And here's another chapter for you! ENJOY!

II

Dream or Reality?

The music was loud, with its pulse-pounding beat and obscene lyrics, a strange soundtrack for the vision of lights flying by and reflecting off the glass of the windshield in colors so bright, it made her head ache. The pungent stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke burned the hairs in her nostrils and if it hadn't been pouring outside, she would have rolled down the window for some fresh air.

Hera could still feel the throbbing pulsations on her lips, the hands of that all too friendly stranger having left their imprints on certain areas of her body where he had touched.

That was the last time she was evergoing to go clubbing. Ever.

Hera turned down the music so she could concentrate better on the road ahead of her. Hailey was out anyway. She looked over at her friend, clad in a scantily designed dress, the girl's purple hair matted to her face. But at least she got to sleep off the round of shots she had done at the start of the evening.

Hera sometimes hated being the designated driver.

How she'd love to just drink her troubles away, enjoy a night of nothing but worry-free adventures, drowning her depression – that empty feeling gnawing at her insides – in the darkness of the night. But alas, Hera had never had much in common with the frequently amoral and decadent youth of her generation, and if she sat down and thought about it long enough, what they had wasn't what she truly wanted in the first place.

Hera had never really been like everyone else, as much as she may have tried in the last couple of years to appear so. If she was being honest with herself, outside of a shared fascination for academia and specific genres of music, she and Hailey were more dissimilar than alike, and living with that knowledge had always been a bit difficult. It made her feel alien in her own skin and so terribly lonely.

To make matters worse, Hera found it exhausting, trying to be in a real, genuine relationship. Finding someone compatible to her had been a pursuit that had wound up painfully fruitless, especially in the last decade of her life. There was no one out there that she had yet met who could meet her unintentionally high standards – someone whose intellect surpassed her own, someone who challenged her, and yet adored her; a man with wit, talent, passion, ambition, experience…

Hera stared off into space as she drove the familiar streets of London to Hailey's flat, lost in her thoughts.

Why was it so hard for her to maintain a lasting relationship with someone who wasn't her father or her best friend? She chuckled slightly to herself – oh, she had her suspicions, a secret fancy that maybe she had been born in the wrong era. Perhaps she just didn't belong in this day and age. She shook herself of the thought the moment it entered her mind.

No Hera, she thought. Stop it. You don't belong in the past. You are where you are for a reason.

"Then why do I feel so empty?" she asked herself softly.

"Huh?" Hailey groaned as they pulled into the parking lot beneath the apartment complex.

"We're home, Hailey," Hera explained after parking the car.

Hailey mumbled something incoherent as she rubbed her face and managed to unbuckle her seat belt, fumbling her way out of the vehicle.

"Really?" she slurred as Hera climbed out, shutting and locking the car door behind her while grabbing Hailey's arm to support her before she could trip and topple over her own feet.

"Yes. We're going to go upstairs and you're going to go straight to bed," Hera replied, her tone even as if she were saying it out of routine.

After some difficulty and a few weird remarks from a very drunk Hailey, they finally made it up to her flat. Hera led the woman to the bedroom and the moment her friend hit the mattress, she was asleep, deforesting entire continents at a time.

Hera rubbed the back of her neck after shutting the door behind her.

What a night it had been!

She glanced at the clock on the microwave and then groaned at the sight. It was three in the morning and though she was tired, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Her brain was still running a hundred miles an hour. The young woman shrugged in defeat, grabbing her army-green zip-up hoodie, putting it on over her black tank top.

After making herself comfortable on the sofa, she fished her iPod out of her bag on the coffee table before reaching for the remote to the TV, flipping channels idly in the dark while simultaneously shuffling through her music. She did this for what felt like an age, hundreds of images made up of billions of tiny colored pixels flashing before her eyes in rapid succession, the television on mute as she listened to a Kodály cello sonata.

Hera soon shoved the iPod into the pocket of her sweatshirt as she continued to channel surf for a couple of minutes, and then she gave up, turning off the television and tossing the remote onto the floor as she sat up from her lounging position.

Pulling the ear-buds out of her ears, she placed them in her pocket before burying her face into her hands, the deafening silence and maddening solitude making her depression worse. Feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt plagued her in the darkness of the flat, coiling around her chest and tightening as she felt another round of tears beginning to burn in her eyes.

"Why, God?" she whispered softly into the palms of her hands. "Why me? Why can't I just be normal like everyone else? Why can't I have a real relationship with someone who really loves me? Someone who'd…" but she stopped and let out a long breath, staring blankly in front of her. "Why do I feel like I don't belong? Like a piece of me is missing? Why do I feel so broken, so defective, so… unwanted?"

Hera looked at the window of Hailey's apartment and out at the full moon partially obscured by thick, ominous clouds that threatened rain.

"If you're real, God – give me a sign. Show me the missing piece of my soul. Help me understand. Show me. Tell me in some way who I am meant for. Am I meant for anything? Anyone? Or am I doomed to a life of being alone? Please say it isn't so," and she pressed her fist against her mouth, trying to get better control over her emotions. "Please don't leave me in the dark. Show me…"

Hera then waited in the quiet for several long minutes, the sound of thunder rolling in the clouds outside as another storm threatened to siege the sleeping London. She waited and waited, and at long last, Hera gave up.

Exhaling loudly in defeat, she stood.

"Maybe the atheists are right," she grumbled bitterly and she moved around the sofa.

She was about to head into the hall that led to the guest bedroom when suddenly something odd caught her attention.

"Success!"

"Oh Count, it's just you."

"I was beginning to lose faith, Victor…"

Hera turned to face the television, noticing how the movie Van Helsing had just… turned itself on?

She made a face as she moved back to the couch, too puzzled to find the remote and turn the television off. After all, she had always kind of liked this movie. Sure, it completely abandoned the original mythos of especially Stoker's and Shelley's monsters, but it was entertaining as hell.

Hera hadn't watched it in what felt like years and Van Helsing and even the gypsy prince Velkan were awfully nice to look at. But she had always had a soft spot when it came to Count Dracula. The man was gorgeous – even his silent conceit was attractive.

"A pity your moment of triumph is being spoiled over a little thing like… grave robbery," the Count answered sardonically and Hera couldn't help but smile.

She loved this portrayal of Dracula. He seemed so disinterested in the things around him. Apathetic and arrogant, and yet there was something in his eyes that intrigued her greatly...

"Yes, I must… I must escape this place!"

"Where are you going to run, Victor? Your peculiar experiments have made you unwelcome in most of the civilized world."

"I'll take him away… far away. Where no one will ever find him."

"Oh no, Victor… I believe the time has come for me to take command of him."

There was a little nagging voice in the back of Hera's head insisting that something wasn't quite right. Dracula's eyes kept diverting toward the screen in Hera's direction… she never remembered the actor looking directly into the camera before in this part of the film. His eyes had always been off to the side…

"What are you saying?"

"Why do you think I brought you here? Gave you this castle? Equipped your laboratory?"

"You said… you said you believed in my work…"

"And I do. But now that it is as you yourself have said – a triumph… of science… over GOD… It must now serve my purpose…"

"What purpose?"

Hera watched in fascination as the camera turned and panned back so she could have a full view of Frankenstein's laboratory, but there was just one problem – that never happened in the movie.

Was this a newly released extended cut?

And why did Dracula look like he was stealing glances at her?

Hera's heart began to pound heavily in her chest as her eyes lay transfixed on what she believed was the television screen, but something was wrong… terribly wrong. The black and white of the movie was melting away, being replaced with color, although the scene itself remained very dark. Not only in hue, but in atmosphere as well.

"You'll recall, Victor, I'm a bit of a family man," the Count drawled casually, moving his gaze back towards the doctor. "I have been struggling to father children of my own flesh and blood for centuries, but there is one grating hindrance to my plans, a sealed door – if you will – that has kept me from obtaining what is rightfully mine. My children are born dead. But why, you may ask, dear doctor – why have I supported you, what purpose could Adam possibly fulfill? What could my life-deprived progeny have to do with a mere mortal such as yourself?"

The Count took a step forward and he leaned close, looking directly into the doctor's petrified eyes.

"The answer is obvious. Life, Victor. Life for my children; and you, my dear doctor, have just made me the key."

"What do you mean?" Victor asked, mortified.

"I want life, Victor – the life that was so cruelly taken from me, and, consequently, from all those just like me," and he let the mortal see the tips of his fangs. "And soon the world will know me. They will fear me. With my brides at my side, my children shall flood the earth, tearing away the life of its people, just as its people tore my life from me."

Victor stumbled back in horror, running into the monster that lay strapped on the table, listening intently to every word.

"It's what I like to refer to as world domination," the Count drawled with a sadistic smile. "The age of man is coming to an end and another shall rise from its ashes. The age of the vampire is close at hand. All you have to do, Victor, is bring my children to life. Continue to assist me willingly, as you have already done, and I will help you unlock the secrets to not just life, but life eternal."

Frankenstein's face was marred with a look of utter terror.

"Good God! I would kill myself before helping in such a task!"

Dracula merely shrugged in indifference.

"Feel free, I don't actually need you anymore, Victor. I just need him. He is the key…"

"I could never allow him to be used for such evil."

Dracula smiled, and it made Hera's spine tingle.

"I could. In fact, my brides are insisting upon it."

Hera could hardly stand this any longer. Something felt horribly off about the scene in front of her and despite her inherent rationalizations that this was just a movie, she couldn't shake the sensation of dread compressing down around her heart.

"Igor! Help me!" Victor called.

Hera waited for the scene in front of her to change to that of Igor, but all she heard was his voice, coming from above her?

"You have been so kind to me, doctor. Caring, thoughtful..."

Hera looked up and behind her to see that she wasn't in Hailey's flat anymore. She wasn't even in London anymore! There was no sofa beneath her, no TV in front of her. She was sitting on a large wooden crate, hidden in the shadows, and just above her on the rafters was… Igor?

The woman made a face as her mind whirled in confusion.

"But he pays me," Igor finished menacingly and Hera turned back to look at Frankenstein and the Count.

This had to be a dream!

She must have fallen asleep!

"Stay back!" Victor warned, pointing a sword at the Count's chest. Dracula grinned, the expression on his face making Hera's skin crawl.

"You can't kill me, Victor…" and Hera watched as he walked directly into the blade and she gasped in disbelief. "I'm already dead."

The scene was no longer black and white. There was no background music, no zoomed in vision, no crappy CGI.

This was real.

This had to be real, but her mind wouldn't allow her to accept that possibility, simply because… it just wasn't possible!

Monsters, at least in this sense, did not exist!

Time travel certainly wasn't a thing, and there was no way a Hollywood produced film was even remotely based in reality.

And yet here she was.

Hera's eyes were wide in astonishment as she felt her feet moving her out of the shadows and towards the scene in front her, her brain scrambling to make sense of what she was witnessing.

Dracula's naturally handsome face was now marred with a demonic hunger, and though the gore was horrifying, Hera was incapable of turning away as the vampire sank his teeth into the flesh of Victor Frankenstein. She could hear the chomp of the Count's powerful bite, fangs tearing through meat, cartilage, and muscle as crimson blood painted the scientist's torn neck and he screamed in anguish before going limp in the vampire's arms from the shock and then the blood loss.

Dracula's unholy blue eyes snapped up from the doctor's neck and glued instantly to Hera. His gaze penetrated her soul as he tossed the unconscious man aside and wiped the blood from his lips.

"Who are you?" he asked her, needlessly panting for air, unaware that the monster was no longer on the table beside him.

He was too transfixed on this strange woman before him – this woman with sharp eyes, fiery hair, and a doubting gaze. Whoever she was, she had just appeared out of nowhere. He had sensed her presence just faintly when he had first arrived, but as the time had passed, it had become stronger – powerful, her mortal heart beating furiously in her chest.

Hera was still too dumbstruck to respond to the Count's inquiry.

She had to be dreaming.

She HAD to be!

This wasn't possible.

Dracula wasn't real, her brain frantically rationalized, and her conscious mind began to run through an assortment of facts in an effort to root herself on what she felt was a rapidly depleting reality.

Bram Stoker, she thought. What did I read about Stoker? The novel Dracula was written in 1897 and had been largely influenced by an essay about Transylvanian superstitions, not to mention the nightmare he had had about a vampire king, although that had been brought on by too much crabmeat before bed. And then there's Victor Frankenstein. Focus, Hera! Okay. Frankenstein. Mary Shelley. Published in 1818. Written because Percy and Byron thought they could write a better horror story. But… but that was almost two hundred years ago!

Hera's mind was running a hundred miles an hour as she attempted to make sense of all this, but the entire scenario in and of itself was sheer insanity.

She couldn't be in the year 1887!

Could she?

And if she truly was, then how on earth had she gotten here?

The Count watched as Hera's mind buzzed angrily in doubt and confusion and being the impatient man he was, he repeated his question in a more menacing tone.

"Who are you?" he demanded, taking a step forward.

Hera instinctively took a step back and shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh my God, I've finally lost it," she whispered, her words barely audible. "I've gone insane."

But the Count picked up on her answer and he smiled charmingly, a hint of devilish malevolence distorting his naturally appealing features as he continued to stalk towards her… one leisurely step at a time.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

"I do. But I'm seriously doubting my senses right about now," she said, shocked that she was even having a conversation with Dracula in the first place.

Oh, where was the TARDIS when she needed one?

The Count chuckled and stopped moving towards her, an amused grin on his face.

"Your heart is pounding wildly, though not entirely in fear?" and he cocked a brow, taking in her appearance when suddenly it dawned on him. "You're not from here, are you?"

Hera just stared, unable to keep her eyes off of his, not knowing if it was the shock or some sort of spell he had placed on her. The woman shook her head tentatively as she grabbed a large crate for support. She could feel the tightening in her chest, the panic in her brain.

"What is your name?" he asked her softly.

Hera stared at him with disbelieving eyes, but he noticed how she unconsciously straightened her posture in response to his question – as if out of habit – and although he could tell from her thoughts that she was clearly doubting her sanity, she seemed stable enough.

Despite her peculiar clothes.

And the odd marmalade color of her hair which clearly wasn't her natural hue.

"Your name, child."

"Hera."

Hera hardly realized that she had spoken her name – she just heard it ringing in her ears.

The Count had opened his mouth to reply, when out of nowhere a loud, angry growl penetrated the silence, erupting into momentary chaos as the Frankenstein monster appeared with a huge hunk of machinery in his hands. Before Hera could even register what was happening, that machinery was being hurled through the air until it hit Dracula dead on, smashing him into the flames of the roaring hearth. The creature then turned to Hera and went to strike when she finally snapped out of her stupor and raised her hands up in defense.

"NO!" she shouted. "No, no, no, wait… I'm a friend. I'm a friend."

The creature responded to the title and looked her once over, unaware of how Hera's mind was screaming at her. This was working? He actually understands me?! Well, it was keeping her alive, so she lowered her hands gently as the monster towered over her.

"I swear, I mean you no harm," she said softly.

In any normal situation, Hera would have been mentally mocking herself, but this wasn't a dream. She genuinely believed in that moment that her life was at stake and her conscience could ridicule her later.

The monster reached out a hand and touched her face with his finger, but said nothing, a contemplative look in his eyes. Although her heart was racing madly within her chest, she smiled up at him until a loud bang interrupted the strange moment and the sound of angry villagers caught Hera's attention.

"You need to get out of here," she urged the creature. The doctor groaned softly in the distance and both the monster and Hera turned towards Victor, whose throat was partially torn out. By some miracle, Dracula had left him alive. Well, that wasn't supposed to happen! Hera's mind began to race.

Victor Frankenstein, in this story, wasn't supposed to live. If he did, Dracula would bring his children to life. She had to dispose of the doctor and hide the monster and the only thing she could think of was…

"The windmill," she said and the monster pick up his barely conscious creator. "Run to the windmill." She pointed towards the exit and then watched as the monster raced out the door.

The moment he was gone, she stared at the exit for several long moments before turning around slowly to take in her surroundings – the roaring fire in the hearth, the buzzing and sparking electrical equipment, Frankenstein's blood all over the floor, the sound of the angry villagers outside in the courtyard.

Hera violently slapped her face once to see if that would wake her up.

Nothing.

She then closed her eyes and roughly pinched her arm to the point of almost bruising it and still when she opened her eyes she was here, in the laboratory of Castle Frankenstein.

"Jesus Christ, Hera, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" she shuddered, eyes wide. "What the hell did you do?"

Alright dearies, I want to hear your thoughts! Even if you've read the story before, I'd really appreciate your opinions and commentary!

Are you a veteran fan of the story or are you a newcomer? If the former, what are you looking forward to reading the most? If you're new, what do you think will happen next? Did I overlook any mistakes? Do you have any suggestions for future improvement? Do you have any predictions, recommendations, or questions?

I want to hear it all, my dear readers, so send me a review!