 |
|
The Silver Stake Kelantha
Our guest does not keep his journal well hidden. It is beneath the mattress of his bed and shoved just far enough in to be within reach of his short arms. He does not trust me, nor I him, for we know one another�s internal soul: that I am perilous to any man, a lure for which there is no counter-bait, a force to be contended with and that he, in all his blundering stupidity, presents the greatest peril of all. My husband does not seem to bear heed of it and did I not know him better, I might have imagined him blinded by Eduardo. Some of his delight in the man�s presence is fading, beginning with that night when I so graciously left the sot on my husband�s threshold. The count was haughty and disapproving, saying nothing when I returned shortly before the dawn in warmth and good cheer. He merely stood at the edge of the great old mantle garnishing his gaudy room and glowered at me, but beneath the indignant pride burned a fervent respect, for I had with utter charm beguiled him. I have commented that there are few clocks in the castle, for here time is endless and the world falls away while we endure in depravation, but there is one above the fireplace that chimes each hour, a lonely, melancholy sound that sometimes awakens me in sleep within the utter blackness of the coffin. As it struck the hour of five and the coffin creaked open to beckon its weary inhabitants, Dracula stretched out a lean white wrist to me and I accepted his hand. Our rivalry was then demolished, for it was never allowed to endure whilst we slept, and I did not complain when forced to entertain Eduardo in the weeks that passed. Thoroughly ashamed of himself, he was as meek as a mouse in the churchyard, trembling and stuttering and altogether reminding me of a wren caught in a wire cage. He was grievously concerned for his brother and additionally distraught about the loss of his silver stake. The count had said nothing to me of it, but I entered that night to find it lying in plain sight on the circular table at the bedside where a single lamp burned. Dracula stood in the shadows with arms folded, a brooding shape in the haze. I came forward and lifted the object, very sharp and menacing with an insignia emblazoned into the handle. It was weighty in my fingertips but I lifted it with ease. �Is this one day to be my end, immortal beloved?� I inquired, and he came forward like a vaporous shadow from the night. His hands closed over mine, tightening the grip on the murderous weapon of the vampire slayers. I gazed into his eyes then and saw a glimmer of light, so faint that it appeared only a reflection. Dracula drew me to him, encircling my waist and looked pointedly at the object. �Such an end will be not yours,� he said, �until the moon wanes and falls to the earth in a shower of silver sparks. It is an end planned by the zealots of the world who know not the majesty that is immortality. It is a weapon that Eduardo has no need of, that his brother would give his soul to possess, for even a werewolf can sometimes fight his madness.� He drew it from me then and put it away. I was enraptured by his words, sensing that his fascination with the brothers was coming to an end. I might yet have my opportunity for revenge.
This fan fiction is for enjoyment purposes only. You may not reproduce, duplicate, or otherwise quote the written text without written permission.
|