Chapter 29: Innocence Lost

Braila

The stench of smoke was still thick in the air even as the sun went down.

Hector, personally, couldn't wait to leave. But he had promised to keep watch out for Carmilla until the sun set. It was the very last thing he was going to do for her. He'd had enough of her games. He sat outside the building, drawing in the dirt with a stick. Behind him, the door opened and he heard Carmilla's voice.

'Is the sun down yet?'

He turned his head away from her. 'Not quite.'

She still stepped out, cowled to protect herself from the remaining sunlight and huffed. 'Oh, for God's sake!' She lifted her chin. 'Where are the townspeople?'

'They're not coming close to us,' Hector said. 'They spent the day recovering things from the ruins. They started returning to the furtherest houses a little while ago.'

'Do they know we're here?' Carmilla walked around the edge of the shadows.

Hector sighed and dropped his head. 'Certainly.'

'So they are barricading their homes and sharpening their stakes. That's fair.' She moved again. 'Can't say I blame them.'

Hector fiddled with his stick, considering.

'You won't stake me to death with that, Hector,' she told him, evidently reading his thoughts off his face or body language or something.

Hector glanced at her and then looked at the stick. He chuckled. 'I wasn't intending to try. I was thinking it might make a drill to start a fire. It's gonna be a cold night.'

'We won't be staying,' Carmilla stated.

'The fire was for me, not you,' Hector said. 'I assume you don't really feel the cold.'

Carmilla laughed and then sat down. She was silent throughout the rest of the sunset. Only when the sun had completely disappeared below the horizon did she move. She put an arm out of her cloak before she shed the whole thing and stood up again. Hector would be glad when she was gone.

He looked up at her. 'Where will you go?'

'I think I will return to Styria,' Carmilla said. 'What else is there? The majority of my forces were here and now they are gone.'

Hector asked the question that'd been plaguing him for nearly twelve hours. 'What was that? The way the castle moved and then vanished? I've been thinking about it nearly all day. I...I still don't understand.'

Carmilla looked back at him. She sighed in clear irritation. 'What is there to understand?' She paced closer to him. 'A spell captured the castle. The engines of the castle attempted to fight the capture, and so it thrashed around like a rat in a cage. And lost.'

Hector looked up at her, alarmed. He then frowned and looked across to where the castle was before it was grabbed. 'Do you think Dracula lives?'

'No.'

Hector's head snapped around to look at her. She'd moved right next to him without him noticing. 'We have viewed the castle with mirrors.'

Denial set in. 'But you can't be sure.'

'I can.' Carmilla smirked at him. 'Dracula is dead, Hector.'

He stared up at her and then looked down mournfully.

'Does that trouble you?' she asked, almost mockingly.

'Of course it does!' he snapped.

'Poor Hector. Stand up for me.'

Hector looked up at her suspiciously, even as she offered him her hand. He stood up without taking it. He didn't know what she was up to, but he had learned not to trust the devious woman before him. Carmilla put a hand on his shoulder and moved around so that she was standing directly in front of him.

'Hector,' she said, 'you look like shit.'

He put a hand to his head and scoffed. 'I know.'

'Don't worry. We'll look after you.'

Hector went to ask what she meant when he suddenly felt something cold and metal be clamped around his neck. His eyes widened and darted to the side as two of Carmilla's vampire soldiers appeared over his shoulder. They clamped onto both of his arms and both of his shoulders. Despite knowing how much stronger than him they were, Hector began to struggle against their hold.

'Carmilla, what are you doing?' he demanded.

The collar around his neck was pulled out, forcing him back. One hand gripped his hair.

Carmilla looked over her shoulder carelessly. 'I must return to Styria. With my forces decimated, the humans of this region weakened, and a void in the power structure of the vampire world, I intend to take advantage of that. But I need my strength returned. I need a hoarde as Dracula had. And you are a forgemaster.' She put a painted claw to his forehead and pushed his head back. 'You will create the hoarde for me.'

'Go to hell!' Hector snapped jerking his head away. He'd been loyal to Dracula!

He'd never do it for her!

As he struggled the grip on his hair tightened and he grunted in pain.

Carmilla laughed.

The next thing he knew, it felt like a brick hit his face. He was let go only so he could be thrown to the ground with the force of the hit. Hector barely knew what'd happened. His face was throbbing and there was the metalic taste of blood on his tongue. He was determined not to let her see him cowed. He pushed himself up but he only got up to his hands and knees. Then her high-heeled foot pushed him back.

As he struggled to catch his breath, Carmilla looked down at him as if he was shit under her shoe. 'Get up.'

The chain around his neck was pulled and he was forcefully yanked to his feet. He barely knew what'd happened – only saw a flash of Carmilla – before he was sent stumbling across the stone verandah. He spun around and watched as the vampiress walked over to the other end of the chain around his neck, shaking her wrist as she went.

The laughter that came out of her was akin to that of a joyful child. She jumped at him. He jerked back but she landed on the chain and his head was jerked painfully. She laughed again and straightened up, curling her hand into a fist, as he tried to recover. Hector watched the fist fearfully as her brain struggled to comprehend just what he'd gone and gotten himself into.

Then she grabbed his chain and yanked him forward. She took a hold of his jaw and pulled him upright. Fear paralysed him and he offered no resistance. 'You are my pet now.' She turned his head. 'My pet forgemaster.'

Then he was thrown back.

He barely had any clue of what happened next. All he knew was pain. Pain in his gut, in his back, in his face. He could do nothing to defend himself from this monster. And, through it all, he heard nothing but Carmilla's delighted laughter. He finally lifted his hands. She seemed to stop. It was enough for him to open his eyes and see her standing over him, covered in blood splatters – his blood.

'Oh.' She looked europhic. 'Huh. Good pet.' She licked his blood off of her fingers. She then turned and spoke to the other vampires. 'To Styria!'

Hector crumpled to the ground.

He was no longer so naive as to imagine he'd just be left there. His chain was grabbed and he was hauled up to his feet. He was dragged across to Carmilla's horse and then tied to it. Was this really what he'd considered humane treatment; what he'd been willing to subject other humans to? He was beginning to wonder why.

It was all he could do to stumble along behind them.

The smell of the blood (more than just Hector's) had concealed something from the noses of Carmilla and her vampire cohort. A set of human eyes had watched the whole thing in mute horror. The boy's mother had locked him in the cellar for safety before she'd run out looking for her husband.

There was a small bar window near the cellar roof, though. The boy, after waking to find his mother still gone had worked his way up there. He was trapped down here but he could still see out to what happened on the surface when the sun went down. Long after the vampires left with their hostage, he was still frozen.

Then a new person entered the area.

This person was also a vampire – of a sort. Due to the fact that the new person's vampirism did not revolve around blood, he was not distracted by the scent of it. Because of what his vampirism did focus on, he noticed the boy's presence instantly. He walked past the verandah where Hector had been beaten, glancing at the blood splatters with passing curiousity, and then walked over to the small window.

Crouching down, he peered in and met the boy's eyes. 'Hello, sonny,' he said in an odd accent. 'You just hang on a moment and I'll have you right out.'

The man straightened up and with the sound of wood tearing, it wasn't long until fresh air entered the cellar. The boy looked up in alarm, his throat tightening in fear.

'No, no,' the man said. 'I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help.' The stranger reached in and, as gentle as his own father when the boy was ill, the strange man lifted him off of the stack of crates he'd used to get up here. 'There. Are you all right, now?'

The boy promptly burst into tears.