Here comes the new chapter already. I hope you enjoy it.
Queenmedesa: Thank you for your review. I`m glad you liked the chapter. I took the Nobel Prize as an anchor in time, but I agree with you that the costumes in the musical are of a more earlier time - I just explain it with the Transylvanian rural region being a bit backward and the vampires just wearing those clothes of the times they were changed in. Plus, I wouldn't have been able to write the whole train-storyline ;-)
Showdown
With his arm raised high in the air, Professor Abronsius stood before the opened coffin. The silver blade of his knife glistened in the newly installed bulb's light. He maintained this position for several seconds, giving the vampire time to change his mind.
The three other men in the room watched with mixed feelings. Klaus was completely horrified by this scenery. Doctor Keller seemed to be taken in and full of anticipation, while Professor Alibori held his arms crossed, skeptically. A part of him wanted his rival to fail, whereas another wanted his dream to finally come true – being face to face with a real vampire. But would Abronsius act this way if he really had nothing to show?
When no reaction came from the man in the coffin (even if Abronsius thought to have seen his face tighten), the Professor sighed.
"I gave you more than enough time to think this over. You force me to do this," he said silently and waited for another couple of seconds. Then, he stabbed out.
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Led by the mysterious connection between father and son, Herbert, along with Alfred, ran through the lonely buildings of the university. With every new obstacle – be it gates or doors – Alfred believed this to be the end. But Herbert always put him right. Effortlessly, he broke through every barrier with mere brawn.
They didn't have to break the last door, since it was already ajar. When they were only steps away, Alfred could hear the voice of his old mentor: "I gave you more than enough time to think this over. You force me to do this." Alfred was flooded by foreboding. He ran even faster and passed by Herbert, who had led the way up to then.
Alfred tore open the door and saw as if in slow motion how Professor Abronsius was about to stab a knife into his Lord. He felt sanity leave his head and instinct replace it. And instinct told him to protect his Lord at all costs. With a growl, he leaped forward.
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It happened in the blink of an eye and Abronsius had no time to react. When the knife found its mark, the deep grumble turned into a piercing scream. Confused, Abronsius looked around, not able to comprehend what was happening.
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Herbert felt the pain as if the knife had stabbed himself. Agony brought him to his knees, before he instinctively found a way to block Alfred's emotions; block the inextricable connection and so at least reduce the pain.
When he could get back on his feet again, he caught his father rolling Alfred off him and pulling the old man that had been leaning over them towards him.
Alfred fell from the table and onto the floor, squirming and trying in vain to reach the knife that stuck exactly between his shoulder blades – he couldn't reach it with either hand.
All Herbert wanted to do was to rush to Alfred and free him from this ongoing pain. But there were other men in the room, getting over their surprise quickly now. They were approaching the coffin with stakes in their hands. Obviously, they had not noticed Herbert at all.
Herbert decided to lose no time. He approached the first man from behind and broke his neck with a single twisting movement. It was an irksome sound, when the neck broke, but Herbert knew that the man didn't feel it anymore. He was dead in the instant he fell on the floor.
The other man, younger, turned around, clearly horrified, when he heard the snapping sound and cried out when he saw Herbert. Reflexes brought his hand with the stake forward, but Herbert could dodge this deadly plunge. The momentum of his movement pulled the man forward and Herbert helped him falling by pushing his arms on his back. As soon as the man lay on the floor, Herbert sat on him, grabbing his head and twisting it around as well.
Herbert rose and looked around frantically. There was another boy in the corner. Ashen-faced, his stake pointing uselessly at the floor, sliding down the wall as his knees gave way. Herbert started towards this boy too, when he heard his father's voice echoing in his head. "Leave the boy. Help Alfred."
Herbert, who was very willing to follow this order, was suddenly rushing to the young vampire and pulling the knife out of his back. The screams that were still ringing through the room subsided at once.
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Breda ripped his eyes open in the instant he felt a sudden weight on his body and heard a piercing scream. He needed a moment for the picture to sink in – the boy who he had stolen from Chagal's bathroom lay on him and Abronsius had clasped both hands over his mouth. Though he couldn't really see it, he could put two and two together. The old man had indeed stabbed out, only to hit his former assistant, who had come to his aid instead of the old man's. Oh, such irony!
Abronsius looked really shattered, leaning over the coffin to convince himself of the truth of events. Silently asking the young vampire for forgiveness, Breda rolled him off his body before noosing the chain binding his cuffs together around the Professor's neck. He needed no strength to suffocate the old man. Abronsius struggled bravely, but vainly.
"You know, Professor," Breda murmured to him in his agony, "somehow I regret it had to end this way. We could have had so many more enjoyable chats, you and I, given different circumstances. But turning you into a vampire would be most careless of me. You're ruthless, selfish, and have too strong of a character. You lack empathy, are thirsting for glory, and you are one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. My experience tells me that this combination will bring forth the most cruel of vampires. Moreover, you'd be a threat to my claim to power. That is why I shall renounce your company. Rest in peace."
When he finished this little speech (which he had interrupted for a short order to Herbert) Abronsius didn't struggle anymore. Breda concentrated for a moment – there was but one human heart beating in this room, scared and trembling. The other men were all dead. Sighing, he let his arms fall and the Professor's corpse slid onto the floor.
Breda sat up and looked around. Herbert cared for the young vampire, whom he had to owe not his un-life, but his retaining from a lot of pain. Alfred had calmed down a bit after the acrid silver had been pulled out of his body, but the agony must still be there.
He turned to the boy who had been Professor Abronsius's wish for a new assistant and whom he should have sent home in time. The boy, clearly underage, sat on the floor, chalk-white, frightened eyes darting around.
"Come here, boy," Breda commanded softly. The boy simply looked at him, horrified, and Breda could hear his already fast heart-beat speeding up. Breda looked at him, deep in thought. He didn't know much about him; he had only heard the short pleading with the Professor. But that was enough to know that the boy had a hard time at the moment – and that apparently seven lives were depending on him.
Humans were his sustenance. He killed without remorse. But he also knew to be moderate.
"Listen, boy. If you do as I tell you, no harm will come to you," he said before he repeated: "Come here."
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Slowly, Klaus pushed himself up on the wall. He still couldn't really believe what had just happened before his very eyes.
Dead. They were all dead.
When the light-blond beast had turned towards him, he had settled his affairs. His poor, poor mother. His poor siblings. Who would care for them now? But before the beast had reached him, he had suddenly hesitated before turning around.
The vampire in the coffin had killed Abronsius and sat up. Klaus had hoped the entire time that he really was just a corpse, had hoped for a prank. But it was all true. Dracula was true.
Finally he stood, leaning against the wall. He didn't know if his legs would carry him. They trembled strongly. But what could he do? There were only two possibilities: The vampire spoke true and would let him go, as long as he followed his orders. Or he'd die. As quickly as the two scientists from Vienna or as agonizing as the Professor from Königsberg. He had to take the opportunity to live, for his family's sake. So he pushed himself from the wall and approached the vampire, quivering.
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The boy showed bravery when he finally found the strength to stand up before coming nearer.
"There must be one or two small keys in Professor Abronsius's pockets that can open these chains. Find them."
The keys would probably be silver too, so a human was more fit to this task. The boy hesitated before bending down and scouring the corpse for the keys. He finally found them in a pocket of Abronsius's jacket.
"Very well, now open my cuffs," ordered Breda.
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The rummaging through the pockets of the dead Professor had been quite a challenge for Klaus, but this order stretched him to his limit. Klaus simply couldn't hold his hands still and so he dropped the keys several times before finally succeeding in opening the chains.
When the vampire didn't grab him to drink his blood after regaining the use of his hands, Klaus relaxed a tiny bit and opened the chains at the ankles much quicker. Then he retreated to the wall and looked down. He hoped he'd be allowed to go now. He was so terrified.
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Breda first had a good stretch – his muscles were all tightened up for resting in the same position for four nights and days now. Then he rose out of the coffin and kneeled on the floor beside Herbert and the injured Alfred.
"Can you walk?" asked he.
Herbert, who had laid Alfred's head into his lap, swept a lock behind Alfred's ear and said: "Come on Chéri, we'll try to stand up."
Breda looked at Herbert with a raised eyebrow. This new vampire was already "Chéri"? So it really had been a lucky chance to find him. As far as Breda could remember, only two vampires up to now had graduated to "Chéri" – after a distinctly longer time. But he banished these thoughts and helped when Herbert pulled the boy up.
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Alfred's whole body was on fire. He had the feeling of burning up inside and was certain his body would fall apart any second now. It got better a bit after Herbert had pulled out the knife, but what was "a bit" on this level of pain?
It took a while until he could take in his surroundings again.
The pain got worse again when he was pulled upwards. Why couldn't they just let him lie where he was? Finally he was upright again, but he'd rather lean on someone than stand all by himself. He opened his eyes for the first time since the stabbing and saw that Herbert was his support.
He looked around. There lay the Professor, dead. And there were other dead men, too. Alfred realized one thing.
"Thirsty," he gasped. There were three grown men lying here. Blood en masse. He'd surely feel better afterwards.
"No, Chéri. We can't drink now. They're dead. Dead blood is poison for us, if the dead did not die by a vampire's bite. None of them did," Herbert explained.
Alfred's brain was still numb from pain, but he understood some things at least. He wouldn't get blood now. And Herbert had called him Chéri. That was new. But he felt too weak to ponder any longer about it.
"First I'll get you to a friend of mine, then I'll go and catch something to drink for you," a dark voice promised and Alfred saw the Count on his body's other side.
He merely nodded and tried bravely to set one foot in front of the other when they began to move.
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"Boy," Breda addressed the lad. "What's your name?"
"Klaus Herden, Your Excellency," he answered with trembling voice, remembering the title the Professor had used.
"Well, young Klaus Herden. We'll go to the stables now and you will arrange a coach for us, since some of Professor Alibori's guests want to be brought home. Understood?"
Breda knew Alfred would never make the way by foot. He'd rather walk to give his joints a bit of movement. But he'd go hunting later, so that was alright.
"Y-yes, Your Excellency," answered Klaus and followed the vampires out of that terrible laboratory.
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Puzzled, the stable-master opened the door of his small private residence.
"You? You're still here? Damn, that's a long first day, isn't it? What is it now?"
"P- Professor Alibori asked me to bring some of his guests home safely," Klaus murmured and pointed behind him at the vampires.
The stable-master looked past him at the well-dressed gentlemen, one of them obviously not able to stand straight anymore. He grinned. These higher gents were all the same. Drinking one too many and then needing a coach to get home unseen. What would people say if they saw them drunken like this? One of the men confirmed his assumptions when he said:
"Oh no. We don't want to go home yet. Get us to the station, boy. They say there are good pubs there. That will bring us through the night until the train leaves."
Klaus Herden didn't realize that the count was helping him with this, until the next day when he was interrogated by the police to the murders in Alibori's laboratory. Of course the three strangers were never found – not at the station, nor in the towns and cities trains went to that morning.
The stable-master shook his head, but he readied the coach nevertheless. With a whispered "Have fun with these slobs" he finally gave the reins to Klaus.
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Herbert helped Alfred get into the coach and followed him in while Breda sat himself beside Klaus on the box. He didn't trust this boy completely, after all.
The boy shook the reins, apparently inept, and the well-natured horses jogged on. As soon as they passed the gates, Breda took the reins.
"You haven't been driving a coach that often, have you?"
"My first time today," Klaus confessed. Everyone seemed to know before he'd even opened his mouth.
Breda merely nodded, clicked his tongue, and steered the coach safely through the Vienna night. About twenty minutes later, he halted on an unremarkable intersection and turned to Klaus.
"Well. We'll leave you here. It would be best for you to forget this evening. You should also have a reward for your service. And now, get home."
He pressed two coins into the boy's hands and jumped from the box. Herbert had helped Alfred out of the coach already.
Klaus looked at the coins in the dim light of a street lantern. He could only guess what they were. The coins shimmered and were really heavy. Gold. It was real gold! Maybe all would turn out well now. Maybe he could keep going to school after all. His younger brother was already a carpenter's apprentice and would earn wage from next year on. Until then, the savings from their father and these two coins would suffice. And probably there would even be enough left for him to pay his studying fees – at least in the beginning.
Incredulously, he stared at the vampire, who was supporting the injured man once again. He had expected death, instead he got his life back.
"Thank you," he whispered, took the reins and let the horses trot on. He'd somehow bring the coach safely back, for maybe, after all, this was his lucky day.
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"Where are we?" asked Herbert.
"We'll be at a good friend's in a bit."
"Tadeusz?"
"No, that's not a friend, just someone owing me a favor. And someone you find quickly in Vienna, when you're looking for him. This way."
They passed a gate and arrived at a pretty patio. A person sitting on a bench looked up and approached them soon after rising.
"Breda? Breda von Krolock? Is it really you?"
Herbert looked confused. A friend who was allowed to call his father by his name? He'd never expected this. Even Robert wasn't allowed to do so, and Herbert had thought him to be his father's best friend.
"Greetings Baptiste. Unpleasant circumstances brought me hither, but I'll tell you later. The consort of my son is severely injured. Have you got a room for him?"
The vampire named Baptiste looked curisously past Breda. "I'm delighted to meet your son at last. Of course I have rooms for all three of you. I'll insist on your staying for a bit. What's happened to him?"
"Silver knife," Breda merely said. "And two rooms will suffice."
Baptiste turned around and waved them to follow him. He entered the townhouse and called loudly: "Elisabeth, get dressing material and silverherbs into the smaller guest chamber." He then led his guests to the upper floor. For Alfred, walking alone had been hard enough, but now Herbert really had to carry him upstairs.
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Herbert took Alfred into his arms and carried him upstairs like a babe. He entered the, despite its name, rather roomy "small" guest chamber behind his father and Baptiste. Carefully, he lay Alfred down on the bed, where the young vampire turned on his belly at once, as to not burden his wound any further.
Only seconds later, a beautiful vampiress entered, bringing the dressings. Breda looked at Alfred, who lay exhausted on the bed and then he looked at his son. He laid a hand on Herbert's shoulders and said: "I have to go, get a bit exercise. I'll bring something to drink for you. You'll be alright?"
Herbert nodded, pulling the note with Robert's address out of his cape and giving it to his father. "Can you go there? Our tiny bit of luggage has been brought there."
Breda took the note nodding, hesitated for a moment, then pulled his son into a tight embrace. They had not had time yet to celebrate their reunion. Afterwards he left the room, dragging Baptiste with him.
Herbert sat on the bed beside Alfred at once and sorted the things Elisabeth had brought.
"Silverherbs?" Alfred whispered, and one could hear the pain in his voice. He had had some lectures in botany and had never heard of this herb.
"That's just the term among vampires, because it's the only thing that helps against wounds afflicted by silver. It lessens the pain at least a bit. It's a mixture of a couple of herbs – I know that wolf's bane, willow bark and rosemary are in it. Can you sit for a bit? We have to get your shirt off."
Alfred flinched when he struggled to get into a seated position. While Herbert helped him rid himself of the shirt, he explained:
"Silver is by far the most painful thing for us, even if it's not deathly. Even our healing powers, which are way better than those of humans, have a hard time with wounds afflicted by silver. The pain will be better, hourly, but you'll still have a couple of rough nights."
When the shirt was off, Alfred lay back on his belly and Herbert began to dispense the cream largely on and around the wound. Then he reached for the dressings and paused. The dressings would be only to save the clothes from smearing and as long as his father hadn't brought the new clothes, he didn't need to torture Alfred right now by asking him to sit up again.
Instead, he stroke a piece of Alfred's blond hair out of the beautiful face that was now relaxing. Alfred opened his eyes and the intense green looked at him questioningly. Finally, he asked:
"Why do I feel so much pity for myself? I usually don't wallow in self-pity."
Herbert chuckled. So the moment of truth was here already. But why delay it? Actually, this was quite the perfect moment. At least, Alfred wasn't in any condition to strangle him now.
"No, that's more my emotion – I pity you, because I could get a taste of your pain. I still can feel your pain, though cushioned."
Alfred didn't look that surprised. "Why? Is it because of what we did yesterday?"
Herbert drew back the hand that had been stroking through Alfred's hair and exhaled ruefully.
"Yes, it does. You know – two vampires drinking each other's blood enter a bond. The so-called bond of blood. Don't ask me what happens exactly, but we're mystic creatures and it seems to be some kind of magic."
"And this bond of blood makes me feel what you feel and the other way around?"
Herbert nodded. When Alfred stayed silent, Herbert thought him to be angry with him. He couldn't be sure, for he didn't dare open the barrier he had built over Alfred's feelings – he didn't really want to feel his full pain.
"I'm... I'm really sorry. For doing it and even more so that I didn't ask you beforehand. It just – came over me," he whispered apologetically.
"Does this happen often to you?"
"I've never done this before. And I don't think I will ever do it again. I mean – it's a long bond..."
"How long?"
"Forever."
"Well, that IS long."
"Are you angry with me?"
Alfred pondered. To tell the truth, he couldn't feel anger. He was rather happy to be able to feel so much since yesterday. Now he knew those have been Herbert's emotions, but he guessed they would help him to learn his own feelings better. There was just one thing he needed to know right now.
"Did you do it, because... I mean, you want more than just kisses, I know. Did you hope it'll make it easier for you?"
Herbert smiled, smitten. "You know the answer. I do want you, oh yes, you're so right. But I share your emotions now. What, if you don't like it? Believe me, I did not oblige myself with this bond."
"Is there any possibility that 'rash' is your middle name?" Alfred felt a smile twitching in the corners of his mouth.
Herbert laughed. "Oh yes, just ask Father. He'd tell you a lot of stories. On second thought: No, don't ask him. So, you're not angry?"
"Not at the moment. We'll have to see what happens when you get on my nerves," Alfred teased.
Alfred's face looked mischievous now, which caused an amorous sigh by Herbert. He leaned forward and kissed Alfred's neck tenderly.
"Was that your stomach tingling, or mine?" Alfred asked hoarsely.
"Who cares," Herbert whispered and decided to ease Alfred's pain with a lot of kisses now.
TBC