For Just A Moment
[disclaimer: no own Van Helsing
Night's shadow engulfed the sky and cast a blanket over Transylvania. The air was calm, but not comforting to the residents of the village. The mischievous wink of each star promised that death's cold hand would wrap around another innocent soul and smother it until it's essence leaked onto the village streets. Passage ways were sealed with a frightened touch and flames dimmed to a soft glow. The candles' skin melted in it's own dying passion, until it was as bitter as the night air. Spoken words were hushed so a prayer to the heavens above could be made; that they would survive another day in their mistrusting lives. The sprites of hell gazed upon them with empty bellies; they could never satisfy their quench for mortal blood.
The village shuddered at night's tender but sinister touch and quivered before it as night's sun rose higher into the bleak sky. A distant whisper warned them that soon enough he would be arriving to claim his monthly fill.
Dracula discontinued his pacing and leaned against the stone banister that overlooked the village. He blankly observed the candlelight that lit the near homes, and watched with disinterest as the glow flickered out. He drowned out the squabbling of his three concubine with a heavy sigh. Their resentment towards one another drifted past him in a blur of colorful words that had no meaning attached to them. His mind was distant, lost in a confused gale that took pleasure in distorting his thoughts until they were locked in a realm where time alone wasn't enough to overcome insanity.
The eldest of the three shattered his distance from them like glass with a gentle purr. "When are we to feast, master?" He fixated his eyes on the stone before him and remained silent. They knew better than to disturb him when he was deep in thought. "My love, what is the matter?" She approached him uneasily, her steps were gentle against the stone. A delicate breeze lifted the ends of her raven hair, pulling them the opposite way of her step. "What is it that has filled your heart with such sorrow?" she asked, tenderly placing her hand on his shoulder. Dracula blinked at the stone, but said nothing. The air around them grew tense in wait for a response from their master.
His brides did not understand nor would ever recognize the sorrow that pulled him into a spiraling depression. All he sought was a new passion that was not restricted to grief and wrath. But once the devil's hand is shaken, even with the slightest uncertainty, one cannot go back. Dracula was ensnared in a contract that would haunt him until the day he allowed himself to be overthrown. His pride had climbed upon a pedestal and would not tolerate an effortless defeat, so death's hand would wait many moon cycles until it was given the pleasure of departing his black soul from its empty husk.
His concubine affectionately squeezed his shoulder in attempt to bring him to his right state of mind. "Why do you continue to taunt us with your silence? What is it that constricts your heart and quiets your tongue?" Dracula gave a soft sigh, that he himself was unaware of the exhale.
"Let me no further spoil this pleasurable night. Drop your suspicions and do not wound your own mind by the lack of my speech. Come, we feast." He stepped effortlessly onto the balcony and in a sparrow dive, guided them into flight. His wings caught the air he was falling through, and pulled him up into the lustrous sky. The depression of his life's mistake slowly faded away into the abyss where most regretful memories join hands and hum the song of remorse.
His sudden lust for mortal blood beckoned to him in the tranquil night, like an infant bawled for the breast of his mother. The closer the sweet scent came to kissing his nose with it's temptations, the further away his yearning for a normal life drifted until he himself wasn't sure if those thoughts even existed. The only thought that lingered in his mind was now the sensation of his teeth breaking the flesh of a mortal and sucking away their warmth until it replenished his craving and perhaps more. Dracula was thinking like the true vampire that he was.
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[A/N: Please Review.