“It’s you.” The elderly Duchess commented in horror.
“Of course it’s me.” Dracula hissed, quietly revelling in watching Valeria connect the dots. “A pineapple in the depths of that freezing winter. It must’ve seemed like magic. Transported from the emperors own hothouse like a precious jewel.”
Tears began to fill Valeria’s but that hard gaze the pair of them shared on the night of her 18th birthday has returned once more but now with a fire that could only be made from a lifetime of experience one would get with age. “I knew it. It’s impossible, but I knew it. It’s you.”
As the memories of that night, even his entire time at the estate, began to bubble back into his mind, Dracula’s hiss tone of voice turned soft & warm, just as he spoke to her when she’d arrived at the top of the stairs. “Of course it’s me.” he reassured once more. “Valeria, how we danced.” a smile bubbled onto his face, one that she would deem sinister but one that he would class as genuine.
“Yes.” she paused, recollecting the event’s of that night. “That was the night my Mother disappeared.”
“Yes.” Dracula commented simply. He saw something glimmer in her eye, and he knew that this Valeria, the one in her old age, was growing sick. He also knew it was time to reap her wealth. Who are you? she asked him, despite the fact she’d just remembered him, but Dracula knew it wouldn’t be worth going round in circles. Instead, he held out his palm & asked “Shall we dance again?”
In those teary, terrified, and confused eyes, something had registered. A knowing that this was her time, or perhaps a promise had been kept. Dementia never told which, so Valeria took his hand, accepting that this was the end of her line.
Dracula sat there a moment, simply admiring the lines on Valeria’s face. It wouldn’t be worth attempting to make her, not only did he not entirely understand how to create another but he wasn’t entirely sure if this illness Valeria would cease or continue in its pattern. There was a kindness in killing her. The illness would stop, and he would gain yet another fortune.
As Valeria took his hand, something seemed to switch on inside her, as if the connection of their hands had rebooted her memory.
“What happened to my Mama?” she asked with a sudden energy.
“Mama!” 18 year old Valeria cried out at the sight of the exotic fruit. There was another side to her Mother that wasn’t always shown, and that was the show off in her. She had private ties to the emperor & that is the main reason why so many still stayed by her side, even during her mourning. Status. Lady Katharina took her daughters hands, so pleased to see her daughter pleased with a rare gift. “Thank you.” Valeria squeaked during their embrace.
“You deserve the finest, my darling. Happy birthday, I love you.” Katharina cooed in her ear “But now, you must dance. Enjoy the night while we have it.”
Valeria pulled away & to her own surprise, she dragged the Count back to the dance floor. Abbot wasn’t here to dance, and neither was her father. He was the only man, if you could call him that, that knew all dances, expanding through the centuries. In her almost drunk like giddiness, Valeria span & dipped in his grip. In a natural habit on the ease of feeding on a human, Dracula’s fangs dropped in that instant, teasing at the nape of her neck. He wanted to tear at her flesh so desperately but something pulled him back. Perhaps it was the amount of humans in the room. Too many would get away. Perhaps he cared for Valeria & Katharina? No. He pulled back. He needed that money. Valeria looked almost swept away as she raised her brow in a teasing manner to him. The Count didn’t like that smirk one bit “You are going to die at my hand one day, and there will be nothing you can do to stop me. I will absorb you until you cease to exist.” his attitude had changed entirely. Dracula cut off the dance in that moment, bowing his head to her, and disappeared into the crowd, avoiding the eye of the pair of them for the rest of the majority of the evening. That was odd. Terrifying almost. He planned to kill her, after he promised no harm. What had brought that about?
A servant came to Valeria’s side, she was talking to a suitor who stood no chance of becoming her betrothed, whispering “A boy is waiting outside. He.. belittles the area but he insists he knows you.” The servants nose seemed to wrinkle in disgust at Abbotts existence. Valeria took no notice, Abbott was here & that’s all who she wanted to see tonight. Dropping down the stairs, she beamed once more at the sight of him. “Abbott!” she whined as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Abbott was dressed in his finest Sunday clothes, though in societies eyes they wouldn’t be good enough to attend a ball with.
He gingerly held a bunch of daisies for her “I’m sorry, it’s not much, but I thought they was beautiful, and they made me think of you.” Gratefully, Valeria took the bunch in her arms. Despite its rarity, the flowers took the top place of gifts for this birthday, mainly because they were from her beloved.
“I haven’t told Mama yet but...” Valeria confessed “I think it would be easier if you were at my side, so we could defiantly show her just how much we are in love. She couldn’t deny it if she saw it.” Valeria took hold of his hand, and gave a reassuring smile. Without a word, Abbott agreed, though his heart was in his throat.
As the pair reached the top of the stairs, almost to the doors, a flood of horrified guests came bursting out, their faces painted as though the devil himself had decided to come in attendance. “FIRE! GET OUT! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!” They cried out, brushing harshly past Valeria, & almost trampling the pair of them over in their terror. Valeria had managed to have been knocked over at one point, but found long fingers pulling her up once more before her head met the ground.
“Valeria.” Dracula spoke in that singular, deathly tone once more “Go. You must run. Stay with Abbott. There is nothing for you here now.” his voice desperate, caring, & stern like a Father with their offspring.
“Where is Mama?!” she argued back to him, having not recognised her Mother amongst the crowd that trampled out. A sudden explosion from inside the home, either from collapse or a highly flammable substance caught they wouldn’t know, caused an outcry of screams from the guests on the lawn.
Count Dracula’s eyes met Valeria’s terrified ones. He could control her memory, and so, he took her face in his hands & calmly spoke “Your Mother ran away with a lover. You don’t know who. You don’t know why. You will forget I was ever here, Valeria. Merely a face amongst the crowd. Do you understand me?” amid all the noise, the howling of the flames, Valeria understood, showing that with an obedient nod. Dracula reached behind her, to grab at Abbotts hand. He couldn’t be influenced by Dracula’s control but he only hoped he was influenced by his words “Abbott, take her with you, away from here. Give her a good life.” and as obedient as he was, he listened. Abbott stole Valeria’s hand, dragging her away from the flames, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. Until a writer took interest in her life story, where she found herself upon a ship.
The Demeter, 1897.
The cold wind of the ocean nipped at the Duchess’ skin, the welcome chill cooling her down after the flurry of emotions that Dracula had opened within her. Her eyes were closed as she breathed in that salt air, and with a sigh she opened them once more “I remember now. The fire, the total devastation it caused.” she watched the waves over the edge of the ship, how dark & tormenting they seemed. “But that doesn’t answer the question,” her gaze met the dark & torment in Count Dracula’s eyes. “What happened to her? My Mother? If you’re going to kill me like you promised, I should like to die knowing what happened to her. She didn’t run away with a lover. You were her lover. So, what happened?”
Count Dracula was resting his arms on the side of the Demeter, hands folded over it’s edge, staring out into the abyss, watching the stars burn for seemingly miles on end. He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, as though tasting the last remnants of decadent sauce. “Egon.”
She blinked, pulling her shawl tighter around her “The servant? I thought he’d died.”
Dracula sniggered & snort “As did I!” but Valeria held still, keeping her gaze on him. “He was the first I’d ever managed to create like myself. But he was incredibly flawed. He had no control of himself & I had no control on him.” Dracula stood upright, his voice monotone as he addressed her fully “He served your Mothers head on a serving platter to me, it was really dressed quite well for a servant without kitchen experience...” Valeria’s breath caught in her throat with horror just thinking of the idea of the butchery a man could inflict. “Never the less, he’d taken your Mother from me, & I wanted that estate so desperately. If I couldn’t have that estate, then he didn’t deserve to live his newfound undead life. So I burned him, & the corpse of your Mother. It’s not Catholic but neither is a head next to hors d’ouerves.” Dracula tutted. He was surprised to find no reaction from the elderly woman, who gaze was firmly planted on the wood deck. “Valeria?” he reached up to take hold of her chin, raising it to meet his gaze.
“I know now, & I think it is time for me to leave. I’m a Lady, & a lady knows when it is time to leave, Count Dracula. You are right. There is no escaping you, certainly not with this body of water surrounding us.” Valeria looked around the pair of them, and shockingly again, she looked at peace. She stretched out her hand to him. “Take me back to that night. Let me see her once last time.”
Dracula curled down, and pressed a kiss to her fragile aged hand, a trigger he used to bring the memory of her birthday back to her. She was young again, beaming, and bursting with love for Abbott. The party was all about her. Her Mother stood at the edge of the ballroom, the diamonds on her neck sparkling in the light, a beacon, a lighthouse, her guiding home. As they twirled on the floor, she hadn’t expected to feel so tired so soon, and in a great deal of pain to match. Dracula had dipped the young girl, and his lips kissed at her neck, as though a form of apology was due to her after all these years, and met her gaze one final time. “Valeria, Goodbye.” he hissed to her.
“Goodbye, Count Dracula.” her eyes were dreamy. Then gone. Gone. She was gone. At rest as much as one could under the grip & tooth of the vampire.
Keep the candles burning in those darkest of nights; for evil prowls the world on Halloween.
