Vlad kissed Erzsébet on the forehead and said, “I have to go.” He transformed himself into a mist and seeped out through the window of the room. When the guards came in, he was gone.
“Who is with you?” the guards shouted.
“No one,” replied Erzsébet. “Why would you think anyone was here?” The guards looked at each other. They had no idea why they expected to see someone with Erzsébet. They walked back up the corridor scratching their heads, completely bemused.
Isabella was waiting for Vlad when she saw the mist floating down towards where she was standing below. Vlad re-emerged and Isabella threw him a cloak.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“I think you know—I heard you scratching at the door.” Isabella smiled; he knew her so well. “How did it go with your charges?”
“I am not sure. I think we may have trouble with Dorottya.”
“Well, we will both attend the trial tomorrow to make sure all goes according to our plan,” Vlad answered.
The next day Erzsébet’s testimony was delivered as directed. After speaking, she sat and caught sight of Vlad in the crowd. She smiled on seeing him and he returned her smile, nodding to acknowledge her. This ensured her compliance.
Ilona walked up to the stand she looked back at Isabella and Isabella whispered, “Do everything that Dorottya told you to do.” Ilona was compliant.
Dorottya approached the stand very nervously. Isabella was watching her every move and so was Vlad. Dorottya started off well but she was not as confident in her statement as Erzsébet or Ilona. Her answers were clumsy and disjointed, but she was relaying the story as planned. Isabella still had her veil on to keep from being recognised.
There was growing tension in the room because the crowd that had been gathering outside for days were by this time baying for blood. They had started to throw things at the windows of the castle. Every time one of rocks thudded against the wall, Dorottya would jump in fear and her eyes would dart about the room. The nobles in the court room were also getting more and more agitated. The crowd outside had now reached over a thousand people and they were all seeking retribution.
A rock suddenly broke the glass window. It flew past Isabella’s head, knocking her hat off, and consequently, her veil fell to the floor. The rock ricocheted off Isabella and struck Dorottya on the head. Dorottya fell. She rubbed her forehead where she had been struck and looked at the blood on her hand. She pulled herself up on to her feet only to see Isabella staring at her.
Dorottya now felt that Isabella could not ensure that she was not going to be given to the mob. She stretched out her arm and pointed towards Isabella. “It was her,” Dorottya shouted, but her voice was not heard over the din of a panicking crowd. Ilona, seeing Dorottya accuse Isabella, also began to shout accusations at the Vampire.
Isabella and Vlad had both predicted the betrayal of the two women only moments before it began. The two Vampires shouted into to the crowd simultaneously, “Burn them!”
The crowd joined in. They wanted people to blame and they wanted a sacrifice to placate to the mob outside.
“She is the one!” Dorottya shouted, still protesting her innocence as several of the crowd pulled her from the stand. Dorottya and Ilona were frantically trying to implicate Isabella.
“She is responsible,” Ilona cried out. The crowd carried Dorottya and Ilona over their heads. There was a small gap in the crowd and they dropped Dorottya to the floor. Isabella rushed over to Dorottya and lifted up her chin so that she staring into Isabella’s face.
“I warned you,” Isabella said. Dorottya burst into tears and Isabella relinquished her grasp. She was then lifted up again and dragged outside. By the time she got there, Ilona was already burning. The mob outside had already erected Dorottya’s stake and she was being pushed and pulled towards it. Isabella watched from the broken window above. The flames were licking higher and higher. Dorottya and Ilona were screaming in agony. Isabella, as she looked down on the women’s faces, was surprised to realise she felt guilt. She turned towards Vlad and said.
“No one deserves to die like this. Make the pain stop for them. They are guilty of no more than we are.”
“You are not supposed to have a conscience. You are a Vampire, remember?” Vlad answered.
“Sometimes I remember my humanity. There is still some human blood in these veins.” Vlad walked towards Isabella and gently pressed his finger under her chin and lifted up her face. They looked at each other. Vlad raised his other hand and rubbed his fingers gently over her eyes and face. He then pressed his lips to hers and they kissed. In all their years together this was as intimate as the pair had ever been. They loved each other; they always had. The pair heard another scream from outside.
“Go, hurry, stop their pain,” Isabella said.
“You will have to get rid of that human blood of yours,” Vlad said.
“I cannot—it is my grandfather’s blood.”
Vlad held Isabella’s hand and pulled it towards him as he left so that Isabella’s arm was outstretched. They did not let go of each other until they absolutely had to. Vlad ran down the stairs and out into the crowd. Isabella and Vlad both projected their thoughts into the crowd. Don’t see him. Isabella thought. The crowd obeyed and did not see him, but Dorottya and Ilona did. He quickly killed Ilona to stop her misery and then Vlad walked through the flames and climbed up so that he was face to face with Dorottya.
“I can make the pain stop,” Vlad stated.
“Please, please make it stop,” whimpered Dorottya.
Vlad said “close your eyes.” Dorottya complied. Vlad bit into her neck and projected his elation at draining her blood into her mind. Dorottya’s pain was over, and so was her life.
Ficzkó, who had done as he was asked, was mercifully beheaded. Katalin as planned was found innocent and returned to her home and her mother. She was the only one who had escaped with not only her life, but she had escaped prison as well.
Erzsébet had smiled during her sentencing. She kept her smile even through the journey back to her castle, which was to become her prison. Nothing could wipe the smirk from her face. Her smile seemed to even grow wider as every entrance to her castle was bricked up. She was unsettling the guards as each brick was put in place. She watched from inside as her tomb was being sealed, unafraid of her fate.
Erzsébet should have been afraid, for both Vlad and Isabella were following her back to the castle at Čachtice. Both of them agreed that imprisonment was not a befitting punishment for this maleficent woman.
When Isabella had returned to the castle a few months before asking for Vlad’s help, Vlad had shared with her a few more of his secrets.
“My powers did not come to me instantly as yours did,” Vlad began. “I am going to tell you a secret. Vampires can be controlled, and their powers can be suppressed. My wife’s mother wanted to punish me for my wife’s death…she still blamed me. Through the centuries Dhampirs had learned how to torture Vampires. They were the only creatures who possibly could. When I awoke from my sleep I was not strong like you were; I certainly could not have risen from my own grave. You drank from me a pure Vampire’s blood, but I had been fed on a Dhampir’s blood only. She had revived me because she wanted to keep me alive, to watch me suffer. I was in constant pain, and I was growing old rapidly, but yet my thirst for blood forced me to drink from her.
This went on for almost a year. She would let me drink from her intermittently and she was enjoying watching me suffer, until one day I had managed to crawl out into the courtyard. I espied a Gypsy walking along the path beside the castle. All I saw was blood. I couldn’t chase after her. I was not strong enough. I called over to her and she came over to me willingly. She had flowers with her. She was obviously on her way down to the village to see if she could sell some of her wares. She was old and frail like me. I said for her to come closer and I would buy all her flowers. She believed and trusted me. I asked her to come closer again so that I could see
what she had, closer. I kept on repeating, until she was within reach. I grabbed her neck and threw my body on top of hers, pinning her down. I bit down hard, the more I drank the stronger I became. She struggled at first and cried out but as my strength increased, so too did my grip. When she was dead I let go and I felt powerful for the first time. I must have killed ten people that day and by nightfall I was strong and young again. I could see in the dark and I waited for the Dhampir to arrive.
She did not realise at first that anything had changed. I knew she didn’t have the abilities I had. She couldn’t see me clearly and she didn’t realise that I was young again. I immediately knew I had the advantage. She came in, sat down and put out her wrist for me to drink from. I crawled over to her as if I was still weak and was about to drink. When I looked up at her she saw my young face smiling at her. I then grabbed her arm and wrenched her collar bone from its socket. She squealed in pain; she was no longer stronger than me.
I lifted her up and threw her against the wall. As she hit the wall she broke several ribs. She was nearly at the end of her life anyway and I was determined to finish her off. ‘Your blood is poison to me,’ I shouted, and she shouted back that she knew it was and she had taken great pleasure in watching me in pain. I put my hand around her neck and was slowly squeezing the last breath from her body. She just managed to say that my pain may have ended but my eternal suffering had just begun. Her corpse lay on the floor and blood was still pouring from it. The blood trickled on to my skin and burned slightly. I realised this was a valuable commodity and filled as many wine jugs as I could with it.”
“Have you ever come across another Dhampir?” Isabella asked.
“No, she told me she was the last one of her kind. I think she was; I think if our powers are at their full capacity we may be able to sense them, but I have never killed anyone whose blood was poison to me. Have you?”
“No, never.”
“We may be able to use this blood.”
“How?” Isabella asked.
“When I was drinking only the Dhampir’s blood and nothing else, I felt as close to death as I have ever felt. It may be able to kill us.”
Erzsébet was waiting for Vlad and he did not want to keep her waiting long. Erzsébet had lit a candle and she was excited to hear a banging on the brick wall that had just been so recently erected. The first brick fell to the ground. Erzsébet was overcome with excitement when she saw Dracula’s face looking in at her from outside her bricked tomb.
“Erzsébet, come with me,” Vlad said. Erzsébet ran to Vlad and embraced him.
“Anywhere,” she said. “Make me young again?” she continued, as this thought was never far from her mind.
“Soon,” Vlad answered. “Come with me.”
“Of course, I will follow you anywhere. Please make me young again,” Erzsébet repeated.
“I told you, soon,” Vlad reaffirmed. He led Erzsébet by the hand out of the castle and onto the grounds. Vlad took her quite a distance from the castle. All Erzsébet could talk about was being young again. Vlad was getting quite irritated by her virtual and constant chatter about having her youth returned to her. Vlad thought that eternity with this woman would be unbearable.
They stopped in a clearing in the woods a few miles from the castle. Vlad turned to Erzsébet and said.
“It’s time,” Vlad was appalled by the happy look in Erzsébet’s eyes. She clapped her hands in glee, like a child who had been given a present. She was completely insane. Vlad leaned in and bit her neck he let her feel his bite. She let out a small whimper and then she said.
“I knew it would hurt,” she said, “but continue, please, I don’t care if it is painful.” Vlad bit down harder. He drained her blood until she was very weak. He then slit his wrist and let her drink from his blood. Vlad let her drink just enough from him so that she started to regain her youthful looks.
“You are young again, you are a Vampire.” Vlad stated.
“I am!” She looked at her hands. The skin on her hands had smoothed and the ivory colour of her youthful skin had returned. She felt her face; it felt smooth and supple again. “Thank you, thank you!” she cried out in joy. She kissed Vlad but Vlad pushed her away. He was disgusted by her, but he did not show his disgust, not yet.
“We have to go back.”
“Why?”
“Because people are still angry with you. They have to hear you moving around in that castle—just for awhile.”
“But why?”
“They will come after us and hunt us down, if you do not do as I say.”
“You are right and we cannot take that risk,” she said.
The pair travelled quickly back to the castle. Vlad enlisted the help of two Slovaks to brick Erzsébet back into the room. Just before the last brick was put in place Vlad reached through the gap in the wall and handed Erzsébet a bottle full of blood.
“You will need this,” Vlad stated, “for when you get hungry.” What Erzsébet did not realise yet was that Isabella was now in the room with her. Erzsébet was examining herself, dancing round the room in excitement. Isabella, like Vlad, was sickened by the Countess’s foolishness.
After a few hours, Erzsébet began to cry out and convulse. She was in agony, and she was hungry. Isabella watched her suffering and then when she could not stand the sound of Erzsébet’s shrieks any longer, she made her presence known.
“Are you in pain?” Isabella asked. Erzsébet was astonished to see anyone with her. However, she was in too much pain to be worried about Isabella. But she needed to be. Isabella held a lighted candle in front of her face so that Erzsébet could not see her.
“Who are you?” Erzsébet asked.
“Isabella. I am Vlad’s …”
“Servant, of course. He sent you to look after me,” Erzsébet interrupted. Isabella was amazed at the woman’s arrogance. “Do you know how to stop this pain?” Erzsébet asked.
“You are hungry; you need blood,” Isabella answered.
“Did Vlad leave you for me to feed from you?” Erzsébet pounced forwards towards Isabella and tried to grab her. Isabella easily avoided Erzsébet’s grasp and said.
“Did Vlad not leave you blood?” Erzsébet remembered the bottle that Vlad had left.
“Yes he did, I will drink it to regain my strength and you will not escape me then,” she threatened. Erzsébet bent over in agony and looked for the bottle; she clambered over to the bottle and started to drink. She drank all of it but she did not feel any better. The pain did not leave her and she felt no satisfaction from the blood. She felt weak and she collapsed. It was the Dhampir’s blood that Vlad had left. Isabella watched as Erzsébet began to age, and she aged rapidly.
“Look at your hands,” Isabella whispered venomously. Erzsébet looked at them. The ravages of age had returned to her as quickly as they had left her.
“No!” screamed out Erzsébet.
“Did you honestly think you would not have to pay for your sin?” Isabella blew out the candle so that Erzsébet could see her face. Erzsébet looked up at Isabella and now she recognised her. It was the woman she had seen so many times before. It was the woman who had started all of this and now was going to end it. “You will stay in this room for the rest of your existence. The pain you are feeling will continue and will get worse. And you will age and age rapidly. You will become old and decrepit and abhorrent to anyone who looks upon you. By drinking that blood you have poisoned yourself. You have no vampiric power; you will never be able to leave this stone tomb. I don’t honestly know if you will die, but you may starve to death. Be thankful you have been given a gift that a Vampire is rarely afforded, the possibility of death.” Erzsébet was crying out in agony and anguish, sobbing uncontrollably. It was how she would spend the rest of her existence.
Isabella transformed herself into a mist and seeped out though the wall. When she was on the other side Vlad was there, waiting to greet her. He gave her clothes and when she was dressed she punched out a brick
of the wall. A ray of light fell into the room and Erzsébet was still there, sobbing for the moment of youth that Isabella had stolen back from her. Isabella called out to her.
“Erzsébet?” Erzsébet ran to the wall and stared out in amazement. When she saw Vlad she called out.
“My love,” she cried out to him. She stretched out her hand and tried to stroke Vlad’s handsome face. He pulled away from her touch. “My love, make me young again,” Erzsébet beseeched him.
“Never,” Vlad retorted. Isabella took Vlad’s face in her hands and kissed him in front of Erzsébet.
“No!” Erzsébet cried out. Isabella looked at her and said.
“I am leaving you with a view to the outside world to let the families of the people you killed see you in such distress. Perhaps this will give them some comfort and also let the world see the hag you will become. And believe me when I tell you, when anyone talks of the Báthorys they will not mention your name. Your portrait will not hang with the rest of your illustrious family on the walls of the palaces in Hungary. It will be hidden away from sight like a shameful secret.” Isabella turned away from the door and Vlad went with her. They left Erzsébet to face her misery and the slow torturous starvation of a Vampire alone.
THE LAST VROLOK
THE LAST VAMPIRE
CHAPTER TWELVE
Simon and his family had fled after speaking to Anna; they had now survived just over a week. Simon’s wife was heavily pregnant and needed to rest for at least one night or she would not be able to travel. So despite Simon’s better judgement, they stayed a night in an inn near the German border. Simon stayed awake, keeping watch while his family slept in the bed beside him.
In the early hours of the morning while he was struggling to keep his eyes open, he caught sight of a coach which was approaching the inn at quite a rapid speed. He wondered, or at least hoped as it approached, that it was another Slovak family fleeing from Isabella. He had recognised several faces at the inn from the village but did not acknowledge them, as he feared that it might endanger their lives or his own family if any of them were caught. The coach was now only a few hundred yards away and Simon’s blood chilled as he noticed that a woman was holding the reins of the horses, a beautiful woman with white, glowing skin and long black hair. The coach drew up outside the inn and Simon, who had been transfixed by this pernicious beauty, was unable to take his eyes from her.
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