Juste burst into the black chapel of Dracula's castle. In the center of the chamber, atop the unholy altar, lay what must have been the coffin of the slumbering Dark Lord himself. Lydie was splayed across the lid of the structure, causing the loose fabric of her sleeves and dress skirt to lazily drape over the sides. The only sign of life in her unconscious form was her slowly rising and falling chest.
Maxim anxiously stood over the helpless damsel, clutching a ceremonial dagger in his fist. He gazed toward the arriving spectator with a psychotic grin on his face.
"I'm glad you made it, Juste. You're just in time to witness the bloodletting ritual."
Juste's eyes widened with horror as he instantly read Maxim's intent. Reality dictated he would never be able to cover the distance between the entrance of the chapel and the altar in time, but he had to make some attempt to save Lydie's life. He desperately stepped forward and tried to solve the crisis with diplomacy.
"Maxim, don't do it!"
Maxim ignored Juste's pleas and focused his attention on the spot just over Lydie's unshielded heart. Lifting the knife over his head in both hands, he triumphantly shouted.
"With this virgin's life, I shall achieve immortality!"
Just when all hope was lost and Maxim was on the precipice of becoming a murderer, something bizarre happened. Lydie's eyes fluttered open to reveal a pair of demonic red irises as a pair of glistening fangs extended over her lower lips. She violently reached upward and took Maxim by the neck. Her pink fingernails grew into small, sharpened claws as she sat up and caused her would-be killer to drop his dagger in shock. When she hopped to the floor and swiftly repositioned herself behind Maxim, he struggled against her grasp. He looked over his shoulder to his captor as he blurted the first impulsive question that came to his mind.
"What's going on?"
Despite her substantially smaller size, Lydie was somehow able to overpower Maxim and keep him locked in her arms. Her eyes narrowed deviously as she answered in a eerily soft tone.
"It's just as you said. This ritual requires a sacrifice, and you meet all the qualifications."
Before Maxim had even a second to react, Lydie brought a hand to his neck and slashed one of her deadly nails across his throat. What would have been his next words were delivered in an unsettling gurgling sound as an arch of blood sprayed from the wound and showered onto the coffin. When he feel limp and had bled to death, Lydie casually pushed him to the side. His corpse clumsily rolled down the short flight of stairs surrounding the altar before stopping.
As Juste remained petrified by what he had just seen, Lydie took the warm blood that now stained both of her palms and began carefully massaging it over her face. This unusual choice of cosmetic cream was quickly absorbed into her pores, causing her features to radiate with revitalized youth. When she was done, whatever other mess had wound up on her hands and the front of her white and black dress mysteriously faded from sight.
Lydie gazed down toward her own bosom and gave a disappointed frown. Then, as her stature remained the same, some unseen force caused her figure to slowly change to a more mature shape. It was just enough for a modest amount of cleavage to show from the opening in her blouse, and she quietly giggled before speaking to herself.
"That will do."
Finally, Lydie turned to her speechless onlooker and calmly spoke.
"I suppose you're waiting for an explanation."
As she continued speaking from her pulpit, she held her hand over her heart and gave a content sigh.
"Your friend thought he could become Count Dracula's host by sacrificing this poor girl. Unfortunately, he was too much of a fool to realize my remains were in this coffin."
Juste was awestruck. He still couldn't bring himself to fully comprehend what he had heard, and he responded in stilted speech as he came out of his crouched posture.
"Lydie…?"
Lydie offered a fanged smirk in subtle amusement. She lowered her voice when she corrected her guest.
"Elizabeth."
Seeing Juste was still baffled by her words, she knew she'd have to introduce herself more properly. An elegant smile crossed her lips as she tipped her head toward him.
"I'd prefer you to address me as Countess Elizabeth Bartley."
Juste gasped in disbelief. He recognized the name instantly, but it escaped his mind how one of his childhood friends could become the cursed vessel for one of Dracula's relatives. He was entrusted with destroying evil just as much as protecting the innocent, putting his very morals at ends.
Juste was also familiar with the fact this particular vampire had an affinity for eternal youth, humble prettiness, and young, female hostesses. It was obvious she wouldn't give up Lydie without a fight; one that would very likely result in destruction of her physical body. He didn't know what to do next.
At the same time Juste's mind swirled in conflicted feelings, Lydie began glossing through her own thoughts. Upon arriving at a particularly cheerful set of past memories, a friendly grin appeared on her face and she shifted her attention back to Juste.
"I see. She must have been very close to you."
The noblewoman tilted her head to the side as she cleverly considered how she would spend her new lease on life. As she began developing a scheme in the back of her mind, she spoke again toward Juste.
"You needn't worry about parting from her. If you lend me your obedience, perhaps I'll find some use for you."
Before she could do anything, however, she needed to complete her resurrection by feeding in her awakened form. Sensing her mortal guest would soon overcome his doubts and make a move against her, she decided she would take the initiative. With a coy look in her eyes, she faded from the altar in a cloud of mist.
Lydie's abrupt disappearance had a sobering effect on Juste. He rapidly turned his head from side to side, trying to predict where she would rematerialize. Before he saw anything, however, he could suddenly feel her slender arms embrace him from behind and her soft frame press lightly against his back.
Finding himself overwhelmed by her touch, Juste could do nothing to escape. He suffered an unexpected feeling of weariness as Lydie's fingertips curiously traced his physique through the front of his overcoat. At the same time, she stood on the toes of her leather boots and leaned forward so her nose brushed against his neck. Her nostrils gently flared before she purred in delight.
"Mmm… a full-blooded Belmont. I couldn't ask for a better breakfast."
A nervous expression appeared on Juste's face when it was clear what was coming next. He tried to turn his head toward Lydie as he made one final attempt to reach her humanity.
"Lydie, you've got to snap out of this!"
Lydie made no hesitation when she brushed away a curtain of Juste's long silver locks and provided herself with full access to the side of his neck. She whispered soothingly into his ear as she moved in for the kill.
"Don't be afraid, boy. Let your countess take care of you."
Juste was paralyzed the moment Lydie's fangs punctured his flesh. She closed her eyes and drained his lifeforce in tiny delicate sips, being careful not to spill a single drop.
Lydie sat daintily on Dracula's throne, drinking a dark red tea from a porcelain cup with a matching saucer. Surrounded by the soft crackle of burning candles, she had quickly grown to enjoy her cozy home. Juste stood just to her side with a stoic expression. A crimson aura in his eyes and a pair of small bite scars on his neck marked his fate.
A portal appeared in the center of the gothic throne room. It was a rift between worlds, and from it emerged the manifestation of Death itself. The cloaked skeletal figure levitated in the air with his signature scythe in hand as he offered Lydie a gesture of respect. He then spoke in a low, rumbling voice.
"You summoned me, my lady?"
An excited grin appeared on Lydie's face as she nodded and replied.
"Indeed. Please tell Uncle Dracula I'm grateful he's allowing me to rule in his absence. I hope he'll put all his faith in me since I've been keeping the peasants quite docile on my own."
She nodded politely toward Juste as she continued speaking.
"And in the event any of them get out of line, I can have my knight deal with the situation personally."
Despite remaining silent, the former vampire hunter showed his commitment to his mistress's words by revealing his fangs in a sinister sneer. Impressed with this display and having no advice of his own, Death answered Lydie's request with a simple nod.
"It shall be done, o beautiful maiden."
The reaper disappeared back into his vortex, leaving the castle keep in the care of its new masters. The land would continue to be terrorized by Lydie and her bloodthirsty minion for ages to come.