Count Rothchild

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Count Rothchild Page 8

by Michael W. Huard


  Gaylen passed out!

  Moments later her eyes opened back up as she found the count with a cool towel upon her head. She pushed it and him away from her. She then gave her thoughts on his terrible words.

  “I would expect nothing less now that you have stolen me from my husband.”

  Drakko shook his head. “I am the only one that can save you from the turning.”

  Gaylen gulped, thinking of her wound as her neck area suddenly hurt more than ever. “I …” She hesitated. “I … I cannot trust you, and won’t.”

  Before he would help her more, he confessed, “I have a daughter very much about your age.”

  Gaylen was surprised to hear such.

  Drakko again tended to her wound.

  “Why do you tell me that now?” she asked.

  He removed the towel from her brow, and sighed rather loudly. “There is much I have not told you, thus I wish for you to know such before you judge me so vile.” He pushed his long dark hair from his face. ‘I am not perfect, I make mistakes, and I know this.”

  Gaylen insisted, “You are not a good man!”

  The count knew that already. He laughed a bit at her call out. “I have neglected to tell you many truths. There was another woman I fell in love with; Claudiva was much different than the others. She was a fiery redhead, arrogant and proud. She would rule my attention while performing on stage, her songs of the utmost perfection all over the land. It was then I found myself traveling far and wide to see her perform.”

  Gaylen thought of running from the bedchamber and attempting an escape, but felt it nearly an impossible feat. She stayed thus, listening to him.

  “I knew better than to take a life of someone that lived so fully, but it was her that pursued me; this is the truth, for in the long run, wherever I went in the world, she would turn up always making it a point to perform there, and offer me a front row seat each time.”

  He had her bite mark fully covered up now.

  “To hear her sing was to be in the presence on an angel, the very thought of what my life could have been. Of course, through my own manipulations, I had recovered my properties those of which I told you were sold years before. She learned of my wealth and continued to pursue me even after I realized it should not be. I know it was wrong; I did not want to have her know anything, let alone be close to her, but she did not stop.”

  Gaylen thought the man was truly cursed. Love was always his downfall.

  “Claudiva would surprise me, taking me to places to make love, on the ocean sand, riding in my carriage in the full moonlight, inside the traveling carnival’s fun house, and on a rowboat in the middle of the day on a lovely pond. She was utterly spontaneous and full of life. I could not resist her playful manner; such passion drove me to cherish our time together.”

  His prisoner was not too convinced of his love for the woman. “Are you sure this was not merely lust?” she asked.

  “It was more than that, but eventually she came across me feeding in a bloodbath; it was something I had kept hidden for years from her, and she did not understand. I told her that I had murdered many people in my life; it was part of my business and I was not rich for any other such reason. She understood, but didn't know why there was blood upon my lips at such a killing. She saw me rip a man’s throat out, but did not run away.”

  “You lied to her,” added Gaylen.

  “No, I did not lie. I was protecting her and simply said nothing of who I really was. I tried to make her stay away a multitude of times as well. I explained to her that I was not of the living and that I was no person she should love. She thought me silly saying such. She didn’t believe me, thinking I had to do what I had to do to stay wealthy and stay ahead of the game. I grabbed her by the shoulders and told her that we were ending our relationship, and that we should never see each other again.”

  Gaylen found the story interesting, and the count told her more.

  “She gave me the most sinister smile; it was not what I was expecting. I was ready for tears, yet she offered no such sadness. ‘I want what you have,’ she then announced. ‘I want everything!’ I turned away from her. ‘No,’ I pleaded, ‘this is not to be taken lightly, you have no control at first, you will forever be another person, you will be a monster …’ I guess, like the very name you call me.”

  He said the last line with pained eyes.

  With sadness in hers, Gaylen asked, “So what happened?”

  This man was complicated.

  “In time, I finally gave in and one evening in our typical fit of passion I took her and made her as I.” He held his forehead after stating such upon the palm of his left hand. “It was not what I wanted, Gaylen. I have become a man I never chose to want to be.”

  Galen swallowed, wondering what had become of this Claudiva and also about this daughter he spoke on earlier.

  The count finished up by saying, “I know what you are thinking; we are no longer together. She lives her own life now. And that is that. All that matters now is that we get you back to normal and, I promise, you have my word, I will send you home soon.” He stood up. “I shall return later and we will begin healing you fully.”

  Gaylen called out as he was leaving, “What of your daughter?”

  He left the chamber, not answering.

  Chapter 8

  Upon an island off the sea of the Kingdom of Questor, the men landed the following day. Van Helsing led them to a place he once encountered many years ago. It was there that the Professor made note that the asylum was located in the jungle to the west.

  It took approximately three hours before they reached a body of water within an overgrown patch of woods. There stood the old ruins of said asylum in the very water itself. It was a creepy setting indeed. Dr. Stewart, Jonathan and Alfredo were not quite sure what to think at such a sight.

  Van Helsing needed to ease their thoughts. “Do not fear, my friends; this place has been abandoned for decades. Let us carry on and wade on over and be fast at our goal.”

  Something was in the water as they walked out towards the ruins, and this had the men on edge even more. Each was ready with sword and spear, stopping in their tracks at such movement.

  “It’s some sort of a giant eel,” called Alfredo.

  Luckily for them, whatever it was, it did not attack and soon they were entering the ruins.

  There were a few offices and many rooms, even cells with old torture devices rusted from time spent in mildew.

  Looking about, the four men came to a dark hallway bend and from the shadows something slithered out. The size of a large man, its lower half was of a slimy centipede-like section, its face above a dirty dark brown one, and human looking at that.

  It stopped before them and called forth, ‘”Who is it that disturbs my private domain?”

  Dr. Van Helsing stepped bravely forward and put a hand up for the others to halt. “Be gone, vile demon beast, leave us to do our search.”

  Before he was able to continue chanting out, the creature spit a jet of something at him, a greenish poison stream that struck the man on his cheek.

  It burned Van Helsing’s face, nearly taking his one good eye out, thus sending him stumbling back into the others.

  They then recovered and spread out, drawing their weapons, and began to circle about the monster. Whatever it was, it moved fairly well.

  It hissed again, “Death is all you have come here for. Die, human invaders; fade into the pit of Hades.”

  Alfredo, with his rapier, was first to stab at it and he made good contact, yet the centipede half-breed reached out with many of what seemed like multiple hands and legs and clawed the red-headed man across his shoulder and knee area. He cried out, stating such burned as well to his comrades.

  Emin poked a spear at the thing trying to fend it off, while Jonathan hacked at it with his knife. Professor Van Helsing had what appeared to be a hand axe now and he threw it into the creature’s chest. It reeled in injury and spat out again, this time at
Doctor Emin.

  Alfredo drove his sword deep into the creature’s head and it coiled back and ran up a near wall. The thing moved effortlessly and then leaped back down on the other side of the four men. At least it was bleeding out now, and such was a ghastly yellowish-green liquid, thick and akin to vomit.

  It ran by and clawed into Jonathan next; he bellowed as his calf was dug into, but kept his balance, ramming his knife into the vile monster’s head. This time it wobbled and fell face first to the old stone floor. It wasn’t dead just yet, still moving some.

  Van Helsing took the doctor’s spear from him and began thrusting it into the creature’s back repeatedly and soon it stopped shaking about.

  Each of them examined their wounds and dressed them quickly. The burning was just that and each would be fine. They needed to move on.

  Eventually the men came to what appeared to be the asylum’s headmaster’s own chamber. The remnants of files, a desk and a painting of the entire place from outside in its heyday led them to think such.

  Professor Van Helsing motioned to a nearby door. Jonathan opened it, leading into what appeared to be a small bedroom. Van Helsing told them to seek out a secret floor or wall section.

  A loose floorboard was found, and Jonathan pulled such up and below revealed a large potato burlap sack that which he placed before all.

  The men gathered about it and from within several swords were found. Each of the blades was black as coal, but inlaid in them with smidgens of pearly stones, all shaped to appear as tiny stars. The hilt of each sword was a silver guard and a handle made of the same pearl white color as the stars. Ivory, as it appeared.

  Professor Helsing then announced happily, “These are what we have come for.”

  The others each took a blade and nodded to Van Helsing.

  Jonathan motioned it was time to go. “Let these swords lead the way then. We need to make fast now and find Gaylen and the count’s castle.”

  Alfredo was in agreement. “Back it is to the sea; the island we seek cannot be that far from here.”

  When Drakko returned to Gaylen, she immediately yelled at him. “You claim that you are not like Dracula, your brother, yet you do these things; these horrible things. I don’t want your help; I want to get out of here forever. Let me go, you beast, just set me free now.”

  He was taken aback by her sudden anger. He intended to set her free, but first desired to help her recover from the bite of his minion prior. If he did not set matters aright, she would soon be turned; she, too, would be a monster.

  “I want to help you,” he explained. “Let me see your neck.”

  Gaylen shook her head. “Leave me alone, let me go. My husband and other men are coming to put an end to you. You should prepare for that instead of being here with me.”

  That truly peeved the count. “I am not afraid of anyone,” he hissed out.

  His senses ignited. Who the fuck was this girl? He was the master of all, and he had now had enough of her. He leaped at Gaylen; he ripped open her blouse and buried his face between her bosoms. He licked her nipples and his fangs sprouted out as he made a most wicked gasp.

  Gaylen screamed, pushing him away, yet he was too powerful to shove off of her.

  “I hate you!” she cried out. “Let me go, you animal, let me go!”

  He made his way to her neck; he opened his mouth wide. There it was, an open wound, her bandage now loose, revealing a gateway to her blood. He arched, ready to strike, yet then remembered the opening was not his own.

  Gaylen finally shoved him back. His senses returned to him, and he backed even further away. Gaylen had felt his cold breath on her neck; she was in a daze, and simply terrified. Count Rothchild placed his hands over his face. He then slid them down for him to speak.

  “Such innocence before me; I want to take you. I want to fuck you, but for some reason I …” He hesitated some. “I … must prove to you that I am different from my brother. Thus I shall rein in my carnal urges begging to be released; yes, I will hold back my desire for pleasure.”

  He gazed at the bare-chested, sweet fair-haired and blue-eyed woman beside him.

  “This is no easy task,” he added.

  She put her hands up as to make sure he stayed away.

  Rothchild’s breathing calmed. He licked his lips at what might have been. He still was on the brink of ravishing her, fighting the urge. He sighed rather loudly.

  “If I spread your legs, I will prove otherwise, and if I devour you, and turn you to one of me, I will be as my father and Dracula. Thus I will help heal your wound. I have already scolded its giver; he is no more and this will free you from his charm. I will release you and such action will prove to you who I really am.”

  Gaylen did not know what to think, or quite understand all he was saying. He must have finally finished off her attacker, he who had bit into her. She wanted to believe there was good still in this man, but she was frightened beyond words. Every time she thought such, he changed, and these changes had her on edge.

  Abruptly, much to the count’s surprise, she sat up staring deep into his eyes. She then had a sarcastic tone to her voice.

  “Maybe I will allow you to have me; maybe I will let you indulge that obvious bulge in your trousers as to be between my legs. I can see its outline clearly.” Here she motioned, lifting her skirt up and showing him her frilly panties. “Would you deflower me, take my virginity before I lay with my husband? I ask, would that make you happy?”

  Drakko felt dryness enter into his throat. He tore open his shirt, letting his chest muscles be free. Gaylen saw his defined pectoral muscles and cut abdominals; this man was not of this world. For his age he was muscular and fit. He had a wild temper, a savage was within him.

  He then made a fist with his right hand. “Do not tempt me, woman, or mock me; you need my blood to live even now. If I was to take you as you say, your entire world will change.”

  Gaylen began laughing; she, too, could play a game here. It was better than wetting herself, she thought. The strategy she chose was a trick and she could only hope it worked.

  Count Rothchild stood and retrieved a golden goblet from a shelf. He then cut into his wrist and drained blood into such. He moved to her and offered the goblet to her.

  “Drink it, or you will be undead within a few days.”

  Gaylen took it and did not hesitate to sip from such.

  The fluid inside eased its way down her throat and throughout her own blood and soon the red liquor was already healing her some. It also put her into a deep sleep.

  She would need more of such, and it was going to have to be taken directly from him, this the count now knew. It was the only means for her to fully recover. She still was in danger of turning. He would return soon to start again, to help her.

  Back on the ocean, the foursome made way and eventually arrived on the island of Teevas.

  Following Gaylen’s written directions brought from back home, they inquired about an old graveyard to the far northwest. There was no one on the isle these days too keen on the place, but soon enough they found someone; be it via a hefty offer of golden coins, to lead them that way; thereafter, horses were purchased for the journey as well.

  The ride was rough. On the first night’s rest, a wagon slowly lumbered down the road that which the lookout on first watch - Alfredo, awake by a small fire off the road - heard, and now spotted across the tree area to the right. The horses felt the sudden new arrival and were voicing concern.

  The wagon simply had stopped in the middle of the road.

  Alfredo was at odds as to what to do. Then he heard someone calling out.

  “Hail in the glen out there, are you friend or foe?”

  The sudden loud voice from the road made him leap up and awaken the others. Each man, Emin Stewart, Van Helsing, Jonathan, and Alfredo, drew forth their new magical blades.

  “Don’t be afraid now,” the boisterous voice called out. “We’re not here to harm you. We are taking a brief stop
. No need to get all nervous.”

  Jonathan drew forth a branch and lit it in the fire as the men made way over more to the road.

  There, sitting upon the wagon, was a bear of a man with long hair and an equally as long brown beard. He was truly a large fellow, yet his face through the firelight appeared friendly enough.

  “I’m Hagar,” he boldly announced with a hand up for such a greeting. “I am merely a simple merchant on my way south. Who may you all be?”

  Introductions were made as the men kept a cautious eye on the man who had not left the seat of his two-horse covered wagon.

  Van Helsing lit a bullseye lantern and everyone could see in the dark far clearer now. A small black and white monkey then came out from the back of the wagon and ran over to stand in front of them.

  Hagar lifted both his big arms up. “There you are; gentlemen, meet Chee Chee.”

  The monkey then did a dance, spinning about, and then a back flip to entertain the onlookers.

  “Is he a performer? Is that what you do; are you part of a circus?” asked Jonathan.

  Chee Chee seemed grumpy at such a statement.

  “No, no,” spoke Hagar, “we’re merchants, not some side show.” He laughed at such a description and then told Chee Chee to show them what they were all about.

  The little monkey ran back to the wagon and returned with two tall wine bottles. Inside each was a dark red liquid. The monkey smiled broadly, revealing a set of wide white teeth. He then nodded up and down as to be happy to show his wares and walked over offering such to the men.

  “That’s kind of you,” said Professor Van Helsing, “but we’re on a most serious mission and it would be best we do not indulge in such fine spirits at this particular time.”

  “Ah, save it for a special occasion,” the big man bellowed out. “Take the bottles, they’re on the house. Think of such as a gift to such brave men.”

  Brave men? thought Van Helsing. How would he know that they required courage? It had him thinking on who these two really were.

 

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