At the Pitiful Hour
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse while Night's black agents to their preys do rouse."
-William Shakespeare
Macbeth
Chapter One
The sun inched its way across the heavens before finally beginning to droop down beneath the horizon, like the head of some great primeval beast being laid to rest. A soft amber glow was diffused through the gathering grey clouds of the twilight sky and onto the tangled forests and rolling countryside below.
Radu observed this celestial dance with mounting trepidation, like all the people of Brasov he had learnt to fear the coming of night, for he knew what came with it. In this part of the world it was unwise to walk too late.
He had taken the risk in order to visit his wife's resting place in the cemetery outside town. According to tradition a deceased loved one must be brought flowers and other gifts on the anniversary of their death. For the past three years Radu and his two daughters had done this diligently, but this year it was different. Esmerelda, his youngest, had not returned home from Paris where she was studying, even though he had received a letter (Radu was one of the few villagers who could read) confirming that she would indeed be back in time. Radu didn't know what to think, this was very unlike her and worry gnawed incessantly at him. It could be hazardous for a woman to travel alone through these parts and he shuddered to think of her in any trouble.
Himself and his other daughter Anca had waited and waited in the hopes she would arrive, but to no avail. As the day wore on they decided they could remain no longer and departed at late evening. Well aware of the danger they'd resolved to make this a swift trip and aimed to return before sundown.
It would be best to hasten things along, Radu thought to himself as he knelt down and placed a holy candle atop the loose soil of the grave. A simple wooden cross was all that marked the location of his wife's remains, and it was on this that he hung a set of rosary beads.
Anca was to the left with her head bowed in prayer, the ghost of a single tear in her eye. Radu however was unemotional; he had never been particularly fond of Catalin. It was true he had held affection for her, but it wasn't love, and if truth be told Radu considered his marriage one of convenience. He had observed this annual ritual mainly for the benefit of his daughters. Nevertheless after their mother's death a certain distance between Radu and his children had developed. Esmerelda had gone to France and Anca while polite, was aloof and detached.
Initially Radu stood away respectfully while his daughter prayed, but then began pacing back and forth as his impatience mounted.
"Hurry up!" he hissed finally.
Anca ignored him.
Seething, Radu was about to raise a hand to strike her when at long last she blessed herself and set a bunch of wild orchids down beside the candle.
"Good, now let's get moving" he said and began striding briskly back towards their horse and cart as Anca followed in his wake.
The graveyard was located on a remote hillside a few miles outside the village and was small, sparse and enclosed by a fence made of rotting timber, discoloured with age. There were a few decaying and cracked stone tombs, but the majority of the space was taken up by a multitude of cheap pauper's graves, these had no names, just a crudely made wooden cross driven into the soil to mark the burial site.
It was an eerie place to be, even during the day.
The buzzards would often circle overhead as if they could sense the aura of death this location exuded, and through the valleys of this desolate region the wind howled ominously, like the screams of the damned.
The whole place reeked of neglect and decay.
The pair made their way to the front gate which was so ravaged by termites and years of exposure to wind, rain, and hail that it could scarcely open and instead tended to simply hang limply on its rusted hinges. Radu shoved it aside and walked over to where they'd left the horse and cart. Their horse was a scrawny specimen, pure white in colour named Costeliv, and the cart was a somewhat flimsy looking thing, made of wood with two large spindly wheels. There was space behind the two small seats for storing farming equipment (though that was empty now) and some dirty grey cloth over the roof and parted at the front that gave the occupants some shelter from the elements. He heaved himself up into his seat and Anca sprang lithely up beside him. A few minutes later and the graveyard was left behind, Radu was glad to see the back of it, he hated going there. The way he saw it, that place belonged to the dead, and the living had little cause to intrude. Hoping they hadn't wasted too much time already, Radu drove the horse hard, setting off at a fast gallop, with the reins gripped in taut fingers in a desperate race.
They thundered along the shabby and narrow dirt road, while the shadowy forest loomed over them on either side. An odd stillness had fallen over the woods, and the only sound to be heard was the pounding of hooves on the dusty ground.
Radu glanced over to Anca; she was young and slim, a little taller than her sister with dark, almond-shaped eyes and a mane of chestnut hair that spilled down over her shoulders. Presently her delicate features were marred by an expression of angst as she regarded the suns slow, inexorable descent.
Radu leaned over intending to reassure her that they would make it in time, and it was then that disaster struck.
The horse tripped over a medium sized stone jutting out of the earth and because of the breakneck pace they were travelling, crashed headfirst to the ground. Radu who was still gripping the bridle tightly was pulled out of his seat and also hit the dirt. Landing hard on his shoulder, he bounced slightly and rolled over to the roadside.
Anca jumped down and rushed to his aid,
"Father!
Are you all right?"
Winded by the impact, it took him a while to respond.
"I'm fine, I'm fine" he grunted.
Radu returned slowly to his feet with a grimace and began brushing dust off his faded and rough sheepskin tunic.
"Are you sure?
That was quite a fall", persisted Anca.
"Really, it's nothing, just a few bruises.
I'm more concerned about her", said Radu gesturing to the horse.
Radu bent down to examine her. She had landed awkwardly and still lay on the ground, apparently unable to stand. The poor creature was squirming slightly and whinnying in pain.
"Come on now, easy girl", murmured Radu, gently running a hand through her silvery mane in an effort to soothe the animal. He winced when he saw the source of her distress.
One of the horse's front legs was clearly fractured, and a bad break it was too. A jagged shard of bone protruded through the knee joint, Radu shook his head,
"We're not going to move her anytime soon.
I can do nothing for her here."
Anca stood beside him, nervously wringing her hands together, by now not even the merest sliver of daylight remained, and in its place the oppressive weight of darkness reigned overhead.
"What are we going to do?" she asked in a hushed whisper, as if afraid someone might overhear them.
"Now don't panic, let me think for a moment," as he said this Radu appeared composed, but that was but a façade assumed for the sake of his daughter.
He knew this was a very grave situation they'd found themselves in, and inwardly he was terrified.
"All right, I'll go back to the village for help.
You wait here.
I used to hunt around here, so I know a few shortcuts and hidden paths."
Anca was unconvinced,
"Why can't I just go with you?"
"You'll slow me down.
Anyway more people means more noise, and we really don't want to be…detected," as he said this Radu threw an apprehensive look at the waiting forest.
"I'm not staying here alone," insisted Anca, her eyes widening in fear.
"You'll do as you're told!" snapped Radu.
"We're wasting time here," he continued heatedly.
Anca seeing there was no arguing with her father returned sulkily to the cart.
Radu stared after her for a few seconds, not wanting to leave his daughter on such a sour note. He would've liked to impart some words of comfort before he left, but could find none. With a sigh he set off into the forest, hoping he could keep his bearings in the darkness and make it through to the village.
A thick canopy of leaves blotted out the sky and permitted only a faint glimmer of moonlight to shine through below. With this as his only source of illumination Radu could only barely make out the dark, indistinct shapes of the trees with their hanging boughs and twisted limbs. A cool breeze whispered through the branches, making them sway rhythmically. It had rained earlier and the thick, musty smell of damp soil hung in the air. Normally teeming with life the forest had subsided into a curious silence, and save for Radu struggling through the brush and the hooting of a distant owl, it was quiet as a crypt. He blundered through the dimness, trying his utmost to make as little noise as possible but it was impossible to stifle the crackling of dead leaves or the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. Radu continued like this for he didn't know how long. With minimal light and depending mainly on half remembered memories of a youth spent hunting these woods, he came to the realisation that he was lost.
Panic seized him.
Could he even go back the way he came?
Not likely, the roadside had been left behind long ago.
In desperation Radu continued on in what he thought, no hoped was the direction of the village. All pretence of stealth abandoned he crashed recklessly through the foliage. After leaping over a withered tree stump and stumbling through a particularly dense thicket he found what he was looking for.
Breathing heavily from his exertions, Radu allowed himself a smile of relief as he regarded the worn old trail. It was nearly swallowed by the undergrowth, but that didn't matter to Radu. This trail led to the village and he was certain it would be his and his daughter's salvation.
At top speed Radu followed the trail, reflecting that they might just get out of this unscathed, though it was true that some deeply troubling events had transpired recently around the village of Brasov. There had been reports of grave robbing, and while it was not uncommon to find small animals and livestock dead, all blood drained from their veins, these attacks had happened with increasing regularity over the last few months. Then abruptly they had ceased and given way to the most disturbing occurrence. An old hermit known only as Arcos had been found dead outside his own small cabin in the hills. The corpse was hideously mutilated; its hands, nose and ears had been crudely sawn off and there were bite marks all around the neck and face as if he had been mauled by some rabid animal. It appeared he had been dragged outside the house, then killed. The cabin door had been bashed in and perhaps most tellingly of all, the crucifix that adorned it had been hurled aside. Radu knew that shouldn't have been possible, the sign of the cross was supposed to keep evil of that nature away.
No one had bore Arcos any ill will, for he was a kindly old man who mostly kept to himself. Needless to say his savage murder had shocked the village to its very core, and most were afraid to leave their homes if they could avoid it. The killing became the topic of many a fearful gossiping amongst the townsfolk. No one seemed to know what it all meant, though the local priest, Father Gavril, had intoned darkly that a lack of faith had caused these terrible happenings. But it was best not to dwell on these things, thought Radu with a shudder that had little to do with the chilly wind that swept through the forest.
Instead Radu considered whether he'd done the right thing in having Anca remain behind. He wasn't sure, but he did know for certain that she wasn't the best person to have around in a crisis. At least this way he wouldn't have to deal with any hysterics. A burning stitch in his side compelled him to slow his pace somewhat as he entered a clearing.
Radu couldn't shake the unpleasant sensation that he was being watched, and it did his nerves no good to know that the dense woods could conceal any number of observing eyes. Stepping forward, his scuffed and worn boot sank into a deep puddle, thoroughly drenching his foot.
Radu extricated it with a curse.
Lit up by the silvery moonlight he could make out his own reflection gazing back at him from the puddle, distorted by ripples. He was a short, stocky man with unkempt curly grey hair and a generous amount of stubble. His face was weather-beaten and wrinkled, with a prominent nose. His hands were rough and callused from too many years of hard work and he looked every one of his forty seven years.
Just then Radu heard a slight rustle behind him.
He whirled around in alarm to see a shadowy figure emerging from the murkiness of the forest into the clearing. Dressed all in black he blended almost totally into the darkness and only the paleness of his bald head, hands and face stood out against the backdrop of the woods. The man advanced steadily towards Radu, who felt a profound terror such as he had never known course through him. Eyes wide with fright, his mind screamed at him to flee but his legs were rooted to the spot. With trembling fingers Radu fumbled for his rosary beads but remembered they were left hanging on his wife's burial marker, probably even now swaying in the night time breeze.
His voice sounding shrill and unnatural he began rapidly reciting the Lord's Prayer.
"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name-"
The distance between the two grew ever shorter.
Radu's breath came in ragged gasps and he could barely find enough air to continue.
"-thy kingdom come thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread-"
The man was very close now.
"and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil."
The newcomer stopped right in front of him.
"Are you finished?"
Backing up, Radu met his eyes for as long as he dared.
He had never met him before, yet like all the villagers he knew who he was.
From an early age they had all been told tales of the monster that terrorised their lands, prolonging its infernal life by quenching an unholy thirst for blood. Though he looked like a man, and perhaps he had even been one long ago, now he was a revenant who preyed on the weak to satisfy his wicked desires.
"Please, Count Dracula I beg of you, have mercy", implored Radu.
He didn't want to die, not like this.
"Your God may have mercy", sneered Dracula, "but I do not."
At this Radu shrank back, like a frightened child.
Dracula seemed to enjoy his distress.
Knowing he didn't have long left, the words poured out of Radu in a frantic tumble.
He was almost babbling, a surge of pleas and promises spilled from his lips.
But to no avail.
Dracula's arms shot out, holding Radu's throat in a grip of steel.
Mere inches away from him, Radu could see the pointed fangs visible over his tormentor's smirk.
"Please, I have a family, my daughter-"
Abruptly he was released and Radu crumpled to the ground in a heap.
Massaging his bruised neck, he looked up at the Count in disbelief.
A profound relief washed over him,
"Oh thank you, thank you Count Dracula!"
"No."
Radu instantly ceased his grovelling.
Dracula bestowed upon him a smile that held all the malice of a fallen angel's smirk.
"Give me your daughter, then I will spare you."
"What?" returned Radu incredulously.
The very idea was absurd, he thought to himself.
How could he turn over his daughter, his own flesh and blood to this monster, this fiend?
What father could even consider such a bargain, even to save his own life?
And yet…
No, he would rather die than succumb to that.
"Decide soon, for patience is not one of my virtues."
Radu gave a sigh of resignation,
"No, I'll never-", he began but broke off when his gaze met the twin voids that were Fontescu's eyes.
Something about them unnerved him terribly.
Those eyes were bereft of the faintest shred of human decency or compassion.
In that black abyss he saw Hell.
In that split second, staring at his own death, he knew that he would do anything to avoid it.
In thrall to utmost fear he found his lips forming new words.
"You can have her, just please don't kill me!" he begged.
Hunched on the ground, with the tears rolling down his face Radu knew he made for a pathetic sight.
His own cowardice and selfishness disgusted him, but in some deep, dark corner of his heart he was glad to be alive.
And that was the worst part of all.
Dracula regarded the broken figure at his feet,
"Good" he said simply, with the satisfaction evident in his voice.
Dracula hauled the sobbing wreck up,
"Take me to her" he snarled.
Mutely, and on legs that felt like jelly Radu started back on the way to the road.
It was like a dream, the forest and the trees around him passed by in a haze, as if viewed through a thick fog.
Without conscious thought his feet kept carrying him onward, as Fontescu stalked somewhere behind him.
The pair walked in silence, but Radu's mind raced.
Maybe I can make a break for it, that way no one need die, he thought.
Of course a failed dash for freedom would mean facing Dracula's vengeful wrath.
Radu took a deep shuddering breath, and steeled his resolve.
It was a risk he'd have to take.
All I need is an opening, he told himself over and over as they continued through the woods.
His hands were cold from the night's chilled embrace, and he flexed his fingers in anticipation, ready to seize his window of opportunity.
Radu looked around at the army of trees standing like silent sentinels and the gargantuan silhouette of a fallen log to the left.
It was this that informed him just how close they were to the road.
It was now or never.
Radu kept walking.
He knew as they approached the edge of the forest and the dusty roadside, that it wasn't for a lack of openings that he didn't run.
If he was honest with himself he knew it was because he couldn't bear to face the Count's fury again.
He cursed his hesitation and weakness.
It was too late now to do anything…
Except what he had promised.
They emerged onto the road and Radu's horse and cart came into view.
The scene was much as he'd left it, Costeliv was still slumped inert on the ground, and Anca was perched atop the cart.
In the darkness her white dress shone iridescently, like a flare in the night.
She looked on edge and was scanning the forest for any sign of movement.
Seeing her father, she clambered down and made her way towards him.
Then she caught sight of his companion and stopped dead in her tracks.
Anca didn't speak, the look of betrayal and shock in her eyes told Radu more than mere words ever could.
"I'm sorry" he blurted, unable to look at her.
Then, in a flash Dracula was upon her, hands around her throat.
She tried to resist, and struggled valiantly to escape his grasp.
But the Count was strong, and the blows she landed had little effect.
Just as ineffective were the pleas and cries for mercy.
Dragging her roughly by the hair Dracula forced her to follow him into the cart; he turned and smiled at Radu before drawing the ragged canvas behind them.
The whole ordeal had lasted only a few seconds, but Radu knew he would be haunted for the rest of his life by the look of abject horror on his daughter's face and the accusing gaze she had directed at him.
Radu held his head in his arms, and willed his ears to go deaf to the screams of his daughter, that now filled the night-time sky.
This was originally going to be the first chapter of a story I was going to write, but I got discouraged and so here it is anyway.
If I get time and I can force myself to get motivated I might continue with it but I can't make any promises.