Svengali
Chapter One
Aline sat in her local, counting ticks and tocks as the hands hit midnight, her own wrapped around tumbler of bourbon, the kind that made digits curl, throat convulse, burn counteracting stabs of pain down the left side of her form.
After a while, liquid fire became fairly pleasant.
That could be because she was becoming inebriated, long past point of caring whether or not the patrons around her watched her downfall, disdain etching itself across their features, artist's work of poor quality.
It could also be that each, every time woman walked, strolled or ran past Castle Dracula's crumbling foundations, visage sight for sore (drunk) eyes, it reminded her of her Father's home...
Desolate, entities haunting its halls wanting to be alone, seeking solitude, hush of the night.
Aline sought seclusion. Since the loss of her parents, woman lost tethers, life severed them, scissors unseen, though felt, as blades dragged lines down body, waking with results prominent, obvious.
She hid those from the public. They would think she was causing harm to herself.
She was, internally. Any legal vice she could get greedy mitts on, Aline would down it, liquid dripping onto clothes, down chin, seeping into the very fabric of her.
Or, she'd eat it, inevitably something loaded with carbs, enough sugar to turn her green at the gills, sat on the couch in the comfiest, grubbiest clothes she owned, eating sinful delight, smearing cream, chocolate around mouth, calories between teeth not given any thought.
No. What marred external appearance were the bruises, scars she'd earned from battling ungodly horrors, appearing from, seemingly nowhere.
Aberrations, humongous creatures of the night, surrounded my darkness, Aline refusing to fight them in their element. They had the upper hand, in that moment.
Woman left it to the Prince of the very thing they utilised to conceal themselves to murder, or, more accurately, butcher them, blood splattering over any, all surfaces around vampire as he fed, canvas drenched in scarlet.
Morbid fascination told woman to stay, watch, sight revolting, smell more so, but innate curiosity decided it would not be quelled.
Dracula held toy mouse, attached to string, and Aline was helpless but to watch it sway...
She, eventually ran because logic decided to make its way onto the stage, biggest light beaming upon it, temporarily blinding woman, telling her to leg it.
She ran because the growl that erupted from the Dragon's throat bellowed. It was rough, gruff, Aline wondering if she should run to chemist, pick up some throat lozenges and return to alleyway, place them upon crate, or whatever remained in the shells of houses, perhaps amusing man?
She did amuse man. Aline knew that if Dracula wanted her dead, she would be.
If he wished to bleed her, turn her, drip tainted blood down her throat, choking, wrenching last gasps of life from her, vestiges of survival slipping from grasp, scampering away like gleeful imp, he would have done that the first time he spotted her, observing him.
This, being the eighth time caused man to think woman wished to perish, and he couldn't help but wonder why.
He spotted this woman heading to her favourite haunt, The Dog And Dove, woman's second home, after her flat. He'd followed her, multiple times, contemplating whether or not to take her life. Something, as yet unknown prevented him following nature, heeding its call.
She'd limp, frown, paint the air blue, curse anyone, anything nearby to Hell.
Blinking, Alucard's face flashed before Dracula's eyes, when his son was mortal. He hung on to the mortal coil for as long as he could, everything mustered to defeat Vampire Lord.
He felt sorry for his son, for Trevor, increasing exponentially after he looked, properly looked at the Dragon, Dracula seeing Marie in young man's face, barely past boyhood years.
He recognised what he felt, watching the woman.
Pity.
Melancholia radiated off her in waves. No matter how far man stood away from her, he would experience her frustration.
She fought too, with all her might.
But her might wasn't enough.
She was dying, her blood began to sour, rot scenting his nostrils.
He knew her scent after the third time of 'meeting' her. She was caught by a lycan, the tip of its claw tearing gash in her arm. She held it, glowering at creature, finding Dracula's eyes.
He tilted head, rusted ore eyes giving off little, woman wondering what she looked like, the state she was in.
Deciding she couldn't care, seconds later, woman huffed, too old for this shit, too old to be fleeing like her arse was on fire.
She didn't have much to her name, it wasn't like anyone would miss her.
Dawn chorus rang out, Spring birds paired up, singing sweetly to each other, Aline adoring the sound, opening window, surprisingly feeling well, given last night's events, and the ensuing debacle afterwards...
She left The Dog And Dove around eleven, Ted, the barman walking her part of the way home, making sure she wasn't going to trip over own feet, sway herself into the middle of a road, even if they were dead at that time of night.
She thanked him, aware of the shadow following, closely behind, for the last three streets.
Smirking, woman pondered what made her so 'fascinating.'
That, or The Prince of Darkness was feeling peckish, her inebriated arse an easy snack...
"Do I glow in the dark? I am rather pale...or is it this shiny trinket around my neck?" Aline snorted. "I should call you 'magpie.'"
Auburn locks swept across shoulder, Dracula stepped from shadow, dipping head into groove of woman's neck. She smelt of cherries, vanilla and oak coming from puffs of air she let out. She was afraid, pulse throbbing, vampire's eyes darkening.
Aline huffed.
She huffed...
Folding arms, woman checked him out.
"You should be running."
Aline snorted.
"Oh, of course!" She went to sprint, stopping after a few steps. "What's the point in fleeing? Shaking, begging for my life? As if I could stop you, regardless. I won't provide entertainment. Even if I wanted too," she simulated drinking, "it wouldn't be for free..."
She pulled 'trinket' from under her blouse.
"Still," she mused, "I feel somewhat obligated to leg it, give you some amusement, given you bothered to make my acquaintance..."
Dracula stepped back, amulet preventing woman becoming midnight snack.
Partially because it was made of silver.
Mostly because of whom that once belonged too.
"I was not aware Constantine had a daughter."
"You knew him?"
Cheekiness went out of the window, woman genuinely curious.
"I did, for a short time. A respectable, efficient man."
"It seems I did not inherit either of those."
The Dragon's stern visage amused woman.
"You should not be outside. The streets are filled with Satan's hell beasts."
Amusement died, sparkler dimming.
"'Satan's hell beasts?' I thought you dealt with those?"
"I thought that, too. There was a second portal, underground, in the sewer system. Until I can locate text, with the spell to seal it, more and more creatures will surface."
"The sewers? Magnifique. I shall not be accompanying you down there."
Swirling pools of blood ceased for split second, man squinting.
"You assume you should?"
"I fight during the day, I can't help in the evening, or in the sewers. Those are their, your domain. I am dying, Drac, can't exactly rest on my laurels, but I can't keep pushing, either. I want to help. May I?"
Drac?
Man considered walking off, woman's approach common, childish.
"It would help if you did not drain the local establishment's taps..."
Aline scoffed.
"Beer is for watching films with amis, with popcorn and revelry and, since they either fled or were killed, I drink harder stuff. Could likely strip paint with it. Please, don't."
Aline waved Dracula off, move audacious.
"I am well aware I have let my Father down, am debasing his memory. I don't need reminding. I fucked up, didn't want to admit it."
Her language prompted displeased growl to rumble from man's throat.
"I won't ask anything, I have zéro right to do so. I will do what I can."
"I have seen you fight. You are capable, though too slow. You carry too many weapons, it makes movement cumbersome. Constantine taught you combat, did he not?"
Aline nodded.
"Aline." She resisted offering hand, semblance of manners making reappearance. "He did, fought in both world wars, travelled the world to glean knowledge, techniques. He did not teach me, merely to swat off unwanted advances. He taught me because I wished to learn. Being a woman had fuck all to do with it."
Before silencing her profanity spewing mouth, headache taxed vampire's rationale, reasons he should not drain her rapidly disappearing...
"I cannot detect vampiric influence in your blood."
"No." Aline sighed. "I am human, alive only because Father gave me vials of blood my entire life. He died four years ago, my reserves ran out two years after that. I'm running on fumes, to be honest, and I am really fucking terrifié. If I can get the remaining people out of the city, I will. If not, will you?"
Emeralds glistened, tears waiting to be shed. Not in his presence. Woman held back, knowing she already gave off vulnerable in spades.
Dracula may as well hit her over the head with it, drink his fill and stalk off, nightly hunt on the agenda.
"I know you must feed regularly, but, I ask that you refrain from killing people. At least, not just for fun? Their morale is already low, they're ready to hit rock bottom, oblivion. I know what that feels like, Prince, and I would not wish wanting to die because you are so fucking miserable, you cannot find a way out of the darkness, its hold choking you on them. You reside in that darkness, become one with it."
Dracula turned back on her, pain lancing through chest, recalling emotion from his human existence.
It was concern, he was unsure, insecurity crippled him when mortal, gripping heart, twisting precious organ, dropping it suddenly, pulling it up again like yo-yo.
He hated feeling out of control, control was something that was necessary, given his status. What he was exuded immense strength.
Right now? The Prince felt barren. Power eluded him, running from grasp, darting out of eye line.
"You speak of death as an old friend."
Aline paused.
"I, I don't think of it as friend, nor adversaire. More a companion. After losing my Mother, finding her skeletal corpse lying in bed, when five minutes prior, she was well, watching several friends wilt, then my Father, lying in his coffin, shoving a stake through his chest, I think it will always be there, no matter how far I run, where I turn. It stalks me, right now."
"Your blood smells bitter, it is darker than it should be."
"Deoxygenated. I looked it up. It means oxygen isn't circulating as well as it should be. I grow tired quickly, weak, dizzy. Thanks for the reminder that my humanity is failing me..."
She was teasing, man knew, but, after hearing her story, remainder mortality, last vestiges of Gabriel knew her pain, knew loss, had grieved for those, and himself, until he made himself sick, bile not the worst thing he'd brought up, first attempts at bleeding something, someone dry resulting in profuse bouts of vomiting...
"Aline."
Dracula faced her, offering hand.
"Your idea is amiable. Do what you can, until the end."
Aline grinned, white teeth glimmering under street light. Shaking man's hand felt like she'd shoved hers in a freezer.
"Thank you. I will go out fighting, I assure you."
She walked away, coyly, hand on hip, shaking the other to try and 'warm it up.'
The Dragon began walking beside her, seeing she was unarmed.
"I couldn't well go to the pub with guns and knives now, could I? People would think I'd come to rob the place. I appreciate the chivalry." She mused, vying to quiz man. "Or is it simply wishing to know where I live?"
Smirking, man's vicious fangs freaked Aline out, and he knew it.
His smirk grew, steps impetuous, woman purposefully slowing down.
She'd 'claim' it was to accommodate his form, walkway being rather tight for two people to walk next to one another.
The reality was she was frightened, looming figure before her's irises aglow, fire being stoked.
Since no one was around, woman figured it must be her doing the stoking, poker in hand, wondering whether or not to use it, protect herself.
"You're tracking me, aren't you? Since I am not bleeding, and I know that vampires track their prey through taking small amounts of blood from them...so, that means you wish to do that with me?"
She baulked.
"Yes."
Resisting calling her a 'clever girl,' statement crass, and incorrect, given woman was, clearly a woman.
He would deny looking her over, but he had, frame slight, lithe, everything small, from the angles he'd been privy too.
He knew she'd given him once over, tilted head, ever so innocently, when her scent, underneath perfume spoke of mischief, unbidden thoughts woman had none to share with.
She kept herself to herself for too long.
As had he.
Seeking affection wasn't on either of their agendas.
Having someone to speak to, whether topic vulgar, chat indecent, was change both welcomed.
Positive change, addition, making change from constant battle, bloodshed, entrails replacing rubbish on the ground...
"Okay." Aline gave consent. "One thing?" Freshest Spring green eyes questioned, Dracula nodding. "You do brush those teeth, don't you? Wouldn't want to die of some blood-borne infection. Considering the things you slaughter? I can't possibly know if they are clean or not."
"Aline," Dracula sighed, pinching bridge of nose, "I check their blood, first. Its texture, scent before I drink it. I know the difference between healthy and unhealthy beings. If I didn't, I would have perished long ago."
Aline held up hands.
"I am clean too, just so's you know. I have not been 'tainted' by lying with men. What people believed in the past amuses and saddens me, given the consequences."
"You assume I ascribe to that way of thinking, due to my 'great age?'"
The way vampire said that made human chortle.
"Okay," she acquiesced, "okay. Come on up. I look like a harlot, standing on a street corner with a man. My apartment block is empty, save for me, so we won't be disturbed."
Taking key from purse, Aline let Dracula in, telling him she gave him permission to enter, much to his beguilement...
She washed her hands, refusing to let Dracula near until he had done the same. He'd decided to cut near her collarbone, it could be masked easily, would not cause adverse effects.
She had to imbibe some of his blood too, woman not so keen, but understanding reasoning.
He could locate her, wherever she resided.
He would also feel when she passed on. Whenever the person he had bitten shuffled off this mortal coil, he felt their pulse cease, without need to touch them, as they slumped to the ground.
Blood carried energy, Aline's growing tepid, faint, her blood thick in his mouth, pulse thundering as he suckled.
She chose not to look at him, moment strange enough, without openly staring.
She, instead laved tongue over his forearm, lapping up liquid, scent heavy, iron, tad bit nauseating.
It would take time for the two to adjust to having something other than misery in their lives.
To let themselves feel something other than that even more time.
Time was plenteous, for one.
Time was strained, for the other.
It was up to them how they spent their share, given one held ninety nine percent, other one...