She trembled at the sound of his voice. Closing her eyes, she whispered a prayer for the safety of her and her baby.
“Pretty little peasant girl?” he continued. “Open the door. If not, I shall have to huff, and puff, and blow your house down.”
He listened with his ear to the door. There was not a sound inside. His eyes fell on the axe protruding from the peasant’s back. He walked over to the dead man and, pressing a foot between his shoulder blades, yanked it free.
Varkal grinned again. “Let us see for how long you can hide from me.”
Beads of sweat trickled from his brow. He wiped them away with a sleeve and headed back towards the shack.
TRANSYLVANIA. THE FORESTS NEAR BRASOV.
OCTOBER, 1494. THE SAME EVENING.
The axe crashed down against the door. Under the bed, the woman put her hand over her mouth to muffle her cry. The baby stirred in her arms.
She moved her hand away from her own mouth and put it gently over his. “Hush,” she said, soothing him. “Be a good boy for Mama.”
A second blow against the door shook the shack to its foundations. The woman cried out again. It would not take him much longer to get inside her home. She thought of her husband, and the reality struck her that he must be dead.
Tears streamed down the sides of her face. “Oh, Cosmin,” she cried.
Varkal grew more and more eager to get inside. Images of the woman naked in the pool flashed through his mind. He had not enjoyed an encounter such as this for a time now, and he wanted her. It was the first time he had had to kill another to get to his quarry. But in trying to save her, the dead man had only served to whet his appetite further.
He pushed his foot against the door to help pry the axe loose. It had smashed a hole big enough for him to see through. He stopped for a moment and peered into the small living area. “Pretty little peasant girl,” he said out loud. “I am coming.”
The space she hid in allowed her no room to move. She shivered so much her knees knocked against the wooden slats. It caused the bed, which her husband had crafted with his own hand, to vibrate a little.
The door came crashing down. As hard as she tried to stop herself, she cried out again. It led him right to her. He walked into the small side bedroom. In one corner, he saw a low bed and in another, an empty cot.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he teased.
A spider crawled across her naked breast. She whimpered and brushed it off. He was sure to know her hiding place now.
“I wonder where you could be,” he said, walking back to the other room. “Are you hiding in here?”
She had not fed the baby yet. Its tummy grumbled, and it wanted her milk. When it cried out, she placed a firm hand over its mouth. She held it there, hoping the stranger still did not know their location.
He returned to the bedroom. “Perhaps you are in here after all.”
Her child struggled beneath her hand to breathe. It pained her to have to do it. She could see the feet of the stranger only a yard or two away.
“Are you under the bed, I wonder?”
She forgot him in an instant. The baby had stopped moving.
“Carol!” she cried, not caring about Varkal any longer.
Suddenly, the bed rose from above her as Varkal lifted it and threw it back. He looked down on the naked woman and her blue-faced child. “I told you I would find you,” he said, running his tongue over his lower lip.
She turned her head and glared up at him. “Can you not wait!”
Her outburst took him a little aback. She returned to her child. “Carol!” she repeated his name, shaking him.
The baby did not respond. In a panic, she pushed a finger into his little mouth. She pushed his tongue down flat and then exhaled a lungful of air into him.
Carol coughed and choked. She held him tight to her breast and burst into tears. “Good boy,” she whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
Varkal traced a line with his eyes down her back to her thighs. His mouth felt dry and he rubbed his hand over it. The ache in him grew ever stronger, and he could wait no longer. “Put the child down,” he said, his tone cold and firm.
She looked up at him, knowing what he had in mind, and fearful of it. His eyes cut right through her as if to confirm it to her. From his gaze, she sensed a threat to her baby and cradled him, to try and shield him from harm. Her fears for her own safety had all but gone. “He stopped breathing,” she shouted, in a venomous tone.
“Put him down in his cot. If not, he might fashion the end of my sword. I doubt you would be able to revive him then.”
She looked at him with hatred burning in her eyes. He had killed her husband and now he threatened her baby with the same. All to satisfy an urge in his crotch.
He watched her lay the child down in the cot. It cried again to go on her breast.
“He is hungry,” she said, looking for a little compassion.
He had none. “The brat can wait, but I cannot. Get over here!”
She put an arm across her breasts to shield them from his eyes. Cold shivers ran right through her. What worse fate could a woman endure than to have to pleasure the man who has just killed her husband?
He pushed the bed down flat again. She walked gingerly toward him, her thighs close together. He loosened his breeches and released his swollen erection.
She looked down at it with a degree of fear. “Please, not in here. Not in the same room as my child.”
Varkal dismissed her request and pushed her down hard onto the bed. The force of her fall splintered some of the slats her husband had crafted with such painstaking care. Varkal discarded his clothes and let his sword fall to the floor. “You had best be good to me, wench,” he warned. “Lest you and your baby should both feel my sword.”
He pushed her thighs apart with his hands. She closed her eyes and trembled as he cast his over her. Then, parting her legs by the calves, he went down on her.
She tried to think of Cosmin. The last moments she shared with him entered her mind. He was the only man who had ever known her in this way.
Varkal probed her with his tongue, and she shuddered at his invasion of her. He was the most despicable of men, as were all the men of noble birth she had encountered. They took what they wanted when they wanted. The day had turned into a nightmare. When would it ever end? She just wanted to be alone to mourn her beloved husband.
He stopped and grabbed her by the hair, tugging hard at the roots before dragging her to the edge of the bed. She cried out and clutched his wrists as he pulled her down towards his throbbing manhood. “Make it feel good,” he warned.
When she hesitated, he slapped her across the back of the head. The blow brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to scream, but knew it was not a good idea, as afraid as she was. God only knows what he might do to my baby. Perhaps if I give him what he wants, he might leave us be.
She grimaced as she closed her lips around it. His taste and smell sickened her. It occurred to her to bite him, but it would only result in her losing Carol too. She could bear anything but that. The act he wanted her to perform, terrified her. She had rarely ever done it before. Until now, it had always been something special.
Due to her lack of experience, she was a trifle clumsy and caught him with her teeth. It made him crazy. He pushed her away before punching her in the face. For a moment, the blow stunned her. She put up a hand and recoiled in horror when she felt the blood oozing from her broken nose.
“You clumsy bitch!” he snarled, as he struck her again. “You are nothing but a whore! Even as the blood lies warm in your husband’s veins, do you have another man’s meat in your mouth!”
She could not understand his outburst. His face twisted with anger, even though she had done what he wanted. What more can I do?
Rising from her knees, she stood up on the bed. She glared at him and lashed out without even thinking. It took him completely by surprise when she slapped him hard across the face. Her
action was born more out of fear for the welfare of her and her child than courage.
For a moment, he just stood there and gave her a blank stare. It came as a shock to him that she might fight back. As he regained his composure, his temper boiled within. He clenched his fist to strike her again.
She did not give him the chance. Before he could deliver the blow, she kicked him full in the groin. He doubled over in agony and dropped to his knees. She felt real triumph and her heart raced as she jumped off the bed.
He remained on his knees with both hands tight to his crotch. His face turned dark red as he fought for breath. The woman stepped past him and picked up his sword. He had not anticipated that she might fight back, and it stunned him.
She held it out before her in a threatening manner. Her nerves were so frayed that she could scarcely manage even that. She took a deep breath. “Get out of my home, you murdering bastard!” she shouted. “Before I stick you with it!”
He looked up at her, and then at the sword. To back up her threat, she thrust the weapon at him, forcing him to take evasive action. He ducked sideways and fell on his stomach. The sword missed his face by inches, but the fall crushed his aching testicles. He groaned again in pain.
“Be gone!” she screamed at him.
She allowed him to get to his feet. He squinted his eyes in anger. She did the same, though more out of contempt. He wiped a trickle of blood from his lower lip where she had slapped him. She watched as he licked it off the back of his hand and grinned.
His confidence even now unnerved her. She so badly wanted to drive the sword through his belly. However, he was the Captain of the Guard and she but a lowly peasant woman. No matter what he had done to provoke her, she would surely hang for it.
Thinking about it broke her concentration. Varkal saw her eyes wander and ran past her, grabbing the baby from the cot. She looked on in horror when he wrapped an arm around the body of her child. His other hand he pressed against the baby’s throat.
She stepped closer to him, her mood growing more agitated as she raised the sword above her head. “Put my baby down!”
Even then, he could not take his eyes from her breasts. He smiled at the threat, unnerving her even more when it broadened to a sinister grin. Her lower lip trembled. She knew he would hurt Carol to get what he wanted.
As if reading her mind, he said in a low growl, “If you do not drop the sword, I will choke the life out of the child. It is your choice. Do it, or the child dies.”
The woman hesitated. She took a moment to weigh up her options. The safety of her child had to take precedence, and she had no choice but to comply with his demand. Her face showed her dismay, but there was nothing she could do.
She feared what he might do now after this episode. His eyes indicated he intended to make her pay for her actions. Whatever that entailed, she had to make the right choice and could not risk the life of her baby. Lowering her head in defeat, she dropped the sword to the floor.
“Get down on your knees!” he ordered.
She did as he said without taking her eyes from him. He gritted his teeth and tossed the baby over her head.
“Carol!” she screamed in horror.
She turned to see her child hit the floor a few feet away. It neither cried nor moved. A horrible feeling passed through her. Is my baby dead?
In her state of panic, she forgot Varkal. He walked up to her and kicked her hard in the abdomen. The blow paralysed her. A sickening groan escaped her throat as she fell into the foetal position on the floor, gasping for air. With both hands, she clutched at her stomach. Still, her eyes focused on her baby only a few feet away. It crushed her knowing she could do nothing for him now.
She struggled to her feet, all fears for her own well-being now gone. Varkal grabbed her by the hair again, forcing her to cry out in pain as he dragged her into the other room.
He pinned her arms behind her back. She had no fight left, and it brought a smile to his face. Now he could have what he wanted. Eyeing the table, he knocked the few utensils on it down onto the floor. He then pushed her down against it.
The woman let him do as he pleased. With her head pinned to the table, she had a view into her bedroom. She could see the lower half of Carol’s body on the earthen floor. Tears stung her eyes. Closing them, she wished she would die.
TRANSYLVANIA. THE FORESTS NEAR BRASOV.
OCTOBER, 1494. SUNSET ON THE SAME EVENING.
Varkal’s lieutenant dismissed the men after he rode off into the forest. With a trusted aide at his side, he decided to follow his captain. Varkal had been so eager to get away that it more than aroused his curiosity. It was not the first time he had done this. He wanted to know where his superior had gone, and, the reason for doing so.
He hated Varkal more than any other man. The captain had long stood in the way of the progression of his own career. As the son of the boyar, Victor Florescu, he believed Varkal’s role should have been his. He longed to find a way to smear his rival’s reputation. Then he might get what should have been his position as a birthright.
The lieutenant and his aide witnessed the duel outside the shack. They saw him kill the peasant farmer in cold blood with the axe. Right away, he sent his man back to the garrison to get help. He then watched as his rival smashed his way into the shack.
When Varkal disappeared inside, he tethered his horse and followed. He climbed down the sloping rocks near to the cascade. The dead man lay close by. He smiled when he passed him, and whispered a thank you. The man’s death would provide him with the ammunition he needed to end the career of the one he so despised.
Varkal kept the woman pinned against the table with his legs. He reached for a skirt that rested on a stool nearby and, after tearing off two strips of the material, he tied her hands behind her back. She groaned at his roughness.
“I see you are no longer so brazen. Are you, bitch?” he cursed.
She did not answer. Inside, she felt numb. She cared for nothing he said or did to her. Her whole world had caved in. With it, she had lost her will to live.
When he kicked her legs apart, she hardly noticed. His erection strained with the excitement as he reached down between her legs. She felt his fingers probe her, but did not flinch. He did not care that she was not moist or that she was unresponsive. Holding his fingers against the insides of her opening, he guided himself in.
She cried out as he entered her. He grabbed at her breasts with such vigour that it brought fresh tears to her eyes.
The lieutenant stood at the open doorway, though Varkal did not see him there. He felt compelled to rescue the woman. The urge to walk up behind his rival and kill him was strong. Then other thoughts entered his head. Soon the Guard would arrive in numbers. He wanted to see Varkal shamed and humiliated. For that, he needed them to witness this crime.
Varkal was oblivious to all but his own pleasure. The distress he caused the woman only fuelled his own excitement, his climax not far away. His urgency building, he tore another strip of material from the skirt. He wrapped it several times around her neck before pulling it tight.
It cut off her air supply at once, and her eyes bulged under the strain. For the first time that day, she felt real terror. Even though she had just wished for death, the reality of it was another thing.
The stories she had heard flashed through her mind. She realised she was about to be the next victim in a long line of sex murders in the region. Everyone she knew had spoken of them. A series of women, both young and old, who lived alone or in remote areas had suffered this same fate. Their killer had raped and then strangled them. With Cosmin at her side, she had never feared such a fate might befall her. Her husband was once a fine soldier, and he had always kept her safe.
She fought in vain to free her hands, though it prompted Varkal to lean harder against her. He trapped her thighs with his and pulled tighter on the strip around her neck. His thrusts grew faster and harder. She did not notice, although each one almost lifted her from th
e table. Her face had turned purple, and her tongue swelled in her mouth.
“Come on,” he urged.
The sweat poured from his face and coated the rest of his naked torso. He pounded her harder in the hope he could reach the moment. Her vision blurred and her mind clouded over. Only the tiniest amount of air remained in her lungs and she knew her time was up. For a brief moment, she saw everything with real clarity, and her fears began to ebb away. She embraced death, knowing it would reunite her with those she loved.
Her bladder opened in a flood over his genitalia.
“Yes!” he cried out.
It was the moment he had craved to satisfy his perversion. The first girl he had killed did the same. From that moment on, he had sought it from each of his victims. His knees buckled with his orgasm, and the woman collapsed beneath him, her life ending in that moment. He thrust a few more times until he had emptied his sac.
He released his grip on the material. When he did, her head dropped forward and smacked against the table. Breathing hard, he flopped in a heap on top of her.
The lieutenant looked into her staring, bloodshot eyes. He then turned his attention to the man he loathed. The wretch had no way out of this one. It was Varkal all along who had killed these women. Soon, he would watch him swinging from a tree. “Varkal!” he shouted. “It is you! It has always been you!”
His outburst startled his rival. Varkal withdrew from the woman and stepped back. Her body slid from the table and fell to the floor at his feet.
“You are the one we have been looking for.”
The wretch walked slowly toward him, making no attempt to hide his now-flaccid penis. The lieutenant drew his sword, and brandished it to let Varkal know he was prepared to use it. Oh, how he so wanted to use it.
The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood Page 14
