Ragweed: Yeah, time for another chapter! I'm so happy!
Carl: Not you, I thought we'd gotten rid of you.
Ragweed: No, I will haunt you to the day I die. Well, on a random note, I've been trying to think what I'll be for Halloween this year, either a vampire or a LOTR elf (yes I'm 15 and I still go, I mean, dude, its free candy! I'll do it 'till I'm 20!) And I know Halloween's like, three months away but, this is how exciting my life is…I have nothing better to think of!
(lull) Anyway, reviews! Verona, Holy shit! it is you! Yes I did quote you in my bio! I can't believe you actually read it! But it's, like, the perfect phrase that describes me! I hope that's fine. I'm glad you liked the chapter, I didn't think everyone would like it too much because when I wrote it, it just wouldn't come out right for me. Oh well, glad you liked it! Atleng, eek, you mean there's a fire in the sky!? Does it burn out your eyes? Well, glad you got around to reading the chapter. And thanks for the comment. I read Bram Stoker's Dracula and tried to put some of this Dracula's personality into this Dracula. Glad it's working!


Crimson-Stained Shards of Memory

Chapter 7: The Good Feeding the Evil

'Now that I know what I'm without,
You can't just leave me,
Breathe into me and make me real,'-- 'Bring me to Life' Evanescence

.:I:.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Carl tried to hide away the terrible thought that Gabriel might die. When he had found the man, after trailing him up into the Carpathians for a few days, unconscious at the edge of the dell, he never truly thought Gabriel wouldn't awake. Gabriel just seemed too strong and untouchable to be brought down. But as the day rolled on and noon came and left and the stars began to sparkle like diamonds emblazed into the dark shield-shaped sky, the little friar's hopes began to dwindle with the sunlight. It had been hours and Gabriel had not stirred from the deerskin Carl had placed him on in the snow. Sometimes, he would mummer incoherently in his sleep or stir and toss as if struggling with some unseen tormentor but he had never once awoken. Gabriel seemed feverish or ill but Carl could not find any visible wounds or signs of sickness on him, and this made Carl even more concerned. The little friar prayed as the night cast its sleepy shroud over the Carpathians that his friend would be alright. But as the little friar would soon learn, prays are not always answered.

When night settled on the mountaintops, Carl started a small fire by Gabriel and himself. Nearby, two Transylvanian stallions, one Gabriel's and the other Carl's, slept upright on their hooves, their reins tied to a small stake driven into the hard, frozen, ground. Off in the distance, the howling cry of wolves could be heard and once again, Carl prayed silently that the wolves would not be attracted by their scent and come their way. When the fire was blazing bright and red, the little friar took his own deerskin and laid it overtop of Gabriel, who was still sleeping in a seemingly unconsciousness state. Turning back, Carl and sat down close to the fire and pulled his brown friar's robs around himself to try and keep warm, but was overall more concerned for Gabriel; he couldn't tell if his friend was getting any better or any worse. Carl cursed himself silently for not bringing more animal skins or wools.

The little friar fought off sleep for most of the night. He was determined to see Gabriel through the night. But the bone-chilling cold of a sunless environment was started to take its toll on the Carl. Numbness began to take hold of his fingertips, his breath became an icy fog on the air, his body began to shiver uncontrollably with each pacing hour. Struggling to keep the thoughts of the cold out of his mind, the little friar stared up at the sky. A small sliver of a waning crescent moon rose of into the east. In the back of his mind, Carl counted how many more days to a full moon (it had become a habit ever since his journey to Transylvania.)

"Eighteen days," he whispered.

Not that it meant anything. No, it was just the moons revolution. No reason to become paranoid over a full moon. But even as Carl thought it, flashbacks of massive, snarling, rabid werewolves with flashing white teeth in snapping red jaws and frenzied yellow eyes took hold of his mind. The little friar cringed at the image and quickly shook it from his head. As he did, Gabriel suddenly jolted in his sleep. Carl's mind instantly snapped to his friend. Gabriel twisted his shoulders and arched his back as if electrical currents were sweeping through his body. His face was frowned in pain and agony and Gabriel screamed in a high-pitched shriek that seemed almost unworldly. A sound of pain and agonizing evil that would have made werewolves flee with their tails between their legs. And it made sleeping bird burst from their perches in fright.

The little friar jumped to his feet and was instantly kneeling by his friend's side. Groans of pain escaped Gabriel's lips as he twisted in agony. Hands clawed at the air in animal instinct as Gabriel muttered feverishly in...Latin? Even in his shock Carl was taken aback at this. Since when did Gabriel speak Latin? But he didn't speak like anyone who had learned it, the Hunter spoke it so swift and fluently; he spoke as if he had been, born to it…?

Whatever fit had taken hold of Gabriel, by now, had ended and the Hunter fell back onto the ground, panting as if exhausted. Hazel eyes snapped open, unseeing, caught in the torture of dreams, caught in some terrible Darkness. Carl sat frozen in a mix of fear and shock. Everything was happening far too fast for the little friar to grasp at the moment, his mind raced with questions that were answerless. The friar's voice was momentarily lost as he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening. Seconds past, though they seemed like eternity, finally, Carl was able to force out a name.

"Van Helsing?!" Carl took Gabriel's head into his arms as he noticed the man's breathing become slower and become shallower. Not only that, the Hunter was hot to the touch, feverishly hot. The little friar lay his hand of Gabriel's brow, it was not hard to feel the unnatural heat there. Despite that, the Hunter's breath was slipping from his body.

Fewer and fewer were the gasps of air Gabriel forced into his body. The tautness of his muscles became weaker as life seeped out of his body. His eyes shut once more as if his mind, hidden somewhere in the Darkness was excepting what was about to happen. Carl's mind once more was on fire, fearing springing at him like a massive snarling beast waiting to seize him in it's jaws. Words flew from his mouth, begging Gabriel to waken.

"Van Helsing, calm down! Don't worry, I'm here. Oh Van Helsing, please don't die." But even as the little friar stared down at his friend he could feel the Hunter's very life dry up from his body. What ever little life was left in Gabriel was beginning to drip away.

"No, Van Helsing! Please Van Helsing, don't die! Don't die! Please, wake up! Van Helsing!" Carl cried again, his voice hysterical in his own ears. He prayed with all his heart that his friend's body would pull air into his lungs. But it was far too late, Gabriel was long gone, his breathing had stopped, and his body was already getting cold.

.:I:.

The Fires did not come and it surprised him. He was sure the Fires would be there, waiting to greet him with licking heat and pain. They had been there the times before to take him in, so he was rather shocked when they did not appear right away after the Darkness had taken him. There wasn't anything waiting for him, nothing but blackness, cold ever-sprawling blackness. A darkness that seemed to move and swirl with empty winds that stirred in the abyss. But wasn't that just as bad as the Fires?

Dracula struggled to open his eyes. His entire body felt like a sack of wet sand, heavy and lifeless. His writhered around, trying to find his body again, but found he couldn't move. As feeling slowly returned, he could fell something holding him still, nearly squeezing the air from his lungs. Mentally, he did a sweeping check of himself from head to toe: he was being held, suspended in the air by whatever was holding him, whatever had him was not wrapped around his head and he could feel himself pull air into his lungs; his shoulders were crushed together closely, his shoulder-blades nearly touching; his arms crossed across his chest, hugging himself; and the rest of his body was hanging limp in the air. Dracula fought to open his heavy eyes again, but found no strength within himself to do so, but his ever-unbroken spirit would not let himself be beaten so easily. Once more, his forced his body to obey his commands and his leaden eyelids slowly opened.

Blurry and distorted, Dracula's vision was anything but helpful as to figuring out where he was. Everything was dark and grey, completely unrecognizable. Once more the vampire tried to moved against his bonds, but once more found his restraints were too tight, whatever held him held him firmly. Dracula inhaled deeply and the bonds tightened against the swelling of his chest, painfully. Flinching inwardly, the Count squinted and tried to focus his eyes. Slowly, the blurred, dark images began to assemble themselves. The room was impossible to not recognize, it was the Great Hall. Shocked, the vampire tilted his head down. His entire body from the neck down was wrapped in chains, the chains that were attached to the dusty walls of the Great Hall, holding him suspended in the air. Links of metal criss-crossed each other in midair, holding the vampire firmly. So many were the numbers that it was near impossible to follow a chain with ones eyes through the spider-webbing of metal. Animal instinct kicking in a Dracula pulled hard against his restraint, the chains didn't move, didn't even rattle as he fought against them. Soon, Dracula's broken body gave-way to sheer fatigue and exhaustion and he slumped back into the metal, letting it hold high above the scratched stone floor of the Great Hall.

What had happened, why couldn't he remember. Think, what had happened, why was he like this?

Everything hit Dracula so fast, like a choppy, broken sea. Memories flowed through his mind with the intensity and force of a racing river pounding down upon the mountainside. His bleeding arms, pouring with his infected blood, the voice that had invaded his mind. What had happened to him? Had he been brought back? Was he returning to Hell?

Don't be so concerned Vladislaus, you are too valuable to allow be trusted with you own survival. We can't allow you to sub come to your own self-destruction.

Instantly, Dracula's mind became alive, his muscles tightened with adrenalin. His bat-like ears were perked to the slightest noise that echoed throughout the fortress. That was the voice, the same voice. Sly and mocking, ringing in the back of his mind like a demon that refused to leave him alone. Something close to fear crept into Dracula's dead, still, heart as the voice began to speak again.

Did you think that was wise of you Dracula? To bleed yourself like stuck game? You nearly killed yourself, the voice said, calmly.

Perhaps that's what I was trying to do, thought Dracula bitterly, swallowing hard.

Honestly! the voice spoke again, allowing itself the smallest amount of emotion, we cannot have you leaving now, everything is too close to completion.

Dracula cursed himself, he had forgotten the voice new what he was thinking. The vampire squirmed in the metal's cold embrace, trying to keep his wrapped arms from burning in pain. When the voice did not speak again, Dracula said with a weak voice, "Why am I here? Why am I in chains like this?"

The voice's tone became one of disappointment and scolding, We've learned you left the castle last night. Killed a man. We cannot have you discovered Dracula. You have become pathetically weak in your mind since your Awakening. We will not risk you leaving the castle again. Then voice added with a slight amount of annoyance the voice added, Your little stunt with your slashes nearly ruined us. You nearly cost us yourself and Gabriel.

Dracula's neck snapped up and his voice was suddenly filled with a concern that surprised even himself, "What happened to Gabriel?"

The voice seemed equally surprised by amount of passion in the vampire's voice and was silent for a moment before responding, Dracula, do you not remember me telling you and Gabriel are now connected, your subconscious minds are now melded together. You bled yourself to near-death, Gabriel's body and mind had no choice but to follow. You drifted dangerously to death, Gabriel did the same. You two are connected now with your minds, your senses, and your lives. You live, he lives. You die, he dies.

"But I'm not dead…"

No, said the voice simply, but you are immortal. Gabriel, Gabriel is more closely human. He will not recover as quickly as you.

Dracula could not find himself to say anything. He was ashamed that he cared so much if Gabriel died. Why should he care? That damned man who took everything from him, cursed man who did not deserve God's mercy. He wanted Gabriel dead, he wanted to kill him, he wanted to drink his blood from his veins and laugh at his dying body. He wanted it so much. He needed it so much. Despair filled his hollow body and Dracula closed his eyes and dropped his head, letting loose strands of his black hair fall in front of his face. Being dead wasn't supposed to hurt so much, he wasn't supposed to be this weak.

"I need to feed," said Dracula finally, "The Healer in my blood hasn't awoken with me yet, I can't survived much longer with out blood."

If the voice had a face, it would have been smirking ear to ear, We've already seen to that. They are already finding you warm blood as we speak.

Dracula raised his head and frowned, "They?"

As if on cue, the two massive oaken doors at the far end of the hall burst open, releasing thrashing wind and snow into the dormant castle. The room came to life, the large wall tapestries billowed and thrashed as a ice-stabbing wind rushed into the Hall, the massive chandelier rattled and clattered as the cold current of air wound through it. Flurries of snow whirled as the wind shrieked in the black night outside. Appearing from the swirling snow, two massive grey wolves bounded into the Great Hall, their shaggy coats encased with snow, sweat and ice. In the jaws of one huge wolf, a man, obviously dead, was being dragged by the neck across the floor as the wolves ran up to Dracula's body wrapped in chains. As the beasts bounded up, the chains binding the vampire's body began to release and unravel. Like the coils of a snake the links of metal slowly unwrapped themselves from around his body until all the supported the vampire were two chains secured around his wrists, one around his neck, and one around his waist. The two wolves came to the suspended vampire and instantly skidded to a stop just below their master, gazing up at Dracula's chained body.

The wolves were massive, the each at least the size of a newborn foal. Their eyes were both a terrifying electric yellow. The wolf that held the dead man in its jaws had blood smeared across it muzzle and grey shaggy neck. The form of these beasts were that of a demon one would see in a child's nightmares. But despite their size, both of the animals were ridiculously scrawny. Ridged spines raised along their backs in-between two shoulder blades. The bones of their muzzles under the beast's eyes were well-defined under taut-drawn grey fur giving them a sick, malnourished look. Ivory fangs a good two-inches long pierced from the snapped red jaws. Black claws dug into the marble floor in anticipation. The wolf that carried nothing in its jaws snarled at snapped at the ankle of the dead man in its companion's jaws. But before the wolf could get hold of the kill, the other wolf jerked its neck to one side, pulling the dead game out of reach of its partner, and giving a low growling warning. The other wolf growled in response, obviously angry that they could not share their kill yet.

After a moment the links of metal began to lower Dracula to the cracked floor, loosening themselves as they did so. An electric current swept through Dracula's body the instant his feet touched the ground shocking his nerves to life. All strength escaped him and the vampire fell to his knees in front of the wolves as the chains finally slipped loose their grip, shuddering from what appeared to be coldness. One of the wolves, the one without the man in it's jaw approached its fallen master, nudging his shoulder and whining like a child's concerned dog. Dracula smiled quietly as the soft radiance of the wolf's natural body heat warmed his cold flesh. Thirsty for some form of warmth, the vampire wrapped a sore arm around the wolf's shoulders pulling it close to his side. He hadn't realized he was so cold.

The second wolf, fallowed its companion and came up to Dracula. With a swing of its powerful neck, the animal tossed the dead man from it's jaws in front of its master. An ugly slash was gouged into the man's neck and even now, new warm blood was pouring out like a small rivulet. Dracula's eyes blazed and he leaned forward, sinking extended fangs into the cooling flesh of the victim's neck. Crimson blood poured out over his throat in a warm red river. His empty veins screamed for life and his eyes turned a frightening icy blue as he stared out over the man's neck to the two wolves. The two grey beasts licked their muzzles at the sight of newly killed flesh. But they let their master feed.

Drawing deeply, Dracula drank quickly as the blood was cooling rapidly. Warm blood spilled over his teeth in a gushing red torrent, filling him momentarily with a living-warmth until the blood cooled and settled in his dead veins. After he'd drank all he could, Dracula unhooked his fangs, sat up and inhaled sharply. Panting, the vampire slumped down, releasing his tightened muscles and dropped his gaze to his lap, and in doing so, caught a quick glance of his slashed arm. Brushing back black robes, Dracula inspected his wounds. The wounds themselves had scarred over nicely for the most part, leaving slender white lines criss-crossing along his forearm from his wrist up to his elbow. The Healer in his veins must have awoken by now, for after what he had done to his forearms, he was surprised he could still use his them.

Returning his piercing green-eyed gaze to the two wolves sitting in front of him, Dracula noticed them staring longingly at the dead man laid between them licking their muzzles and whining softly. Judging from the storm outside, food must be scares for wolves this time of year. Reaching out with right arm, Dracula grasped the man firmly behind the neck and raised the limp form slightly from the stone floor, presenting it to the wolves. The animals raised their electric-yellow eyes to meet their master's and Dracula nodded in some form of approval. Instantly the animals dove forward on the body, tearing at the flesh for indeed, it had been the first decent meal they had had in many weeks for the Transylvanian winter had been unforgiving.

Dracula smiled softly again. Shifting his legs underneath him, the vampire struggled to stand, but still could not find the strength and collapsed back to his knees. Immediately the gorging wolves reverted back to servant-animal mode, leaving their kill and moving on either side of their master, bracing their bodies against him. Placing a clawed hand on either one of the tall wolf's backs, Dracula pushed himself up again. He could feel the wolves tremble under his weight, but they did not whimper or bark. Once he was upright the wolves stood by his side as if to be sure their master could support himself.

Only then did the voice, who had been silent this whole time, begin to speak again, Their names are Réhabah and Jahul. They are two of the Royal Wolves.

Dracula felt his breath catch in his throat, "They Royal Wolves?!" He said aloud.

The massive wolves seemed to respond and howled loudly, barking and baying in an almost frenzied state.

Yes, replied the voice, its emotionless monotone pitch never wavering, You know the story don't you Dracula? It has been told to the children in Vaseria for nearly five-hundred years.

Dracula nodded, "Yes, it's an old fairytale nothing more," the vampire's voice had regained its aristocratic dignity.

The wolves seemed to understand this as well, and growled.

No, do you remember what the story is?

The vampire frowned, not sure what the voice meant, "It says that the Royal Wolves were a species of wolves that were put on the earth by the Angels to protect the small town of Vaseria, but no ones knows why. Some say it was because Vaseria was built on some holy ground, other had various reasons. It is said that the Wolves were fierce some beast, as big as horses yet they were kind creatures and never attacked those who lived in the town."

Do you know what else?

The vampire felt dread brewing in his stomach, "It is said that these Wolves," he forced out the last words, "are the ancestors of werewolves."

Instantly the two Royal Wolves growled and snarled like rabid dogs, leaping and clawing at the air.

Yes, said the voice, a sort of pleasure detectable under the monotonous flat of its voice. But what you don't see Dracula. The stories are true. You remember everything, yet there is some much you don't know. Everything you think to be true…there is so much you don't yet know. So much we can't tell you yet.

"What do you mean!?" Dracula's head was spinning with so many things he did not understand.

We will tell you in time. For now, you should retreat somewhere deeper within the castle, the sun will rise soon. You must contact Gabriel. He is still captured in the Darkness. You need to help him awaken. You must reach him before he dies.

"Why?!" snapped Dracula, the wolves beside him began to pick at the death corpse again. "I thought you wanted Gabriel dead. That's what's supposed to happen!"

Calm yourself, Vladislaus. Do not let your emotions get the better of you. There is much more going on here then you and Gabriel. He must survive until he reaches Vaseria, then we will start what needs to be done.

"And what will become of me once this great plan is put into use. What will become of me?" countered Vladislaus, confused and angry with the voice.

You, started the voice, you will be released. Released from the curse of walking the night, of feeding on the blood of others. You will be set free Dracula.

Dracula's stomach fluttered at the thought. He couldn't believe what it had just heard. If possible, he could have gone paler with a mix of pure joy and disbelief. It had been over four-hundred years since he'd felt the sun, four-hundred years since he'd felt the softness of the wind. So long it had almost faded from memory.

"…Released?"

The voice seemed to smirk at Dracula's childlike disbelief, Go now Vladislaus. You must reach Gabriel before he is lost. I have ordered Réhabah and Jahul to stay with you for now. Be quick, we cannot loose Gabriel.

Suddenly, something in Dracula sapped all energy from the vampire's body and he collapsed to his knees. Réhabah and Jahul were instantly by their master's sides whining and licking his hands and sides of his face. But Dracula did not try to fight it, he knew what was happening, he was used to it by now. He would find Gabriel and then, revenge would be his at long last.


Ragweed: Okay, so this wasn't the best chapter. Sorry. I know it was short, but that's all there is to this part. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Next chapter will be up soon!