CHAPTER 10

As Dracula had promised, Malus had more than a handful of unpleasant dreams. Most of them featured his loved ones being tortured and killed by demons. Some were so horrid that he would never forget them no matter how hard he tried. Though Malus had one wonderful dream. For the first time in his three days of unconsciousness and tortured sleep, he dreamed a happy dream of his family. He was at home with his mother, father, and uncle. They were all alive, and he was free from possession. It was as though the whole ordeal had never happened. He embraced them all, telling how much he had missed them. He was the happiest boy on Earth! Nothing could take away that joy...except for the cold hearted laughter ringing in his head, of course.

Ah, how touching... Dracula mocked.

Alas, his dream was vain. Now he felt more alone and humiliated than ever.

Dracula laughed again.

Yeah? Well, at least I have a family to love! Malus said fiercely.

Do you...? He questioned. Not that I see...

They may not have a physical form anymore, but they are always with me in spirit! Malus said sincerely. In my heart!

His heart felt lighter. He was surprised that he had mustered up such courage. To Malus' surprise, Dracula laughed again.

'Heart'? Don't fool yourself, boy. You don't have a heart.

Dracula's bitter words, stung the young boy. Who was he to say that he had no heart? Malus knew it would be best not to comment. He was sure Dracula had plenty more put-downs and cruel remarks for any and everything he could say. Noticing that Malus had given in, Dracula scoffed.

"You weakling, can you do no better?"

Malus didn't answer. His attention was now focused on the wineglass filled with a red substance, that he was holding...

What's that...? He asked suspiciously.

Dracula smirked. He twirled the crystal lightly, making the red liquid circle. "What do you think it is?" He asked coolly.

Malus hesitated. I don't want to drink blood!

"Ah, so you are intelligent. But I did not give you an option." He raised the glass to his lips.

No! Malus flung the glass towards the wall, where it shattered at impact. Blood splashed and dripped down the stone castle wall.

"Oh no..." Malus whispered. He sat on the floor, hugging his knees and trembling. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."

He could sense Dracula's anger. He had only but tasted the wrath of the dark lord before. After regaining control over Malus, Dracula got up and dusted himself, paying Malus no attention. There, on the table next to him was the wineglass, unshattered and unspoiled, with its contents still inside; The same as it was before Malus had thrown it.

He took the glass and drank from it. Malus' stomach churned. He felt like retching, as the warm liquid slid down the inside of his throat. The substance had a strange metallic, bitter, and salty taste; definitely not the best substitute for water or wine.

You will adjust... Dracula said carelessly. Do you know whose blood that is?

I don't want to know... Malus murmured.

Dracula smirked his usual wicked smile. "I did not ask you that. Answer the question, boy."

Malus sighed. I don't know...

It was that man-wolf uncle of yours' blood. An interesting fact to know.

"You..." He said quietly, voice shaking in anger. He lunged toward Dracula. "Leave my uncle alone!"

Smack!

Before Malus could land a hit, Dracula took one hand and struck him, knocking Malus to the ground a few feet away. Malus laid there losing what was left of his consciousness. His head was throbbing from the blow. He heard footsteps walking towards him, and then the voice of their owner:

"You have a weak spot for your uncle. But that will not save you here."

Carrie and Reinhardt came to a garden, filled with the aroma of fresh roses. As promised, brilliant, ruby-colored roses occupied the entire room. Sunlight beamed through the decorative windows of the villa, making the possessed house seem quite pleasant.

"What a lovely rose garden..." Reinhardt said, stopping to take a look around. "Wouldn't you say, Carrie?"

"Yes..." She said joining him. Then she added bluntly, "It's the only thing that's not dead around here..."

Reinhardt blinked. He looked over to his companion.

"Well, it's the truth..." She mumbled, looking out the window slightly embarrassed.

He shook his head, giving up. "You are a strange one, Carrie..." He opened the door ahead and continued to the next room.

"No, I do believe you're the strange one, Mister Schneider!" Carrie called after him and followed. They climbed a staircase, and onto the carpeted villa hallway, they went into the first door. Inside was a guest room, filled with cushioned chairs and a sofa in one corner, and a second door on the other side. There was also a table, dresser, and bed too. On the wall hung pictures of different people and the villa itself.

"Now remember, we're looking for a key to--"

Reinhardt stopped. The doorknob he had reached for turned itself. Carrie and Reinhardt prepared themselves as the door opened. A stout man by the named of Charlie Vincent, walked out. He had white hair, and wore a red overcoat and boots. He also wore a large cross on his back, and now brandished one in front of Reinhardt and Carrie. They both stepped back in confusion.

"Don't move!" Vincent warned, holding the cross inches in front of their faces. "Not even a muscle!"

After a moment or so, he lowered his cross. "Ah...you're both human. You look like villagers. Did you get lost in the forest...?"

Carrie and Reinhardt exchanged glances.

"We are here to destroy Count Dracula." Carrie said finally.

Vincent looked at them for a moment also, as though waiting for them to add something else, or admit to some joke. Eventually he gave a hearty laugh. "Nonsense! Such things shouldn't concern youths such as yourselves. Leave that to an experienced vampire hunter, such as myself."

Carrie crossed her arms. "You presume too much!" She walked past him and opened the door he just left. "Come on, Mister Schneider. Let's find that key."