Count Rothchild

by Michael W. Huard

  Walking up the long dirt road at that time as to appear normal, I saw a woman coming from the cornfield’s other side. She wore layers of clothing coupled with a skirt and a high-collared blouse. Her beige sun hat was wide and the front covered her eyes even though today the sun was minimal.

  She called out to me. “Who are you and what are you do you doing on my property?”

  I believed I had found Jezebel.

  I went about lying. I simply told her I had come to protect her. She did not seem too afraid of such a stranger and came right up to me. Upon hearing my word, she took her hat off and smiled. She was an older woman, maybe late fifties, early sixties; her hair was still brown with a mix of light gray, and she was pretty for her age with hazel eyes bright and full of life.

  This could not be Jezebel, I now realized. In all conversation, Adrian was a young man and this woman was not near such.

  She asked, “Protect me from what, you say?”

  I told her I did not say.

  She laughed some and made note that I appeared strong enough and had a body that appeared in good shape. Of course I thanked her, noting that she, too, looked good for her age. She then led me to her wraparound porch, offering me a glass of lemonade, which was sitting on the porch in a large glass container. Overall she was fairly nice. We made pleasantries.

  A much younger woman appeared from out of the house.

  “This is my daughter,” the elder lady announced. “Jez, we have a guest!”

  Jezebel was attractive with long brown hair and a lovely face accompanied by the biggest of brown eyes. Her bosoms were more than ample and she had the most perfect of white teeth.

  She was in her early twenties, I guessed, dressed in a simple blue sundress. A short dress in which my eyes found their way looking down to her exposed smooth legs.

  I found myself hoping the daughter would be as pleasant as her mother, but this was not the case. She seemed confused, if not afraid on seeing me on their porch.

  “Why are you here?” she roughly asked with a squint.

  Her mother replied for me. “He’s claimed to be here to protect us. There, as he claims, is a wandering creature in the region.”

  Jezebel immediately countered, “I don’t know of any monster about. This is silly.”

  The interesting thing was I had not mentioned monster whatsoever. These two knew something. I needed these ladies to work with me here. Mom and daughter was quite a pair. They looked alike, separated by perhaps twenty years.

  Her mother then asked if she could see my credentials as to me being who I claim; a protector or, as she might have assumed, a law person. Of course I had none.

  I became frustrated and told both that I would leave them be if that was what they wanted.

  “Yes,” spoke Jezebel, “I think you should be on your way; we’re fine here.”

  I grinned at her and felt myself drawn to her pouty lips and shiny white teeth. “Listen, both of you,” I now explained, trying to remain calm. “Trust me; you do not want me going anywhere.”

  Mother and daughter were ready to push me down the porch stairs, but as my tone changed and I explained that I was man of faith and knew the danger they were facing; they seemed to listen more closely. It had dawned on me the cross outside spoke to them; at least I would think such, thus I played the religious card.

  “I’m here to help, as God is my witness,” I repeated and, with my charming manner and manipulation, they finally invited me in.

  We sat at their table talking some finally, and Jezebel began to open up to me. I learned her mother’s name was Eleanor.

  “Sir,” she said rather quietly in tone, “there has been a young man who was out and about here for a while as of late; his name is Adrian. He was someone I knew when we were younger and he suddenly found us out here and came offering to help around the farm.”

  I asked where he was now. Neither of the women knew for sure. Eleanor went on, saying he simply stopped showing up one day.

  How interesting.

  “He must have said something,” I made mention to Jezebel. “Tell me everything he said before he was never seen since.”

  I need to take a break from writing now, have a good smoke from my pipe. I’ll be back soon.

  Drakko Del Rothchild new Journal entry

  I needed answers still, so I kept asking about him, this Adrian, and soon enough Jezebel told me he had said he was afraid he would hurt her and had to go away. Her exact words were, “He told me he would devour me!”

  We ended up having dinner and I shared in a meal of beef stew, and warm biscuits.

  I had to deal with my own desires for this young farmer girl. She was what I called a worker; she labored hard and received plentiful fresh air and her body was solid and firm. It excited me to see such natural beauty. For the love of me, I could not destroy another female’s life. Her mother was fit as well; these farm women worked hard. I started thinking I could use my charm and we could have a threesome! Then again, I wanted to help these women, yet I was about to do more harm than not.

  After we had eaten and talked, I saw that her mother had noticed my stares towards her daughter. She knew; it was a mother’s intuition. The daughter left to clean the plates and I sat now face to face with Eleanor.

  “Jezebel and I appreciate the aspect of you here as a protector, but I beg of you, leave my daughter alone. I see the way you look at her. You study the contours of her body, you run your eyes along her bosoms and down to her curvaceous bottom; you fool no one, sir.”

  I gulped at her sudden forwardness. Had my charm spell worn off?

  She then added, “I have to say, please don’t, just leave my daughter alone.” I was about to discuss such, yet she was not finished. “I know you’re not whom you say, you are undoubtedly something much more. Again I ask, please leave my daughter alone.”

  I watched as she stood. She was in great shape for her age. I loved how some women advanced in such but kept their hair still long. It was attractive and sexy.

  Every part of me wanted to use my abilities to make Eleanor change her mind about me with her Jez, as she liked to call her daughter. Before I make any such move, she made me a counter offer.

  “You may have me instead,” she said unexpectedly.

  I instantly considered the offer, for she was worthy of my desire for mating. I agreed after a brief debate in my mind. A passionate release would help me move on and, as she said, help me forget about Jezebel.

  They let me stay the night in the barn, waiting to see if Adrian came about again. He did not.

  The next evening I found myself invited inside to stay in their guest room. The next evening there still was no sign of him. However, Jezebel’s mother suddenly entered into the room wearing nothing but a rosy red nightie.

  “As to our agreement,” she said as she climbed in the bed.

  My sexual cravings were at the forefront of my thoughts as she crawled closer, pressing her body to mine. She kissed my neck, then my cheek and licked my lips as I felt her heat rise.

  I could feel the throbbing of a carotid artery, so close. I could smell her sexual being as well; she must have prepared herself prior to coming into my guest room. I would take her. I would make her mine and do my best not to take her daughter as well. She touched my pectoral muscles now, squeezing such, and again kissed me on the lips. She was aggressive and I was fine with it; better her an animal, than I. She had been stale for quite some time, I could tell. She was rather excited, yet yearning to be touched in a way she had not had in a long, long time.

  I gave her all of me and she consumed my member inside of her. She urged me on and I felt my fangs start to jut out. I controlled myself, I fought it.

  Soon she was exhausted from my endurance. Our lovemaking lasted nearly an entire hour. There was no blood on the bed; that was a good thing.

  I was gone before either of the women wakened the next morning. I had been told that Adrian, when showing up in human form, had a craving for
meat. He was not coming back, as it appeared, so I had to leave on the hunt.

  He was out there somewhere in the wilderness and I would find him.

  Chapter 23

  A sound suddenly snapped Drakko out of writing in his journal. He placed the leather bound book down and went to investigate. A giant rat had entered the hallway and, as he looked for such, it scampered into the ballroom.

  It moved fast, yet Drakko was faster. He leapt in front of the rodent and blocked its path. “Stop, I will not hurt you.” The little creature paused and then did not move. “You know I’m not all too fond of your species. I would like you to do me a favor.”

  The rat was charmed by the master’s voice and listened closely. Drakko asked it to wait as he went to retrieve a bowl and vial of dark black liquid. He then added a raw chicken in the bowl, mixing it with the vial’s contents.

  “Gather your friends and lead them to this scrumptious meal,” he demanded of the furry rodent. “Let them indulge in such and help me clean this grand castle.”

  The rat nodded as if to understand his master and soon gathered all the rats together for a most deadly feast. Soon after an entire clump of such filthy pests were dead on the floor.

  “Good job,” called forth the count. “You have pleased me. I shall call you Wescott; that’s a good name. You shall be my eyes and ears around here now.”

  Wescott stopped for a second and then went over to a hole in the wall. He stopped again and peed on the floor.

  Drakko laughed to himself. Oh, well, time to return now to my journal.

  Drakko Del Rothchild Journal entry

  Sorry about that, I am back! As to my search for Adrian and the carnage of such meat every so often I see as I traveled onward.

  I noticed a carcass and knew I was I on the right track. There was no doubting he was a strong creature, and there was no telling if the ripped apart remains of some of these animals might not be so destroyed and they too have become much like he.

  I had to keep a keen awareness on the hunt.

  It was known that on the full moon the creature could not resist its turning. I was not as sure about this one, however. He had been stitched together by a mad scientist. He could be different, but once I did find his lair, I wanted to be certain that the moon was not out. It was preferable that the confrontation be with Adrian himself and not the beast.

  After another day and a half of searching, I finally detected along a sloped ridge of a hill enough evidence to point me towards the lair, but unexpectedly I was caught off guard when a soft female voice from behind called to me. Jezebel had followed in my footsteps; my senses had failed me. Again, I’m old!

  “Be easy on him,” she called to me. “He’s a kind man if not a simpleton.”

  I wondered how she had followed me. I had found his hiding place, but it wasn’t easy. It then hit me; perhaps it slipped my attention in lieu of my lust for the young girl that she, too, was infected with lycanthropy. I looked over at her, wondering.

  The sun had set, and we stood there looking at one another and then back to what I knew was, covered by brush, a hidden lair in the hillside.

  Then the hill and the trees along its ridge erupted with savage cats; these raccoons were rabid and inflicted with such a disease as Adrian was thought to have. They leapt at me with a vengeance.

  They were still half raccoon, but their features had grown wider and they were much stronger, and it did not matter whether day or night; full moon or not, they were savage as they attacked me. They leaped upon my body, five total breathing their foul breath while ripping at my flesh and tearing at my arteries attempting to suck my veins.

  Luckily I could heal almost instantaneously, yet this was no picnic. I ripped the first from my left shoulder, throwing him into the side of the hill with a good thud.

  The one on my right I wrestled off, yet another was snapping into my femoral artery via my lower inner thigh. I dealt out some blows to that one several times in the face until it finally dropped away. I then kicked it, smashing his head and sending him high in the air flopping over to the ground at a distance of about fifteen feet.

  Two more were upon me; one attached to my back, another to my left leg. The one on my left I bent to and grabbed such by the scruff of his neck and flesh, yanking it from me by my very teeth, twisting and turning my head and neck about until I tossed it the ground. This last one on my back was sinking his teeth deeply into my skin. These little bastards were tough.

  I tried to grab it and throw it off, but it would not let go.

  Another recovered and was back up and in a flurry of black, white, brown flesh and fur he leaped at my face. My nose felt a sudden rush of blood from the hard hit and such sent me reeling, yet I still stood my ground. Another came at me as I smashed its head with the sole of my foot, shattering its skull.

  Finally I was able to peel the one from my back away. I had him in front of me, holding him by the throat with both hands, and on close view such showed me that the disease of the werewolf had come upon him. He was rabid with jagged teeth and those much thicker and longer than a normal raccoon would ever have. I was not happy and I head-butted it over and over, bashing it to smithereens.

  That was the end of them and I was glad it was over.

  Perhaps sensing Jezebel was near and from the commotion, a man emerged from a cave before us. He was stitched together; face and limbs and his bare chest was muscular, as were his legs. He only had on a simple pair of cut off blue cotton trousers. His medium length black hair was messy and on his face he gave out an expression of excitement, yet confusion.

  Jezebel called again. “Please be easy, he was a good man.”

  I did not know if a good man could go about killing people as well as affecting others with such a disease. In many ways he was not unlike me. I found myself with a dilemma suddenly. How would I treat myself, Count Rothchild, what others call a blood-sucking leech, an asshole with a hollow heart? Adrian was not that different.

  He now spoke to me; it was a crude and stuttering style.

  “I … I knew you come for me … one day. I … I only ask you to look to Jezebel kindly … she nice person.”

  I had to make a choice; the shape changing raccoons were dead, but their creator stood still before me.

  Doctor Fallenstein’s creation was not happy at the sight before him. His little pets were now all finished off and the woman of his desires behind me; I stood in his way. Who was I fooling, thinking maybe we could work something out. She perhaps had been the woman of his dreams before the dreaded curse of lycanthropy came upon him. He now could not have her no more than I could.

  He growled at me. Adrian was built solidly. I could see clearer sewn stitches once focusing in on him; places where his heart, his face, his brain, and his stomach had been opened up and put back together.

  My mind was made up as he came at me with a fierce attack, not waiting for any moon to be full.

  The creation punched me in the face. I was sent back three steps, nearly toppling over. He was powerful. He then attempted to hit me in the face again, but I slipped his left jab to the right and elbowed him in the head with my own right arm.

  As he staggered some, I came at him with a left-right combination; it was more of a ruse than a true attack and it angered him even more so. He came at me wildly and that was when I sent an overhand right directly into his cheekbone. He took the blow without stagger.

  He turned animalistic at such a hit, dropping down to all fours, hopping around like a bear. He then dove straight at my legs, grabbing me, but I pushed his head down immediately and sprawled my weight back, driving his face to the dirt and grass.

  He was flat on his stomach now, me over him as I rained blows towards the back of his skull with a plan to choke him around the neck as he began to get back to his knees.

  As I attempted to do so, he bucked me off, rolling me over him. He was tough and agile as well.

  He sprang back at me, landing on my face and upper bod
y. The blow threw me to the ground; this thing was as strong as an ox. I might have underestimated him.

  I needed to redistribute his weight from my chest; instead of pushing straight up, I moved my hips outward and shrugged him to my side. I was able to use my feet and I shoved him with both legs, pushing him back far enough that I could scoot back some and stand up.

  To the left of me a broken branch was jutting out from its trunk. Adrian charged me once again, but this time I would trick him. I sidestepped his lunge, throwing him body first into the jagged branch; the limb went through him, passing into his chest and impaling him on such. He moved some, trying to free himself, but it was deep in him, be it the other side of his chest now, and he was stuck. He groaned, thrashing to break the branch, but it was too late. He flopped over to one side, now dead upon the deep impact.

  I turned quickly to Jezebel, wondering if she would attack me as well; perhaps she was hiding the disease herself. I imagined such, but it was not true. She had not transformed to any sort of creature; she simply stood there with a sad look upon her face.

  I explained to her that there was nothing that could be done and that her mother and she would be safe now.

  It was just us now, alone, as night would soon be upon us. The question was, would we travel home, or seek shelter before full nightfall came in. I looked her up and down; this farmer girl was so pretty, so unspoiled. A woman living off the land, out in the wilderness was one I liked, a girl untainted; she excited me. I often have a dirty mind.

  I turned from these thoughts and went and peered into the hidden lair of Adrian. It was nowhere to stay for the evening, quite smelly and full of the carcasses and random refuse from his own transformed body. I decided it best we travel at night with no time to stop, and looked over this child as we went. Be it her mother’s one wish. A promise I had made. I had to keep it; I really had to keep it.