Flesh Wounds Page 3

  “Show yourself, witch!” There was a chuckle, and then a pause. The Count and company stood frozen in place, afraid to anger whatever magical entity was inhabiting the castle.

  “As you wish.”

  The temperature in the room dropped to a chill, and then the rear window blew open, allowing a forceful gust of wind to extinguish all the candles and torches in the hall. In the darkness, they didn’t notice that the gust of wind had materialized into a woman with a strange looking staff.

  “Who are you and what are you doing in my castle? Stealing my gold?”

  No one wanted to answer, as the sight of her before them was enough to scare them into the next century.

  She was tall and statuesque, her posture rigid. Her skin carried a blue tint, and she had rather large horns on her head. The look in her eyes suggested that she was older than she appeared.

  “We were unaware that this castle was inhabited, milady.”

  “My name is Maleficent, you fool.” She took a seat on her throne and beckoned a large raven to her shoulder.

  “The Dragon!” General Helsing gasped, trying to hide his fear behind a brave face.

  “Yes.” She hissed, running a hand over the orb on her staff. “And now I must decide what to do with you.”

  “We never meant any harm, my lady, we were just about to leave.” The Count was slowly walking backwards towards the front door.

  “I don’t think so.” Maleficent waved her hand, effectively locking them in.

  “Such arrogance, such greed. Which one of you is the leader?”

  Count Marious stepped forward, looking the woman dead in the eye. “I am.”

  Maleficent leaned forward, planning to toy with the man for her entertainment.

  “What do you know of me, young one?” And that was an extremely good question. What did he know?

  In all the books he read as a boy, there were frequent mentions of a race of people known as forest sprites. Guardians of nature, the ancient celestial beings were blessed with certain gifts later known as magic.

  Their magic was primal, unrestrained, and yet neither light nor dark.

  The three oldest fairies were named for the domains they governed: White, Black, and Blue (white for life, black for death, and blue for judgment). There was a falling out with the Black Fairy when she decided that magic could be so much more than just a tool to grow trees and create fires, going against her sisters to create something worthy of the “powers of hell”. As a result, she was banished to the Enchanted Forest to live as a dragon. This woman, Maleficent, was the first user of modern dark magic.

  “You created dark magic, you went against the laws of nature.”

  “Correct. And it’s been an awfully long time since I had anyone to practice it on. I’ve been working on a new curse, care to try it out?” Count Marious was powerless in this situation, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to defeat someone like her in a swordfight.

  Maleficent removed a scroll of paper from her orb and inhaled, breathing green fire onto the paper.

  The scroll burned to a crisp, its ashes circling the air. Before the Count knew what was happening, he was inhaling the ashes and falling to the floor in immense pain.

  “I call it ‘The Curse of Eternal Night’, or vampirism.” Maleficent cackled, changing into her dragon form.

  She unleashed her wrath on his men, and soon the entire castle was enveloped in flames.

  But Count Marious didn’t get to witness this, as the pain became too much for him to bear- passing out to the sounds of his dying men.

  Two months later

  “None of these women will do!” He growled, tossing the red haired woman in his arms aside. She was far too feeble, too weak, to serve him any purpose.

  The Count needed a wife that would be worthy of him and his magical prowess, and he was quickly running out of patience.

  “I’m sorry my lord, but they are the best the kingdom has to offer.”

  His human servant meekly stammered, hiding behind the banquet table for shelter.

  “Find me the seer by the name of the Blind Witch. I’m done wasting time.”

  Count , now going by the name Marious, then picked the poor girl off of the floor and tore into her flesh with his teeth.

  “I knew you would request my help.” The seer walked around the throne room aimlessly, running her hands blindly over the walls and columns.

  “Then I suppose you already know of my plight.”

  Marious took another sip from his goblet, eyeing the witch curiously- she was rumored to be the best fortune teller in the kingdom, and he hoped she wouldn’t disappoint, for her sake.

  The seer paused, then took a few strides in his direction.

  “Indeed. But the woman you seek hasn’t been born yet.” Marious slumped back into his throne with a huff. Not the news he wanted to hear.

  “Oh? Pray tell.”

  “In three hundred years’ time, there will be a daughter born to the king and queen of Solis. She will have beauty beyond compare, and will be the most powerful sorceress this realm has ever seen.” The Blind Witch reached for his hand, stroking it with her thumbs.

  “But she will commit unspeakable evils, a monster, like you.”

  Marious was intrigued, he didn’t mind a little darkness. With her, they would be a power couple, an unstoppable force.

  “What’s the catch?”

  “You cannot turn her, if you do she will die.”

  He growled, irritated. Was this witch going to give him any good news?

  “What do I have to do?”

  “One hundred years from today there will be a man that seeks your help.

  His name is Dracula, and he will ask for a cure on behalf of his infant son Abraham. There will be nothing you can do for the child, but you must gain his trust. Once you do, you will turn him into a vampire. He will be of great use to your cause.”

  “How so?”

  “Reborn as the Dark One, he will be relentless in his quest for power. A new Dark Age will befall the realm, and magic will reign supreme. You won’t need to hide any longer.”

  “And what of my wife?”

  “He will be the man to turn her. Bide your time, she will come to you.”

  The seer let go of his hand and motioned to be escorted out of the castle.

  Dracula let her leave, but not before she answered one final question.

  “Can you tell me her name?”

  The witch turned around and smiled at him, all too eager to fulfill his request.

  “Queen Akasha Ava Victoria of Lunaria, the darkest of them all.”

  Chapter 6

  Betrayal

  The last twenty-four hours had been a blur. He remembered waking up in a haystack outside the village inn feeling dazed and confused. It was dark, late in the evening (going by the number of intoxicated patrons exiting the inn’s bar), and cold. Dracula had no idea how he ended up in the village, but he assumed that one of the brides brought him back here when he was unconscious. With that assumption, he took a moment to let his new reality sink in: he was a vampire now, a monster. But surprisingly, he wasn’t too bothered by this- he had vampire venom of his own that he could take back to his son. Everything would work out.

  After laying in the haystack for what felt like hours, he could no longer ignore the burning in his throat. He had to feed. And really, Dracula should have been more disturbed by the new, cannibalistic nature of his diet, but he wasn’t. The venom had altered his mind to think of humans as nothing more than animals. And animals could be hunted.

  Choosing prey at random, he approached an older man with a pint of ale in his hand. The man screamed, but no one heard him- Dracula quickly covered his mouth and moved them away from the crowd. In the dark alleyway, the man still trembled in fear, and the vampire knew why: Dracula, right before turning him, had unnatural amber eyes and translucent skin. It was enough to frighten anyone, but at the moment Dracula knew the man had noticed his fangs, so he had t
o make this quick.

  “Forgive me.”

  It was over in a few seconds, but he didn’t feel sated. The taste of that man’s blood only whetted his appetite- typical for a newborn. He went back to the inn, intent on claiming another victim, when he overheard a conversation between two younger looking men.

  “How’s your sister?”

  “Not well, her infant son just died.” Dracula’s dead heart panged in sympathy: he couldn’t imagine loosing his own son.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, what was the cause?”

  “He stopped breathing in the middle of the night, they think it was a problem with his lungs.” The vampire noticed that detail right away, as he was informed by the seer that a lung disorder would take his child. But it was simply a coincidence, nothing more.

  “Tell Mina I send my condolences.” No. It couldn’t be. Not Abraham.

  “I shall. It’s too bad her husband wasn’t there; he’s off fighting in the Werewolf War.”

  He inhaled a sharp breath, silencing his outcry with his cloak. The worst case scenario had now occurred, and he had failed his family.

  He left after that, unable to hear the rest of the conversation. He had taken too long and now Abraham was dead.

  The pain was unimaginable, and he collapsed against a nearby tree.

  He would never see his son again, never see him take his first steps and say his first word. Dracula’s first response was to deny that it was Abraham, given that he had no prior knowledge of Mina having any siblings, but then again he never met any of her family. It was certainly plausible.

  Having decided that returning home could wait, Dracula would fully embrace his destiny as the Dark One.

  Kingdom of Helios Tower of Light, 1525

  “I was a fool to think he would come.” Mahret yelled in frustration, leaning partly out of the tower’s northern facing window. It was ridiculous, really. Had she truly believed that she was worthy of the Dark One’s time?

  “Careful, one might think you have a death wish.” Maharet turned around, a hand over her rapidly beating heart.

  “So, you came after all. I’m honored that you agreed to my request.”

  She crossed the room to shake his hand, but he waved her off.

  “No need for that, dearie. I never cared for formalities. Just names.”

  Princess Mahret of Helios, and I am in desperate need of your help.” She sat down on the lounge, smoothing the layers of her dress nervously.

  “Yes, the bastard child. Looking to get rid of it?” Mahret’s eyes had doubled in size: had her father said something?

  “How did you know? The only person I told was my father.” Dracula paced the room looking rather bored, conjuring a wooden spinning wheel in front of her.

  I can see the future, but that’s besides the point. Are you willing to make a deal around the baby?”

  “I asked you here to teach me magic, not get rid of my child.” The Dark One giggled, motioning towards the spinning wheel.

  “And I will do just that. I will teach you how to spin straw into gold.” He waved his hand, causing the wheel to spin on its own, and a few golden strands fell to the floor in a heap.

  “King Xavier’s treasury is bankrupt: if you demonstrate that you can turn ordinary straw into gold, he will offer you one of his sons to marry.”

  While Mahret was mesmerized by the show of magic before her, she was still uneasy about the whole situation- something about Dracula bothered her.

  “And I assume that your price is my firstborn?”

  Now you get it!” He slid up behind her, placing his hands on her hips. Mahret went rigid from the unexpected contact, skin crawling as Dracula trailed a fingernail up and down her neck. She shivered- his touch was ice cold.

  “Why do people call you the Dark One?” She asked, knowing that such a nickname had to be well earned.

  I have a…skin condition that makes it hard to go out during the day.”

  Mahret didn’t believe that was the reason. She knew a bullshit excuse when she heard one.

  “Oh really? Please elaborate, I’d love to know how sunlight causes you harm.”

  She laid the sarcasm on thick, twisting her neck around to look back at him.

  Dracula stopped the creepy massage and moved into the light, his features now fully illuminated.

  “This is what I am. A creature of the night with a thirst for bloodlust.”

  She hadn’t expected that revelation, but there were a variety of supernatural beings inhabiting the Enchanted Forest that lived among humans- vampires were just one of many. Hell, if she became a sorceress like she planned, she would be considered a supernatural being herself. Whatever upper hand Dracula thought he had was useless: she wasn’t scared of him in the least, and she told him so.

  “Be that as it may, there’s no need to intimidate me or seduce me, Dark One. You can have the child. I don’t particularly care for it.” Dracula went silent, trying very hard not to lose his temper.

  “What?” He was right in front of her face in a matter of seconds, hands gripping her shoulders.

  “I can’t marry a prince with a child born out of wedlock. If I have to trade my baby for power, I will not hesitate.”

  Dracula was literally seething with anger, and decided that their current deal would no longer do. She had the only thing he regretted losing inside her, and she was just going to abandon it? No, he didn’t want her baby. A person like that needed to suffer.

  “I’m altering the deal.” He let go of her shoulders and shoved her to the floor, beginning a magical incantation.

  “You will succeed, Mahret. The prince will marry you, and you will bare him a child, securing your position on the throne. You will forget about the child you threw away, and your life will be perfect- at a great cost.”

  Dark magic was swirling around him, sucking all the life out of the room.

  Mahret tried to get up, but she was held in place by an invisible force.

  “You will lose the ability to love, and be loved in return.” She could feel a pain beginning in her chest caused by his dark magic, and she couldn’t help but cry out.

  “And as I’m feeling particularly malevolent, the same will also extend to any and all of your children. Because of you, Mahret, they will never experience true happiness. That is my curse.”

  “You monster!” The pain had increased tenfold, and she was on the cusp of blacking out.

  “Takes one to know one, dearie!” He towered over her body, watching her writhe in torment.

  “Do you like the curse, your majesty? Isn’t it just horrible?” He was enjoying this immensely, but it wasn’t enough. He did just show her how to do magic, and that deserved something in return. While he no longer wanted her baby, the child was still important to him. He would give it time, and perhaps all would work out.

  “However, now that I think about it, I want something after all. You got your magic lesson, but what will you give me, Maharet? I’d keep a close eye on your children in the future, if I were you.”

  His smirking face was the last thing she saw before darkness finally took her.

  The Dark One saw himself out, informing the tower guard that the princess had suddenly fallen ill, and that sending for the royal healer would be most wise.

  Chapter 7

  The Bastard Child

  Two weeks later, Mahret wholeheartedly regretted asking for the Dark One’s help: had she known the consequences of that meeting, she never would have talked her father into finding him. After he cursed her, she blacked out, regaining consciousness in her chambers later that day. Her parents had caused a great commotion, demanding to know what the Dark One had done to her. Given the king and queen’s views on magic, she couldn’t tell them the truth- they would have locked her away until she realized her mistake.

  That was something she couldn’t afford- she had to find a way to counteract the curse before she gave birth.

  She may not feel emotionally attached to her
firstborn, but no child should be forced to suffer in that regard. Especially the child that would be her ticket to the throne.

  Unfortunately, she quickly realized that any magical research had to wait. The constant, burning pain in her chest made preforming menial tasks unbearable. What was she going to do?

  “Ugh!” Mahret practically ripped her bedroom door off its hinges in her anger.

  “If only I could…remove the damn thing!” And then it hit her, she could do just that. Remembering back to her childhood, there had been stories of a man in the kingdom that lost his wife in childbirth, and in his grief he reached into his chest and tore his own heart out so he wouldn’t have to feel anything ever again. She hadn’t believed it then, but maybe it was possible with magic?

  Maharet searched her chambers for anything useful for the procedure: a jug of warm water, left there by her maid, a clean towel, in case there might be blood, and a wooden box to keep her heart in. It would have to do.

  Before she could change her mind, Maharet took a deep breath and plunged her hand into her chest. It was an odd sensation, but it didn’t hurt as bad as she thought it would. Feeling around for her heart, she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled. There was certainly pain that time, but at least it was out, and she was still alive. Absolutely thrilled that it worked, and that she was no longer in pain, Mahret carefully laid her pulsing heart in the box and hid it where no one would find it. She was vulnerable now- one hard squeeze and she’d be dead.

  “Now, what do I do with you, my child?” She ran a hand over her stomach with indifference- being pregnant was such an inconvenience.

  Which was an odd sentiment for her to have: in the past, she felt a sense of guilt for having to give up her child. But now, after removing her heart, the guilt disappeared and the pity turned to utter disdain.

  “Let’s see if mommy dearest can learn how to make portals. Then you’ll be out of my life forever!” The prospect was thrilling- she had several months to hone her craft, and then she could shift her focus onto seducing King Xavier’s son: Prince Henry.

  Six Months Later