Onyxx: Hmm. Wonder how many chapters this is gonna end up having. Maybe another after this one.
Mary: At least two more! Come on!
Onyxx: (sigh) Maybe. Jeez.
Chapter Eleven:
I stood near the Big Ben as Mary gave me the heads-up.
"Look, I'm not gonna sugarcoat this. It's gonna hurt like hell," she said bluntly. "It feels like getting crushed between a rock and a minivan. But it's brief, so it's not that bad." Taking my hand, she began walking toward the direction of the pull.
I braced myself as we were engulfed in brilliant white light.
I was pressed against from all sides, my insides feeling like they were being crushed together and pulled apart at the same time. It hurt, it hurt so much, if it didn't stop I'd scream.
I screamed anyway, and then the light faded away, and I opened my eyes, standing in the middle of New Orleans.
Mary pulled me by the arm through the streets, guiding me through the maze of Halloween costumes, many looking like Lestat de Lioncourt. I even saw one girl dressed up as Claudia from Interview with the Vampire.
Tells you how much the N'awlins people love Anne Rice.
As Mary took a moment to glance at her watch and see how many minutes we had left until dawn, I saw him.
Dracula stood on the edge of the building where, in the movie, he had been hung from the cross and burned in the light of the sun. Now, he had a rope with him, and had it tied to the very same cross. The noose was around his neck, and he looked ready to jump off.
"Mary!" I shouted, getting her attention. "There! There he is!"
She looked up, blanching at the sight of his position, so precariously close to the edge. "He's waiting for the sun to rise," she whispered.
We ran to the building, climbing up the fire escape to get to the roof.
The sky lightened by the second, each second ticking away to Dracula's death.
It was a light pink when we finally reached the top, and the sun peeked over the horizon, still not enough yet to kill him, but enough to send Mary and I into panic.
As he jumped, I dove for him, sending us both off the edge with a battle cry that would make Beowulf blanch with fear.
Dracula caught my hand as we fell, the rope snapping tight around his neck. He stared at me with wonder, tears in his eyes, before he glanced worriedly at the lightening horizon.
I heard the rope snap, and we both began freefalling.
I knew then that I was going to die.
I prepared myself to become the epitome of SPLAT!, just as Dracula pulled me into his arms and blocked my fall.
He grunted as he hit the ground, then looked me full in the face.
"This is a dream," he whispered, stroking my cheek.
I shook my head, taking his hand in mine and bringing it to the place above my heart.
His lips parted with childlike fascination, and he whispered, "You … are real," before pressing his lips to mine.
I smiled, trying not to cry, and put my arms around him.
