She sat quietly on the bed beside Nicolae, not wanting to wake her son. She looked at her husband. His swarthy skin had paled through the years. It had lost its smoothness. The red traces in his hair had been replaced by grey. He opened eyes briefly but it was too quick and he was in too much pain to register anything that was in the room. It was enough time, however, for Isabella to see that his eyes had lost their brightness. He was only a semblance of the man she had once known and adored. Isabella closed her eyes and imagined him as he once was. She leaned into kiss him and Nicolae was awakened by her touch. He opened his eyes to see his wife just as beautiful as she ever was.
“Is my life over?” Nicolae asked, thinking he was delirious.
“Not yet. Are you in any pain?” Isabella answered.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Would you like me to end your life in a way that will not cause you any more pain?”
“Yes,” he answered again.
The tears flowed from Isabella’s eyes as she leaned over and kissed her husband on the neck, draining the last of his energy. Isabella’s tears fell on her dying husband’s lips and into his mouth. Nicolae lay silent. He looked peaceful as he was slowly slipping away. Isabella could not contain her grief the tears flowed and continued to fall into her husband’s open mouth.
Nicolae’s eyes suddenly opened. He looked as if he was regaining his strength. Isabella was awestruck. She did not understand, and then she remembered events of the day that she had become a Vampire. The reason why she was different and had become what she became instead of dying like all the rest. She had drunk Vlad’s blood! When he had pierced his finger on the thorn she had tried to drain the poison by sucking the blood from his finger. Isabella slit open her own lips with her fingernail and leaned into kiss her husband.
Nicolae’s skin became smoother and his eyes started to brighten. The grey hair began to disappear, replaced by the thick red hair he had once had. Nicolae’s hunger for Isabella’s blood was great, so much so that Isabella started to feel herself weakening and pulled back from him. In the few seconds that Nicolae was drinking from her she had aged ten years. Her husband was now fully restored to his former self. He stood up and looked at Isabella.
“Is this heaven?” he asked his wife.
“Not quite,” Isabella answered. Katya now entered the room she looked at the two unholy creatures and crossed herself.
“Isabella,” she murmured, “what have you done?” At this point Nicolae began to convulse with pain and he called out for Isabella to comfort him. His anguished cries woke their son.
“Why am I in pain?” Nicolae said to Isabella.
“You have to feed,” she answered.
“Feed on what?”
“Blood.”
Their son, now fully awake, jumped up and ran to embrace his father. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he was glad to see his father alive. Nicolae was confused and disoriented and was still in torturous pain. All he could see was the bulging vain on his own son’s neck. He grabbed his son and driven by his blood lust, drank until his son was dead.
Katya was horrified as she tried to pull Nicolae away from his son, but she was not strong enough. Isabella was stunned. She could not move.
Everything seemed so surreal to Nicolae, but as his blood lust diminished the harshness of reality was slowly starting to return. He looked down and saw his dead son on the ground at his feet.
Isabella looked at the body and then looked up at her husband.
“You have killed your own son!” Katya said, looking at Isabella as she spoke. She considered Nicolae almost blameless for the death of their child.
“I can save him,” countered Isabella.
“You can’t save anyone!” Katya said, reviling her. “You’ve condemned your husband. Are you going to condemn your son as well?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Nicolae shouted, interrupting the women. Blood was flowing from his eyes and staining the shirt of his dead son. “What’s wrong with Alexei?” he asked nervously, his voice quivering with fear.
“He’s dead,” Katya answered. “You killed him.”
“How can that be true?” Nicolae said in disbelief.
“It is true, Nicolae, you have killed your own son,” Katya responded, without compassion.
“Why would I do such a thing?” he said as tears began to flow from his eyes. “And why are my eyes bleeding?” Nicolae asked frantically.
“Ask your wife,” Katya solemnly answered. Nicolae looked up at his wife. A single crimson tear was trickling down her ivory cheek.
“Why are your eyes bleeding?” Memories came suddenly flooding back into Nicolae’s mind, memories he had blocked out since he was a child. He looked up at Isabella. “I remember what happened to my parents,” he said.
Isabella shuddered and took a step back from her husband. She knew what he was about to say.
“It was dark,” Nicolae continued. “My parents were lying next to each other. I saw a man leaning over them. He was biting at their flesh. The colour was slowly draining from their faces. I yelled out to them and the creature looked over towards me. His mouth was covered in blood. I ran as fast as I could from this abomination and then I fell and bumped my head and the next thing I saw was you, lying asleep in a chair beside me. I thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world, but now when I look at you, you seem repugnant to me. You’ve turned me into the creature that killed my parents. You’ve made me kill my own son. Your father was right—it would have been better if your mother had lived and you had died. Everything you have touched in your life you have poisoned! I am amazed I ever loved you.”
Isabella stood there stunned by his words. She could not move. She would have loved this man forever, but what she had become disgusted him and Isabella did not understand this.
“I want this to end now,” Nicolae said to Katya.
“It can’t end. You’re immortal,” Isabella said. She stretched out her hand. “Come with me, Nicolae. You couldn’t mean the words you speak.”
“I do! It can end now and it will. Katya, fetch Alexei’s sword.” Katya did as Nicolae asked. Nicolae kneeled down and Katya swung the sword at his neck. It sliced straight through. His head fell to the floor. Katya was oblivious to it but Isabella sensed an aura of peace emanating from Nicolae’s body. It was a feeling that ran through her and it comforted her slightly. She felt that Nicolae was at peace and it was a peace she longed for.
Isabella cried her last tear that night. She would not cry again for anyone, not for three hundred years. She became the creature that Katya thought her to be. She would be merciless from this moment on. Her last human instinct would die with Nicolae, she resolved.
AUTO-DA-FE
ACT OF FAITH
CHAPTER SEVEN
Isabella returned home. The night’s events had made her understand that the castle was her only true home, the only place where she belonged. Any thoughts she had about going back to her house in the village were stricken from her mind forever. Unfortunately for Isabella, through it all she had always thought some miracle would happen and she would be happy with Nicolae again in this world or the next, but now she knew that wasn’t true and never would be.
Isabella passed through the doorway into her home. Vlad was sitting where he always sat, in the armchair beside the fire. Isabella found some comfort in this familiar scene. It was as if, after all these years, she finally realised that he would always be here and she could depend on him to always be with her. Isabella had hated him for so long, but now she had lost the will to hate him. And she desperately needed to talk to someone who knew to some degree what she was going through and who didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed at what she had become. She knew now he was not wholly to blame for what had happened to her. She had brought this on herself through her constant lies and deception. By lying to Nicolae she had kept him out of a large part of her life and as a consequence Nicolae had never really completely known the pers
on Isabella was. Nicolae had never loved her; he had loved his idea of her.
She went over and sat on the stone floor beside Vlad and gazed into the fire. The flames licked further and further up the chimney. She leaned forward and placed her hand just above the flames. As they licked higher her hand caught fire. Isabella did not feel any pain but she pulled her hand out of the fire, nevertheless. Isabella watched her hand burn.
“My grandfather used to say that fire could kill anything,” she began as she turned around and looked up at Vlad, seeing his face for the first time since she had come home. He had become young again. “You’ve fed,” Isabella continued.
“And slept. I didn’t want my appearance to make itself even more repugnant to you than usual,” he answered.
“Your appearance was never repugnant to me.” She looked back towards her hand again and blew out the flame. There was not a trace of evidence to show that Isabella’s hand had been on fire. “Fire can’t kill us, can it? No. It can’t even mar our flesh.”
“Nothing can kill you, nothing can harm you. Some people would think of that as a blessing,” Vlad answered.
“This life is certainly not a blessing,” Isabella said as she turned her head slightly towards him. “And you know it’s not…but also, you’re wrong. We can be harmed. I found out tonight we can even die.” Isabella sat up to face Vlad. She placed her hands and arms on his lap and with enthusiasm in her voice she said, “I want you to kill me. I know you can.”
“I can’t and I won’t,” Vlad said firmly.
“You tried killing me once, surely you bring can bring yourself to do it again.” Isabella berated.
Vlad pushed Isabella off his lap and out of the way. He stood and walked towards the fire.
“I didn’t mean to kill…” Vlad said softly, almost whispering. “I’ve told you we will live for eternity. We could share that life…together, Isabella…comfort each other…find some sort of solace.” Isabella turned away from Vlad; she was oblivious to his words. Like so many other times in their life together she was only partly listening and the true meaning of his words was not penetrating her mind. If she had listened to or thought about what he was saying to her, she would have understood how much he cared for her. But at this moment Isabella had only one thing on her mind, her final repose.
“Tonight I watched my husband die,” Isabella said, interrupting Vlad.
“He must be an old man by now. You should have expected it. It is inevitable that everyone you once knew will die and you will be there to see it, if you choose to be.”
“He was an old man…so old…so frail,” Isabella continued, her voice wavering as she spoke. “I hardly recognised him and I wept when I saw him. I couldn’t control my tears; they fell onto his lips. When he tasted them he opened his eyes, for they had begun to brighten slightly. Then it struck me, I suddenly remembered back to what had happened the day I died. I drank from your blood, remember?” Vlad nodded. “I let him drink from me and his desire for more blood overcame him.”
Isabella stopped. She was finding it difficult to relay the tragic events of the night before but she forced herself to continue. “Our son rushed to his father, overjoyed to see him well…and Nicolae…Nicolae killed him without a moment’s hesitation. He could not control his desire.”
Vlad sat down again and Isabella leaned in beside him. She turned her head back towards the fire, resting her head on Vlad’s knee. “He killed our son,” Isabella continued. “I tried to save Nicolae from death but he did not want to be saved. He would rather have died than become like us. When he regained his senses he realised what he had done and asked Katya to kill him. He was loathe even to look at me.”
Isabella drew out her grandfather’s sword, which had been hidden in the folds of her skirt. Nicolae’s blood was still fresh on the blade. She turned towards Vlad with the sword and said “I want you to kill me as Katya killed Nicolae.”
“No…! Isabella I cannot….” Vlad said to her, his voice betraying his feelings. “I don’t want to be alone again,” he said softly. “As always, Isabella, you only think of yourself!” he said harshly.
Isabella was getting impatient now. She turned back towards the fire and then quickly turned towards him again with fresh enthusiasm. “We can do it together. We can both strike each other at the exact same time.” Vlad did not move or make any sound. “We will be free from this life. I want this to end, I want to be free of this world; it has held onto us both for too long,” Isabella said, still hoping to convince him.
“Yes. But where will it end? You talk of being free of this world, but what awaits us in the next? We could be free, only to go to hell,” Vlad answered.
“We are in hell…and even hell would be better than this.” Isabella paused. “But I don’t think we would. I can’t explain it, but when Nicolae died a peace came over him. It was as if he had been able to make his peace with God. It was a feeling of total contentment. It emanated from Nicolae’s body and it surged through me. It comforted me. It made me realise that there is an end to this and it is nothing to be afraid of.”
“But Nicolae was different from us—you have said so many times that Nicolae was a good man.”
“He was in life but tonight he killed his own son! Our son! What greater crime and torment can there be than that?” Isabella paused before she made one final plea. “Please. I have never asked you for anything. Please grant me this.”
Vlad finally relented and nodded his consent to Isabella’s request. She smiled and handed Vlad Alexei’s sword and then ran to get another sword for herself. Vlad wiped the blood stain from the sword so that it was clean; it glinted in the light from the fire. They both stood facing each other, swords in hand; a cautious smile crept over Isabella’s face, Vlad returned the smile only slightly. There was a clatter as both swords struck each Vampire’s neck at the exact same moment. The blades hit the two creatures with such a force that they knocked each other unconscious but the blades didn’t even break the skin.
Isabella was first to awaken, for Vlad had held back the full force of his swing, but Isabella had not. She crept over to Vlad and pulled his hair away from his neck. There wasn’t even a mark. She was glad to see he was alive as well. She found some comfort in the fact that she had not been left alone. He opened his eyes and looked at Isabella’s beautiful face. “It didn’t work?” Vlad inquired.
“How do you know? This could be heaven,” Isabella said smiling.
“If this was heaven you would be with your husband.”
Isabella smiled reassuringly at Vlad.
“I’m not so sure…I believe now that my husband would have ended up hating me no matter what had happened.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“I do. I would have always loved him no matter what he did, but I cannot forget the look of hate he threw me when he discovered what sort of creature I had become, or maybe, it was when he realised what sort of creature I have always been.”
“Why do you think we didn’t die?” Vlad asked.
“Who knows? Maybe there is no salvation for us. Maybe we are both completely beyond redemption…maybe atonement is only granted to those who have led good lives for the most part, and that is why Nicolae was allowed to die.”
Isabella got up and curled up into Vlad’s chair by the fire. “What happened to you? How did we end up like this? Surely if you owe me anything you owe me some sort of an explanation”
“It’s so long ago I can hardly remember,” Vlad lied.
“You can remember every instant,” Isabella scolded. “My life, the memories I have, these are very clear. I remember everything as if it was yesterday.”
Vlad smiled, “So can I.”
“So answer my question, how did you become a Vrolok? You must know something, at least more than I,” said Isabella.
“I remember I was fighting the Turks. It seemed as if the whole world was following me. I was a King, a Ruler, and a God among men. Men followed me willingly to t
heir deaths and didn’t ask why. I could have married any woman I wanted and I chose Markéta. She was so beautiful I was enraptured from the start and I thought that she felt the same way about me. She was the sort of woman who, if you looked at her and caught her glance, would not look away like most women would; she would smile at you, instead. No matter who you were—the lowest of subjects, or the highest of Kings.”
When Vlad spoke of his wife, Isabella’s pride was slightly hurt, but for once she let him continue uninterrupted.
“Her mother did not approve of the match,” Vlad continued. “I was never sure why. I was from the best families; if anything, I was marrying beneath me. Markéta’s father realised this, silenced his wife’s protests and Markéta was betrothed willingly to me.
I soon learned that Markéta returned my affection; perhaps she even loved me too much. Every time I would go into battle she would beg me not to go, for she never wanted to be alone in the castle. She was petrified of the Turks attacking and that I would not be there to protect her. She had witnessed firsthand the brutality of the Turks and their treatment of those they took prisoner. They had captured her and her sister when Markéta was just a child. She had heard her sister’s screams as they were torturing her. However, Markéta was not touched. She was just left to hear and witness her sister’s agony. But she held onto the memory, and when she saw her sister again she was not dead but her back was covered in scars and they had branded her. Her sister was shamed; she was due to marry, but her future husband changed his mind when he heard what had happened, and her sister died.
Left mad and alone, Markéta had an irrational fear of the same fate befalling her. I tried to tell her that I would never abandon her as her sister’s future husband had, but she didn’t believe me, not completely, at least. Despite my constant reassurances, she was still petrified that if I was killed by the Turks the same fate would await her and she would end up alone, locked away, out of anyone’s sight, crying out in the night for her lost husband and lost life. I presumed at the time that when she saw the Turks coming through the forest towards the castle, it was too much for her to bear. She had not had any correspondence from me in months and feared I was dead. The Turks riding towards the castle confirmed her fears. I was told she threw herself off the battlements.
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