The vampires repeated this with the twelve other girls. The girls all fell forward, the scent of their blood intoxicating as it filled the air. It gushed from their opened throats all over the grassy mound that marked Radu’s place of rest.
Lucifer spoke in a tongue none of them knew. Even with their gift for speaking so many languages and dialects, they would never know this one. It was a very ancient form of Aramaic spoken long ago in Heaven. Using the language of the angels added weight to his black prayer.
Smoke rose from beneath the corpses of the dead girls. Dracula grew excited when he saw it, anticipating what was to come. He gazed down when the earth began to shake, the vibration shifting the lifeless bodies to either side of the grave. The earth that covered Radu’s casket rumbled and split down the middle.
In the depths of Hell, Radu continued to endure a torrid time. The Grand General had many legions in his army. He gave Radu a lowly status in one of them, and the demons in that legion despised him. They made him a target for abuse because of his looks. What had given him favour as a mortal, only served to hurt him in his afterlife.
“Clean my boots, pretty boy,” one of them ordered, giving him a threatening stare.
Radu knew better than to not obey. He dived at the soldier’s feet and began to clean the boots with the rags that were his clothes.
“Is that your notion of clean?” the demon snarled.
“Give him the whip,” another suggested, grinning at the thought. “It should do him good.”
“Why not impale him?” a third spoke up. “I hear he had a liking for such things when he walked the earth.”
The first soldier produced a whip and walked up to Radu, an evil glint in his eye.
Radu cowered away in fear. “No, I beg you, spare me the whip.”
The soldier brought it down across his back. Radu cried out as he tried to move away. The others stood around and laughed. A second taste of the whip took his eyes back to the soldier.
“Go and collect the stake,” the soldier said to the others. “Let us give pretty boy what he desires the most.”
It was a fate Radu had suffered countless times. They beat him until he could take no more. When the sport in that went, the group would impale him on a metal spike. This was the eternity chosen for him, a gruesome fate repeated over and over. He closed his eyes and fell down. When shall it ever end?
“Radu!” he heard his name called.
He did not look up. The thugs around him had eroded away any strength he had left.
“Radu!” the voice called again.
Satanachia, the Grand General of Hell, loomed over him. The other soldiers backed away when he arrived there. Radu looked up. His eyes opened wide when he saw it was he.
“Arise,” the Grand General ordered.
Radu struggled to do so. Nasty welts all over his body oozed blood. The Grand General reached down with one of his mighty arms and lifted him to his feet.
“There is a summons for you,” he said.
“Excuse me, Grand General,” he groaned, still feeling the effects of the whip. “I do not understand.”
He pointed to the sulphur clouds in the distance, his huge biceps bulging against his armour. “Go; His Majesty is waiting for you.”
“His Majesty wants me?”
“Yes, and I would advise you not to take too long over it.”
Radu staggered away, finding it a struggle to maintain his balance. He passed through the thick sulphur clouds, which stung his eyes and made them tear. Every breath he took burned his lungs. Once he had passed through them, he stumbled upon a staircase. He stopped and looked around.
“Do not stop,” the voice of the Grand General called after him.
Radu looked up and began the ascent. With every step he took, his flesh began to flake from his bones. His skin peeled away first, and then the flesh underneath slowly rotted to nothing. It terrified him. Still, he dared not stop. If Lucifer was waiting, he had to keep moving.
At the top of the steps, he saw a casket. It was the one they had used to put his corpse in the ground. He could hear Lucifer now. His Majesty spoke in a tongue he did not understand. When the base of the casket opened, he knew he had to climb into it.
Inside, he saw his decomposed corpse, and trembled as he sat beside it. Worms and ants burrowed through the little flesh that remained. Spiders and other bugs crawled in and out through his eye sockets.
The base of the casket closed shut behind him. He cried out as the corpse sucked on him, drawing him in like a vacuum. Soon, corpse and soul became one.
As a corpse, he lay there as dead as he had for the last twenty-eight years. The ground rumbled up above, the heavy earth pressing down against the rotten lid of the casket. It groaned and splintered before giving way. The grave then caved in on all four sides.
Radu heard Lucifer’s voice from far off. It awoke him, as if from a dream. He opened his eyes to feel the cold earth pressing down against his face and body. It smothered him with its weight and density. When he cried out, it filled his mouth and nostrils. He tried to push it away, but his hands would not move. His lungs burned, and felt close to bursting.
Lucifer then spoke in a language he could understand, before summoning him from somewhere above. “Come forth, Radu,” he commanded. “Return, as a man, to the world of the living.”
Dracula almost drooled with excitement when he heard Lucifer make the summons. He longed to see the face of his brother again. Once he had seen it, he wanted to destroy it. His heart leapt when he saw a decomposed hand claw its way through the dirt covering the grave. A moment later, he saw the other. Dracula jumped onto the broken mound. He grabbed the two hands and dragged their owner from the earth. Once Radu was clear, he tossed him down by the graveside.
Radu lay face down on the wet ground. His internal organs began to grow back, and with the re-formation of his lungs, he gasped and choked for air. The first of it in almost thirty years filled his lungs. He realised he was free of the tortures of Hell. Somehow, he had managed to get away.
A pain seared through his chest. He clutched at it with one of his rotted hands, and felt his heart beating for the very first time since the moment of his death.
Lucifer grinned at the sight of him. The others looked down on him with a degree of revulsion. His hair hung in grey wisps about his head, and what little he had left was matted and thick with dirt. The clothes he had worn at his burial, hung as rags about his emaciated frame. Only a little flesh remained on his bones.
Dracula felt sick to his stomach. His first thought was that Radu was going to cheat him again. “This is not what I envisaged,” he said, in a rage.
“Wait for it,” his master said, trying to placate him.
Radu recognised the voice of his brother. He looked around to see if his ears had deceived him. His empty eye sockets gazed at the imposing figure stood to his left. The sight of him repulsed Dracula. Insects and bugs had eaten the eyes away. His lips and the flesh around his lower jaw had all gone too.
Dracula caught a whiff on the breeze that advised him dawn was on its way. Lucifer felt his concerns, and raised his arms above his head to call on the night to resist it. Dark clouds raced across the heavens to drown out the moonlight. It did not affect the vision of the vampires. But Radu, it plunged into darkness.
He began to grow impatient. “Where is his face? I shall not be cheated of my revenge!”
The skies rumbled overhead before a bolt of lightning arced down and struck Radu full in the chest. It lifted him several feet off the ground, his whole body stretching taut and tensing from the shock as the current passed through him. Four more lightning bolts crashed down around him, starting four fires.
Radu emitted the most horrible cry. He tore at the rags that clung to him as they ignited. The others watched on in awe. Slowly but surely, the flesh returned to his bones. Radu writhed about on the ground and continued to cry out. His muscles stretched and moved for the first time since he had passed to t
he other side.
His vital organs grew back and, as one, they started to function again. Grafts of skin appeared and covered the flesh all over his body. The wisps of grey hair fell out. In their place, a full head of black hair returned. Once this process had ended, Radu dropped down to the ground. He lay there, face-down, groaning at the pain that coursed through every nerve in his body.
Dracula stood near him. He lingered there, waiting for his brother to rise. In that moment, the rain came down. The skies seemed to open entirely, such was the deluge that fell.
It filled the opening in the grave, taking several of the dead girls down with it. The ground all around turned to a swampy mire. Radu slid around in it on his hands and knees. The rain washed away all the impurities from his body. His skin formed new layers until it looked as perfect as it had in the heady days when he ruled Wallachia. In that time, he had a form so beautiful, men and women alike coveted him for their own.
He fell against the mud, his limbs weak and sapped of all their strength. Dracula grabbed him by the hair and forced him to his feet. He tugged at Dracula’s hands with his. Naked and cold, his brother held him there for the others to see.
Right away, the two women could see why he was so adored. He had the most perfect face and body; his eyes a soft and gentle blue. For them to destroy that kind of beauty was an abomination against God.
But that is what Dracula wanted. They could all feel the hatred he had for his brother. It oozed out of his every pore like a dank, stale sweat. Ilona hoped that in doing this, it might release the shackles that weighed him down. His hate ate at him like a cancer, and had done so for as long as she had known him. She wanted this over with once and for all. Maybe then he could lay this to rest.
“Dawn is on its way,” she reminded him.
“The dawn shall come late this day,” Lucifer advised.
“Then let us finish this,” she said.
Dracula threw Radu back down against the mud. “Then do it, Ilona,” he said to his wife. “Finish it.”
Radu looked up at her and trembled. He did not know her face, but knew her name. She was Ilona Szilágy, the woman his brother had married in his time at Buda.
“What would you have me do?” she asked.
“I want you to change him. Make him one of us.”
Radu did not know what that implied, but he knew it was nothing good. He tried to get away, but his hands and feet slid in the mud. Each time he attempted to rise, he crashed back down again.
Ilona watched him for a moment and drew her fangs, ready to pounce. Radu heard a cracking sound as her jaws opened wide. When he looked up, she swooped on him.
She lifted him off the ground and rammed him into a yew tree close by. His torso thudded hard against it. He groaned on impact, striking his head as well as his body. Before his head could drop, she bit hard into his neck.
His body strained beneath her. She pinned him there and drained away pints of his blood. When he felt faint and sickly, she released her grip on him. The cramps hit him fast. She cut her wrist and offered it to him.
He tried to turn away, but was unable to do so. The pain doubled him over, and he fell to his knees. He could sense nothing else, but the scent of her sweet blood. It called out to him, almost whispering his name. The call was one he could not ignore. In the worst agony, he crawled through the mud and drank from her wrist.
To Dracula, the change seemed to take forever. Finally, Radu awoke after going through the same process they all had. He too was a vampire now. After forty-one long years, Dracula could have his revenge at last.
Radu climbed to his feet and stood there, trembling. His head was awash with the sounds of the night. The splendour of it blinded his eyes. The hatred in his brother’s heart echoed in his ears. He looked across at Dracula, fearful of what was to come. For the very first time, he realised Dracula’s grisly intentions.
“We meet at last, Brother.” His hatred for Radu not only showed in his eyes, but was evident in his tone too. “Welcome back to the world of men.”
“What do you want with me?” he asked, despite his fear.
“I want my revenge, and I shall have it.”
“For what? I only ever did to you what you would have done to me.”
“For all that you took from me.”
“I was a product of our time, as you were.”
“I lost all I had to your treachery. My bride, my kingdom, and my liberty!”
“Christina?” Radu said, unable to stifle a laugh despite the precariousness of his situation. “She only ever had eyes for our cousin, Stephen. All who knew her, knew that.”
Dracula struck him down with his fist. His eyes burned with rage. Ilona did not like the flavour of the conversation. It ailed her that he still felt grief over the loss of his first wife.
Radu looked up at him. “What can you do? I am already dead.”
“Oh, Brother, you are far from dead. If I were you, I would long for it. From this day forward, you shall walk the earth for all eternity.”
Even now, he did not realise what he had become. He thought about what his brother said, and it still did not make perfect sense.
“But never again shall you be loved. Never again shall anyone look upon you without revulsion. Know that I am going to condemn you to a life in the shadows. I have had you brought back so I can take away your face.”
“You have lost your mind,” Radu said. “But then, you always were evil and twisted. I still feel justified in taking away your throne. It is what the people wanted, and what they needed.”
As Radu got to his feet once more, Lucifer spat a fireball his way. He turned in that direction in the very moment it struck him in the face.
He screamed in agony. It was a cry so ghastly, it even sent a shiver through Varkal. The stench of charred flesh filled the air around him. He took Anya by the hand and stepped back.
Dracula remained close to his brother. “I have my vengeance at last,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “I can see that which you love most of all, burn.”
Radu writhed about in the mud. He tried in vain to dowse the flames that engulfed him from the shoulders up. Over and over, he screamed. The fire ate through his skin to the tender flesh beneath, and peeled the flesh from his bones.
His hair melted and burned into the roof of his skull. He put his hands over his ears, but they dissolved at his touch. Both his lips crackled and fell from his mouth. One by one, his teeth charred and dropped out as his gums shrank and receded. The only features that remained intact were his eyes and his two new fangs.
The heavy rain helped drown the flames. Radu lay still in the mud, his head continuing to smoulder. His whole body trembled from the shock.
Dracula knelt down over him. “Where you were once beautiful, you are hideous. No one should ever want to cast their eyes upon you from this day.”
“We must leave,” Ilona said. “Dawn is close.”
Dracula could not resist one last parting shot. “Enjoy your eternity, Brother. I know I shall.”
Radu could not even answer, but cried like a badly wounded animal. The fire had burned through his vocal chords too. His mind remained strong and as the vampires drifted off into the night, he swore he would get his own revenge.
Lucifer stood over him. “Be wary of the sun, Radu, lest much more than your face shall burn.”
Chapter 33
ROME PROVINCE. THE HOUSE OF GINA ORSINI
IN THE RIONE BORGO.
JUNE, 1503.
Gina Orsini watched her much older lover, who did not speak while he dressed. She looked on as he fumbled with his scarlet cassock. “Wait, allow me to help you.”
He stood still while she draped it over him properly. She smoothed it down with her hands and reached for his cope. He stooped for her to place it over his head and took the scarlet zucchetto she passed to him, which he fixed himself.
“When might I next see you?” she asked.
He gazed into her eyes, unable to be
lieve how truly smitten she was with him. It amazed him still, even after two years of nights like this one. After all, he was sixty-four and she only twenty-three. “Soon,” he promised.
Sighing, she threw her arms around his neck. “I miss you already, my sweet Franc.”
A rare smile crossed his face. “Shall we make it the morrow, then?”
“Oh, yes,” she agreed with a smile, before kissing him. “I should wear something pretty for you.”
“Or, perhaps, nothing at all?”
She giggled. “I would do that with relish.”
“Then good night, sweet Gina.”
“Take care, my love. I worry when you walk the streets at night.”
He smiled at her. “I have better guards than the pope. I shall be safe enough.”
The cardinal thought back to the first day he spent with her, and it made him smile again. He never thought that moment would come. When it did, he was sure it was the best one of his life.
Her beauty had captivated him the moment he first set eyes on her. She was perfect in every way, and he longed to have her. But he knew there was no prospect of that. She refused men half his age with even greater wealth than he. He did all he could think of. Poetry, flowers, and gifts were but some of things he used to woo her. None of it interested her at all.
She was a daughter of the powerful Orsini family, and beautiful with it. It meant she could have her pick of any man in Rome. The pope had tried many times to secure a marriage between her and his son, Cesare. Her will did not bend. She wanted none of it.
His need for her bordered on obsession. He even paid men to follow her, so he knew where she was at all times. It came to the point where she could take no more. She knew of his desire for her. Her friends learned of it, too, and made jokes about it. She did not share in their humour. It had to end. She waited for the right moment and confronted him in as public a place as she could find. When the moment came, she delivered her scathing rebuke.
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