Lucard stepped out into the night. His night. Indeed, he was the master of the night and he knew it. He relished the idea of his nightly strolls, where he was able to submerge himself in the darkness which held so much comfort for him. He could relax, be free, and most of all, he could get away from those annoying humans he had to put up with all day!
As he casually but contentedly walked down the familiar streets of Luxembourg, Lucard realized that this evening was… different. He paused, uncertain - a rare feeling for him. He looked all around him, peering into the darkness that was so intensely thick that it could only be penetrated by the eyes of a vampire. Nothing. Annoyed at the distraction, Lucard again strained with all his senses to recognize any unfamiliar presence. Again, nothing. A low growl escaped his throat as he ruefully transformed into a bat and flew back to the comfort of his castle.
Once he arrived, Lucard went to the Great Hall to ponder the odd event that had occurred that evening. Angrily, the ancient vampire raised his crystal goblet to his lips and sipped the red wine which he enjoyed, but could not compare to the warm blood he craved. “How dare something be so bold as to interrupt my evening!” he thought to himself. “After all I put up with - work, that lunatic Klaus, Gustav and his brats - I can’t even take out a little time for myself.” Despite his annoyed state, a smile played on his lips as he realized how selfish his words sounded. Then again, why shouldn’t he be selfish? He had not, after all, survived for nearly six centuries by being generous. “No, I am rich, powerful, a successful businessman, absolutely irresistible to the opposite sex… I can be as charming as I can be deadly. There is no reason why I shouldn’t have what I want.”
Lucard took in a great breath and exhaled as a feeling of self-satisfaction came over him. Then, rising, he started off for his bed-chamber. As he walked through the hallways, though, he again felt the uneasiness he had experienced earlier. Whipping around with all the speed and agility his vampiric powers allowed him to have, he glared accusingly into the darkness, expecting to see some freak vampire-hunter armed with wooden stakes and holy water. Instead, he saw nothing. On the floor before him, the shadows of the trees danced merrily, mocking him. He could neither hear nor see anything out of the ordinary. Yet he felt it… Finally, he concluded that he was just exhausted. After all, it had been rather hectic at Lucard Industries and consequently he had not hunted in four nights. Wearily, he arrived at his bed-chamber and meticulously undressed himself, making sure that his black tuxedo was hung up perfectly. He put on a pair of red silk boxers and eagerly slid between the black silk sheets of his king-size bed. Sighing contentedly, he rid his mind of the disturbing events, closed his eyes, and allowed sleep to overtake him.
Lucard awoke with a start, gasping for breath as sweat ran freely down his forehead. He tried to sit up, but then realized that he couldn’t. Horrified, he tried in vain to move his arms and legs. It seemed that he was paralyzed from the neck down. Lucard’s mind began to race with thoughts: “What is happening to me? Why can’t I move? What cruel trick is this? Varney…” But the good doctor did not appear. It was then that Lucard again experienced the odd feeling that he was not alone, only this time it was much, much stronger. He looked over towards the moon-lit window and saw the silhouette of a person - a female, he deduced. The figure cocked her head slightly, then approached him. As she stepped out of the dim light and into the shadows, he could see her more clearly. She was young, or at least, she appeared young. Her body dictated that she couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. She had dark, piercing eyes to go along with her jet-black hair which fell in shiny curls to her shoulders. Her skin was deathly pale, but her unsmiling lips were red. Blood red. She was clad in black, Lucard noticed. She wore a long black skirt, black shoes, and a black blouse. Although she was quite small and gave the impression of being weak, Lucard knew better. This girl was a killer. Her eyes were full of hate and vengeance. She continued to approach him until she stood at his bedside. Then, in one slow but graceful move, she bent down until her face was mere centimeters away from his own. Her icy-cold black eyes pierced his. Lucard stared back at her, trying not to show his fear, wondering who she was and why she had come to him. What power did she possess that she could rob him of his mobility?
“Alexander…”
The word came out as a barely-audible whisper, even for his extra-sensitive ears. To Lucard, it seemed that the world stopped. Had she spoken? The voice - it was hers? He hoped that she could not tell how shocked and confused he truly was. How could this stranger know his name? He certainly didn’t recognize her. It was true that during his life he had encountered thousands of people. Hundreds of thousands, even - humans and vampires alike. But surely he would have remembered such a person. The girl smiled, but it was a cold smile which showed no signs of amusement. As her lips turned upward, her eyes went golden and she revealed a set of extended canines. They were perfect in every way - strong, white, and razor-sharp. The girl allowed her gaze to travel from his blue-grey eyes until they rested on his bare throat. She bent down lower until Lucard could no longer see her, but he could feel her hot breath on the delicate skin of his neck. He sensed her getting closer and closer until he could feel her fangs brush his tender skin. But she did not pierce his skin - yet. She was playing with him, enjoying the rush of power she felt and delighting in his fear. It was a practice that Lucard had perfected. The fear he felt was uncharacteristic, but he was unable to suppress it. “After all these years,” he thought to himself, “this is how it ends.” He shut his eyes, waiting to see what the future would offer him.
“How does it feel, Alexander? You don’t like it, do you? But there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nobody that can save you.”
He opened his eyes to find himself staring back into her face; she had returned to her human form.
Angrily, he hissed at her, “What is the meaning of this?”
“The meaning of this,” she said, cautiously sitting on the side of the bed, “is to show you exactly how my parents felt before you slaughtered them.”
“Enough.” If he could have waved his hand in dismissal, he would have. “What I did or did not do is irrelevant. If you release me now, I might consider not ramming a stake through your heart later.”
She stood up, furious, backing away from the bed. “You are in no position to be making threats!” She glared at him, frustrated. “You don’t even remember, do you? Allow me to refresh your memory…”
Lucard left the theatre in an excellent mood. The performance of La Traviata had been exceptional. There was only one thing that could make the night more perfect: blood. Preferably blood from a fresh young maiden. He went in search of a potential victim, and it was not long before one surfaced. She could have been pretty, he decided, if it were not for the ridiculous excess amount of make-up she wore. But it was of no consequence; he was not interested in her face, but her long, white neck. She was leaving a small florist shop, clutching a bouquet of white roses. Lucard called to her as she made her way to her car. “Excuse me, what beautiful roses you have there. They must smell absolutely lovely. Do you mind…?”
The lady smiled, pleased. “Of course not.” She turned away from her car and began walking towards him. Lucard waited for her to come to him. She came obediently and held the roses out to him. He placed his hands over hers and guided the bouquet to his face, burying his nose in them. He inhaled deeply, smiling. Then suddenly he grabbed the lady by her forearms and shoved her into an adjacent alley. She dropped the flowers and began to scream, but he clamped his hand over her mouth. He pressed his body tight against hers, pinning her to the wall.
“Shhhh…” he whispered in her ear, brushing her hair away from her neck as she whimpered. His took his hand away from her mouth and wrapped it around the back of her head. She did not cry out but moaned softly in protest. His fist closed around the hair at the nape of her neck, and he savagely yanked her head back and to the side. She cried out in pain. He didn’t care. “Let her cry out,” he thought. “Stupid woman.” His eyes went yellow and he extended his canines, baring them at the woman. He hissed as he saw her eyes widen in terror and then his head plunged. He pierced her neck with his fangs, noting the sudden intake of air from his victim. Tasting blood in his mouth, he withdrew his fangs and sucked hungrily at the two tiny holes. Her blood was warm and sweet, just as he knew it would be. As he drank more her body became limp, and he wrapped his arms around her in a deadly embrace, supporting her. He did not need to hold her head anymore; she was too weak to pull away. He drank until there was no more, then disgustedly withdrew his hold on her, letting her body fall ungracefully to the ground.
Blood stained his lips and his teeth. He was going to leave when he felt another presence nearby. It was a man, also emerging from the florist shop. “Victoria?” the unsuspecting man called out. He spotted the flowers on the ground and approached them slowly at first, but then began to run towards them. He stared down at the flowers which lay before him. Confused, he began looking all around and eventually his gaze rested on the fallen body of his wife. “Oh my God, Victoria!” He ran to her and shook her body. “Victoria! Oh, God! Somebody help us!” He stood up and turned to run to get a phone, but a tall, blonde man blocked his path. “Sir! Please, my wife needs help. Will you call an ambulance?” The blonde man did not move from his place. “My God man, she could be dying! Can’t you see?” He desperately turned back to his wife, gesturing to her fallen body.
“She’s already dead.” The sentence was delivered in the form of a hiss. The man turned back to see the blonde man, whose eyes were now golden. Lucard hissed again, revealing blood-stained fangs. The man put his hands up and backed away. “No, please. I have a child…” They were his last words. He didn’t have time to scream before falling prey to the vampire.
Lucard emerged from the alley with the mingled blood of the two lovers still dripping from his lips. The drops fell onto the roses, staining their delicate, white petals. He smiled to himself; the night had been perfect. He transformed into a bat and retreated to his castle. He did not notice the young girl in the car, watching him as tears ran down her face.
“That young girl was me. Strange twist of fate, that I should become a vampire like yourself.”
Lucard refused to let himself feel the slightest bit of guilt or remorse. He was more concerned with the girl and her extraordinary abilities. “Where did you get your power from?”
The girl smiled sadistically. “You mean your paralysis? My mother became knowledgeable in the ways of black magic. She knew how to harness special powers and passed the ability on to me. Over the years I have perfected my techniques. It could not save her, but it will destroy you.”
Lucard smiled back at her, mockingly. “The earlier offer still stands. I advise you to take advantage of my generosity.”
“And I advise you,” she said coldly as she approached to him, “to shut the hell up.” She slapped him across his face. Hard. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a wooden stake. “For centuries you have plagued this world, preying on the innocent. But no more. It is time for you to die now, Dracula.” She allowed the stake to hover in the air and watched his eyes widen before plunging the stake into his chest, impaling his heart. He shrieked and writhed as blood gushed out of his chest, splashing her face and neck. She watched him die, until only a pile of ashes remained on the black sheets.
She crossed the room to stand by the window and opened it. A pleasant breeze blew in, causing the curtains to billow out. She enjoyed the feel of the wind across her face, knowing that it would be the last time. She withdrew a second stake and positioned it directly above her heart. As she thrust it in, she cried out in pain, but only a little. She fell to her knees and then was no more. The wind carried what was left of her to the bed, where they mingled and danced with the ashes already there.