Chapter 3: Proof and Justice
Transylvania, 1902
Several years later, after the dreadful incident with Harker and that Helsing person was over and Dracula was still regaining his strength, one of D's regular visits to Tasia and Mrs. Belus went horribly wrong. D had finally hit a bit of a growth spurt, so he was just as tall as Tasia even though his face looked much younger. Anyone who saw him would have placed his age at 12, while Tasia was a beautiful 16 years old and looked quite mature for her age. She had never asked D for another kiss, and the two had become even closer friends. D visited her once every two or three months, bringing books for them to read together and usually a small treasure for her mother. But one day things were not the same. The old dog had died long ago, and the new dog was nowhere to be seen as D approached the friendly little cottage. He liked to imagine that the cottage was his real home. The thought always made him smile. That day, however, D frowned. Something was wrong. Cautiously he knocked on the door, but there was no answer. D waited a moment, listening, but there was no sound.
Inside, where D couldn't see her, Tasia struggled to free her mouth from the strong hand clamped over it. She had seen D approaching the cottage, but before she could get to a window to signal him, the man had grabbed her. She heard the doorknob turn under D's hand, and finally managed to catch the skin of her captor's palm between her teeth. She bit down hard. The door creaked as it opened. The man released Tasia's mouth with a curse, and she screamed. "Run, D!"
It was too late. Three men tackled the boy as he stepped into the house, bringing him to the floor. He fought, and tossed them aside, but another man threw a chain around D's neck, and tightened the loop. D could tell immediately that the chain was forged of silver. He was yanked backwards into the room, landing flat on his back. D gasped, trying to get air back into his lungs. He brought a hand up to pull at the chain, but one of the men planted a boot on his chest, and rested the tip of a very sharp stake above D's heart. D froze, and then slowly lowered his hands until they rested at his sides. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. There were five armed men in the cottage; D was completely surrounded. He could hear Mrs. Belus sobbing nearby.
"Don't hurt him, please, he's just a boy," she pleaded, her sobs muffled by her hands.
"This aint no boy, mum," one of the men said gruffly. "It's that damned vampire."
"He isn't!" Tasia exclaimed fiercely. "He's my best friend! I've known him my entire life! You're wrong!"
"He is out in the sunlight," one man muttered doubtfully.
"But see how pale he is! Vampires is always pale like that."
"He was a sickly child, the doctor kept him in!" Mrs. Belus wailed. "He's always had an unnatural color, but that's no ground to call him such a thing!"
"Look!" one man shouted, pointing to D's ear with his long knife. "He's got them demon ears, he must be it!" the other men muttered to themselves in consensus.
"He's had them since he were a baby," Mrs. Belus said quickly. "Ever since he first showed up on my doorstep, the poor dear! It's no fault of his that he were born with ears like that- what a silly thing to fuss over, when the Lord knows some people get born without arms or legs, or limbs all twisted and useless, which they must suffer with for the rest of their lives! Shame on you all!"
"You say he showed up at your doorstep, but where'd he come from?" a man asked.
"From that old castle, where he lives," Tasia supplied.
"That's the proof! He's the vampire, the very thing what's been hunting our children and women in the village!"
"No! He isn't! He reads to us, from the Holy Bible! No evil creature would do that!" D opened his eyes and looked up at Tasia, grateful that she was defending him. Her pretty face was red with crying, and down her cheeks were wet, shining stripes. Although her lip trembled, her eyes were strong and resolute. She looked down and met D's gaze. "don't you worry," she said to him. "This is some kind of horrible mistake!"
"Hey, his eyes aint red," spoke up the doubtful man from before.
"Red eyes in vampires is just a rumor, a story that might not be true," said the burly man who still had his boot firmly placed on D's chest. "Let's look at what we know for sure. The monster lives in the castle, we know that." The other men nodded. "We know he's got dark hair and pale skin and pointy ears, from the woman who saw him from the side that night when he stole her baby right from its cradle. So far this fellow here matches the description. We've heard a rumor that he can't abide sunlight or silver, which don't seem to hold true in this case. But there's one thing that'll make it all sure, one way or the other."
"Seeing if he eats food like a human?" one man suggested.
"He does! He eats very well, like a growing boy!" Mrs. Belus cried. "He eats bread and meat and vegetables!"
"Quiet," the burly man commanded. "That's not what I was thinking of. One thing I know about vampires, all vampires everywhere, is that they all got fangs, real sharp teeth, which they use to bite their prey in the throat. If this fellow aint got fangs, he aint a vampire. But if he do, I think it's obvious to us all what we must do."
At this the men nodded, and tightened their grip on their weapons. They all looked down at D. "Well, come on," the burly man said, looking D square in the eye. "Let's see yer teeth."
D felt like he wanted to cry. He was a young man now, not a child, so he was too old for tears, but the feeling was there in his throat anyway, and it burned at his eyes. He kept his mouth shut in a thin, expressionless line. The man holding the chain around his neck gave it a little jerk.
"Come on, let's see," the man said roughly.
Tasia smiled despite the tears still falling from her eyes. "Well! That will be the end of this foolishness!" she said confidently. "D doesn't have any nasty fangs. Show them, D, just let them see so they'll leave you alone!" D closed his eyes. He couldn't believe this was happening, not here, not in front of Tasia and Mrs. Belus.
Suddenly one of the men lost his patience, and stuck the end of his spear at the side of D's mouth, prying open his lips. Even this wasn't enough to reveal D's teeth to the satisfaction of the hunters, so the man holding the chain began to pull, and the burly man began to press down on D's chest with his boot. D closed his eyes, fighting, willing himself to hold his breath, but at last the chain was too tight, and the pressure on his chest too great. D's hands clutched at the chain, and his mouth opened wide like an animal's, gasping for air. "He's our vampire, all right!" the men shouted. D began to struggle violently, and the two women screamed.
"Drag him outside!" one man hollered, and D found himself being pulled down the front steps into the yard. Someone kicked him in the ribs on his way down, and he curled up in pain. The burly man wielding the stake came, towering over D. Now he held a large mallet in his other hand. D held up a hand as if to shield himself.
"No," he rasped. "please!"
"Silence, monster!" the man roared, his face livid. "You vile creature of darkness- you murderer of innocents! Today I will end your unholy existence, and send you back to the sewers of hell!" He placed the tip of the stake above D's heart, and D wrapped a hand around it, as if to lift it away.
"No, wait," he said feebly, the chain still tugging at his neck.
"How dare you beg for mercy?" the man asked, spitting on his victim. "Did my wife beg for mercy too, and for mercy on our child?" the man's hand was shaking as he raised the mallet to nail D to the earth.
At that moment, one of the hunters gave a cry of warning, and with a ferocious growl a giant wolf leapt into view, tackling the man with the mallet. Snarling, the wolf crushed the man's throat in its jaws, and sprung towards the next man, who happened to be the one holding the chain. The chain jerked a final time as the beast attacked the man, and hot blood began to pool on the ground. D struggled up, pulling the chain off over his head. Tasia was watching fearfully from the window of the little cottage, and as D stood up, their eyes met. Tasia stared at him briefly with overwhelming pity and terror, but then she shuddered, sobbing, and hid her face in her hands. D turned and fled. Behind him he heard the death cries of the wolf, and then the sounds of pursuit. Had the wolf killed two, or three of the men? How many were left? D didn't want to look back. Suddenly he remembered what he had done the last time he was being chased through those woods. That dark, overwhelming power- he didn't want it to come back.
D made up his mind to give up. He stopped running and turned to face the men, only to have an arrow embed itself in his stomach. A second arrow quickly followed, missing his heart by an inch or two. D collapsed in pain, and within seconds, two of the men caught up with him. One of them was the man with the long knife. "Good shooting," he complimented the other man, who had another arrow fitted to his bow.
"Shall I pin him down for you?" the hunter asked, his voice and expression icy.
"Yeah," the man with the knife replied. D was lying on his side in the dirt with his right hand stretched out, clutching at the earth. The archer let his arrow fly, and it drove itself through D's hand, pinning it to the ground. D saw it, but he didn't feel it. His vision was growing hazy, and everything seemed far away. One thought consumed his mind… he couldn't hurt these people, he mustn't hurt them. Almost blind, he twisted his body into a position to crawl away, but the arrow through his hand held him in place. As soon as his other hand touched the ground, it too was pinned in place by an arrow. Only that time, D felt a pain keener and sharper than he could have ever imagined. A million deaths could not be as severe as the pain that shot through his hand at that instant, paralyzing him.
The archer smiled grimly. "My special arrow," he said proudly.
"What's special about it?" the man with the knife asked.
"Oh, I dunno… rumor is, it's possessed. No matter where you aim it, it strikes its target true, as if it knows where it's going."
"That's rubbish," the first man scoffed, flipping his knife in the air and catching it easily. Both men looked expectantly at D, who was perfectly still.
"Is he dead?" the archer asked.
"Don't know. Would be a blessing if he were. Best to make sure, just in case."
The man with the long knife stepped over to D, lifted his head by the hair, and quickly drew his knife across the pale throat. He sliced D's neck three-fourths of the way through, and blood gushed out and began to spread. The man dropped D's head in disgust. "Ugh," he said, wiping his knife on the ground. "Vampire blood. I hope some foul beast comes along and laps it up, just for the sake of justice."
"Justice been done now," the archer said softly. "Our children can sleep safely at last." He walked over and wrapped his hand around the arrow in D's left hand. He gave it a tug, but it was stuck fast. He tugged at it again, with no result. The man frowned.
"What are you doing?" his companion asked.
"My special arrow," the archer said. "It won't come out."
"So leave it there. Come on, our work is done."
"No, this is my special arrow, don't you understand? It's worth a fortune, I can't just leave it here to rot with this the body of this foul monster!" he pulled on the arrow with all his might, but to no avail. The man with the knife rolled his eyes.
"Here, let me try." He came over and pulled on the arrow, but it didn't budge. The man frowned and pulled out his knife. Then he attempted to dig the arrow out of D's hand. After a few minutes, there was a large bloody hole in the hand, and in the ground beneath it, but the arrow was still firmly in place.
"I can't leave my special arrow," the archer babbled. "It's possessed or haunted or something, it's got magical powers!"
"Well then, maybe whatever's possessing it has made up its mind to stay where it is. Most likely you just shot it real good into a tree root or something. But it's not worth it to waste all this time. We ought to head back to the cottage. No telling when more wolves might show up." He tucked his knife into his belt and began to walk off. The archer gave the arrow one last desperate tug, and then followed his friend.
A/N: if anyone's reading this (which I doubt), hang in there for at least one more chapter! Thanks!