Nicola woke and stretched sleepily as she rolled onto her side on the bed. She sighed contentedly, enjoying the feel of the silk covers on her skin. She started to close her eyes again when her mind jerked her back to reality and her eyes shot open. What had happened and where was she? She remembered running to help Arene then nothing more...no wait...there had been dancing and music and...no...it was gone. She looked around. She was lying on a large bed in a grand room, decorated in the style of an 18th century lady's chamber. She sat up and moved over to a nearby window, flinging open the drapes. Sunlight poured in and she looked out. She was high up. Down below her was an Italian garden...but no sign of anyone. She felt a little weak and the sun was hurting her eyes so she drew the curtains back across and turned back to the room. There was a door opposite. She rushed over and tried the handle. Locked. Was she a prisoner? The Count! She had been dancing with him. Yes that was it. It was then that she realised that her black dress was missing. In its place she wore long, flowing, pale blue robes. They didn't leave much to the imagination she thought, blushing. She looked for a mirror but couldn't see one anywhere. Then she spotted the bottle and parchment on the table. She went over and read the note, written in an elegant hand.
My Dear
Do not worry, you are
quite safe and I shall be with you shortly. You are the chosen one,
Nicola.
I have left you something to quench your thirst.
Until
tonight
Count Vladislaus Dragulia
She looked at the bottle.
Red Wine. Next to it stood a golden goblet. She was thirsty. No, she
had to get out of here and find Arene. Her new friend would know what
to do. Still...it wouldn't be easy to find a way out of here and so
she might as well have a drink first. She poured a small amount into
the goblet. It looked like blood against the gold. "Don't be
silly," she thought, raising the cup to her lips. An odd taste.
Slightly metallic but not unpleasant. She reached for the bottle
again.
Her lord would be with her soon. He had chosen her and
he was now her master. He had great plans for her. Arene. The name
came into her mind, making her frown for a moment. No. She didn't
know any Arene. It was just her and her lord and she would obey him
forever because she loved him.....
Arene froze in fear as Dracula gently
took her hand and pulled her into a dance. Try as she might, Arene
could not escape his grasp! He laughed quietly at her attempts.
"You
needn't struggle, my dear," Dracula told her, "If all you
want is to be with your friend, I can make that happen. Just accept
my spell. You will be my second bride."
Arene eyed him
angrily.
"Over my dead body!"
Dracula gently caressed her cheek.
"Then I have no choice. I can't
have you telling my secret, it would attract too much attention."
"Go
ahead," Arene challenged him, "kill me! I'm not afraid to
die!"
"Oh, no." Dracula said, "I'm not going
to kill you. Death is too easy a ticket out for you. I do need a good
whipping slave. Even thought it would be a shame to cover such a
lovely girl in scars."
"Just let Nicola and the others
go, I'll do whatever you want!" she said, trying to get away
from him.
"You don't have any say in the matter, my dear,"
Dracula told her, leading her over to a door. "By tonight, you
will have a new master, just like the others...me."
"I
have no master!" she hissed.
Dracula smiled.
"We will see my dear, but don't
get your hopes up. You will suffer for resisting me. First, a change
of clothes."
He waved his hand and suddenly Arene felt much
colder. She looked down, no longer was she wearing jeans and a nice
T-shirt, but a muddy brown, torn shirt and long, torn pants. She
looked like a slave from the medieval times. She felt a leather
collar placed around her neck.
"Second," Dracula said,
raising his hand, "the first blow." He struck her across
the face, drawing blood. Arene flinched, but showed no emotions. A
stream of blood ran down her cheek. Dracula smiled.
"Good,"
he said as he ran his finger along the trail of blood and licked it
off, watching Arene cringe.
"I'm not afraid of you."
"I
know," he answered as he shoved her over and into a
room.
"Should you change your mind, Arene, let me know. I
will make you my bride. You and Nicola will be perfect as my
brides."
"What have you done with her?" Arene
spat.
"She is safe," Dracula told her, before he slammed
the door and locked it, leaving Arene in darkness. "But you WILL
see her soon. After I have changed her."
Arene rose to her feet and ran to the
door. It was bolted shut. Dracula wasn't taking any chances. He
didn't want her talking. Backing up, Arene ran and charged into the
door, hoping to break it down. But she fell back and felt the skin on
her arm split, blood spilling down her arm.
"I can't stop,"
she told herself, "I've got to help Nicola!"
She bashed
into the door again and failed once more. Over and over again she
tried to break the door down, but it never worked. Shaking her head,
she fell to the knees and began to cry.
"Nicola... I'm sorry.
I'm pathetic... I'm sorry I couldn't help you."
"Giving
up already?" a voice ran through her mind. "Come on, Arene,
you're stronger than that!"
Arene stood up and looked
around the room. There was nobody there. But... she knew that
voice!
"Van Helsing?" she asked.
No answer... but she
felt stronger than ever. Using all her might, she rammed into the
door and... it broke open! She was back on the dance floor. Not that
anyone noticed her. They were too under the spell. Arene breathed a
sigh of relief and ran out of the room.
"Don't worry, Nicola!
I'll find you and together we'll stop this!"
