West Bridge wall, a cold ocean breeze came over him. He smiled as he felt the wind almost pushing him.
In his ears he could hear its echo on his chest he could feel its cool
touch. He opened the face of his waistcoat watch and judged that he should
head back to the villa now. He smiled one last time at the sight of the
sun shining over the horizon and his beautiful ship anchored next to the
bridge before he left. Mary would be awake and helping to cook breakfast
in the kitchen. Never mind the fact that they had servants that could do
it for her, she always had to have a hand in everything. Sometimes he thought
that's why he loved her so much. She was so involved with everything around
her. The only exception was Jeremiah's digs. She rarely came by the site
as she found the ruins very disturbing. He didn't blame her, they are after
all a very grim place place with a very grim history. Jeremiah patted the
head of his horse and prepared to head home. He looked back and into the
wagon. Its contents were the latest batch of artifacts from his
excavations of the land surrounding the villa. Several years ago, Jeremiah
brought his family to this island. With him, he brought his many servants
as well as the men and tools to build a villa for his family.
Some might ask why he would move his family from the quiet and luxurious
life they had in England to this supposedly barren and haunted spot. His
answer was a simple one. This infamous island was his home. Being the adopted
son of a wealthy English family, Jeremiah was a man obsessed with tracing
his roots. Eventually he found out his true family was connected to a well-known
Wallachian prince. The prince's name was Vlad Dracula or Vlad Tepes, the
Impaler. It is a name that in this particular area had quite a dark reputation.
Of course Jeremiah never let superstitious nonsense to get in his way.
He moved his family to his ancestral seat in the hopes of reclaiming some
of his former family's history. With him he had brought his wife Mary and
son Henry. Both were totally devoted to him and therefore understood his
constant yearning to fill this gap that was inside him. When he and his
family arrived on the island, it
was deserted. The only sign that it was ever inhabited was the large
number of ruins scattered throughout the island. In all the years he had
lived on the island with his family they had never received any visitors.
Now Jeremiah breathed very slightly and careful not excite the man who stood before. He never expected to have a pistol aimed at his face so obviously when this mysterious man came down from the trees, Jeremiah was more than a little surprised.
"Who are you and what are you doing on this island?" The man said
through a black and
overgrown beard.
"We live here sir. This island is my home."
"Your home? Where is the castle?"
"Castle? What do you mean?"
"This is the foggy lake is it not? The villagers told me this
was the one. The one with the island
where the castle sits. So where is the castle?"
The Master Oldrey was now intrigued. "There hasn't been a castle
here for more than a hundred
years if my study is right."
"Study?"
"Yes. I'm an amateur archeologist. I'm studying the ruins of this castle."
The man then put his pistol down and actually seated himself next
to Master Oldrey. Then he
began to run his fingers through his beard and think. Oldrey took this
opportunity to ask the man his name.
"My name? Coller, Coller the Hunter."
"Coller? Well I am Jeremiah Oldrey, master of this island and the villa that sits on it. Now if you promise me to put away your guns then I will take you to it. There you may clean yourself, which you are in dire need of, and you may also tell me your tale. If you say that you are looking for the castle that once stood on this island then I am much interested in your story."
Coller felt confused. He had not slept in days, weeks even. He
needed rest. But he must find the
castle. He was sure that the castle would be here. Actrise said that
it would be here that he would get his chance to save Gen. He put his pistols
away. A smile came across Master Oldrey's face. "Take me," Coller said
to him. Then, slowly, he drifted into unconsciousness. Oldrey looked at
his visitor, "what an extraordinary fellow." Then he continued his way
home. The forest surrounding the villa was barely a real forest. It wasn't
very thick which made the trail home very easy to make. It took very little
time for Oldrey to reach the fenced area, which was the entrance to his
villa. The fence went all around the villa, surrounding the garden maze
that lay in back of it. The maze was just a way of bringing life back to
this desolate island. His servants had spent months planting trees and
bushes. It had taken a while but the place eventually began to look like
home. The villa itself was a luxurious two-floor mansion. Inside there
were enough rooms for all ten servants as well as an archive room, a kitchen,
and dinner room. Oldrey rode his wagon through the fenced driveway until
he reached the fountain circle. The circle was right in front of the villa
and had a large fountain in the center. He stopped the wagon near the steps
to the entrance of the villa. Oldrey saw Victor, the gardener, tending
to the bushes that grew in the front.
"Good morning to you Victor," Oldrey said.
Victor was a very large and muscular man. He had deep set eyes
and short dark hair. He wore
merely green trousers and a brown vest that hid nothing of his brutish
strength. His foreboding
appearance was contrasted by his gentle personality. Anyone who truly
knew Victor knew that he wouldn't hurt a fly. He was a former athlete turned
timid gardener.
"Good morning to you Master Oldrey. I believe the Lady Oldrey is awake and expecting you."
"Thank you Victor. I say could you help me with something. I picked
up something on my way
home, and its quite heavy I'm afraid."
Victor sheathed his machete and walked towards the wagon. The
only indication that he was
surprised to find Coller sitting in the wagon seat next to Oldrey was
a brief pause followed by, "the latest artifact Master Oldrey?" Oldrey
merely began laughing. "Have him placed in that guest room that we never
thought would ever come into good use," Oldrey instructed.
Coller awoke to the sound of running water. When he opened his
eyes they were blurry and thus
hid all detail of where he was. He was only able to make out the figure
of a woman sitting at his bedside.
"Gen?"
"No," the female figure replied. "But if I ever meet this Gen
I will assuredly tell her of you
unrelenting feelings for her. Even in your sleep you did not stop calling
her name."
With his eyes now in focus, Coller could see more clearly the
features of the woman sitting next
to him. She had long brown hair and pale skin. Her accent was every
bit the proper English woman. Her blue eyes were intent on making sure
the water she was pouring did not spill. Finally she put down the large
pitcher of water and offered Coller a glass of water.
"Please drink. I'm afraid you were quite dehydrated when you stumbled upon my husband."
Coller took the glass and stared at it for a moment before chugging
it down in one gulp. He then
extended it towards her indicating he wanted more.
"Thank you…"
"Mary. Being the very first guest to ever stay with us, you may call me Mary."
Coller then noticed a pair of eyes looking at him from the very
end of the king-sized bed he lay
in. As soon as he made eye contact a sudden thump was heard.
"As for the short gentleman lying on the floor. Well that is my
son, Henry. Are you all right
Henry?" The mother asked with tenderly concern. Suddenly a small blond
boy jumped from under the bed with a curious look in his face.
"Are you a vampire?"
"Henry!"
"What? Papa said only vampires live on this island."
"That's quite enough that. You know very well that Mr. Coller here is not a vampire."
"Could he be a werewolf then? Are you a werewolf Mr. Coller?"
Coller then said in his most terrifying voice, "yes, and I haven't had a little boy for breakfast in a long time." Coller said it so seriously that even Mary had almost believed it. But when she saw the smile in Coller's face she felt relieved again.
"Run along now Henry. You have studies to do."
Henry immediately turned with his hands in his pockets and walked
towards the door. Under his
breath he muttered something along the lines of, "I'll never get to
see an ugly monster."
Mary then turned back to Coller and handed him another glass of
water. "Please forgive my son.
He obviously is not use to having visitors around."
"Its alright madam."
"He should know better than that anyway. Vampires are only awake
during the night. And
werewolves are only wolves at night as well."
Coller looked at her with an odd expression. Mary saw his disturbed
look and explained. "What
would my mother think of me now? Talking of vampires and werewolves.
My husband is an expert on the subject. As a result, so is everyone in
this villa."
"What about witches?"
"I believe he knows about them too. I've asked him not to scare
poor Henry with stories. Lucky
for me Henry isn't scared by any of it." A smile crept onto her face.
"By all accounts it should scare me too. Such an 'unladylike' theme I suppose.
It's one of the reasons why I love him so. He was never afraid to tell
me anything. He never treated me like I was anymore fragile than the next
person. That was something quite uncommon in a man. Most of the suitors
that my mother wanted me to marry thought I was to hard headed and meddlesome
in things that I shouldn't meddle in."
"To independent."
"Exactly."
Coller looked away. He was focused on one of the paintings that hung on the wall. "Gen was like that."
"Really?"
Coller didn't smile. He just said in a low tone of voice, "you would have liked her."
"Liked?" Before Mary could continue he question, the Master Oldrey entered the room.
"Ah, Mr. Coller. How are you feeling?"
"Coller will do just fine. I'm not really accustomed to being a 'Mr.'"
"Coller it is then. How do you feel?"
"Better, much better. Look, I am sorry for the whole bit with the gun."
Mary shot a glance at her husband when Coller said the word "gun". Oldrey
merely continued
smiling.
"It's quite all right. You were delusional. Right now what interests me is the castle."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you spoke of finding a castle. I was curious as to which one
and why you thought it was
here."
At this point Mary interceded, "Jeremiah, he's are guest and should
rest in bed until he feels
ready to speak to us on the matter."
"I'm sorry Mary. She's right, I some times lose my manners."
"I'm Scottish sir. As far as I am concerned, you English have too many
manners as it is. No
offense."
"None taken. I'm not really English anyway."
"Besides sir. I'm feeling quite all right. I'd like to continue on my
quest as it were." Coller then
rose from the bed and began to look for his clothes. "I appreciate
the lone of the garments but I'd prefer my own," Coller said referring
to clothes he had on. Mary quickly handed him his clothes.
"I will let you gentlemen talk alone then. I will be downstairs if you need me Jeremiah."
"Thank you Mary," Oldrey said to his wife as she left the room. It seemed
within the split second
that Oldrey had turned to thank his wife, Coller had literally jumped
into his clothes. He now stood before Oldrey with his coat over his shoulders.
"I thought Coller, I might explain to you first what I am doing here.
Then that might help you
when you tell me your tale."
"Thank you…um…"
"Jeremiah will do fine"
"Jeremiah. I'm actually very curious as to what you are doing on this here island."
"Well then, allow me to start at the beginning then. My name, as you
already know, is Jeremiah
Oldrey. I am the adopted son of a wealthy English family. I was raised
in England but all my life I have been pursued by this unquenchable thirst
to know where I truly come from. I loved my adopted parents but I want
to know where I came from. Of course when I became old enough I began my
studies and found that my heritage lies deep within this province. I moved
here with my family because I learned that my family was apparently tied
to a family that made it's home here on a castle that once stood on this
very island. The family's connection to mine I have yet to discover. It
may well be that they are my family or perhaps distant cousins. Nevertheless,
they lived here under the rule of Wallachia's most infamous prince, Dracula.
I came here in hopes of finding some clue to my family tree. And there
you have it. I have dedicated my life to the history of this province.
In coming here I knew that the secret to my family's history lies underneath
the ruins of the castle."
"An what have your studies told you."
"My family is inexplicably linked to this Dracula fellow. In learning
all I can about him, I learn
all I can about my past."
"Aye. Well then perhaps it is fate that I find you."
"Oh?"
"What do you know of witches?"
"Witches, women who are powerful in the ways of magic? There have been
stories of both good
and evil witches. The good ones were known for their great healing
power and their kindness. The evil ones were known for their interference
in the lives of mortal beings. They have a never-ending blood feud with
good witches."
"You say they interfere with mortal beings. Does that mean you canne kill them?"
"Only one skilled in the ways of magic. But that's all superstition of course."
Coller looked hard at Oldrey. For a moment Oldrey thought that Coller
was going to attack him.
"I came here because a witch by the name of Actrise put a curse on
the woman I love. I tell you. All of those stories are true."
"Actrise?"
"You know of her?"
"Vaguely. She was one of the most powerful and oldest of her kind. Evil
beyond imagination the
legends say. Apparently she was nearing the end of her existence and
needed the soul of another to replenish hers. The legend says she took
two young girls and showed them the ways of magic. She then took the soul
of one of them. But when she went to work on the other, the other had learned
well and managed to push her off. The two girls had apparently been sisters
so obviously the survivor said she would take her revenge. Apparently ever
since then, Actrise has had it in for this girl and her descendants in
a very personal way. Belmundes or something along those lines."
Coller looked away and muttered something under his breath.
"Come and walk with me. I have something to show you."
"Where are my guns by the way?"
Oldrey looked at him for a moment. His instincts told him not to trust
this stranger. He shouldn't
risk his family over some stranger with guns. But the man's eyes told
a different tale from the dehydrated and delusional actions from before.
"Under your bed. They will be waiting for you when we return. You have my word."
Together they walked out of the room and Coller got his first glimpse
at where he was. Outside
the bedroom was a much larger room. It was almost like a hallway Coller
thought. There were a number of doors on either side which led to the servant's
quarters. Too his right was the main door, which had two very large windows
on either side. The room had many candles, which would presumably light
the house at night. Coming down the center was a large staircase leading
up to the second floor. Hanging from the roof was an extravagant chandelier.
Coller was impressed at the luxury of Oldrey's home.
"Quite a place you have here."
"Oh you should have seen our house in England."
"English…"
"What was that?"
"Oh nothing, just wondering what it was you wanted me to see."
Oldrey led him up the stairs. On the second floor were several more
doors and quite a few
paintings. He led Coller to the leftmost door that led into a hallway
lit by torches. "This leads us into Mary's little rose garden," Oldrey
said. "I won't let her work herself to death in the maze so I let her have
this one." The garden at the end of the hallway was in a medium sized room.
It was circular with a skylight that allowed light to touch the circular
nest of roses in the center of the room. One wall of the room, the side
with the windows looking out, had yet another patch of roses. "Peaceful,"
Coller said.
Oldrey led him up another flight of stairs, which took them into a hallway. They continued walking down the hallway passing several servants, until it began to turn right. After turning right they entered through the only door. This door led into a room with a long table with books scattered all over it. Sitting in one of the chairs at the table was Henry. He looked up excitedly and immediately jumped at his father.
"Papa!"
Oldrey smiled and picked his son up from the ground for a moment before letting him back down. "Getting a little too big for that aren't you. Or am I just getting old?"
"Your not old Papa. Where are you taking the stranger?"
"My name is Coller," the hunter said to the young boy.
"To the archives. I want to show him the result of all my work."
"Can I come?"
"What did your mother say to do?"
Almost whispering Henry said, "to get on with my studies."
"Well I suppose that frown on your face means that you can spare a few
minutes." Henry hugged
his father upon hearing it. "Only a few minute now."
"Yes father."
"Come Coller, now you will see what I have been digging around for."
Oldrey pulled out a key and opened the door on the far side of the room
that led to the archives.
The archive room was a rather large room with various bookcases on
almost every wall. If a wall was not covered with a bookcase then it was
a glass case that displayed artifacts of varying shapes and sizes. On one
of the tables in the room, the Master Oldrey gestured to a finely covered
book.
"This Coller is a written record of all that you see around you. It
is probably the most complete
record of the surrounding countryside in existence. No one knows this
province's history better than I do."
Coller looked onto one of the others tables. It was littered with various
dusty artifacts. "That is
the latest batch," Oldrey said to him. "I have yet to catalog them."
Then Coller felt the tugging of his sleeve. It was Henry.
"Come Mister Coller, let me show you what I found." Coller was then dragged over to one corner of the archives. On one of the walls inside a window case was an oddly shaped crest, or so it seemed.
"What is it?"
Oldrey explained as he walked over, "It is half of some stone crest.
The image engraved on it is
unlike anything I have ever seen." Coller looked at the image and saw
it was a face. Although only half of it was there, he could almost swear
that he could see the evil in it. Besides being only half the image, the
image itself was scratched with something inscribed underneath.
"I believe that the image engraved on it is Vlad Dracula's. The image
though has been scarred
off on purpose. Why I have no idea."
"And what of the writing?"
"I have tried to translate it through several languages but it doesn't
make sense in any of them.
The only one that comes close to meaning anything is in an ancient
language, which no one knows where it originated. Legends differ on its
origin. Some say it is the language of vampires, although there has never
been any evidence that they have a language of their own. If the legends
are true then an English vampire should speak English and a Spanish vampire
should speak Spanish. Another legend says it is the language of evil, but
of course that's ridiculous. After all, how could "evil" have a language
of it own?"
"What does it translate to?"
"Olrox."
"That remotely makes sense?"
"Well I say it remotely makes sense because there is, of course, a legend
about a vampire named
Olrox."
"How does it go?"
"Well it's not just one. Basically the legends say that Dracula was
almost like the right hand man
of the devil. But everyone else in the "netherworld" as the call it,
was also vying for that position. So apparently Dracula's position in hell
was under a constant attack from other less evil fellows who wanted their
chance at being the second evilest demon in hell. Olrox was one of them.
If I apply the legend to reality I suppose we can assume that perhaps Olrox
got control of part of Dracula's castle and therefore put his name on it.
In the legends it could be plausible."
"Why?"
"Well apparently almost a hundred years ago there was this huge civil
war in the underworld.
Dracula was apparently doing rather badly and all of the sudden all
of these aspiring Dracula's started to come from nowhere and take over
parts of the castle. All of them thought that they could all do a much
better job of ruling the world than Dracula could."
"And what happened?"
"No one knows. Soon after the castle just fell apart. I spoke to some village people who claim that their parent told them about that night. Stories about lights in the sky and a second castle coming out of the clouds."
Coller suddenly felt drawn to somewhere. He looked around and slowly
began walking towards
the table littered with the latest artifacts. He dug through several
of the artifacts. Behind him Oldrey and Henry watched. Finally Coller retrieved
what he was being drawn to. When Oldrey saw it he immediately knew what
it was and slapped his hands together and smiled as he patted Coller on
the back.
"How ever did you now that it was the second half of the crest?"
"I don't know," Coller said. In his ears he could hear a voice like
a whisper. It was Actrise, and
she was laughing. Suddenly all of the energy in Coller's body was drained
from him and he felt limp. He fell to the ground unconscious.
"Henry, call one of the servants, now!" Oldrey dove down and began to check Coller's condition.
"Still breathing," he muttered under his breath. Within seconds Henry came rushing back in with several servants. Oldrey gave quick instructions to have him placed back in his bed. As the servants carried him away with Henry straggling behind watching, Oldrey clutched the second half of the crest, "Thank you Coller."
For several hours Coller lay motionless on his bed. Mary had told her
husband of her concern
that there was something seriously wrong with him.
"He's not even calling out to that girls name anymore."
"And what is that supposed to mean Mary?" Oldrey said sitting at a desk
in the archives reading
through various papers in front of him. The two crest halves, now together,
lay very close to him.
"Jeremiah, we have a sick guest and here you are toying with that God awful piece of rock!"
Still not looking up Oldrey replied calmly, "Coller fell after picking
this crest up. I think if I find
out what the crest is all about we might be a step closer to finding
how we can help Coller."
"Jeremiah A. Oldrey, in all our years of marriage you have never ever
let yourself believe in any
of the superstitions that you study. Why have you all the sudden changed
that?"
"Because my love I think Coller is…I don't know, all I do know is that
I sense something is
wrong here."
"Well I've asked some of the servants to go to the shore and find a
doctor for Coller…" Oldrey
suddenly looked up from his papers.
"When did you send them?"
"Just now, why? Victor is seeing them off now."
Oldrey jumped from his seat and stormed out of the room and began running
down the hall. He
rushed down the stairs nearly crashing into a servant. Finally he reached
the front of the villa and jumped on the first horse he saw and galloped
away as fast as the horse would allow. He galloped for what seemed like
hours. Oldrey could feel each second as it ticked away and with each second
he hoped he was wrong.
As soon as the island wall came into view he began yelling, "Victor!" When Victor came into view he was standing next to his horse waving.
"Victor! Stop them!"
Upon hearing this Victor turned and did as his Master ordered. When
Oldrey reached him he got
off his horse and joined him. "Stop!" they both yelled.
"It's no good sir. They are already to far away. Why did you want me
to stop them?" Victor
asked.
A sudden roar filled the air followed by a few short screams. Victor
and Oldrey looked at each
other for a moment. "That's why. Oh God forgive me," Oldrey said. The
forest and ocean suddenly became very silent. All they could feel was a
great cold breeze coming from within the fog. As Oldrey yelled, "back,
get back," a tidal wave of water washed over them. As the water washed
over Oldrey he felt something hard hit against his head. After the water
receded, Victor picked his master up from the ground. Lying all around
where they had fallen were pieces of wood. Victor held back the urge to
cry out as he looked at all that was left of a small boat that had carried
two friends very dear to him.
Chapter 11:The Castle Returns