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I woke up feeling a bit disheveled. Looking at my surroundings, I found that I was sitting slumped against a wall at the end of a narrow alley with two stone buildings on either side. How had I gotten here? I couldn't remember anything that had happened since…I was murdered.

It had been a long day battling against the Bulgarians. We were beginning to become victorious. I was walking into my tent when a man suddenly jumped in front of me, seemingly out of nowhere. Before I had the chance to obtain any kind of weapon, the man stabbed at me then cut open my stomach. I was alive long enough to see, and feel, the man pulling my insides out, probably to ensure that I definitely would die.

So then how was I still alive?

I started to feel thirsty. Really thirsty. There was a barrel of water nearby. I went up to it and started to loudly gulp down water. Even after a dozen mouthfuls, I was still thirsty. I was about to drink some more when all of a sudden I was gagging, and then I vomited out pretty much all of the water I had drunken. I staggered and backed away from the barrel. Strange, the water tasted fine to me. Must have been something in there.

As I walked towards the exit of the alley, I came by a drunk who nodded and waved at me with a bottle of ale in his hand. As I passed him, he somehow smashed and broke his bottle, cutting his hand, which bled freely. Before I knew what I was doing, I had pounced on the man, grabbed his hand and started licking the blood. The man looked stunned. It was as if I was in a trance, as if something had taken over me as I sucked the blood out of his hand. I had soon drained the poor man of all his blood.

Throughout the whole scene, the man hadn't even cried out. Probably too shocked or drunk to do anything but stare as I slowly drank the life out of him.

After I had finished, I came out of my trance. I felt terrible. Awful. I should be thrown in a lunatic asylum. I should be locked up in gaol for the rest of my days. I was seriously thinking of killing myself when the thought of something, someone, stopped me. Verona. Verona, Verona, Verona. My lovely Verona. I must go to her, tell her what had happened. She wouldn't despise me, would she? No I told myself. She would understand. She always did.

I walked out of the alley and studied the area. I was in a market, in the village close to my castle. As I walked towards some several carriages waiting to carry anyone who wished to go somewhere, I went by a store selling vegetables, fruits and herbs. I could smell many things – onions, spiced peaches, celery – but one particular smell caught my attention. It was bad. Really bad. The smell hurt my nose and burnt my throat. Then I realized it was garlic. I thought this to be quite unusual for I had never had this reaction to garlic before. I stole away from the store as quickly as I could.

I found a carriage and paid the driver to take me to my castle. In the carriage, I again felt the strange urge to pounce, on the driver this time, but I restrained myself. I held on to and squeezed my seat as I was doing so, and I must have been so nervous that I actually broke off the bit of the seat that I was holding onto. At the sound of the snap, the driver turned around and stared at me. I quickly shuffled over the seat and covered the broken area with my leg.

"Keep your eyes on the road, man", I growled.

The driver looked confused then turned back around.

When I got back to my castle I started to feel thirsty again, unbearably thirsty, thirstier than I was in the alley. I walked up a stairway then quickly towards where Verona's bedroom was. In one particular hallway that I passed, there was a large mirror hanging on the wall to my left. As I walked past, something struck me as unusual. The surface of the mirror hadn't changed one bit as I had gone by. I slowly walked back a few steps and turned towards the mirror. I situated myself directly in front of it but the surface still didn't change. I waved at it, danced in front of it, made faces, but still no change. I stared, at the place where my reflection should have been, in wonder. By golly, was I invisible? Would Verona be able to see me? But then I remembered the man in the alley (God help me!) and how he had looked at me. No, I was visible. The mirror was probably just some prank that a trickster servant was playing at. I continued towards Verona's bedroom.

When I arrived, Verona was still sleeping, in that deep, peaceful slumber, as was her norm. It was still quite early in the morning, and she was not much of an early riser. For some reason this morning, Verona looked especially attractive. Or rather, I found her blood appealing. I could actually smell, hear her blood pulsing through her veins. I reeled back in horror. What was wrong with me? What had I become? I backed away from Verona's bed, but again I felt that urge to pounce. Again, I fell into some sort of trance. Again, I felt thirsty, thirstier now than ever before. Thirsty for blood. The temptation was too great. I tried to restrain that feeling, as I did in the carriage, but to no avail. I crept slowly towards Verona, quietly, like a hunter hunting its prey. I swept over her, leaned my face in towards her neck, and bit into it with fangs I never realised I had grown.

*

I stopped myself. I immediately fell out of the trance. I cried out in anger. What had I done? I could still smell Verona's blood, the little bit that was left. I ran out of the room, out of the castle. I didn't know where I was going, but I kept on running. I ran towards a small church that suddenly appeared. I cocked my head in surprise, for I had never noticed this church before. I ran inside.

I kneeled in front of the small alter, which held several pictures of Jesus, Mary, Joseph and other saints. Right in the middle was a holy crucifix. I prayed to God for forgiveness, though I knew that I probably wouldn't get it. I unconsciously reached towards the cross, but on touching it, my hand felt an intense, searing, burning sensation, a feeling that reached the very depths of my heart. I reeled back in fright. My hand flew to my chest. There was no pulse, no beating where my heart should have been. No heart?!! I felt like crying – I probably would have but for some reason I couldn't. I screamed in frustration. Even God has rejected me! What evil I must be! As I considered that, my memory clicked. I remembered fully what had happened. I remembered the dark, fiery pits. Of Hell. I remembered his deep, thunderous voice, that filled the air around me. Air that reeked of evil and sin.

"Count Vladislaus Dragulia", boomed the voice. "So you want to live? Forever? For my pleasure, I will let you live. Forever. But it comes at a price. A price that you will pay dearly. You will always be thirsty. Not thirsty for water or beer or wine or any of the usual liquids. You will be thirsty for blood. Forever thirsty for blood."

And with that, the terrible voice laughed manically, and I fell into a deep state of unconsciousness.

*

My legs felt wobbly. I still felt like crying, but still no tears came out. I sprinted out of the church and towards the small village. When I got there, I sat on a wooden bench. I could hear a couple of children playing. I turned towards them and saw that it was a little boy and girl playing with a small ball. Then a woman came, probably their mother, and started playing with them. They somehow fell down to the ground, but all were happy and laughing with delight. I looked at the happy family and anger flared up inside me. Why me? Why me and not someone else, I questioned God. Why me, out of all of His creations, why was I the one who became a…a vampire?

I started running again, back towards the alley where I first woke up. As I ran, I felt myself going into the trance. I felt something take over me, though I didn't feel the urge to pounce on anyone. Not yet. I let the feeling slowly take over me, pull me in. by the time I got to the alley, I was no longer who I was, who I had been. I let go of my humanity. I was now, fully and officially, a vampire.

A/N: In this short story, I conveyed Dracula as the 'victim', not the villain/predator like he is portrayed in Stoker's novel. It's my 'different viewpoints' habit again. (:

Disclaimer: this is just something I wrote for English class. Bram Stoker neither approves nor disapproves of my work .