Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dracula, much as I would have liked to be the genius that created him, inspiring thousands of vampire books, movies, even a comic… In fact, I don't even completely own the character of Anne: she is based on Elizabeth, who is the work of Neopets role-player, and my good friend, chocoholic4ever121. And no, I don't own Neopets, either.
A. N. – Please don't review if you don't have anything specific to say. I want to improve, and I need to know exactly what is good or bad about my writing.
Anne clambered over a moss-covered rock, shiny in the early afternoon light, one of many boulders going up the hillside to the castle in the distance. Her skirt was streaked with green and brown, but she didn't care. The wind tousled her brown-black hair affectionately, and eyes looked out on the world. They were as startlingly green as the moss she rested fair hands on. She wasn't pretty, not like some of the other girls in the small village, partly because she refused to spend hours brushing her hair, mending her clothes, and polishing her shoes. Or perhaps she refused to do those things because she believed herself to be not beautiful enough.
She climbed onwards to the castle, keeping in mind Adrian's dare: to go in, and bring back something to show she'd been there. But she planned to not only accomplish that, but to do something extraordinary, something that would keep Adrian and the rest of the village boys from mocking her ever again. Fear hardly entered her mind: the Count was the legacy of the oldest people in the village, a shadow that could not stand up to the light of youth. Anne snorted derisively as she thought about the superstition of the adults.
She reached the castle, and stood up straight to catch her breath and take in the view. The village seemed so tiny from this vantage, as if the occupants were merely dolls, nothing more, living out their shallow lives without thinking, without rising above it all. As her thudding heart slowed, she turned once again towards her goal. The large wooden door…It was some wood she had never seen before: too red… rose like a tidal wave before her. She walked up to it and knocked, then laughed at herself for her foolishness. As if there were an occupant! She pushed the door open, and gasped as she saw the opulent furnishings. Dark blue carpets on polished wooden floors flowed up an elaborately carved staircase, and candles in the walls were lit. She didn't pause to think that the surroundings were dust-free, and the candles still lit at the tops, where they had been newly lit.
She forged on through the castle, a strange fear oppressing her mind like fog over the ocean. She paused to collect herself, leaning against the wall facing a colossal portrait of a fair, slender man, staring at what was presumably the painter with a breathtaking arrogance. It was difficult for Anne to believe that one person should be so confident that the world would bow to him, if only it were intelligent enough to do so. She chuckled, thinking how this man probably had grown old and ugly, and died in obscurity, arrogance unjustified. But what little trinket could she take... not steal, for things without an owner can't be stolen... She continued down the hallway.
As she walked, there was a sound of a gypsy fiddle.That was not so strange, they passed through occasionally, on their ceaseless travels. She followed it for lack of another guide through this increasingly strange place. She passed a small side table, and opened the small drawer. Inside was a locket, covered with the only coat of dust in the place. She smiled as she looked at it. It would do to convince Adrian. As she turned to leave, the music faded, then stopped. Had she thought to turn around, she would have heard a small thump as the instrument was set down, and a figure turn the corner, tall, slim, and with an arrogant stare, illuminated by moonlight through the window at the end of the hallway.
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As she left, Anne realized that night had fallen while she was in the castle, and wondered that she had spent so much time there. It hadn't felt like very long at all... The warm fires of the village beckoned, and she ran to them.
"... so don't you ever call me 'just a girl' again!" she finished triumphantly to Adrian, showing him the locket she had found. Adrian was not her brother, but the two were almost siblings, they had spent so much time together since infancy.
"You're just telling stories," accused Adrian, although his eyes were convinced. He clicked open the heart-shaped necklace with his fingernail. Then, suddenly, he turned ashen. From the locket, he looked up at Anne's face, warm and soft in the firelight, then back to the locket. Then, he handed it to her, still open.
"It's... me," she said in wonder. But at the same time, it wasn't her. This girl was fair, almost to an impossible degree, and had an unearthly beauty. She blushed. "Never mind," she said, quickly flipping it shut. "It was a trick of the light. I was wrong."
Guessing his friend was upset, Adrian changed the subject. "So did you see the monster?"
Anne laughed, calmer. "He had green hair and rotten teeth, and he smelled like Grandmother. Worse."
"Is that even possible?" asked Adrian quizzically, eyebrow arching in skepticism.
"No, I guess not."
"Well, I'll just have to go up and be the judge! I solemnly swear to impartially judge these honorable participants, Grandmother and..."
Anne interrupted, "We'll go together. Tomorrow. Now get out, I want to get some sleep!"
"Well, then, princess, get your beauty sleep, for tomorrow we visit your royal castle." replied Adrian with a bow and a quick leap out the door before she could smack him.