Stoker Loves Gothetta

A/N - After writing this story, I noticed that despite how popular this series is, there was no category to submit for the title. Thank you employees of for making that happen – also for any of you who wrote in asking for the same. Happy reading!

A lightning bolt struck in the dismal looking clouds high above the Vampire School castle –a ghastly and lonely set of stone towers that held secretively – a teaching place for young blood sucking monsters.

Inside, old Professor Oxsblood wrote notes on chalk, tapping away at the surface as he talked about on and on about the history of hypnosis and how it came to be. Hum drum , they had already learned the skill; however this was now what the old vampire delightedly announced an advanced class, one that would take weeks of exams, studying and field work.

Klot childishly scribbled his notes in crayon on lined paper. His large, ill formed letters barely made coherent sense –meanwhile the rubbish imagery that polluted the rest of it.

Oskar sat attentively, while Ashley, half heartily blinked, not able to write his own notes as a pile of ash, and would have to wait for someone to copy his notes.

Stoker wouldn't do it. Not this time. He had better things to do.

Gothetta had left on holiday—visiting family days ago—leaving Stoker alone with the guys, though seemingly nice at first, lacked her charm and beauty. She was the only pleasant thing to look at in the school besides himself, why shouldn't he complain?

More than that – more than he'd like to admit – he missed the girl. Stoker ran a hand over his hair and let his eyes half drop, looking away from what everyone else was doing and resumed his work. Stray marks, in particular stick figures, one with a long magenta wolf tail on her head and stray bangs, the other a black cape, happily smiling in a scribbled grave yard. Stoker mused over his first attempt to woo the girl—his failing to protect her from the old vampire hunter as that ugly troll ogre had – and let out a quiet sigh.

He continued to copy what was on the board when he saw his paper grow dark and a hovering shadow turn the air cold around him. Stoker dropped his pencil and without moving his chin, looked up to see a looming head master glaring red violent eyes at him.

"Stoker…" The headmaster called warningly. His black jacket like coal soot and top hat elegantly showing his sharp features as a wolf happily drooled around his ankles – panting like a tamed dog. The vampire boy merely stared and began to look around desperately. Did he miss something? All eyes were on him. Oh yes, he surely must have. If had a heart, his pressure would have climbed seeing all the eyes on him. "Come with me, boy." The headmaster called to him – and like a puppet on strings—a sleep walker, the boy carefully met with him. Down the stairs they went and out the door.

Little was said as they walked to his office. The wolf happily tapped his claws step by step by his master's side in a seemingly endless corridor. Stoker gulped his spit in the dry air and dared not look at the headmaster. If anyone he was afraid to confront it was him, surely the most powerful vampire in all the area – after all he was their headmaster –was he not?

The office door opened and the tall vampire sat at one end of the desk, while the short stature Stoker uneasily took his place on the opposite side. The man folded his hands and blinked, a cruel look on his face, yet a quiet haughty and luring voice slightly echoed in the room. "Stoker, of the past few days, you've been unusually unproductive. These last exams have been less than your best, and not even biting practice has kept your attention."

Stoker blinked and disgracefully looked away.

"If you don't change your performance, I cannot say things will look well on you this semester." The Count rubbed his chin. "But by looking at your records, you can afford your current grades; however don't let this become a permanent change. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Stoker quietly replied. With a look of depleted pride, a tiredness of sorts, he folded both hands on his lap and without protest looked up at the Count – a bit diminished –although the vampire couldn't put his finger on it, pathetic.

"You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Stoker quietly helped himself out of his seat and sulked out of the room.

"Keep an eye on him for me, boy." He patted the wolf on the ears, and it replied with a happy whine.

***

What was all that about anyway? Stoker mentally whined. He had been no different, just tired, but no different. His grades were slipping? Oh, so very wise to pull him from class, right in the middle of his class time. That'd surely win him a passing score.

He didn't bother to acknowledge Oskar and Leechy, who were fussing over something and grinning from fang to fang. Stoker didn't care. Bunch of wallies anyway.

"Hey, Stoker!" Osker called out, "you're quite the artist. I think I'm a little jealous!" He laughed. Leechy, the blonde vampire boy simply snorted, although usually this sort of thing was beneath him, it was over Stoker after all. And what a good laugh it was!

"What? What are you going on about?" Stoker stomped in between them and without batting an eye, saw the drawing of him and Gothetta. "You nib nosing brats!"

"I think it's a pretty picture." Klot smiled innocently.

"Nah! Makes me want to puke!" Ashley spat. "Should have drawn yourselves in a room!" That only made the older boys laugh harder.

"Stake you! Stake you all!" Stoker grumbled and snatched the paper out their hands. With a half lidded glance, he sheepishly tucked the paper under his cape and ran off to the library. He needed away from the madness.

Meanwhile, a pair of red glowing eyes haunted silently from the shadow's unnoticed.

LATER

Klot wheeled Ashley about in a carriage, mindfully thinking about Stoker.

"Why did Stoker run away?" The boy sadly looked down at his friend. He didn't understand it all. Being the youngest out of the bunch, Klot didn't catch on to the fang-busting provided by the other boys. He really liked Stoker's drawing.

Ashley simply rolled his eyes. In complaint, he puffed about looking back at the little tike. "It's because he's an idiot in thinking he has a chance with Gothetta."

"He must really like her a lot. I think that's nice."

"Yeah well she can't stand him. So he can forget it." The ash pile replied cruelly. Not that he had any stake with her at all, just that it was plain as night. Crystal clear. For what the ash pile lacked in physical autonomy he observed quite much. He made it his business to know everyone else's.

"But what if he can't, Ashley?" Klot frowned, innocent sorrow in his voice.

"Then Stoker will forever be miserable and so will poor Gothetta if he shouldn't leave her be!"

Klot didn't say much in return and with a worrisome look, pushed on down the hall.

"Laughing at me like that! Bah!" Stoker slammed the cover of a text down hard – puffs of dust scattered about – and he pushed the thing away. He couldn't concentrate anyway. Not with those fools going on about him like that. Oh why did he have to doodle such thing? Besides, what did they know that he didn't? Surely they had known he had the beautiful vampire in his sights. He took every chance to make it perfectly clear. Gothetta was his woman. Were they looking for something to rouse him over?

He felt ill.

What was coming over him? He felt tired and weak lately. Food was hardly a matter to him anymore and he couldn't bring himself to fly much. If he kept this up, he'd grow fat and out of shape. Maybe he ought to try a few laps later on, but right now all that felt good was sleep and day dreaming.

It was a beautiful night sky – the Milky Way shining brilliantly overhead—and two lovers shared a stroll down the valley. Just before the looming shadow of tree line, a whispering stream stretched on forever while the end met down a quiet waterfall.

A young, fully grown and dashing vampire with his hair slick back, skin as pale as the moon appeared from the clearing. By hand, he guided a beautiful young lady through the grasses. She, a maiden vampire and just as fair, lifted her silky maroon dress above the ankles –and with careful steps—prowled beside him, a look of love and girlish smile. She raised a hand to his face and stroked him. The man –a gentleman—took her hand in his and kissed it tenderly – as warm as a fresh bite.

Far away, red eyes appeared in the darkness, menacing and unblinking, they studied the couple. It didn't interfere, however observed the scene before it with care.

Stoker woke up startled—realizing he had fallen asleep at the desk—noted the night was growing darker, and to his side lit an oil lamp. It made eerie shadows on the wall, and for fun, the boy decided to play.

With his sharp hand, he created a bat that flew freely in the wind but not out of control. It flitted around aimlessly until another—as Stoker used his free hand—another bat, good company, flew beside him.

His throat felt tight and face flush. Too warm for a vampire – so much so that he felt nearly living. With a weak groan, he shut off the lamp and lumbered out of the room.

***
Around the corner, Stoker was met with jeers from the boys –all except Klot—to which he ignored. The lines in his face grew deeper and he scowled hard at the floor. Tiny foot steps clicked behind him and he was politely stopped by a couple of easy yanks at the cape. Little Klot stood behind him wide eyes bright and smile cheerful as ever. He sweetly spoke to the troubled boy. "Stoker, I really liked your picture of you and Gothetta." With that, Stoker swung away from him growling curses under his breath.

Klot winced frightened.

"Take it is easy, Romeo." Oskar smiled.

"Get garlic stuffed in the bum, human-lover!" Stoker bit back. Oskar simply blinked in surprise –lacking anything as so witty to say.

And with that, winning a verbal competition of insults, Stoker walked away.

Quietly, a well trained wolf pattered off away to his master.

During the night, the head master had called for a student meeting in his office. All but Stoker was made aware, which was no matter to everyone else who fidgeted in their seats, frightened of the Count's intentions. What was going on?

"I'm sure all of you have bore witness to the change in Stoker."

"Yeah, he's angrier than usual." Leechy replied.

"He s-scared me." Klot sobbed.

"What's his problem? Usually he can take a joke." Oskar reasoned.

"Sometimes the heart can make a vampire act out of character – perhaps taken away or consumed by something or someone." The headmaster replied. When he saw the confused faces, he bluntly spoke.

"Our dear Stoker is lovesick."

The Count tapped his cane on the floor, and incidentally a flash of lightning lit up the room. With that, all the children stood in attention. Stoker of all vampires – love sick of all things – how could this be?

"I knew it!" Klot exclaimed happily, standing on his chair, and threw his arms out in cheer. "I knew he missed pretty Gothetta!" He beamed. "Stoker is never himself when she goes away."

"Which is exactly why you will not tease," The Count spoke warningly – and they all looked to each other in horror – "mock, or trouble him or else you all will be doing kitchen duty for the next 6 months!" He glowered at them in a way that seemed to echo through their soulless bodies. "A vampire's love is genuine. That is something to honor." He paused. "Understood?"

A volley of replies to came to authority and the great master dismissed them.

Shortly after dinner, Stoker had been called to the Count's office. No matter to him. He barely ate more than a few bites. At the very least, his stomach wouldn't quiver full with food.

Taking his time, he tread beside the wall as he make his way. Since having it out with the guys, someone probably squealed about his temper.
Probably going to get it for suggesting his nephew shove garlic in the nether region – the thought of such a thing made the vampire boy snicker as his old self would do – but he quickly sobered knowing his punishment would be nothing to laugh about.

Stoker need not knock on the door; his presence was expected and given away by the watchful wolf.

"Come in, Stoker." The Count's voice called.

"Yes, sir."

Taking the seat in front, Stoker folded his hands together and rummaged through his mind. Should he apologize? No sense in incriminating himself –after all he didn't know what he was in for exactly. It was all very strange. Déjà vu for the present moment made his mind wander to other things. Then suddenly, the Count spoke. "So tell me, how are things with you, boy? Do you feel our last talk made some change with you?"

Stoker could not reply, but looked close to nearly being ill again, and the Count paid close attention to this.

"I don't know, sir." Stoker covered his face in his hands. He released the grasp and sighed. "I can't eat, I can barely sleep, and I just can't think straight anymore." As each complaint was confessed, the boy sang a miserable tone with every word. Fed up – as one might say.

The Count put his hand to his chin, as he had before, and nodded. He seemed oddly nurturing today. "I understand, Stoker." He replied.

"You do?"

"Why, yes, I have a great deal of responsibility. At times, even I can feel overwhelmed." The Count went on. "From your fellow student evaluations, the vampire's conference in London coming up next month, and Gothetta coming back this weekend, I have a great deal on my mind." With that he could see that the little vampire boy had perked up a bit. "When I feel the need to clear my head, sometimes a good fly around the castle is just what I need."

"You don't say?" Stoker sat up right, beaming at the news. "A fly around the castle, eh?" He shut his eyes happily. "I must try your method, sir. Thank you for sharing it with me." He grinned mischievously – back to his old self.

"Very good then. You are excused."

Stoker didn't need to be asked twice, and he left with a cheerful laughter.

The Count watched him—hiding his amusement and turned to the slobbering canine.

"Too easy." He remarked patting the wolf on the head. The animal panted and wagged his tail excited as a mutt could be.

***

Oskar, in the quiet of the coffin room- where they all slept, sat on his resting place allowing his feet to dangle. He thought about Stoker, about the many times the creep had made humor about his love for the human Sunshine. Though he knew he heard a similar song from Gothetta, coming from Stoker, it was an insult. However, he thought again and reminded himself that despite Stoker's shortcomings, he had kept the clandestine relationship a secret. If the Count found out, Oskar would be expelled or perhaps banished.

Frowning, he brushed his bushy bangs away from his face and shrugged off Stoker's words. They were still friends after all. When he was about to get up and head to the library, a sudden creaking of the door snapped Oskar to full attention and he glanced up. Surely it was Stoker looking for private retreat. He'd at least honor his friend's desire to be alone. When the vampire walked in, Oskar was taken by surprise that it wasn't the brooding Stoker, but his Uncle.

"Uncle, what's going on?" Oskar found himself silenced by the great power of The Count and immediate relaxed back down on his coffin.

"I think you'll find our dear Stoker," The Count spoke, "is no longer heart broken." He turned his attention to the window. Outside, there was a happy laughter and the sound of a swooping creature.

"I can't believe it!" Oskar laughed. "He's cured!" He watched the young Stoker doing wonderful acrobatic maneuvers through the sky – a wide toothy grin on his face. That vampire didn't have a care in the world. "How did you do it, Uncle?" Oskar beamed.

The Count nodded with a slight smile, very slight. One that made his white teeth gleam. "Let's just say, I received a very important message today." He paused. "It seems Gothetta will return soon." With a wink, he left Oskar who nodded back in understanding and smiled.

"Guess that means Stoker will be back to his old self." He laughed. Making his way out to leave, he took one last glance at his friend in the sky, shook his head and shut the door behind him.