The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood Page 11

  Her exposed sex touched against his face. He ignored it and guzzled down her blood with real urgency. The pain in his body did not go away, but it did subside.

  He smashed through the wooden wall into the next house with the girl still upside down in his grip. His intrusion alerted the entire household as it had in the one before. The couple who lived here had two grown sons. When they emerged from their beds, he tossed the dead body of the girl at them, intent only on finding their mother.

  Their father jumped at him from the dark. With his impaired senses, Dracula did not see or hear him lurking there. He reacted quickly, though, and punched the man hard to the stomach. The blow winded him completely and lifted him off his feet. He flew backwards through the air and crashed against a wall. His head smacked hard against it before he slumped down to the floor, unconscious.

  Dracula walked straight to the bed. There, he found the man’s wife cowering in the corner behind a blanket. He grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her with force down the eider mattress.

  She cried out at his rough treatment of her. Dracula ignored her pleas of help to her husband. He eyed her stomach, and a rush of excitement passed through him. It looked swollen and heavy.

  He pulled her legs apart violently, oblivious to the pain it caused her. As she screamed, he bit hard into the soft folds of her labia, his fangs driving deep into her flesh and taking a firm hold. Right away, he picked up the scent of amniotic fluid. He took a deep breath and began to suck.

  Her two sons got past the obstacle he had thrown at them and ran into the room. Their hearts raced at the sound of their mother’s screams. They saw the faint outline of a man with his head between her legs. The eldest of them rushed over, his only thought of killing the intruder. Dracula did not even look around. He raised his leg and kicked the youth hard in the stomach with the butt of his heel.

  The blow jerked him back, and the base of his skull smashed against the forehead of his brother behind him. Both the young men fell to the floor. The second of them reeled around, unable to get to his feet. The first lay motionless where he fell. Blood oozed from the back of his head, his eyes staring up into the darkness.

  The woman screamed one last time and then passed out. Dracula sucked the whole of her womb out through her vaginal passage. The effects as it oozed down his throat were immediate.

  He fell back on the floor with his eyes closed. The consumed foetus began to work right away, and served as an antibiotic throughout his system. Almost at once, it started to replenish his damaged capillary linings and muscle tissues. He gasped in pain as he felt it filter through him.

  A battle raged within his body, and he convulsed on the floor the whole time. The jelly in his system sought out the bad blood, finally succeeding in finding and killing it. It then drove the poison out through his every orifice.

  He lay there for a time. The healing process had exhausted him. A pool of the expelled fluids surrounded his body, exuding a sharp, acrid odour.

  Slowly, his body began to cool and he felt the vitality restored to his system. His senses returned to their natural state as a long sigh of relief escaped his lips. He knew he was going to survive this near brush with permanent death.

  It was only then he realised the younger of the woman’s two sons had fled the house. The young man had run away screaming when he saw his brother was dead. From somewhere outside, Dracula heard the voices of those the young man had alerted.

  They got up from their beds to meet the alarm. To anyone who would listen, the young man told the story of what had happened in his home. Few of them believed him, and the majority thought him drunk. Some even cursed him for waking them from their sleep. Still, as friends and neighbours to his parents, they felt compelled to investigate.

  Dracula listened to the clamour as they recruited numbers from other houses. Soon, quite a mob would be hunting him. He forgot about them for a moment. They did not pose any real threat to his well-being.

  A groan from behind saw him on his feet in a flash. The man of the house was coming round. Dracula pounced on him before he opened his eyes. He drank the man dry in quick time.

  Outside, the noises increased, where a strong group had gathered in the narrow street. Dracula cared little for them. The first whiff of dawn on the horizon concerned him much more. The last thing he needed was to encounter that.

  He flew at blinding speed out of the house. The men in the street saw him as a blur as he passed over them.

  “What was that?” one of them asked.

  They all shrugged. None of them knew, but they had seen it.

  He combed the city from the air for a safe place to sleep. Dawn was close. He did not want to risk returning to his usual resting place. It was too far away and time was against him. His eyes focused on a graveyard on the outskirts of the city. That would have to do for now.

  His feet touched down in front of a mausoleum. He cursed when the cold soil singed his feet. In his urgency, he had forgotten about the hallowed ground. Instead, he headed for the sewers beneath the city.

  Dracula looked up to the heavens to address God. “You did not kill me on this occasion.”

  He found an entrance to the sewer and disappeared inside it. A thousand rats scurried away from him. Their sharp senses had alerted them to a dangerous predator. He ignored them and searched out a dry spot to rest. When he found one, he settled down to sleep.

  TUSCANY. THE SEWERS BELOW FLORENCE.

  SEPTEMBER 2, 1489.

  Dracula could not rest at any time during the day. He awoke often, and each time he could think only of Piera. All day long, he heard the rain beat down. It affected his sleep and caused his blood to feel cold. He thought of venturing out into the daylight and finding somewhere warmer and dryer. The foetus allowed him to go out as long as the sun was not shining. Dark skies hung over Tuscany all through the day. He knew he could if he chose to, but elected to remain where he was.

  He wanted to see Piera. By now she would be quite ill, if not already dead. If there was a way to save her, he had to try. But his body ached all over. He had still not healed fully, and his limbs felt weak. For that reason, he did not risk going out until dark.

  Piera had endured the most awful day. Her body pained her as badly as his had. Slowly, the infection took ahold of her and worked its way outwards from the wound in her neck. She felt it crawl like a parasite through her veins. Through this network, it spread to every part of her body. The wound itself turned black and gangrenous, dark yellow pus oozing from both puncture holes. It attracted bugs and other vermin, which crawled all over her. Some even nibbled at the infected spot.

  She still could not move. A strong paralysis gripped her, as though she were in the early hours after death. Even when the cramps hit her stomach every so often, her limbs remained useless.

  With the hours that passed, her skin turned deathly white. Her eyes sank into their sockets, and dark shadows formed around them both. A thick film of sweat coated her entire body and served to make her feel ever colder.

  She ran the events of the night before over in her mind while she waited to die. The only end to this could be death. She knew that much. Why did you do this to me, Vlad? I thought you loved me. I gave myself to you, and this is what you do.

  Her body grew ever weaker and, although she could not see it, her feet and hands had turned black. She could no longer feel any sensation in them. Her breathing became harder and more laboured as the hours passed. The sweat from her face trickled into her mouth. Without the ability to swallow, she feared it might choke her. A beetle followed it inside.

  It crawled onto her tongue before it fell and stuck in her throat. Panic gripped her. She tried to cough to dislodge it, but could not. A horrible sound escaped her mouth as she fought for breath. Father, why have You forsaken me?

  Then she threw up. The heave it caused in her body turned her onto her side. Vomit spewed from her mouth in waves and onto the bed. The mucous clogged in her nose, but she could still br
eathe through her mouth, just. She noticed the beetle on its back. It lay in the pool of her vomit, kicking out its legs.

  Something caught her eye a little farther away. Turning them to the side, she saw Dracula stood there. He had returned. She watched as he put a hand to his mouth.

  Seeing her in this condition crushed him. He had never intended to hurt her in any way. All he wanted was to take her with him. They would have spent an eternity together. But she had consecrated blood in her veins. That had put an end to everything.

  “I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I only wanted you to be with me.”

  She could not answer. To show her disgust, she turned her eyes away.

  He moved closer to the bed so she might listen to him. “You can talk to me through your thoughts,” he said. “I can read them all.”

  What?

  “Yes, I can. Try it. Talk to me.”

  What did you do to me? You bit me.

  “Yes, I did,” he said, dropping his head. “I wanted to make you as I am. So we could be together for always.”

  I thought you meant as man and wife. I would have been content with that. But you bit me! I saw you smash through my roof. What are you?

  “I am so sorry,” he said again. The use of the word what stung him. For one so close to his heart to use it, in reference to him, was a real blow to his already diminishing sense of worth. But could he blame her? “I had no idea you had consecrated blood. If I had known, I would not have done it.”

  Consecrated blood? What do you mean?

  “When you took your vows, the pope blessed you.”

  Yes.

  “It consecrated you and made your blood holy. It is like poison to me. It almost killed me.”

  What are you?

  There it was again. He could not bring himself to look at her. “I am a creation of Lucifer’s. I do his work.”

  She looked abhorred. But that did not ail her the most. You left me. You ran away and left me.

  “I had to, or I would have died. I had to find a cure.”

  And what of me? You left me here. I need a cure too.

  She saw the pain in his eyes.

  He looked desperate. “I do not know what I can do to reverse this.”

  I am going to die! Help me! Please!

  He tugged at his hair in frustration. If there were anything he could do, he would do it. She could see that clearly enough.

  I am afraid. I do not want to die.

  “Oh, Piera,” he said, dropping to his knees beside her. “I would give anything to have you well.”

  Go. Leave me to meet my maker alone.

  “Is that what you want?”

  Yes.

  “I would have stayed with you for all time. I love you, Piera.”

  She closed her eyes. I had fallen in love with you too.

  He turned to leave, but in that moment, another cramp hit her stomach. It exceeded all the others in both extremity and pain. Her body seized. Dracula tried to scan her thoughts, but they were too scrambled. He knew death was upon her.

  Sitting down on her bed, he held her in his arms. Her whole body stiffened. The gangrene that had taken a hold in her feet and hands had reached both her knees and elbows. The whole of her neck and the underside of her chin had turned a ghastly black also.

  He looked up and shouted, “Where is Your mercy? Why can You not spare her this torment? Damn You!”

  Her body fell limp in his arms. She was dead. He laid her back down on the bed and covered her body. The White Ones would come for her soon. She was a good soul and would go to her rightful place. He did not like to be around them and felt anxious at being there when they came. However, he could not leave her all alone like this. He decided then to stay until she had made her journey.

  He sat down on one of the two chairs in the small room. His heart felt heavier than he could ever remember, and the guilt he felt weighed him down. It was a terrible thing he had done, and it would haunt him for eternity. As far back as his memory took him, he did not recall ever crying; not since he had lost Milia many years before. He cried now and he cried hard. His grief was such that he did not see the colour of the aura that appeared around her.

  Her soul rose from her body and hovered there, waiting for them to claim her. He took his head from his hands and looked up. The aura around her was black. He wiped his eyes to ensure he was seeing it correctly.

  “It is black!” he cried out in anguish. “How can it be black?”

  She looked at him with utter contempt. He had destroyed everything for her, even her afterlife. She knew now what awaited her. Just as he said, she was a beauty. In the depths of Hell, it would ensure her an eternity of misery. Every beast that lurked in its bowels would want a piece of her. The awful reality that faced her was that they would have her too.

  He knew it as well. “No!” he cried. “No!”

  A faint sound met his ears, and he stopped to listen. They were coming for her. The Black Ones. She heard it too. With it, he saw the real look of terror on her face.

  He paced about in desperation. “No!” he screamed again.

  The sound grew slowly louder. Piera looked at him as if urging him to do something. It was the worst feeling. He could do nothing.

  Piera saw it first, and her soul screamed out loud for mercy. A porthole opened right there in the room. Through it, three of the Black Ones emerged.

  They had the appearance of tiny monks, as cassocks of the deepest black covered their small bodies. Large black cowls obscured their faces. All he could see of them were their hands and feet. These looked as black as their clothes. They were unnaturally long, with even longer claws at the end of each of the three digits. It meant they could only hobble and not walk.

  Piera tried to escape them, but she had nowhere to turn. Her soul could not move away from her dead body. Dracula swung at one of them. His fist passed straight through it as though it were thin air.

  It turned and growled at him in a way that sent a shiver through him. Piera screamed as the other two grabbed her, taking his focus back to her. Because she fought them, they cut her arms and legs to pieces with their claws. They showed her the Abyss before dragging her down into it.

  The porthole closed again, and Piera disappeared with it to the depths of Hell. Dracula was beside himself with grief. He paced about the room. There had to be something he could do. “Lucifer!” he shouted.

  He waited for a response, but it did not come.

  “Lucifer!” he bellowed again, so loud that his voice echoed off the walls. “Lucifer! Lucy! Whatever your damned name is! I want to see you in the here and now!”

  Again, there was no response to his call. He began to grow really agitated. “If you do not come, I shall end this all.”

  A large cloud of smoke appeared from nowhere that reeked of sulphur. When it cleared, Lucifer stood before him. Dracula saw the anger in his eyes. He could do nothing when his master grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall.

  Lucifer glared at him. “You shall do what?”

  Dracula struggled for breath, Lucifer possessing strength far superior to his. “You know what I said.”

  “You do not want to make a habit of it.”

  “I had to get your attention.”

  “You think I have nothing better to do? You think I must come for every little whim of yours?”

  “There has been a mistake.”

  Lucifer looked to the bed. “You mean her?”

  “Yes, and only you can rectify it.”

  “There has been no mistake.”

  “Then why did yours come for her? She was pure in heart and soul.”

  “She may have been, but you put an end to that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She gave herself to you.”

  “I gave her no choice.”

  “They all have a choice. She sold her soul to you. That means it belongs to me.”

  “No!” Dracula protested in a rage. “I stole away her in
nocence. She is an innocent.”

  “Not any longer.”

  “You have to give her back!”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes!”

  Lucifer tossed him across the room. “I do not have to do anything. Nor shall I.”

  “Then I shall end my existence. That would release her soul.”

  “She is in the Hall of Justice as we speak. Once she has gone before the Great Balance, nothing you can do shall bring her back.”

  “Then I should make haste.”

  “Go ahead. I need only find another to take your place.”

  “If it were that simple, you would have done so already.”

  “How do you know I have not?”

  “You would not have come.”

  “You are beginning to vex me.”

  “I no longer care.”

  “You had best care.”

  “If her soul is damned, that is the end of it for me.”

  “There is never an end.”

  “Then do as you will. I care not anymore.”

  “If you die, your soul still comes to me. I could give you a fate in Hell worse than any other has endured.”

  “Then so be it.”

  Lucifer clenched his fists in anger. “She is but a mortal! What do you care what becomes of her?”

  “It is not right. She does not belong there.”

  “She does belong there! Lest she would not be there!”

  “I do not accept that.”

  “It is the way of the world. Grow accustomed to it, and fast!”

  “I have given you many souls. What does one more matter to you?”

  “They all matter. Every soul counts. I fight God for every one of them. I cannot release one on a whim, to satisfy you.”

  “Then take me down too. For I shall do your work no more.”

  Lucifer struck him with a forearm. He glared at Dracula as his protégé crashed against a wall. “I cannot believe I am even thinking of this. Do not make me regret my faith in you,” he warned, almost in a hiss. “Come, she is in the Hall of Justice.”