I groaned, as I slammed my fists against the table.

"Something wrong, Julian?"

"I'm afraid so, Raymond. Stuck on my writing…again."

He tutted, stroking his beard as he always did when looking for inspiration.

I awaited his response eagerly, if with a little anxiety. Raymond and I had been steadfast friends since childhood, both a product of families trapped in what the religious people amongst us called "purgatory", though in this case; it fortunately didn't mean we were awaiting entry to either Heaven or Hell. Rather, it was meant in more a financial way- as in, our parents earned too little money to be classed as wealthy, but too much money to be classed as poor.

Raymond had always been particularly happy there. I, however, had always strived for more.

The contrasts between us did not stop there. Throughout life, I had always been seen as the more level-headed of our duo. Raymond was a little on the, how do you say…eccentric side.

"Now, my old friend," he announced with vigour, back in the present, "picture this. Your next bestseller!"

"Actually, Raymond," I corrected sheepishly, "It'd only be my first."

My words seemed to throw him off a little, as he ended up adjusting his necktie once more in order to get back on track. He cleared his throat, and began again, standing up.

"It is the 1800's, on a night just like this one-"

"It's late afternoon, Raymond."

"-and, stalking the night, lurking on the streets are vicious beasts!" He reared up, pulling a face like one of them.

"I'm interested." I relayed, barely keeping the grin from my face.

He crept close to me. "But, there is a twist. The beasts are not those you would expect."

By the end of this line, I had fully straightened out my emotions. "Even more interested."

"These beasts are a race of monsters that look like humans, but are anything but- VAMPIRES!"

There were a few seconds of silence, before I burst out in laughter.

"Come on now Raymond," I pleaded, "please, be serious!"

He turned to me, his face portraying a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"I…I was being serious."

I sighed, walking over to him and looping an arm around his shoulder. "Raymond…you know how the average Victorian public treat vampires, don't you? They're just old folk tales, and in today's society, people want real accounts."

His eyes seemed to widen, and he swivelled around to face me. "But, Julian my friend, you do not understand! These vampires are not fictitious!"

He got up, walking over to a bag which he had placed by my doorway, reaching into it and pulling out a piece of crumpled paper.

"A map?"

Raymond nodded eagerly. "There." he said, pointing to a red dot. "That is the location of these vampires. The province of Gomorrah."

"A-are you saying you want me to travel there?" I asked, still in disbelief.

"Well, it is the only way to do unbiased research…" he replied. He then looked to me. "Please trust me, Julian. The rewards you reap from this will not be small, that is a promise I can make."

In his defence, him and I had made promises of various sorts many times before, and not once had he broken them.

He seemed determined in his plans, and by now, denial was no longer an option.

"Fine."

I reached out, and shook his hand. A grin spread across his face, and he rushed away from me.

"Raymond? Why the sudden fuss?"

"I need to send a telegraph!" he shouted back.

Snapped back into a perplexed state, I waited a few minutes, before Raymond re-emerged, positively beaming.

I tried to strike up a conversation with him, but my attempts were unsuccessful, until the telegraph sender beeped, signalling a reply had been sent.

"What does it say?" I asked, "And for that matter, what did you send in the first place?"

"I wasn't going to tell you so soon," he explained, at first calmly, "but…"

He turned to me from the telegraph sender, the grin returning once again.

"I've ordered you a carriage. To Gomorrah you shall go!"

My eyes widened with shock. "Raymond, I didn't even give you my consent!" I reminded, trying to hold back the anger bubbling inside me. "And, why, may I ask, did you order me a horse-drawn-carriage, of all modes of transport? I could've just taken my car, at least then people wouldn't mistake me for one of those stuck-up-"

Just before I was about to blow my top, there was a sound outside the door. Sure enough, the carriage, made of copper and pulled by a fine chestnut stallion, had pulled up, ready and waiting.

"Mr Julian Alexander Sedgewick?" the driver asked.

Raymond patted me on the back, as I stepped forward. "The very same."

"To, er, Gomorrah, is it?"

I smirked briefly. "Indeed."

"I'll gladly take you there, sir, but I'm not sure I've ever heard of the place…"

"That shouldn't be a problem. My friend here is in possession of a map containing the route."

Raymond produced it immediately, pressing it into my hand. Though he was the one who had set me off on this trip in the first place, I could sense from the look he was giving me that he was worried, but yet so sure, so firm in his belief that whatever trials may face me, I would come out on the other side relatively unscathed.

I couldn't say I disagreed with him.

As I climbed into the seat of the carriage, I looked around London, knowing that this was the last time I'd see my beloved hometown for a long while.

Becoming almost drowned in my own feelings, I was grateful when the stallion neighed, and began trotting, his hooves rattling against the ground in an increasingly rhythmic way.

"Onwards, Julian!" Raymond crowed, now becoming smaller with every step the stallion took. "Your fame and fortune awaits!"

And much more besides, hopefully, I thought with a smile.