The Eve of the Dragon

by Michael Dunn

  “How do you feel?” The lovely witch gently stroked his cheek with her finger.

  “I don’t know, great. It feels…. It feels like, a saline IV into the veins — flushed, refreshed, warm, and cool simultaneously, but then euphoric. I feel stronger and giddy. The world appeared a little different, but I know it didn’t change, I have. Has it always been there, but I was too blind to see?”

  She giggled watching his boyish expressions at the first glimpse into her world.

  John noticed his surprise erection, the type he thought ended after high school. She giggled. He playfully lunged for her and she giggled harder. Things got heavy after that.

  After some heavy petting, she stopped and said, "You really should meditate the way I told you to.”

  “How about once more? I heard sex magic is powerful. Now, where did I hear that?”

  Teresa giggled. “You gave me some magic. Let me give you something back.”

  The dull voice of his conscience was now louder. John believed it was the influence of Teresa’s magical boost.

  He took off his silver necklace and handed it to her.

  “Why are you giving me this, John?” Teresa asked. She smirked because she knew the answer.

  “The voice in my head, the one I call my conscience I guess became louder than usual. It told me in order for the exchange to work; I needed to give you something that is precious to me. This necklace belonged to my sister who died of leukemia when I was a child. I loved her very much and I miss her. She helped me become a doctor and a writer.”

  John wiped a tear.

  Teresa gasped. “I had no idea what this meant to you and how dear it is to you.” She teared up. “I shall wear it underneath the necklace I have to wear tonight, part of my costume, you could say. It shall provide me protection when I am vulnerable.”

  “I’m guessing the louder guiding voice in my head is from your influence.”

  “It is part of your brand new world.”

  She leaned forward, kissed him, and the dress came off.

  *

  After making love, Teresa seemed exhausted. John had never seen her except radiant. She slipped her dress back on. She picked up her bag and stumbled a couple steps. She appeared older than when she had walked into the room.

  “You have worn me out.” Teresa said and yawned. “I must rest to get stronger before evening.”

  John smiled, but thought, She needs rest before evening and she will be stronger in the evening? She also gave me some of her blood and now, I suddenly feel stronger. Hmm…

  “You need to meditate and do as I showed you.”

  “I will,” John sat up in lotus position, closed his eyes, and let go. He had meditated before and found it relaxing if a bit dull. He did not continue the practice. Under the influence of Teresa, meditate became exciting and easy. It felt like a drug trip and here, instead of counting his breaths to stay focused, John had to stay present and focused to control the roller coaster his mind was riding. He understood now what Teresa had meant when she explained, “You need to focus on your concentration.” It sounded like rhetorical nonsense, but it was true. He needed to spend the next several hours like this to save Teresa and himself tonight. This would be harder than he thought.

  *

  Steven believed there was something similar to LSD in the concoction Teresa gave them. Years ago, Steven had tried LSD a time or two as an undergraduate and he enjoyed the experiences. He did not want to use LSD too often, because he had seen what had happens when it became a habit. Steven relaxed and enjoyed the ride inside his mind.

  At first, it was colors and music flowing through him. Steven felt he was part of the universe, a small part, but an integral part. His trip across the universe halted when he found himself back on Earth. He found himself on a warm summer day across the street from a busy park. His mother sat on a bench in the park. She waved. Steven’s mouth dropped.

  “Mom?”

  She seemed as Steven remembered before cancer ate her alive.

  The Nikes Steven had worn in high school were covered his feet. He gaped at his reflection in a storefront window. His appearance was the same as it was fifteen years ago, complete with acne and his hated spectacles. Steven practically demanded laser eye surgery as a graduation present.

  Steven ran across the street, weaving through traffic, to see his mother. His mother stood and embraced her son. He cried.

  “I’ve missed you so much, mom.”

  “I’ve missed you too. Please, let’s sit down.”

  They sat on the bench.

  “Well, I passed my surgical boards.”

  “I know. I watched you every step of the way. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Now, I am on this weird vacation that involves gangsters, wizards, witches, a dragon, a demon, a magic rock, possibly vampires.”

  His mother chuckled. “A whole new world you never imagined. Scary isn’t it? Away from your known world of hospitals and classrooms?”

  “Mom, they told me I would die tonight by a vampiric-lady or a witch unless I meditate and learn magic. Is that why you are here today? Because I’m going to die tonight?”

  “No, honey, I came to warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “First, I am proud that you became a doctor, but there is more awaiting you.”

  “Yeah, that was hard.”

  “That mindset has made you miserable, making it difficult for you to connect with other people. You must learn to open your heart.”

  “You’re the second person to tell me that today. Wait, you said, ‘First.’ What’s the second?”

  “The Beast is watching you.”

  Steven shuddered. He had dreamed about the beast before they left.

  “What? The beach bum told me that before he threw sand into my face. Why is the Beast watching me?”

  “It has your number, sweetheart. It wants you more than your friends. See.” His mom pointed across the street. There was a large, blue demon with red triangular eyes. Steven gasped.

  It was the one from his dreams.

  “What does it want from me, mom?” Steven screamed.

  When he turned, his mother was gone, but Momowango was still across the street, smiling.

  Steven opened his eyes and pulled out of the trance. Momowango was no longer in the room with him, but neither was his mother. The visit was too brief. He missed his mom.

  “That was a helluva trip,” Steven whispered. He opened his eye and saw Dan seated in lotus position across the room, motionless. Steven imagined Dan would be fidgety and bored. Instead, Dan was a statue. He was not sleeping, but breathing slowly.

  “Wow,” Steven whispered to himself. “What did that stone do to you?”

  *

  In the interim hours before dinner, Teresa confined Steven and Dan to the guest bedroom, which suited them fine as they meditated and prepared for the evening. Steven tried to meditate more, but could not focus enough to stick with it. He was afraid he might see the beast watching him. Dan remained as still as before.

  The maid, whom Dan had earlier dubbed, Irona, brought them formal evening wear for the night’s activities and left.

  Not much later, Bernardo entered the guest room to inform them, “Dinner… will be served… in an hour. Prepare yourselves.” He shut the door behind him.

  When he closed the door, Dan opened his eyes, stood up, and stretched. “That was relaxing. Man, I feel so much better. How was your meditation?”

  “Illuminating,” Steven answered.

  Dan saw the evening wear the staff left for him and changed his clothes.

  The door opened and Steven and Dan expected the large, dumb servant, but it was John who opened the doorway, ready for a formal dinner.

  “Where have you been?” Steven asked.

  “Meditating and sleeping. Did you guys do what she said?”

  “Yes, but…” Steven began, but John cut him off.

  “She was not kidding. We have been t
he bait for this trap since we landed in Italy.”

  “Why us?”

  “It was me,” Dan said, tying his black bow tie. “They needed a new plastic surgeon because their regular on-call plastic surgeon ended up dangling from a hotel closet like David Carradine in Bangkok. They needed a foreign doctor who had no idea what is happening here.”

  “Why you and not John?” Steven asked.

  “Besides the obvious,” John said and glanced at Dan. “Teresa told me someone had told her of a prophecy that I was to meet her… and I did.”

  “You believe that?” Steven asked.

  “Instead of a sunny vacation on the beach, we became involved in gangsters, dragons, and magic rocks, so yeah, I do.”

  Steven nodded.

  “The dinner is just the beginning,” John explained. “We have a long night ahead of us and we need to stick together if we are going to survive.”

  “Survive?”

  John nodded. “The Eve of the Dragon is beginning.”

  Chapter Nineteen: Dinner with the Count

  Minutes later, Bernardo opened the door. “Dinner is... prepared. The master… will see you now. Follow me.”

  Bernardo led them down a long, narrow hallway through the grand old home, which was more like a museum, and into an ancient dining room with old flags dangling from the ceiling.

  Dan whispered to Steven, “Do you think Bernardo and the other servants are recycled people? You know, like in Universal Soldier; that shitty movie but great premise?”

  Steven put a finger to his lips and said, “Shh!”

  A long, elaborate dining table, designed to seat a large dinner party, awaited them. The Count and Contessa sat at the head of the long, ancient banquet table.

  Bernardo stepped forward and said, “Master, your guests.”

  The Count and Contessa rose.

  “Thank you, Bernardo. Bring them forth.”

  Bernardo bowed his head slightly and proceeded toward the head of the table where the Count and Contessa stood.

  The Count said, “Thank you, Bernardo.” The Contessa said. “I shall take it from here.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Go help in the kitchen.”

  Bernardo grunted and left the dinner.

  “My husband,” Teresa said, standing in front of the three foreign guests. “These are the three American doctors who will be our guests this evening and witness the Ritual of Alhambra.”

  The Count walked toward them. He possessed an air of old-world aristocracy and royalty. He dressed in a tuxedo, and his wife wore in an elegant and expensive red dress, which matched her pouty, pillowy lips.

  Teresa made the introductions, “Your Highness, let me introduce you to our guests this evening. All of them are surgeons from America. This is Dr. John Miller.”

  “Your Highness, pleasure to meet you,” John said. He dipped his head in a bow and shook the man’s hand. It was a strong, but icy grip.

  “This is Dr. Steven Pierce.”

  “Your Highness,” Steven said, nodded, and shook his hand. The handshake was brief, but powerful, and Steven winced.

  “And this is Dr. Dan Carter.”

  “Nice to meet you, your Highness. I love all your movies, but not the ones where they made your kind palatable for the Tiger Beat crowd.”

  The Count asked his wife in Italian, “What does he say?”

  Teresa shook her head and told her husband in Italian, “No one knows. His friends say this one is insane.”

  The Count nodded.

  He said to his wife in Italian, “You have chosen well. The healthy, young men will make fine sacrifices to Momowango.”

  Teresa forced a smile and said, “Gratzie mi amor.”

  He said in English, “Would you all like a drink?”

  Dan opened his mouth to say something when Steven stomped on his foot.

  Steven said, “Yes, a drink would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  The Count called for the maid.

  The Count said, “Please, let’s sit down and talk until our dinner arrives.”

  Teresa said to the doctors, “I will quickly tell my husband in Italian how you came to be our guests this evening. It will be easier for him to understand.

  Before the doctors nodded, Teresa spoke to her husband in Italian. Occasionally, the Count would glance over at these guests and back to his wife. Occasionally, the Count said, “Hmm,” then nod as his wife continued.

  “I see,” the Count said in English when his wife ended their story.

  The Count chuckled. “It seems you have had quite the adventure since you have come to my country.”

  The three doctors nodded.

  The drinks arrived. Steven had an old-fashioned. John had a vodka martini. Dan had a cosmopolitan. The Count and Contessa drank red wine. Dan kept his hand on the gun in his pants. Servants brought out their dinner on silver platters covered by a cloche. The servants hovered with his or her hand on the handle of the cloche until time to reveal the dinner.

  Each doctor took a deep breath and held it, not knowing what to expect. Steven had the knife he had stolen from the armory. John held onto his spiked brass knuckles and slipped them on under the table. Dan slowly slid the gun out of his pants. He had learned that he was not exactly a good shot, but he was capable enough to make his targets hurt until they escaped.

  The Count nodded, and the servants lifted the cloches. The doctors gasped until they saw plates of Mediterranean chicken dinners. The closest thing that resembled blood was the marinara sauce.

  Alarmed, the Count asked, “I hope they prepared everything to your liking. Is something wrong?”

  The doctors exhaled and relaxed.

  “I am terribly sorry about this, your Highness,” John explained and slightly giggling. “We were, um, gravely mistaken.”

  “Gravely,” Dan said and chuckled. “Good one.”

  “Mistaken about what?” Contessa Teresa asked.

  “We thought you were vampires,” Steven said embarrassed, but laughing.

  Everyone at the table laughed too.

  “Why on earth would you think that, my boy?” The Count asked, still laughing.

  John explained, “We have only seen Teresa at night, or what we thought was night. She told us we would see you and her only this evening.”

  “And let’s not forget the obvious,” Dan said. “You’re a Count who lives in an old castle and your servants are more than a little creepy.”

  The dinner party laughed again.

  “What were you expecting for dinner?” The Count asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dan said. “A fresh human head, maybe?”

  They laughed some more.

  Teresa said, “We thought you might have figured it out by now.” She took a sip of her wine. “We’re not vampires. We’re wizards and witches.”

  They laughed some more until the American doctors realized what their hosts had said.

  Steven asked, “What is the deal with your servants?”

  “What do you mean?” The Count asked.

  “They act like reanimated corpses with Borg-like, er, I mean, Frankenstein monster-like implants on their temples,” Dan said.

  “That’s because they are,” The Count said, while continuing to eat. “They were men and women who died without family. We bought them from the state. They were cheaper by the dozen.”

  “How, um…” Steven asked. “How were you able to reanimate the dead bodies?”

  The Count shrugged and said, almost dismissively, “We used a combination of electronics and spells. We have not quite perfected it, but we are on the right track, as you Americans say.”

  The Count ate in silence for a few moments before mentioning, “I have also heard that there was some excitement today on the balcony.”

  “What do you mean?” Steven asked.

  “I mean, there is a dead gangster in my freezer. How did that happen?”

  “Oh, um, that was me,” Dan said, raising his hand. “
I had to kill him. He was a cockroach. I was an exterminator.”

  “I understand. He came here to do you and those in this house harm, and you stood up to protect them. I admire that and thank you for that. Those people, those filthy animals disguised as people are detestable. However, I am ashamed to admit I have needed dealings with those people on occasion. It is my fault you doctors are here today. I hired them to retrieve the Orb of Genoa for me. I had no idea of the depths of depravity to which they would sink to get it. Imagine kidnapping and forcing a surgeon to use his skills at gunpoint. I am sorry you had to experience that, Dr. Carter. Perhaps you did the world a favor by ending the life of this hired killer.”

  Dan forced a smile, but he did not believe a word the Count said. He believed the Count wanted that emerald by any means necessary no matter how many people got hurt in the process.

  “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Steven asked.

  “In my childhood, Italy was not yet a united nation. You see, Italy, as a nation, is younger than the United States, even though this was the site of the Roman Empire. Few people know that.”

  “How do you…” Steven started and considered his words carefully. “How did you survive for so long?”

  The Count said, “Magic. We studied, learned, suffered, and practiced our art, part of which allowed us to live much longer lives.”

  “Oh, wow, our hospital would love to know how you…”

  “Take my wife, for instance… please,” the Count said, and laughed at his own ancient joke. No one else did. He laughed some more and pounded his fists on the table. Teresa glanced at him.

  “My wife does not look her age at all.”

  Teresa stabbed her fork into the table. She glared at him with one of her scary death stares. He ignored her and continued.

  “When my wife was a little girl, Mussolini ruled Italy and Italians were becoming cozy with the Germans.”

  “But that was eighty-something years ago,” Steven said, realizing he should not have spoken.

  Teresa seethed from her embarrassment, more determined to kill her husband than before.

  “Yes, it was eighty-something years ago and my wife has aged only slightly since the Germans surrendered and the United States irradiated the Japanese.”