《Abandoning All Hope》


 Episode 1- Farwell

    "Why is this monster still alive!" The booming voice of the village leader caused me to jump nearly out of my skin. I was afraid of the rumors that had been circulating the taverns and stables, around stalls and barns- everywhere. My father tried to ease my tension, continually reminding me that everything was just that, rumor.


    The feeling of dread that twisted my insides up into sickening knots told me otherwise; something was very wrong.


    "We''ve tried to kill him Mi''lord b-"


    "It!" Corrected the village leader, his face changing a new shade of crimson, "That thing killed my daughter!"


    "We don''t know if she''s dead," my father''s voice rose above the din, and my brown eyes shot up to his profile. I knew what he was going to suggest but believe he wouldn''t be so reckless.


    I began to shake my head slowly, praying, no, hoping that I was wrong.


    "Let me go and confirm the status of your child- it is the least our family can do to return your generosity." Hot tears stung the backs of my eyes at the thought of what I knew would happen. Men, who had believed themselves, great hunters, had offered the very same boon, but none had returned.


    My father would not return either if Mr. Quartz agreed.


    "The others have not returned, what makes you think that you will be any different?" For a moment, I breathed a sigh of relief as my father did not respond right away. Instead, he dropped his chin to his chest, his brows knitted and his lips pursed.


    Then he spoke.


    "I have experience with these types of creatures." Everyone assembled began to whisper in hushed tones at this new information- not many alive, besides the Belmonts, had been able to withstand the night creatures.


    "I was there, in Gresit when Dracula''s hoard came. I was shown by the last descendant of the Belmont''s how to kill those bastards. I know, with your permission, that I can return with your daughter."


    All of the air in the room suddenly felt like it had been sucked out. I couldn''t breathe. My chest ached, and the world around me spun in a twisting kaleidoscope of melting colors- all of this had to have been a nightmare.


    "Very well, Vincent, leave the village tomorrow by first light; do not return until you find out the truth about my child."


    I wanted to vomit. This couldn''t be real!


    Bile, thick and syrupy rose in my throat and threatened to choke me. I had to remember to breathe, to force the sick that coated my tongue back down into my stomach. I had to! I couldn''t lose my composure: it was expected of me.


    The remainder of the meeting seemed to fade into background noise. Nothing else mattered; my father was willingly committing suicide for¡­ what? One foolish girl?


    As we left the meeting hall, neither of us spoke. What could honestly be said? Anything I asked would have seemed trivial, but what if this was the last time we talked? I couldn''t leave things like this- I had to hear his voice once more. "Father?" I finally broke the silence, the ringing in my ears becoming unbearable.


    He did not speak.


    Peeking up from beneath long ebony lashes, I spied the side of his face. He was pensive again. "Father?" I called again. This time he turned his gaze towards me. However, the face that looked back at me was that of a stranger. Where my father before had been rugged, fearsome, and untouched by age- all of that was stripped away. In its stead stood the shell of a man.


    The haggard, broken man that looked back, froze me mid-step. He was afraid. He knew he was going to die, and he had accepted this fate without question, without a fight!Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Why?" My voice sounded small, foreign- I didn''t like it. "Why are you doing this?"


    "Not now Dragonfly- I have not the strength or will to explain myself."


    Heat burned in my blood and filled every inch of me until I thought I''d explode. "Then how will you explain this to the twins? To Timothy? Do you expect me to carry this burden alone? To tell them what has happened when you do not return? Tell me!"


    "Please."


    It was the only word that issued from between my father''s cracked lips, even as he shook his head.


    I wanted to be like an errant child; I wanted to throw myself onto the ground, to throw a fit because I didn''t get my way, but I didn''t- I was too old for temper tantrums.


    That''s when I started to cry. I didn''t care who watched- I was losing my father, and there was nothing that I could do.


    I stood frozen on the side of the cobblestone path for a small eternity- grappling with my inner turmoil. My blood was still fiery, but I shivered violently, despite the warm night air and my heavy shawl. My insides twisted and churned like an angry sea, and the desire to wretch was back. I hated these feelings, hated the uncertainty; I just wanted it all to stop.


    Finally, when the ache in my stomach and the thundering of my heart quieted, I returned home. Everything was the same: father sat by the hearth, the twins played on the floor, and Timothy sat beside father''s leg, fidgeting with his knife.


    I said nothing as I came in and removed my wrap- I had to pretend that everything was fine.


    As the night wore on and the others went to sleep, I was left again with my father- the only light, the smoldering embers of the fire.


    "I know you''re angry with me, Dragonfly, but please, understand why I must do this."


    I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, trying to resist my desire to speak, wincing when the taste of copper filled my mouth.


    "The town leader has been good to our family, far better than some. If not for him, we would all be on the street or dead. We are indebted to-"


    "It was her fault!" I finally exploded, unable to take the pressure that had been steadily building up inside of me. "That imbecilic twat walked into her death! She chose to go! No one made her! Why do you have to sacrifice your life for someone who left, despite the behest of her betters? Why?!"


    My father, who had not moved, leaned his head back, casting his gaze towards the ceiling.


    "It isn''t-" I spat, my voice quivering as tears ran down my cheeks, "isn''t fair!" I lifted my hands to my face and sobbed unabated again.


    Father never moved from his spot, perhaps because he didn''t have the strength to comfort me or maybe because he didn''t care? I didn''t know, and at that moment, I didn''t care. Or, I thought I didn''t. Everything hurt- my head throbbed, my chest felt tight, and my limbs felt like they were going to drop off. What was a little more pain?


    When I finally gathered up enough strength to quell my sobbing, I stood alone. I suppose, I sniffled weakly as I trudged over to the hearth to sit beside it, he didn''t care.


    I sat beside the dying light of the hearth for- God, I don''t rightly know. I do know that I thought about a great many things like what the coming winter would be like or whether all of us would die without Father''s care.


    The twins were too young to fend for themselves and Timothy was thirteen winters. They needed him; the twins and Timothy, they all needed him far more than they needed me. What was I good for? Cooking? Cleaning? Mending holes in breeches and skirts? In my nineteen winters, I had learned nothing that would keep all of us alive.


    At that moment, when I contemplated all of this, a thought filled my head. It wasn''t brilliant, and it was dangerous. It filled me with horror and hope, the likes of which I can''t recall I''ve ever felt. I wanted to rebel against the invading idea, but somewhere deep down in my core, I knew I had to obey. It was the only way to ensure that everyone remained safe.


    Quiet as a mouse, I sprang to my feet and began collecting things from the pantry, from drawers and my room. I had swapped my clothes for something a bit warmer- opting to borrow a pair of Timothy''s breeches, undershirt, and a woolen tunic. Nothing I wore was comfortable- the tunic was far tighter around my torso than I would have liked, and the breeches were much too tight around my backside. What I would have given to have my younger brother''s lean, slender build. With a huff, I reminded myself I wasn''t dressing to impress anyone or to even be comfortable, instead, to withstand the colder nights and unforgiving wilds.


    When I finished, now dressed as a boy, my long ebony hair pulled back into a loose braid that started at the nape of my neck and my pinched items in one of father''s leather bags, I stood motionless by the front door. Longingly I looked around- I knew I''d never see this place again, and if I did, things would never be the same.


    I wanted to stay longer, to admire everything that I had taken for granted but forced myself to secure my father''s thick black cloak around my shoulders and tuck my brother''s knife into the waistband of my trousers.


    And just as silently as I had collected all my things, I departed my sleepy village, daring not to look back at all that I knew I would never return to.

 Episode 2- Money Talks

    I already missed my bed. Two days of nothing but walking had already been more than enough for me.


    When I next awoke, I groaned at the new stiffness in my neck and back. I was reminded that I had settled down beneath a tall oak tree for the night. Roots and stones didn''t make a comfortable place to sleep, but I hadn''t had much other choice. I knew it was far too dangerous to sleep out in the open where anyone or anything could come by and slit my throat, so I had opted to traverse into the surrounding wood. I stretched as I recalled the night prior, remembering that I had walked until my feet ached, and I couldn''t keep my eyes open any longer. I would have given anything to have been able to return home, but the mission I was on far outweighed any small comforts I had forsaken. Damn the cold, the ache in my joints, or the constant clattering of my teeth.


    As I slowly erected my spine, my stomach gave a soft growl to remind me that there was more than just the cold or aches in my body to contend with. I was hungry. With a sniffle and as if to quiet my growling insides, I placed my palm flat against my belly. "I have to be mindful," I mumbled to myself, "Not too much or I won''t have enough for the rest of the way." Would I even make it to my journey''s end? Now that was the real question that I, unfortunately, didn''t have the answer to.


    With a huff, I pulled the bag that I had used as a makeshift pillow, to sit between my legs. For a small eternity, I rummaged around until I found a handful of dried goat meat. Silently, I munched on the tough, stringing meat, swallowing it with a grimace- missing the taste of warm porridge and jam. Father would have been awake by now, likely having seen that things were missing. He was likely furious with me- that was fine, I thought as I pulled out a map from the satchel as my tongue fished around in my mouth for bits of meat that had gotten caught between my teeth. At least he was alive.


    When I finally managed to clamber to my feet, I didn''t know exactly which way I was supposed to head. The map that I had pinched marked where Dracula''s castle was rumored to sit, where the ''creature'' was, but I had never been taught to read a map. As the eldest, and a girl, Father had imparted that knowledge onto Timothy- it wasn''t proper for a lady to know such things, thus my ignorance.


    I scoffed as I unfolded the map and tried to find a landmark I knew. This did me little good as I didn''t even know where I was. What I did know for a fact was that if I continued along the main road, as I had done the previous night, I would eventually reach Lindenfeld. If I were lucky, one of the locals would be able to point me in the right direction.


    A soft grumble escaped from between my lips as I forced myself to return the map to the leather bag- it was only causing me to burn valuable daylight. Once it had been replaced and the satchel slung over on my shoulders, I ambled clumsily out of the forest.


    The somewhat familiar dirt path was a welcomed sight. The forest was beautiful during the daylight, but I was already lost enough, the road would keep me on the correct path. I needed to find Dracula''s castle. No, I needed to find Katherine- getting more lost wasn''t going to help, and time was of the essence.


    Eventually, I grew bored. I liked my own company, but I missed being around the people I loved. What I would have given to hear the twins singing some nursery rhyme off-key or to hear Timothy complaining about some of the village boys and their silly games. I even missed father scolding me for not having found a husband yet- reminding me that if I didn''t find someone, I''d become a spinster. My usual argument was that I didn''t have time, and it was true! Who else was going to take care of the family and mind the house?


    I walked for a while, well into the late afternoon before I stopped again to eat. I couldn''t resist the ache in my stomach. Breakfast had only been enough to sate me for a few hours, and I decided that I needed a little more. Surely it wouldn''t hurt, right? I reasoned that even if I ran out of supplies, Lindenfeld was a few days walk, and should I need to resupply, I''d be able to there. I had plenty of money


    I stopped on the side of the road and fished out a small wedge of cheese and a piece of dry bread. It, again, wasn''t much, but it was what I had on hand. Already on this journey, I learned that I did not like traveling like a vagabond. Worst still, I detested the outdoors. Being a merchant or a traveling actor was out of the question.


    With lunch finished and my hunger at bay again, I resumed my journey, making it only perhaps a few miles before I stopped and squinted at something. In the distance, there were, what appeared to be, a group of people. They were too far for me to truly determine what they were up to, but I reasoned it was either one of two things: they were a group of friends out for a stroll, or it was a band of ruffians.


    A hard lump formed in my throat at the thought of the latter, but I had to be brave- the worst that could happen was they would rape and kill me. Perhaps not in that order, but¡­


    Steeling myself with a steadying breath, I marched forward. It would make no difference if the group were ruffians, friends, or the Devil and his brood- they were on the same road that I traversed. I had to walk past them no matter who they were. Perhaps, I thought with a wavering chuckle beneath my breath; I could simply walk by without so much as a sidelong glance?If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    That wasn''t going to be the case; I corrected myself when the figures began to take shape. As I drew nearer, I could see it was three men and a little old woman.


    The first man was a short, lanky fellow with dirty blond hair and missing teeth. The second was imposing. He was heavily muscled and built like an ox, and I wondered if he tried to smile, whether his stony face would crack or not. The last man was unremarkable at most. He was dirty, with shaggy auburn hair and freckles dotting his cheeks. Smack dab in the middle of the three was a grandmotherly old woman with silvery hair piled high on her head, who was- smiling? While I should have found her smile comforting, it did the opposite.


    Did she not understand the severity of her position?


    "Give us yer fackin'' money ol woman!" The blond man''s shouted command caused me to cease my already slow stride.


    "Else, we might just ''ave ta slit ya open like uh fish!" Grumbled the oxen-built man.


    The thought alone made me shiver and consider turning back. Maybe I could wait until the ruffians did their business with the old woman, and I could resume my trek unnoticed?


    "Hoho, would that not be a sight!" The old woman laughed with mirth that didn''t quite fit the situation, "My corpse left out in the sun to rot, guts piled on my chest, for all who travel this road to see?"


    Everyone, save for the grandmotherly woman, was frozen in place- myself included. I could only surmise that we all thought the same thing: was she mad?


    "The money," the unremarkable man snarled through his teeth, the first to break free from his stupor, "now!"


    "Sonny," she began with a slow shake of her head, "I''m not but a poor, old, blind woman out for a walk. Do I appear as if I have any amount of coin you''re looking for?"


    Her statement wasn''t what any of the men had wanted to hear. That was evident by the way their faces twisted into a mask of disapproval.


    I had to do something! If I didn''t, God knew what would transpire! I had to stop them, but how?!


    Gathering my courage, I planted my feet and shouted, "WAIT!"


    As all of their eyes shifted to me, I felt my knees begin to quiver in my trousers, and my palms grow clammy. What the hell was I doing?! I was going to die!


    "Who the fuck are you and why the hell should we?" The freckled man spat, pulling away from the group to walk up to me and poke me hard in the chest. "You gonna stop us?"


    I swallowed hard and tried to find my voice, "Does-does it look like I can?" I returned, confident that they could see I was a nobody.


    My comment caused the oxen man to bellow with a howl of laughter, "Not unless ya wanna die too."


    I choked out a weak laugh, "I''m not-not keen on the i-idea b-but, how about uh-uh t-trade?


    The blond snorted through the gaps of his missing teeth, "Unless ya got coin, we ain''t interested in yer fackin'' trade!"


    "I-I do!" I blurted out with a squeak, "I''ll-I''ll pay yo-you to spare our l-lives- me a-and the old woman. All-all the money I have o-on me."


    This caught their attention¡ªeven the old woman''s. What''s more, she was no longer smiling. Where I had found her smile unsettling, her lack thereof was far worse.


    "Any day, girl!" The snapped command from the freckled man forced me to focus my attention back on him.


    "R-Right! G-Give me-me just a moment."


    I didn''t waste a second more before I sank onto one knee and swung the satchel off of my shoulder to sit between the unremarkable ruffian and me. I frantically began to rummage around until I found the soft velvety bag that contained all of my coin. Withdrawing it, and sealing the satchel again, I jumped back onto my feet and offered the heavy purse.


    "H-here, take it, p-please." I tried to offer with an inviting smile to show my good faith- "I-It''s all y-yours!"


    The shaggy-haired ruffian snatched the bag out of my hand quickly and snorted with a laugh. Greedily he rolled the purse around in his palm. "You''re smart for a woman. Don''t let us catch you on our road again. Understood? We might not be so generous the next time."


    I wanted to snap back and remind the imbecile that the road was free for everyone to use, but I remained silent and nodded instead. Happily, I watched as the other two thugs departed from the old woman''s side, falling in tow behind the auburn-haired man. Content when their figures grew smaller and smaller in the distance.


    "If I had known my white knight come to save the day would be in the form of a young woman, I''d have put on a little rouge." The sound of the old woman''s voice made me spin around quickly. I laughed in response, not entirely sure what to say.


    "That was very brave of you child, far braver than even some hunters. Thank you."


    Again I laughed, "It was my pleasure-"


    "Pleasure? My, a thrill-seeker, are we? And here I guessed you a sweet, innocent village girl lost in the big, wide world."


    "Y-You''re not wrong, ma''am." How did she know?


    The old woman hobbled over to where I stood and took my hand, patting it gently, "Don''t worry, child, I''ve been around a very long time and seen much. It would take quite a bit to fool these old eyes." How had she known the thought that had filled my head? I quickly chalked it up to merely worldly knowledge.


    "Tell me, child, where are you headed on this beautiful day? Home perhaps? Off to save some other damsel in distress from a terrible, bloodthirsty beasty?"


    Lucky guess- apparently, I was as readable as an open book, even for a blind woman. She didn''t need to know the gory details, though.


    I shook my head despite knowing she could not see "Lindenfeld ma''am."


    She nodded once, and her smile broadened, "I see, and might I ask what''s there? Family perhaps? Passing through to resupply, maybe?"


    "Just passing through." Despite not being able to see, whoever this old lady was, she was sharp as a tack.


    Her smile faded just marginally before her wrinkly hand squeezed mine, "Well, if that''s the case, young lady, I have got a mind to walk with you for a stint- so long as you''ll have me. I certainly wouldn''t want to bother you."


    "No, no! Please, I''d welcome the company ma''am-"


    "Ohh, stop with this ''ma''am'' nonsense child- call me Bess."


    I again nodded, the hint of a smile kicking up the corners of my mouth, "Yes ma- er, Bess."

 Episode 3- Of Monsters and Men

    Bess had been the grandmother I had always wanted! She talked about a great many things- stories about when she was a girl, about a strange visitor who had changed two coins into four, and a story about a murderous judge in black. Strangely, I felt at home, or at least, more at ease listening to her.


    "So, the judge, "I began, "did he ever get his comeuppance?" Stealing a glance down at the old woman, quietly enjoying the warmth, Bess'' hand radiated on my forearm.


    "Oh yes, the Black Judge got what he deserved. He died by the hands of a far eviler man who escaped with the help of the Black Judge. The Judge was clever though because he had told the evil man to run right into his trap, the same trap the Black Judge used to snare the village children."


    My body shivered at the thought- I was thankful that it was nothing more than a scary story meant to frighten children.


    "The Black Judge was more creature than man, don''t you think?"


    Her question made me consider the entire story for a moment, "He may have been wicked for murdering all those children, but perhaps the moral of the story is that everyone is redeemable?"


    Bess snickered softly, "And what made him redeemable, Anna? Was it because he killed the evil man? Or was it because he helped the heroes?"


    "What he did was wrong, but he did stop someone much worse. After all, the evil man killed everyone, not just the village children. They both deserved to die, but perhaps God, or, whoever watches over us, will forgive him if he was truly repentant."


    Bess looked up at me, and I felt the weight of her milky-eyed stare rest heavily on my cheek, "Hoho, not a believer of God I take it? I thought all the youth in this day and age believed. Are you faithless child?"


    I began to gnaw at the inside of my cheek, regretting it when my teeth bit down into the same spot I had gnawed the night of the village meeting.


    "I¡­ I''m not certain what I believe," I finally blurted out, feeling my cheeks grow hot. "If there was a God, why would He allow his children to suffer? Why would He allow Dracula''s horde to kill the whole of Wallachia? Why would he allow creatures like demons and witches and vampires to roam the Earth and kill innocent people?"


    Bess was silent for a time as we continued our march. I hoped that she had the answers to the questions I wasn''t brave enough to ask anyone.


    "Do you believe all vampires are wicked?"


    The question caused me to blink wildly. Why did it matter? "If they aren''t evil, why would they not be able to cross water, or to stand beneath the sunlight?"


    "So, by your reasoning, you think that creatures that can stand in the sunlight and that can cross moving water aren''t evil, correct?"


    Her question felt like a trap, like I was walking into a test that I knew I would fail. "Well, yes."


    "Witches can do both of those things, are witches, not evil?"


    "The ones that heal aren''t. Like Lisa Tepes. People called her a witch, but others called her a doctor."


    "Then, perhaps not all vampires are evil, hm?"


    I began to laugh humorlessly to myself- two could play this game. "Name one vampire that has helped man, not hurt him."


    Bess stopped beside me. Standing next to her motionlessly, I looked down at her wrinkled face and empty white eyes as her brows knit together. She was trying to think, to best me at this game she had started. I knew I had won.


    "None come to mind, child-" I opened my mouth to smart off some triumphant reply but immediately snapped it shut when she continued. "But, the lesson I am trying to teach you, sweet Anna, is sometimes we make the monster. Dracula did not kill the people of Targovi?te and Gresit because he simply enjoys death, but because the Bishop stole his love. Lisa Tepes changed a monster into a man, and men changed him back."


    I had wanted to win this verbal joust so much that I had missed the point entirely. It bothered me. It wasn''t the fact that I had lost, but the fact that I had been so intent that I hadn''t seen the sagely wisdom in her words.


    "I''m sorry," I mumbled, placing my free hand over hers.


    "Ohoho, don''t be silly, child. So long as you remember the lesson, you are always forgiven."


    I nodded with a sigh- I wanted to believe her words, but beating myself up was a far better penance.


    A silence, so tangible it almost breathed, filled the spaces between us. I hated the silence; it meant I was free to let my mind wander. Immediately I considered what I would have done if I had been in Lisa''s position. Rumors had circulated that when the Bishop had burned her in the square, she was rumored to be begging someone to forgive ''them'' for not knowing any better. I could only assume that she had been talking to Dracula and that she had meant the whole of Targovi?te.


    At that moment, I felt empathy for a man who the world viewed as a monster. While I could not condone the slaughter he wrought, I understood his pain and his loneliness.


    "Do not weep for the monster Dracula became, child. Weep for the man who felt death was his only solace after the death of his beloved. I''m sure the two are together again." I looked down at Bess, surprised by her words. Again, she had known what I was thinking without so much as a peep from me. How?


    "Bess, how is it you always know what I''m thinking? It''s like you''re privy to my thoughts, and it''s more than a little unsettling."


    The grandmotherly woman chuckled and patted my hand reassuringly, "You remind me a lot of my granddaughter when she was alive. She had the same fearless spirit and gentle compassion for others that you do."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    My cheeks ignited with warmth like a small sun had bloomed in them, "I-I''m not fearless a-and I don''t know if I''m truly that compassionate."


    "Oh, tish tosh! I do not know many young women who would have stopped an old woman from getting robbed by thugs or anyone who might consider what Vlad Dracula Tepes felt in his last days."


    I began to grumble, but a quick smack across my hand silenced me.


    "Do you think they are happy? I mean to say, Dracula and his wife- wherever they are?" I asked after a pause, hoping the change of subject would quell any remnants of Bess'' anger.


    A distant smile seemed to dance across the old woman''s lips, almost as if she knew, "I''m sure they are dear. I''d say that if you were a God-fearing woman, you might ask the Almighty to forgive them both- for their sins and the sins of their son."


    "Wait, son?" Of all the rumors I had ever heard from travelers visiting our village, none of them had ever mentioned Dracula''s child. I should not have been as taken aback as I was. "Lisa and Vlad had a child?!"


    Bess loosed a hearty laugh that shook her frail frame, "Ohoho! Of course, they did deary. If you were alone with a beautiful man for years, would you not sate your appetites of the flesh with your devilishly handsome husband? Of course, I''m sure you know all about what I speak of."


    Instinctively I began to fidget with her implication. It was brazen to speak of sexual desires! Bess was a stark raving lunatic!


    "Don''t tell me your husband has never-"


    "I''m not married!" I yelped out before she could finish, my face burning feverish again. "E-Even if I did," I huffed, suddenly aware that the world around me was much hotter than I would have liked. "I-I would not discuss the goings-on of our bed chambers wi-with anyone!"


    Bess snickered again and tried to console me with another loving pat to the back of my hand- it did absolutely nothing for my discomfort.


    "Can an old woman inquire as to why you''ve not wed? Surely your appearance must not be the reason why. Why then, have you not?"


    I wanted to change the conversation to anything but the topic of marriage, children, and all that hoopla. I had had enough of that at home.


    "I-I don''t have time," I replied curtly, "I''m far too busy taking care of my siblings and the home to consider suitors. Besides-" I straightened my spine and cleared my throat, "All of the village boys are knuckle-dragging heathens who would rather go shoot things with their bows and arrows than sweep me off my feet."


    Another cackle, "So you''re romantic, hm? You''ve had girlish daydreams of a tall, handsome man whisking you off your feet? Whispering soft nothings to you in foreign languages and tucking locks of hair behind your ears? Perhaps of him writing you love sonnets that rival the most brilliant literary wordsmiths?"


    Why did this woman torment me so?


    "I-I s-suppose," I grumbled, "Is that too much for a girl to dream about?" I had had absolutely more than enough of this particular line of questioning to last me a lifetime. "C-Can we, please change the subject, Bess, I fear that if I grow any redder in the face, I''ll begin to glow."


    "Very well deary, as you wish."


    Finally, as silence settled around us like snow, I breathed a sigh of relief as the heat from my skin began to slowly cool. While I hated to discuss such things with people, I much preferred the privacy of my thoughts when it came to matters of the heart. I''ll shamefully admit that not all of my thoughts were pure. Certainly, though, I was not the only young woman to have thought such things. Right?


    When I finally fixated my gaze on something other than my booted feet, I was pleased to see that dusk was beginning to set, and the sky was growing a fiery orange and sanguine hue. If memory served, Lindenfeld was a few days walk from my village- we were almost to our destination.


    "We''re almost there," I chirped excitedly, turning my entire body towards the old woman who took both of my hands into hers lovingly.


    "I know my girl, the first part of your journey is already coming to a close. Before we continue, there is something I must tell you. Anna, my darling, you must listen carefully to my next words and remember them in times of strife. Can you do this?"


    Her words caused my brows to knit in concern- why the sudden gravity in her voice? The worry? Why did her voice sound as if it implied a goodbye?


    Nevertheless, I murmured a soft, "Yes, of course." Wordlessly, I observed her, cherishing the way her thumbs caressed the backs of my hands. She led me away from the road, and I followed obediently. When we came to a halt, we both perched ourselves on a fallen log, which was covered in green moss and dotted with pretty white flowers. We sat quietly for a moment before she continued.


    "Always remember the lesson that compassion makes a man and cruelty makes a monster. Sometimes wars can be won by your words, and a singular act of kindness can sway even the most lost and broken of souls."


    Broken and lost souls? Who in the world could she be implying? Her words were gibberish- no one in my life was lost or broken. My father might have been broken, but he certainly wasn''t lost. Perhaps her warning had been about Katherine- she was momentarily lost to the world, and she very could have been broken by the creature.


    "You''re not listening child." Bess'' shriveled hands released mine and instead took hold of either side of my face, giving my cheeks a soft shake- forcing me now to focus. "What I tell you does not apply to any that you''ve encountered yet. If you desire to return to wherever you''ve come from, heed my words and remember this going forward."


    That same unease from earlier, the strange feeling that Bess knew more then she let on, returned with a vengeance.


    I had to know, even if I was afraid of the truth.


    Gently removing her hands away from my face, I stood and took a step back from the log. Anxiously, I sucked in a slow, calculated breath before I opened my mouth to speak.


    "You''re speaking of the creature in the castle, the one who has Katherine. Aren''t you?" I paused, praying that the next words out of the old woman''s mouth wasn''t the three-letter reply I knew was coming.


    "Yes, Anna, I mean the creature. Compassion will be your greatest ally."


    I turned quickly on my heels and found that all the breath in my lungs had left me.


    Where Bess had been but a moment ago, sat naught but the empty forest and billowing plumes of opaque fog.


    "Bess?" I called out, frantically turning to and fro, hoping to see her somewhere among the trees, her familiar friendly smile comforting me. But no matter how many times I spun did I see her, and it was then that my stomach lurched with terror.


    Bess, whoever, whatever she was, wasn''t real!


    I couldn''t think straight, no matter how hard I willed myself. My thoughts were chaotic and buzzing like a nest of furious hornets. Questions, all coming at once to the forefront of my mind, made my head ache with pressure. For a time, I remained rooted, gasping loudly for air, trying to will my lungs to fill.


    ''Run'' my instincts told me but I couldn''t! All I could do was quiver and gasp like a frightened rabbit looking into the maw of a wolf.


    RUN!


    The thought came louder this time, and when my mind screamed, my body obeyed. I turned on my heels so quickly I was suddenly dizzy. The world for a brief second spun on its head before it cleared, and I was sprinting.


    Wildly I pumped my arms and forced myself to run hard. Faster, my mind wailed, I needed to run faster!


    Soon, my lungs felt as if they were on fire, and I could taste copper, but I did not stop- I was too afraid.


    Like a child, too frightened to open their eyes and look at the monster, I snapped my eyes shut as I sprinted. I was resolved to run until I collapsed or until I felt safe again.


    What loosed from my mouth next was a shrill scream as something caught my foot and sent me sliding across the unforgiving gravel road. I lay there for a good long while, panting raggedly- desperately trying to catch my breath.


    Everything hurt again- my lungs were on fire, my heart thundered in my ears so loud I thought I''d go deaf, and I knew my hands and knees had taken the brunt of my fall.


    I still needed to pick myself up, but I couldn''t- I was frightened.


    I knew I had to see for myself what was in front of me. I had to know if I had found a haven where, Bess- no, whatever had traveled with me, couldn''t reach me. With what little courage I had left, I opened my eyes and what I saw was naught but silence and ash.

 Episode 4- Ghosts

    Where I had hoped to see a bustling village, teeming with laughter and torchlight, children running in the streets, I saw nothing but the skeletal remains of buildings and people.


    "What in God''s name-" I whimpered, climbing to my knees, staring in horror at the burnt rubble, "-where is Lindenfeld?!"


    It was gone. All of it! Everything! Nothing remained.


    Quietly, I began to cry. Gradually it grew louder until I wailed.


    I cried for so many different reasons: I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to return home to my warm bed, where I knew hot food would always be available. I cried because I was frightened- I was terrified as the realization settled in that I did not have enough food to survive the return trip home, and the one place I had hoped to resupply was just gone. I lamented for all the lives lost in Lindenfeld, only guessing that some great catastrophe had befallen all of its people. I sobbed because the only companion I had encountered thus far had been my imagination playing wicked tricks on me or something I could not rightfully explain.


    I cried for a great many reasons, but I needed this cathartic moment- if to at least clear my head and help me sleep. No one alive or dead was going to cease my wailing for the time being.


    By the time I had finally wiped the tattered sleeve of my undershirt across my face, leaving behind a streak of dirt and soot, I looked around the desolate village in the dying light of dusk.


    I had to set up camp- while I knew I''d go hungry tonight, at least I would be able to take shelter from the majority of the cold. Casting my eyes skyward, I sniffled softly as the brilliant sky had turned gray and ominous. Wonderful, I thought as I collected my satchel and finally hoisted myself again onto my feet, it was going to rain.


    "It could always snow," I murmured to no one in particular, another humorless smile twisting my lips into a lopsided grin.


    It lasted but a moment more before it disappeared, and I marched through the devastated village, looking for any homes that I could squat in. Unfortunately, the majority of them were little more than the charred foundation. For a brief moment, my eyes flicked up towards the priory that sat relatively untouched. However, just staring at it, the tall white stoned walls caused a crawling sensation to wriggle beneath my skin. I''d take my chances out in the cold and wet.


    After several minutes of searching, I found a safe haven. It wasn''t much, but it was enough- half of the building stood untouched, and although the windows had been shattered, I would at least be dry.


    Night had fallen, and with it, the clouds opened up and wept as I had, soaking the blackened Earth. I sat curled up in one of the corners; knees tucked up beneath my chin, my father''s thick cloak wrapped tightly around my frame. I watched from my little corner inky black water drip from the room and pool on the filthy, lifting wood floors. Everything was black.


    I listened to the steady tapping of the rain, fully aware of the fatigue that weighed down my eyelids. Sleep was better than sitting in the dark, alone like some sort of- I did not know, terrible beast in a cave?


    With a sigh, I slid my back down the wall until I lay on my side, curled up in the fetal position, trying to ensure all my extremities were covered. Letting my eyelids flutter shut, I absently began to imagine my mother''s warm hands stroking my long ebony hair as she hummed to me a lullaby. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I could swear I could smell her scented oils¡ªStrawberry and vanilla, with a hint of cinnamon. Fresh, warm tears ran down my cheeks and cooled immediately- I didn''t mind crying myself to sleep; it was the one thing I knew at least, I could control.


    I wasn''t surprised when sleep whisked me away to an empty dreamscape. I was comforted by the void. Dreamless sleep was better than nightmares.


    "Remember-" a sudden and familiar disembodied female voice from somewhere in the nothing called out, causing me to search for its source. "Remember the lesson that compassion makes a man and cruelty makes a monster."


    It was Bess! Immediately my heart jumped into my throat, recalling how she had vanished as if she''d never existed only a few hours ago. While every inch of my skin prickled, I wasn''t afraid- this was my dream! I was in control!


    "You''re not real!" I screamed back into the all-consuming blackness, "you''re just a phantasm of my dreams!"


    Silence filled the emptiness until the voice replied again. "You''re not listening, child."


    A low growl erupted from my mouth. Bess wasn''t listening! "You''re not real! Y-You''re just a figment of my imagination!" I repeated to dispel the illusion in my mind, to try and wake myself. However, despite my best efforts, I felt trapped, like I was submerged in molasses. I struggled until I was gasping, feeling as if I was allowing myself to be pulled deeper into its depths.


    "Compassion will be your greatest ally."


    "How can I be compassionate with a monster that would sooner eat me alive than listen to a word I have to say?! Bess, tell me!" Momentarily the voice did not respond. However, in its stead was a loud clattering, that grew in volume until I had to protect my ears.


    I awoke bolt upright and gasped, my eyes wild with fright as I looked around my familiar settings. I was still in Lindenfeld, or what remained of it, in my hovel. I breathed a sigh of relief as I tried to shake off the remnants of my dreams. I was succeeding and jumped again when the same deafening clatter from my dreams filled my ears.


    Frantically I began to search for the source of the noise. Much to my horror, I was unable to detect where the sound had resonated from, deciding to give up as nothing jumped out from the shadows. Or, so I silently hoped. While, sure, nothing jumped out of the gathering darkness, I watched frozen as shadows and inky blotches skirting just out of my field of vision like demons sent from the pit to torment me.


    All night this cycle continued- I would fall asleep only to be whisked back into the sticky black tar of my dream where I''d begin sinking into its warm embrace. I''d foolishly think I was alone when time seemed to ebb out of existence only to be startled by Bess''s voice rattling through my skull like an echo. I grew furious with the repeated snippets of our conversation, and I''d shout at her endlessly, repeating more for my benefit, that she wasn''t real. When I thought I''d lose my voice if I continued yelling, something in the outside world would startle me awake. I hated the dream but being awake was far worse. Every time my eyes would snap open, new shadows would twist and creep around me, causing me to wonder if I was ever truly alone in this ghost town.


    When the first light of dawn peeked over the snow-capped mountain to the west, I found myself reluctant to rouse. I was still exhausted, and unsurprisingly, the night hadn''t offered me much in the way of restful sleep. As I considered laying there, warm beneath my cloak, my stomach reminded me that I hadn''t eaten for a day. Damn, I thought as I forced myself to erect my spine with a groan- it was time to get up for the day. After a handful of stubborn pops from achy joints and I collected my satchel, I was outside in what remained of the village.


    Lindenfeld was still a desolate graveyard. Seeing it in the soft light of dawn, the streets little more than black mud pits and bodies scattered hither-tither produced in me a feeling of utter isolation. The day before had stirred in me my desire to be among others, even if our interactions were brief- I missed the living and the hustle of a village.


    I shook my head in an effort to resist the crushing miasma that permeated every surface and set out on my first mission- find food. I had a vague idea of what berries and roots I could consume without death, but I still had trouble with mushrooms. The forest was as good as any place to start looking, I reasoned.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Perhaps, I thought pulling my cloak tighter, trying feebly to trap the last remnants of warmth that hadn''t been swallowed whole by the icy morning, I could find a weapon. Reflexively one of my hands sank to the waistband of my trousers to finger my brother''s knife. I had anticipated feeling only the thick wool of my gray tunic but breathed a sigh of relief when my fingers brushed the hilt. Good, at least I hadn''t lost it.


    Sadly it wouldn''t do me any good catching breakfast. If I had a bow, then maybe? Slowly, I turned my head from right to left and back again in a futile cursory search for the object of my desire; I''d need to search a little more thoroughly.


    My stomach gave another furious snarl, a second reminder that it was empty. "Not yet," I snapped, "I''ve got to find-" I trailed off, returning to the entrance of the village, intent on searching every square inch of the surrounding area for anything I could use as a weapon.


    As I searched, I began to wonder if I had the strength to kill another living creature. When I had been home, I had never been out with Father and Timothy when they had gone hunting, and if a rooster had needed to be killed for supper, Timothy had always been more than eager to offer his services. Life was precious, and the idea of stealing something else''s life to further my own made me nauseous. I swallowed hard as I made my decision- if I didn''t kill something and eat it, then I certainly would perish before my journey''s end.


    As the morning wore on, I found what had likely been a lance or perhaps a spear? I had absolutely no idea. What I did know was that while I didn''t have the materials or know-how to repair the weapon, the broadhead spear tip might come in handy. Wiping off the filth with my leg of my breeches, I slipped the blade into my satchel and continued on my way.


    Just as I had been about to forego my search further did something in the distance catch my eye. Squinting, I glared in vain at the thing, trying to deduce what it was I was seeing. It could have been a bow, but it very well could have been a table leg, a charred piece of tree, or even part of a house too. At this point, I would have been happy with a sharp stick!


    Carefully I made my way through the sticky mud, nearly slipping a handful of times before I reached my prize. It was a bow! It wasn''t the most beautiful bow I''d ever seen and in rough shape, but it was still something! Giving it a quick test to ensure it was useable, I squared my stance and drew back the bowstring until it rested against my cheek pleased when the riser only groaned in response.


    Releasing the tension of the taut string, warmth spread throughout my body that I hadn''t felt since being home. It washed over me in a lazy wave that started at the top of my head and slowly trickled down the rest of my body. The feeling eventually began gently tugging at the corners of my mouth, coaxing me to smile. I did, and a small laugh followed. I had needed this small pick-me-up.


    I allowed myself to be consumed with this temporary joy for a moment longer before I slung the bow over my back and began the search for arrows- a bow was great, but it wouldn''t do me much good if I didn''t have anything to fire. I reasoned that eventually, I''d have to make my own, but that was something to worry about later.


    My search continued for a bit longer until I resigned to myself that the three arrows I had managed to collect throughout the chared remained of Lindenfeld, were all that I''d be lucky enough to find. With a huff, I looked back up towards the priory again, and the slimy wiggling inside me returned. Curiosity had begun to gnaw in the back of my skull despite my apprehension. I wanted to see what was there, to know why it gave me the collywobbles. Maybe there were more weapons inside.


    Besides, I thought with a shrug, what was the harm of poking around? No one else was here, and if I got too scared, I could always leave.


    Just as carefully as I had throughout the majority of the village, I moved towards the priory fraught with anxious curiosity. As I walked, I began to wonder what had happened here- it looked as if a dragon had come ripping through Lindenfeld, but dragons didn''t exist, did they? So, what had caused the destruction?


    I allowed the thought to pass through my mind and soon offered it to the ether, stopping to quirk a brow at another indistinguishable object ahead of me. It looked like a person sprawled out on their back. It could have been a rock and the cause of the fires that decimated Lindenfeld, but then again, it could have been anything. As I drew closer, I confirmed, with horror, that it was another corpse.


    Silently I stood over the body, or what was left of it, my face scrunched up in disgust. I chided myself for my disgust but I argued that this particular cadaver was more human-esk. Whoever the person had been, they hadn''t died by the fires - they weren''t like the skeletal remains that littered the entirety of the town. They also looked important. While the majority of their black robes were tattered, dirty, and sunbaked, I could almost imagine what the clothes had looked like before. Definitely someone of import.


    Maybe the person had been the mayor, I thought as I sank onto my haunches to get a better look at his receding features. There wasn''t much for facial features and what remained was more skull than a face. After a moment more of appraisal, I moved on- I needed to leave Lindenfeld before noon if I had any chance of finding the castle before the first snow. This thought immediately made me fidget. Coupled with my lack of food and if I''d survive the creature in Dracula''s castle, I''d be lucky to return home.


    I had agreed to this, though when I had left in Father''s stead.


    I had begun my trek back up the hill to the priory when my stomach growled again, this time causing me to groan. I was far hungrier than I had remembered ever being. I needed to find something to eat, and while I desired to see what was inside the ominous building, finding something to eat was far more critical.


    With a grumble and reluctance in my step, I turned away and headed into the surrounding woods.


    Much like how I had combed through the village, so too did I search through the wilds. Much to my distaste, the results had been unsurprisingly similar. Food, it appeared, was much harder to find, especially on an empty stomach. Thankfully though, I had been lucky enough to find a thicket of blackberries that had yielded but a small handful. I cared little for the small scratches and pinpricks I received in the process, as I was simply overjoyed to be eating something.


    I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and continued on my way, hoping to find something, anything else that would sate the rumble of my stomach. I looked up again at the sky, huffing as I was greeted with nothing but heavy gray rainclouds. Silently, I prayed that the rain wouldn''t come yet. When I flicked my vision away, I stopped mid-stride.


    "Is that-?!" I yelped, excitement bubbling up in my chest at the sight of what looked like an apple tree. I almost wanted to break out into a sprint again, elated that there may have still been a few good apples left on the branches but remained rooted when an acrid, rotting scent assaulted my nose.


    I immediately wanted to gag- it was so pungent! Lifting my hands to my face, I covered my nose and mouth in an effort to block out even a fraction of the stench. I twisted my head left and right, trying to locate the source of the smell despite the feeling in my guts telling me it was coming from a pit that sat just feet in front of the apple tree.


    Instantly my mind conjured the story of the Black Judge- recalling how he had used something similar to murder the children of his village.


    Cautiously I walked forward until I could see some of the pit''s bottom. Leaves, fallen twigs, apples, and small bones littered the pit floor, but so did tall sharpened spikes- again my mind remembering Bess'' story. A weighted sense of unease coiled inside me the closer I got. When the entirety of the pit''s bottom came into view, I shrieked but quickly clamped my hands over my mouth for fear that something in the woods might hear me.


    There, impaled, was the body of a man- the source of the stink. Unlike the body that I had found in Lindenfeld, this body was still fleshy. Most of the face had rotted or been eaten away by smaller creatures and insects. I felt my stomach lurch as I sucked in a breath through my teeth, my stomach preparing to evacuate what little was in it. Clenching my teeth as hard as I could and swallowing roughly, I forced myself to regain my composure. This course of action was much easier said than done as I watched a long centipede crawl out from the man''s empty eye socket and disappeared among the small human bones.


    Despite my best efforts, I turned and hunched over to dry heave. I stood there, tightly hugging my arms around my stomach, and drooling for a moment as I tried to catch my breath. As I attempted to collect myself and I wiped my mouth again with the back of my shirtsleeve, the story of the Black Judge filled my head, and my eyes widened as I looked towards where I had come.


    The body I had found in the village, the pit, the small bones: the story of the Black Judge hadn''t been a story at all, it had all been real!


    The same potent terror that had gripped me the day before when my traveling companion disappeared into the mist quickly retook hold. I wanted to run again, but I willed myself to remain. It took every ounce of strength to resist the ache in my muscles to flee, but I managed somehow.


    When I stood up tall again, I didn''t chance another look into the pit- I knew what was there, and I didn''t need to see any of it again as the memory was more than enough. I fixated my gaze on the apple tree and moved around it quickly collecting a few apples that looked relatively unscathed before I slipped them into my satchel.


    As I kneeled on the ground securing the bag, a soft rustling caused me to jerk my head in the direction of the sound. My heart had already been pounding for nearly losing my breakfast, but now it vibrated in my throat, almost choking me. Clumsily, my hands reached for the knife and with a quivering hand, I withdrew and held it at arm''s length, prepared to fight for my life.

 Episode 5- Kindred

    Time seemed to stand still as I waited and watched for whatever new horror was preparing to tear into me. My heart throbbed so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest- surely, the beast could hear the panicked staccato. Calm yourself, I thought as my body had begun to practically vibrate with terror. I could do this, even if it meant I died fighting.


    The leaves of the underbrush rustled again, and I clenched my fist tighter around the hilt of my knife, preparing for something with a great maw of razor-sharp teeth and six-inch claws.


    Out of the brush hopped a little gray rabbit, and I felt myself relax with a slow shake of my head. I''d been frightened by a bunny. "Wow, Anna," I snorted and lowered my guard, looking towards the fuzzy rodent with a roll of my eyes, "that''s some bloodthirsty monster. A real man-killer." My stomach growled in response, almost as if it were mocking my utter failure.


    My eyes snapped open as realization next dawned on me- I could eat the rabbit, it was food, and it was practically offering itself on a silver platter.


    As carefully as I could muster, I tucked the knife back into the waistband of my trousers and reached slowly for the bow I had set down beside my satchel. If I made too much noise, my breakfast would get away. I wasn''t going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers! I was prepared to do just about anything to ensure I didn''t go another day without something to eat. The moment that my fingers grazed the smooth, curved body of the bow, I dragged the weapon into my palm. Cautiously, I lifted it and one of the arrows I had found slowly, my heart having returned to the frantic thumping that drowned out the rest of the world.


    I noticed my palms had begun to sweat even as I nocked an arrow and drew back on the bowstring. I was so close! I could practically taste the roasted rabbit meat. Sluggishly I raised my arms and squared my shoulders- this was it! However, halfway through my draw, the charred arrow creaked and then snapped, causing me to release the taut bowstring with a painful slap across my forearm.


    I hissed through my teeth as the underside of my arm stung. I watched, crestfallen when the rabbit took off further into the forest.


    "Damn it!" I hollered, throwing the splintered remnants of my arrow to the wayside, my mind primarily fixated on food. With an aggravated snarl, I snatched up my effects and slung them quickly over my shoulder- I wasn''t going to be so easily thwarted, I still had two more shots!


    Like a woman possessed, I sprinted after the rabbit as fast as my feet could take me, eyes frantically searching the dense forest for my catch, breath coming out in ragged gasps already. I didn''t care how far I ran or where I ended up. I''d find my way back somehow, even if it meant following the wake of my destruction! I needed breakfast, and it was getting away the more time I wasted!


    When next I had stopped to search for my prey, I practically yelped with excitement when I caught a glimpse of gray fur diving for another thicket of blackberries. I stealthily snuck closer to get a better shot.


    I nocked another arrow and tried to loose it, but like my first shot, the brittle shaft snapped. Another punishing slap from the bowstring as it smacked my tender forearm. I immediately drew my arm to my chest, feeling the raised welt already beginning to form- a bruise was sure to follow.


    "God damn it!" I shrieked, caring little if the denizens of the forest heard my agonized cry. My arm ached, my stomach growled, and I was spent.


    I was a glutton, though- I couldn''t simply give up.


    I didn''t linger long and instead resumed my chase, arrow already preemptively nocked with my last shot.


    As I crashed through the forest, low hanging branches sweeping across my upper body and face, the thick underbrush threatened to trip me, but I forged onward.


    I was smarter, stronger, and while I wasn''t faster, I had just as much drive to survive as it did.


    By the time I had found the rabbit again, I was gasping for air- damn, I was tired. Just a bit longer, I promised myself, eyes flicking down to my last remaining arrow.


    In my mind, this was life and death. I was still a small distance away, but if I took my time and slowed my breathing, I could hit it- I knew I could.


    Setting my pack down so I could better position myself, I squared my feet to take aim, praying that the shaft would not snap in twain, and I''d be smarted again.


    I almost breathed a sigh of relief when I was able to fully draw the taut string back to my cheek and look down the shaft at my prey. Silently, I willed my heart to steady as I puckered my lips and breathed out.


    God, let me hit my mark!


    I loosed the arrow and immediately sucked in a deep breath and held it as I watched in silent anticipation. When the rabbit took off again, I almost wanted to cry.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    How had I missed?! I had been so sure! As I lowered my bow and I shook my head in defeat, wondering where I had gone wrong. My form had been impeccable, and I had followed the tip of the arrow to my kill- maybe I had readjusted the moment I loosed the shot? Disappointed and my pride wounded far more than my throbbing forearm, I collected my things and started to head back when a shrill scream made me jump.


    While I knew I was no expert hunter, I knew that the noise that had just filled my ears had been the death throes of my prey- maybe I''d hit it, but only after it had run away did it realize it was injured? I didn''t care to consider any other alternative as I ran towards where the shriek had come. At least, I hadn''t until I stopped just feet from a great white wolf, the rabbit still caught in it''s snarling maw.


    My breath immediately caught in my chest, and it was this sound that had the beast turning on its haunches, yellow eyes transfixed on me.


    I had one of two options- fight or run. Neither seemed appealing, but the clock had already begun to tick, and if I didn''t make a choice, it would be made for me.


    I knew the decision had already been made, long before the thought had even appeared in my head.


    The wolf had already decided.


    I had had just about enough time to withdraw my knife when the full weight of the lupine collided into me, and we toppled head over teakettle. Sharp, deadly teeth snapped inches from my face even before we hit the ground. Instinctively my hands caught the wolf by the throat to stave off the vicious attack. Unfortunately, the knife had been launched from my hand, and I was without protection.


    I was about to die!


    Painfully, I gritted my teeth as I struggled to forestall my end. The wolf''s hot spittle sailed throw the air and drooled onto my cheek the closer its gnashing teeth drew as my arms began to buckle.


    Fuck, fuck, fuck!


    With a groan, I planted one of my heels into the ground and managed to wiggle the other just enough to press the ball of my right foot into the wolf''s chest. As I did, the things sharp claws raked down the side of my neck and across my chest, making me cry out.


    With a furious bellow, I willed the remnants of my depleting strength into my foot and forced my heel up as hard as I could muster into the wolf''s breastbone.


    Much to my surprise, the wolf tumbled off of me, giving me just enough time to arm myself. I didn''t have time to look for my knife, so I grabbed the closest thing I could- a rock two times bigger than my balled fist.


    The wolf was on me again in seconds, but this time, while I held its gnashing jaws, I swung my weaponed hand as hard as I could into the side of the animal''s head. It was enough to cause the wolf to leap off me and step back as I scrambled up onto my knees, preparing to strike again.


    This time I lunged forward on the offensive but stopped my advance when a soft whimper halted my attack. I flicked my eyes away from my aggressor for a split second to see several pairs of bright azure eyes peeking out from beneath a large thicket.


    "Puppies," I sighed and lowered my arm, gasping for breath, "you were protecting your puppies." The wolf still snarled at me, her hackles raised, and powerful legs poised to pounce, but she did not move forward. She merely kept herself between her litter and me.


    I couldn''t kill her, not now.


    With a huff and a slow shake of my head, I backed away as unhurriedly as I could, tossing the rock to the wayside as a gesture of goodwill. I wasn''t sure if the animal understood, but it was worth a shot. I watched wide-eyed as she decided I was no longer a threat, taking her puppies and the rabbit with her.


    I stood motionless, scanning my surrounding area to see if our skirmish had caused anything within earshot to investigate. When I didn''t hear or see anything, I finally turned away and trudged back to my satchel, proverbially licking my wounds.


    I did not stop to fully appraise my injuries until I had clumsily ambled my way back into Lindenfeld. The majority of my injuries were topical- my hands and knees were still raw from my first tumble running from Bess. I had small scratches and scrapes across my face and hands from running after the rabbit and when I had picked blackberries. The forearm that had taken the brunt of the bowstring snaps had already begun to turn a deep crimson and indigo where a bruise was forming. Last and perhaps the worst of my injures were the gashes across my neck and chest.


    The cuts had been deep enough to draw blood that had trickled down onto the collar of my undershirt, but the bleeding had already stopped- thankfully, the scratch wasn''t life-threatening.


    I had to clean it if I wanted to ensure that infection didn''t spread, and it would be as good a time as any to fill my flask.


    I set out again in the direction of the apple tree, knowing right where it would be, but instead of heading there first, I stopped beside a small creek that babbled with clear churning water. I practically flopped onto my backside and reached for my brother''s knife, remembering only now when my fingers brushed across my belly, that I had lost it during my tiff with the wolf.


    Damn.


    Timothy would be furious with me, I thought as I turned to my satchel and began rummaging through it, withdrawing the broadhead spear tip I''d taken. I would have to make it up to him somehow.


    I sighed as I lifted the gray tunic over my head and set it across my lap. I shivered almost instantly as the chilly afternoon air caressed me through my thin undershirt. I frowned as I tore through the bottom front half of the shirt- Father would be so cross with me. I''d have to beg his forgiveness for years for all I''d done. Once I finished, I dipped the piece of torn cloth into the frigid water and began to dab at the cuts gently.


    "Ah! Fuck!" I hissed through my teeth, trying to overcome the stinging pain with each soft wipe and careful press.


    I finished quickly, all too happy to shimmy into my tunic and wrap my cloak tightly around my body to try and reclaim some of my lost warmth. I knew that the more time I spent in Lindenfeld, the longer it would take me to find Castle Dracula, but I needed to keep a close inventory of my things. If I didn''t, I''d never make it.


    Greedily I drained the rest of the water from my flask and submerged it completely, immediately wishing I owned a pair of gloves- my fingers ached as I waited for the canteen to fill.


    That task done, I painfully hoisted myself up onto my feet and made my way to the apple tree where I collected as many as I could reasonably carry. I took a moment to eat two before I sighed- I needed to move on.


    For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I consulted my map. This time pleased to know exactly where I was and where I was headed.

 Episode 6- White, Red and Gold

    The past eight days had been a series of trials and errors. Trials that, much to my surprise, I had managed to come out of relatively unscathed.


    The first had been trying to make makeshift arrows out of wood. I had quickly learned greenwood wasn''t sturdy enough, and dry wood was far too brittle. Instead, the best wood was that right underneath the bark. Save for a handful of cuts I suffered at the hands of my clumsiness; I had been successful.


    Next had been foraging for food.


    It hadn''t been even remotely easy, hell, it had been downright impossible. The majority of my diet now consisted of edible roots, fish, and rabbits as flowering plants had begun to grow scarcer with every passing day.


    Within this same vein, I had recalled that I was out of coin as I had given the whole of my funds to ruffians to save Bess and myself from an untimely demise. I had very little I could spare, but I had been intelligent enough to remember that father had once told Timothy that while rabbits were small, the rodents fetched a higher price if they were whole. I had collected several within the first few days, amassing a meager fortune- at least enough to buy a handful of supplies


    The last most significant learning curve had been tending to my wounds. Thankfully the cuts I had received from my fight with the wolf hadn''t gotten infected, but then I had been mindful of cleaning it regularly. I''d been brilliant enough to keep the scrap of my undershirt as my washcloth. Countless nights as I washed the cuts had I''d wanted nothing more than a salve to take away the ache and to speed up the healing process. I knew, however, that medicines like that that cost more than I could ever hope to come by.


    Reading a map and deciphering which direction I was heading had gotten more manageable as I learned how to determine direction. I''d gotten lost more times than I could count on my fingers, but I had learned quickly via the stars and the sun or moon, about where I was.


    I was now much closer to Dracula''s castle, and the last vestibule of human civilization had been the small village of Hunedoara.


    As I walked through the city gates, I had decided first and foremost to find the smithy- I desperately needed a new knife, and the spearhead I had taken from Lindenfeld was beginning to dull. If I intended to make the return journey, suffice to say I survived my encounter with the mysterious creature, I needed something sharper to make arrows and gut fish.


    It hadn''t taken much effort to locate the blacksmith''s shop; I had only needed to follow the metallic clang of his hammer.


    "Are you open?" I called out as I stopped just at the entrance, folding my arms tightly under my breasts in an attempt to reheat my frozen fingers.


    A tall, grizzled man who looked more like a bear save for the lack of hair atop his head, straightened before marching over to me, still donning his heavy smith''s apron- the smell of smoke and sweat wafting off of him like a foul perfume.


    "Can I du ya for?" His accent was thick, and it took me longer than I''d have ever admitted understanding what he had said. Somehow I''d managed, and for a moment, I wondered if he was a Celt.


    "I require a new knife and you to sharpen this," quickly I swung my satchel off my shoulder and produced the broadhead spear.


    The smithy took the blade from me and appraised it thoughtfully, his massive paw reaching up to stroke his fiery red beard, "Can sharpen yer blade. Will cost ya ''bout five Danarius."


    "And the knife?" I pressed, curious why he''d avoided the topic.


    My answer came in the form of a deep roar of laughter. Immediately my brows knit, and I knew what he was going to say before he opened his fucking mouth.


    "Oh, lassie, why do ya be needin'' a knife? Sweet bonnie lass like ya dinnae need a knife. Donnae want ya ta cut your pretty ''ands now, do we?"


    "How much?" I snapped, my voice was little more than a bark as my patients had begun to run thin.


    "Too much fer ya," the smithy laughed again, clapping his hand on my shoulder as he had another fit of riotous laughter at my expense.


    I had had enough- if the idiot wasn''t going to sell me a knife, I''d make do with the spearhead as I had been. Fuck him. With a huff, I quickly snatched the dulling blade from his hand and turned to leave.


    This got his attention.


    "Where ya goin'' lass?"


    "To spend my money elsewhere!" I shouted, "You don''t seem like you''re open for business, so I''ll find somewhere else to go waste my bloody coin."


    From behind me, I heard him grumble something under his breath quickly before he responded, "Haud yer wheesht! Twenty fer a new knife. Gran'' total o'' twenty-five."


    It was steep, but I needed the knife more than I needed anything else, "Fine, deal." I didn''t want to part with the majority of my funds, especially if it meant paying this blighter, but I had to do all I could to survive.


    Thankfully, I was out of his hair reasonably quick, and I moved onto my next location- the apothecary. On my way to Dracula''s castle, I had collected a number of herbs, both edible and not, that I had no use for- save for the coin it would make me.


    Finding the shop had proved a little more challenging, but when I had managed to locate it and stepped into the warm store, I sighed contently. I could have stood there in the aromatic warmth for eternity and be content.


    "Welcome," a croaking voice commented from behind a counter, causing me to turn and nod my head politely at the little man who''d spoken.


    "Good morrow," I replied in kind, coming to stand before, who I assumed, was the storekeeper.


    Unlike the smithy, this man looked the part of a scholar with his wiry frame, round glasses pushed high up on his beaky nose and mess of wild graying hair. "How may I be of service?" He asked, a note of boredom lingering in his voice as I felt his eyes appraise my filthy attire.


    Much like how I had with the smithy, I slung my satchel over my shoulder so I could untie several bushels of dried herbs from my pack. Gingerly, I placed them on the counter before me and looked up into the ill-tempered man''s aged face. "How much can I get for these?"


    A thick black eyebrow quirked as his eyes shifted to the items I''d placed on his counter. He hummed once and poked at the contents with a bony finger before sighing exasperatedly, "Ten Danarius for the two bushels of Belladona, six for the two Rosemary and four for the lavender." I looked down at the small bundles and tried to calculate the total price.


    Twenty Danarius total, "Deal. What do you have for wounds?"


    The older man quirked that same caterpillar-like brow at me and leaned forward, eyes immediately shifting to the garish red gashes across my neck and chest. I wanted to pull the collar of my cloak tighter around my throat as he scrutinized my wounds. "Can sell you a little thyme and give you back the lavender to make an antiseptic. For pain, you can buy a small bag of crushed yarrow- steep it in a mug of hot water and drink it down."


    I thoughtfully began to gnaw at my bottom lip, forgetting my embarrassment for the time, wondering how much it would all cost me, "I don''t have much coin." I reminded him, hoping that whatever I had left in my satchel, plus what he''d given me, was enough. The older man waved his wrinkling hand, dismissively, "We''ll call it even for all the coin I gave ya."A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Thank you," I mumbled under my breath, watching him turn away from me to collect a small brown pouch before he slid it and my other items across his counter. I quickly gathered them and put them into my satchel- if I had any luck, I''d be able to tend to my wounds before I entered Dracula''s castle in search of Katherine.


    With my transaction done, I readjusted the satchel on my back and left, this time heading for the town square, where I knew I''d be able to find a few things for one last meal.


    As I walked, passing by people and little shops, I allowed myself a moment to stop before a shop window and longingly stare after a pair of fur-lined mitten. They were a deep ebony with golden embroidery adorning the backs in the shape of roses- I had always loved roses.


    I didn''t torment myself much longer, instead, heading into a nearby bakery to inquire if they had any old bread that I might be able to secure for cheap. The baker, a portly woman with a red button nose and a mess of golden hair braided neatly down her back, offered a loaf to me for a Danarius. I thanked her emphatically, although as I left, I wondered if she had done so because she assumed me a vagabond or she thought poorly of my filthy, dirty appearance.


    It didn''t matter, I reasoned, my journey''s end was in sight, and I would be finding out the truth of Katherine''s state of being soon enough. If I was lucky, I''d learn of her condition before sundown.


    With the few coins I had left, I purchased as thick of a wedge of cheese as I could before setting off north for where the castle was rumored to sit and marked on my map.


    I''ll ashamedly admit that I wanted to turn back. I could stay in Hunedoara for a time, find an honest wage, and forget this whole mess, but I was already so close. If I stopped now, my journey would have been for naught, and others would come in my stead. I couldn''t allow myself to be so easily deterred or anyone else to die- especially for my sake. I refused to be as selfish as Katherine.


    I did not stop my trek until I reached a river that offered me fresh water. I was mindful not to fill my stomach, remembering the last time I had done so and the terrible stomach pains I had felt. I needed to be prepared for anything.


    Carefully I perched myself on the bank and dipped one of my hands into the crystal clear water, bringing up a handful of the freezing liquid to my lips. Effortlessly, it floated over my tongue like a cloud, and I sighed.


    As I brought another handful up to my mouth, I was halted when a white snowflake sailed through the air and landed on the tip of my nose. I shivered and then cast my eyes heavenward, watching a million more white flakes float lazily down to the earth.


    I had continued to watch the snow fall from the sky for a bit, smiling when stray flakes clung to my long lashes. While the world around me blanketed in stark white, I knew that this would make my return journey much longer and much harder- I would need to scrape together enough coin to afford more winter-appropriate clothing if I didn''t want to die from exposure.


    As I allowed myself a moment of peace, I watched as a black cloud of crows noisily flew overhead in the direction I had been headed. The world had been quiet for a time, but as I listened intently, the furious cawing wasn''t far off. If there had been one thing I''d learned about those noisy avians was that often where they landed for a time, rotting flesh was nearby.


    Wiping my numb hand across the front of my tunic and adjusting my satchel again for the millionth time to sit more squarely across my back, I marched forward, following the path the blackbirds had taken.


    It had taken me but a few feet to uncover what it was that they squawked about.


    Before me stood a looming gray castle, its spires so tall they disappeared into the clouds, and I swear that they had pierced straight through heaven. At the base of the stairs, which lead up to the ominous monolith, bared by a pair of imposing giant doors, were bodies. Silently I counted, nine in total. Each body was in a different state of decay. The freshest was that of Katherine.


    The pink dress that she had left in was no longer pink but stained with blood and other bodily fluids- I swallowed back the bitter taste of bile as it raised in my throat.


    Wordlessly I moved over to stand before her and look up the length of her rotting corpse. Whatever had done this had been just as cruel as it had to the other eight. For at the base of her throat, a single deep gash ran the width of her neck.


    As I appraised her, I recalled how I had hoped, briefly, that the girl had survived her encounter with the creature. I had known better, and I was still resolute in my thinking; she had deserved this. Whatever monstrosity remained within the towering castle walls had not wanted to be disturbed, and the impaled corpses painted an unequivocal warning.


    ''Travelers beware. Death to any. Abandon all hope.''


    "Who are you?"


    I had been so intent on my examination that when the deep gravel of a man''s voice demanded to know who I was from behind, it has caused me to yelped and spin around quickly on my heels. I suddenly felt like a child caught in the act of doing something naughty. What was I so ashamed of? I wasn''t doing anything wrong!


    I shook my head once to remind myself I had done absolutely nothing wrong and instead to ponder how the stranger had managed to sneak up on me so silently.


    I swallowed hard, squaring my shoulders and trying to hide the fact that he had startled me, although I knew he had heard me cry out. His expression was unreadable, save for the way his brows remained tightly knitted in a disapproving scowl.


    "Who are you?" He repeated, a note of annoyance clinging to the last letter of his question.


    "I could ask you the same thing!" I barked back, puffing out my chest in a mock gesture of strength, "Who are you?"


    The tall golden-haired man huffed, seemingly uninterested or disappointed in my response, "Why are you here?"


    I held my tongue, considering how next I should answer. However, my mouth moved much faster than my brain, "Why are you here too!?"


    My comment had been enough to finally elicit emotion to spread across the man''s symmetrical, handsome face. "Answer my questions! I grow tired of your childish responses."


    I flinched and raised my hands submissively; I had no choice but to answer him. "I''m a simple village girl here to find out the condition of one of the bodies here. That''s all."


    The soured expression relaxed on my new acquaintances'' features as he crossed his long arms over his broad chest, "Then I assume you are here to also uncover the truth about the creature who lives here?"


    "I won''t lie and say I''m not curious, but no, that was never my mission. Why?"


    This caused him to quirk a slender brow, perhaps quizzically "Because all the corpses that surround you allowed curiosity to get the better of them. Why should I think you''re any different?"


    This time it was my face that twisted into a mask of annoyance- how dare he accuse me of lying! "What purpose would there be for me to lie?"


    "You could be attempting to forestall your death, like that one," he gestured towards Katherine. "I presume you know her."


    I did not respond immediately, "And if I were to say yes, what then? Would the creature of this castle slit my throat and impale me on a stake too?"


    The golden-haired stranger snorted, "Perhaps."


    "Then why does it not kill you? Surely if this monster has no desire to be disturbed, your presence would not be tolerated either."


    The stranger nodded with a chuckle- I failed to see what was so amusing, "It wouldn''t, save for the fact that I am the legendary monster holed up in Dracula''s moving castle."


    I involuntarily sucked in a deep breath, the frigid air causing my lungs to burn- was he truly the creature? How could he be?


    "Surprised?" He questioned, finally moving to stand before me, immediately making me feel the size of a mouse as he loomed over me easily.


    Now that he was close, I could see the truth, and I understood why the village leader had called him a ''creature.'' He was a vampire.


    Weakly I swallowed the lump of fear that had begun to choke me and shook my head slowly, forcing my brows to drop in defiance, " I was expecting to find something more akin to Dracula''s horde- demons from hell and all that, not a man."


    "Who''s to say I am a man? I''ve already killed a handful of your kind. Does that not immediately qualify me as a beast in your kind''s eyes?"


    He was testing me, "I wouldn''t be alive if you were a monster, would it? If memory serves, the night creatures kill indiscriminately, rather than have conversations. Yet here I am, still sucking air."


    Immediately I knew he didn''t like my answer, and I could see this as I stared up into his liquid amber eyes as they grew stormy.


    "You shouldn''t be here- consider this my last mortal courtesy: leave before I change my mind and kill you like I have the others of your filthy race."


    With a snarl and a stamp of my foot, I snapped back my response. "No!"


    I watched as a muscle in the stranger''s jaw ticked. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, I stepped back and expounded, "I''m not here to bother you or engage in conversation or convince you you''re not a monster! I''m simply here for that" I jerked my thumb towards the rotting remains of Katherine, "bitch! Once I have her, you''ll never see me again, and you can continue to be the terrible beasty, holed up in his damned castle."


    A lengthy pause stretched between us as we stood out in the quietly falling snow. I was expecting to die right there on the spot for my defiance. I had absolutely no right to challenge him, but I hadn''t left home to trek through hell and high-water, just to return without Katherine''s corpse.


    I continued to glare up into his stormy amber eyes as seconds ticked by into what felt like hours. I tried to watch and see if the tempest in the stranger''s eyes grew darker, but his expression simply remained one of cold indifference.


    This waiting was making me sick.


    Finally, he sighed and walked past me, "You are by far one of the most foolish or brave mortals I''ve encountered in some time, but if you insist, allow us to continue this conversation indoors. If I wished to kill you via exposure, I''d simply leave you shackled to your friend."


    I could have quipped that the village leader''s daughter was no friend of mine, but all I could do was remain rooted in place, staring after the beautiful stranger, my mouth hanging open in shock.


    It took the man to look over his broad shoulder to see if I had fallen in tow before I regained my composure and jogged after him, eyes immediately widening as the doors groaned open on aging hinges.


    Briefly, I cast one last look out towards the garden of corpses and wondered if, within the hour, I''d be among their grim company.

 Episode 7- Warmth

    I wasn''t quite sure what to expect when I stepped past the threshold into Dracula''s castle- maybe I''d anticipated seeing the same sort of carnage there''d been outside, where bodies littered the walls and floors? Or, perhaps opulent splendor where gold glittered, and gemstones twinkled like a million stars. What I saw was something else altogether.


    Our footsteps were a cacophony of steady thumps that filled the expansive foyer with its high vaulted ceilings, hanging candelabras, and damaged white marble floors. The floor, as it were, was relatively untouched save for the enormous cracks that splintered the almost mirror-like finish. Splitting the room almost evenly was a deep crimson runner with intricate golden inlaid designs that stretched the length of the room. The once beautiful carpeting lead up a pair of connected spiraling staircases- which traversed deeper into the castle. However, the carpet was tattered and torn- either with age or perhaps the same damage that had been dealt to the floor.


    I wondered absently as we walked, what stories could the walls of Dracula''s castle tell me. Perhaps stories of a man turned monster, lost to the crushing grief after losing someone he loved.


    "Forgive the state of the castle," the stranger finally spoke over his shoulder, "it has been through much." His voice shook me from my reverie and caused me to fixate my eyes on his silken shoulder-length golden locks. I lost myself to an errant thought, my fingers itching, as I stared- I wanted to run my fingers through the soft waves, if only for a moment. I shook my head to dislodge the idea, wondering where it had spawned.


    "No, no," I chirped quickly, "I doubt you were expecting guests," I mused with a sigh, hoping my voice had come out even as I forced my gaze to fall to my feet.


    We walked for a time, and where I had initially thought we would take refuge in a library or sitting area, my new acquaintance stopped us in a modest kitchen. This mysterious host of mine was certainly full of surprises.


    The kitchen was much smaller than I had anticipated, but it felt homey. On the far wall sat an ivory basin which sat inside, what I could only describe as cabinets. I marveled for a moment, reminding myself that there was more to see.


    Directly in the center of the room sat a simple table with five chairs- four on either side and one at the head facing the doorway we''d come through. To the right, illuminating much of room and bathing it in soft light, sat a tall ornate window. It seemed strange to me that a vampire would allow so much natural light into his inner sanctum, but what did I know of vampires?


    On the opposite wall sat a stove and oven.


    I continued to marvel, stopping to stand at the door as the stranger walked further into the kitchen, seeming content to go about his tasks without so much as a sidelong glance at me.


    We remained silent for a time as he banged around the kitchen, collecting various things like a knife, cutting board, and dishes.


    The stagnant silence had begun to make my skin itch- he had invited me inside to continue our conversation from earlier, and yet we both remained as silent as the grave.


    Finally, sick of waiting, I opened my mouth, "So, do you live alone?"


    He didn''t immediately answer me and instead began slicing into a fruit I''d only ever seen once, perhaps twice. I remember it had tasted bitter despite its startling resemblance to an apple.


    "Why?" His voice was cold, accusing, "So you can stake me and run without fear of retaliation." He paused to flick his amber eyes towards me as if he was expecting the answer to be written on my face. Before he turned back to his cutting, he finished, "You wouldn''t be the first to try."


    His words stung like an icy knife piercing straight through my heart. I was wounded, and while I shouldn''t have cared, I wondered why he hated us, humans, so profoundly.


    "No, that thought hadn''t even crossed my mind," I crooned painfully, "I just expected someone else to reside here. It''s a large castle, and it''s lonely without company."


    Another palpable silence expanded between us before I found the courage to ask what I had been curious to know since the first moment we''d spoken. "Why must you immediately assume I want you dead? Is it merely because I am human?"


    The stranger stopped and turned, his arms once more folding over his chest as he stared me down from across the room, the same cold indifference radiating off of him like a blistering winter wind.


    "That is precisely the reason," he glowered, "your kind kills anything it does not understand."


    I could not argue this fact- humans had done many questionable things throughout our history, but hadn''t vampires? I wanted to remind him of this fact, but I simply let my initial reply melt bitterly across my tongue.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "I''m human, but not all of my kind are like this."


    The stranger turned away from me again, "We shall see."


    Time passed in silence again as the stranger cooked. I found myself curious about why he was preparing a meal, as the only rumors I had ever heard about the Children of the Night had been that they consumed only blood. Why then was it that this man, clearly a vampire, cooked? I reasoned it surely was not for my benefit- he had made it abundantly clear he detested all of humankind, not just me. In truth, it bothered me to see him slaving away, preparing a meal that he could not eat, and that I had no right to. If he was doing this out of the remaining goodness of his heart, he needed to stop; I could prepare my own food.


    "I thought your kind could not eat- human food, I mean. That you only drank blood?" The question had ripped free from my lips as quickly as it had sparked in my mind. Inwardly I winced, immediately wishing I could take every word that hung in the air between us back but knew full well I couldn''t. Then a thought struck me, and my blood felt like it turned into ice water, "Is that why you invited me in? To eat me?"


    A disgusted chuckle erupted from the man''s lips even as he continued his ministrations until he turned and leveled the knife he''d been using to slice potatoes, at me. "Vampires do," he began, "but my mother was human, thus my ability to survive on either source."


    He dropped the knife to his side and snickered dryly before he finished, "Besides, if I had a desire to drink blood, you''d be spared my fangs. You smell like-" his voice trailed off, and his golden eyes flicked away from me to a pair of dolls I hadn''t noticed before.


    They looked, somehow familiar, but I knew I''d never seen their faces- who were these people? "-Nevermind."


    I found my cheeks suddenly growing feverish as he implied I stunk. Of course, I did, I thought, I''d been out in the wilderness for the past week! How was I to have taken a bath? Instead of demanding to know what I should have done to smell better, I simply grumbled embarrassedly beneath my breath.


    The tangible silence that I''d almost become accustomed to after our brief snippets of conversation settled around us again. I had initially thought that the times where we did exchange barbs were better than when we didn''t, but I found the silence comforting now. I detested the way he lumped all humans together- after all, hadn''t his mother been human? Wasn''t he implying that she was no better?


    "You said you came here to collect your friend. Why?" The man''s deep voice almost startled me, but the fiery hatred I had felt for Katherine muted my shock.


    "We weren''t friends," I snapped, wanting to say more but deciding to keep some of the details to myself.


    "Then why come at all? It seems idiotic to have come all this way for someone you clearly despise."


    I had hoped to avoid this conversation, but seeing as he''d not eaten me or stuck a stake up my arse, I felt obligated to answer.


    "I did it for my siblings."


    I''d not thought about the twins since I''d left home- I missed their dirty, smiling faces, and Timothy was always just at the edge of my mind. I longed to see them again, and my heart gave a pained ache as the thought filled my head.


    "The girl outside, surely she can''t be your mother. Why would your siblings benefit from her wellbeing?"


    I supposed my answer had seemed odd, especially since I''d not explained.


    "Because my father had offered to locate her," I huffed, feeling the weight of the stranger''s gaze as I tore my eyes away from him and fixated them instead on his boots, glaring imaginary holes into the tops. "He knows about the night creatures, how to fight, and kill them due to the aide of Trevor Belmont." I paused to suck in a shuddering breath, "I knew that-" I stammered, my chest aching, "that he would die if he came here. I thought that he could care for my siblings far better than I could. So, I came in his stead."


    I was thankful when the stranger didn''t inquire further about my family- I had my secrets too. Whether he had picked up on the hidden notes in my voice or he saw the storm in my eyes, I don''t know, but I was grateful.


    Instead, the man hummed once and looked off towards the window to my right before he spoke, "Trevor Belmont? Last of the House of Belmont?"


    It should not have surprised me that a vampire knew who the Belmonts were, after all, the infamous excommunicated family had made it their life''s work to kill monsters.


    "I don''t know of many others with the same surname," I quipped, now folding my arms over my chest, "Why?" There was something the stranger was not telling me, and I would find out even if it meant being thrown out in the cold.


    "It isn''t important." His answer made my face screw up in annoyance- he could drill into me for answers, but the moment I returned the favor, he got to clam up? No, absolutely out of the question!


    With a huff, I marched to stand beside him and glare him down, to which he turned and challenged me.


    "If it wasn''t important, you would not have broached the subject. Why do you want to know?"


    The man sighed heavily, perhaps sensing that it was his turn to divulge the details of his life like he had expected me to. "I was merely recalling a happier time long ago. A time when I was aided by a magician and a vampire hunter." He had stopped, standing straight so he could tower over me in an attempt to intimidate me, "Does that sate your curiosity?"


    I''d been taken aback by his omission of truth- he''d been helped by a vampire hunter? I was floored! Why in the world would a person, sworn to hunt his kind, aide him in any facet? A bubble of laughter formed in my chest and made it hard to breathe. Before I could swallow it down, I began to laugh freely, catching the stranger off-guard.


    My acquaintance regarded me with one of those quirked brows as he watched me laugh for a moment, likely wondering what I had found so amusing. Good, I thought, let him wonder.


    "I fail to see how this is amusing," he finally quipped with a grumble, making me quiet myself with a sigh.


    I shook my head and chuckled one last time before I replied, "Forgive me, I did not mean to laugh. I merely thought of the old edict that opposites attract."


    For the first time I think that evening, I watched the hint of a genuine smile crack the otherwise cold man''s pale lips. It was brief, but it immediately illuminated the room with warmth, "I suppose in this situation, it does."

 Episode 8- Castle of Ice

    Seeing a smile, even if it was but a flicker, had made every sharp barb, ever backhanded insult almost worth the sting. My mysterious host, even despite his fangs, had a truly beautiful smile. It was a shame he did not put it on display more often.


    Dinner was finished by the time I tore my eyes up from my long fingernails when the same gravely voice caressed my ear. "Follow me."


    The command took me by surprise- while I wanted to ask why, not directly, I approached the question a different way, "You wish me to accompany you?" There had been a note of excitement that felt out of place. Even when the words replayed in my head like a music box, why did I find myself pining to hear what I knew wouldn''t be his answer?


    "I do not want you poking around my castle." That had been what I had anticipated, but not the reply I had wanted. I didn''t quite know what I had wanted- maybe a joke? Another smile?


    I replied by unfastening my heavy cloak and laying it over the back of one of the chairs, sauntering over to the door to wait for the mysterious stranger to whisk us away to another part of his castle.


    "Why is it you call this castle yours? If memory serves, you did not argue with me when I said the castle belonged to you when we first met. Is this not Dracula''s castle, or do you simply claim it is yours because he is no longer alive?" I''d been wondering this very question since I''d entered- Dracula had been gone for some time, and I''d found it odd, up until recently, why bandits or thugs had not taken up residency here.


    I could feel the tension crackle in the air before I heard the stranger huff tiredly- perhaps I''d asked too many questions. Thankfully, my worry was put to rest when he responded, his pace never slowing, "I call it my castle as Dracula was my father. With him gone, it thus has fallen into my care and charge."


    I wish I could have said that I''d been anticipating this new information, but when the words filled my ears and buzzed about, it rooted me. For a time, I stood frozen staring after my pale acquaintance- was he truly the son of Dracula?


    The golden-haired man ceased his walk and paused to look back at me, that same questioning expression painted across his handsome features. As we stared at one another speechlessly, I, for what felt like was the first time, earnestly examined the mysterious man. I knew I had never seen Dracula, but the man before me did not remind me, save for his proclivity to impale the corpses of his enemies, of the vampiric count. "Was your father truly Dracula?" I croaked hoarsely, not finding my voice quite yet.


    "That is what I just stated, yes," the exasperated tone in the vampire''s voice denoted his impatience. Whether I realized it or not, I''d begun to wade onto treacherously thin ice, but this fact had not registered yet as my mind was fixated on Bess. The words the old woman, spirit, wild figment of my imagination or whatever she''d been, repeated again and again inside my mind.


    Why was it, I gulped as I stepped closer to the beautiful man, that he resembled Lisa? Could he be her son? I stopped inches from him, looking up into his searching amber gaze, for the answers I already knew.


    "You-" I breathed, drawing in my bottom lip as I attempted to collect my thoughts before I continued, "-you said your mother was human, yes?"


    The frustration that bloomed between us snapped like a whip as I realized I''d asked too many questions, and the ice beneath my feet cracked, plunging me into the cold depths, that I had overstepped his limit.


    "Yes!" The man barked, causing me to stumble back cautiously, my eyes transfixed on the long gleaming fangs in his mouth, "Does your incessant questions have a point or are you simply attempting to change my mind on sparing your miserable life?!"


    Frightened, like a rabbit running away from a wolf, I began to quiver. "N-No!" I quickly blurted, raising my hands again, this time in an attempt to shield myself, "I-I just knew your mother, Lisa!"


    Like water dousing a flame, so too was my host''s anger extinguished and, in its stead, was sorrow that stretched on into the dark depths of eternity.


    We stood there again, silent, as we allowed the proverbial dust to settle around us. I was already questioning whether I''d signed my death warrant when that already familiar deep voice inquired of me but a single question.


    "How did you know her- my mother?"


    I had not realized every muscle in my body was tightly wound until I felt the stiffness ease, and I lowered my hands. "Lisa helped deliver my younger siblings." The memory flashed across my mind like a storm, igniting brief images of the night the twins had been born to fill my head. "If it had not been for your mother and her aid, all three would have been lost."


    My words seemed to extend across the distance that separated us and caress the fair-haired man''s smooth cheek. His eyes had not left me once, and I found myself falling into their fathomless liquid depths again, "I will always remain eternally grateful to her."


    The look which crossed the man''s face next was as if the loving caress that my words had offered, now sucker-punched him in the gut.


    I had wanted, more than anything, for him to say something, even if it was to bellow at me again, but he didn''t. Instead, he turned from me and walked away. I stood fixed in place, feeling a leaden weight press down across my shoulders and threaten to crush me. I was sorry, so profoundly repentant for whatever I had said, that I wanted to beg for his forgiveness, but I didn''t. I couldn''t. Instead, like the dutiful house guest, I should have been since his invitation, I chased after.


    We continued to walk wordless, side by side through the halls of the castle until we came upon a narrow winding stairwell, which we followed down into a basement- no, a wine cellar? The majority of the bottles had been damaged, broken open as they''d been toppled over. As I looked around the damp room, wondering briefly if any had survived.


    My question was answered when the stoic stranger marched forward, leaving me to stand beside the threshold as he collected a single green bottle. Quietly I watched my host appraise it with a scrutinized glare before he turned, and we were ascending the stairs again- likely to return to the kitchen.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    My tongue burned with the desire to apologize for my earlier behavior- I had never intended to cause the sullen man strife. Damn my curiosity! I began to berate myself for how I had acted- I was no better than Katherine and her imbecilic fancies.


    We were once more within the warm kitchen, the savory smell of garlic, fresh fish, and rosemary wafted through the air like a hypnotic perfume. My stomach was the first to break the silence with an audible grumble.


    My cheeks immediately ignited with warmth as I knew the beautiful man had heard my hungry belly''s unladylike demand for food. I didn''t want to look, I knew I''d die there on the spot from embarrassment, but I had to know for sure. Finally, forcing myself to see if he was watching me, I lifted my chin. I was unsurprised when I caught the golden-eyed vampire''s gaze flick to me once and then away again.


    Oh god, I thought as I began to fidget anxiously with the frayed sleeve of my undershirt, he''d heard it!


    I had begun chiding myself again when the sound of clattering dishes filled my ears, and I couldn''t resist the urge to follow the sound with my stare. I watched, lost, as Dracula''s son began filling not one but two plates. While I salivated at the thought of eating far better than the charred white fish and bland turnips I''d consumed the night before, I felt my stomach twist in shame.


    I continue to follow his movements, watching as he floated across the room to set one plate at the head of the table and the other to his left. He finished by placing two sets of dining ware, a cloth napkin, and filling two long-stemmed glasses with white wine.


    I''m suddenly struck dumb. Do I say thank you, or do I apologize for assuming the other setting is free for me?


    "I-" my voice finally returns after a moment, my fingers still picking at a loose string on my undershirt, "What is this?" Internally I roll my eyes- was that honesty the best I could come back with?


    "It''s supper."


    Of course, it was, I had eyes! My tongue burned to reply my internal thoughts, but I forced myself to swallow them and then shook my head twice before I forged onward, "Why?"


    I couldn''t bring myself to look up at him again; I knew that if I did, I''d crumble into a pile of ash from the scorching embarrassment I could feel igniting my body in invisible flame.


    "Why what? Are you not hungry?"


    For the briefest of moments, so quick it rivaled that of a single beat from a hummingbird''s wing, did a note of hurt hang off the end of my acquaintance''s question; I forgot my shame.


    "N-no! I am, it''s just-" I struggle to find the words, "I can''t pay you. I mean, for the meal."


    The man''s irritation knocks into me like a blast of frigid arctic air as I hear him huff and watch from behind the curtain of my ebony lashes, as he crosses his arms again.


    "I never expected repayment," he pauses to suck in a breath, his voice soft as he continues, "instead, I had hoped to repay you."


    What? Was my mind playing tricks on again, or had I heard him correctly?


    My head snaps up so quickly I think I''ll fall over.


    "For what?!" I squeak surprised, the warmth from earlier reigniting beneath my ivory skin and filling my head with a million questions.


    The same breath of a smile returns to his lips, and I feel myself wheeze- I must be dreaming!


    "For your almost enjoyable company."


    "My almost enjoyable company?" I repeat before I pause to drop my head to hide my smile. " Careful," I tease, finally lifting my face to flash a cheeky grin, "that was almost a compliment."


    A soft, throaty chuckle- not one of bitterness, or humorlessness but of genuine joy, issues past his pale lips. "Please, don''t make me reconsider doing so again."


    I didn''t sully the pureness of this moment with idle chatter or any more witty jokes- not after hearing a kindness I thought didn''t exist here.


    Dinner had progressed smoothly in relative silence. I didn''t mind it now- in fact; I cherished every second we sat there side by side, eating our meals. It was nice to have someone there.


    I wondered as we ate if Dracula''s son felt the same. If the same thoughts that filled my head, ran through his too? Occasionally I''d steal a glance up over the edge of my glass or peek up from my supper to see if his face denoted the answers to my unspoken questions. Much to my dismay each time I looked, I''d find his features unreadable.


    To be privy to his private thoughts even for a moment, I would have paid anything to know.


    My acquaintance was the first to finish dinner. However, instead of clearing away his plate, he waited silently for me, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Heat returned to my cheeks the moment his molten gold eyes bore into the side of my face. Try as I might, I couldn''t ignore his weighted stare. Did he have to watch me so intensely?!


    "Thank you," I mumbled, dabbing the corners of my mouth with the cloth napkin after my last bite, "it, the food I mean, was divine."


    The golden-haired enigma nodded his head once before another hint of a smile danced across his mouth, "I''m pleased you enjoyed it," was all he said as he reached out for my dirty dish.


    I didn''t give him the opportunity to when I quickly took both our plates away and marched over to the white basin, intent on repaying him for his kindness by way of cleaning up. It was only fair. This time I was smart enough not to chance a glance over my shoulder to see if my companion''s angular features reflected one of disapproval. I didn''t care, I was grateful, and that was all that mattered presently.


    I made quick work of the supper mess and moved to collect my satchel and cloak as I needed sleep- I had no desire to stay out in the cold after I''d enjoyed the warmth of the castle the last few hours, but I didn''t have any other alternative.


    "You plan on sleeping outside during a snowstorm?" The golden-haired man''s voice caught me off guard again. Surely I''d get accustomed to his sudden questions, right?


    "I don''t have much other choice," I voiced my earlier thought, "I''ll be-"


    "You''ll be frozen before dawn."


    Had that been concern in his voice, or perhaps kindness? I dislodged the thought with a chortle of laughter, "I''ll survive. If not, what''s one more corpse for your growing garden?"


    I didn''t want to die, but I certainly wasn''t going to impose either. The angel-faced enigma had fashioned himself a monster. Who was I to attempt to change his skewed thinking? No one. It wasn''t my place to prove to him otherwise.


    "Perhaps then, you would consider an alternative solution?"


    Adjusting one of the long straps of my satchel to sit more comfortably on my shoulder, I quirked a brow, interested, "Such as?"


    My host paused for a moment even as I stared after him, likely considering his words carefully, "I''ll permit you to stay in my castle for the evening. When morning comes, you may leave."


    If Dracula''s son had been attempting to play up his monstrous nature, he was doing rather poorly! What evil, bloodthirsty monster spared the life of an intruder, shared a peaceful meal with his victim, and then offered them a warm place to sleep for the night?


    None that came to mind. I smiled to myself briefly- whoever this man was, there was still goodness in his heart, even if he didn''t want to see it.


    "Are you certain?" I challenged, "I thought the monster of this keep hated my kind." I knew I was pushing his boundaries, and I knew I had no right to attempt to change his mind- even if he was wrong.


    Check.


    "If you truly wish to see a monster, then I could always throw you out into the biting cold myself. However, if you''re done trying to goad me, then maybe you''ll allow me to show you to your room for the night instead."


    Checkmate- damnit.


    As if to pour salt into the already blistering wound, my host began walking away without so much as a sparing glance to see if I was following.


    He knew I''d follow- of course, he knew! I''m sure he''d also know I''d resist pridefully for a moment before falling in line behind him quietly- like I did.


    For the first time that day, I didn''t need to see his face. I gleaned, just by the bounce in his step, he wore a triumphant cheeky grin.

 Episode 9- What Once was Lost

    If someone from my village had told me that I''d be a guest in Castle Dracula and that the prolific Count''s son was to be the issuer of said invitation, I''d have told them they were mad. No one who walked through the threshold of the horrific monolith, ever came out alive; at least that''s what all the stories circulating around it ever said.


    Yet somehow, I''d been spared. Why?


    I''d have been content to remain within my reverie for a time, but the husky baritone voice I''d come to know already broke through. "This is where you''ll be lodging for the evening." I tried to clear the shattered remains of my thoughts left behind by blinking quickly- it did little good. However, the room that I was being offered had done the trick.


    It was a safe assumption that my childhood home was dwarfed by my current lodgings- almost tenfold. For a moment, I stood dumbfounded, mouth agape, and eyes mirroring saucers at the opulence and splendor- was this indeed the room I was permitted to stay in?


    "You are welcome to any of the amenities your lodgings provide," my host''s voice had once more been the anchoring point that drew me back from the depths of my mind.


    "It-" I breathed, lost for words, attempting to find a single descriptor that could aptly encapsulate the majesty.


    "I trust it is to your satisfaction?"


    His question was unnecessary- the room was splendid and exceeded my modest expectations. "It''s perfect," I mused with a sigh, spinning around the room to admire the vaulted ceilings, the rich woods, the glimmering brass fixtures, and of course, the mammoth bed that called my name sweetly. Selfishly I began to fantasize about curling up beneath the heavy duvet- already imagining how the velvet bedding would envelop my body and whisk me off easily into a dreamless sleep.


    "Thank you," my voice little more than a whisper, my eyes wildly flicking about, desperately trying to drink in every sconce and votive. I wanted to commit every beautiful detail to memory, especially if I awoke the next morning, and all of this, my journey and this castle, had naught been but a fever dream.


    Compounding every ounce of my will to turn and regard my kindhearted acquaintance with a beaming smile- words wouldn''t form, no matter how hard I tried to grasp them from thin air. It didn''t matter, the gorgeous man, with his silky tresses of spun gold and creamy alabaster skin, nodded curtly. He knew what I was going to say, even if my mouth failed me hence.


    This had been the second act of generosity that I knew I couldn''t repay. Desperately, like a drowning man clawing at the water for air, I too grasped blindly for an idea that would be sufficient repayment.


    Where did I start, though? I had no money, and nothing I owned was of any value. What did I possibly possess that would be worthy of his kindness? What could I give the benevolent angel that he did not already own?


    I was at a loss.


    My eyes blinked away the haze of my thoughts, and I look up into the face of the vampiric aristocrat- searching those golden pools for an answer. I don''t find anything there as he stares down at me. I feel my heart begin to hammer against my ribcage and then leap into my throat, threatening to choke me.


    I have to calm myself or like how he''d heard my stomach; he''d hear my heart''s deafening rhythm. In a feeble effort to slow its wicked pace, I swallow hard and force myself to speak, "H-how can I ever-"


    "Repay me?" He finishes, his tone flat, denoting nothing of his feelings, yet I hang onto every second of silence.


    "You could start by bathing- frankly, you smell like a dead dog."


    So much for kind and gentle!


    "You, you-!" I yelp, flushing the same hue as the heavy curtains, storming further into the lovely room. With a huff, I throw my satchel down with a thunderous crash and look back with a hellish glare. "At least I do not smell like a musty old man, y-you ill-tempered ass!"


    I should not have called him names; I should have been grateful, but how dare he! I was furious, I was embarrassed, but above all, I was ashamed. I should not have been. I knew this. I''d been out in the wilderness for the better part of a week- if I had had a choice in the matter, I''d have smelled of lilac and rose oil!


    "Well," my host snorts, shifting his weight from one of his long legs to the other, arms crossed tightly over his chest, "I''ll leave you to your own devices." For the first time that evening, I actually wish he''d leave posthaste. I can''t bear to look at him a moment more!


    The burning urge to quip with more barbed insults ignites my tongue in liquid fire, but I resisted the urge and swallowed them down with a wince. I remind myself, like it is my sacred mantra, that I am his guest, and a certain amount of decorum was expected. Still, I glare invisible holes into the toes of my boots, patiently waiting until the delicate little vampire princeling retreats off into his corner to brood.


    When I hear the steady beat of the man''s receding footsteps, I feel my insides twists into a sickening ball of sailors'' knots. I know I should have thanked him again. He had been magnanimous enough to allow me to take shelter from the harsh winter in his abode, yet, my blood still boils with my unquenched fury. He could have made his point without reminding me of my malodorous nature. I know full well I did not smell pleasant!


    Quickly, I scamper across the distance separating the doorway and me, and I lean out, hoping to catch the man in order to offer one final ''thank you.'' It doesn''t take my eyes but a moment to lock onto his back as he walks away. "Thank you, uhm-" I stumble lamely over my own tongue, only now realizing as I search my memory for the stranger''s name, fully aware that we had not exchanged them yet. I briefly smile smugly to myself as I reason I could always call him ''stubborn ass'' again- it suited him. I chuckled at the thought as it soothes my wounded pride momentarily before the sobering thought that I know better, reminds me to stay my tongue.


    "Adrian," the name reaches my ears. At first, I don''t understand his response. Then, as if the fog lifts, I realize what he''s given is his name. I smile to myself, thinking that any other name would not have suited him.


    "Adrian Tepes. Or, Alucard, as the Wallachians call me."


    "Well, thank you again, Adrian! I am grateful beyond what words can ever express." He did not stop even after I''d given my last reply, instead offering only a nod to show his acknowledgment. For a long time, I watch him as he goes, admiring the way the pale moonlight baths his angular features.


    A heavy sigh heaves past my lips before I reason I should begin preparing for bed.


    I step away from the door; my thoughts transfixed on the desire to disrobe and sink into arms of warm, safe slumber. Yet, as I step away and pull my filthy gray tunic over my head, my eyes shoot open as I realize the err of my ways: I hadn''t offered my name in return! Turning on my heels, I peek my head through the door, calling out, "I''m Anna!"


    All that greets my eyes is an empty hallway.


    Disappointment clutches at my insides, "Anna Truemare," I mumble with a sigh, closing myself into my chambers for the evening.


    Wordlessly I saunter over to the deep brass basin that sits beside a large cathedral-like window and stare at the bath, puzzled. How is water delivered? With a frustrated grumble, I fixate on the chilly panes and watch the outside world quietly. I wanted to see stars, the heavens, to peer out and see just how close we were to St. Peter''s golden gates. All I see, however, is little more than a white blur. I pray as I work my hair free from the braid, that the snow will stop soon.


    Initially, when I had set out on my journey, I had not considered the eventuality that it would snow, now, as I stared out at the barren white wasteland, I shiver as my mind recalls the biting cold. Already I began to fret- would I even survive?


    I wanted to live in this moment forever; warm and safe.


    With my hair free, I pivot on my heels to begin fiddling with a series of knobs that I learned quickly, control both hot and cold water. I knew it wasn''t magic- at least, I assumed it wasn''t. Lisa had been branded and burned as a witch, but she had been what some called a doctor, a woman of science. While these words were alien to me, I wondered if her son was the same, if he too used science to deliver water into my bath.


    After a moment of contemplation and an extended period of fiddling with the brass knobs, I settled on a comfortably warm temperature, allowing the deep basin to fill with water.


    As quickly as I had discarded the tattered gray tunic, so too did I leave the rest of my filthy clothes in a pool beneath my feet.


    Cautiously I stepped into the basin and sank into the warm waters, moaning beneath my breath as I feel every knot and tight muscle ease. If heaven existed, this was it. With another contented sigh, I lay back against the warm brass and let my eyes flutter shut.


    I lay there, soaking, letting the sands of time fall through the hourglass until I feel weightless. I will my mind to quiet for a time as I imagine a shimmering pool of placid water. I force the water to remain untouched and still, but this lasts for, but a breath. Ripples of thoughts drip into the undisturbed surface as I begin thinking about all that has happened and all that must happen.


    Lazily I let my eyes flutter open, and I stare absently at the ceiling above me, gnawing my bottom lip anxiously.


    Father will be furious with me upon my arrival, I think, lifting one of my hands to caress the raised, jagged scars that run from the side of my neck to the swell of my right breast. I can already hear his words, scolding me for daring to steal from him and run away, for thinking that it was my place to leave. I imagine how the conversation will go, of how I''ll beg him to understand that what I did, I did out of love. Admittedly, I think as I sink further into the water until I''m completely submerged, he will be forgiving.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    My little world is quiet, save for the steady thump of my heart in my ears as I lay there, back pressed firmly against the bottom of the basin. I enjoy this moment of peace as bubbles rush from my lips while I breathe out slowly. Finally, when my lungs are empty, do I sit up with a gasp and rub my hands across my face to remove the droplets that slide down my flesh.


    I fold into myself, drawing my knees to my chest and resting the side of my face against the tops of my thighs- Sir Quartz will be furious. Not with me, maybe me for my inability to save his precious daughter, but certainly enraged by the ''creature.''


    A snicker of humorless laughter leaps past my lips, and I smile sadly as I think of the legendary monster.


    Immediately my mind begins to manifest Adrian''s ethereal features in my mind, and I''m willed to close my eyes as I envision him, once again bathed in the soft pale light of the moon.


    Alucard, the beautiful unknowable enigma, is no creature despite his desperate attempts to fashion himself that way. I could not say for sure what he had endured, save for the loss of his mother and father, but there was more than that sadness. His sadness was an ocean- turbulent and churning. He was a cold spot in a room, where the warmth of the sun could never touch, nor ever hope to. I wonder what it was that caused him to find his cruelty. What darkness has he suffered at the hands of mortals for him to take up his father''s bloody mantle? Something terrible, I think, as my eyes again flutter open, and I try to stare out the snow-covered window, wishing still that it would stop for just a moment.


    As I stare out into the frigid wastes, I feel my curiosity, thick like sap, coursing through my blood with my need to know Adrian''s hidden truths. I want to know, and I tell myself I need to know.


    But why? The rational part of me argues that it isn''t any of my business and that it isn''t within my right to ask either- she''s right, of course. His secrets are his to hold tightly to his chest; no one is privy to them, not even God. However, the part of me that finds the mysterious golden-haired man exciting whines pathetically to know the truth. It won''t matter, I huffed and began running my hands through my hair again, I''ll be gone by first light, and I''ll never see this place again. I''ll never see him again. Adrian will be but a distant dream.


    I feel a sharp ache in my chest that feels as if I''ve been stabbed, reasoning that the throbbing is from my unhealed wounds; they''d begun bothering me as of late. I straighten again, absently running my fingers along the unsightly injury.


    A hiss erupts from my lips as I press the pads of my fingers against the tender flesh.


    Tearing myself away from my thoughts, I look down to my fingers to find them wrinkled- I''ve been in the water too long, but reluctance keeps me seated for a time. The water is so warm, and this is the first time I''ve been able to feel my extremities for longer than a handful seconds. I know, however, that I can''t stay here forever. I have chores to finish.


    I do not tarry further and set about washing every crack and crevasse of my body, paying special mind to my long raven hair. Alucard had made it quite clear that I smelled like a dead animal- well, no more!


    With my personal hygiene taken care of and every inch of me so clean, I wonder if I shimmer like a precious stone, I stand and look down into the filthy water and cringe. Apparently, I had been far dirtier than I''d initially thought. I console myself with the sobering fact that, despite having had every desire to bathe, I didn''t want to leave anything to chance. Anything could have happened while I allowed myself to be exposed- whether that had been as prolonged as contracting an illness or encountering a predator.


    Quietly I collect a towel and dry off quickly, wrapping the linen tightly around my body in a makeshift dress to obscure my nudity. I empty the filthy water from my bath and fill just the bottom with scalding hot water- it''s my clothes'' turn now. My mind wanders as I wash my clothes, paying particular attention to the bloodstains that ring the collar of my undershirt and my tunic. I know damn well that blood is nearly impossible to remove, but I try. I try until my fingers ache. I sigh with resignation as I stare down at the light brown stain- my clothes are ruined, but at least they tell a story.


    As I reach up with one of my hands and the pad of my thumb caresses the unsightly mark, I''m reminded of Bess; I''m reminded of the words she spoke to me the night she vanished. "Always remember the lesson that," I mutter and stand slowly to my full height, my dripping undergarments in my small hands "compassion makes a man and cruelty makes a monster. Sometimes wars can be won by your words, and a singular act of kindness can sway even the most lost and broken of souls." Her words before this had seemed foreign, like they did not fit into the fable that was my life. At least, they hadn''t until I''d stepped through the doors of Castle Dracula.


    How had she known to impart this wisdom unto me?


    I shake my train of thought loose, instead focusing all of my attention on wringing out my clothes. I couldn''t rightly walk around the castle in the buff, and I would glow as bright as the sun if I dared to be so immodest.


    After I had rung from my garments as much water as I could manage with my meager strength, I retreated to the one place I had been pining for since I''d laid my eyes on it- the large four-post bed with velvet bedding and enough pillows to drown in.


    Immediately I want to run across the room and leap onto the soft goose feather bed and feel it swallow me whole, but I resign myself to quietly marching over to it. I am too tired, I think, as I trudged over and flop down with a soft thump. I am happy just to lay down and give my muscles a chance to recuperate.


    Fatigue immediately begins to tug down roughly on my lids, attempting to coax me into sleep''s loving embrace. I''d have accepted the invitation with gusto if my mind hadn''t manifested a very real concern- that of Adrian coming to wake me at dawn. How immoral it would have been to have a man find me in such a state of undress, especially a man I had spoken less than a hundred words to. Despite being on a first-name basis, we were still strangers. The thought alone causes my heart to do little somersaults in my chest and my cheeks to feel feverish. "I suppose," I mutter with a yawn, "if he happens upon me in such a state, my leaving tomorrow will remedy any awkwardness. We''ll never see each other again."


    I couldn''t allow myself to miss what had never been mine- I had known what to expect on this mission, but I had not anticipated encountering another living person with whom, despite his smart mouth, I enjoyed being around. Well, at least when he wasn''t being an ass. I laughed at the thought, absently raising my hand to run my fingers along the long jagged scar that mars my ivory skin.


    For a time, I quietly pet the tight flesh until I find my eyes fluttering closed. Sleep has continued to dog me and try as I might to resist the urge to stave off her advances, I feel myself get dragged beneath the churning waves, and I fall into dreamlessness.


    I do not know how long I slept or if any of my dreams hang on the edge of my addled mind, but when next I opened my eyes to stare at the canopy that hung overhead, I knew it was late. Groggily I force myself to sit and look about my room, finding it just as I had left it when I''d laid down- save for the artificial light that had bathed my room in warmth. At some point, they had been extinguished, but by who? I searched through the cobwebs of my foggy mind to recall if I had been the cause, but for the life of me, I could not confirm it had been by my hand.


    I let the thought slip away when I look down the length of my towel-clad body, pleasantly aware of how warm and soft my skin is. Damn, I still needed to get up and make myself somewhat decent. I consider briefly forgoing clothes. Unlike the twins, I reason that Adrian is undoubtedly not the type to barge into a lady''s room and tear the covers off her body. Yet somewhere in the dark recesses of my memory, I can hear father scolding me for sleeping in the buff like a heathen.


    As I erected myself with a yawn, I once more absently run my hands through my tangled tresses and am surprised by how smooth they''ve become. Perhaps, I think with another soft caress with my spindly fingers; the water was magic.


    Another yawn quickly overtakes me, this one followed by a long, cat-like stretch that has me lifting my arms above my head. Half way through, I softly sob when the gashes on my neck and chest began to burn and tug- leaving behind the faint memory of tightness. For a long while, I sit curled into myself, clenching my shoulder with my free hand and trying to breathe through the remnants of my agony. God, why did it hurt so badly? With a brief, cursory check from quivering fingers, I find that the wound is cracked open but mostly intact.


    Damn my forgetfulness!


    Finally, the throbbing subsides, and I managed to catch my breath, my head swimming. At least it was over, for now, I think with a sigh.


    I remain perched on my bed, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. My gaze flicks about my surroundings in an attempt to locate my satchel. I recall immediately that earlier that day, I had purchased varying medicinal items. I kick myself for having nearly forgotten, but I argue that anyone with a brain in their head would have done the same- especially after meeting a vampire.


    As quickly and carefully so as not to disturb the wound further, I scooted across the bed until I stood on my own two feet again and move first over to my undergarments. If I had any inclination to prepare my makeshift healing salve, I would need clothes first. Mindful to avoid bumping the tender area, I shimmy into my undergarments before setting my sights on the satchel. I move over to where it sits abandoned, plopping down with a grunt as my right hand slips past the fold.


    Blindly I rummage about, feeling everything but the bushel of herbs and the small cloth pouch of crushed yarrow.


    "Damnit," I hiss to myself in frustration, "where are those blasted herbs?!


    It takes me much longer than I would have liked, but when I finally fished the thyme, lavender, and yarrow, I am already heading for the large double doors. Confidently I reach for the handle, but my fingers hover over the knob, frozen.


    Like the voice of reason, I hear Adrian''s voice, cold and indifferent, issue his strict command: "I do not want you poking around my castle."


    Anxiously I began to chew on the inside corner of my lip, contemplating his words with a wildly pounding heart. While I have no desire to break the one rule he''d been so emphatic about issuing, I reason that my pain outweighs his ruling.


    Besides, I think with a confident snort, he only wanted me not to go poking around- I know exactly where I''m going and what I plan on doing.


    As quietly as I can, I suck in several deep, calming breaths before stealthily pushing the heavy door open enough to wiggle my lithesome frame through. I almost sigh in relief, but remember that somewhere down the long stretching hallway to my right, a vampire sleeps in his coffin.


    I stand motionless in the hallway, not aware that I''m holding my breath until I gasp. I wince as I fixate my gaze on the impenetrable darkness, feet from me, watching to see if the familiar golden-haired man emerges with a sour look twisting his lovely features. Despite having already formulated my repose should I be caught, I feel myself withering beneath my crushing guilt. I wait but a moment more, collecting myself before I take off through the castle at a brisk walk, looking back over my shoulder until I''ve descended a long winding stairwell.


    As I walk, I think I see shadows flit across my vision and dance about like they did the night I stayed within Lindenfeld. My heart stops for a fraction of a second as I recall the suffocating terror, but, I will myself onward. If I had any chance of sleeping comfortably, I needed the healing properties from the herbs I clutched to my breasts.


    Relief almost immediately washes over me the moment I push my way in through the door leading into the kitchen, comforted by the familiar sight of the four-burner stove, the deep dish basin, and the simple dining table.


    However, it lasted but a moment when realization washes over me in a cold wave that had my skin prickling- I knew where absolutely nothing was. While an unfamiliar kitchen had been something I''d navigated through before with relative ease, the fact of the matter was that my host had better hearing than any dog. If I made so much as a peep or banged around too loudly, I knew he''d be there in a second- looming over me like he was so prone to doing.


    No, I encouraged, I''ll be as silent as death!


    At least that had been what I had told myself before I began searching for the kettle. While the hinges on the cabinets did not squeal in resistance, moving anything sounded like thunder to my ears.


    Why was my ruckus so much louder?!


    It took me several minutes to get everything prepared. Hot water set steaming in a mug, the yarrow sitting beside it, and the crushed mixture of thyme and lavender almost wholly ground into a fine powder that I would then mix with ash from the woodstove. The remaining steps I could complete in utter silence, at least I had thought so.


    As I poured the contents of the pleasant, spicy smelling yarrow into the mug, I shrieked when a voice, deep and accusatory snapped coolly behind me, "What is it that you think you''re doing?"

 Episode 10- The Wounds We Mend

    My fingers tremble with terror. It grips me so tightly I can scarcely breathe, much less conjure an intelligent response. I want to spill my guts, tell him everything I had done since I''d awoken from my sleep, but, even as I open my mouth, nothing comes out. Inwardly I flinch, feeling every second tick by, knowing that my lack of an explanation only compounds Adrian''s wrath. I need to speak, not just in my defense, but to quell his fury.


    "What is it that you think you''re doing? Answer me!" His question comes a second time, and I gasp, waking from my stupor, hearing that his patience is at an end.


    "I-I was only-" I remain rooted, my hands still clutching the mortar and pestle tightly, every inch of me trembles "I-I''m trying to ten-tend to my injuries. I swear, I only-"


    A snort of bitter laughter chirps between us, and I know, even before he speaks, he doesn''t believe me.


    "You mortals lie as easily as you breathe," he hisses, and I feel the air in my lungs rush out of me.


    No, I''m not lying, I swear! "B-but I''m not-"


    "I''m not finished! " Adrian snaps and advances into the room.


    Instinctively I draw back until I''m pressed against the cabinets, afraid that my last few breaths on this Earth will be taken in fear.


    "You''d think, after all of the betrayals I''ve suffered at the hands of you filthy mortals, I''d have learned to stop trusting you!" Violently, his accusations slap me across the cheek, and I can feel the feverish sting of their attack. I want to cry, but crying admits my guilt, doesn''t it? "Yet, even now, I extended my kindness, and you betray it, like every other worthless human-"


    No stop, I plead silently, I''m not lying!


    I clench my eyes shut, trying to resist my shameful emotional response. I can''t take it; I couldn''t stand there and let him think he was right, that I was like the rest of the world!


    "Stop it! Just stop!" I bellow, turning on my heels to stare down my accuser, fully aware that I''m overstepping my place, but I don''t care!


    He''ll listen to every god damn word I''m going to say!


    "I detest that you group me in with the rest of my race! Like I came here just to cause you harm! Like I''m some so-sort of a monster!" I continue to shout, my heart clenching, desperately trying to quell the outpouring of my fury and hurt. "I''m not like everyone else! Yet, you''re so stuck on this idea that you refuse to see that I''ve done nothing to you! You''re trying to find any excuse to kill me, to-to fit me into your skewed mold of a person who only wants to harm you! I''m not like them, any of them!"


    Silence, heavy and stifling, stagnates between us for a long while- the only sound is that of my labored gasping.


    Immediately I regret my words, and I turn my gaze away from Adrian, dizzy, unable to look at the shock which twists his features. I didn''t have to be cruel; I chide, resisting the stinging in the backs of my eyes, I could have been gentler.


    God damnit!


    Quietly I continue to stew, my eyes burning imaginary holes into the wall opposite us, even as I feel the vampire''s burning into my skin. Why was he still staring at me? Why hasn''t he said anything?! My bottom lip quivers, and I beg silently for him to utter something, anything; I can''t take this waiting!


    "Do you know what you''re doing?" He begins, and I squirm, "How to properly clean it?" His question catches me off guard, and I chance a look as he nods and flicks his long fingers towards the jagged scratches at my throat. Now he cares? Instinctively I try and cover it, feeling a mix of shame and discomfort, "That wound of yours will only get worse if you continue to assume blindly."


    As relieved as I am to hear him speak, my pride blinds me. I''m still reeling, still angry, still hurt. My fickle heart and wounded emotions beg him to hold his tongue- I don''t need his pity. "I''m not blindly poking at it!" I finally snap, fully aware of the venom in my tone. "If you hadn''t interrupted, immediately assuming the worst of me, I''d have already been done and back in my bed. You''d have never known about it!"


    Where I had expected the strange man to sigh with annoyance, or knit his eyebrows together in frustration after my goading, he instead remains silent and unreadable. His earlier hatred and distrust gone and now- nothing. I watch him step closer, realizing he''s only feet from me. No, I plead silently, stay away from me.


    He stops, and I begin to fidget, my heart thundering boisterously in my ears, and my mind begins to fill with fog- what is wrong with me!? I''m still furious with him! Just because he is lovely does not excuse his boorish behavior!


    I start trying to piece together the frazzled shards of my mind in an attempt to understand why I''m acting as I am when a bolt of realization dawns on me that I''m quite under-dressed. This new fact has me anxiously tugging at the tattered undershirt and feebly attempting to cover my torso. How much more stupid could I be?! I even go so far as to raise my arms and coddle my chest, mortar, and pestle still in hand. He can''t see me so immodest! Why did Adrian have to hear me and come storming into the kitchen as he did? Why couldn''t he have just left me alone?


    "Does it hurt you?" His voice is barely above a whisper, and I anxiously begin to fidget- maybe the silence had been better.


    "Does it hurt me?" I asked incredulously, infuriated by his idiotic question, "Of course it does!" I spit and attempt to press my wrist over the ugly wound, hyper-aware of the weight of Adrian''s stare.


    "Then, perhaps you might allow me to help you." I nearly sputter at his offer. Where had this sudden generosity come from? Hadn''t he been intent on skinning me alive and leaving me for dead but a few seconds ago? Why does he care if I''m nothing but a treacherous human?


    I open my mouth to quip that I don''t need his help, much less anything else, when I watch him close the gap between us. I nearly choke on my saliva, and I can feel my cheeks flush. He''s too close! So close I can smell cedar, sandalwood, and hints of something sweeter- like vanilla? My head swims for a moment, lost to the intoxicating, spicy sweetness until I remember my anger. Presently, it is the only thing keeping me grounded.


    Yet, even as I try and muster up the strength to hiss at him again, Adrian takes from my trembling hands the mortar and pestle, and I just let him. Why didn''t I stop him?! What the hell is wrong with me?!


    "If you intend on mixing lavender, thyme, and wood ash into an antiseptic paste, you were going about it incorrectly. In order to draw out the healing properties, you need to grind them like this." Adrian hasn''t moved away from me, and his proximity is entirely all-consuming. My head feels foggy, and I struggle to watch the way he moves.


    "See," he probes, snapping me from my stupor, "slow but firm- in tight little circles."


    I can''t help but stare at his hands, the way the muscles in his arms constrict, his long fingers- I''m transfixed, and I hate myself. Why do I even care?! Adrian finally moves to stand beside me, continuing to mix the ingredients together, eventually adding a touch of hot water and the wood ash until it makes a grayish paste. Then he moves away from me for but a moment, returning with a long white towel. I open my mouth to inquire what purpose it serves when he takes one end into his hand and begins ripping it into a continuous strip.


    "What are you doing?!" I yelp and take hold of his hands to cease his ministrations. I achieve the desired effect, and we both stop. Immediately I recoil and squirm beneath his questioning stare, "I-I just, I don''t wish for you to ruin one of your nice to-towels. I-I could have ju-just torn another piece of my shirt."


    That same stifling silence once more fills in the spaces between us, and I almost want to grumble to myself- I need to make up my mind whether I want Adrian to speak or not!


    An airy laugh has me focusing on the vampire''s angular features, surprised that he had chosen to snicker rather than snarl about how I''d touched him. Wasn''t I too low born? What sort of aristocrat was he?!


    "So, you''d prefer to be naked, rather than use a, as you put it, nice towel?"


    My eyes go so wide I worry that they might fall out of my skull.


    "N-NO!" I shriek, already imagining tearing into my clothes, eventually standing there in nothing but what was bestowed upon me at birth.


    Another chortle of laugher fills the room, and I fidget, "Anna, it''s just a towel." I respond with only a nod, knowing that if I open my mouth, something rather unbecoming will come out¡ªsomething like a squeak or a whimper. I refuse to be so, so pathetic!


    "Besides," he finally continues, his laughter quieting and I find myself stealing glances up at him through my hair, "Practically everything within the castle is either broken or in ruins. What is one more thing?" I turn my head and finally look up into that distant expression that I''ve seen before- the cold loneliness that Adrian radiates like a wall of ice. My heart aches, and I turn my face away as I begin gnawing my bottom lip. I want to say something. I yearn to tell him that he''s wrong, to plead with him to see the goodness and radiance he''s still capable of, but I don''t. Again my heart throbs as I remind myself that it isn''t my place.


    Silently we stand beside one another as he works. I don''t like the quiet now; I want it to be filled with his warm laughter again.


    Thankfully he finishes quickly, and we stare at one another, this time awkwardly. I''m the first to clear my throat, "Thank you for the bandages. I appreciate the help." I almost want to breathe a sigh of relief; Alucard will be leaving back to his room, and I can complete my treatment in peace.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    However, Adrian looks at me like he always does, and I feel myself shrinking beneath his gaze. "I-I can manage the rest. Thank you!" I try and leave no room for argument, yet I''m still thwarted. I know before he even opens that provocative mouth of his what he''s going to say.


    Please don''t say it!


    "Can you?" He challenges, and I feel myself deflate. "Surely you don''t expect to be able to bandage such a large wound by yourself without aggravating it further, do you?"


    Of course I do! Whether I''m successful or not is an entirely different question- one that he did not inquire of me.


    "I wa-was out in the wilds for more than a week. I-I have two young brothers w-who are constantly finding themselves battered and b-bruised. I-I think I''m more than capable of tending to my injury w-without having y-you s-see-" I trail off, unable to finish my excuse. We both know what I''m referring to.


    It doesn''t take Adrian but a moment to nod with understanding, but he doesn''t leave the kitchen still. I can already hear the prospective words I knew are brewing in his mouth even as I beg God that I''m wrong.


    "If you are uncomfortable, I''ll remain behind you. You can wrap the bandages around your torso, and I will aide you from where I stand. Once I''ve finished, I will pass the bandages back to you. This process will continue until you are bandaged."


    I hate the compromise. Not because it was asking much, in fact, it was very generous, but the fact remained: I''d still be shirtless in front of a man! A beautiful stranger that I don''t know! The room suddenly becomes unbearably hot, and I tug at my undershirt, missing the biting cold of the outside world.


    Why couldn''t I have been quieter?


    "I-I do-don''t know," I finally stammer, pleading with my mind to come up with something even remotely better. Anything will do! I can''t let him see me so exposed! It''s wrong, it''s immoral, it-it''s temptation at its purist. I just can''t!


    "If you have a better suggestion I-"


    "You could turn your back or ju-just leave the room!" I squeak, cradling myself so tightly my shoulders have begun to ache.


    "Anna," Adrian coos my name, and I feel my knees begin to tremble, my skin igniting in those same invisible flames. Oh God, he did hear my name!


    "I mean a realistic suggestion."


    We both know I don''t have one, and it''s evident by the way that I fidget beneath his searching golden eyes.


    "J-Just promise me-" I whimper, tearing my gaze away from his, fully aware that I can''t bring myself to stare into those fathomless pools when I ask my next question. "Promise me you won''t look."


    "You have my word," he replies without even a moment''s hesitation. While this should have been sufficient, I find myself only trembling harder. I know I have to do this for my wellbeing, but the glaring realization that I''ll be disrobing in front of a man I''m not married to or even remotely know unsettles me.


    I try to take a steadying breath but find it nearly impossible. All I want to do is shrivel up and die, to hide beneath a rock until I evaporate into nothingness. Yet, I don''t move. I''m still standing beside Adrian, clutching my shoulders. Fear and anxiety mix into a potent cocktail that fills me up entirely- I''m afraid that if I move, I''ll shatter into a million pieces.


    "I swear to God, if you so much as chance a peek, I''ll have your guts for garters!" My voice cracks, and I wince. I would have given anything at that moment to be intimidating.


    Adrian chuckles once but says nothing, and I sigh- I abhor being this anxious!


    With one last steadying breath, I turn around and face away from my host, clamping my eyes shut tightly as I pull my shirt over my head. It takes me painfully too long to fold the garment and place it gingerly down on the counter beside me, my body already trembling.


    We stand in utter silence for a long while as I try to collect myself. I can''t think straight though. I can feel Adrian''s eyes on my back; I can still smell the sweet spiciness of his skin and clothes. I even think I can feel his breath brush across my naked flesh. I want to whimper, I want to cry, but I resist. I force myself to collect all of my hair into one hand and have it hang over my right shoulder as I wait to find my courage.


    The sooner I get this done; I try to soothe, the sooner I can put on my undergarments and die of embarrassment.


    As I open my mouth to inquire if I can have the medicinal paste, I feel the cool stone resting against my fingertips. Idiotically, I chance a look over my shoulder to see my companion''s eyes fixated on the large window. Secretly I smile to myself as I take the mortar in hand and begin layering on the aromatic cream.


    I hiss every time my fingers gently apply the paste, already eager for the pain to subside and to crawl back into bed. Have these scratches always hurt this badly? I can not recall. Eventually, I push the thoughts from my head and focus on the task at hand.


    After I finish, I set down the empty container, still shivering violently despite the warmth that caresses my skin. I brace myself as I hear Adrian step closer. Defensively, I flinch, "D-Don''t look!"


    "I gave you my word that I wouldn''t look, Anna. I promise." His voice was so soothing, like a breath of cold air on a sweltering summer day or a drink of cold water in the desert. I could only nod and wait until I felt the bandage snake into my hand. We worked in quiet tandem, wrapping the long strip around my neck, under my arm, and then around the upper part of my torso.


    I would have been thankful for the silence, save for the fact that my heart was pounding again so loud that I worried I wasn''t the only one who could hear its frantic thumping. I watch, entranced, and nervous as Adrian''s long arms wait by my sides, always careful not to touch me. I find myself almost pining for the soft caress of his finger along my sides or the brush of arm across my shoulder.


    I flinched when realization dawns on me; on the ugly truth of where my thoughts have wandered. Warmth ignites beneath my cheeks and creeps down my neck. Something must be wrong with me! I flinch and wish that God will cast me into Hell this very second.


    "Did I hurt you?" I jump as Adrian''s voice caresses my ear, aware of the way I fidget beneath his gaze.


    "N-No, I was just thinking." I''m thankful when he doesn''t inquire further. What would I have said if he''d asked what crossed my mind? I don''t dwell on the thought long for fear that I''ll melt into a puddle of goo from the embarrassment.


    Thankfully the ordeal ends, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Mixed with my relief, even as to put my shirt back on, I find myself wanting. There inside of me, in my guts and my heart, is a twisting, churning, agonized wanting that I didn''t understand. It tugs and yanks so hard I almost gasp. I wanted it to stop. I beg my body to heed my pleas, but they fall on deaf ears, and I am left sitting there, craving for something I don''t know.


    As I sit there and stew, Adrian''s voice pulls me away- for once, I''m grateful to have him catch me off guard with that deep baritone, "You should keep those bandages on until the wound is sealed," he begins, and I''m hypnotized. "The herbs should help draw out any infection that may or may not have begun to grow in that wound. Be sure to change your bandages frequently, approximately four days and ensure you allow your injury to breathe for a few hours before you wrap it again."


    I can''t seem to find my voice, not even to udder a thank you, or that I''d remember his advice in the coming days. Nothing came out, and I wanted to kick myself. Instead, like the dunce that I am, I nod with a squeak and move away from Adrian to start cleaning up the mess I''ve made. It wouldn''t be right or even appropriate to leave it behind. Proper etiquette aside, cleaning will help me clear my head- that''s something I desperately need.


    With a small glimmer of hope that tidying the kitchen will provide, I reach out for the kettle, intent on scrubbing it until it glitters. As my fingers wrap around the handle, I stop when long, pale fingers rest across my knuckles. Almost immediately, I draw my hand back. Now what?!


    I stare up into Adrian''s golden eyes; his expression concerned as he too draws his hand back. We stand there but a moment before he speaks.


    "I had not intended to startle you again, Anna, but please," I can''t seem to catch my breath, and my heart hasn''t ceased its frantic staccato-like rhythm. I just want to disappear.


    "Allow me to clean up. We just tended to your wounds, and the last thing that you need is to strain yourself. Return to your room; I can manage the mess."


    Frozen, I remain completely silent but nod, unaware that I''ve begun gnawing on the tender flesh of my cheek until I taste blood. I spare a look around the mess I''ve made, and I feel myself cringe inwardly- it doesn''t seem right to allow my host to clean up after me. As I open my mouth to finally rebuttal, Adrian lifts his hand, "Please, allow me."


    I still want to argue, to plea with him, to allow me to help in some small way, but Adrian simply shakes his head and begins going about cleaning. Reluctantly, I collect my mug of hot water and small pouch of yarrow, moving quickly to make my retreat. Just as I reach the doorway I''d come through only a few minutes ago, I stop to linger. Words weigh on my tongue, heavy and suffocating- if I don''t say them, I''ll choke.


    "T-Thank you, Adrian, f-for all of your help. Tha-thank you." I don''t dare glance back; I know that if I do, that odd tugging and twisting will return.


    Just as I push the door open and begin to leave again, I hear, "You''re welcome, Anna."


    I return to my room as quickly as my feet will carry me, being mindful not to spill a drop of the hot water on the way. All I want to do is drink my tea and go to sleep. I want this day to end- I''m frazzled, and my body feels raw.


    When I step back through the threshold and close the door behind me with a loud bang, I sigh. I stay there tightly pressed against the cold wood surface, piecing the night''s events together in my head. The puzzle assembles in my memory, yet even when I look at the full image, all of the moving bits, I stare dumbfounded.


    Nothing makes sense, and I feel the urge to pace, to over-analyze everything until the fragmented parts come into crystal clear focus.


    I don''t, though, not yet. I drop the bag of yarrow into my mug and let it steep before I start pacing, my mind racing faster than my heart. However, no matter how hard I force snippets of our conversation or the memories of our interaction to snap together, I''m still lost.


    Why do I feel so exposed? Why do I feel- I don''t know. I can''t describe these emotions, and it scares me. What is wrong with me?


    When I finally bring the edge of the mug to my lips and take a sip of my tea, I immediately want to spit it out; it''s so bitter! Wordlessly I look down into the steaming water and cringe- I hate bitter foods, but I know I have to drink the tea down. If I don''t, I sigh and touch the bandages at my neck softly; I''ll just keep hurting.


    With a whine and a deep breath, I drink the contents. When I finish, I shiver, coughing, and wishing I had something sweet to wash the bitter aftertaste out of my mouth. Sadly, I don''t, so I resign myself to padding over to the large bed. This time, as I draw myself up onto the soft mattress, I pull back the duvet and sheets. I slip beneath the heavy folds and let them fall around me until I''m swallowed up. It doesn''t take long for the warmth to penetrate every inch of me, and I sigh- pleading that sleep will begin tugging at my eyelids soon.


    It doesn''t.


    I lay there in the dark for what seems like an eternity, the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and my gasping breath my only company. My mind still tries to piece together the events that transpired in the kitchen, the sudden change in Adrian. As if to clear the fog, I touch the bandages at my throat again, carefully running my fingers over the textured fabric. I''d wrapped Timothy''s knee when he was younger, but never like this, never so- I couldn''t think of the word.


    Fire begins to roar inside of me, a fire that I don''t know how to control. Damn that beautiful, infuriating man! The fire is his fault! If he hadn''t come down into the kitchen, if he hadn''t helped me, I knew this roaring inferno wouldn''t be consuming me from the inside out. I huff and turn onto my side, still fingering the linen bandages, mumbling to myself.


    I''m still lost, still angry with myself and Adrian, but mostly with how I don''t understand why his change in demeanor! One minute he''s gnashing his teeth at me, threatening to extinguish my life and the next- he''s tender, he''s caring and compassionate.


    I continued to lay in the dark, listening to the soft groans and creaks of the castle.


    Flipping onto my back again, I stare up at the familiar canopy and sigh, finally feeling the first tugs at the edge of my consciousness. Sleep isn''t far off, and I''m grateful. As I settle in, my heart clenches and my mind idly wanders back to the ethereal man with his golden hair and eyes. I still can''t quite grasp why Adrian''s personality gives me whiplash- why one moment he is the embodiment of cruelty, and the next, he''s tender and gentlemanly.


    I''m spellbound to these thoughts even as sleep drags me down into the churning blackness. For the first time since leaving home, I feel safe.

 Episode 11- Fire in the Ice

    I was aware of my surroundings before I had even fully woken up. I heard from my twilight state the faint rustle of my bedding as I curled up tighter against my pillow, the warmth that comforted me like a mother''s loving touch, and the smell of spices and sweet vanilla.


    I could have stayed there forever, wrapped nice and cozy, while the world around me faded into background noise. I almost did, but a voice in the back of my mind told me I should wake.


    When I chanced a blurry peek through my lashes, I sighed at the sight of warm sunlight gently filling my room. It was morning. I moaned to myself as I felt my insides clench with a sense of loss- the castle, my journey, Adrian, all of it would seem like a wild fever dream when I returned home. As I lay there, reluctant to tear myself away from my bed''s warm embrace, I decided that my encounter with the ''creature'' would have to be entirely fabricated. No one would believe that a man lived here alone. They would assume I was bewitched.


    With another huff, I finally flip over onto my back, already my fingers searching out the coarse linen bandages at my throat to drum up the memory of the angel-faced man. I don''t want to leave, I think, and finally decide to sit, casting my eyes towards the tall window again. I know that once I turn away from Castle Dracula, I''ll never see it again.


    Why do I care?


    Already I''m wrestling with myself, with that same tugging of my insides. It''s too early to feel this way! I haven''t even woken up entirely! Despite this, I want to find a knife and cut it out of me. I want to throw the ache across the room and glare at it. I can''t, though. I know if I do, a part of me will be missing, an important piece.


    I''m lost to my thoughts, to my frustration when that same chilly realization I''ve felt before trickles down my spine and shakes me awake. "What time is it?!" I shriek and leap out of bed so fast my head''s spinning. I don''t let it stop me. I''m behind schedule, so far behind that, I wonder if I can even find a warm place to bed down for the coming night.


    Damn it! Why didn''t Adrian wake me?!


    As quickly as I can without further injury, I shimmy into my breeches and my tunic, already reciting the speech I''m preparing.


    First, I think as I struggle into my boots, I''m going to demand why he didn''t wake me. It seems like a logical first step, so I make it mine. My mind attempts to duplicate Adrian''s particular way of speaking and his mannerisms, but it falls short, and I''m left with a ridiculous imitation. I almost laugh at how abysmal the caricature is, but remember that I''m livid! He didn''t wake me, and because he didn''t, I''ve wasted valuable daylight! With a huff, I continue along with our imaginary conversation, assuming the beautiful man will say he simply allowed time to get away from him as such a construct doesn''t exist for immortals. My blood is already at a roaring boil, and this conversation which will never come to fruition ignites my fury hotter. I may be only human, but Adrian was going to get a piece of my mind!


    With my boots now laced tightly around my calves, I swing open the door like a woman possessed and make my way out into the hallway. I didn''t make it five steps out from my door before a clatter fills my ears.


    "What in the-" I hiss beneath my breath, stilling myself, the air in my lungs burning to escape as I waited for a secondary crash. It takes perhaps a handful of seconds before more faint banging causes me to swivel my head in the supposed direction- was that coming from the kitchen? I waited just a moment more before I decided that if it wasn''t, Adrian could not hold me at fault for investigating. After all, he''d been murderous when I had had a purpose; I could only imagine if an intruder was the source of the commotion, Adrian would have another corpse for his garden. Without thinking too much more, I pivot on my heels and dash down the stairs, taking them two at a time; if the cause of the noise was, in fact, Adrian, I''d have a few choice words for that spoiled, cranky vampire!


    I''m standing in the long stretch of hallway on the ground floor, frozen again in place but due to a heavenly scent wafting through the air. My stomach growls monstrously, immediately aware of the perfume that hangs around me; it''s breakfast!


    I''m hungry, famished even, but I don''t allow my hunger to cloud my rage. "That short-sighted, foul-tempered, beautiful-" I grumble to myself as I march forward, stopping just before the door, "Adrian! What in the-"


    It''s all that comes out of my mouth before it snaps shut, and I see that my anger is wholly misplaced.


    Breakfast had been made, but it hadn''t been solely for Adrian. There are two place settings like there had been the night before with dinner, one at the head of the table and the other at his side.


    It takes my eyes but a moment to flick from the table setting to my host, who stands in a pair of fitted ebony breeches, tall black boots with golden filigree trim, and a white undershirt. His shoulder-length hair catches the light and ignites his head in a halo- he looks like an effigy of desire. God in heaven, the man is too lovely, and my breath is stolen from between my lips as my tithe.


    Maybe a dip in a chilly river would do me good- it might clear my head! Adrian does things that I can''t describe, and while I want to hate myself, I hunger for more.


    Ashamed of myself for gawking so unashamedly and my wicked thoughts, I force myself to stare at the black and white tiled floor below me. Quietly, I count the sparkling dust particles that lazily float through the air, desperate to divert my attention to anything else.


    I can''t catch my breath.


    "I believe you had something to say to me," Adrian''s sultry baritone immediately makes me aware that he''s here and that I''m too warm. I can''t look at him, I think, and gnaw at the corner of my mouth, painfully present in this moment.


    "N-no, I wasn''t-" I begin to lie but decide that we both know it''s convincing no one. We stand there in silence, the sound of sizzling food the only thing that fills my ears.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Finally, I muster the courage to ask a question I already know the answer to, "S-so, what are you doing?" I almost want to roll my eyes. Really, that was the best I could come up with?!


    "I thought that it was fairly obvious; I''m preparing breakfast."


    Of course he is! "Adrian, I have eyes; I can see this. I just mean-" my frustration returns, but I force my lungs to fill with a deep inhale, "why are you preparing two places? You were supposed to wake me at first light so that I could leave. I do not intend to sound ungrateful for the last few hours of sleep, but I''ve lost daylight."


    I don''t realize that I''m fidgeting with my bandages again, at least until the scent that I know belongs to Adrian slams into my senses. He''s there again, too close for comfort, his eyes trained on my fingers."You should stop touching your bandages, Anna." My hand immediately snaps away from my neck; instead it collects a lock of my hair, anxiously stroking the silky clump.


    "I''m aware that you''ve lost daylight; however, it doesn''t matter."


    His words immediately sober my nerves, and I stare up into his face defiantly, preparing another barbed insult, "What do you mean it doesn''t matter?"


    We stare at each other, neither one of us moving. Finally, Adrian turns from me, and I glower after him, my heart thundering in my ears, fear now potent in my blood.


    "You won''t be leaving anytime soon," Adrian remarks dryly, his attention refocused on the frying pan, which he takes off the heat and scrapes onto the two plates.


    "I-I do-don''t understand," I shake my head, praying that the kindly vampire I''d seen only as a man, isn''t preparing to lock me up as his new plaything.


    Adrian sighs and instead places the dirty frying pan into the deep basin at his back then moves to fill two mugs with a warm amber liquid. Once finished, he silently sits at the head of the table and takes up his silverware before he continues, "I understand you have a mind to return to your village and alert the people you found Katherine in a state of-"


    "You know her name?" I cut in so quickly my skin tingling with white-hot needles, the hint of disgust in my voice apparent.


    Adrian snickers once with a grin before he resumes speaking, "Yes, Anna, I knew her name. It matters little as she''s no more than a corpse now in my, as you call it, garden. As I was saying, however, I understand that you wish to return home, but you won''t make it in your current state."


    "I survived out in the cold with all the beasties for a week. I''ll be fine." I reply childishly, trying to prove that I''m capable, that I''m strong.


    Adrian quirks a brow before he places his fork down and steeples his fingers, his eyes boring holes straight through to my soul, "That may be true, but when you made the journey before, you weren''t injured. Anna, your injury will kill you before the cold does, and this entire quest will be wasted."


    I try and open my mouth to argue, but my words fall short when Adrian continues, "If you were to leave now, the cold air would dry out that wound of yours, causing it to crack open further. When this happens, any amount of healing your body has completed would be for naught, and you would be at square one again. The flesh on your neck and chest will become infected, necrotic, or both. You would die before even making it halfway home."


    My insides twist, and I feel sick like I''m going to wretch, but I don''t, and I''m only left with an agonized churning. While he hasn''t said it outright, I know Adrian sees me as weak. I''m embarrassed and ashamed of my human nature despite knowing that there is nothing I can do to change it. I begin to fidget uncomfortably beneath his gaze, my tongue burning to convince him that I''m anything but weak. I don''t know why I care, but I do. I want to impress him.


    As I start to open my mouth to plead my case, that hypnotic voice floats through the air, caressing down my neck and back with silky fingers, soothing my inner turmoil. It whispers to me, and I begin to shiver with delight.


    "I realize that returning home for your family''s sake is important to you, Anna, but being foolish will ensure you never see them again. Stay here until the weather improves. Once the temperatures rise, then you can safely make the return trip."


    I remain quiet for some time, mulling over all of what''s been said. I still want to argue, to insist that I''ll be fine, but there is reason in Adrian''s words. I decide to let any repose that I''ve begun melt on my tongue. What could I possibly say that would convince us both that I''m capable, that I''m durable despite my disadvantage- my mortality? Absolutely nothing, and we both know it.


    Swallowing my pride, I sigh and nod my head, "Fine, but just until the weather warms." How long will that be, though? The winters in Wallachia are unforgiving, and it could be weeks before the snow finally stops; but isn''t this what I wanted? To stay within this fantasy, to spend more time with Adrian?


    I''m torn between what my warring mind and heart want by that same sultry, rich voice I''ve come to adore.


    "Until then," the fair-haired man pauses, and I move to take my place beside him, curiosity causing me to itch to know what he''s about to say. Quietly, I wait with bated breath, looking at Adrian''s beautiful, angular profile. "I-" he resumes before stopping a second time, and I''m left pleading silently for him to finish, "I want to extend my deepest apologies."


    Wait, what? Did I just hear him correctly, or am I dreaming?


    In the short time I''ve known him, I can''t actively recall a single instance where he''s said something similar. Why is he apologizing? I stare down at my host, my heart noisily banging against my ribs as I search for a reply.


    "W-what for?" I finally question, trying to sound disinterested but wince inwardly when my voice cracks.


    "For last night," Adrian replies, his face flicking up to mine, causing me to gasp and my cheeks to ignite.


    No, I immediately think, feeling my lungs seize in my chest, stop looking at me like that! Please, God, I can''t hold his gaze!


    The room has suddenly grown hotter, and I''m thankful that I''m not in my heavy woolen cloak. I want to run out of Castle Dracula and jump into the snow- naked. It would help, and it would be better than the sweltering heat that begins to choke me.


    "I allowed myself to think the worst of you. To, as you said, fit you into a skewed mold of a person. You were simply trying to tend to your injuries, and I assumed you were attempting to deceive me. I am sorry."


    Silence.


    What do I even say? He''s forgiven, of course he is, but I can''t bring myself to utter a single word. For a moment, I wonder if I''m actually comatose- if I never woke up. To ensure I''m here, present in this moment, I bite down roughly on my bottom lip. Pain shoots through my face, and I know for certainty that nope, I''m definitely not dreaming.


    "Yo-you''re forgiven, Adrian," I mumble, fingers mindlessly beginning to pick at the frayed ends of my tunic anxiously. I''m left standing their, dumbstruck. For a brief moment, I forget how to function- how do I breathe, how do I human? I don''t have to wonder long when that same anchoring voice, the voice that I''ve come to crave, fills my ears.


    "Now, are you going to continue standing there attempting to impersonate a statue, or do you intend to sit and eat with me finally?" Again my cheeks ignite when I realize I''ve been motionless for far longer than was appropriate. God damnit, what is this man doing to me?! Quickly I yank out my chair away from the table and sink into the seat. Quietly, I begin filling my mouth with food; if I''m chewing, then I can''t speak. Anything is better than trying to have a conversation where I stutter and fidget.


    Yet even as I slow and mindfully chew, I''m continuously drawn to looking up at Adrian. Something is different about him. The man that I met the previous day seemed so cold and unreachable- like he was on the moon. Now, there is a slight warmth that seems to radiate from within him; it''s small, and it''s fragile, but it''s there. Whatever it is, this change, I cherish it.

 Episode 12- House of Hope

    Time didn''t seem to exist in Castle Dracula. Minutes easily ticked by into hours, hours turned into days, and before long, days melted into weeks.


    I had lived with my siblings and father for so long; residing with another person seemed natural, but this experience, however, was new and awkward. I was living with a man, a man who I wasn''t married to, and one I couldn''t stop admiring. He was the epitome of beauty. Great artists could attempt to capture Adrian''s ethereal loveliness, but their works would fall disgustingly short. The desire to immortalize his beauty was still there, though. I was no master of the arts; ink or brush, so settled for stealing glances at him from time to time in the hopes I could commit every detail of his face to memory. I still don''t like to admit that he affects me, but he does. He''s nothing like what I''ve ever encountered, and like a moth to a flame, I''m mesmerized.


    The first few days, cohabiting were the worst. Every day we would eat together quietly. Our conversations usually consisted of very topical quires that would quickly lead us to a dead end. I was always at a loss for words with Adrian- rejection and anxiety constantly a driving force. His voice was like a drug- if I didn''t get my fix, I''d go mad. Eventually, I began pondering the night before what we might discuss. Maybe art, stories of the world, music perhaps? Yet, no matter how many times I cataloged a list of conversations starters, whenever I sat down beside Adrian to share a meal, my mind would empty.


    It did get easier; our conversation almost became second nature. Well, at least when he wasn''t tending to my wound. Like the first time when he had helped, I''d clam up and feel my temperature rise. Every four days, like clockwork, Adrian would help remove the soiled bandages and place them into a pot of boiling water to sanitize them before hanging them to dry.


    Most times, I couldn''t bear to look at the vampire due to my embarrassment; after all, I remained shirtless. What point would there have been to don my undershirt, only to take it off again when the bandages dried? Little, honestly. Every time Adrian assisted in my wound care, he made it abundantly clear that moving about might cause adverse side effects, so I didn''t. As much as I desired not to be partially undressed in front of a man I didn''t know from Adam, I wasn''t keen on disturbing the healing injury either. Taking the lesser of two evils, and muscling my way through my discomfort seemed the best course.


    One late afternoon, while I sat beside my window, watching the snow still falling lazily, I let my mind wander. It had continued to snow these last few weeks, sometimes even despite the sun reflecting off the glittering flakes. Would it ever stop? Softly, I sigh and rest my head against the stones at my back, wondering about home, about my siblings and my father.


    Father, I''m confident, was grief-stricken as he imagined the worst- that I had befallen the same fate as the hired hunters and Katherine. "I miss you," I whispered to the foggy glass, feeling my heartache in such a way that had me gasping. I wanted to go home, to hear the twins singing again, to feel father''s warm hand encircle mine, but yet a part of me didn''t want to leave. Not yet, at least- something kept me rooted here, something I still didn''t understand.


    I was content to daydream about my family for the remainder of the day, lounging on the windowsill like a cat, at least until a soft knock at my door caused me to shift. "Come in," I cooed, already feeling the corners of my mouth tug upwards, my body fully aware of who it was seeking entry. I quickly turn my gaze from the window to watch the door swing open, my heart already doing little somersaults in my chest when I drink in Adrian''s stately visage.


    He''s dressed as he always is- in fitted breeches, a crisp white shirt, and fine leather boots. I resist the urge to sigh longingly, swallowing it down even as he speaks.


    "Good afternoon, Anna," the deep baritone caresses my ears, and I stave off my urge to shiver, delighting only in the way my skin prickles at hearing my name spoken from his mouth.


    "Good afternoon, Adrian," I reply effortlessly, unable to resist the aching tug on my lips that splits them into a welcoming grin, "Something I can help you with?"


    I genuinely don''t know what he wants- often, I am left to my own devices, which consists of very little. My mind already races with a hundred million possibilities, and my mouth goes suddenly dry- why would he come to see me?


    I don''t have to wonder long when Adrian steps just barely into the room, "No, nothing. I thought that a stroll through the castle might be advantageous to us both- you''ll be more freely able to wander at your heart''s leisure. After all, you''re not a caged bird."


    A part of me, the part that I try and keep locked away inside my mind wants to tell him I don''t mind being a caged bird, at least so long as he''s the only one I sing sweetly for. I nearly snort at the girlish way my mind begs me to repeat my innermost words. Quickly, I hoist myself up onto my booted feet and cross the room so that I''m standing beside Adrian, looking up into his handsome face "So, you''re offering to give me the grand tour?"


    Adrian barks with a dry chuckle before responding, "I would hardly say grand, but yes, would you like a tour?"


    Who wouldn''t?!


    "I would adore one, thank you."


    His response is a quick nod. I want more, a smile or even a chuckle, something, but the simple reply is better than nothing. I''m content.


    Our tour begins, and I learn quickly there are already a handful of rooms that I''m never permitted to enter under any circumstances. I don''t need to inquire as Adrian states that the rooms have become too dilapidated to be safe. We move past them, eventually coming to a room deeper in the heart of the castle, a place that looks as if it''s made of melting wax. Everywhere I look, every surface appears warped- I stand in awe.


    What''s happened here?


    "It didn''t always look like this," Adrian remarks behind me, making me aware that I''ve moved away from his side. I root myself and watch over my shoulder, waiting patiently until the beautiful man stops at my side. I force myself to look around, to take in every broken wall, melted trace of metal, and shimmering piece of shattered glass.


    "It looks like a battle was fought here."


    Adrian doesn''t reply immediately; his golden eyes observe the room in a colder, more clinical way.


    "That''s because there was."


    I sputter for a moment and then shake my surprise away, feeling the emotion too coarse for this moment. I need to tread carefully.


    "Between who?"


    "Between my father and I."


    "Why?" I finally manage after moving away from Adrian, away from the intoxicating hint of sweet vanilla, musky sandalwood, and cedar.


    "Because my father intended to not just punish Wallachia for my mother''s death but all of humankind. He said there was no more innocence left. I could not allow the blind genocide of humankind."


    I had never known the reason why Dracula''s hordes of night creatures came, at least not until now. Despite the twisted motive, I could imagine how the mad Count felt he had been justified- not a single soul had stood up for his wife. Dracula had been hurting, and while I had never lost someone I loved in even a similar fashion, I understood his pain or, I thought, I did.


    The conversation had taken on a far heavier note than I would have liked, but this was just the nature of the castle. Everywhere I looked, in darkened corners and in hidden rooms, everything was steeped in ageless sorrow. It existed, tangible and breathing like a wailing beast that lamented for pain both new and timeless.


    I wanted to say something, anything to lighten the mood, but it felt wrong. No matter how I wanted to behold the light I''d seen Adrian capable of radiating, I wasn''t selfish enough to try and draw him away from his suffering. Anything other than silence would have seemed inappropriate.


    The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, and before I knew, I found myself looking up into the heavy draping canopy above my head, wondering where the hours had gone. Time slipped through the hourglass so easily that I questioned if it was just this castle, or maybe, Adrian was the source? I didn''t ponder long before sleep claimed me, and I fell into another dreamless night of rest.


    Morning came again, and it followed along the same path that the previous day had- I awoke, I washed myself and then dressed quickly. Adrian would be in the kitchen, and despite having only seen him a few hours ago, my skin itched to be in his presence. My heart thumped wildly as I drew ever closer until I walked through the doorway and into the familiar kitchen. Just as I knew I would, I found Adrian, standing motionless at the stove, quietly cooking. I could have stared at his profile until the end of time.


    "Good morrow, Adrian," I sigh groggily, finally willing myself to speak as I move about the kitchen to collect our place settings and mugs.


    "Good morrow, Anna. I trust you slept undisturbed?" It was always the same question- this was our routine. I liked it.


    "I didn''t dream, no."


    Adrian nodded once before he continued, "I thought after breakfast, we might continue our tour of the castle. If you have nothing planned for today?"


    There was a hint of something in the vampire''s voice that had me tingling all over; had that been excitement in his voice? I didn''t let myself ruminate long. Of course, I had nothing to do! Even if I had, whatever Adrian had planned took immediate precedence.


    "Nothing that I''m aware of," I feign indifference, "What part of the castle will I be privy to today?"


    "I thought we''d begin in the dungeons. I think it would be beneficial if you saw what you narrowly avoided. Not many mortals can boast that they''ve seen the inner machinations of said room and lived to tell about it."


    "T-the dungeon?!" I squeaked, my heart having leapt into my throat, hands already trembling at the horrors that likely await me.


    Why the bloody dungeon?! I want to ask why we had to begin there of all places! As I steel myself and drum up every bit of courage I posses, my lips snap shut the moment a soft chortle of laughter fills my ears.


    "You''re far too easy to rile up, Anna. It''s almost fun."


    I''m going to kill him!


    "You think you''re so clever, don''t you?" I hiss in mock annoyance, marching to stand at his side, glaring challengingly up into his eyes- preparing for another bout of verbal jousting.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Just wait! You won''t be the one laughing when I put ink in your porridge, and your teeth turn as black as your sense of humor!"


    "That would imply you''d be able to sneak out of your room, making it downstairs and cook without making so much as a whisper. If memory serves, that last time you tried, it didn''t end quite the way you had anticipated. Did it?"


    While I certainly didn''t hate the man, I could say that I didn''t like him at present.


    "I will have my revenge Adrian, just you wait!" Again, the vampire laughs, and while I try and conceal my amusement, I find that I''m smiling- his laughter is infectious.


    When the laughter dies down, I sigh and flick my hair over my shoulder, finally moving away from Adrian, filling the mugs with chilly water, "So, since you aren''t going to take me into the infamous dungeon, where do you plan on taking us?"


    Adrian says nothing as he moves over to the table where he fills our plates before retreating to the basin, where he deposits the soiled cookware. He sits down, looks to me, and waits.


    Is he deaf or playing dumb- either option isn''t flattering.


    "Do you intend to keep me in suspense, or did you not hear me? What are you going to show me?"


    He sighs heavily, the corners of his lips still turned up into a mischievous grin, "Are you going to come sit, or would you prefer to stand while you eat? I don''t recommend the latter, but that is your choice."


    Stubbornness tells me to remain standing where I am in a show of unbridled defiance. I absolutely refuse to let him win this bout!


    "Are you going to divulge where you plan on taking me?"


    "No, you''ll have to wait until after breakfast to see."


    Wait, was he being serious?


    "You''re joking," I quip annoyed, feeling my curiosity scratching at the inside of my skull like a rabid beast.


    Adrian shakes his head slowly, his golden eyes never leaving me as I stand stupefied, "You will simply have to remain patient and wait."


    Yep, I''m going to put ink in his food the next time I get the opportunity!


    Defiantly, I remain rooted in place, watching Adrian as he watches me- both of us waiting to see who breaks first. I tell myself that I''m strong enough to resist the urge to sit, to eat my breakfast and agree through my actions that he''s won.


    I''m stronger than he gives me credit for!


    However, as the heavenly scent of warm food fills my nose, I feel my will beginning to crumble.


    No, I can''t give up! I have to remain strong!


    Clenching my fists, I glare down the spoiled little vampire until my stomach alerts us both that it''s empty and that it has made the utilitarian decision to concede defeat. Immediately, my ears ignite with invisible fire that slowly bleeds down into my face and chest- damn that man!


    With a grumble beneath my breath, I slide the chair out beside Adrian and plop down with a huff. "I hope you realize that if not for my stomach lobbying for food, I would have remained fixed in place, and I would have won."


    Adrian laughs and shakes his head, "We both know that that wouldn''t have happened, Anna. It isn''t very becoming of you to lie."


    "Lie?!" I yelp, jabbing a finger at him, "I''ll have you know I have not lied to you once, thank you very much!"


    Reluctantly, I spoon some of the food into my mouth, peeking up to see that my host is grinning to himself impishly.


    He''s so proud of himself.


    After swallowing the bit of food in my mouth, I decide that if I can''t win by my force of will, I''ll make him divulge the answer through his actions.


    I can do this!


    "Are you taking me to a study?" Adrian stops chewing to quirk one of his manicured brows at me, perhaps blindsided by my question.


    He swallows first before he replies, "No, Anna," he returns just as quickly, tearing from me a grumble.


    "Then, the armory?" A snort of laughter but no reply. Damn it!


    "Some secret garden you''ve got tucked away under the castle? O-Or maybe a ballroom?" Still, nothing!


    "For the love of God, Adrian! Where are you taking me?!


    Finally, Adrian ceases eating and locks eyes with me, and I feel myself wither beneath his gaze. God in heaven, the man is going to give me heart failure.


    "You will have to wait and see. Anticipation never killed anyone, Anna. I''m certain you can reign in your curiosity and be patient."


    I''m irritated, desperately curious, but I''m hungry, and that beats out everything. Damn it all! I grumble for a third time and begin eating, resigning that none of my tactics are going to work. If I want to find out where Adrian intends on taking us, then the sooner I finish breakfast, the sooner I can learn firsthand.


    We continue our breakfast in silence, me stewing, and my companion so pleased with himself the room feels like it''s on fire while he grins devilishly. Cheeky bastard.


    When we finally finish a small eternity later, and much to neither of our surprise, I''m the first to jump to my feet. I''m ready to find out this mysterious room- come hell or high water! I start speedily collecting the dirty dishes and move quickly over to the basin, which I fill up. I dare not look back over my shoulder at Adrian- I can already imagine the look that he''s giving me, but I don''t care. I want to know what surprise he has waiting in the wing! I hate surprises!


    By the time I finish washing the dishes, the front of my tunic is soaked. Who needs dry clothes?! Certainly not me!


    "Okay," I yelp, rushing towards the kitchen door, wiping my wet hands across the front of my breeches, nearly slipping a handful of times, "let''s go!"


    Adrian snorts as I see his eyes looking over my damp clothes and the soap bubbles that still cling to my cheek and in my hair. Thankfully, he says nothing but, "Follow me."


    I practically skip after him, eyes wide with excitement as we pass doorway after doorway and down endless corridors. I''m starting to get antsy- maybe we were going to go to the dungeon! My curiosity has grown so ravenous that I worry I''ll go mad.


    By the time we stop before a set of heavy double doors, I''m practically panting and foaming at the mouth. What could be behind those doors? A treasure room? A parlor filled with instruments- all of which Adrian can play to produce haunting melodies he knows by heart? I can''t take it anymore!


    My pulse is racing so fast that I wonder if its going to stop mid beat! God in heaven, just open the door!


    As if hearing my silent plea, Adrian takes the brass doorknobs and turns them, giving them a soft push. They swing open, and I am nearly blinded by warm sunlight filling every space.


    Painfully, I blink my eyes until they adjust to the startling brightness, focusing until I realize the room to be a library.


    My breath is stolen from between my lips as I step past Adrian and into the warmth- allowing myself to be swept up by all of the sensations assaulting me. The air is sweet and crisp- like fresh paper, clean linens, and sunlight. There is a peacefulness that blankets the room in a serenity I didn''t think could exist. Most of all, there is light. Every corner, every inch, is bathed in this brilliance. It''s like a spirit exists only in this room- it''s warm, and it''s beautiful, and it reminds me of my mother.


    "This," Adrian breathes as he moves past me, illuminated by the soft glow from the tall windows, igniting his golden hair into a flaming halo "is my favorite room in the castle."


    I spin around in a slow circle, drinking in everything. Since the moment I had arrived, Castle Dracula had been naught but darkness with a cold loneliness that crept into my bones and made me feel numb. This place, this room filled with hundreds of thousands of books, it''s like the only living part of this castle. Silently I wander over to one of the many shelves and run my fingers along a long leather spine, shivering in pure euphoric bliss.


    "Why this room?" I question, studying the golden letters, trying to understand the words written, already hoping that the feelings the room invokes in me are mirrored in Adrian.


    "It''s the peace and quiet," he comments softly, coming to stand beside me, his fingers running along the spine of another book. "I come here often when I needed to think. This room is filled with memories-" Adrian pauses, his voice growing distant before he continues, "memories of my mother. Days filled with her reading to me her favorite stories and spinning fantastical tales that any child could envision being apart of."


    I could imagine the fair-haired boy running up to his mother and tugging on her skirts, begging her to read him the book he has clutched in his arms. My reverie is quieted when I realize that I''m almost wheezing. There, in the pit of my heart, is a pain that I know. It clenches and tears at the tender flesh- almost agonizing enough to rend a sob from my lips.


    It''s loss. It''s the memory of something precious lost to death. It''s remembering what it''s like to have taken a moment for granted and wishing to live in that dream again- even for just a second.


    It takes every ounce of strength I posses to resist the urge to cry. I don''t, despite the burning in my eyes or the tightness of my throat- tears won''t help.


    "Some of my fondest memories," Adrian begins again, extracting a book from beside my hand, "is of her reading this." Carefully, he hands the book over to me, and I run my palm over the smooth cover, wishing I could read the printed title.


    "The Divine Comedy has always been my favorite. I can recall sitting beside her, begging her to read it to me before I even knew how. I didn''t understand the story when I was a child, but hearing my mother''s voice always lulled me to sleep."


    A snicker slips past my lips as a memory of the twins fills my head. "Something amusing?"


    I shake my head slowly, "No, just a memory of mine that I was recalling."


    Adrian gives me a sidelong glance, and I sigh, relenting.


    "When my twin brothers were littler, they would often have me tell them stories before bed. They loved hearing about a fair princess trapped in tall towers and brave knights coming to whisk her away on his gallant steed. Or of a mischievous boy who climbed a bean-stock to steal a goose who laid golden eggs. Their favorite story, however, was always about the scorpion and the swan." I pause only long enough to turn and regard Adrian, admiring the way his eyes glitter with intrigue.


    "They usually never made it past the moral of the story before they slept, but it was always the one story that I remember telling them the most."


    "And what''s the moral, Anna?"


    "My mother always said that it was to trust your instincts. I''ve heard others say the story teaches that vicious people often can''t resist hurting others, even when it might be within their interest not to."


    "Which do you believe?" Adrian''s voice seems to have dropped the light-hearted tone- worry begins to set in.


    "I believe the story''s moral is about trusting your instinct. If I hadn''t, I wouldn''t have believed you weren''t a monster."


    Neither one of us speaks for some time. Quietly, I begin to fret if I''ve said something to upset the ethereal man. Anxiously I chew on the inside of my cheek as Adrian allows his gaze to shift to the book in my hands.


    I don''t like this silence, it''s suffocating, and my fingers itch to reach out and touch him, to feel the silken locks of his hair. I want to drown in his cologne and grow drunk off of the taste of his lips. I turn away from him, feeling my cheeks blaze with heat.


    I have to change the subject; I have to distract Adrian from the way my heart thunders in my ears, the way my skin feels feverish to the touch, and the way my head spins.


    Quickly, I clear my throat, feeling like the silence has gone on for far too long, "S-So tell me about this book," I finally muster, flipping through a handful of the pages, "I-I''ve never heard about it."


    Adrian seems to wake from his pondering, stepping closer into me so that he can flip through a few of the pages.


    He''s too close again! I didn''t anticipate that he''d actually hear my unspoken desire. God, I can''t think!


    "The entire book is something to behold. It is a poem about a man''s trip through the afterlife, which is told in three parts: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso. It''s something everyone should read at least once- I''ve read it so many times I''ve lost count."


    I forget briefly Adrian''s proximity as I look down at the black text beneath his fingers, wondering idly what the words say. "Do you have a favorite part?"


    Adrian nods with a gentle smile cresting his provocative lips, "There are many, but my favorite is this one," he purrs as he thumbs through the book before placing his slender finger beneath a sentence.


    We stand there in silence again, but this time, because of me. Anxiously I glare at the words, willing them to form into something I can understand. Nothing ever comes, and it takes but a breath for Adrian to question my silence.


    "Something the matter?" He asks, and I feel myself crumbling from my shame. I don''t want to answer, but if I don''t, he''ll assume the worst of me.


    "I-" stammering, clenching my fist tightly, willing myself to say the next words, "I can''t read."


    Another long pause blooms between us. I move away from where I stand- I can''t be that close to Adrian. I''m not worthy to stand beside someone who is my better a hundred times over.


    The room remains a cemetery for a long time before the golden-haired man clears his throat, "Then, perhaps I might teach you."


    Shame ignites in my blood so hot that I feel like I''m melting- I hate it, and I start to shake my head on instinct, "I don''t think that''s a wise decision."


    "And why is that Anna?"


    Why does he have to pry? Why can''t he just accept that I''m hiding my shame?


    "Because," I stammer, gritting my teeth before answering, "there isn''t enough time before I leave. It would take a lifetime for me to learn to even read one sentence."


    The expression Adrian gives me instantly has me withering, "What is that look for?" I yelp, straightening my spine in defiance.


    "Yes, you won''t be a proficient reader by the time the snow stops, but I believe I can teach you the basics. What harm is there in trying?"


    I open my mouth to spit some belittling comment but immediately snap my lips shut when Adrian quips, "There isn''t any harm."


    I grumble beneath my breath, reluctant to accept his help- I could do it on my own if I wanted to!


    "It''s strange though," Adrian remarks as he steps closer, his arms folding across his chest easily, "it seems strange that a woman who adamantly insisted that she''d be ''fine'' out in the cold is suddenly deterred by learning to read. Where, I wonder, has her fire gone?"


    "I still have it!" I bark furiously, "I just-"


    "Just what? Are you saying you can''t learn or that you won''t?" He challenges, and I bristle instinctively; no one, not even this beautiful, infuriating man, is going to tell me what I can and can not do!


    "If it will shut you up and prove you wrong, fine! I''ll accept your help! Once I''m reading circles around you, I plan on gloating until I''m blue in the face!"


    Adrian chuckles softly beneath his breath, stepping away from me, my eyes following his lithesome figure as he walks, "Then, let us begin, shall we?"