Synopsis: After being assassinated and beheaded by his enemies, Vlad Dracul the Impaler is raised up as a vampire by Satan herself (yes - herself!) He seeks a bride, and finds a candidate in the lovely young Giselle du Meliere. His quest begins....
The Curtea Domnească
Village of Tārgovişte, Wallachia
December, 1476
Dracula
His eyes snapped open. Darkness.
It was pitch black. He was closed up inside something. A box? But…..
How could he know this? He was
dead!
He distinctly remembered the searing pain in his chest as the arrow drove deep into his body, through the heart. As he lay on the ground, he saw, through a crimson haze of pain, one of his own men approaching with a short sword in his hand, his face twisted into a mask of hatred. He felt a hand grip his hair, felt the blade slice cleanly through his neck, leaving behind enough blood so he could see the landscape whirl dizzily as his head was kicked from one to another, laughing as they played with it as if it were a child's ball.
Then….nothing.
Until now.
Vlad Dracul raised his right arm tentatively and pushed. A lid creaked open with a sepulchral echo. Dim light flooded into his claustrophobic enclosure, and he sat up.
He was in a coffin, naked except for the funeral shroud that covered him. He recognized this place – a tomb inside the castle of the
Curtea Domnească – the Royal Court. It was his residence outside the city of Tārgovişte. But how?
Vlad could see the dim glow of twilight through an open, vaulted window. Snow blanketed the silent hills beyond in a ghostly shroud. A hand went to his neck in disbelief. He had been decapitated; he was sure of that. But not so much as a scar marred his smooth skin.
He frowned, fighting down rising panic. Something was
very wrong here! He should have been freezing in this frosty chamber, and yet he felt nothing. He should have been able to see his breath hanging like a fog in front of his face, and yet he saw nothing.
Was he even breathing? Was he alive?!
“So many questions!”
The voice was soft, melodic, almost musical.
Vlad whirled around and gasped.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was naked, full-breasted, with a slim waist and rounded hips. Long, wavy red hair hung to her waist, and she appraised him candidly with clear green eyes.
“Who…”
She smiled seductively, showing long, sharp fangs.
“I have been called many names. I was known as Lilith, Adam’s first wife before Eve, who left him to become the bitch goddess of demons and vampires. I have also been called Asmodai, Beelzebub, Belial, and Lucifer. I personally prefer my more commonly-known name: Satan.”
Satan! The Devil him…
herself?
“But you’re a...”
“A
woman?” She snickered. “So what? Do you think that evil is a trait exclusive to the male? I must admit, though, that you stand out in the annals of human cruelty.” Satan stretched languorously and hopped down off the casket. “Besides, I can take on any form I wish. I thought you might find this one...pleasing.”
“What is this all about?” Vlad asked. He was beyond frightened, almost terrified, but he did his best to disguise it. His mind reeled as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. He was supposed to be
dead! The only bright spot was that he found the Lord of Darkness to be entirely appealing and alluring.
“You served me well in your lifetime, Vlad Dracul, and for that service, I am rewarding you with eternal life...of a sort.”
“Of a sort?”
He wondered what that implied.
“You will become a vampire, a creature of the night, the Prince of Darkness,” she continued. “The sheep who populate this world will be your subjects, your cattle to feed upon. You will drink their blood. You will relish the terror of your victims, thrill to the sensation of their pulse as it ebbs and dies. They will fear you more than anyone in the world – with the possible exception of
me!”
“A…a
vampire?” Vlad scoffed. “I didn’t think they existed.”
“You’re looking at one,” Satan said, tossing her head back with a throaty laugh. “If you could look in a mirror, you’d be seeing another one – except.....you no longer cast a reflection.”
She embraced him. She smelled like cinnamon, and, despite his anxiety, he felt himself harden at the nearness of her. They kissed.
“And how would being a vampire allow me to rule over these vermin?” he asked, brushing her lips with his own. “I’ve heard the legends.”
“Then you know legend has it that you can change your shape,” she replied, grinding her hips against him. “You can become a bat, or a wolf, or even a formless mist. You can grow wings in your human form – the sheep find that apparition to be particularly terrifying. You will be able to hypnotize others and force them to do your will. You will drain their blood for your nourishment, and if you force your victim to drink your blood, they will become a vampire like you when they die – but they will be in thrall to you, your disciple. And if they serve you, they serve me.”
“Impressive,” he said. “So the tall tales are all true. I would dearly love to destroy every man, woman and child in Tārgovişte to avenge my assassination. They prospered under my rule, but they apparently took exception to the harsh discipline I employed. It was necessary to maintain order!”
Satan chuckled.
“I think what drove them to move against you was the little girl you executed,” she said. “Let’s see – she refused your advances, so you publicly stripped her, then violated her in the town square. You tortured her; you impaled her on a red-hot stake that pierced her body until it came out of her mouth, and then you skinned her alive. Oh, and you left her bloody skin lying on the ground near the base of the stake so she could gaze upon it as she died. Nice touch.”
A laugh bubbled up from her throat.
“She was a pretty little thing; I can understand why you lusted after her. But she was only sixteen years old. Even sheep like the citizens of Tārgovişte have a breaking point. Push them beyond that, and they
will lash out. But I applaud your ingenuity. And now you can wreak vengeance on them.”
“And I
will!" he vowed.
“They buried your headless body in an unmarked grave at the Snagov monastery, but I had, if you’ll pardon the expression, a devil of a time getting your severed head back,” Satan said, grinning. “It was sent to the Turks in Istanbul. They encased it in honey to preserve it, and impaled it on a stake outside the city walls as proof that the hated
Kazıklı Bey was truly dead. It was hell getting that sticky stuff out of your hair! But….here you are.”
“Here I am,” Vlad Dracul said as he kissed her again. “Is there anything else I should know? According to folklore, there are limitations to that power as well, are there not?”
“Yes,” Satan answered. “There are limitations. You are a creature of the night; you will never see the sun again. You must sleep in your coffin on a layer of your native soil from sunrise to sunset; exposure to the sun will destroy you, turn you to dust within moments. In extreme circumstances, you can go out during the day if the sun is hidden behind the clouds - and you can summon the clouds if need be. But if the sun should come out, you will die. Stay away from running streams and holy water. You will abhor the sign of the cross, and will be repelled by garlic.”
“Never see the sun...”
Vlad’s eyes were haunted for a moment; then he smiled tightly. “A small price to pay for such power. I am ready to serve you, My Lord.”
Satan traced her finger over his lips and smiled.
“One more step – we must drink one another’s blood and seal your pact with a kiss. Only then will you experience the fullness of your powers.”
She sank her fangs into his neck; the flow of his blood into her mouth felt almost as pleasurable as an orgasm, and Vlad shivered and moaned. She pulled away, panting, offering her throat to him. He bit down until his fangs tore through her jugular. The blood hit his growling stomach, and suddenly the pain of gnawing hunger ambushed him like a knife in the gut. He drank greedily; she finally had to push him away.
“E-easy,” she gasped. “We’ll take you out for your first feeding shortly. Now we must consummate your transformation.”
They kissed, and their tongues wrestled as their blood and saliva mingled. They licked the blood off each other’s gory faces. Vlad could feel an incredible surge of energy and power coursing through his veins.
Then Satan climbed into the open coffin and raised her delightfully-formed backside in the air.
They mated savagely; their terrifying snarls reverberated off the dank stone walls of the tomb, and before long, Vlad's roar of climax echoed in the sepulchral chamber.
Satan stroked his hair, then sat up, smiling.
“Well, my dear Vlad, I think it is time we explored some of your new-found powers.”
He nodded. “I am ready, my Lord.”
She stood by the window and raised her arms. A terrifying change rippled over her body. Her skin became mottled and took on the color of putty. Five foot wings burst from her shoulders. Long, razor-sharp claws sprouted on her hands and feet; her face stretched into a short, bat-like muzzle, and her mouth suddenly bristled with gleaming fangs.
And she had grown a tail.
“
Imagine it,” she growled, “and you can
do it!”
Vlad concentrated. Within seconds, he could feel the transformation into the bat creature overtake him. The feeling of power it imbued him with was intoxicating. With a triumphant roar, he launched himself out the window, with Satan close behind him.
He knew instinctively what to do. It was exhilarating; he soared high in the air at breakneck speed and cruised over the village of Tārgovişte, his black hair streaming out behind him. The wind blasted over his naked body, but he did not feel cold. He felt no discomfort whatsoever.
“Look – over there, by the river!” Satan exclaimed, pointing.
He saw them clearly; they seemed to glow in the dark. A teenaged couple walking hand in hand in the snow along the banks of the Ialomiţa River. They looked like ants from this height.
“The people are celebrating the end of Vlad Tepes’ reign of terror,” she sneered. “Let’s spoil their party. Let us feed on these young ones and
kill them!"
They swooped down noiselessly; the young lovers were unaware of the vampires’ presence until it was far too late. A round, pretty face framed with blonde curls and wide, terrified blue eyes whipped around in horror as Vlad’s claws sank deep into her shoulders, and blood spurted. She screamed in agony and terror as she was lifted high into the air. He reached up with his hind claws and slashed, stripping her and leaving bloody grooves on her nubile body.
Then his fangs sank deep into her throat; powerful jaws clamped down until they snapped together in the middle. Her blood gushed into his parched throat in a torrent.
He drained her within moments. Scraps of torn, ropy meat clung to his fangs, and blood drooled out behind him.
The girl’s mangled head dangled by a thread of flesh, and a few splintered vertebrae.
“Tear it off – lest she rise as a vampire and compete with you for prey. She will not be in thrall to you!” Satan shouted with a terrible, bloody grin as she soared alongside him. The boy’s headless corpse hung from her claws. She reached up and disemboweled the body with a brutal slash; then she let go of it.
“I’ll not share with a
peasant!” Vlad snarled. He twisted the girl’s mutilated head off her shoulders and let it drop. Then he grabbed her ankles and wrists and yanked savagely, tearing her in half at the waist. He watched as her torso and legs spun down through the night sky, streaming blood and entrails, until they splashed into the half-frozen, ice-choked river far below.
They flew back to the castle, sated, and reverted to human form as they landed in the tomb.
“Your hunger was overwhelming,” Satan explained. “You will find that a normal feeding can be a truly sensual experience. I prefer it that way. It can be slow and pleasurable, and spread out over several nights, or it can be done all at once, if you don’t want to wait to ‘turn’ your victim. You will find your own way.”
She kissed him; then she waved her hand, and he was suddenly attired in a Wallachian nobleman’s clothes. He glanced down at himself. It was a fine outfit: black leather boots; snug, black trousers; a white dress tunic; and a black greatcloak with a hood and a red lining.
“I wish I could see what I look like,” he said wistfully.
“You look dashing, my dear Vlad,” she said. “Your hair is shorter, and straight, and swept back from your forehead. They shaved off your thick mustache when they killed you, because they knew you were so proud of it. Personally, I like you better this way.” Satan stepped back and smiled.
“You are no longer Vlad Dracul the Impaler. From this day on, you are Count Dracula, King of the Vampires, Prince of Darkness, Son of Satan!”
He raised an eyebrow at that last.
“Well…
adopted son, anyway!” Her green eyes danced mischievously. “You have the run of this castle. I conjured up a few visions to convince the tenants that the place was haunted.”
“It
is!” Dracula said sardonically.
“Yes. Well, you might want to hire a few retainers back after you establish yourself. If you just drain
some of their blood, you can make them your slaves. They come in handy for your interactions with the human world.” She embraced him. “And find yourself some brides to share your kingdom with.”
Then she was gone in a puff of smoke. The stench of sulphur and brimstone clung to the air – along with a hint of cinnamon.
He gazed out the window. It was fully dark now – time for him to explore his powers. A little visit to Tārgovişte was in order.
“I am...Dracula,” he said aloud. He smiled.
Then he closed his eyes and opened his mind, and a vampire bat hovered where he had been standing an instant before.
The creature dived through the window with a rush of air and flapped off toward the village.
*****
Giselle
Bonfires blazed merrily in the town square of Tārgovişte. The people were celebrating the coming of Christmas, and the death of Vlad Dracul – Vlad Tepes, the Impaler. There was dancing and singing and drinking where only days before a young girl had died horribly after being gruesomely tortured and impaled. She was just one of thousands to be executed by Vlad Dracul over the years of his reign, but her gory death had been the catalyst that brought about his downfall.
A huge, dark bloodstain on the cobblestones marked the spot where she had been murdered.
Peasants and well-to-do
boyars alike mingled in the square, heedless of the cold. They danced and swayed – some of them from drink – as the music reached a crescendo.
Dracula studied them with contempt from the edge of the crowd. His hood was drawn up to cover his features. He took this precaution, even though he realized he could cloud their minds so they would be unable to recognize him.
Take a bride from this stinking mass of humanity, this rabble? Phah! They were cattle, good only for feeding upon. The women he saw were peasants, fat and smelly, more like pigs than human beings. Most of the
boyar women, the aristocrats, had stayed away – probably by order of their husbands. He would choose a bride from their blue-blooded ranks – but not tonight.
He was about to leave when a carriage drawn by six black Transylvanian stallions rattled and clattered down the main street. Someone shouted, “Make way for the coach of Jacques du Meliere!” and the crowd parted like the Red Sea.
Dracula's eyes widened in appreciation.
Gazing from the window of the carriage was the face of an angel. Dracula stared in appreciation. She was very young, no more than eighteen, and luminously beautiful. She looked so innocent and virginal. Jade-green eyes stared in wonder at the crowd, and long, blue-black hair, parted in the middle, flowed to her shoulders, held back in a pony tail by a band. A group of young men waved at her. She brightened and waved back.
“Who is
that?” one of them exclaimed. “She’s
exquisite!”
“That’s Giselle du Meliere,” a companion said. “She’s here from France for the holidays. Jacques is her uncle. Rumor has it that her father sent her here to protect her virginity; things were getting a little too hot in Paris!”
“She’s been here two days, and she’s already had half a dozen suitors call at the du Meliere manor house,” a third youth chimed in. They all laughed.
‘Her,’ Dracula thought.
‘She’s the one. She shall be first.’
He faded back into the shadows and transformed himself into a bat. Within moments he had picked up the coach and kept pace with it, following it up the drive to the du Meliere estate. He flew behind a tree and shifted back into his human form.
Dracula hid in the shadows until the party in the carriage had been inside long enough to get settled in. Then he boldly strode up to the door and knocked. The attendant who answered regarded him quizzically.
“May I come in?” Dracula asked.
‘Yes, you may,’ he thought.
“Yes, you may,” the doorman answered, as if in a trance.
As he entered the house, Dracula’s powerful mind reached out to touch all the members of the household, summoning them – all but Giselle. Within moments, du Meliere, his wife and children, and all their servants stood in the drawing room, staring blankly at him.
“You will all remain here until I depart,” he commanded. “You will not move, you will not even blink until after I am gone, and then you will remember none of this.”
None of them stirred.
With a satisfied smile, Dracula climbed the steps to Giselle’s boudoir.
*****
Giselle du Meliere sank into the bed, suppressing her tears. She
hated this place. She
so wanted to be back in Paris with her lover Henri. Why did Father send her to this ridiculous little backwater village in Wallachia?
A sob broke from her chest. She knew why. Papa wanted to keep her from Henri. They were very close to consummating their relationship, and Papa knew that. And he wanted his little girl to remain a virgin.
She pouted.
Most of her friends had long since surrendered their innocence to their boyfriends; some of them had sex all the time, like wanton, slutty whores.
The young girl sniffed and hugged her knees to her chest. "Oh, Henri, if only we could be together." Her eyes brimmed with tears. Raising her head, she continued to whimper, letting the tears stream down her face.
Then she frowned, sniffling, wiping her face.
The man standing at the foot of her bed seemed to have materialized from out of the ether. He was tall and lean, handsome and aristocratic. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. His shiny black hair was combed back from his forehead, and he was dressed in black, with a white tunic. He wore fine clothes – the clothes of a nobleman. His dark, piercing eyes seemed to bore right through her, hypnotizing her. She was terrified; she wanted to run screaming from the room, but something kept her rooted in place. Something inside her mind.....
"Who are you?” she asked, shuddering. "What do you want?”
The man walked toward the bed, his compelling eyes locked mesmerizingly on hers. "Don’t be afraid. I am Dracula. You let me in. Don't you remember?"
"No," Giselle shook her head. "I don't."
"But you do," Dracula whispered throatily as he sat beside the raven haired girl on the bed. "I knocked on your door, and you invited me in."
"I did?" Giselle's forehead furrowed in confusion as Dracula subtly moved deeper into her mind, clouding her thoughts, controlling her will. He began to stroke the soft, dark hair, loosening the band that held it back.
"Are you sure?" Giselle's puzzlement increased.
I truly don’t remember...
"Yes," Dracula's lips brushed the slender neck. "I heard you weeping. I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Oh," Giselle's head nodded slowly.
Of course. Everything is fine. Relax. She shivered. "You're s-so
c-cold!"
"It is cold
outside," he responded. "You will grow used to it." Dracula continued to stroke her hair, then let his hands move to Giselle's shoulders. Deftly he removed the silk nightshift, and continued to let his hands roam over the young body. "So young, so beautiful, so healthy," he murmured. He still craved the rich, warm liquid that flowed in her veins, but now he craved something more. "So desirable. And desiring."
A moan bubbled from the girl’s throat, bringing an appreciative smile to Dracula's lips. He maneuvered Giselle further back into the bed. He slipped out of his clothes and joined her.
Giselle frowned and shook her head in confusion.
This is wrong! She couldn't understand what was happening. It was if she had no control over her own will. She should scream and call for help.
But she could not.
Dracula continued to examine her young body with his skilled hands.
"But denied desire for so long," he continued as he began to caress Giselle most intimately. "I know that feeling, child."
"W-wait."
Relax. Enjoy this.
Confusion and desire filled the young girl. It frightened her. "P-please,
stop." Giselle put up a beseeching hand to halt the skilled manipulations of the man lying beside her and felt herself grab his manhood.
'This is wrong!' she thought.
"No, child," Dracula's hand covered hers. "It is
not wrong. Go on."
'How could he have...' Giselle continued to shake her head, trying to get away from his insistent touch.
"You are so sad, child," Dracula continued, moving closer to the young form. "I can ease your sadness," he continued pulling Giselle's body to his, burying his head in the curve of her neck.
"Relax, child. Relax." He smiled as the tenseness slowly left her body. "That's better - much better."
Dracula raised himself up and leaned over Giselle's body. He began to kiss the girl's face, starting with her eyes and moving down, pausing at her mouth. He let his kisses become more aggressive. Giselle hesitated, but at the man's insistence, finally let her mouth open and admit his tongue. The kissing became more heated, and she responded, and found herself beginning to explore his body in much the same way that hers had been explored.
Dracula moved back briefly, smiling at the girl, then continued to kiss her, lingering on her pear-shaped breasts before moving down to her navel. He felt the girl shudder with anticipation as another moan escaped her lips. Then he moved lower and continued to kiss her body, holding her hips in place, delving deep into her body, pleased when Giselle cried out and arched in pleasure.
"And now, my sweet one," Dracula murmured as she moved back up to Giselle's lips, "I believe it is my turn."
Giselle looked up into Dracula's eyes, nodding slowly. "Yes," she said thickly. "Of course. But--"
"Don't fret, my sweet child," Dracula rolled to his back on the bed, pulling Giselle on top of him. "You will do well. You will please me as I have pleased you."
"But--" began Giselle again, "I've never--"
"Just do as I did," Dracula pulled Giselle's mouth to his. "Just do as I did."
Giselle obliged, beginning with Dracula's dark eyes and moving down. Again there was a lingering as she let her tongue enter Dracula's eager mouth. She stopped and looked at him expectantly, then continued on as Dracula nodded his satisfaction. Her tongue tickled his chest, and Dracula found himself pulling her even closer, then releasing her to let her move down his body, pausing at his navel before moving on.
He felt his own quiver of anticipation as Giselle’s head dipped between his legs. He found himself holding her, making sure she could not pull away until she had completed her oral ministrations. Giselle's hands moved under Dracula's hips as she took him in her mouth, and she fell to her task with more fervor as she felt his grateful response.
His seed soon filled her mouth and throat. It was as cold as the snow outside, but she swallowed every drop.
Giselle lifted her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes seeking Dracula's approval. He smiled and pulled her down beside her.
"You see, my sweet, you were able to do it." He rolled the girl under him and made as if to begin kissing her again.
Suddenly, his sharp fangs bit into Giselle's neck. She gasped, then moved her head to expose her neck even more. Dracula felt the girl shudder under him in an explosive climax and smiled as he continued to feed.
He finally stopped, and leaned back to slice open his chest with a thumbnail. He forced Giselle’s head against the wound.
"Now, sweet child, drink. Drink, and we shall be as one."
He cradled her head as she did as she was bidden. Finally, he pulled her away from the wound and kissed her lips tenderly. He kissed the neck that had so recently fed him, pleased to see the angry red marks emblazoned on her now-pale skin.
Giselle's head lay nestled against Dracula's chest. Her breathing was shallow, labored. The fluttering of her long lashes tickled the vampire faintly as he stroked the girl's cheek. Looking up into Dracula's dark eyes, Giselle let herself smile. She raised a weak, trembling hand and wiped a droplet of blood that remained on Dracula's lip with her finger, then placed the finger in her own mouth.
"Welcome, child." Dracula smiled down at her.
"M-master," Giselle said, stumbling over the word.
He got up and dressed himself. She was
his now, his to command. The mark of the vampire was on her throat, and she had drunk his blood. Soon she would join him as his undead bride.
He would come to her again tomorrow; then, the night after that, he would bring her over to the other side....
He bent down, kissed her and stroked her hair. “Sleep now, Giselle,” he whispered. “And tell
no one of this. I will return tomorrow night, and we will explore….further.”
A thrill of pleasure shivered through Giselle’s taut young body. Perhaps he would make love to her tomorrow, instead of just kissing and licking her sex. As enjoyable as that had been, she desperately wanted him inside her. All thoughts of Henri faded from her mind.
She quickly drifted off to sleep.
Dracula walked slowly down the staircase, past all the members of the du Meliere household, who stood frozen, just as he had left them. They would regain their senses after he departed; to them, it would be as if no time had passed. He closed the door behind him, and heard the quiet hubbub of conversation begin as he strode down the pathway.
And then, suddenly, he shifted into the form of a bat again, soaring over the village, on the prowl for perhaps one more victim to feed upon before the morning sun forced him back to his tomb.
TO BE CONTINUED…..
Next: Dracula and Giselle (Part 2): Innocence Lost
Dracula and Giselle (Part 2): Innocence Lost
.
). Anyway, all those edits make the story flow better. The ellipsis.......is especially effective 
Re: Dracula And Giselle
That's totally hot! I may steal that! Nicely done; you oughta write something like this. 
Yeah, Satan's a sexy babe. Glad you liked.
will eat you!
Sorry. I really appreciate it.
I like your style and the depth to which you capture my attention!!
Linear Mode
