Synopsis: Dylan Vorcla and his girlfriend Melissa Westfall find themselves in the clutches of Nilos LaGory, the Vampire Master.
Author's Note: Adult Content
Dylan Vorcla's head spun dizzily. It was all too much to absorb. "Wh-what did you say?" he whispered in shock.
LaGory chuckled. "I know your ears are more sensitive than that, boy. I said, I am a vampire, and I also happen to be your great-grandfather!”
He mockingly patted Dylan on the cheek. "I think it's time you learned a little bit about your dear old great grandpa, Dylan. Since you’re involved in all of this, I feel that I at least owe you an explanation of your heritage, and what this is all about." He sat on the edge of the altar. “That’s more than your parents have ever done.”
"I was born in 1450, in Targoviste, Wallachia - modern day Romania. I was the son of a nobleman and a contemporary of Targoviste's most famous citizen, Vlad Tepes. You know him better as Count Dracula."
Dylan snorted. "Dracula is a fictional character."
"Indeed?" LaGory smiled patronizingly. "I’ll tell him that next time I see him. You’re wrong, of course. I'm living - or I suppose I should say undead - proof that he exists. When Vlad became a vampire, I was one of the first people he 'turned.' I was 26 years old. Instead of making me his subject, however, Dracula made me a Vampire Master, almost equal in power to himself. Your father was my most formidable opponent over the centuries. In some ways, I rather miss him." A shadow of what appeared to be genuine regret passed briefly over LaGory's face. "Which brings us to tonight..."
Dylan stared numbly, and LaGory's face fell in mock disappointment. "You don't believe me, do you? I would have thought my corpse-like pallor would have been sufficient to convince you. I didn't have time to put on any make up tonight. Perhaps it's the clothes; this isn't how you Americans expect a vampire to be dressed. Very well - I suppose a demonstration is in order."
He waved a hand, and suddenly he was attired in black evening dress, complete with a collared cape and a gleaming gold medallion. His black hair was slicked back and came to a pointed widow's peak in front. Dylan jerked backward, startled
"Good evening," he said, in a theatrically exaggerated Romanian accent. "Velcome to my castle. I vont to sock your blodd!"
"Jesus!" Dylan muttered, swallowing hard. What had he just seen? He couldn't believe his eyes, and yet...
One thing was sure - however LaGory was achieving this illusion, he and Melissa were in the hands of a lunatic! He glanced over at her. Mercifully, she was still unconscious.
LaGory sighed as the evening clothes faded, leaving him in his jeans and denim shirt once again. "My Bela Lugosi impression usually gets them every time. Okay - how about this?"
Suddenly LaGory's face underwent a horrifying transformation. His skin turned the color of putty, and his eyes became pools of blood. Twin pupils glowed in their centers like scarlet embers, hypnotic, frightening, but strangely compelling. His canine teeth had become sharp fangs, glistening like deadly pearls. He drew his lips back tightly over his teeth, and his nose wrinkled in a feral snarl. The silken voice had taken a dark turn as well. It rippled about Dylan, raising the hair on the back of his neck. He shrank back in terror. The creature leaned in close, and his breath reeked of death.
"What do you think
now, boy?" he hissed, his voice now hollow and sepulchral. "Are you convinced?"
"J-Jesus, yes!
Y-yes!"
Slowly, Nilos LaGory's appearance reverted to normal.
"Good. Time grows short." LaGory began to pace, hands clasped behind his back, like a professor lecturing a recalcitrant student. He began to speak in measured, pedantic tones. "Now, a little genealogy lesson, since your parents never saw fit to tell each other their prospective secrets. Your mother's side first. I impregnated your great grandmother with a girl child. I would have turned her, but the bastards of her village had the uncommonly bad taste to track me down during the day and drive a stake through my heart. Incapacitated me for several years. Your grandmother was a Dhampir - half human, half vampire. Which brings us to your mother, Lillias Branson Vorcla. She also has vampire blood flowing through her veins."
He stopped in front of Dylan, his piercing blue eyes boring into the youth.
"And so do
you, Dylan."
"I...I don't believe y-you," Dylan stammered.
"Believe it, boy. I tell the truth."
"How do you know all this...about my mother's family?"
"When I impregnated your great grandmother, I became psychically linked to her and, subsequently, her progeny. I'm even linked to you, Dylan." LaGory grinned. "Do you really think it was
your idea to come here? I could sense your curiosity about your father's disappearance, and then I drew you here. Didn't you think it was peculiar that you knew exactly where to go?"
Dylan stared incredulously; he didn't want to believe LaGory, but...
"Your mother..."LaGory shook his head. "Lillias is a ditz. All she thinks about is partying and getting laid. If Stefan hadn't made an honest woman out of her, she'd have been a hooker."
"Don't talk about her like that!" Dylan bristled. "My mother..."
"...is a
whore!" LaGory snarled. "Come off it, boy - you know it's true! How many different men has she brought home with her since your father disappeared? How many times has she come home with two or three men? You lose yourself in the woods of that big, rambling estate when you're there so you don't have to deal with it. I can see it in your mind. You can't lie to me."
Dylan found that he had no answer for the vampire. LaGory nodded to himself with a smug grin. He began to pace again.
"All right. Your father's side. Your father Stefan LaGory was born here in England in 1798. He was bitten by a werewolf on the moors and became one himself. He and I were sworn enemies for over 200 years. He was an odd bird. Instead of locking himself up during the cycle of the full moon, he would simply 'go away' to various cities all over the world out of consideration for his family. He was not considerate, however, of the young women whose mangled bodies turned up for the next four or five days. I suppose he thought it was acceptable as long as he didn't know them."
"You
killed him," Dylan spat.
"Yes, I did," LaGory returned. "Since you tend to be a Doubting Thomas, I'll show it to you."
He slid aside a small hidden panel on the side of the altar, and his fingers danced over a series of touchsensors on a recessed control board. A section of the circular stone wall pivoted and rotated 180 degrees, revealing a large, flat white projection screen. On the opposite wall, another section rolled aside, and a projector slid forward.
"I bought this place in 1821," La Gory said. "I try to keep it updated while maintaining its original Gothic flavor.
The screen lit up with an image of the castle's foyer, depicting its huge wooden doors with arched stained glass windows on either side - probably a security camera view. Suddenly one of the windows exploded inward with a shower of multicolored shards. A massive, shaggy brown shape landed on the floor on all fours. It tossed back its enormous head and roared like a lion.
LaGory froze the image, and zoomed in on the creature's face.
Dylan Vorcla recoiled, gasping in horror.
The face was a demonic, terrifying mixture of man and wolf, with a long snout and a mouthful of razor-sharp fangs. Its yellow eyes shone like beacons.
"That's what a werewolf looks like, Dylan," LaGory murmured. "Hideous, is it not? It's your father. He decided to launch a one-Wolf assault on my castle. The fool - he must have gotten drunk just before he Changed."
The werewolf surged forward, snarling. A pretty blonde servant girl screamed as she was snatched up. The beast grabbed her by her wrists and ankles and tore her in half at the waist, spraying blood in all directions.
Suddenly, a large net of thick steel cables dropped over the creature. It howled in impotent rage as it fought against its entrapment, becoming hopelessly entangled.
Then the howls became shrieks of agony as lethal voltage crackled and surged across the vanes of the net. The werewolf struggled frantically for several long moments before it went down. Wisps of smoke curled up from the hulk of its twitching body.
A dozen of LaGory's black clad acolytes rushed forward. One brave soul crouched down and injected a syringe full of a heavy tranquilizer into the beast. They tugged on the net then, and began to drag it slowly across the floor. The girl's mangled remains were trapped inside with the creature, leaving a wide smear of blood on the floor in their wake.
The scene dissolved to a view of the very dungeon in which they now found themselves. The werewolf was shackled to the black altar. An IV tube had been inserted into its arm.
The beast was stirring. Its eyes fluttered open just as Lagory strode onto the screen. The creature roared weakly at the furious vampire.
"Well, Stefan, this is the straw that broke the camel's back!" LaGory raged. "You've invaded my home and killed one of my subjects. For that you must die! I've enjoyed our sparring matches over the years, but this is where it ends."
He nodded, and one of his minions cracked the valve on the IV unit, sending a trickle of clear fluid down the line.
The werewolf suddenly arched its back, screaming piteously, and began thrashing on the altar. Dylan felt a pang of sympathy for the huge beast as tears streamed down its furry cheeks. Whatever the fluid was, it must have been excruciating.
"Silver nitrate," LaGory supplied. "What Kryptonite is to Superman, silver nitrate is to a werewolf. It's a slow, lethal poison, leading to a protracted and agonizing death."
The horrifying face of the beast began to shift and writhe. The shaggy fur and the fang-studded snout receded as the features became more and more recognizable, until finally...
"D-Dad," Dylan choked in a broken voice. "Oh, God - no! Then it's
true..."
The naked body of Stefan Vorcla contorted and screamed on the altar slab now.
"It was extremely painful for him," LaGory said. "It took him almost three weeks to die - a slow, wasting death. I have extensive video of the entire process; however, in the interests of time, I believe we should cut to the chase."
The image on the screen faded, to be replaced by another. Dylan cried out in anguish.
Stefan Vorcla resembled a skeleton with a thin parchment skin stretched over it. His glazed eyes were buried deep in sunken sockets. He reminded Dylan of pictures he'd seen in a history class once, gruesome images of concentration camp victims at Auschwitz. Dylan shook his head in disbelief. His handsome, strapping father was just a shrunken caricature of his former self.
"He weighed only 94 pounds when he died," LaGory said, a cruel smile twisting his features. "This is the actual moment of his death."
The sketchy, wheezing sound of Stefan's ragged breathing filled the dank chamber. He suddenly jerked in a violent convulsion as a horrible rattling issued from his chest.
Then he settled back with a resigned sigh and lay still.
The screen darkened.
"You
b-bastard!" Dylan sobbed.
LaGory snickered. "I love you, too, Dylan."
The vampire walked over to the skeleton hanging on the wall and strummed his fingers across the rib cage. The bones rattled and quivered.
"Your father," he said. "I kept his remains around as a souvenir, a little memento of our centuries together."
He stepped around in front of the youth and brutally grabbed his chin in a viselike grip.
"Now - as to why you're here. I have summoned you to fulfill your destiny. Haven't you ever wondered, Dylan? Why you can see in the dark? Why you can smell blood on the wind three miles away and hear things even farther away than that? Like your father, you, too, will become a werewolf. Tonight is the Blue Moon, the second full moon this month. You will be unable to resist its pull. You will Change for the first time, with my assistance."
"Y-you're c-crazy!" Dylan stammered, sniffling.
"Am I?" LaGory leered malevolently. "Everything I've told you thus far has been true, has it not? So is this."
He released his hold and leaned in nose to nose with Dylan. "You're not just a werewolf, you're a werewolf/vampire hybrid. You will have all the powers of the Wolf, plus the formidable mental powers of the vampire. That will make you a very powerful ally to me - or a deadly opponent. Even
I have no idea how powerful you will become, because your first Change will unleash and amplify your latent powers. Even now, your aura is so very strong. I will attempt to control you with my mind. Failing that, I will - regrettably - be forced to kill you."
Dylan glanced at Melissa, who was beginning to stir. "All right - your business is with me, LaGory. I'm Stefan's son. Let Mel go. Please!"
LaGory's eyes widened.
"What? You're taking back my gift - the beautiful, innocent little virgin child you've brought for me? That was so thoughtful of you - a replacement for my poor dead bride Marina." His face hardened. "Not a chance, boy! She is
mine! I will force you to watch as I take her and then turn her and kill her, so she can rise as a vampire and join my harem."
"No!" Dylan cried. "For God's sake, please let her go! I...I'll join you. Just let Melissa go."
LaGory loosed a sinister chuckle. "You'll join me anyway, whether you want to or not. I will see to that. No, Dylan, your delectable little girlfriend is mine."
Melissa's eyes flickered open. She screamed when she saw LaGory, and her beloved Dylan naked and in chains.
"D-Dylan! What's h-happening?"
"Don't worry, Mel - I'll get us out of here!"
LaGory chuckled.
"An empty promise, Dylan." He turned slowly toward Melissa. "Look at me, my child. I am Nilos. Don't be afraid. Look into my eyes.""
She did. They were deep and dark, soothing, and...mesmerizing. Melissa lost herself in them.
"You are mine, child," he crooned. His voice was as smooth as chocolate. "We shall be as one - tonight. You shall be my bride. We shall consummate our union now, and you shall not be afraid. There will be a brief stab of pain, and then nothing but unbridled pleasure."
"Yesssss....
hhhhhh…..so nice…."
Melissa blushed. Heat radiated throughout her naked body, and she realized there was moisture between her legs. She had never felt so wonderful. Nilos was naked now, naked and needing her. He was slender and beautiful and well-built, but oh so pale.
He kissed her. Their tongues met and meshed, and Melissa moaned in pleasure.
She was only barely aware of Dylan's angry, anguished cries somewhere in the cell...
Nilos was kissing her all over her body now, and her head swam. When he found her nipples, her moan became a scream. He nibbled and licked and teased. He continued to hunt over her lithe form, working his way down lower, ever lower.
He nuzzled between her thighs, and something exploded in her head...
When she came to her senses, he was lifting her up, taking some of the strain off her shackled arms. He was incredibly strong; he eased her down gently and entered her. Melissa screamed in pain and then he was inside her, and, just as he had promised, there was only pleasure.
Never had she felt anything so wonderful, so satisfying! She wrapped her legs around his waist as he thrust energetically. She heard herself screaming his name, and screaming obscenities she didn't even realize she knew. She could hear the slap of his flesh against hers, his grunts and her own guttural moans of ecstasy. Her pleasure spiraled upwards, faster and harder, until tremors rippled through her belly and she convulsed as her climax hit, ripping a strangled scream from her throat. She collapsed, sagging in her bonds as her legs slid limply from around his waist. The vampire lord pulled out of her and stepped back, and thick, pearlescent clots of his icy semen drooled from her forcibly-opened womb to slide down the insides of her quivering thighs.
LaGory turned to Dylan.
"She's mine now, boy!" he hissed. "I've planted my seed in her virgin womb - something you've never succeeded in doing!"
Melissa's ragged breathing slowly returned to normal. Nilos trailed kisses down her neck. His voice flowed over her senses like a rippling stream over smooth rocks.
"Now we take the next step," he murmured. "Do not be afraid, little one."
Her cry was muffled as LaGory's fangs sank into the tender flesh of her neck. Blood streamed down over her breasts and belly. She experienced an invigorating euphoria as the vampire's fangs burrowed deeply into her, injecting their pleasure venom, holding her in an iron grip. Not only was escape impossible, but Melissa found to her surprise that a part of her didn't want to escape. She leaned toward LaGory's body, savoring the pulsating flow of blood as it was sensuously drained from her neck.
Somewhere in the background she could still hear Dylan screaming. Why was he so upset?
Time ceased to exist for Melissa. There was only the link which bound her to LaGory; the overwhelming urge to submit to another's control, another's will, another's authority. She didn't struggle. She didn't even try to cry out again. She felt a sense of safety and peace that she'd only experienced rarely in her young life.
The fangs lifted from her neck, and she felt a chill across the area which was still moist with blood. Melissa moaned, crying out for the retreating figure. "No! Nilos - please don't go!"
She felt a pang of...of abandonment...loneliness. She wanted him to come back. She realized she was cold; her shoulders were screaming from hanging in chains...
LaGory, meanwhile, his face smeared with Melissa’s blood, taunted the sobbing Dylan. "She's
mine now, boy! Phah! You are a weakling. You were saving yourselves for marriage. You shouldn't have waited! I will finish her momentarily, and she'll be lost to you forever. And I want you to watch."
LaGory stalked back to Melissa and waved his hand. Her manacles opened and he caught her as she sagged into his arms. He dragged her over to stand before Dylan, just inches away from him.
The vampire slashed a razor sharp thumbnail across his own chest, and blood streamed over his stomach. He pushed Melissa’s face into the scarlet torrent.
“Now, child,” he hissed. “Drink!“
Melissa reflexively licked and lapped at the vampire’s flowing life force. She choked and gagged, but she swallowed, too.
Panic clawed at Dylan Vorcla. He wanted to scream, to run, to hide. But he had no voice left. He couldn’t breathe, and icy sweat trickled down his back. His scalp crawled as he watched his beloved swallow the vampire’s blood.
‘Mel! No!’
Her head lolled back weakly. Her face, too, was painted with crimson smears. LaGory caressed the wound on his chest with the tips of his fingers, and it stopped bleeding and sealed up, leaving not so much as a scar. Then he attacked Melissa’s neck once again, snarling like a rabid animal, no longer concerned about subtlety, or about sparing her from pain.
Melissa’s eyes snapped open in terror as full realization of what was happening to her sank in with the crystal clarity of an icewater slap. LaGory drank greedily. She shrieked in agony; her skin was as white as paper now, and her lips were blue.
“D-Dylan…I…I…love…y-you…” she managed.
Then Dylan watched in sick horror as a pulsing vein on her neck throbbed slower…slower……………..slower………… …………………………………………slower…..
….gone…...............
“Mel! Ah, please, no!
Noooooooooooo….”
LaGory let Melissa’s corpse sag against Dylan.
For the briefest of seconds, their lips touched.
Then the vampire released his grip, and the dead girl slid slowly down the front on Dylan’s body to collapse as a puddle of pale, clammy flesh on the floor at his feet. Through his tear-blurred gaze, Dylan could see echoes of the terror of Mel’s final moments mirrored in her wide, lifeless blue eyes.
They stared up at him accusingly…
"Mel....."
LaGory lifted up Melissa’s corpse and laid it on the altar, arranging it almost tenderly. He gently folded her hands across her midriff.
Then he turned back to Dylan.
“Now,” LaGory intoned, “I think you hate me enough!”
Dylan gazed up miserably at his tormentor, too distraught even to reply.
Then the vampire raised his head as shafts of cold white light streamed down into the dungeon from the portal in the vaulted ceiling.
He smiled.
“Time to find your own destiny now, Dylan.”
Moonlight bathed the cavernous chamber and washed over Dylan Vorcla. He suddenly screamed, jerked upright and convulsed as a smothering blast of pain blanketed his entire body. Perspiration glistened; popping and crackling noises emanated from every joint of his lean frame as bones lengthened and extended. His heart beat furiously in his chest, and his hand and fingers elongated as razor-sharp ebony talons sprouted where his fingernails had been. Thick blonde fur bristled all over his body; he ran his tongue over his teeth, which had grown into long, sharp fangs. His face twitched and contorted as it stretched into a wolf like snout.
“Do you believe me
now, boy?” LaGory asked quietly.
Through a haze of pain, Dylan could sense a Beast lurking in his mind, raging to take control. Instinct submerged reason and logic; he couldn’t remember who he was, where he was, couldn’t remember anything…
Then the consciousness that was Dylan Vorcla was gone.
The 'Wolf had been unleashed…
To Be Continued…