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“Fine, if you are such a weakling.” Stan opened the prison cell’s lock and entered. He shoved his bleeding arm into Gabriel’s mouth and ordered, “Eat.”
I had never heard Stan speak so sternly with anyone. He was always the one who followed somebody else’s orders and was quite polite most of the time. But wars changed people. In order to survive, one had to leave all pleasantries at the door.
Gabriel tasted a bit of Stan’s blood, and immediately his eyes turned silver.
“Just make sure you don’t swallow me whole. There are enough bodies outside for you to feast on.”
After drinking a good amount of blood, Gabriel’s entire demeanor changed for the better.
“I believe you are strong enough to get up,” said Stan. “Go help your ruler, Second-in-command.”
When Gabriel heard those words, his eyes gleamed as he sped outside. I wanted to run after him, but before I did so, I checked if Stan felt okay. He bandaged his hand tightly and rose. He wabbled a bit from a dizzying spell but looked like he would survive. I remembered present Gabriel telling me about this part of history. But now that I knew I would witness it, my heart began beating louder than a drum.
Outside the gate, I witnessed something words could not describe. The sky brimmed with crows ready for a feast. Hundreds upon hundreds of dead bodies lay on the ground, and it didn’t stop there. It was one thing to kill but a whole other ordeal to impale the bodies. Only one relished in the cruelty of the situation. Gabriel. He finally had enough to eat. Enough to survive. The answer to all his suffering, all his pain.
Gabriel still looked weak, probably because Stan’s blood wasn’t enough. By the time he got to the bodies, he was forced to crawl. Once there, he began drinking blood or ripping hearts out from all the fresh corpses. He didn’t have much time before the blood would coagulate, and I assumed most of the carcasses hanging from the stakes were long dead. But from the looks of it, out of twenty thousand stakes, there would be enough fresh blood to finalize the transformation.
The more he drank, the stronger he became. The hollow in his cheeks began to fill up. His skin turned from sallow to glowing. And his gaunt and lanky body expanded into muscles fit for a warrior.
Once Gabriel could stand, he joined the men who worked tirelessly to erect the stakes. Except, Gabriel shoved them to the side and ordered them to sit. He dug his fangs into the dead man, drained his body of blood, and raised his body on the stake. Then he proceeded to do the same for the next corpse. The more he did so, the stronger he became. By the last stake, his speed went supersonic, and his strength became limitless.
After a bloody feast, Gabriel looked like the man, I mean vampire, I knew today. I realized why becoming the first one was close to impossible. So many things had to go right. A Goldilocks alignment of events. If the evil witch hadn’t heard about the prophecy, she would never even consider helping Gabriel. Then he needed Solomonarul and his weather-controlling powers. He had sacrificed his…firstborn, though unknowingly. He had to overpower his inner beast. Then he needed to survive the rejection, scorn, and murderous beatings not only from The Ordinary Realm but also from The Other Realm. Finally, he had to survive his hunger until he found an abundance of sustenance. In what world was it easy to find thousands upon thousands of fresh corpses ready for one to devour? Even with so many wars in the history of humanity, the possibility for all these events to happen at the same time was close to null.
In The Other Realm, he truly deserved the title Gabriel, the Immortal. And in The Ordinary Realm, he was the real Count Dracula. Since few humans knew about The Other Realm when they witnessed Gabriel’s bloody feast, they assumed it had to be Vlad the Impaler. Vlad was already known as one of the cruelest rulers in history, so it didn’t take much for the story to stick to his persona forever. But sometimes things were different than what our eyes perceive. What humans believe to be humanity’s cruelest moments was, in fact, a story of survival. A story of love. A story of hope.
I rejoiced at Gabriel’s revival just as much as he did. The glimmer in his eyes told me everything would be all right. But looking over the Wallachian landscapes, I noticed a dark shadow hovering in the sky. Someone was watching over Gabriel, and it didn’t look like a friend.
Chapter 5
The next scene emerging from the fog didn’t look familiar. I had been transported into a manor of some sort. It still kept a medieval style, but everything was built out of crystal and white marble. So I assumed the manor might belong to Gabriel. After becoming a vampire and gaining control over his beast, he must’ve built himself a fancy dwelling. The massive hallway included numerous rooms and stairs leading to God knows where. All the railing on the staircase were made of intricately cut crystal. Essentially, the builders of the manor decided to use only two building materials: the easiest and the hardest to break. The bare walls had no windows. An unusual feat even for medieval times. Though visually extravagant, I sensed an underlying feeling of menace.
I was ambling around the white marble manor when someone sprinted next to me: a curly-haired, barefooted woman. Naturally, I followed her, curious about the commotion but also hoping she would lead me to Gabriel. Though I lost the woman soon after, I reached a two-door arched crystal entrance. Though made out of glass, I couldn’t see anything behind it, just muffled noises. Noises denoting great anguish.
Fretfully, I entered and saw Vedoma. Again. We really couldn’t take a rest from this lady. Sometimes, you needed a new villain in your life, if for nothing else, at least, for diversion. But no, we still had to deal with the same ol’ witch with a broom up her––
Uh, Mom’s language habits seemed to emerge in moments of extreme anger. Still, looking at her pristine princess-y look under the warm candlelight, one would never assume this woman had venom flowing through her veins. I got a glimpse of her face only for a second before she turned to a wooden table to mix some kind of potion. What was she doing? And where was the woman I saw earlier? Next to her stood a bed, but I couldn’t see who lay inside it since a canopy with dark chiffon covered its entirety.
I tiptoed closer, still wary of Vedoma’s potential powers. The wicked witch of Wallachia turned to the bed, moved a chiffon drape, and said, “Wake up, my lord. Your brew is ready. You’ll feel better. Mark my witch’s heart.” Vedoma snickered.
When I finally got to see who hid behind the black curtains, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Gabriel looking completely drained physically. He was but skin and bones. Did Vedoma starve him to kill him? What was her plan?
Not only did he look emaciated and out of it mentally, but Gabriel also had shackles around his bruised wrists and ankles, and his mouth had been gagged with a silver-covered piece of metal. What was wrong with these people? Didn’t she help him become a vampire earlier? Why did she decide to kidnap Gabriel and begin torturing him?
“Here, drink up, my lord,” Vedoma said as she lifted his chin, removed the gag, and poured the potion into his mouth. As he drank one gulp at a time, Vedoma kept ogling at Gabriel. “Hmm, your handsome traits still remain on your face even after months of starvation. Beauty is synonymous with you, my lord.” She tried to kiss him, but he turned to the side, even with the limited energy he had left. Vedoma smirked and said, “Very well. You still seem obsessed with that cross-stitched princess.”
“I might be a cross-stitched princess, but you are a veritable bee with an itch. A pun very much intended.”
“You cannot even imagine the worlds we could conquer if we formed an alliance. Sucking blood from drunk people and sleeping with barmaids does not suit the most powerful being ever to exist. If you forget the American girl, I could send you to places few have ever been.” She lay next to Gabriel and trailed her fingers over his half-naked body. He tried his best to distance himself from the witch, but she seemed unbothered by his disdain.
I wanted to rip her from him and give her my signature Petra mohawk hairdo. The woman had lost any shame. To my relief, once she noticed him avoiding her gaze, she rose and said, “Your stubbornness will be your greatest weakness, my lord. Alas, if nothing seems to change your mind, I have no choice but to move to my next plan.” She walked to a vanity mirror and rearranged her blonde tresses.
“Mistress, I am ready,” said a fretful voice.
“Just in time,” said Vedoma gleefully. “Gabriel is ready as well.”
Ready for what? What did she plan on doing to Gabriel? My heart began thumping, almost escaping my chest.
When I looked closer at the woman entering the bedroom, I had to blink my eyes several times to make sure I saw her well. It was none other than Smaranda. What in the thickening plot twist was this? I already knew Smaranda was the right hand of Vedoma, but somehow, I didn’t think everything started so early. Duh, Smaranda was once human, and since she still looked young, it meant all this had to happen during the next ten years after I left. But why Smaranda?
