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!"