by Spark, Luc
Thomas was about to have a bloody nervous episode of epic proportions…
(Authors note: The phrase ‘It won’t happen again’ actually means, yes it will happen again just not for a while, by which time you will have forgotten and is what many an employee will say to buy some time in the great world of work.)
Castle Dracula, Romania 1460
Viorel felt like he had hidden for what seemed like an eternity. The wailing screams of the dark lord Vlad had gone. If the king was not dead then he must have been turned into a mute. Viorel knew at this moment in time that Kristen had turned him into a vampire-but why he had been spared from death still was not clear in his head.
Maybe it was because the vampire admired Viorel’s courage under extreme stress. Or maybe Viorel was just plain lucky. He did own a black cat back home as a pet with his parents…
But then the awful realization set in. How could he ever see anyone he knew ever again? Could he trust his own vampire blood thirst to not want to drain them? Would he be able to control his newly acquired strength? And stop himself from drinking the entire population of Bucharest like wine from a barrel. He knew that if his hunger grew without interruption from his still human mind, he could become a harbinger of death. The very thought of this made him want to throw up, he was only too aware that all vampires must go through this moral questioning and that eventually, the dark side wins.
“Viorel come back into the hall, we have much to discuss!” shouted a raised voice.
“We know your there Viorel so you might as well come back; otherwise we’ll come and find you,” said another.
There was no way out of the corridor he had chosen to run down, the end was clearly dead as a doornail. He didn’t have much choice; the last thing he wanted was to have all the other vampires want to kill him. Viorel cautiously moved back towards the hall.
“Come on your one of us now, don’t fight us-embrace us,” a voice said stoutly.
Viorel entered once again into the great hall, Vlad’s body was on the floor, fang marks were covering his now rotting corpse.
“My god what have you done to him?” asked Viorel in a distressed manner.
“You do not know young vampire, what do your eyes tell you?” asked the tallest vampire.
“Well yes I do but I thought I’d ask anyway, I shed no tears for this man he deserves no empathy,” said Viorel
The tallest vampire took Viorel’s right arm and touched him on the elbow.
“My name is Dretore and these are my closest friends and associates,” he said.
Dretore pointed out and named each of his friends to Viorel.
“This is Ivan to my left, and Alexis to my right, behind you, is Violet and Elena” stated Dretore. He continued-”The vampire who made you was Kristen, we did not know him too well, he did not socialize in our circles”
“Yes I know his name, Vlad told me so,” said Viorel.
He had a side-glance at Vlad’s rotten body on the marble floor; the blood that had been squeezed out of his body must have been liters. Viorel wondered if now that Vlad was a goner that these vampires would lay claim to his castle.
“Viorel we believed that Vlad was our friend, but we had been eaves dropping on the entire conversation between you, him and Kristen, we reacted in a just manner,” Dretore said defensively.
With this, he added, “Also we got word from a carrier pigeon sent to us from the Ottoman Empire that Vlad’s time was to be over”.
“That’s very much correct, if what Vlad said was true then we must also find this mage and have him executed too,” said Ivan.
“Easier said than done Ivan, any mage worth his salt will probably have some invisibility potion that will make him impossible to track down” stated Violet.
“Why did we even trust the self-centered tyrant in the first place?” asked Elena.
The vampires all looked at each other; Elena’s question had hit the nail on the head and struck a nerve with Dretore.
“Elena we wanted to believe that in this messed up world that there was at least one human on our side, we believed him because he had all the hallmarks of a friend,” Dretore said angrily.
“Dretore humans and vampires cannot be friends or even associates, they are inferior to us and that’s the way it will always be,” said Elena.
“And what do we do with Viorel now?” queried Alexis.
“Excuse me am I some piece of meat or something?” Viorel replied.
“In short we all are just pieces of meat, however, Viorel we outnumber you so shut up for now” slammed Dretore.
“Why do I have to be threatened, if you want to finish me off then get it over with,” said Viorel.
Viorel was sick and tired of what was transpiring in his life, why could he not of taken a different route this night. Next time he’ll go home before nightfall, except there would not be the next time…
A look of mutual agreement formed on the faces of the vampires, an obvious decision had been made. The apparent leader turned to face Viorel.
“Okay all of us have decided to, first of all, let you know what we do to earn our keep, even we have to make a living, so we can afford the finer things in life,” Dretore said proudly.
“Surely you jest, don’t you just take whatever you want, it’s not like any human could stop you?” asked Viorel.
The vampires gave Viorel a deep cold look as if he had somehow touched a nerve. He did not know what was going to be the end result of this conversation.
“Your right of course, yes we could do that but we choose to tread a more moral path-we still fear God or be it a higher power and want to be as moralistically just as we can be,” said Dretore.
“Surely as vampires we are all cursed and have no hope of redemption, are we not guaranteed a fiery end with eternal damnation?” Viorel harked.
Violet stepped up to the fray.
“Your mistaken young vampire, just because we’re no longer human does not mean were automatically evil, don’t be so quick to stereotype,” she said.
“It’s candid to say-yes we drink blood, yes we sleep in coffins, and true we cannot survive in sunlight-but why should that automatically make us hell spawns?” questioned Ivan in a macho tone. This question really shook Viorel, perhaps this grouping of vampires had become so accustomed to their plight that they could now see beyond their failings and understand themselves better than any human ever could understand his or herself. The mere fact that these vamps were ‘working’ intrigued Viorel more than anything-he could not imagine them having normal dead end jobs like bailing hay or mucking out horses, it had to be something unusual that they were about to tell him.
“Understand that we have the ability to read your mind, we know you can’t imagine us with normal human type jobs, like working on a farm or collecting taxes, and your right and just in thinking in such a way,” said Dretore.
“Let’s cut to the chase, we work in the simplest way to put it as contract killers” confirmed Ivan.
“You mean assassins?” asked Viorel.
“Yes that would be a suitable acronym, we are killers for hire, the wealthy and royal hire us to help them get rid of would be threats to their empires” Dretore boasted.
He continued “Vlad had betrayed a very influential and powerful man who reigns in the Ottoman Empire, and said individual paid us very handsomely to remove him from existence”.
Viorel made no reaction or at least his expression was one of stony poker faced indifference.
“Vlad had garnered many enemies during his time, but this enemy was the one he should not have crossed” Dretore concluded.
“As well as the financial reward we sometimes get offered human blood slaves from members of the aristocracy” Ivan quipped.
“The blood of the aristocrat is the finest of all, the sweetest blood in all of mankind-you can taste their wealth and power in the red and white cells,” said Alexis.
“This can be young princes who have refused to do their su
perior Royals bidding, like marrying a certain princess that kind of thing” stated Ivan.
“Happens a lot more than you would think Viorel, it saves them having to kill the defilers publicly,” said Violet.
There was a tooting sound coming from outside one of the enormous windows that surrounded the hall. Within another fifteen seconds, a wolf’s howl could be heard, the atmosphere could not be more Gothic and dark. The vampires looked at each other and had a mutual chuckle at the wolf’s lack of pitch. The windows of the great hall were covered with colored images of Christ and old worshiped deities. The biggest window just above Vlad’s decaying stinking and foul corpse.
“I’m getting sick of the smell of that corpse,” said Alexis.
“What shall we do with it?” asked Ivan.
The vampires all shrugged their shoulders at the question.
“I know let’s take it outside and into the forest, the wolves can have their way with it,” said Dretore.
“Okay sounds good let’s do it now, the smell is becoming unbearable,” said Violet.
The forest they were referring too was a quiet and large one that spanned many miles around the castle and surrounding areas. In this forest lived lots of different animals-some believed to be created by mage power. The forest had many plants, trees, and flowers. Some of these could not be found anywhere else in the world. The mages used some of this flora to develop potions and spells for good and evil purposes.
A lot of money could be made by harvesting these floras. Climate wise it was mostly wet and chilly most of the year, sunlight had a hard time penetrating the depths of the forest. Local folklore had driven the belief into traveler’s minds that werewolves were roaming around the center of the forest, looking for lost peasants to devour. The forest was not a good place to go to unless you had no regard for your own life…
“It will take only two of us to carry him, I’ll do it but let’s hurry up,” Ivan said irritably.
“What about Viorel, we have more to discuss with him,” said Violet.
“Well you go ahead and carry on talking things over with our new friend, we will dump this corpse, he can be carrion for the beasts,” said Dretore.
The two vampires Ivan and Dretore moved towards the increasingly putrid corpse, Ivan scooped up Vlad by his neck, the veins were bare for everyone to see, they had done a proper good job on him, and Dretore grabbed his legs. They moved him on out via the West-side door, this then lead to the drawbridge. Ivan momentarily lowered the corpse down to the floor.
“I’ll just get the key for the lock on this thing,” he said.
“Okay Ivan but please be quick my nostrils are starting to recede into my skull from the fetor,” said Dretore.
“Ha, you would think that us vampires would not care for a bit of deathly stink-goes to show that we have standards” Ivan chortled.
Back in the great hall, Viorel was starting to feel a certain attachment and kinship towards his new found friends. He started to wonder if he could begin to enjoy his new found identity, if he had others to share it with, perhaps it would not be so bad after all.
“Wait until you meet some of the other female vampire’s, you won’t be so unhappy then, they are more beautiful and amazing than anything you have ever seen in a mere human” Violet said happily.
“I have always been curious as to what a female vampire would look like, I imagined pretty yet deadly to boot,” Viorel said dreamily.
“Well, then you would be spot on, look your one of us now so there is no point in fighting it…embrace the new life you have been given” preached Violet.
Viorel knew he could not turn back the hands of time on what had happened, he was about to try and become content with his new deck of cards…
Berlin, Germany 1975
Marcello had finished up with his university friends at the great coffee house Yezi. As expected the house coffee had gone down a treat with him and his friends. He decided to head to the great library, he needed some new books to study, and it was one of life’s joys to be able to learn something new every day. Learning something new was what Marcello prided himself on; he hated to not know things and knowledge, as they say, is power.
It was nightfall and the street lights were being put to full use, lighting up the many pubs and clubs of the center. A man ran past him, full jogging suit on, ‘How admirable to be so dedicated as to go running at night’ Marcello thought.
The man must have been either dedicated or just a bit strange maybe. The strange part came into Marcello’s thought process-because the man had been wearing pink bottoms.
Our budding vicar decided to have a whistle to himself-a tune from America by some Californian rock band. He was out of timing but did not care much, it’s not like anyone was close enough to criticize him.
The great library had pretty much every book under the sun, everything from books on “Undead Morris dancing” to a book on “How to beat a monkey at banana picking”. The librarian woman was of petite stature, a woman in her early forties but still pleasant on the eye to young male students, Marcello included. As he entered the front entrance a hunched up old German man slipped past him, he looked slightly flustered. Marcello noticed just as the man had turned his back to walk away up the street that the guy had a copy of “How to chat to female sheep” in paperback form. This was good enough to give Marcello a much-needed chuckle, the things some folk get up to in private. Still each to their own he laughed to himself and continued up to the counter where his favorite librarian was sat twiddling her long blonde hair. He could feel a semi erection coming on, what a woman that she could do this and she had not even looked or said a word to him yet. Marcello did his best to think of politics to calm down his expanding trouser wood and progressed to stand in front of her at the front desk. She looked up at his face that clearly showed that he was trouser tenting over her; she had a glint in her eye that suggested that she was partial to young guys.
“Yes can I help you sir?” she said.
The fact that she had just spoken made him want to drool like a dog.
“Oh err yes I’m looking for a book on the Jesuits or perhaps a tome on Judaism,” Marcello said with a flustered manner.
“Okay let me check our records to see if we have your required literature, this should take only a moment,” said the lady.
Marcello had managed to get some self-control back; he did this by reminding himself that was supposed to be an upcoming man of the cloth.
“Here we are sir, the book you seek is on the top shelf at the back of the library” she confirmed. She Continued, “I will have to get the steps out and reach up to get it for you”.
“Thanks for helping me out, shall I wait here?” asked Marcello.
“Oh don’t worry about that, why don’t you come with me, I may need someone to balance the steps, and we would not want me to fall on my bottom would we?” she flirted.
“This is beyond my religious convictions she is an alluring lady,” Marcello thought to himself. He was quickly losing all desire to think of what would a man of the cloth not do. He was only going to be young once, and it was not like anyone would ever find out when he came to power. Marcello believed that this could be the last chance to have a quick adventure. This woman was obviously up for it; you did not need a degree in aeronautics to see what she was implying. His instincts were usually correct and had not let him down in the past.
“I would be glad to do that, we don’t want you falling off them steps do we?” said Marcello.
“Follow me, young man, it’s over this way, oh and what is your name?” she asked.
“Marcello is my name, I’m originally from Lombardy, Italy and I’m studying here at the Werp University,” Marcello said quickly.
He could feel his dreams coming true, soon he would not be able to “enjoy a woman” ever again, this could very well be his last chance for some of that great old game of how’s your father?
Meanwhile Jürgen was making himself a cup of Ge
rman tea, black of course with a generous serving of milk, sugar and a pinch of lemon-he was deep in thought ‘That Marcello is a proper bird brain, he thinks he is so special just because he has his grouping of fools from the university, but his confidence is very fleeting, I know his game he thinks he can back me into a corner until I force myself to go out with him and his crew, well he can sod that for a game of toy soldiers’.
The kettle was about to conclude it’s boiling of the water, Jürgen had his tea bag primed and ready to dip into his Napoleon mug. Jürgen decided to not worry about Marcello’s antics, it’s not like they were lovers and soon his flatmate would be moving out anyway to pursue his priest’s career. Jürgen knew that his career would take him over the world-political leaders would pay well for his knowledge of chemicals, he had formulas for bio weapons nobody on earth had any concept of knowing existed. His bank balance was not too healthy at the moment, not since that fraud case where someone had stolen his checkbook and made out some fraudulent checks to an unknown company, which had then relieved him of his savings. He was down to his last hundred Deutsch marks, but he was more than aware the money would start flowing to him in rivers once he had graduated. Life was adequate, our young chemist did not need the love of women and the joy of friendship to make him get out of bed, only the thought of fat wads of cash and living in security mattered to him-and he knew exactly how he was going to get it…
Bucharest, Romania 1826
The arrival of Thomas back at his home gave his wife a lift in spirits; she had been cleaning all-day and worrying about their future. Thomas took off his coat and went to sit in his favorite chair.
