VROLOK

by Nolene-Patricia Dougan

  Vlad had watched the whole incident. He had kept quiet and out of sight. He wanted to see if Isabella could look after herself and how strong she was; he was not disappointed in her.

  Isabella left the body and slowly walked up towards the castle. She should have gone home but something urged her to continue to her planned destination.

  Dracula went over to Peter’s body and drained whatever blood was left. He then raced up to the castle so that he would get there before Isabella.

  Isabella knocked on the door and Vlad opened it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her, mocking concern.

  “I was attacked,” Isabella, said, gasping for air, “Attacked, who attacked you?”

  “I think his name was Peter.”

  “Was?”

  “He’s dead. I killed him.” Her words were not laced with any sign of remorse.

  “You killed him?”

  “Yes.”

  “You murdered him? You ended the life of a human being?” Dracula said, trying to act self-righteous.

  “Yes I have and I will end another human being’s life by the end of the day.” Isabella said with venom.

  “Does this walking corpse have a name?”

  “Natasha. She’s my half-sister. She told Peter to kill me!” Vlad turned from Isabella and smiled to himself. He liked this woman. Then he faced her again with a look of feigned concern, “I’ll walk you back to the village.”

  “All right.”

  The pair walked down through the forest together. Vlad brushed past a thorn bush and cut his hand. Isabella lifted his hand to her lips and sucked the excess blood from his fingers. Dracula pulled away.

  “You have to get rid of the poison,” Isabella said.

  Vlad laughed and replied, “Don’t worry. I will not die from a prick from a thorn.”

  “We’re getting close to my home. My husband does not know that I go up to the castle. You can’t come with me any further.”

  “What sort of a man have you married, Isabella?”

  Isabella hesitated and said, “A good man.”

  “Oh, I am sure…a good and righteous man. That doesn’t suit you, Isabella.”

  “What would you know about what suits me and what doesn’t?”

  “I know you better now than your good husband ever will. You may be good on occasion and do the right thing, but it’s only because people around you influence you. It is not your natural instinct. No matter how hard you try, you will never be righteous. Think about it, Isabella, you are already lying to him. You would rather keep him in the dark than let him think badly of you. You sometimes even go as far as resenting him for his good nature.”

  “That is not true,” Isabella lied.

  “Is it not? Let me ask you this, are you going to tell him about your intention to kill your sister, or that you have just killed Peter? He’ll only stop you, won’t he?”

  Isabella stood silently. She knew he was right.

  “Yes, I can picture him now,” said Vlad. “He’ll be handsome, someone you have known since you were a child and the only reason you married him was because all the other woman of the village wanted him.”

  Isabella threw out her arms to strike at Vlad. She wanted to silence him, but Vlad quickly restrained her before she had the chance.

  “Have I struck a nerve?” Vlad said. “Oh, I see, your sister wanted him for herself. Is that why you hate each other so much? What happens when you get older and you lose your attraction for him? Will you still love him for his good nature?” Isabella tried to lash out with her feet but Vlad tripped her up.

  She stood back up immediately and answered him, “Everyone gets old. You, too, will lose your beauty and unlike Nicolae you will have nothing to offer me or any woman when that happens. You know nothing about me. I love my husband and as long as I live we will be together.”

  “Then you’ll never be together again!” Vlad clasped his fingers around Isabella’s throat and started to drain the life’s blood from her.

  Isabella could not feel anything, not even pain, yet she knew enough to know that what was happening to her was not right.

  Vlad let go before she was dead—this was something he had never done before.

  Isabella dropped to the ground and frantically rubbed her neck and then lifted her hand in front of her face. There was blood on her fingertips.

  “Vrolok,” she whispered.

  Dracula left her there to die.

  After he was out of sight Isabella pulled herself up onto her feet and staggered home. She entered her bedroom where her husband was sleeping and fell forward, landing on top of Nicolae, waking him. “Nicolae, the baby,” she gasped and then passed out.

  Nicolae laid her down on the bed before running to fetch Katya and the midwife. When he returned, Isabella was still unconscious.

  Isabella’s baby was born soon after. It was a boy. Isabella never regained consciousness.

  “I’m glad it’s a boy,” the midwife said. “It’ll break the chain. Her mother and grandmother both died in childbirth.”

  Nicolae looked up at the midwife. “What do you mean?” he said.

  “I’m sorry, Nicolae, your wife is dead,” the midwife answered.

  Nicolae shook his head. “No. Isabella’s strong; she’s not like her mother. She’s not like her mother,” he repeated. “She’s strong!” he said again, louder. “She’ll never leave me alone!” he shouted as he ran over to his dead wife. He pulled her body close to him and started to rock her back and forth.

  Katya, who was as grief stricken as Nicolae, lifted the baby and took him over to his father. “Look what she has left you, Nicolae.”

  Nicolae looked at the child and cursed. “Take that thing away from me,” he said. “It killed my wife.”

  DRACULA

  DEVIL

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Isabella awoke. She was lying in complete darkness, but for reasons that she did not understand she could see perfectly well. From the moment she opened her eyes she realised she was lying in her own coffin. She panicked and pushed up on the lid; it opened and slid off easily.

  She sat up and looked around her, disoriented. She realised that she was sitting in her bedroom. There were candles burning and petals scattered all around the room. Isabella did not notice these decorations in her mind’s eye. Her attention was immediately drawn to her bedroom mirror. She could see the reflection of the coffin that she was sitting in but she could not see her own reflection.

  Isabella got out of the coffin and approached the mirror. She lifted a flower and waved it slowly in front of her. The reflection of the flower in the mirror looked as if it was floating in midair. For the first time in Isabella’s existence she was frightened. A growing feeling of bewilderment came over her. Questions raced through her mind. What had happened to her? What was wrong with her? She seized the mirror and smashed it.

  Katya who was in the next room heard the clatter and came running into the room to see what had happened. On seeing Isabella was alive she was overjoyed.

  “Isabella you’re alive, I can’t believe it,” Katya exclaimed. She rushed over towards Isabella with the intention of embracing her friend. Isabella who was sitting in a heap on the floor pulled back from Katya and warned her.

  “Get away from me…there’s something wrong with me…I feel different…I am different.”

  “You’ve been very ill. Of course you don’t feel right. Oh, Isabella,” Katya continued, “Nicolae will be home soon, and he will be so happy. He has been devastated.”

  “You’re not to tell Nicolae anything yet!” Isabella commanded. “At least until I know what is wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Katya said to comfort her friend, but Isabella lifted up part of the mirror and held it out in front of her face.

  “Look! I don’t have a reflection!” Katya looked at her friend in astonishment. Then she remembered the coffin.

  “Isabella! How did you get out of the coffi
n?” Katya asked. Isabella glanced up inquisitively at her friend.

  “What’d you mean? I just lifted the lid.”

  “The lid was nailed down,” Katya said. “Nicolae did not want to see you. You couldn’t have just opened it.”

  Isabella looked down at the lid. The nails were sticking out through the wood. She had hardly applied any pressure to the coffin lid; it had just smoothly slid open. She managed to control her emotions, even though she was desperately frightened. The only visible sign of her consternation was that she was rubbing her hand up against the side of her forehead slowly, but forcibly. She just sat there trying to figure out what to do.

  “Where’s Nicolae?” Isabella asked; she was now filled with a sense of urgency.

  “I don’t know. He went for a walk. He has been acting so strangely since you…since it happened.”

  “He can’t see me like this, not yet. You have to nail me back in,” Isabella said, now calmly determined.

  “Isabella, you‘ll suffocate! Your funeral is tomorrow.”

  “Do what I say, Katya. Then tomorrow after I’m buried come back and dig me up.”

  “You could really die!” said Katya, making one final attempt to protest, but Isabella was determined.

  “I think it is too late for that. I think I’m dead already.” Isabella got back into the coffin and Katya nailed down the lid. Isabella began her sleep.

  She was awakened once again by whispers in her bedroom.

  “Nicolae.” It was Natasha.

  Isabella wanted to burst out of the casket that was imprisoning her and confront her sister, but she held back and just listened to what her sister was saying.

  “I’m so sorry, Nicolae.”

  Nicolae remained silent. The silence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Isabella heard Nicolae go to the door to see who it was. Isabella could hear a faint whispering emanating from Natasha. She knew she was not speaking aloud but yet Isabella could hear her. Isabella soon realised she was listening to her sister’s thoughts.

  “If I had known you’d be good enough to die in childbirth, I would not have gone to so much trouble,” Natasha thought.

  Isabella was furious at her sister’s indignity. Whatever happened, she promised herself, she would pay her sister back for her enmity.

  Isabella fell asleep again. When she awoke she was underneath the ground. She could not lift the lid so easily this time. She became frightened for the second time in her existence. All she could think of was getting out, getting free of her grave. Isabella closed her eyes, her only thought being that she had to get out. Then a strange feeling came over her. It started as a tingling sensation. Then her whole body felt light and weightless; she felt herself seeping up through the cracks in the coffin and then up through the earth.

  Isabella had changed form; she had become a vapour and was seeping up through the ground. When she was above the earth, her body formed itself again. When Katya arrived, Isabella was sitting on the ground above her grave.

  Katya had brought a blanket and a shovel with her. She placed the blanket around Isabella’s shoulders and dropped the shovel on the ground. Katya sat down beside her friend holding her, but one question was racing through her mind that she had to ask.

  “How did you get out?” Katya asked.

  “I don’t know…all I know is I wanted to get out. I felt myself rising up through the earth and next thing I know, I am sitting here…I don’t know what’s happening to me. Am I a ghost?” Isabella cried out.

  “No you’re not a ghost Isabella. You’re flesh and blood. I can feel you, touch you….”

  Katya, while still sitting with both her arms wrapped around her friend trying to comfort her, noticed something else. “Isabella…” she said.

  Isabella looked around.

  “The scar on your shoulder—it has gone,” Katya continued, as Isabella examined her shoulder. The scar had indeed vanished. There was no trace of it.

  “Oh, God, Katya, what am I…something worse than a ghost?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, Isabella. You’re alive…it’s a blessing.” Katya’s words were hesitant and lacked conviction. Isabella laughed quietly at her friend and raised her face so that she was looking up at Katya.

  “This is no blessing and you know it is not…people who are alive don’t rise up from their own graves,” Isabella said, nervously laughing as she spoke. “And people who are alive have reflections.” Isabella looked at her left hand where her wedding ring used to be. She had left the ring along with her clothes in her coffin. As she was rubbing her ring finger, desperately wishing her ring back on her finger, she noticed that her hands were starting to shake—gently at first and then violently. The shaking then spread up through her arms, her back started to seize, her body fell forward; she was forced to lie down as her whole body started to convulse uncontrollably.

  “Isabella! What’s wrong with you?” cried Katya.

  “I don’t know…I’m starving…I need something…to eat.”

  At that moment Natasha, who had been walking towards Nicolae’s house, saw her sister. She was shocked and maddened to see Isabella alive and frantically ran towards her. Natasha grabbed the shovel that Katya had brought and swung around, smashing the back of her sister’s head with it. Natasha had used all of her strength to hit her sister, but she might as well have tapped her with a feather. The forceful impact had not even broken her skin.

  Isabella found the strength to control her convulsions and stood, slowly and steadily. She turned to face her sister. Natasha was suddenly terrified. She dropped the shovel and turned to run, but Isabella was too quick for her. Isabella reached out and grabbed her sister’s arm, pulling it out of its socket. Natasha yelled out in agony just as Isabella reached up and slashed Natasha’s throat with her nails, silencing her sister’s screams.

  Blood poured from the open wound on Natasha’s neck. Natasha looked down and saw the blood seeping from her own neck. She put up her hands to her throat, trying desperately to hold in the blood in a futile attempt to hang on to her young life. Isabella pulled away her sister’s hands and she drank. Natasha feebly struck Isabella, trying to beat her back, but it was useless. Natasha’s arms finally fell limply to her sides, her eyes flickered one final time and then her eyes shut, never to open again.

  “Isabella!” Katya screamed out, staring at her childhood friend, unable to lift her eyes from the abhorrent scene she had witnessed. “What are you doing?”

  Isabella turned towards Katya, blood dripping from her mouth. She looked at her friend malignantly. She licked the blood slowly from her hand and wrist. “I feel better now,” she whispered.

  Katya was repulsed by Isabella’s actions. She ran from her friend. For not only did she find what she had witnessed repugnant, she was frightened of Isabella and what she had become.

  When Isabella saw Katya run from her it forced her to return to reason. The blood lust that she had experienced left her. She looked down at the body of her dead sister. Isabella did not care that she had killed her. The fact that Natasha was dead did not bother her. It was the way in which she had killed her sister that frightened Isabella. When she had seen the blood she could not control her desire. It had felt as if her very existence depended on her drinking it. And when she had drunk her sister’s blood, a rush of energy surged through her; she felt revitalised. She could feel her own blood starting to pump through her veins. She felt as if she could do anything, see anything, hear anything. She felt alive, and a feeling of total satisfaction was upon her. It was the greatest sensation she had ever experienced. It was something she had never even come close to feeling before and she knew from that moment that she could not live without experiencing it again.

  Then Isabella dropped to the ground and wept, for the euphoric feeling that she had received from her sister’s blood had left completely. She held her face in her hands. Tears trickled down through her fingers. She wiped her eyes and then wiped her hands on the blanket that K
atya had brought for her. Isabella noticed a red stain where she had wiped her hands. She wondered where it had come from.

  She held her hands in front of her face: they were covered in blood. At first she thought it was her sister’s blood but then a single red tear fell on to her pale white leg. Isabella realised that the blood was coming from her eyes. She began sobbing uncontrollably and started violently rubbing her eyes. The more she cried, the more blood poured from her eyes. Her eyes weren’t bleeding. She was weeping tears of blood. Isabella could not stand this any more; it was just another sign of her malignancy. She looked up to the skies and called out in despair.

  “Who has done this to me?” Her gaze dropped down and there in her line of sight was the castle. “Vlad,” she whispered.

  Isabella leaped to her feet and sprinted towards the castle. She did not notice how fast she was running, that every step was a leap. She made it up to the castle gate in seconds. She threw open the inner door to the castle. Vlad was sitting in the chair beside the fire when he heard the door burst open. He jumped out of his seat. He looked absolutely amazed to see her.

  “What did you do to me?” she screamed.

  Vlad could not believe his own eyes. “I don’t know…I thought I had killed you.”

  “You did something worse than kill me…look at my eyes!”

  Vlad looked at the bloody tears. “You’re a Vampire,” he whispered in amazement.

  This stunned Isabella.

  “Vrolok? I couldn’t be! I’m human…you did this to me!” Isabella pointed at Vlad stabbing the air with her fingers. “You did this to me!” she repeated. Isabella turned and ran back out through the castle door.

  Vlad chased after her. “Isabella,” he called after her. “You can’t go back to the village. You’re not one of them anymore. They will despise you for what you have become. They’re better off thinking you are dead.”

  Isabella tried to ignore Vlad’s words but she remembered how Katya had looked at her when she killed her sister. She knew he was right and yet her feet still carried her home. She would try to explain to Katya, at least. She would try to explain that she could not have helped what had happened to her.