Author's Note:
This story is based on the wonderful German-language musical, Tanz der Vampire (Dance of the Vampires). The late and great Steve Barton created the mysterious, tragic, and erotic role of Count Von Krolock. To this day, Steve has no equal. I HIGHLY encourage my readers to seek out YouTube clips of Steve singing this role. His interpretation is 100% my inspiration for this story, and he is exactly who you should be picturing. I dedicate this story to the memory of Steve Barton. Steve, wherever you are, you are greatly missed. May you rest in peace.
A few changes from the musical:
I am a big fan of Von Krolock's/Sarah's love story. Herbert, Alfred, etc. will NOT be featured.
The story is set in Bavaria, a mostly Catholic, Southern area of Germany. Sarah and her family are Catholic, not Jewish.
Von Krolock's hands and fingers are normal in my story.
I do not own the characters of Count Von Krolock or Sarah and am not publishing this story for any monetary gain. The German lyrics are from the libretto of Tanz der Vampire.
THE REDEMPTION OF COUNT VON KROLOCK
BY A VON KROLOCK LOVER
CHAPTER 1
BAVARIA, GERMANY, 1860
On the nights he kept away from his vigil over Sarah, Count Von Krolock would feed on whomever or whatever crossed his path. Human or animal, after four hundred years, it mattered little to him, as long as his hunger was satisfied, a hunger that came from the basest, beastliest side of his nature. There was no real pleasure in these feedings, they served only to temporarily remove the ache in his fangs and the dryness in his mouth.
They could not compare with the transformation of countless beautiful females, carefully selected over the centuries to he honored by his bite. He had alternately bitten them, then taken them to his bed, or taken them to bed first before sinking his teeth in their fair necks afterward, often during the culmination; either hers or his, enhancing their mutual pleasure in each other.
The danger always lay in the coming dawn, and the sunlight that could obliterate them in seconds. Shortly after his own transformation in 1460, Von Krolock and his mistress had a close call with the light, an experience that terrified him so profoundly, he had ordered the windows of his bedchamber permanently walled over with stones. A windowless chamber that humans would doubtless find stifling, but vampires never felt heat or cold. A roaring fireplace was merely aesthetic, and an icy wind only served to blow his hair about his face. Being completely impermeable to any weather aided Von Krolock in the nightly pursuit of his prey.
As far as animals, men, or unattractive women were concerned, he would drink them dry to their deaths. But a truly alluring female...that was a different matter entirely. He would sample their blood like a fine wine, and the centuries had taught him when the exact moment arrived to cease, in order for them to be preserved for eternity.
And then there were those that he had bedded, but released. These females had been precious to him. There was something in their nature that made him hesitate. They did not deserve his fate. They knew that they were in the clutches of an otherworldly demon, regardless of the pleasure he gave them, and they would tremble in his arms, anticipating his fangs sinking deep into their flesh. What they could not know is that Von Krolock had developed the skill of retracting his fangs when he so wished, which served him well in bed and out of it. Often, especially when a great distance from his domain, he could capture his next meal far more easily when his fangs remained initially hidden.
These females were allowed to keep their souls intact, if not their virginity. It never failed to move Von Krolock when they expressed their shock at their lucky escape; he ensured they were safely returned to their families and were never disturbed again.
The other vampires could not comprehend such behavior. What they wanted, they took with no forethought. In truth, they were by now more animal than human and Von Krolock vowed that a part of him would always feel the emotions of his past. Or the memory of such emotions. It was still there, despite the fearsome countenance he wore, a face that he guessed had become something horrendous to behold, if the reactions of these females were any indication, despite the pleasure he gave them in his bed.
But it had been a long time since he had let a woman go instead of transforming her. How long had it been? Fifty years? Seventy-five?One hundred?
He wondered if he still had it in him, the discipline to restrain himself from baring his fangs and completing what was as natural as breathing.
He had wondered this for years and frankly did not want to test this, for fear that his animalistic side had taken over for good.
And then Sarah was born.
He would fly down to the village and step into the shadows of buildings or trees, or use the powers of invisibility to observe humanity. At this hour, most were asleep, but by total chance, he had lingered at the window of one cottage and for the first time, witnessed Sarah, a flawless newborn with the reddest lips and a shock of dark hair. His unbeating heart constricted painfully. He remembered his children, the babies that died so young, so long ago. He could only hope that they were with God now, the God that was so cruelly denied him for all time.
Von Krolock watched, fascinated, as she cried in her crib until her mother rushed to fetch her. He swallowed at the tenderness between them. He had a sudden desire to hold this babe in his arms, to nuzzle her neck with no intention of harming her. He turned away from the window, struck to the core at such human emotion. It was painful and it hurt so much, he later pounced on an old prostitute he found lingering by the river and put her out of her misery.
The months turned into years. Von Krolock found that he could not keep away from Sarah. He would no longer feed on the nights he watched her sleep, stealing into her bedroom. It weakened him somewhat, these nights with no nourishment, especially when he observed her for two or three nights in a row. Yet it seemed almost blasphemous to watch over such innocence and then feed like a vicious beast on the same night. He would drag himself home, not having the strength to fly. But any suffering on his part was something he gladly endured. In the years of watching over her, he had not reflected overmuch as to why she held such power over him. He was not one for introspection. The ever-present knowledge of his eternal existence often caused him not to question his motives or philosophize too much. Did his reasons for his actions matter in the fullness of time? Did anything he thought, said, or did, really matter to anyone? Even to himself?
But Sarah mattered. Oh, this girl mattered to him more than he could fathom. The paternal tenderness he had felt towards her as an infant had only grown as she matured into a solemn but sweet-natured child. Her parents knew of Von Krolock, they were his tenants after all, and they guarded their daughter relentlessly. Never was she allowed outside after sunset. As she grew into adolescence, on the cusp of womanhood, Von Krolock would render himself invisible and would face her as she stared mournfully out of the window. She would touch the windowpane with her little palm, and he would meet hers with his enormous one on the other side of the glass. It was as if she were in a prison. At fifteen, it would only be a few more years before she was married off to some village boy and she would be lost to him forever.
He wanted for her a destiny far different than what she could possibly imagine. She deserved no less. She wanted it too, even if she had no idea what he had in store for her. Sarah attended school, she read whatever books her parents were able to borrow or procure from the bookseller in a larger town. She was curious about everything and he loved her for it. A mundane village life would never suit her.
Once, he had even overheard a conversation from the open window between Sarah and her mother about the castle on the hill and its master.
"We in the village and neighboring farms never discuss Von Krolock. We give him due respect as tenants, but we can never trust he won't harm us. I fear especially for you, Sarah. His preference is for virgins, and you are fast becoming a beautiful woman. If he ever caught sight of you..." Her mother gave a little sob and buried her face in her hands. "You would lose your eternal soul to him."
"What does he look like, Mother? Have you ever seen him? That I may know to avoid him if I should ever encounter him?"
"Thankfully I have never seen him. Those in the village say he is a giant among men, his black hair is streaked with grey, and it flows past his shoulders. He prefers to dress in the fashions of nearly one hundred years ago. But it is his eyes that give him away. Sometimes dark blue, but mostly black, they are monstrous to behold. There is no longer a soul behind those eyes. He can hypnotize with just a look, and cause his victims to almost swoon with fright."
"Mother, you will give me nightmares tonight!"
At these words, Von Krolock retreated, his cape whirling behind him as he fled. That Sarah should already picture him as a monster before first sight of him was not what he had intended. Damn that woman for putting these ideas into her daughter's head! He strode along at a demon's pace, then stopped dead in his tracks. Could he blame her for it though? Hadn't every word she uttered been true? He sighed and continued the long walk home. So he had his work cut out for him, that was all. The wooing would be more challenging, but was she not worth the effort?
There remained still a few years for him to strategize and to put his plan into action. He would claim her when she was eighteen. She was effectively already a woman, for she had developed early, her breasts full and her hips inviting. Yet...he would wait two more years. He knew now that he had been waiting for her for four hundred forty-six years, his earthly time combined with his afterlife. He could wait another two.
In the meantime, every virgin he bedded became Sarah in his arms. He transformed them all. as if rehearsing for the main event. He had never been a particularly romantic lover, not even in life with his long-dead countess, but he was an exciting one with boundless energy. He ensured that every woman experienced ecstasy in his bed. It was the least he could do since he could not resist taking their souls.
Soon after Sarah celebrated her eighteenth year, Von Krolock began gathering little gifts for her and planting them in her bedroom. A book of poems. A rose. A bottle of perfume although her natural scent was so enticing, she had no real need for it. His sense of smell was far above the average human. He could smell her blood even within her body. He could smell her scent between her legs when she became naturally aroused in her dreams. The mixture intoxicated him. In an impulsive moment, he resolved to appear to her the subsequent night for the first time. He had gifted her the perfume a few days ago and she had had the good sense to conceal it. A book or a rose could be explained away, but not perfume. Her parents would assume she had a secret lover...and they would not be wrong.
He smiled to himself, as he watched her sleep and reached out to touch her for the first time. He stroked her dark curls and his hand trailed down to one breast. Ah, what torment. He wanted her this instant. Her virginity and her blood.
"One more night, Sarah," he whispered. "One more night and I will come for you, my beloved."
