Dracula Theory, page 21
“Have you gone mad?” Van Helsing shouted. “We came here to end this hellish cult, not join them.”
Dracula turned to Abraham. “Cult? You dare speak that word? Consider the very building that stands above us. The Catholic church.” Dracula’s face knotted up in disgust. “Has there ever been a greater example of a cult?”
Davith stepped in. “I beg your pardon? The church is an institution of grace and giving, of heart and hope. We are not in the business of taking hostages or lives.”
Dracula’s laugh filled the room. “Priest, you know not of what you speak of. I lived through the Inquisition and have witnessed scores of people subjugated into the fold without choice. That is the behavior of a false god, desperate to claim souls for the sake of show.” The Count drew dangerously close to Abraham. “What we are is family, forever tied together by blood.”
“The blood is life!” Renfield’s voice called out from behind. I turned to see the strange man descending the stairs, his arms reaching out as though he were an infant and Dracula his father.
“Come to me, my child.” Dracula spoke with an overabundance of pride.
Renfield fell into the vampiric rank and file. At this point, the tunnel was overcrowded with the Romanians, many of whom had their dagger-like teeth bared as if to say, “Tread carefully.”
“This is madness,” Van Helsing shouted and brought his weapon to bear on the coven. “I will dispatch each of you back to Hell from whence you came.”
“I beg your pardon,” one of the vampires stepped out of the shadows—a young woman, no more than eighteen years of age. “I am from Romania, not Hell. I was orphaned by a Christian woman who tossed me aside to run off with a lover. These people took me in, raised me, cared for me. If it were not for the Count and his children, I’d have died on the streets. Now? I have an eternity to enjoy.” The girl took two steps toward Van Helsing, before he unleashed his beast and doused her with holy water. The braying sound of suffering was as heartbreaking as the reaction from the other vampires. Those around her dropped to the floor beside her, in an attempt to stop the spread of blisters and boils overtaking her body.
Dracula shouted, “Clear away from her.”
All attending to the girl’s wounds retreated to give the Count room to work. What he would then do I would never have guessed. Dracula opened a vein in his arm and pressed his flesh to the girl’s lips. The wounded girl suckled at the Count’s wrist, drawing blood from the biological tap.
Before Van Helsing could react, Renfield was on him, pinning the larger man against a wall as if he were nothing more than a child’s plaything.
“Mr. Renfield,” Dracula bellowed. “Enough.” Renfield released his grip on command. “Relieve him of his weapon.” Once again, Renfield complied, stripping Van Helsing of the sprayer. “The priest as well.” Even before Renfield reached Davith, the priest set the weapon on the ground at his feet. Renfield scooped it up and carried both away as though they contained liquid plague.
We were without defense, vulnerable among a horde of vampires. And yet, I feared nothing. With Mina nearby, I was overcome by a comforting peace.
“Please, Master, let me drain them and pick their bones clean of flesh. I have been a most helpful servant, have I not?”
Dracula stood from his ministrations and turned to the pleading minion. “How dare you speak of such acts. I have afforded you the necessary grace period of ignorance, but that time is finished. The blood of our people flows through you now, along with an ancient and all-encompassing knowledge. Your intelligence is now equal to the sum total of my children, so behave as such or endure the consequence of being stripped of my gift.”
Renfield dropped to his knees. With hands clasped as though to pray, he begged. “Kindest Master, I beg your merciful forgiveness. Being the fledgling I am, I know not what I do.”
“Silence!” Dracula roared, loud enough to bring a cloud of dust down from the ceiling.
Renfield fell instantly, and perfectly, quiet, as he rejoined his brothers and sisters. Dracula returned his attention to me.
“You must allow us to return to our land. We are not safe here, for more reasons than you could possibly comprehend.”
I took a single step toward the Count. “Help me to understand.”
Tears welled in the Count’s eyes. “But why? What purpose would it serve? Your knowledge of our existence already places us in grave danger.”
“What will you do?” Van Helsing’s voice was riddled with fear. “Murder us?”
Dracula looked to Abraham, his eyes lined with shock. “No. Unlike you mortals, we are not a violent species. We will return to Romania and you three will go as well, as a part of our family.”
To my shock, Van Helsing laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. If you think, for a second, I will have anything to do with—”
“Silence.” Dracula spoke calmly, waving his hand in front of Van Helsing’s face. Abraham’s visage instantly shifted from warrior’s rage to a pacifist's peace.
Davith nervously raised his hand. “I’m afraid this might run in contradiction to my solemn vow to God.”
Dracula looked to the priest and smiled. “We are not heathens, created to serve the dark lord Satan. Among this family you will find Catholics, Protestants, Buddhists—nearly every faith to have ever knelt in prayer, as well as atheists. Your piety is not only welcome among us, it is considered a blessing, father.”
“At what cost?” Van Helsing raised the one question I feared asking.
The Count stepped forward, his fingers steepled under his chin and a warm smile spread across his lips. There was a level of kindness emanating from the man I had never before witnessed. Was this to be the moment of revelation that would forever change my life? A quick glance to Mina confirmed something of great profundity was about to be imparted. Dracula nodded once and answered softly. “Yes. I cannot lie to you, Abraham Van Helsing. The cost to join our number is quite high. In order to be with us, you must become one of us, forever shunning your family, friends, and profession.”
And there it was. My answer, my salvation, my return to Mina’s embrace. From my perspective, there was no hesitation to accepting Dracula’s gift. Living a life of eternity with my Mina was all the justification I needed to join the vampiric fold. I’d allow Dracula to drain me dry if it meant spending another second with Mina by my side.
Without trepidation, I stepped forward and announced, “You have my complete devotion. I will join your family, Count Dracula. Instruct me, and thy will be done.”
The Count looked to me and nodded. “Very well, Jonathan Harker.” Dracula clapped his hands together. Two male vampires, each of whom looked as if he could lift a horse over his head without breaking a sweat, stepped forward. “You will be restrained, while I—”
From above, a most inhuman roar shook the foundation of the church. The sound was garbled, but it seemed as if whoever—or whatever—was creating the noise knew what inhuman delights were to be found below the church. I watched the Count take a quick inventory of his children. He then nodded to the two men about to restrain me, who both took to the stairs. Every gaze in the room followed the men as they ascended. Not a sound could be heard in the tunnels; not one creature stirred. After a moment of intense silence, another bellow echoed off the walls, followed by the first of the burly vampires being tossed into the stairwell, his body thumping down to the floor. Minus one crucial thing.
Seconds later, the vampire’s head followed, a trail of blood in its wake. After a moment, both pieces exploded into an ashen cloud.
Dracula stood motionless, stunned at the sight. Before he could respond, a second head bounced down the stairs; this time, no headless body followed suit. Upon the final bounce, the head was rendered a pile of dust.
Another hell-born roar echoed down from above.
Van Helsing stepped in close to me. “Take this,” he whispered. In Abraham’s hand was a gleaming pistol, like none I’d ever beheld. “Silver bullets should stop whatever it is that’s about to join our little party.”
I refused to accept the weapon.
“Harker, this is for your own good. I don’t care if you’re a pacifist, something wicked this way comes, and I’m not about to leave you vulnerable. Take the goddamn gun and be prepared to use it.”
How could I resist such charm? I accepted the weapon and tucked it away, under my belt, and buried it behind my coat.
Van Helsing nodded toward the hidden weapon. “You might regret not having the means to defend yourself at the ready. I’ve witnessed, first hand, the horrors these creatures can inflict. You do not want to be on the receiving end of such punishment.”
“It seems to me these creatures are dead set on proving you wrong. And I will happily help them in the proving.”
A chilling silence wafted down from above. My pulse raced, nearly catching Dracula’s.
Jonathan. The Count’s voice returned. I looked back to see him staring, wide-eyed, my way. I can feel him, feel my blood flowing through his veins with such rage.
Who? I dared ask.
Before Dracula could answer, the sound of shoes striking the stone steps echoed from above. Slowly the intruder descended, the sound of rasping breath joining the symphony of suspense.
And then he appeared.
The Baron.
The man’s eyes were glowing scarlet, and his teeth had descended beyond his lower lip. Unlike the other vampires, there was a bestial quality to his transformation, as though the process chose not to end at the next stage of evolution and found other, more horrific depths to mine. The Baron’s face was a twisted knot of flesh, his nose completely missing and his forehead twice its usual height. A pair of exaggerated, pointed ears resembled those of a bat, almost as if the man had attempted to transmogrify and found himself stuck between states.
The Baron leaned forward and opened his mouth to speak. Instead of intelligible words, a monstrous screech emanated from deep within the bowels of the beast. As it roared, sinew and muscle flexed to nearly snapping.
One of the male vampires rushed the Baron, only to be slapped away like an annoying fly. Another charged, this time to be snatched up in the Baron’s grasp. One hand held the man’s throat and the other reached down and scooped up his ankles. With a great tug, the Baron ripped the man in half, his entrails looping from his unsealed gut to gather at the feet of the beast.
“Shoot him,” Van Helsing whispered, his words drawing the attention of the Baron.
The pistol pressed against my hip, reminding me to take action. As I considered drawing the gun, I spotted one of our original weapons nearby. Before the Baron could figure out my plan, I scooped up the sprayer, took aim, and pulled the trigger. A narrow stream of water sprayed from the nozzle. The second the liquid came in contact with the Baron’s exposed flesh, smoke began to rise, and the creature unleashed a wall-shaking roar.
The Baron swung his arms before him, in a vain attempt to block the rain of holy, liquid fire. When that tactic failed to protect him, he reached down, grabbed the headless body, and swung out. The legs of the corpse connected with my shoulder, knocking me down and the sprayer from my grasp, before exploding in a cloud of black ash. It was then that the unholy bastard dropped onto me, snapping his jaws wildly. I pressed my forearm into the Baron’s neck, thus preventing him from getting close enough to rend my flesh with his unholy mouth.
As the fangs drew dangerously near to my neck, a foot connected with the thing’s head to send the beast crashing to the floor. The Baron stood and shook off the blow. I rolled out of the way, got to my feet, and grabbed the sprayer, just in time to see Mina dive for the Baron. She wrapped her arms around his neck, spun behind him, and squeezed until ropy snakes of sinew and muscle strained with the effort. The Baron shook her off with far too much ease and then returned his attention to me.
“I drank it all,” the Baron growled, his voice ragged and inhuman. “I thought, why sell off every drop of this precious nectar, when I could transform it into a never-ending source? Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it doing this to me. Look at what I’ve become!” The Baron wailed. “I am hideous, a monster relegated to the darkness of shadows, never to spend another second in the company of those who would pay a premium for the smallest fraction of what I have to offer. The more fool they. I could now not only give the highest bidders immortality, but strength beyond description. In the process of shifting into a creature of the night, I have become immortal, invincible, and yet unspeakably bereft of comeliness. I am a thing of twisted nature, beyond the reckoning of logic. In my unmaking, I will rule the land.” The Baron stomped a foot hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling.
Dracula stepped forward. “I cannot allow you act upon those instincts.”
The Baron laughed. “You cannot stop me.”
“That is where you are mistaken. I have powers beyond your comprehension, powers that enable me to do that which is best for the greater good.” Dracula looked to me and nodded. The next words from Dracula were in my head.
Kill me.
Once again, the Baron laughed. “You forget, Count, I’m in your head as well. Your death will come, trust me on that. But I have such plans for you, machinations that require you to remain alive.” The Baron looked to me. “You, on the other hand, have no purpose in the new world order.”
The Baron grabbed my head in his grasp and squeezed. The pressure exerted against my skull was mind-numbingly painful. The sounds of cracking began to resonate inside my head. My time was about to come to an abrupt, and horrific, end. The Baron pulled me to him, his glowing scarlet eyes glaring into mine as if he hoped to steal away my soul with nothing more than a gaze.
This time, no foot arrived to my rescue. Instead, the savior came in liquid form. Someone had the intelligence to open fire on the Baron, soaking his face in holy water. The acrid stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils, and the screeching of profound suffering pounded my sense of hearing. A cascading waterfall sprayed over my exposed flesh, causing me no discernible pain. The Baron released me and backed away from the pious onslaught.
I turned to see Mina holding one of the pneumatic sprayers, a look of exquisite determination on her face. A quick inventory of the room and I spotted the second weapon. Upon scooping it up, I spun on my heels and unleashed my own volley of liquid hellfire. Together, Mina and I trapped the Baron in a corner, drenching the wailing bastard until he coward into a quivering mass of melting flesh.
And then the streams died. Our weapons ran dry. The Baron remained, squatting in the corner, hiding his face behind arms eaten away by the liquid blessing. To my surprise, Dracula stood between us and the Baron, holding his arms up as if to say, “Enough.”
“You have desecrated our bloodline, to become a bastardization of evolution.” The Count spoke with a calming ease. “Please understand, you cannot be allowed to exist. As much as it pains me to end your life, it is our only hope of remaining hidden from mortal society.”
The Baron’s body relaxed, as though he was about to give over to Dracula’s will, when one of his blistered and flesh-stripped arms rammed into the Count’s chest, sending him crashing to the floor. The Baron leaped up and dropped, straddling Dracula. One after another, the creature landed blows down on the Count’s head. Dracula’s blood began to arc from his face. The Baron hammered away, relentless in his rage. One after another, members of the coven attempted to pull the Baron from Dracula, only to be tossed aside with a frightful ease. To my shock, Dracula did nothing to defend himself, as the Baron’s rage was unleashed.
Van Helsing rushed the Baron and pressed a silver crucifix into the exposed flesh of the thing’s back. A filament of acrid smoke rose from the meeting of relic and beast, but to no avail. The Baron shook Abraham off with too much ease, and returned his attention to his prey.
I was certain Count Dracula was about to meet his demise, when every vampire in the vicinity converged on the Baron. Claws dug into the already ruined flesh, sending chunks of meat flying to the dirt floor around us. Screams of unfiltered hatred spilled from bloodied and befanged mouths. The snap of bone gave the hellish symphony a percussive beat I hoped wouldn’t haunt my every waking nightmare. Two vampires pulled at the Baron’s arms, in opposite directions. The integrity of the Baron’s shoulders was about to give under the strain, when, in a show of shocking mercy, Dracula called out, “No more!” At his command the coven ceased their attack and backed away. In a ruined heap, the Baron remained, unmoving, seated in what could have been seen as a posture of sullen prayer.
In a somber voice, the Baron begged, “End my suffering.”
“I cannot,” Dracula replied. “No matter the plots and schemes you devised against me, you are one of my children. The blood of Dracula courses through you, as it does all those I love and have promised to protect. Whether you live or die is not my choice to make. I am no killer.”
“But I am.” It was Van Helsing that spoke. He extracted a wooden stake from his kit, raised it above his head, rushed the Baron, and sent the wooden spike plunging through the back and into the heart of the evolutionary mistake. As Abraham withdrew the stake, the Baron scattered to dust. Van Helsing stood, wiped the vampiric soot from his face, and said, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
The whole of the crowd looked on in silence, unsure of what to do next. It wasn’t until Mina approached me, her arms reaching out, that I realized the nightmare was over.
“Thank you,” Mina said with a level of finality. “Without your aid, we never would have survived this ordeal.”
Dracula approached, precious blood still dripping from the now-healing wounds on his face. “She speaks truth. Had you, the priest, and Van Helsing not intervened, I am certain that abomination would have destroyed this entire coven, myself included. For that, you have my eternal gratitude.”
Mina grabbed my hand and turned to Dracula. “Father, you were about to anoint our newest member.”
From somewhere in the shadows, Mr. Renfield shouted, “We shall forever be brothers!”
