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The great bat swooped into the doorway of the crypt fluttered about the dark interior. It hovered over the body of the girl and then shimmered. A second later the Count dropped effortlessly to the floor.
He looked at the ravaged bodies of the two women. They were both covered in bruises and scratches were bleeding liberally from between their legs. The breasts of the older woman were dark with bruises, but they were relatively untouched compared to what had been done to girl. Her breasts were marked with deep puncture wounds, almost as if someone had slashed at them with a knife.
The Count curled his lip in disgust. Such brutality. And for what? To destroy such beauty was sacrilege. He must try to save them, but he knew that he could not do it without building up his life force.
“I’m not strong enough for this,” he thought. “I can’t keep giving up my strength to save these women. I must take them somewhere safe until I restore my powers.”
Ignoring the blood, he lifted the older woman and hefted her over his shoulder. Then as gently as he could he placed the girl over his other shoulder and started up the stairs. Neither woman so much as moaned as he carried them step by step toward the top of the staircase.
He stopped halfway up. The tower was where he would have preferred to take them, but it was possible they might be looked for there. It was best to get them right out of the castle and he already had the perfect place picked out.
Still holding the two unconscious women he manipulated one of the stones in the wall revealing one the castle’s ubiquitous secret passages. “One of these days I’m going to have most of them blocked off,” he thought. “The castle is beginning to resemble a Swiss cheese.”
He entered the hidden passage and moved off through the darkness. There was no light, but he didn’t need any. The tunnel sloped steadily down moving taking him far below the foundations of the castle until he reached a large subterranean chamber. He headed toward a faint light, flickering in the darkness. Here at least the two women might be safe.
Two figures got to their feet as he entered the circle of firelight and then went down on their hands and knees. “Get up,” he ordered, “we don’t have time for that. Is the camp set up yet?”
The woodcutter knuckled his forehead, but it was the girl who answered. “Everything is as you asked, my lord,” she bowed slightly, revealing a bosom that would be the delight of any man. She would make someone a fine wife someday provided she could be kept out of the hands of the Nazis.
“Help me with them then,” the Count ordered. He lowered the girl to the stone floor of the cavern and as the father and daughter moved to take her he shifted the older woman from his shoulder to his arms and carried her to the area beyond the fire.
He saw that the two Gypsies had indeed done as he had asked. A harem-like sleeping area consisting of bedding, cushions, and numerous hangings provided a comfortable resting place. It must have taken Victor and the Gypsies many trips to properly outfit the area. As gently as if he was putting a child to bed, he lowered the woman onto the cushions, ignoring the fact that her body was splattered with her own blood and sweat. The Gypsies set the girl beside her. Rising, the Count looked one more time at the battered bodies of the two women and then he spoke to the Gypsies.
“I will be back in a short while. Right now there is something I must attend to. Make sure that the two women are cleaned up. I expect them to be alive when I return. If not I will be most displeased.”
Even in the uncertain light of the fire he could see the faces of the father and daughter blanche in fear. He hated to have to threaten them, but he wanted to be certain that the two women would be well cared for until he returned. Turning, he stepped away from the fire and into the darkness of the cavern. Once clear of the fire his image shifted again, suddenly changing to that of a large black wolf. In this form he loped along the floor of the cavern, choosing a different route from the one he had taken. He needed to rebuild his strength if he was to help the two injured women and there was only one way he could do that quickly, distasteful as it might be.
Through a cleft in the rocks the wolf emerged into the cold of the Romanian night. Moving silently through the deep snow he shifted around to the castle gates. Selecting a place in a grove of pine trees he settled down to wait. Sooner or later someone would come through those gates and when they did he would be waiting.
“What did you expect?” Keitel sneered. “Did you really think you could force a vampire to do what you wanted?”
“He will find that is does not pay to defy me,” von Jagger raged. “There are other ways to punish him for his treachery. Even as we speak a squad of army engineers is on the way here with demolition charges. By tomorrow the Count’s precious castle will be nothing more than a heap of rubble. In the meantime we are prepared for any further deceit.”
“You really think that bullets dipped in silver iodide will halt a vampire?”
“The Reich would not advance me sufficient funds for solid silver,” von Jagger pouted, “however, I think they will do.”
Keitel could not help noticing that in spite of von Jagger’s assertions his eyes never left the door. He and his men were holed up in the top of the castle keep and had been ever since they had discovered the English spies missing and the dead SS guard at the foot of the crosses. Jagger had immediately sent for reinforcements, but unsure of their arrival had taken defensive measures to ensure his own safety.
Keitel had to agree that such measures were
justified. It had been foolish
to attempt to force the vampire’s cooperation in his own
lair. But van Jagger had been
adamant about taking over the Count’s castle and forcing his
cooperation. The plan had backfired
badly, especially after
The door opened suddenly. A white-faced SS guard dashed in, slamming the door behind him.
“Why have you left your post?” von Jagger growled.
“There’s something coming,” the soldier gasped. He was so frightened that he completely forgot to address von Jagger properly.
Immediately the other SS troops in the room assumed positions of readiness. Van Jagger and Keitel moved as far away from the door as they could without leaving the room. “We’re safe enough,” von Jagger said from his place of safety. “The doors are solid oak and are half a metre thick.”
The SS troops did not seem quite so confident. Every man present had his weapon trained on the door. For a few seconds nothing happened then the doors exploded inward, the heavy wooden locking bar snapping like a twig under some incredible force. The soldiers moved back stunned by the destruction of what they had supposed was an impenetrable barrier, but what happened next left them almost frozen in terror.
A demonic form surged into the room, moving so fast that few soldiers had time to even register its presence before it was upon them. Those that did fired their weapons, but their target was gone from their sights before they even squeezed the triggers. Then the room turned red with gore as the monstrous creature literally ripped the inhabitants of the room apart.
Those that could fled. Those that were too slow died. Fortunately von Jagger and Keitel had not been so confident in their defences that they had failed to leave themselves a bolt hole. While their underlings fought and died they disappeared through an exit that led by means of a twisting passage to the outer court. However, they did not stop there. Their command car was waiting, its engine already running. Leaping into the back seat they held tight as the driver gunned the engine and roared through the castle gates.
Von Jagger and Keitel let out their breath in a sigh of relief. They were completely unprepared for the dark form that leapt out of the darkness. The driver screamed just once before the huge black wolf ripped out his throat. Then it was von Jagger’s turn to scream as the car careened out of control, smashing through a screen of spruce before slamming into the trunk of an oak.
The impact threw von Jagger and Keitel out of the car. The deep snow helped to cushion their fall, but the wind was still knocked out of both of them. Both Nazis lay there for several seconds while terrifying thoughts ran through their minds. Gradually they regained control of their breathing and struggled to their feet. A few metres away was the bloody body of the SS driver. Of the soldier who had been in the back seat with them there was no sign. To their relief there was no sign of the black wolf either.
Von Jagger limped toward Keitel. His right leg hurt abominably, but at least he was still alive. “What the hell was that?” he asked. “It looked like a wolf”
Keitel swayed. Blood ran from his nose. Apparently he had smashed it against something when he was thrown from the car. “I don’t think it was a wolf,” he answered. His eyes darted into the darkness.
“It wasn’t.” Keitel and von Jagger almost voided themselves. The voice seemed to come from out of thin air and then the sinister figure of the Count appeared before them.
Von Jagger fumbled for his sidearm, as Keitel backed hurriedly away. “Keep back,” the SS commandant ordered. “My bullets are pure silver.”
“Are they?” the Count asked languidly, and then suddenly he disappeared. Von Jagger stared in disbelief as the vampire materialized in front of him and took the pistol from his hand. Contemptuously he removed the magazine and one at a time ejected the bullets into the snow.
“You have threatened me for the last time, Standartenführer” the Count said.
“What are you going to do?” von Jagger asked, his voice high-pitched in terror.
“Something I vowed never to do again,” the vampire replied, “until you came along.”
“No,” von Jagger whimpered, going down on his knees. “You can’t do this. The Reich will destroy you.”
“The Reich will never know,” the Count replied. “And now I have wasted enough time. I am needed elsewhere.” He lunged toward von Jagger. The Nazi commander had time for just one last scream.
The Count caught Keitel halfway back to the castle. The Nazi doctor turned at the last second as Rodna swooped down on him. He never had a chance.
Rodna feasted on the other two bodies before returning to where he had left the two women. As he left he looked toward the castle. It was quiet now; deathly quiet. He doubted that there was a single living soul left alive. That was something else he would have to attend to. In the meantime he had something urgent to do.
The Gypsies had done as he had asked. The two injured women were lying quietly under blankets. Even though they were barely breathing he could tell that they were still alive. As he moved the blanket to reveal their bodies he saw that they had been bathed and that the girl’s badly torn breasts had been bandaged. He knew, however, that too much of their life force had been sucked out of them. If they were to live he would have to heal them again as he had known he would have to. Fortunately, he had fed well. He could feel the life force of the Germans he had killed surging through him. He would pass it on to the two victims.
“Leave us, but stay close by,” he ordered the Gypsy father and daughter. They did not need a second invitation, gathering up their bedding and moving to a more distant part of the cave. He turned back to the two women.
For a few seconds he just gazed at them, drinking in their beauty. What he was about to do certainly was not unpleasant, but he did have certain moral reservations about it. The first time he had not asked, but that was because he had never thought he would have to do this again or would need anyone’s help. What had happened in the last few hours had changed everything.
He chose the older woman first, removing his clothing and laying his body next to hers. She lay as still as death, her life force very low. Gently he reached out his mind to hers.
Larra’s mind was dragged from a nightmare of pain and suffering. She was being held down and violated over and over again by an endless army of demons, her flesh mutilated by tooth and claw.
The voice calling her name was somehow familiar although she could not place where she had heard it before.
“Help me,” she gasped.
“I will,” the voice answered, but first there is something you must promise me.”
Larra slept. She knew she was asleep because she was floating gently over the countryside on the surface of a soft pink cloud. Soon she would awake. Her body was almost healed. Her violation by the vampire lord had almost resulted in her death. Only sex with the Count had reversed the process. Sex with a vampire was something that she was getting used to although she expected that if it happened too often it would be irreversibly habit-forming. The offer the vampire had offered her had not been hard to accept; besides he could have taken her without her consent as he had the first time. She lay back on the soft surface of the cloud. As she did so her mind turned to Melissa. Had the Count been able to save her companion?
Melissa was drowning in a pit of oil. Smooth sides slick with the slippery fluid rose around her. Just out of reach was the top of the pit, but every time she reached for it she slipped back, each time sinking deeper into the black ooze. She could feel her strength draining from her and knew that she couldn’t survive much longer.
Suddenly, a pale-skinned man appeared on the rim of the pit. He lowered his hand to her, but held it just out of reach.
Melissa strained to reach the hand of the man. There was something familiar about him, but in her mentally exhausted state, she could not quite place him. “I will help you,” the man said, “but you must promise me your help against the vampire lord.”
“I cannot help you,” Melissa moaned. “I’m dying.”
“Take my hand,” the Count replied. And Melissa did.
Larra awoke. Beside her Melissa stirred. She sat up as the girl opened her eyes. Confused, she looked around her. Except for the flames of a flickering campfire they were in total darkness and covered by only a thin blanket.
Larra clutched the blanket to her and moved closer to Melissa. “I had the strangest dream. Or was it a dream?”
Melissa shook her head as if trying to clear it of cobwebs. “If it was about having sex with a vampire then I think we shared a mutual experience.”
Both women looked up as a dark form blocked out the light of the fire. “Forgive me,” a deep voice said. “But I thought I should see if you are recovered.”
Larra moved protectively closer to Melissa. “I feel… Who are you?” she asked switching the topic.
“I am forgetting my manners. It has been a long time since I was in the presence of two such refined ladies. I am Count Rodna, lord of Castle Rodna.”
The Count stepped closer, allowing the firelight to illuminate his features. Both women inhaled quickly as they recognized the man they had made love to during their dream state.
“Then… what was that monster that…” Larra swallowed. “The monster in the crypt,” she finished softly.
“Ahh,” the Count murmured. “That was my ancestor. My ten times great grandfather. He is a vampire lord; the final hideous result of vampire evolution.”
“I don’t understand,” Larra said. She leaned forward slightly revealing the smooth upper curve of her breasts and then hurriedly pulled the blanket higher.
The Count seemed not to notice her slip. “Vampires evolve,” he explained. “Or at least we do if we continue our debauched lifestyle. Feeding on human blood causes changes in a vampire, turning us into monsters that live for nothing but blood and sex. Such creatures are the ultimate in vampire evolution – or the most degenerate, depending on your point of view.”
“And your point of view is?” Melissa asked.
“Until your arrival I had not tasted human blood in centuries. I expect you noticed my private herd of goats?”
“You drink the blood of goats?” Melissa gasped, appalled.
The Count smiled. “Are you a vegetarian, Melissa? Drinking their blood is no worse than eating their meat, and in any case I do not kill them. I select a new goat each day, giving the others several months to recover. When they are too old to provide me with sustenance I retire them to a farm in the next valley. They are allowed to die a natural death.”
“As for the rest of my life; until the Nazis and Hungarians showed up I was content to live quietly, hoping that the world would pass me by.”
“But if you live forever,” Melissa responded, “wouldn’t you soon die of boredom?”
The Count responded with a smile.
“You’d be surprised how easy it is to keep
busy. Just studying the ancient
classics in the original Greek and Latin has occupied me for the last few
decades. When I am finished I
will go on to English, German, and French
literature. I doubt that I will
soon run out of material. And
then there are my vineyards. After
a century of experimentation I have succeeded in producing what I modestly
believe is the finest vintage in
As the Count finished his story he noticed that both women, ignoring their state of undress although still holding the blankets about them had moved to the edge of the bed and were leaning toward him.
“My pardon, ladies,” the Count said, taking a step backward. “I had forgotten the residual power of a vampire’s charisma. As I said, it has been a long time. I will leave until you have fully recovered.”
“No, don’t go.”
Rodna’s eyes widened slightly. It was not easy to surprise a vampire, but both women had spoken simultaneously. “I think not,” he replied. “When I restored you to life, I imparted a good deal of my life force to each of you, and along with it imbued your minds with the power that all vampires have to bewitch their victims. In a few hours it will pass and you will once again be in complete control of your emotions.”
Melissa rose from the bed, allowing the blanket to drop. “I like my emotions fine the way they are, Count, and I would much prefer that you stay.”
A second latter Larra rose and stood beside her. The Count stood dumbfounded as he gazed at the two beauties. “I think,” he thought, “that I may have overdone it when I transferred my life force.”
Several hours later the Count rolled from the sweat soaked bed. The two women lay sated, perspiration glinting on their exquisite bodies. The younger woman seemed to be asleep, although he couldn’t be sure. It had taken all of his vampire stamina to satisfy her. The older woman regarded him silently, her magnificent violet eyes following him as he picked up his clothing. Pursing her full lips, she blew him a kiss.
“Tomorrow
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