Sarah Clayton gasped as the dark clad, yet compelling count of Transilvania suddenly snatched her arm with lightening-like reflexes. She saw him smile, knowing full well that he had some kind of mental hold on her...that he was in control through a means she could could not ascertain. Nor could she fight against it, struggle in fear as she might. His widow's-peak hair, slicked back and hansome, along with his round European features lent both charm and menace to his confident and cultured demeanor.
Though locked in place by the dangerous gentlemen's all-emcompusing stare, the educated and wordly school-marm was fully aware that she was in a trance. And through it she was able to detect a hint of royalty in his thick germanic accent. Hungarian?
"Back in the old country...my ancestral home in the Carpathian Mountains of Transillvania, you would be considered worthy of becomming a nobelwoman"
"H-how charming..." Sarah managed to respond distantly, her eyes glazed, while still fixxed in his seemingly hypnotic glare. There was the slightest hint of defience in her comely voice.
"It is desided, then." Count Dracula went on smoothly. "You, my sweet southern belle, shall accompany me on the long voyage my ship of passage will be undergoing before daylight tomorrow morning. You will become my bride of the night. You will be young and lovely...," His pause was naturally dramatic. "...forrrever." He neglected to inform her that one of several special boxs he brought with him for his home land was at this very moment being loaded back upon the ship moored down at the docks, along with his one clothing bag.
Without another word, he turned her slowly around with gentle deliberateness. His face held a look of satisfaction, tainted with an unstoppable hunger. Then, pulling her close to his dark form, against his immaculately kept tuxedo, Dracula parted his full, cruel lips, exposing clean, well nutured teeth. But at the same time he opened his mouth, two sets of opposing canines grew longer, sharper....deadlier. They oozed with syliva as he brought his newly grown fangs closer...closer to thier suculant, warm target.
Sarah Clayton felt the man's hot breath and knew her life would change soon. Inwardly preying to God for help...any help, she saw her own image in the hotel room's mirror as she willingly...yet not willingly, tilted her curly, raven black head to the left, baring her long slender neck to her captor's every whim. Somehow, through the intranced fog she suffered from, the reluctantly docile woman noticed something odd about her reflection...and that of Dracula.
He didn't have one.
The count from Transillvania almost lovingly tilted his head back slightly as if to plunge his extended fangs into the soft supple skin of his future eternal bride. The corners on his mouth curled up slightly with the knowledge of his success. The masked man who had rode quietly, protectively along side the Wells Fargo & Co. stage-coach as it transported passengers and a small gold shipment from the city of Silverado to the growing seaside town of Cayucos, California had made inquieries as to the origin points and destinations of the passengers, which included Miss Clayton and Dracula, himself. Through what felt like odd and often infernal 'accidental' meetings during the evening hours over the past three days, this self-styled 'ranger', as his suprisingly well educated native American side-kick had called him, had managed to devulge far too much information from the count and from his 'assistant' Barnard Toomy, whom Dracula had 'hired' to transport certain cargo-boxs containing a certain kind of dirt(from the count's country of origin) along and far behind the stage-coach in his covered wagon-for-rent. The assistant was simply a lacky, whom Dracula paid(and held under a mental sway during his month-long visit to this growing nation) to keep the count's resting place safe during the cursed day-light hours. Naturally, Dracula was forced to kill the overly talketive, insufferable slug for revealing too much to the masked man. He strongly suspected that the ranger made use of disguises and or alkaholic brine to trick Toomy. The fool, allowing himself to be played like a cheap flute. The discusted count could even taste the alkahol in Toomy's blood.
Dracula, himself now new he had also been tricked at various evening street-side 'chats' with the ranger. The masked man was a keen-minded and persistant individual. But it was all for naught. Soon the supple beauty in his grasp would be his...for eternity. And nothing this 'ranger' would attempt would alter that.
With a supreme pleasure of a wolf who had not fed of in weeks, Count Vlad Dracula flexxed the mucles of his neck in order to sink his bared fangs deep into the postrate Miss Clayton.
"STOP"
Dracula whirled around in suprise, shoving Sarah against the chest-of-draws in the process. He snarled animalistically at the source of the infernal interuption. Standing in 'Seaside Motel's' open terrace window Dracula himself had entered through by tricking Miss Clayton into thinking his own terrace door had jammed closed, was none other than the Ranger!
He stood there in his white cowboy hat, rugged light blue swede shirt and cream coloured pants, both clinging to his well honed muscular body. In his right hand was the purl handled weapon of choice. He was pointing it directly at Dracula's heart.
"Back away from the lady, Count Dracula...NOW!" The explosive sound of the ranger's voice called Sarah back from oblivion. She was leaning absent-mindedly against the chest-of-draws for support. She again looked in the mirror at herself. Shaking off the last affects of Count Dracula's captivating stare, she then saw with full awarenss, the aweful truth about the tuxedoed feind standing just behind her with his back to her and the mirrow. She looked, via the mirror in shock at the ranger. The ranger could see it, too.
Dracula had no reflection. He was a ghost...or some other horror she, nor the ranger could find the words to describe. She turned in place and there was Dracula in front of her. Just beyond him was the Ranger, moving only slightly closer while keeping the count at bay. The coyboy recovered quickly from his initial shock and realization of Dracula's obvious lack of a reflection. He and the Transillvanian locked eyes with one another. A stand-off of wills...as it was every time they had met(save for the one time that Dracula had failed to recognize the Ranger in disguise.
"Miss Clayton, has he harmed you in any way?" His voice was calm, assured. He had obviously dealt with criminals before, so she suspected he was being calm(for this was a very bizarre situation, indeed) due to reflex. "I'm fine...I guess." She felt her neck, remembering the count's heated breath as it grazed her skin like brimstonian steam. Jules Verne had never dreamed of this...person.
Almost immediatly, Dracula had taken on his own practised air of calm. He watched this lone ranger...watching him back from behind his black mask. Perhaps, reasoned the count, they were kindred spirits, of a sort. Two predators with entirely different designs in the art of survival.
Dracula, spoke as if he himself were the rescuer. "There was no need to shout, sirrr."chided the count almost casually, over-pronouncing the 'r's as he occassionaly did when speaking the Engligh tonge. "The lady and I were simply coming to...an understanding." He had cleverly kept his lips closed after his initial and angry reaction to the masked interloper's rude and, in Dracula's opinion, UN-wise interuption. This practised move was nessesary to allow the otherwise unbrideled count a moment to recover by reflexively retracting the fangs of his un-natural, animalistic side.
"I'm sure...." the ranger returned evenly. He knew otherwise. He knew this Count Vlad Dracula was a killer. But of what nature, the ranger didn't want to speculate. He could almost smell that this Transillvanian fellow was...Evil.
Dracula was cordial, speaking as if Sarah shared his disdainful opinion of the cowboy's interuption. "Please...join us. We bid you...welcome"
The masked man stole a glance at Sarah Clayton. She seemed to be recovering from whatever drug Dracula had given her. He didn't see any drinks in glasses anywhere in the room, nor any other evidence for that matter. He was un-aware that the Transillvanian-born nobelman was adept at a natural, or rather UN-natural hypnotic ability. The ranger instructed her to move away from the mirror and out from behind the count. As she complied, becomming more alert, the ranger kept a wary eye on Dracula, only steeling another glance, this one at the mirror itself. Was Dracula's apparent invisibility a trick? And for what purpose? He added, "Ma'm, head for the door and go down to the parlor. There are still motel patrons about and you'll be safe with them. I'll deal with our mysterious count, here"
Dracula tilted his head foward slightly, like a lion about to attack nearby prey. He was getting angry and the cowboy in the mask could see it. He gestured, allowing his well tailored cape to cascade around his shoulders, thus making him appear darkly aparitional. Only the upper portion of his clean white dress shirt and white tie, along with his bowed head held the impression of humanity. The masked man's eyes revealed the startlement he felt at the bat-like appearence of Count Dracula. The ranger willed himself to glare triumphantly back at the dark figure as Sarah made for the door to the hallway.
"No, my dear-rr," countered Vlad dracula, his demeanor that of one who KNEW he was in control. He finally turned from the ranger to gaze at the back of Sarah's head. "You cannot leave. Stay with me. You know You must..." As he spoke, she paused with her long slender fingers wrapped around the door-knob. The School-marm, who hoped to take up work teaching in the new town of Hill Vally, couldn't force the knob to turn for some reason. She stared down at it, the blank expression...the blank FEELING returning to overtake her.
The ranger had a feeling there was more to this bizarre count than meets the eye. He held some sway over Miss Clayton. As if she were in a trance. He had read of such things in medical books and the rare psychology book(though that was a relatively 'young' field). While in his teens, he once witnessed a trance at a circus, though he suspected with time that he and the rest of the audience were being tricked. Then there was toomy's stange, dulled reaction to questions, along with his fierce, yet seemingly forced loyalty.
And this was no trick. Calmly, and with firm power the Ranger repeated himself. "Head down to the parlor, Miss Clayton." He added, "You'll be safer there"
With that, Sarah actaully began to turn the knob. Niether man saw her manage a relieved smile as she did so, but Dracula had other plans.
"You WILL obey only ME, MY Dear Sarah..." Dracula also spoke firmly. There was a hint of danger in his voice. The ranger continued to glare at this fiendish, so called gentleman while deviding his consentration between he and Miss Clayton. Sarah, her self, managed to make the door knob click but was otherwise held fast by Dracula's distant grip. The Ranger took that moment to reveal his trump card.
"NOW, Tonto"
The ranger was gladdened to see his good and loyal friend shove the door in at the same time that he called out. He spared a sideways glance as the Patowatomi tribesman urgently reached in around the door, grabbed the startled woman and promtly yanked her out of the room. The goulish Dracula roared in anger, making for the door. At that moment, as he passed directly between the ranger and the mirror, the masked man ordered the charging count to stay where he was. Dracula looked longingly at the door, now slammed shut. He could hear two pairs of footsteps shuffeling quickly away from the door.
At the top of the Seaside Motel's stairs, Sarah shook herself back to full alertness and craned her head back toward her room, while asking Tonto weakly, "Sir...Who was that masked man"
"MMMmm," He considered fondly, "the man facing off against the ultimate pale-face is my close friend and partner. To keep his identity a secret, he goes by the name...The Lone Ranger." And with that positive, yet flippant remark, Tonto took her to safty.
Back in Sarah's room, a fantastic clash was about to take place. Count Dracula, Dark Lord of the Un-dead whirled defiently on who he would have be his newest victim. His eyes seemed like black fire as he snarled, "You foolish, pathetic daylighter! Who do you think you arrre?!" "Just a man on the side of Right. But You, sir, are a monster." Dracula sneered at the remark as his opponant continued. "I don't know what kind. But a monster, none the less. And a Godless one from what I've seen in this town over the past three days"
At this point, the European nobelman brought his right hand out from under his black cloak and slowly extended it out in front of him, gesturing menacingly at the caucious ranger. As the side of his mouth twitched upward in a grusome smerk, his hand took on a claw like shape. There was something odd about it that the ranger couldn't place, something...some...thing.
"Come...Here." the count ordered, quietly, but firmly.
The ranger blinked, unsure thoughts crossing his mind. His face slowly faded from an alert expession to that of a blank stare. He blinked several times, trying to wake up from this fatigue that was over taking him, this feeling, this desire to do what others wished of him. NO...! I'm in control, I am in.
With a more demanding tone, Dracula ordered, "Come...HERE"
The man in the mask stepped foward once. Then he took another step, compelled to obey. A moment passed as the ranger warred with himself. Soon, his face regestered a defient expression as he blinked again. Reaching up with his free left hand, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He could sware he had seen the count's eyes glowing. No. Not glowing...HIGH-LIGHTED!
Dracula knew then that he had seriously under-estimated the will power of this man of the American West. This was confirmed when this lone ranger said with re-newed confidence in his voice, "No, Count Dracula...I will not be compelled by the likes of you. I don't claim to understand your power. But I refuse to be swayed by your ilk." Clearly angered by the insult, Dracula let go of all pretence. He took a step toward this insufferable cowpoke in a mask, reaching out his hands from underneath his cloke, causing the fine material to flowingly drape about his upper arms as he did so. He opened his mouth and bared sharp, deadly fangs, determined to rip into the ranger's neck with all his un-holy power.
The masked man stepped back only once. "Stay back, Count Dracula!" he ordered. "Stay back or I'll be forced to blow you back to what ever hell you were spawned from." The ranger's outburst openly displayed his own anger. This foul thing of the night, this universal monster... shouldn't even be allowed to exist. But the ranger hoped to capture him and treat him as fairly as any man. If 'man' was the right term in this case.
"Mere bullets cannot not harm one such as I!" growled the count as he paused at his foe's threat."I am Vlad Dracula. The lord of the UN-dead! Master of all Vampires! I cannot be killed by simpleton's like you. I find You to be cunning and relentless, but by no means are You superior to ME. When I am through draining you of your blooohhhd, I'll rend your 'INJUN' friend to pieces for the sheer pleasure of it. Then this entire town will die at my hands, save for the devine Miss Sarah Clayton." He nodded, self assured of himself. "She will return with me to my ancestral home and be my bride of the night for all Eternity!" He laughed grandly...,mirthlessly.
The ranger had never heard anyone rave like this mad thing. He was so incenced by it all that he could barly contain himself. Normally he was the quintesence of calm. But Dracula somehow brought out the masked man's worst side. He glared back at Dracula, deliberately forcing himself to calm down. Finally, in his normaly sub-dued, confident tone, he answered,"NOT while I still stand. Not while I still live." He had never heard the term Vampire before. He hoped after this was over that he would never hear it again.
Dracula's voice dropped a measure of calmness as well as he countered, "Then you will die...here...NOW"
With that resilute statement, the Vampire LUNGED at the Lone Ranger for the kill.
The man in the masked opened fire and blasted a hole streight through Dracula's heart. The bullet passed right through, grazing his nearly indestructible spine and exited out the back. The bullet then shattered the mirror behind him. The Mad-thing stumbled backwards in suprise, clutching his chest. He was obviously in pain. At first he seemed confused by the sensations he felt, having never been hurt by such a measely thing as a bullet, before. Wolve's bane, garlic and other sundry things had either warned him off or outright wounded him in the past. But Bullets? Dracula finally looked up from clutching his wound. Confussion turn rapidly back to anger as he lunged yet again for the steadfast ranger, snarling animalisticly. The law man fired again. Dracula halted in his tracks. "This pain cannot be real...I WILL kill You, Masked Man!" Then he took another step foward and again took another bullet. They both passed through as well and entered the wall as they passed the destroyed mirror's frame.
"I...cannot stand this torment. HOW?! How are you causing me such pain with such a weak instrement as a gun." The Ranger simply stared back, unable to answer with out more information. He kept his weapon trained on Dracula as he warily watched the wounded 'man' stumble toward the terrace, still clutching his leaking chest. He looked down at the fresh blood stains on the floor and cringed at the odd shade of dark greyish red. This creature was truly something beyond human. The usually cool and collected ranger knew for sure now that the count from Transillvania had at some point in his God-forsaken life given himself over completely to Evil.
"There's no where to go, Dracula. Give it up here and now. I'll see to it that You get a fair trial for the death of Barnard Toomy and the others in town"
The lurching count stopped at the terrace entrance and slowly, laborously streightened to his full hight. He turned around to face the Lone Ranger, his pain-filled, round European features giving away to supreme confidence.
At that moment, Tonto re-entered the room. The ranger and the count eyed each other as the native American came to stand near his friend. Wisely, the Ranger held his consentration on his foe. After taking a deep breath(more out of habit than need...), Dracula finally responded to the masked man's promise in a calm voice. "Even though you have somehow caused me deep pain, I shall escape from herrre. I shall escape and rest. And if furtune is on my side, I will return and I will avenge this attack on my noble personage." He then looked pointedly at the resorceful Ranger. "And I promise You both..., You will die at my hands." He ignored the defience and determination in their eyes. "And as for Sarah Clayton. She is of no matter. There will other's"
He suddenly flung his arms outward grandly, causing his cape to spread like a pair of wings. Both the Ranger and his faithful campanion jumped back, startled...not so much from fear, but from wisdom and reflexive action, just as they would dodge a punch or a thrown object. But the next thing that happened truly scared the two otherwise brave men.
Suit and all, Dracula began to loose shape and size. Incredibly, he become darker as did the paleness of his skin and the whiteness of his blood-stained but other-wise immaculate dress-shirt and tie. Before thier startled eyes, Dracula reformed into a huge bat, larger than some eagles Tonto had seen!
"Kimosabe!" Tonto yelled, openly affraid. The Ranger needed no prompting. He fired his last three bullets into the hovering creature as it flapped it's massive scalloped wings. It skreiked horribly in pain and then swooped at the duo, before arcing about and heading for the terrace. Screeching vengefully, the monster swooped out to sea leaving the Lone Ranger and his faithful partner in stunned silence.
Tonto stared out to sea, into the darkness, searching for the words. He hesitated to follow his friend to the terrace thresh-hold. He finally forced himself to step out onto the terrace as the ranger looked all around, making sure the creature that was Dracula was gone.
Looking into his friends eyes, the Patowatomi-brave finally spoke "Kimosabe...He escaped. After I saw You shoot him several times over, he shook it off and escaped"
The ranger was speculative in responce as he looked out over the Pacific. "Escaped? Maybe, old friend. But I doubt he'll be back. I doubt he'll be able to recover from tonightes events." He paused, turning away from the termoil of the sea, which seemed to reflect the mood of this strange evening. He flipped open the cartridge of his gun. "At least not for a long time. We hurt him...Badly"
Unbeknownst to the adventurous pair, Dracula had planned ahead for the likelyhood of loosing one of his coffins. The other he had brought with him had been simply stored in one of the whare-houses on the docks of Cayucos City. It had been scheduled for loading on the next available ship heading for Europe the moment Dracula had desided to end his stay here in Cayucos. This last item of information about the count was no secret: the count had openly mentioned onboard the stage-coach that his trip East was simply for the possibilty of purchasing land in the burgening country of America. The ranger furvently hoped this would never come to pass.
"But how could someone...someTHING like him exist, Kimosabe?" "Perhaps we'll never know of his origin's Tonto. But if you'll remember what Toomy said about the casket, Dracula paid him lots of money to keep it safe. And Toomy was obviously under the count's 'spell', for lack of a better word. He seemed obsessed with holding it's location a secret, until we tricked him into spilling the beans. I suspect this creature from Transillvania may need the casket to survive. Perhaps it contains a meens of restpite for him"
"So thats why you had me search the town for the box that I told You was being pulled far behind and out of sight of Miss Clayton's stage-coach. Thats why You had me hire some men to move it out of town. Because you suspected that the Count was some sort of"
"It was only a hunch, my friend. I had no idea of the evil-incarnate that was Dracula." The masked man began reloading his gun, with efficient care and practise.
"MMmmm," Tonto agreed, nodding reflectively. At this point, the man in the mask recited the bizaree events that took place after the 'indian' had helped Sarah Clayton down-stares. It was fantastic, but Tonto knew he could trust his friend to tell onlt the truth...no matter how far-fetched.
"But Kimosabe, if what this...creature claims is true, then how could your bullets hurt him"
"Tonto, there is a beliefe among white-men. I'm sure the elders of your tribe must know this concept to be strong and true; There comes a time in even the most wisest man's life when he must utter the words 'I don't know...' ". And as Tonto nodded comprehendingly at his friend's answer, the Lone Ranger finished reloading his gun with his weapon of choice, silver bullets.
The End
Hi! Velocity9, here. Jus wanted clarify some things:
1)I have no idea what a tuxedo looked like in the 1880s, nor do I know if it was even called a tuxedo back then. I also don't know if thats what one wore to formal functions or on long trips by stage-coach. 2)None of this is in order... The Sea-Side Motel is real and it still exist to this day in Cayucos, California. I have no idea if it has terraces.
3)Tonto, according to various scources, IS actually of the Potawotami Tribe. Before I read about this, I never heard of 'em. I sincerly hope they're doing well considering the U.S. government's past with native Americans. To this tribe I tip my hat by making sure Tonto was at least reasonably represented.
4)I wanted to use the best known versions of The Lone Ranger and Dracula. I hope the Count sounded JUST like the late, great Mr.Legosi(tho' I tried to sneak in some of Criss Lee's & Frank Lengela's fine animalistic performances as Dracula as well. They was good, too!). The same goes for Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheals(I believe I have the right actor's name. Sorry if I goofed. I researched carefully as possible.). I tried not to OVER-do the cliche-esque, but classic, "MMM(!)mm, Kimosabe!". Tonto was never ment to be a grunt.
5)For those who didn't immediately catch on, Sarah Clayton is the lovely actress from 'Back to the Future-3', Mary(I love the way she talks!)Steenburgen. I enjoy meetings by famous characters and try to be as clever in usage as possible. Didn't you just love LXG, comic OR movie? The movie didn't live up to the comic, but it was still fun! And personally, I LIKED the idea of Tom Sawyer, government agent. It just so happens that in one of the last Twain/Clemens classics, Tom Sawyer became a policeman. And it also is very true that many policemen deside to try thier heroic hands at government work. So whos to say that Sawyer couldn't have ended up in the League thru' events in 'The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen(Which I'm doing my own fan-fic some time in the future. Then again, who hasn't...? Check the rest of this site out?
6)As I did with My first 2 entries of 'Godzilla vs Predators: Alien Damnation!' and various other's, I will supply names for other fan-fics I'm presently working on(also in no order): a)'John Wayne VS Predator'(a character of the Duke's, circa the 1800s)
b)'Predator vs The Creature from the Black Lagoon'(c-1930s)
c)'Godzilla vs The Incredible Hulk'(as in DAViD Banner...NOT from the comic or the movie! It takes place between 'GvsSpace-Godzilla' & 'GvsDestroyer'
d)'Godzilla vs The Herculiods!'(Using a weapon from another continuity, I have Godzilla zapped to the planet of the Herculiods. How will he get back home)
e)Top secret Godzilla story(title could spoil the fun!) featuring the Godzilla's mate(Hesie Era. No, I don't believe that bunk about there being 2 'G's. This is about his mate, whom we've NEVER seen depicted in the HesieOR ANY OTHEREra. What ever happed to her!?) I hope You look for them here!