Radu, Dracula the Handsome

Wish come true...Maybe not...

 

Radu, Dracula the Handsome

By V. K. Harris

 

 

  The gate of the cemetery had an eerie squeal as the wind blew cold, leaves brown and crisp swirled between the iron rods. In ominous gothic style the huge ornate gate at the entrance hung partly open, as if to welcome only the lost haunted souls whom dared to enter.

 

She turned sideways stepping into this place of death, slowly walking in she heard her own voice,

 

“Why am I doing this”? “But I must know is it true”, “I must know!”

 

Her name was Sara; she was what the kids at school called a “GOTH”, long black hair, black eye shadow, black lipstick ect. She didn’t care to the fact that she was even noticed, all she wanted to do was disappear like a ghost. Sara had been dressing in all black since she was 14. Her parents didn’t care about her as she lived with her mother and she hadn’t seen her father since she was 10 years old.

 

 Sara moved constantly changing schools five times in three years. Her mother was always hooking up with a bunch of, “White trash a******s”, she would say. But now Sara was pretty much on her own at 17, nobody cared if she lived or died she thought. She has had it bad in life, but until recently she had became interested in Witch Craft. At first it was just for fun with two of her friends from the other schools she attended, but now she fell into the wrong crowd you could say as they had started teaching her about the Black Magic, the occult.

 

It opened a whole new world to her; life had changed as Sara became consumed within its grip. She started reading all the books about magic spells and the occult until one day while at the old city library she came across an antique book, “Myth and Legends of the Dark”. The book was dated to the 18^th century. Living in Salem it was no surprise to find it she thought. She quickly read through the first few pages and found it talked about old history of the occult and magic within the old world of Europe. Sara tucked it into her back pack and went out the door but not before telling the librarian old Miss Little goodnight.

 

She walked down the tracks to her secret place; it was an old railroad shack in the train yards. Nobody ever bothered her there except a bum once in a while would try to break in for a crashing place. But Sara had this old baseball bat she would smack against the inside door and the bums would run off thinking it was a railroad worker. She had it fixed up real nice too with junk furniture. There she would light candles and read into the night.

 

That night Sara leaned into the tattered sofa, candles flickering and read the book through the night. Within its pages she learned of an old myth legend hidden inside the city’s old cemetery. When the book was written it stated it was forbidden to enter the “Place of the Cursed”. It told about a beast of whom was immortal that would pick his victims “For Feast or Favor”. It called this beast “Radu the Handsome”, brother of the Count himself…  “Vlad III Dracula.” It is said that “if you receive the bite of the curse you would forever be cursed an immortal for eternity”.

 

Sara pondered the possibility of finally becoming what she dreamed to be…a “Vampire”.

 

She read on and found there was a hidden crypt located within a hillside cave at the very back of the cemetery. She paused thinking, “I bet I could find it”, “It’s probably covered with centuries of over growth”, “Yeah I’ll find it”…

 

It stated the tomb of “Radu the Handsome” could be found under a full moon only on “The Night of the Hollow” on the anniversary every 100 years. The next one would be tomorrow night, she felt her blood rush across her face as Sara was about to live her dream…

 

 

 

  Tombstones littered the landscape which seemed to go on forever, most dating to the 1700s; the names were etched of old English style. A few times she paused to admire the etchings. Deeper into the cemetery she continued steady on until she turned to look back, though no longer could she see the entrance, she swallowed hard, “Almost there”.

 

 

Slowly moving inward she came upon a place where old crypts scattered the area, she looked about to see if any of then would be the one she searched for but realized not. She continued on with only a flashlight to show her way. As she did she would hear what sounded of footsteps behind and occasion she would stop to take a look around but found nothing, “Probably just the wind”, “Yeah just the wind”.

 

On this night the moon was bright orange and fullest she had ever seen as it cast shadows on the landscape. She looked up and stared, “Witches Moon”, she smiled.

 

Suddenly she saw a glow coming from the hillside at the backside of the cemetery. As she approached closer she could tell it came from a tangle of weeds and vines, her heart pounded… “I found it! Oh God I found it!”

 

It lay hidden within a growth of twisted Oaks and Weeds. The doors had cathedral style windows and were made of heavy steel. She could see a glow of light flickering from the windows; she stood behind an old Oak tree watching for a spell.

 

Her inner voice started talking again; she was contemplating her sanity, “Oh God Help Me!”

 

Just then a shadow streaked from the corner of her right eyesight towards the direction in front of the crypt, she jumped. One of the heavy doors seemed to move slightly but she ignored it as only her imagination. She entered the path of overgrown cobblestone steps climbing before it and began pushing aside the tangle of weeds and vines covering the doors. On the front of each door was an embedded shield emblem of a ‘Winged Dragon upon a Cross’ with large iron loops for handles. Sara reached for one of the large loop iron handles and pulled with all of her strength. The door resisted with age and squealed open as spider webs tore away with a rush of dusty air. She choked trying to catch her breath from the rotting smell permeating from inside. She squeezed through the partially open door then slowly she crept as goose bumps crawled her arms. She could feel her hair stand in electric fear while her hands began shaking in the cold air. Now inside the foyer she observed the light emanating from a stairway descending downward. She leaned over and peered down the long stairway, she could see no end only the flickering light cast upon the wet steps. Ears pounding she descended down slowly, her breath was showing in the cold air, it was if she were traveling into the bowels of hell. The atmosphere smelled of mold and mildew mixed with rotting flesh, she gagged a few times. She counted each landing as she descended; ten and she was now several stories below ground and still going. The light brightened with each step, she turned and looked up seeing nothing but blackness behind her, she continued until finally she found the dungeon.

 

There before her it laid, an old weathered casket again with an embedded shield of a ‘Winged Dragon upon a Cross’.

 

 Upon the wall ledges surrounding the room were four lit candles flickering with a fifth one lit upon the casket. The lid was partly open leaving a crack of air. She approached in tremors then pausing she stood motionless listening, suddenly hearing a breath faint, slowly she continued to the side of the casket. Sara began to whisper, “Oh my lord Count Radu Dracula I have prayed that we may join together for eternity”…

 

Pushing the lid aside it fell to the floor, her eyes found the curious treasure as before her slept this beautiful creature peacefully, with his hands lying upon his chest.

 

“Oh my lord” “You are the true Radu Dracula the Handsome”… “So Beautiful”…

 

The myth was true; she thought as she gazed upon the creature, he seemed to comfort her in calm. Entranced, her wish for eternity would soon come true, she smiled…

 

Suddenly it jumped to a sitting position, rasping, fangs hissed a warning as she jumped back in fright.

“No”, “No”, “I’m here to become your disciple”, “Please Noooo!”.

 

She stood frozen stiff, paralyzed before it, her eyes transfixed. It arose without touching the ground, floating slowly and then pouncing to its prey clutching her within its grip. Its eyes focused on her jugular vein pulsing, its hand ripped the buttons from her blouse, cleavage ivory pure white shown as her teardrops fell upon her breasts. It moved its lips against hers, she gasped for air, and then down towards her neck it sank its teeth puncturing her carotid artery, droplets of blood streamed, her toes lifted from the ground as she became limp in its arms. Her head fell back looking upwards at the dungeon ceiling, long black hair flowing, her pupils large began to disappear shrinking into infinity.

 

Her body fell limp upon the floor…

 

Her life was dissolved...

 

She was no more...

 

“She had became the feast”…

  

It turned becoming a shadow flashing out into the night…

 

 

 

The End

 

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

"Suddenly it jumped to a sitting position, rasping, f**s hissed a warning as she jumped back in fright." I think you mean FANGS unless he is surrounded by a gay entourage....(laughing so hard) ANYWAY...this was an AWESOME horror tale and I loved it. It's great to read a short so powerful, believable (almost) and well constructed. Thanks ever so much for sharing it. I love a good horror tale.

[Lydia Shutter]

Your thoughts flowed well in this tale of horror. The imagery was so vivid, I could picture the scene and felt myself gasping as she stood frozen in the face of the monster. Well written. Lydi**

[V. K. Harris]

Enjoy... ;)