The Tale Of The Vampire Bride

I saw the light seeping through the doorway to the library. Rage gripped me and I burst into the room. I found Vlad dressed immaculately in black reading a book in English. He looked up at me with faint interest, his lips curling up beneath his thick mustache.



“Did you enjoy your feast?”



I could not speak for a moment. My lips trembled as my throat constricted. Shaking, I drew closer to him and finally said, “May God damn you to hell.”



“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such language from a lady even if she is a vampire.” Vlad clucked at me reproachfully and returned to his reading.



I snatched the book out of his hand and flung it away. “A child! A child, Vlad! Innocent and pure! You gave us a child.”



Leaning back, he stroked his mustache lightly, regarded me thoughtfully, and then laughed. “Yes, innocent and pure. And his innocent and pure blood right now courses through you. I see it in your glowing skin, your sparkling eyes, and your glistening hair. So do not complain to me about that which you enjoyed.”



I lunged at him, hitting him with my fists. “I hate you! You are a monster!”



Gripping my wrists, he drew me down to him. I fell to my knees as he leaned into me. The top of his head touched my brow as he whispered, “You are what I am. Do you hate yourself? For if I am a monster, so are you.”



I drew back from him sharply, trying to wrench free from his grip. “No, never! Never!”



He buried his hand in my hair and raised my face to his. Gazing into my eyes, he smiled at me. “But you are, my dearest bride. You are what I am. A monster.”



Tossing me aside, he rose and reclaimed his book. Lying on the floor crying, I gazed up at him. “I will never be what you are.”



“You are a vampire. I am a vampire. We are very much alike, dear Glynis.”



He sat down in his chair and proceeded to read.



Rising to my feet, I stood before him trembling. My tears flowed hot and fierce against my cold cheeks. When I wiped them from my face, I saw they were tinged with blood.



“I refuse to be like you.”



Vlad sighed and closed his book, one long finger keeping his place. “And how shall you accomplish that, my dear Glynis? What shall you do? Refuse to feed?”



“Yes!”



He laughed at my foolish resolve.



“Do not mock me!”



“But you enjoy feeding, do you not?”



I averted my gaze, my mouth setting into a harsh, bitter line.



“You do enjoy feeding, do you not?”



“The hunger compels me…”



“Yes, it does. But, my darling one, the feeding itself, you do enjoy it, do you not? Their blood giving you life. You love it as much as I.”



“Please stop! Please be silent! It is not true!” I did not want to hear his words. They were brutal and they were, unfortunately, true. I was loath to admit it to either one of us, especially, myself.



Vlad slowly stood, laying his book down. Turning to me, he fastened his fierce green eyes upon me and said in a low voice, “Do not lie to me, woman. You are a killer the same as I.”



I turned away from him, hiding my face in my hands. I trembled with the passion of my anger and shame.



“I thought so, dear Lady Glynis.”



The wolves began to howl. Angry voices began to shout from below. I lifted my face to see Vlad standing near the windows, peering down into the night.



“What is it? What is wrong?”



I joined Vlad and gazed down. Several men with torches and rifles were moving toward the main entrance of the castle. A priest was among them carrying a large crucifix. As I gazed upon it, my eyes felt as though hot needles were stinging them. I quickly slid my gaze away from the cross and fastened it on the men warding off the wolves with flaming torches.



Vlad began to chuckle. “Once more they try to defeat me.”



“Who are they?” I asked, but turned to find myself alone in the room.



Curiosity seized hold of me, so I rushed out the door and down to the great hall. Who was brave enough, nay, foolish enough, to defy Vlad?



When I reached the great hall, Prince Vlad’s heavily armed gypsy guards were already spilling out the front door. Their expressions were fierce and determined as they prepared to defend their Master.



“The priest is mine,” Vlad’s voice drifted through the air, disembodied and cold.



I rushed toward the open doorway, anxious to see what would happen next. As I reached the courtyard, the gypsy guards opened fire on the villagers. Several of the men fell immediately. Others began to return fire striking one of the gypsy men. With a cry, he fell to the ground. The smell of blood, warm and inviting, began to waft on the night breeze.



The priest began to chant as the gypsy guards approached him, but he was fighting against mortals not vampires. A gypsy seized the crucifix and began to wrestle it from his grasp.



The wolves raced into the courtyard, evading the torches and leaping onto one man who had wandered too far from the rest of the attackers. They overcame him and ripped him to shreds.



The scene was chaotic and brutal. I was dazed by the noise, the violence, and the scent of blood. I stood in the doorway, my mouth agape, unsure of what to do.



A man raced at me, a wooden stake raised high above his head with both hands. He screamed with fury, his face contorted as he bore down, determined to strike me down.



Perhaps it was because I was haunted by my conversation with Vlad in the library, but I reacted in a way that I never anticipated. I grabbed hold of my bodice and ripped it open, exposing my chest. Throwing back my head, I waited for the stake to plunge between my breasts and into my heart, ending my misery. Tears streamed down my face as I gazed upwards, praying fervently that God would let me into the Kingdom of Heaven so I could be with my family.



It was not the pain of death that jolted me out of my self-pitying reverie, but a moan and large, grimy, callused hands grabbing hold of my flesh.



Startled, I staggered back as the filthy man tried to pull my dress down my body. His ugly face strained to reach mine as he fumbled with one of my breasts. Screaming with rage at his violation, I seized hold of his head with both of my hands and twisted his head clear about. There was a loud snap and he fell dead at my feet.



Anger burned in me as I looked up to see several village men stumbling toward me. One shielded his eyes from me, turning away. The others moved toward me, struggling with desire as they were beguiled by my appearance. Yet, they were prepared to strike me down.



It was then that the heat of my power enveloped me and I understood the magnitude of my new abilities. Despite their fear, despite their desire to strike me down, they wanted me.



I began to laugh at their stupidity. How feeble and weak they were! I extended my arms and a young, handsome creature fell into them. He tried to kiss me, but I yanked his head to the side and bit down savagely. Crushing him against me, I fed deeply, pulling his life blood into my undead body. The blood flowed hot and glorious into me, empowering me, renewing me even as the other men groped at me.



Ariana flitted past me and another man surrendered to her embrace. Elina growled and bit into the throat of another man pawing at me. Cneajna materialized behind the man who had turned away from me and caught his face in her hands. She enraptured him with her gaze and he submitted to her charms.



“Whores of the devil!”



I dropped my dead prey. Wiping the blood from my lips, I saw a man staggering toward me.



Ah, the priest.



Only three villagers remained alive, including the priest. The smell of blood permeated the night air. My sisters had wrestled their prey down to the ground and were noisily feasting. The gypsy men were covered with blood; a few were wounded. Vlad inspired great loyalty.



Without his crucifix, the priest looked smaller, fatter and more pathetic. He stood before me, flushed, angry, and afraid. Drunken with power and blood, I stared at him. He looked like no priest I had ever encountered. His robe was dirty and he stank of liquor.



“You are all damned! All of you are foul disgusting servants of the devil!”



Ariana rolled off her victim and onto her knees. She began to laugh. “And what of you? A real man of God would never be stupid enough to come here in a drunken stupor to kill us when we are awake!”



The two remaining villagers were trembling with terror, their eyes wide. Yet, despite their fear, they stood straight and defiant, averting our gaze, clearly stronger willed than the others.



“You took a child from the village,” one of them shouted, spittle flecking his lips and beard.



“Our husband brought him to us. We would have returned his body for holy burial,” Cneajna said coldly.



“Your husband is Dracul! The devil!”



I laughed at the priest’s words. They were so terribly accurate.



Vlad emerged from the thin air, a shadow swirling into solidity, and stood before the men. “Yes, I am Dracul, the dragon, the devil. And I told you and your people to stay away from this place.”



“You took a child!”



“His father owed me a debt. Did he not tell you? He came to me pleading for money. We entered a business transaction and I informed him that I would collect what was owed me when I so desired. He never asked my price. He did not want to know what he would have to surrender to me.”



“You swore that you would not take our people if we sent the travelers to you,!” a man shouted at Vlad.



My gaze flicked toward him, and I frowned at his words.



“The agreement still stands,.” Vlad assured him. “This was a far more personal exchange. It does not include the village. But look what you have done. You have stormed my castle, killed some of my men, attempted to rape my wives, and you bring this poor drunken bastard with you.”



Ariana giggled and waggled her fingers at the priest as she sidled up to Vlad. “He is not very scary is he, Master?”



“Yes, it is a pity the former priest died. He was a worthy opponent. That is why he died in peace and not by my hand. I could not touch him.”



Two gypsy women strode out of the castle, dragging long wooden stakes behind them.



The priest bristled at Vlad’s words. “I am your equal! Do not doubt that, sir!”



Vlad laughed. “You are not a worthy opponent. Do not flatter yourself. Even now your eyes stray to my wife.” He reached out and took hold of my arm. He pulled me to his side. “Does not her vampire flesh glow with such lovely radiance?”



The other two men deliberately looked away, but the Priest looked straight at me. I caught him in my power and his mouth dropped open, a slight trickle of saliva trailing down his chin.



I felt flush with power as I watched his reaction. These mortal men wanted me so badly their own bodies betrayed their lust. Vlad gently pulled my hands away from my naked breasts. I did not feel ashamed, but thrilled. The two men fighting not to look upon my nakedness faltered. One of them stumbled toward me. He was knocked back by the meaty fist of one of Vlad’s guards.



“Is this what you want? A vampire whore? A bride of the devil? You are betrayed by your own lusts!” Vlad laughed at them, mocking them. He pulled my long locks over my shoulders to hide my flesh.



I released them from my power. They stumbled back, terrified by how close their lust had drawn them to death.



“One may go to warn the others what foolish actions shall bring about. Two die as an example,” Vlad said casually.



“I must go back,” the priest exclaimed.



Vlad moved swiftly. Snatching up one of the long, sharp stakes, he rammed it up through the thick man’s body until it exploded out of his skull.



I turned away, sickened as brain matter splattered me. I heard the second man cry out as I was showered with droplets of blood.



“Go! Never return! I have spared you,” Vlad shouted.



The remaining villager ran from the castle screaming. The wolves rushed after him nipping at his heals, spurring him on faster.



“Do not kill him! Frighten him, but do not spill his blood! For his obedience in delivering my message, he will have my protection,” Vlad declared stalking about the courtyard with triumphant fervor.