Chapter Two

The vampire looks very different from the mummified corpse that Yando had seen earlier. His head, which was once bald, was now covered in wild flowing white hair. While his skin is still gray and wrinkled, his body no longer looked dehydrated. He looked like an old man, just recently dead of old age. But those fangs, and those glowing red eyes. Those are very much the same, leaving the would-be wizard no doubt that this is the same creature he had unwittingly awoken. Yando points his weapon at the vampire, but before he could even think to pull the trigger, before he could even blink, the vampire snatches it from his hand. Yando watches as the vampire examines the device, an expression of curiosity on his gray, wrinkled face. Then he looks Yando square in the eye, and crushes the weapon in his fist.

"Who are you?" asks the vampire in a strained and gravelly voice.

Hoping to bluff his way out of this predicament, Yando stands up straight, throws his shoulders back, puffs out his chest, and in his most commanding voice declares, "I am Yando! A Mighty wizard! Let me pass!"

The vampire gives him a knowing chuckle. "I think not," he says, "Let's try this again. Who are you?"

Yando swallows hard, then he says, "To the groundlings I was known as Yando, but to the humans I am known as Caesar, Lord of Vegas!"

The vampire's knowing grin is then replaced by an irritated scowl, and he slowly starts walking towards the human. "I grow tired of asking this," he says, " so this will be the last time. Who. Are. You."

Yando pulls off his wizard's mask. "Womac," he says, looking away in shame and fear, "My name is Womac."

The vampire stops right in front of Womac and lays a hand gently upon his shoulder. "You have rescued me from imprisonment of untold ages," says the vampire, "I shall be needing a thrall A man servant who will be my eyes and ears during the light of day. Who will keep me safe and protected while I am at my most vulnerable. As a reward, I will grant you power undreamed of and ever lasting life. I shall make you immortal."

"Who are you?" asks Womac.

"Forgive me," says the vampire, "I thought you already knew. I am . . . Dracula."

"My Lord," says Womac, "What is it you require from me?"

"The blood of the . . . groundlings, I believe you called them. It has revived me and given me new life. But it is unclean, and foul to the taste. I need human blood." Womac's face is stricken with terror and he clasps his hand to his throat. "I do not want your blood," says Dracula with a slight chuckle, "you are my thrall and under my protection. Besides, you have already laid out my jailers for me most conveniently. No, your blood is quite safe from me and all those at my command. But my clothes have virtually rotted away to rags, hardly fitting attire for a Count. So while I am feeding, you shall search this prison for clothing more befitting someone of my station."

"Yes, Count Dracula!" says a relieved Womac, and he runs off to find clothing for his master.

Womac returns several minutes later. Dracula is no longer outside the entrance to the vault. The guards are all still there, none of them are breathing any longer. Each of them has a tiny pair of puncture wounds on the sides of their necks. Womac starts searching for his master. He finds him exiting the mess hall. The vampire now looks totally different from what he had looked like earlier. His skin is no longer gray and wrinkled, but is smooth and white, like someone who doesn't spend enough time in the sunlight. His hair is long and straight, and no longer white but as black as ink, His features are young and handsome, like those of a man in his very early thirties. His body is lean and well muscled, like that of a dancer or acrobat. As Dracula leaves the mess hall, he leans heavily against the wall with one hand and holds his other hand against his washboard abs. His face, while pale, has a slight tinge of green to it.

"Master?" says Womac with some concern.

"Garlic," says Dracula in heavily accented, though no longer strained, Common, "They had to be eating garlic."

"Here are the clothes you requested, My Lord."

Womac hands a folded stack of black clothing to the Count. As Dracula reaches for the clothing, he sees there's a white collar and a gold crucifix on a chain sitting on top of the pile. Hissing like an angry cat, Dracula knocks the stack of clothes out of Womac's hands.

"You fool!" cries the Count, "These are the clothes of a priest! A holy man!"

"I'm sorry Master," grovels Womac, "But these are the only clothes that aren't faded military fatigues handed down through the generations. There's nothing else that will fit you."

Dracula calms himself. "Of course, Man-Servant," he says, "you were only doing as I asked and didn't realize your folly. Discard the collar and the cross. I can wear the rest. And fetch me that guard captain's sword. It shall make a fine accessory."

Womac runs to obey his master. Meanwhile, Dracula rips off his torn and rotting cloths with a single pull of his powerful hands, and proceeds to dress in the clothing his human man-servant had acquired for him. Womac returns minutes later with the saber, just as Dracula is buttoning up his shirt. The Count takes the weapon and buckles it onto his hip, then puts on the trench-coat over top. Womac pulls a red ribbon out of his pocket and hands it to his master.

"I also found this," he says, "I thought you could use it to tie your hair back."

Dracula takes the ribbon and sniffs it. "A woman's," he says, "Young. Strong. Yet somehow . . . familiar."

With practiced ease, Dracula ties his hair back into a ponytail, fixing the ribbon into a perfect bow.

"Now I look like a gentleman," he says.

"Where to now, Master?" asks Womac.

"Now," says Dracula, "I build myself an army."

The two of them head quickly to the recreation room. There they find the guards just beginning to regain consciousness as the effects of the stun blasts begin to wear off. Dracula walks up to one of the female guards who was playing strip poker, an attractive young woman reduced to wearing her bra and panties. The Dark Lord picks her up and bites into her jugular vein. The girl's eyes widen in shock at the pain of the bite. She struggles in vain against her attacker, but she is too weak and his supernatural strength is too great. It occurs to Womac that from behind, it almost appears as though a lover's embrace. As the girl's struggles lessen to the point where she hardly struggles at all, Dracula stops feeding. He rolls up the sleeve of his trench-coat, bites his wrist, then places the wound in the girl's mouth.

"Drink, my child," he tells her, "Grow strong. Be forever young. Forever beautiful. Join me in immortality."

The girl drinks Dracula's blood. As she does so, she becomes stronger. She grips his arm tightly and sucks harder. Finally her feeding appears to weaken Dracula and he pulls himself away.

"Enough!" he tells her.

The girl stands up straight. Her eyes are blazing red and her canines have grown into long sharp fangs. She looks right at Womac, the way a cat looks at a mouse.

"More!" she says, "I want more!"

"Not him!" declares Dracula, "He is my thrall and under my protection!"

"But I hunger!" begs the girl.

"What is your name, child?" asks Dracula.

"Stepha, My Lord," she replies, "My name is Stepha."

"Stepha," says Dracula, "Such a lovely name. Well Stepha, there's a room full of potential meals in here. Pick one."

Stepha looks down at one of the soldiers she was playing strip poker with. "This one's name is Barry," she says, "He actually thought he was worthy of being my mate. I actually thought I was unworthy enough to be his."

"Then teach him otherwise," commands The Dark Lord.

Stepha straddles the soldier known as Barry, then gently slaps him awake. Barry looks around groggily.

"Wha . . . What happened?" he asks.

"Don't worry," Stepha tells him, "I'm here. I'll make everything better. You needn't worry ever again."

Then she leans in as though to kiss him, but instead bites into his carotid artery. Barry cries out in pain and fear as Stepha drains the life from him. As she's doing this, Dracula is siring another vampire. This time it's the black haired female soldier who was playing strip poker with Stepha and Barry. Like Stepha before her, she wakes up hungry for human blood. Stepha picks up the other male guard they were playing with.

"Hey Jen, how about Clay?" she asks, "He wanted to be with us. Let's make his wish come true."

The black haired Jen smiles an evil and cruel smile, and she and Stepha sink their teeth into Clay's neck and drink him dry. As they're doing this, Dracula sires the redhead they were playing with. By the time Clay is dead, their friend, Michelle, is now a vampire and very hungry. So they go over to the billiards table and feed on the two guards who were shooting pool. As his three brides are feeding, Dracula sires a fourth vampire, the brunette who was playing table tennis, Svetlana. Now his four brides feed on the remaining guards in the recreation room. When they're done the five vampires head out into the hall. They come to the door to the compound's barracks and hear the sound of the guards inside banging on the door, trying desperately to get out.

"What is in here?" asks Dracula.

"Barracks," replies Womac, "Sleeping quarters."

"Excellent," says Dracula. Then his body dissolves into a black mist which slips silently under the door.

Moments later there's the sound of people shouting. Then the sounds of a struggle, and furniture being smashed. Then there's silence. The silence lasts a long time. To Womac, it seems to last forever. Just as he's beginning to worry that he'll become a meal to Dracula's brides, a black mist seeps out from under the door and solidifies into the form of Count Dracula. Seconds later, the pounding on the door resumes. This time however, the pounding is strong enough to dent the steel door. The bolts holding the hinges in place begin to come lose. Then finally, the door is battered down and the room's occupant come pouring out, all of them vampires. Dracula turns to Womac.

"Man-Serv . . . Caesar. Take Stepha, Jen, Michelle, and Svetlana down into the labyrinth Show them how to avoid the death traps, and help them retrieve my coffin."

"Yes Master," says Womac with a bow, and he and the four brides head off to do as they're bid.

Then Dracula turns to the rest of his army of the undead. "As for the rest of you," he tells them, "I have no need for any more soldiers. Feast! Eat your fill! Leave none alive!"

The newly sired vampires let out a cheer then go running off towards the elevator. The four guards who were stationed there had just regained their feet when their former comrades attack. They're quickly overwhelmed and drained of their blood. Then the vampires force open the elevator doors. They rip off the emergency hatch in the top of the elevator and start climbing up the elevator like a horde of spider monkeys. As the last vampire climbs up the elevator shaft, Dracula hears a small voice whimpering. He turns towards the sound, and smiles evilly.

Meanwhile, up above, the guards are all regaining their feet. The stun blasts were not permanent, but they hurt like hell. Now the guards are awake, if a bit groggy. Just then they hear a sound coming from the elevator. They turn just in time to see the elevator doors being forced open and a horde of vampires pouring out of the elevator shaft. These soldiers had spent their entire lives training to fight vampires, but they are weak and disoriented from the stun rays and caught by surprise by the people who used to be their friends, their family, and their comrades in arms. The fighting is over practically before it had ever began. When the last guard has been drained of his blood, the elevator reaches the top and Dracula steps off accompanied by his thrall and his four brides, who are carrying their lord's coffin. When Dracula steps out of the ancient building, he sees the devastation all around him and the broken moon in the sky and gasps in astonishment.

"Demons Of Darkness!" he exclaims, "What has become of the world? What gods have shown such wrath? Such destruction?"

"I will explain all to you soon My Master," says Womac, "But not now. The sun will be up soon, and we must get back to my gambling house before anyone learns of what happened here this night."

Womac leads Count Dracula and his vampire army to the giant rat mounts. Womac climbs aboard his mount. A moment later, he hears the other rats screaming. He turns and sees the vampires feeding on the other dozen rats. In seconds the twelve mounts have been drained of blood and are lying dead on the ground.

"Vampires have no need of mounts," explains Dracula.

Then the vampire lord turns into a flock of bats and flies off towards Vegas. Womac turns to the other vampires.

"Can you do that?" He asks.

"No," replies Stepha, "That power belongs only to The Count."

"Then we had better get a move on," he says, "The sun will be up soon."

And he rides off on his giant rat, with an army of vampires keeping pace with him.