Dracula Reborn

Chapter One – Life after Two Deaths

It was dark, very dark and it was raining. A man made his way across the crowded street, through the rain in his long, black overcoat and pants. Soon enough, he reached his destination. A dirty back alley, crowded with the homeless. He made his way to a house, and knocked on the door three times. A panel slid open in the door, at eye level. It revealed a pair of dark eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner.

"Who is it?"

"Ragan."

"The password?"

The man named Ragan muttered a word in Romanian, barely audible to other ears. The other person, behind the door, seemed to accept this word, but still inquired further.

"Symbol." The man outside the door removed the black glove from his right hand, and held it up in front of the panel in the door, the back of his palm facing the door. Nobody behind him could see the insignia on his hand, and he normally kept it hidden anyway. The door then opened to reveal a man, clothed in a black tunic with red trimming, and matching pants. There was black eyeliner around his eyes and red eye shadow on his eyelids. When he blinked, you could see the red eye shadow with what looked like two black eyes, one of each eyelid. On his right hand, he had the same insignia as Ragan did, and he wore long, black, steel-capped boots, with small spikes running down the front of each boot and a black cloak.

"Good to see you. They have been expecting you."

"Indeed. Thanks for informing me, Hal." Ragan pushed past Hal and made his way further into the house.

The two of them then came to a room, where a ladder poked up out of the floor. Climbing down the ladder, the two men found themselves in a cavern, with a tunnel in front of them. Walking down the torch lit tunnel, they soon reached another, much larger cavern. Mist wisped around their feet as they entered the cavern, to be greeted by six more men, dressed exactly like Hal, with the exact same makeup, and tattoos on their right hands.

"Ragan. How nice of you to join us. Tell us, what of your quest?" said one, who seemed to be the leader.

"Ah. My quest. Yes. It has been quite successful. My men are bringing what we require right as we speak."

"Very good. Soon, all that we have worked for shall be complete." The man speaking to Ragan bowed his head.

"He shall be reborn." Said another, bowing in the same fashion and Ragan repeated the gesture to both men.

"Of course. His enemies shall be caught, unprepared."

"May the Devil thank us." Said Hal, "For we prepare to bring his son to life."

"May the Devil thank us." Repeated the others, Ragan included. All eight of them stepped forward, to surround a black onyx coffin. The silence was then broken by a woman's scream.

"It seems that Ragan's quest is complete." Said the man that spoke to Ragan when he first arrived. Ragan smiled.

"Did you ever doubt me, Rax?" The man named Rax bowed his head.

"No, I did not." The conversation ended abruptly when two large men, wearing black leather jackets and tight black pants walked in, dragging a dark haired woman, in about her early twenties, her blue eyes wild with fear.

"What, what are you doing? What do you want?" she screamed. Ragan marched up to her and gripped her hard on the jaw, making her cry out in pain.

"You do not speak. Is that clear?" He let go of her and she nodded, terrified. The two men holding her captive pushed her forward and she stumbled down the small set of stairs to stand in front of the coffin.

"Put her in." said Rax and the woman screamed as she was lifted up and placed into the coffin. It was just wide enough for her, and long enough. They strapped her in, ignoring her struggles to break free and backed up into the circle. Her breathing was quick and uneven as fear was taking its hold.

"The human sacrifice, for the deceased to walk again." The ritual had begun. Hearing this, the woman screamed, before she was unceremoniously silenced.

"Blood of the faithful, to feed the child." A bottle full of a deep red liquid was brought forth, from each of the eight men standing around the coffin. There was a large flat-bottomed vial sitting at the top of the coffin, and each man poured the contents into the vial.

"The mark of the enemy, burned, and its ashes spread." One of the men took out a wooden cross from a pocket inside his cloak and a cigarette lighter. A spark flew in the lighter and a small flame appeared. In moments, the cross was nothing but ashes. These ashes were scattered around the coffin and the man stepped back into the circle.

"A chant in the deceased's native tongue, to find the spirit which we wish to resurrect." The men almost immediately began chanting in Romanian.

Bring forth the spirit of the "man" we seek

Who has power over those that are weak

Unmatchable strength and an undeniable will

His enemies are dead and still

Resurrect the dead man whose insignia we wear

Loyal followers that dare

Defy the will of God

The eight men raised their hands into the air, the back of their palms facing the coffin, showing the insignia tattooed on. The insignia of a dragon, curled around a sword. The mark of a man long dead. The mark of a man, that wasn't really a man. He was more than a man. He was power, a count of unmatchable power, of those of the undead. Vladislaus Dragulia. Count Dracula.

As a dark smoke began to wisp down from the ceiling, the eight men vacated the room. The woman in the coffin, frozen with fear, watched the smoke come down and completely cover her body. A few seconds later, the eight men outside the room heard her screams, waiting with baited breath for them to stop. Once they had, they entered the room. Standing in the coffin, where the woman had lain, stood a man, his back facing them. His long black hair hung down, and he stood there, completely naked. They watched as he held up a hand in front of him, admiring it. His head rose sharply as he detected their presence.

"Gentlemen." A voice with a thick Romanian accent passed easily through those lips, on a face that they could not see.

"My lord, Count Dracula." said Rax, dropping to his knees on the ground. The other men then did the same.

"What can we do to serve you, my lord?" Dracula smirked.

"Some clothes might be nice."

"Yes, my lord." The man scurried off, and Dracula smiled.

A few minutes later, Dracula was inspecting his new body, the one that rebirth had given him in front of a full length mirror. He was a lot younger, by about twenty years, but he still had his dark hair and striking blue eyes. A smile came to his thin lips.

'Well, Gabriel. Let's see if you can be three times lucky.

Some Random: Dracula's back...of course the title probably would have given the hint. This chapter pretty much hasn't changed at all. Anywho, I won't bug you much, just to say please review, it lets me know that people are actually reading this and that re-writing it all wasn't for nothing (cause that would REALLY suck). I mean, LaDaSF (Life after Death and So Forth) isn't doing too well, no reviews though I haven't updated for ages. So yeah, please review etc, etc, sorry if it's short.