by R. L. Ullman
I think about Aura, Rage, and even InvisiBill.
I couldn’t imagine them being chased down.
Hunted.
“And now, here we are again,” Faustius says, “with yet another Van Helsing leading the charge. But instead of angry mobs, this one is using Supernatural children to destroy other Supernaturals. It’s a novel approach, but should we simply stand by and let history repeat itself? I don’t think so. Instead, let’s create a world where Supernaturals live in peace.”
I’m confused. For some reason he’s making sense.
“It’s all within our reach, Bram,” Faustius says. “You see, because your great-grandfather was not a vampire, he only succeeded in destroying Count Dracula’s mortal body. But Count Dracula’s spirit wasn’t destroyed. It lives on. That is why he can be resurrected. That is why he can be returned to life. And with my steady hand guiding him, we can show humanity that Supernaturals are once again the superior race.”
Superior race? Hold on a second!
“You’re nuts,” I say. “That’s wrong!”
“Is it?” Faustius says. “Is it any more wrong than what Van Helsing has planned for you?”
“What are you talking about?” I say.
“You mean, you don’t know?” Faustius says, his right eyebrow rising. “Are you saying your trustworthy Headmaster didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me?” I say. “Tell me what?”
“Please, Bram” he says, looking into my eyes. “Heed my words, because unlike Van Helsing, you can trust me to always tell you the truth. Van Helsing may have told you that you are the last of the vampires, but I fear he neglected to tell you what that means.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my heart pounding a mile a minute.
“I am sorry, Bram,” he says. “But only a vampire can truly kill another vampire.”
Wait, what?
Only a vampire can truly kill another vampire?
He’s right. Van Helsing never told me that.
“W-What are you saying?” I ask, fearing the answer.
“Don’t you see?” Faustius says. “Van Helsing is using you. Because you are half-vampire, Van Helsing is planning to sacrifice your life to destroy Count Dracula.”
THE FACE OF EVIL
I’m utterly speechless.
I mean, this Faustius guy just dropped a bomb on me. First, he tells me only a vampire can truly kill another vampire. That’s some pretty important information that Van Helsing forgot to mention. Then, Faustius claims Van Helsing is just using me to destroy Count Dracula—and he’s willing to sacrifice my life in the process!
Why didn’t Van Helsing tell me that? Was he afraid I’d run away? Or is Faustius just blowing smoke?
For a second, I don’t know who to believe.
But then I remember Faustius saying he’s the High Lord of the Dark Ones, the evil group that killed my parents. Plus, he confirmed the Dark Ones are still searching for the Blood Grail so they can bring Count Dracula back to life. And to top it off, he’s got me trapped in his crazy laboratory.
I’d say that’s three strikes.
Winner—Van Helsing.
I need to keep Faustius talking until I find a way out.
“Why are you so angry with Van Helsing anyway?” I ask. “What did he do to you?”
“He betrayed me,” Faustius says, his lips quivering.
Wow, I can tell whatever happened between those two is still really bugging him. I need to keep him distracted. “What do you mean?” I say.
“If you must know, it all began decades ago,” Faustius says, his eyes drifting into space. “At that time, I was just a boy, orphaned and alone, working as a clerk in the town library. For a hard day’s work, I was paid in bread and allowed to sleep on the cold basement floor. Everyone assumed I was stupid, but I knew I had special talents. I had a gift for languages, and I was fascinated by books. They were my escape. My sanctuary.”
Faustius heads towards the metal tables.
“At night, after everyone would leave, I would read by candlelight, consuming book after book, always wishing for a more adventurous life like my heroes in the great stories. And then, one day, almost by accident, I stumbled across a dusty book lodged beneath a bookcase. I had never seen it before. It’s cloth cover was tattered, and the pages inside had strange letters and intricate drawings. It captivated me, and I wondered what this odd book was about.”
For some reason, a chill runs down my spine.
“It took me months to decode it,” he continues, “translating each page letter by letter, word by word. I quickly realized it wasn’t a story at all, but rather an ancient book of Black Magic. I studied it carefully, committing every incantation to memory, but I was too timid to try any of them myself.”
Okay, maybe getting him talking wasn’t such a good idea because this is getting weirder by the minute.
“Until one day,” Faustius says, his eyes narrowing. “I was sweeping the alleyway when I was accosted by a group of privileged and bored teenagers. I tried to ignore them, but they persisted. Things quickly turned physical, and they left me in a broken heap. As I stumbled back into the library, I swore things would be different from that day forward. I pulled out the book of Black Magic, turned to an entry entitled ‘Spell of Summoning,’ and carefully followed the instructions. Then, to my astonishment, a small creature appeared before me.”
“Wait, what?” I blurt out.
“He was as big as a puppy,” Faustius says, “with red skin, little horns and big, black eyes. Without uttering a sound, he left the library, and when he returned, I knew exactly what he had done. He had avenged me, and in return, I took him in. I hid him in the basement, never revealing his existence to anyone.”
Okay, this guy is legitimately cuckoo. I rub my hands along the glass, looking for any crack I can mist out of, but it’s perfectly smooth.
“Over time we grew close,” Faustius continues. “I was the master and he was my pet. But things got out of hand. He would disappear often, and bad things began happening around town with greater frequency. I quickly realized he took joy in causing others misery. And as he grew bigger, his appetite for destruction grew larger. I didn’t know what to do. So, I prayed for a miracle. And one evening, it came. There was a knock at my door.”
Faustius picks up a scalpel. What’s that for?
“Van Helsing was a younger man back then,” he says, “he was carrying a knapsack and asked if he could come inside. He said he could help me with my problem. Of course, I had no other solution, so I let him in. We waited up all night until my creature returned home. Upon seeing it, Van Helsing wasted no time before destroying it with a silver arrow. To my surprise, he had concealed a crossbow in his knapsack, and in the blink of an eye my problem was solved. And my only friend in the world was gone.”
Wow, I can tell he’s still heartbroken over this.
“You know, I was in a similar situation once,” I say. “One of my foster families had a hamster, but it got free and we never saw it again. Guess who got blamed for that one.”
“Do not belittle me, child,” Faustius says, gripping the scalpel tightly. “I was furious. Van Helsing called my pet a ‘demon’ and demanded to know how it was conjured. That is when I showed him my book. Van Helsing was both surprised and impressed by my talent. He asked if I would be interested in becoming his apprentice at a special school he was building. I was shocked. Me? A poor boy joining a prestigious academy? I couldn’t believe it. Of course, I agreed at once, but I never forgave him for what he had done.”
I can see the anger seething in Faustius’ eyes.
“Van Helsing took me under his wing,” Faustius continues. “I helped him establish his academy and recruit his other professors. But as I grew older, I knew I had more to offer. I begged him to make me a professor, but he refused. He would not admit it, but I knew he was afraid of what I might teach the children. It wasn’t until I threatened to leave that he finally relented. I should h
ave been happy. After all, I had finally achieved my goal. But instead, I felt hollow. It was then I realized Van Helsing never respected me. Since the day we met, he kept me close not because he liked me, but because he wanted to keep an eye on me.”
I don’t blame him.
“And then one night,” Faustius says, “I had a dream. I realized I no longer needed to stand in Van Helsing’s shadow. If he could build a school, I could build an empire. If he could teach monsters to live in society, I could teach them to dominate society. My power was stifled under Van Helsing’s thumb. But to pull off my ambition, I needed operatives. So, I rekindled the Dark Ones right under Van Helsing’s nose.”
“You’re a maniac!” I say.
“Perhaps I am,” he says, approaching me, scalpel in hand. “Or perhaps I’m a visionary. When Van Helsing got wind of my plans, he forced me out of the academy. Fortunately, I escaped before he uncovered my true purpose—to capture Count Dracula’s spirit and bring him back to life.”
Spirit?
OMG! I almost forgot.
“Where’s Aura?” I demand. “What did you do with her.”
“Ah, your little ghost friend,” Faustius says with a wicked smile. “I’m afraid she has left us.”
“Left us?” I say. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s gone,” Faustius says. “She was a ghost, remember? Like all ghosts trapped on earth, she had a mission to complete. And now that her mission is done, her soul was released to the great beyond.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, totally confused. “What mission?”
“You are a naïve one, aren’t you?” Faustius says, now standing on the other side of the glass. “Her mission was simple—to bring you to me.”
“Liar!” I yell.
“I wish I were lying,” Faustius says. “But again, I will only tell you the truth. Your friend was merely a pawn in this game of monsters. You see, one day, while I was travelling in the city, I witnessed her unfortunate demise. It was a terrible accident; one she never saw coming. Nevertheless, I was able to capture her soul with a simple spell before it left.”
I shudder. Poor Aura.
“Through this spell I could control her actions,” Faustius continues. “Of course, she was none the wiser. I knew her powers may come in handy one day, perhaps as a spy, so I enrolled her in the academy. At the time I did not realize she would become such a valuable asset.”
Faustius twirls the scalpel in his fingers.
“But after several failed efforts to capture you directly,” he says, shooting annoyed looks at the werewolves. “I had to take a subtler approach. So, I used your ghost friend to lure you here.”
My mind races into overdrive. I mean, Aura was the one who led us to that cemetery with the grave robbers and werewolves in the first place. She also discovered Faustius’ book in Van Helsing’s library. And it was her idea to break into Faustius’ office. Could he be right? Was Faustius manipulating her the whole time?
Was this really the reason she was still stuck here? I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I mean, she was my friend. Maybe my best friend. And now… she’s gone.
“I hate you!” I scream.
“That’s sad,” Faustius says. “I was hoping we could work together.”
“Never!” I yell.
“Very well,” he says. “Have it your way.”
Then his mouth starts moving, but he’s speaking so low I can’t hear what he’s saying. His lips are forming the same patterns repeatedly, like he’s chanting. Then, I realize, he’s putting a spell on me!
Suddenly, my whole body tightens up.
I can’t move a muscle!
What’s happening?
“Struggling is futile,” he says, “I have employed a Curse of Immobility. You will be unable to move or use any vampire tricks. However, I have allowed you the ability to breathe, and to speak if you wish. In case you change your mind before it’s too late.”
“No way!” I yell.
This is ridiculous, my arms and legs are locked in place. I can’t move at all.
“There is no chance for escape now,” Faustius says. Then he snaps his fingers and my glass prison is gone! The werewolves grab my arms and lift me into the air.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I protest.
“Don’t worry,” Faustius says, “this part will be quick and relatively painless.”
I want to fight back, but I can only watch as the werewolves carry me towards the metal tables.
Strangely, Faustius is busy fitting a robe around the skeleton. “There, now you are dressed. That will save any embarrassment.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Preparing the bones,” Faustius says. “It’s the respectable thing to do after I reanimate them with Count Dracula’s spirit.”
Reanimate?
Wait a minute! He’s actually going to try this? But instead of using Count Dracula’s bones, he’s going to use the bones of these dead heroes. If he pulls this off, Count Dracula will be smarter and stronger than ever!
The werewolves lay me down on the empty table, shackling my wrists and ankles. Okay, I’ve seen enough horror movies to know where this is heading.
My heart is racing.
“Let me go!” I demand.
“Sorry, but no,” he says. “I’ve worked too hard to acquire you. You see, you play a pivotal role in my plans. Plans that begin right now.”
Faustius closes his eyes and begins chanting in a language I’ve never heard before. It’s another spell but based on his reddening complexion this one is taking a big toll on him.
I can’t understand what he’s saying, except for one word I keep hearing over and over again.
DRACUL.
Suddenly, there’s a loud CRASH overhead, and when I look up, I see shards of glass falling from above. There’s a giant hole in the domed ceiling, and cold air is flooding into the room.
But Faustius just keeps on chanting, his voice rising louder and louder.
Just then, a black mist swirls over my body, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on end.
“W-What’s that?” I ask.
But deep down, I know the answer.
The black cloud circulates throughout the room, leaving a trail of darkness in it’s wake. And as it passes over me again, I’m overcome by a wave of negativity.
“Yes!” Faustius screams, his eyes wide with delight. “He is here! The King of Darkness is finally here!”
The King of Darkness?
Dracula’s spirit is here!
But then I remember there’s no Blood Grail. When Aura told Dracula’s tale back in Professor Seward’s class, the Dark Ones needed the Blood Grail to restore him to life. But Faustius told me he’s still searching for it. So, I don’t know how he thinks he’s gonna pull this off.
“These are great parlor tricks,” I say, “but let’s face it, you still haven’t found the Blood Grail. So why don’t we stop this whole thing before somebody loses an eye.”
Suddenly, Faustius stands over me, scalpel in hand.
“I’m afraid you couldn’t be more wrong,” he says. “My quest for the Blood Grail has finally ended.”
Then, I notice he’s holding a golden chalice!
Oh no. It can’t be.
“I-Is that the Blood Grail?” I stammer.
“No,” he says, laughing. “This is merely a cup.”
“So, you don’t have it!” I say relieved.
“You still don’t understand, do you?” Faustius says. “You are the last of the vampires. Dracula’s Supernatural blood is flowing through your veins. Bram, the Blood Grail is you.”
COUNT DOWN
My mind is blown.
Faustius just told me I’m the Blood Grail!
What?
At first, I think he’s nuts. But the more I think about it, the more it makes perfect sense. After all, I’m supposedly the only living ancestor of Count Dracula. So, if Faustius needs Count Dracula’s
Supernatural blood to bring him back to life, there’s only one place to get it from.
Me!
Suddenly, everything that’s happened becomes crystal clear. Now I understand why those werewolves wanted me. Faustius sent them to capture me alive so he could get my blood. When that failed—twice—he manipulated Aura to find his cursed book and teleport me into his lab. I’ve got to hand it to him, he’s persistent.
But apparently that’s not all he’s been up to.
Faustius was also the one who sent the zombies to rob those graves. And if his master plan comes to fruition, he’ll stick Dracula’s spirit into their bones and take over the world!
Now, if I wasn’t watching Dracula’s spirit ping-ponging around the room, I’d say the whole thing was impossible. But this looks like it’s about to go down!
Faustius lifts my arm and positions the chalice beneath it. Then, he raises his scalpel.
Holy cow!
He’s really going do it!
He’s going to cut me!
I feel like I’m about to pass out, but I can’t. I’ve got to stop him before it’s too late!
“Listen, Faustius,” I plead. “Think this through. Is this really a good idea? Let’s just say your theory is correct and I am the Blood Grail. If you bring Count Dracula back to life do you really think you can control him? I mean, he’s Count. Freaking. Dracula. You know, the King of Darkness. Do you really think he’s going to listen to you?”
“A valiant attempt,” Faustius says. “But I am not worried. I can control Dracula.”
“Ha!” I blurt out. “Just like you controlled that demon you needed Van Helsing’s help to destroy?”
“Enough!” he says, enraged. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Without me, Dracula would remain an amorphous spirit. I will control him, and he will do my bidding!”
SLASH!
Ahhh!
My right arm is on fire!
I look down and see a gash on my forearm. There’s red liquid on Faustius’ scalpel.
H-He cut me!
“Finally!” Faustius says, holding up my arm. “The sweet elixir I’ve been seeking.”