The Satanic Brides of Dracula

by Lucas Thorn

  Sighed.

  Then jumped back onto the wagon and dropped down. Pressed her back against Vasilja’s. Pulled her hat down so the rain couldn’t hit her face. Couldn’t hide her grin. “I can’t help it, Vasilja. It’s just so amazing.”

  “I know. And when we come back, I promise we’ll run in the streets like mad things together. I won’t care what anyone thinks. But tonight, I’d rather we weren’t fighting any vampire hunters. I’m sure Dimiti would like some sleep, too. Wouldn’t you, Dimiti?”

  “I wouldn’t mind, Lady. If it’s convenient.”

  “Don’t talk like that. Of course it’s inconvenient. But we make do, don’t we?”

  “Don’t listen to her, Dimiti,” Senka called. “She’s just annoyed because she has to make the decisions now.”

  “You’re right I’m annoyed. I’m positively livid. I don’t like making decisions. I liked it better when Hailwic was here.” She tightened her jaw. “But she’s not. So, I’m doing my very best and you could help an awful lot by actually being polite enough to listen to what I say.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good enough for now, I suppose.”

  The hotel overlooked the lake, and Vasilja booked two rooms. One for Dimiti, and one for her and Senka.

  “I don’t want to be disturbed,” she told the clerk. “Not at all. I don’t want my bed made. I can make it myself. I’m not an invalid. I shan’t need a maid. My sister here is good enough for that. Not good for much else, of course. Are you even listening to me, you wretched little man?”

  The clerk blinked, finding it difficult to focus. “Of course, Lady. Everything will be as you ask, I assure you.”

  “I want a hot bath for Dimiti, too. It should do his cramps some good. And he’s beginning to stink.”

  Dimiti nodded, hat in hand. “Thank you, Lady.”

  “I shall also want to know where we can sell our wagons. We wish to take a train to Paris and we don’t want to be burdened by such trivialities as wagons and horses.” Vasilja closed her eyes and let out an exasperated grunt. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

  “Yes, Lady. I’m listening.” The clerk waved his hands. Too flustered to know where to put them. “Sell the wagons. I can find someone. I’m sure I can.”

  “You’d better. Or I’ll let Senka bite you.”

  Senka grinned at him.

  “Umm, that won’t be necessary,” he said. “Would there be anything else?”

  “Train tickets, of course! We will require privacy. A cabin of our own, if they have such things. And we have luggage. And two coffins. Dimiti will advise you on how we want those handled.”

  “Coffins?” He winced.

  “Yes. Have you got a problem with your hearing? I wish to have tickets arranged immediately, and would like to leave Zurich without delay.”

  “Yes, Lady.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  “Your rooms,” he stuttered. “I can show you to your rooms?”

  “Don’t bother. Have someone assist Dimiti.”

  “What about yourselves?”

  “We’ve been travelling through mountains, forests, and ghastly little towns with no name. We’ve seen restaurants and wine bars, and we wish to visit some of them to rid our mouths of the taste or rural blandness.”

  “I could recommend one, Lady?”

  “We can find our own way, thank you. We’re not as useless as Senka looks. Dimiti?”

  “Aye, Lady?”

  “Do wash thoroughly, won’t you? Take a long soak.”

  “Aye, Lady.” He ducked his head and looked around at the fine surroundings. “Never thought I’d find myself in a place like this.”

  Vasilja held out her arm, which Senka took. “Come, Senka. Let’s go out for a bite to eat.”

  The clerk watched them leave.

  “Beautiful,” he muttered. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

  “And, if you live to be as old as me, son, you’ll never see one as such again. I promise you that.”

  “Both of them.” The clerk looked to Dimiti, eyes desperate to convey feelings he couldn’t bear to repress any longer. Blurted; “How would a man choose between them?”

  “I can’t rightly say.” The old man looked down at the battered ammunition box cradled in his arms and shook his head. “But, though you’d never believe me, it used to be even harder.”

  Outside, Vasilja shivered as a curtain of rain rode the wind from one end of the street to the other. Under cover of the overhanging roof, she watched water spatter the lower hem of her dress and shook her head. “This is why you should never travel this far into Winter, Senka. It’s too miserable outside to really enjoy yourself.”

  “I don’t think it’s that bad. Imagine if we were still at the castle. We’d be sitting looking at each other and going crazy. Don’t you remember when it snowed really bad a few years ago? We were stuck inside for weeks. I was so hungry.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You know I am. You’re the one who wanted to travel in the first place, remember?”

  “I am, aren’t I? I think I just feel terrible because of Hailwic.”

  “Don’t worry,” Senka said. Firm. “I promise I can bring her back.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.” Smile. “Yet.”

  Vasilja pulled the other vampire closer. “You know, I think the reason I never hated you as much as I wanted to was because you are always so horribly cheerful. You’re like a little cat looking at a hole in the wall. And you know there’s a mouse inside, even though you haven’t seen him yet. So, you sit there. And sit there. And you wait for the mouse to show its face.”

  “And then I bite it?”

  “I don’t know, Senka. We’ve yet to see the mouse, are we? It’s possible you’ll starve to death looking at the hole. Either way, I’m amused by your optimism, and that’s a positive.”

  “I can see a mouse, Vasilja. In fact, I can see two.”

  “Oh, yes. We do have their attention. But I think they’re not sure if you’re a man.”

  Senka took off the hat and let her hair fall down around her face. “Is that better?”

  “Yes, I think that did it. Shall we go and introduce ourselves?”

  “Only if you’re going to let me bite them.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because Hailwic would have said we had to be careful.”

  “Yes, well. I’m not Hailwic, am I?” She closed her eyes for a moment. Then smiled wide. “All the same, a little prudence wouldn’t go astray.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, bite them carefully. Let’s not make too much noise.”

  “I’ll try if you will.”

  “Then this will be a learning experience for both of us, won’t it?” She lifted her head suddenly and aimed her gaze at the two young men who’d hesitated in lamplight. “Excuse me, gentlemen? Would you by chance know of a nice quiet place one might engage in conversation? Preferably with musical accompaniment. But not peasant music. I don’t want to hear any accordions. Or mouth harps. I want something sophisticated.”

  The two men looked at each other for a moment, unsure of their luck.

  Then, while one looked shyly to his feet, the other stated boldly; “I think I know just the place. Would you like us to show you there, ladies?”

  Senka nodded; “Yes, please!”

  “Then, follow us! Onward to adventure, I say.” He made a small bow. “My name is Karl. And this is my friend, Wilhelm. Are you Swiss, by chance?”

  “No, silly,” Vasilja laughed. “No, we’re from much further away. I am Vasilja. And this is my sister, Senka.”

  “Fellow travellers, then?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Are you travelling alone?”

  “Of course,” she said. Waggled her finger under his nose. “But don’t get any indiscreet ideas. My sister here has a terrible bite. As I’m sure one of y
ou will find out.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The train was almost too much for Senka.

  Still brimming with Wilhelm’s blood, the young vampire settled into their cabin with insatiable delight.

  There were two small beds on either side which still managed to convey a sense of confident luxury despite the somewhat cramped interior. Each had a curtain which could be draped across for privacy.

  A little table squeezed between. Two plush leather seats promised comfort, if not dignity. A tiny alcove for washing. Small closet.

  As the train wound through the city in search of escape, its heavy mechanical thrusts and deep engine growls had Senka moving from window to corridor. Unable to contain herself as she tried to absorb every moment of experience.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said. “Look at the carving in the wood. Isn’t it intricate?”

  “Yes, it’s very nice.”

  “And these sheets. Silk. So much silk. Feel this! It’s so smooth. And the blankets!”

  “Yes.” Vasilja lounged in her seat. Unmoving. “Very pretty.”

  “Where will we sleep?”

  “Unfortunately, in here. I didn’t want to stay in our coffins for the whole journey. Humans get awfully upset if they catch you climbing out of one.”

  “What about the window?”

  “Dimiti bought a sheet of leather for me. And some waxed canvas bags for us to sleep inside.”

  “Bags?”

  “Yes. They use them to transport corpses these days. Think of them like portable coffins.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “It is. But it should do to keep the sunlight out. Not that there’s a terrible amount of it this time of year. One advantage to travelling in Winter, I suppose.” She frowned, putting her finger to her chin. “You know, now I think about it, if we put some work into them, they’d be better than dragging coffins around with us everywhere we go.”

  Heading out of the city, the train raced around a curve in the track and Senka swayed with it, face lit with a smile. “Did you feel that? It’s so fast! Do you think we could fly as fast as this?”

  “For a short time, I should think.”

  “I want to try. I want to race it!”

  “Senka, please. That’s much too dangerous. What if you can’t keep up? What if you fall behind? Then we’d have to all get off the train. And we might lose the coffins. Or our soil.”

  The young vampire pulled the window open and the freezing wind roared into the small cabin with icy claws. Far from distressing, it instead excited her as her hat flew from her head and bounced to Vasilja’s feet.

  Repressing the urge to stomp on it, Vasilja instead just looked at it like it was a bug.

  Turned as someone knocked on the door.

  Opened.

  The steward stood meekly outside, brass buttons on his uniform gleaming bright. “Lady,” he said. “Just checking everything is alright?”

  “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Then followed his gaze to where Senka was shoving her head out the window to laugh into the rushing wind. “Oh, never mind her. She’s an idiot.”

  “I heard that!”

  “You were meant to!” Then back to the steward; “It’s probably for the best if we weren’t disturbed. Can you ensure this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Excellent. Then, if you require anything else from us, please talk to Dimiti in the next cabin.”

  “Naturally, Lady.” He winced as he glanced at Senka again. “Lady, I don’t mean to be intrusive, but we are coming to the Tunnel soon. It’s not healthy to have the window open. The sulfur, you see. And the acid. It’s best to keep the window closed until we’ve been through.”

  “Yes, yes. I appreciate your concern,” she said, closing the door in his face. “Senka! Will you pull your head inside, please? You’re not a dog. At least, for now I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I will in a minute!”

  “Did you hear the steward? He said there’s a tunnel coming up.”

  “I heard him!”

  “Then stop playing around and do what he suggested, will you?”

  “I told you. In a minute! I can see it up ahead! There’s plenty of time.”

  “You could at least help with our bags.”

  “There’s plenty of time for that, too!”

  Senka felt the wind as it cruised past her face. The trees and the mountains seemed to shoot past. Rain hit her cheeks so hard it was like each drop had the power to cut into skin.

  Flecks of coal.

  Smoke from the engine.

  Fumes of oil.

  And the power. So much power.

  She wondered what it would be like to stand in front of it. To let it hit. Would she be obliterated? Would anything be left of her?

  She imagined the impact. Grinned at the majesty of it.

  Up ahead, the tunnel’s mouth seemed to roar in anticipation as the furious energy of the steam engine pulled the train faster.

  Faster.

  A gentle curve. A passive slope.

  Closer.

  She knew what she was doing was wrong. But she had to feel the air inside the tunnel on her face.

  She looked over her shoulder. A wicked grin aimed at Vasilja.

  “Stop it, Senka, please.”

  Something in Vasilja’s voice made her think of Hailwic. And a flash of guilt ribboned through her undead heart. While Hailwic’s skull lay in the small box beside the door, she was having fun.

  Too much fun.

  The thought made her start to pull her head inside.

  When a hollow howl of wind made her look ahead.

  The tunnel.

  It swallowed the train in a rush of utter darkness which drenched the cabin in shadow and made Vasilja let out a yelp of surprise. “Senka!”

  Sulfur.

  Stink of it was thick.

  Cloying.

  It raced into her nostrils. The Devil’s own fumes.

  Pouring into her lungs and infecting her blood.

  She opened her mouth to say something.

  Was hit by a wave of searing fire which seemed to rip her from the train. Felt flung into the dark reaches of the tunnel, sulfur and acid clawing into her flesh. Burning.

  She screamed.

  Thought she did.

  Mouth open, the scream died into mute suffering.

  And then she was floating.

  Darkness.

  Silence.

  Which cleared as milky light crept out of nowhere.

  Drifting across a chasm of thick green smoke. Underneath the layer of smoke, pale white arms reached for her. Millions of them, reaching. White fingers. Splintered nails. Dead flesh beneath skin.

  Reaching.

  Clawing. Rasp of their skin against each other the only sound she could hear.

  She drifted across the sea of flesh, eyes on the horizon.

  Smoke curled around her ankles and was scattered in her wake.

  Across the chasm, she continued to drift. Gliding on a gentle breeze. Pulled on invisible thread.

  Swaying.

  Unable to move.

  Then saw it.

  A temple.

  Tall and dark. Moulded out of flesh and stone. Rampant carnality corrupting the ground in all directions around it. Writhing figures worked themselves to frenzy. Demons danced among them, boisterous and enthused.

  Drinking the essence of unholy union.

  Perversions she’d never dreamt of were played out in front of her like a performance as the damned were raped again and again for the pleasure of an unknowable eye.

  Twisted mutations dragged themselves out of luminescent green lakes. Things with swollen protrusions, pus-filled sores, tentacles. Slime-drenched and whimpering in agony, they crawled. Crawled however they could toward the temple.

  To observe. To worship.

  Or to beg.

  Bats wheeled overhead, eyes burning with foul green light. Their voices skatin
g through the dark.

  A winged demon flapped past, not looking at her. Its gaze firm on the temple’s altar. Felfire rippled along its shoulders. Opened its maw and rancid green drool spilled from its lips.

  At the temple’s peak, a green flame burned like a beacon. It roared high, a fire of seething rage and poisoned hunger. The cavern ceiling above, impossibly high, reflected the unholy light across the entirety of Hell.

  He was there.

  She could feel his presence.

  Dracula’s master. Her master.

  Lucifer. Satan. A thing of a thousand names, and one.

  The Devil himself.

  Slowly, he turned.

  Eyes burning with the corruption of Felfire. Horns long and curved. Wings diseased and black. Power radiated from him like heat from the sun. Brimstone and ash.

  “Senka…”

  The voice was turpentine and sludge. It speared through her head like a stick of thorns. Left her mind vibrating and soul bleeding.

  Numb, her voice fell from her mouth; “Master.”

  He pointed to the altar.

  In the heart of the burning fire, the Felstone rolled. Half-submerged in the writhing plasma of burning souls. Malignant beyond description, its evil slithered outward. Infected everything it touched.

  The ground writhed in torment beneath its touch. Beyond the temple, Hell’s gardens were where the stone feasted, devouring souls fed to its rapacious appetite.

  Demons, lured by its song, were draped in molten Felfire. They crumbled where they stood, their essence melting into the stone.

  Joining with it.

  Her stomach churned at the putrid stench.

  Fel drifted across the ground. Slid up her leg like an ethereal snake. Eldritch mist coiling her arms.

  She could feel it.

  Feel its power.

  Calling.

  Calling to her.

  “Senka…”

  The Felstone hummed. Pulsing energy.

  A thrumming rhythm which rang through Hell’s twisted realms like a bell. Souls screeched their torment. Demons plugged their ears to the sound.

  And Satan laughed his manic laugh.

  Sharp pain to her cheek.

  He turned towards her, green flame dancing around his shoulders. Eyes burning with terrible desires. Finger still pointing to the stone.

  “Senka!”

  She woke with a scream.

  And Vasilja’s arms were around her.