Friedrich von Glower opened his eyes, and stared up at him. He was silent a few moments, sickly pale and limp, before he licked his lips and nodded. “More than a few, I suspect. I lived a long life-- none alive knows of. People I met and loved no one else remembers. I cannot bear to think… no one will know, once I die.”

For a few moments Gabriel was silent, gaze locked on von Glower. He had tried to describe it to Grace a few times, the connection between him and that man; he’d described something primeval, too powerful to ignore, too visceral to explain through words only. But words had always come easy to Gabriel, and she’d thought she understood.

Looking on now, at the way they stared at one another - two kindred spirits and yet so different, predator and prey, man and beast, both all of those things and none of them - she realized that she perhaps would never quite grasp it, and that it was a relief. It was an abyss she may be too frightened to ever gaze into.

“... Do you want me to listen?” Gabriel murmured, and there was a weak nod.

“Please.”

This is a trick.

The thought flashed through Grace’s mind in an instant, and she recoiled from the sort of stupor she had fallen into. “Gabriel, if he’s given time to heal--” she began, but trailed off when von Glower’s eyes found her. He stared for a moment, and managed another weak smile.

“Miss Nakimura, I assume. We were never… properly introduced, I believe.”

“Yeah, my bad,” Gabriel drawled, and the man’s chest shuddered in what may have been an attempt at laughter before he spoke again.

“You are… every bit as tenacious and clever as Gabriel told me, but your concern is unwarranted. I would need quite a long time to recover from this, and I am… no Sherazade, I fear.”

Grace scowled. “Yes, you’d say that, wouldn’t yo--”

“Grace.”

Gabriel’s voice was quiet, but there was a gravity to it that made her fall quiet in a way she wouldn’t have even if he’d shouted - especially if he’d shouted. He looked at her, and his expression gave her pause. She had seen it before, almost two years ago now, only once and never again. Not since that night in New Orleans, standing before a fiery chasm.

Not since Malia.

"I'm sorry about Malia. I know you cared for her."

He’d let her change subject then, but of course she knew. When in the coming days he’d sit in silence, staring at a cup of cooling coffee without taking a sip, dead to the world - she’d known what it was that kept playing in his head, over and over, the sense of guilt almost palpable even if he had not been the one to end her. He had nightmares about killing von Zell, too, even though it had been a split second decision for self defense against a man he’d despised. He hated it, the killing part.

And this was someone he shared a bond with, someone he could not bring himself to hate, yet he’d had to hunt him down like an animal; he’d have to kill him with his own hands to have his own life back, look at him in the eye and sink a dagger in his heart while he was too weak to fight so he could be rid of the curse, rid the world of the Black Wolf once and for all.

If showing him kindness in his last hour made the task easier for Gabriel to bear, then she would not object.

“... I’ll go fetch your things,” she said instead, and left wordlessly to get the backpacks she’d left on the snowcat. Not a moment too soon: snow was falling heavy, and the wind had picked up. Grace went back in, closed the door against the building snowstorm, and set about to find supplies.

Canned food was easy to find, as was the gas canister to get the stove started; she needed to look around a bit harder for a first aid kit but in the end she found that, too. Not nearly enough to help with a severed arm, but it would have to do. It was mostly performative, either way. They all knew von Glower was not going to leave that cabin alive.

Gabriel clothed himself, and insisted on looking after von Glower; for all the man’s weakness, he didn’t seem to want Grace anywhere close to him. Still, Baron von Glower did not try anything: a hiss of pain as Gabriel bandaged the bloody stump was the only reaction he gave.

At last, Gabriel pulled him to the side of the bed that was not soaked with blood, and put a heavy blanket over him before wiping the sweat off his face with a corner of the sheets. It was a genuine, heartfelt attempt at making his last hours in that world more comfortable, and it made something in Grace’s chest clench.

“Is there any water, Grace?”

“From the tap. I’m not sure if it's drinkable. I could boil it first…”

Another weak chuckle. “I am slightly… past worrying over that,” Friedrich von Glower managed, and Grace felt more than a little foolish, considering that man would probably suffer no ill effects from contaminated water under normal circumstances in the first place.

Maybe even I don’t want to think of it. That this man is no man, and that we’re going to end him.

She hurried to fill a passably clean mug with water, and watched Gabriel press it to von Glower’s lips, a hand supporting his head.

He drank to the last drop, and leaned his head back down with a long breath. “Thank you,” he murmured. He sounded so tired Grace almost expected him to fall unconscious but he did not. He closed his eyes, but spoke again. “... Heh. Embarrassingly enough, I am not sure where to start.”

“Oh, asking the writer for advice?” Gabriel quipped. “Try with the start. What’s your real name?”

Von Glower’s lips twitched a moment, and he opened his eyes. “Rudolf,” he replied, gazing up at the ceiling as though he could see something there that they could not. “After my mother’s brother - he died young, she had to plead with my father for it, or so I was told. Rudolf von Ralick.”

“Has a nice ring to it.”

“I do prefer Friedrich myself.”

“Could have been worse. Could have been Adolf.”

“Heh. One curse was enough, I suppose.” Another faint smile. “I used that name again, once I got lands and my title. Rudolf von Glower. I could never reclaim my father’s title, but it was nice to use the name my mother gave me one more time. She was gone far too soon.”

Something passed over Gabriel’s face, there one moment and gone the next. Gabriel himself, Grace knew, barely remembered his own mother. Gone too soon, like his father and grandfather.

“Tell me about her,” Gabriel said in the end, and von Glower did.

He spoke of a loving mother - Ingrid, her name was Ingrid, he wanted them to remember it - and of a distant, somewhat terrifying father. He spoke of a sheltered childhood and the sudden rush to escape, not understanding what was happening. He would only learn years later that his mother’s foresight was the only thing that had stood between him, a boy of five, and death at the stake.

He remembered the long carriage ride, barely stopping to eat and change horses for the first two weeks; questions that went unanswered, his mother holding him tight and saying nothing. A stay in France, then they were moving again across the Pyrenees, through Spain all the way to Portugal - and the long, long sail to Buenos Aires.

Even in exile, he’d grown in wealth. His mother had remarried to old nobility from Spain, a man who’d been nothing but kind to him and had loved his mother so that when he experienced the first Change - it had been horror and confusion and pain, he was only twelve and he did not know, he did not understand what was happening - he’d sworn secrecy, and kept his word. Ingrid had passed away when von Glower was only sixteen, four years after his first Change. Her second husband had died too three years later, childless, leaving all he had to his stepson.

The first thing von Glower had done was break a promise he’d made to his mother. Over the years he’d vaguely heard that his father had been tried and executed in Rittersberg, Bavaria, for crimes he was told nothing of; he’d instructed a lawyer to write, to find out what had truly happened to his father, what had truly transpired on the night he had to flee.

He’d suspected, then, that it had something to do with the Change that would come upon him each night of full moon, forcing him to lock himself away as his blood boiled and his soul cried to break free, to run and hunt and feed. The response had come, proving him right.

“I was so angry,” he rasped, and swallowed, closing his eyes. The bandage over the stump of his arm was thoroughly stained red, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped. “I thought of myself as a grown man and I was just an angry child with more money than sense. My mother was gone, my father had cursed me - there was land across the ocean that should have been mine, a title, heritage that had been taken from me.”

“... I understand,” Gabriel whispered, and ah, he truly did. No one else in the world, Grace knew, could understand better than him - unwelcome as it had been, having that heritage sprung on him.

Is your legacy any less of a curse or a blessing than mine?

Baron von Glower opened his eyes, meeting Gabriel’s own gaze again. “I know,” he rasped.

Gabriel’s hand brushed the hair off his forehead once again, and cradled the side of his face. Von Glower leaned into the touch with a long breath; in the moment of silence, all that could be heard was the crackling of the small fire Grace had got going in the fireplace, the snow and ice clattering against the windows as the wind picked up. The rest of the world seemed to be gone, drowned in white.

Over the whistling of the wind, von Glower’s voice rose again and, weak as it was, it did not waver or break until… Grace wasn’t sure. Hours, for sure, but it was difficult to keep track of time. She found herself listening almost in spite of herself, a long story, a long life. A life of duality, beast and man and never fully either. The horror giving way to anger, then acceptance as he searched for a balance, taught himself to think of it as a legacy, a gift rather than a curse. Taught himself to love the kind of life he was handed.

He spoke of how that balance was nearly lost, almost as soon as he’d found it, when he realized he was not growing old and never would. How his life had become a nomadic one, never too long in one place so no one could catch on to his true age; of names worn like masks and thrown away, never to be fully honest to anyone. Of how he’d tried and failed to find others like him, and failing that to make others like him.

He spoke of the people he’d met since, and loved and doomed and lost - how the search for companionship never stopped, despite the lives it destroyed in its wake, starting with an army official in Brazil who’d been caught and killed soon after becoming out of control.

He should have stopped then, Grace thought. Should have stopped before he doomed Ludwig, and von Zell, and God knows how many more before and in between them. He should have stopped and instead he wished to take Gabriel and it’s selfish, selfish, selfish.

And it was true - it was selfish - but the more the man spoke the more she understood the crushing loneliness of his existence. Men are not meant to be alone; wolves are not meant to be alone. As much as Grace wished to think that she would not have done the same - that she wouldn’t have been as selfish, that she would have never tried in the first place - she was not all that sure. Perhaps she might have chosen death over such an existence.

And it seemed that now, after so many years, so had von Glower.

As his voice faded, the tale finished, Grace found herself speaking quietly. Her voice made Gabriel recoil as though being torn out of a trance, and von Glower’s blue eyes turned to her.

“... You could have made someone like you, though, the way your father did,” she said. “Not as a companion, clearly, but-- someone like you, all the same. Someone born with the curse, someone capable of retaining their sanity. Why did you not?”

Von Glower’s lips curled weakly. “Offspring? I could never. Not after seeing what my mother suffered for me, not after going through it as a boy. I decided long ago it could only be grown men - only people who accepted the Blood, and with whom I could never sire an offspring.”

But it ruined them. It ruined them all.

Gabriel looked down at von Glower’s face, frowning. “Ludwig never did accept it,” he pointed out, although his hand did not move from the side of von Glower’s face. He nodded, leaning into the touch once again.

“Ludwig was… different. He was on the brink of changing his mind about everything - I could not talk him out of it - and Bismarck would have had him dead before he let him break the treaty. He was running out of time and so was I.”

“He was the one behind the Opera plot, you know. To try and trap you - he was hoping to free himself of the curse by having you killed.”

A look of surprise, then a weak chuckle. “Ah, of course. I should have suspected. No offense, but it truly does not seem like a plot you would come up with, Gabriel,” he added, giving him an oddly affectionate look.

Gabriel snorted. “None taken, I sure as hell did not come up with it. I know fuckall about music, if you don’t count a decent whistling of When the Saints Go Marching In.”

“Heh. Such a clever plan, it’s a shame it failed. I suppose I will have to apologize to him - to everyone - should I get to see them again.” Baron von Glower glanced at the window, which was covered in ice as the wind kept howling outside. There would be no last look at the outside word; Grace saw that realization sink in, saw his expression turn mournful for a moment before he sighed and looked up, again, at Gabriel.

“It is time, Schattenjäger.”

Being referred to that way never failed to make something in Gabriel’s expression shift, a pang of something painful and heavy, but inevitable as the tide. Slowly, he leaned von Glower’s head back down on the pillow and looked away, towards the rifle resting against the wall, the Ritter dagger on the nearby table. “...How?”

Von Glower lifted himself on the elbow of his good arm, looking over. Had she not been so focused on Gabriel, on the obvious agony etched in his features, Grace may have noticed he was no longer as pale, his voice no longer as weak. But she did not notice.

“Poetic as the dagger would be, I think I would prefer a gunshot to the head.”

“Very well,” Gabriel said, and Grace breathed a little more easily in relief. It would be quicker, cleaner. She had no wish to watch von Glower agonize for even a moment more than necessary. She had no wish to see him suffer.

She only wanted it all to be over.

Gabriel stood, picked up the rifle, and to his credit he paused only a moment before drawing in a deep breath and turning. The mouth of the rifle seemed impossibly black to Grace, impossibly large. Von Glower stared into it, and for just a moment she saw it - the fear in his eyes, the primeval terror of death. Then he closed his eyes, and bowed his head, letting the rifle press against his forehead.

Gabriel swallowed. “Any last words, or…?”

“I have spoken enough and it is time for us both to be free of this, whether we choose to call it a curse or a gift. I only beg you to make it quick.”

A nod, and Grace held her breath, but the gunshot did not come. Gabriel stood there, horribly pale, unable to make himself pull the trigger.

If I could do it for him, I would, Grace found herself thinking, but all she could do was look up to meet Gabriel’s gaze. He looked back at her, with eyes that were both too old and too young.

“Gracie, I…” he began, but trailed off when von Glower spoke, his voice soft.

“... It is what you were born to do,” he said, unmoving. “Let go of your guilt.”

“That’s not how I work, Friedrich,” Gabriel choked out, and lowered the rifle. Grace sighed, looking down.

No, it is not. He may find it in himself to shoot, but the guilt will always be there and that is a curse I don’t know how to make go away. I can’t help him. I can’t--

“So be it. You had your chance, Schattenjäger.”

Von Glower’s voice rang out suddenly, so cold it made Grace’s heart skip a beat. She stood suddenly, instinctively reaching for the only other weapon - the dagger - just as all Hell broke loose.

The being in the bed moved impossibly fast and suddenly Gabriel was flying across the room, the rifle discharging with a deafening bang on the ceiling. Grace screamed, but her ears rang painfully and her own scream sounded distant; Gabriel’s own shout seemed to come from miles away.

She did not hear the crunching, snapping noises and came with the Charge, either. But when something huge and impossibly strong threw her on the ground, before her fingers even touched the Ritter dagger, she knew precisely what had happened.

Even on three legs, the Black Wolf was a fearsome sight to behold. She’d barely caught glimpses of it at a distance a few times, and even then she’d thought it looked more like a shadow than a living being. Up close, as she looked up at it, pinned on the ground by an enormous front paw on her shoulder, that impossible blackness was overshadowed by the mere size of it. Those horribly intelligent eyes, dark amber, bore into hers; the lips were pulled back, showing sharp white fangs easily the size of her palm.

Its snarl was the first sound she was able to hear again; a low, rumbling noise that seemed to reverberate all around her. It was the sound of a beast poised to kill, and yet Grace was oddly unafraid. Her gaze remained fixed on those eyes, and she realized something was amiss the moment three other sounds reached her almost at the same time.

Gabriel screaming her name, and then two gunshots in quick succession.

The Black Wolf’s head exploded in a spray of blood, bone and brain matter. It splattered across the wall to her right, and the creature above her was thrown to the side; it seized a moment in mid-air, or so it seemed to her, but when the body hit the floor with a thud it was motionless, and remained so. It was over.

Ears ringing, Grace did not hear Gabriel calling her name again. But suddenly he was kneeling over her, checking for wounds, and finally pulled her close after seeing she was not injured. The grip was tight, the heart in his chest thumping wildly. Grace drew in a shaky breath, her mind still somewhat numb, and returned the embrace.

On the floor, the motionless beast turned back into a man, or what remained of one, laying naked and unrecognizable in a pool of blood. Outside the cabin, the snow storm kept on raging. Barely above her ear, Gabriel's voice was finally audible.

“It’s gone,” he murmured. “The curse. I can tell.”

Oh. Relief broke through the numbness, and Grace tightened her embrace. “I’m so glad,” she whispered. “And I’m so sorry.”

“... Don’t be. I had no choice.” Gabriel drew in a shaky breath, and finally pulled back. He silently looked at what remained of Friedrich von Glower, sorrow and confusion rolled into one with an odd sort of relief. “I have no idea what the hell that was about, but I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Grace swallowed, something aching in her chest. She thought back of the fangs that could have torn her throat out in a second, but did not. She thought of the dark amber eyes bearing into hers - and of what she had not seen in those eyes.

The language of death, as Gabriel called it; the mute question from predator to prey she had witnessed earlier in that same cabin, between Gabriel and von Glower.

I am Death. Are you ready to go?

But that was missing. You never asked, did you, von Glower? You never meant to kill me, just pinned me down and waited. You knew it was the only way Gabriel could end you and be at peace with it. He hates the killing part, so you gave him someone to protect instead.

But Gabriel could never know that, it would defeat the entire purpose of that sacrifice, so she kept her thoughts to herself and shook her head.

“Maybe it was desperation. Maybe he wasn’t ready to die after all,” Grace finally murmured.

“God, who is?” Gabriel choked out, looking away, but when Grace reached over to take his hand he squeezed it back, and she knew he was going to be all right.

***

They burned von Glower’s body in the forest the next day, right after the storm ended.

It was no easy task, taking the piles of dry logs from the cabin to a small clearing in the heart of the forest and make the pyre, even with the snow cat to help part of the way. But it did not matter: they had all the time they needed.

By noon, they were ready. They took the body to the clearing along with a box of matches, and a bottle of kerosene. Grace stood in silence, watching as Gabriel placed the body on the pyre, still wrapped in white sheets, and poured the kerosene. He gave the motionless form one last, long look before he struck a match and let it fall, wordlessly, onto the pyre.

Flames flared up immediately, wrapping around the body like hungry fingers. Gabriel stepped back, and for a few moments he and Grace stood there, watching the white sheets turn black; they were upwind, so the smell of burning flesh did not reach them. Soon enough the fire was roaring, and she could no longer see the body in the blaze anymore.

“... You don’t think we’re gonna set the forest on fire, right? I don’t think he’d want that.”

Grace shrugged. “No. Too far from the trees, snow all around. No danger there.”

“Smokey Bear might disagree.”

“Ugh, I always hated that thing. Gave me the creeps.”

“Heh. Makes two of us.” Gabriel was quiet a few more moments. From the pyre came some loud cracking sounds; when he spoke again, his voice was tight. “... I think we should go,” he said in the end.

He turned to walk off, only to pause when Grace grabbed his arm. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Huh?” He turned, blinking, and Grace grinned, holding up the Ritter amulet.

“You’re not cursed anymore. Don’t you want this back?”

Gabriel blinked another few moments, then his face opened up in a smile. He took the amulet, and the smile widened when handling it caused no pain. He ran his thumb over it before he slipped it around his neck, and tucked it under his coat.

“... Thank you, Gracie.”

“Don’t mention it. You only owe me about half the profits from your next book.”

“I thought we’d settled for a good pint of beer.”

“No we did not.”

“Shame we didn’t get that in writing, huh? Now we may never know.”

Grace laughed, and to her relief so did Gabriel. The sorrow was still there, but there was no guilt. There could be no guilt: he had saved her life, after all. And Grace was never going to let slip anything to make him believe otherwise.

Free of the curse. Free of guilt. Not a bad parting gift.

As Gabriel walked ahead, muttering something about getting back someplace warm before his balls froze off, Grace turned back for the last time. She could barely see the fire beyond the trees, but she turned her gaze up, to the column of thick black smoke rising up in the sky.

Thank you, she mouthed, and went after Gabriel.

#Gabriel Knight #gabriel knight: the beast within #grace nakimura #friedrich von glower

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