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.
As Dracula and Avram stretch their legs, a storm is brewing, but where is Andrei? Or, as Dracula calls him, the idiot boatman. See what's happening in this week's chapter of Dracula. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
Whatever Dracula
might have been about to say became lost the next moment when a plaintive howl arose
from nearby, drawing his attention. He was no stranger to that particular sound
as packs of wolves were often to be found roaming near the castle, and it was
not unusual for him to interact with them during his nocturnal rambles. This
one appeared to be young and in distress, no doubt due to the impending storm.
Much like himself, wolves had keen senses, and a disturbance in the air could
be painful to them. Perhaps it had wandered from the safety of its elders, and
now cried its frustration.
He sensed
a movement among the trees, and his suspicion was confirmed at the sight of a small
gray wolf that hovered just within the shadows of the forest. A young male, he
surmised. He’d probably become separated from his pack, and now panic and the
impending weather had put him on edge. Beside him, he heard Avram’s gasp of
surprise as he no doubt caught sight of the creature. Dracula held up one hand
to allay any possible fears on the other man’s part before turning his full
attention to the wolf.
He was a
beautiful young animal, his white belly and lower part of his muzzle a stark
contrast to the gray fur that ran along his back. He howled again as another
clap of thunder reverberated in the darkening sky, closer than its predecessor.
He was shaking, confirming Dracula’s suspicions that he was unnerved by the
approaching storm.
Dracula
knelt in the damp grass, unmindful of the discomfort he’d previously disdained,
and spoke to the wolf softly in his own lyrical tongue, Romanian words of
comfort and strength. The young male took a tentative step out from the tree he
shielded behind. He cast wary glances toward Dracula and Avram, clearly unsure
of their intent. He was too young to have learned to fear or hate men and had
probably never interacted with any before. Avram stood still, doing nothing to
potentially frighten the young wolf.
Dracula
continued to beckon softly, holding his hand out in encouragement toward the
young one. The animal advanced slowly, cautiously, in the direction of the two
men, until at last he’d gained Dracula’s side. He stood with his head down in a
submissive posture, still trembling. The
vampire wrapped one arm about the wolf and murmured soothing sounds, at the
same time stroking his soft fur. With a final soft whimper, the wolf quieted
and nuzzled Dracula, as if sensing a kindred spirit.
He could
feel the beat of the wolf’s heart beneath his fingers as he continued to caress
the animal. He buried his face against his flank and listened to the steady
rhythm. Neither vampire nor wolf moved for a long moment. At last, Dracula drew
back, reluctantly. This young one’s pack was undoubtedly searching for him and
were probably nearby. He needed to rejoin them before something untoward
happened and innocent people were harmed.
He closed
his eyes and concentrated. Yes, the pack was nearby. He gave the young wolf a
final pat to send him on his way. “Go now,” he murmured. “Be safe”. The wolf
seemed reluctant, until he heard a familiar howl and turned toward the sound,
crying out in return. He gave Dracula a last nuzzle before loping in the
direction of his packmates.
“Need a
hand?”
Dracula’s
first instinct was to insist he needed no help. But instead, he grasped the
hand that had appeared before him and allowed Avram to help him to his feet. He
took a certain satisfaction in seeing the muck smeared on the odious clothing.
Avram noticed it too, clearly. He waited for the inevitable lecture on
cleanliness that was sure to include a diatribe on the trouble he was causing
to Avram and the intensive labor that would be required to rectify the problem.
But to his
surprise, Avram said, “I’ll wash these for you, Nico. In the meantime, I’ll get
clean clothes for you from the trunk.”
That
response was a much better one than he’d expected. “Thank you, Avram. I would
like that.”
“My
pleasure, bubeleh.” Avram unexpected reached up and pinched his cheek as
he spoke, his eyes alight with mischief. “I’d offer you a hot bath, if I could. We can
find one when we get to Vienna, before we go to the Palace. Although I’m sure
that woman wouldn’t object to a little schmutz, now would she?”
Dracula
lightly swatted Avram’s hand away, but he wasn’t annoyed, being long used to
his antics by now. “You are right, she probably would not object. But I would.”
“I
understand, Nico, trust me, I do.”
A bolt of
lightning illuminated the sky amidst rapidly approaching dark clouds, followed
after a few seconds by thunder.
“Where is
your idiot friend?” Dracula groused. “We should be on our way. If he does not
return soon, we shall take his miserable boat and be on our way without him.”
That would not be an ideal situation, though, as leaving the man behind would
probably lead to problems regarding the next stage of their journey.
Before
Avram could reply, the rumble of an approaching vehicle could be heard,
followed by the appearance of a wagon driven by the smuggler himself.
Finally.
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