Charlotte the Harlot, show me your leg.
Charlotte the Harlot, take me to bed.
Charlotte the Harlot, let me see blood.
Charlotte the Harlot, let me see love—

"Charlotte the Harlot"—Iron Maiden

Seuche in Deutschland

Chapter VIII

Unlike his younger brother, Lysander enjoyed the well-lighted portion of Berlin. Taverns were filled with patrons, and people drank in the streets.

"This is incredible! The entire city must be out here tonight! I guess that regardless of whatever fears people had over the epidemic it didn't matter. When you want to party, you're going to party. The only problem's that with all these people it'll be very difficult to locate a vampire."

"Excuse me, sir?" a voice said.

Lysander turned. Beside him was a woman in her early twenties, with green eyes and blonde hair. She was dressed in a manner meant to entice men, and in her hand she held a beer.

"She almost looks like a daughter Cander might have one day…But it's obvious she's a prostitute. I know Uncle Richter considers their lifestyle contrary to Christian teachings…but we all've to make a living one way I suppose."

"Sir?" she asked again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes?"

"You looked as though you could use one of these, since you're standing on the streets of Berlin with nothing to drink."

"Oh, well…thank you."

Lysander took the beer from her and took a drink, while the girl smiled. "I must confess that I've never had a prostitute come after me before. It might be fun to play along…But I don't think Dana'd see my humor in that. So I'd better do something to send her away."

And with each gulp Lysander flashed his ring.

"What's that?"

"My wedding ring."

"…Oh…Is your wife nearby?"

"She'll be here in a few minutes."

"Oh…I see…"

The woman left him, but from a distance Lysander could hear her say words to the effect, "That's a shame, Lysander, because I could've nurtured your Romanian skin better than she could."

Lysander gasped, and turned. "Hey, wait a minute!"

But the girl became lost in the crowd.

"This is weird! I've never seen that woman before, and yet she knew my first name and my nationality! I know that most people can guess that I'm not German, due to my accent, but I don't think they can guess I'm Romanian. This is queer! I've got to find that girl and ask her how she knew my name and my country."

Lysander followed where he saw the girl leave, but he often had to work his way through a group of five or six people.

"Damn it! It'll be impossible for me to find her through this crowd…Wait!"

Lysander noticed the woman with a man about his age. The woman directed the man to an alley.

"Looks like they're about to've sex. And he'll pay her handsomely, I'm sure. I wonder…should I confront her now…or wait until she's finished? Since she's taking him to the alley, he'll probably only receive oral sex. I know that if I was about to receive oral sex, I wouldn't want anybody interfering with me…Plus, it'll only be about ten minutes, so I can wait."

While the man around his age received oral sex, Lysander drank another beer—St. Pauli Girl. And after that beer, Lysander decided to drink an Oktoberfest.

"Damn! It's been at least fifteen minutes, and neither of them've come out! Either she's really good, or he hasn't ejaculated yet…I'm tired of waiting; I'm going to stand near the entrance."

Lysander moved next to the alley wall, but all was still in the alley.

"That's odd. If they were done I'm sure I would've seen both of them leave…That's it! I'm entering!"

Lysander placed a hand on the butt of his revolver, and quietly entered the alley. With the exception of the moon, the alley was absolutely dark; but Lysander did his best not to step on any bottle or crumpled newspaper.

Eventually Lysander was able to see the man who entered the alley with the woman. The man sat upright against a wall. The man's pants did not appear to be unbuttoned, but the prostitute he was with was nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me, sir?" Lysander said when he was close enough to the man.

But the man did not respond.

"Sir?"

The man finally let out a groan.

"Are you all right?" Lysander replied, while he knelt down beside him.

The man continued to groan, and placed his hand to his throat.

"Sir, are you all right?"

"Uh…I don't know…Who're you?"

"Lysander Tepes. I'm an ambassador from Romania."

"An ambassador from Romania? …Shit, not exactly the place I'd expect to meet someone of royalty."

Lysander chuckled. "Well, I'm not exactly part of the royal family…Although, I guess historically I'm part of a royal family, since my grandfather was the Prince of Wallachia."

"…Damn," the man said, as he staggered to his feet with his hand still against his throat.

"Is there something wrong with your throat?"

"Yeah…I think this little bitch bit me."

Lysander chuckled. "Bit you?"

"Yes."

"May I see?"

"Huh?"

Lysander laughed. "Don't worry; I'm not that kind of person. But I've some skills as a doctor, and a bite can lead to infection."

"Oh…all right."

Lysander looked at the man's wounds under the light. They were small and white with a red center.

"The vampire's kiss! …Here!"

Lysander reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of holy water.

"What's that?"

"A sterilizer—I need to apply it to your wound."

The man allowed Lysander to do as he requested, and the wound began to heal.

"That feels a little better. What exactly did you use?"

"Some liquor mixed with some water. Here, I'll give you this bottle to apply to your wound, though I must apologize that it's in a holy water bottle."

"You Catholic?"

"No, Orthodox."

"Oh…well, I'm Lutheran, but right now I'll take a blessing from the pope if it'll remove this wound."

Lysander smiled. "Let me ask you one more question before I leave."

"All right?"

"This woman, this 'bitch' you were with…did you at any moment—even if it was for a second—taste her blood on your lips?"

"Her blood?"

"Yes, you know; the substance that pours life through our veins."

"…No."

Lysander breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."