Renfield: A Fly Within The Spider's Web
Part one: Thoughts of the Fly.
I sat so still within the padded cell, a single bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I could not wipe my brow you see, for I had been rather... naughty, and was bound in a retched straight waistcoat. My arms hurt so badly as they were tied about my own waist in an awfully uncomfortable manner. All I had done was try to kill an orderly, I had nothing against the man, but his face was so blushed with the blood, nay the life, that churned within his veins. I needed that life, I wanted what my master has, immortality, even at the expense of another's blood.
Things seemed so unclear to me now, sometimes I can remember how I was before I met master, and at other times I feel like a beast, a puppet whose strings rest within the hands of him. Sometimes I forget who I am and what my purpose to my master is. Maybe I am a madman, a maniac who feasts on insects and sparrows, vomiting the feathers and blood, thinking I have lost life as I do so. But if I am a madman, it is his fault... my master, Dracula.
I can barely even remember how I met with him, how our lives crossed paths. If my psyche tells me right, I was on business, though how can I even validate that when I sit here in a straight waistcoat, the corpses of insects resting within me. But it is all I know, so I can only think that it is true. Yes... a business trip, though for what business I cannot quite remember. I traveled to his castle by means of his private carriage, the driver spoke not to me but kept his silence as we drove along the cobblestone roads. I distinctly remember holding a cross to my breast, speaking the Lord's prayer as we drove up the winding road leading to his dank timeworn mansion. I guess I was a religious man... but all I know now is my master, The Lord evades my thoughts now.
My mind's eyes were blinded as I heard screaming coming from down the corridor, either a new patient for Dr. Seward to play with had arrived...or someone was having yet another fit. My nights are plagued with screams of maniacs. Sometimes its comfortaing. I guess that alone proves my insanity....to be comforted by the screaming and wailing of those with the mental equilibrium of a mere child...or a killer, in some of the cases. I watched as a fly landed on the floor, it moved so quickly, I could feel its life like you can feel the heat of someone's physique. I wanted to drown in life, to become immortal like my master, he had promised me the gift of immortality, yet all I have received is the life of insects, rats, and sparrows. My stomach churned as I thought of those sparrows, I had devoured all six of them. The taste was awful, the blood seemed to coagulate within my mouth and the feathers and beaks were so hard to swallow. I was unable to keep their life within me, and I proceeded to vomit for two days. Insects were so much easier, so small but still a life nonetheless. My eyes followed the fly on the ground, if only I could get this binding straight waistcoat off.
I was interrupted yet again by that annoying screaming, it was so shrill...maybe a woman's voice? We had not many women in the asylum...I was scared to think what the rest of these ruffians might do to such a delicate thing. But women were the least of my thoughts, life...life was what I wanted, not to fulfill lustful desires.
(Next Chapter: The Arrival of Miss Jessica)