Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.
Dracula and Avram have been hidden in a secret underground room by Gunther so they won't be found by the villagers. While they demand to know what happened to Bogdan and Doina, Dracula is kind of freaking out. See what's happening in this chapter of Dracula. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
The
priest’s last words echoing in his head, Dracula rose abruptly from the questionable
comfort of the chest and began to pace about the limited interior of this claustrophobic
chamber. His thoughts turned inward to another time and place, the present
momentarily forgotten. Only Avram’s
agitated voice drew him abruptly from his somber revery.
“What is
going on? I know you can hear what they’re saying, but I cannot!”
The
vampire paused mid-stride to listen once more to what was happening above them
before replying. “Your friend just told everyone that the blacksmith killed his
wife and that he also brought about his own death.”
“That is
basically true. Do you think they believe him?”
Dracula
shrugged before he realized Avram couldn’t see his gesture in the darkness. “So
far as I can tell, it seems they do. For how long remains to be seen. I had my
misgivings about your friend, Avram, but I must say that for a priest, this one
is not so bad.” Having said this, he began to take the measure of the room once
more through the medium of his steps. It was not the darkness but the size of
this almost tomblike enclosure that was the cause of his anxiety. He paced the
perimeter as if to assure himself that the walls were not going to close in
upon him anytime soon. He knew there were those would be surprised at this
unexpected phobia, taking into consideration what he was. But they had no idea
what he had been through, albeit years ago. Avram’s sudden grasp upon his arm
caught him by surprise and forced him to stand still, although he could have
easily torn himself from the other man’s grip.
“Why don’t
you finish that thought, Nico?” Avram’s tone sounded more relaxed, almost
playful, in contrast to Dracula’s growing disquietude.
“What do
you mean?” Dracula pretended ignorance.
“You know
what I mean.” He mimicked Dracula’s voice—rather accurately, the vampire had to
admit. “And you, Avram, are not so bad for a Jew. You’ve told me that before,
you know.”
Dracula
rolled his eyes. He could see Avram’s wry smile, despite the darkness. Trust
him to remember such remarks. Sometimes the man’s excellent memory was a
blessing, other times more of a curse. “To be honest, I usually forget that
you’re a Jew. Not like either one of us practices the religion he was born
into.”
“No, but it’s
never mattered to you, either. And you’ve never treated me poorly because of
it. For that, I am grateful. Come, sit down. I can’t keep track of you in the
dark.”
“And why
should you wish to?” Dracula argued, even as he complied with Avram’s request
and seated himself beside him once more.
“So, this
church. You are very familiar with it, no?” Avram changed the subject, as if
the answer to his employer’s question was too obvious to need to be stated.
“Well,
yes. I attended the church many years ago, with my family.” Dracula didn’t
discuss his family often, or at all. Of course they were long dead. “But not
for many years. You know that.”
“That is
true, I do. I assume you were not aware of this space beneath the floor before
this, or its purpose in existing?”
“No, not
at all.” Dracula fought the impulse to begin to pace again. He’d been in worse
places and had survived. He would do the same now.
“So, were
you baptized here? Did the priest sprinkle water on your little baby head? Did
he say bless this tiny vampire child?”
Dracula
laughed so hard he snorted. “Of course, not. You are so ridiculous sometimes,
Avram. Everything was done according to tradition, naturally. My father… he
supported the church all throughout his lifetime. Everything he did, his very
identity, were all tied up with his need to be praised by the church. He hated
the infidels who held our country hostage for so long, and he died long before
the Austrians annexed everything, so he never had to endure Habsburg rule. And
what did he get for his loyalty? Only a worthless son.”
* * * *
Avram was
shocked by what he was hearing. Nico had never spoken this way before. In fact,
he never spoke about his parents, avoiding any references to them or to his
youth. Anything prior to his becoming what he was. Even that particular story
had never been revealed. Naturally,
Avram had never met the older Draculas, they having died many years before he
was even born. Avram had always assumed they’d been a typical family, although
his experience with such was limited, his own parents being killed when he was
very young. And he’d certainly never heard Dracula speak of himself in such a
deprecating way. To be honest, the vampire had a great vanity, one he loved to
have stroked by as many people as possible.
Worthless?
Where had that come from?
“Nicolae
Constantin Dracula, why are you talking such nonsense?” he expostulated. “You
need to stop that this instant. What is—” Before he could finish the question,
he heard the floor above creaking and the moment had passed.
to be continued
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