Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series) (19 page)

“I began to loathe the day, for it meant my heart would go unfulfilled. Without him, living in his castle was excruciating; to feel his unnaturally chilling touch night after night, only to be alone with his servants and housekeepers day after day. I began to live for dusk. Every evening at the same exact hour, Vlad would come to me. I simply couldn’t exist without him. At the tender age of nineteen, I felt I’d lived a full lifetime each day that passed in his absence. Eventually I began walking around his immense castle against his wishes.

“His fortress was just north of Curtea de Arges in Romania. In those times it was called Poenari. The grand abode was menacing at first sight. An acropolis, it stood at the highest point of Bucharest, surrounded by extremely tall trees. The fortress of concrete, stone, and brick lay utterly impregnable to outsiders. Legend told of an abandoned citadel, its walls
thick and tall. It is the very one I speak of, and I assure you, it was no more desolate than this city of Alexandria is a ghost town. Its steps were steep and unforgiving to the foot. Harsh! The mouth of the edifice was a monstrosity.

“Some of the weather-beaten statues made of marble surrounding the front door were of angels. Some were of demons. One stood out among all others. In the center, just above the door, hung a beastly and grotesque bust of a three-headed canine of some sort. This creature had originated in the bowels of Hades. It found its final resting place above a gigantic door, fit for the Nephilim, long before recorded time. Just above the bust hung a cross, the one signifying the demise of the Apostle Peter. It hung upside down, bottom to heaven, top to hell. I remember closing my eyes and smashing my face between Vlad’s chest and arms as we approached for the first time by horse and carriage.

“The castle reminded me of a cathedral. Vibrant mosaics and paintings littered the walls. Frescos covered the apex of the round ceilings. Each picture was a portrait of a man resembling the man I loved. However, I thought them to be of relatives, for the clothing spoke of a different time.

“The hallways were wider than usual, as were the doors inside the castle. At every door stood a statue of a uniformed knight, wielding an iron sword. His manservants and maidens forbade me to continue my exploration though they were well aware of the affection their master lavished upon me and the consequences to them of making me unhappy. So they left me to my spoiled and immature vices, so a princess I truly became.

“Curiosity led me to explore rooms I hadn’t dared enter until then. I discovered a seemingly endless library. Wall after wall lined with books. A desk in the corner made of dark solid wood. A chair partially hidden by the desk. A quill and ink blotter lying beside a small jar of red ink next to a stack of documents, which I explored with a curious and untrusting eye.

“The top document was a ledger containing various entries. The documents below the ledger were land deeds drafted by a peculiarly acute, unnaturally steady hand. Every letter was identical from word to word,
sentence to sentence. The lettering resembled art more than script, all written by Vlad’s hand, no doubt. Vlad was an established businessman as well as the ex-ruler of these lands. His influence and power were a force. I was intrigued by his aptitude. Even though it didn’t at all seem possible, I began to miss him even more!

“I would have his maidens wash me just before sunset every day, after which I would lie without garment on his bed and await his arrival. It always startled me how he would seem to instantly appear in the blink of an eye, how his gaze would guide me to him with the slightest physical effort from me. Completely and utterly helpless I felt. He was my master.

“We went on in this manner for weeks until one early evening during Vlad’s absence, my brothers came for me. They entered Vlad’s castle with weapons of war, feverish anger, and contempt. Every manservant was slaughtered. Every maiden was killed without regard to the code of war. One by one, my three brothers and two cousins entered every room of the castle searching for Vlad. They took me and made me leave with them. I begged and pleaded for them to spare his life, but my cries fell on deaf ears. In their eyes was madness, all of them in a drunken stupor, with the exception of my oldest brother Mordekai, who was enraged by my disappearance coupled with the known duty of protection charged to the men.

“One door, at the very bottom of the castle, they had yet to open. The corridor leading to the door was dark, nearly devoid of all light. One of my cousins raised his torch in the darkness, and a sudden hush fell over all of the men. They stood there visibly shaken by what they saw. On the door was a smaller version of the bust from hell that was nestled at the apex of the front door. However, it was a thousand times more menacing at eye level and in close proximity to us, its mouth outstretched, bearing canines. Nevertheless, it didn’t serve its purpose to deter the will and desire of my brothers and cousins, for out of their temporary bewilderment came several attempts to break the boundary that stood between them and the unknown. All of them began kicking the door furiously.

“The enormous door was finally defeated, and a stench seeped through the cracked wood. Everyone covered their mouths as the door
swung open. Mordekai and the rest began coughing and gasping for fresh air. But their efforts were futile, for the air in this lower part of the castle was thick and rank with death. A cousin held out a flame to illuminate the room, which seemed to be a dungeon, a place of torture and captivity. Severed limbs, partial skulls, eyes, fingers, and every other despicably disgusting extremity originating from a human were strewn about, all in various states of decay. If there was a hell on earth, we had stumbled upon it!”

Pandora paused for a moment. The pacing ceased as she relived the frightful event. Her eyes glazed over, and she stared into the distance, her voice quivering, showing some semblance of her once-mortal life. She looked at me again and continued.

“I was too afraid to continue into the darkness but more afraid to stay behind as the flame and the footsteps progressed. Reluctantly I followed. We came upon a coffin. I was terrified of it! Mordekai and Jonathan began to pry open the lid with the hilts of their swords, and after a great struggle, the sealed coffin gave. My eyes closed tightly as my nose was assaulted by the odor. “God damn you!” Mordekai yelled. “Where are you, fiend?” his voice echoed within this dungeon.

“I slowly opened my eyes and cleared them of the tears blurring my vision. The room was empty, save for a familiar handkerchief that I had given to my beloved just the night before to wipe some dark red wine he had spilled while not in my presence, the reddish smudge still in plain view on the once pure white cloth. Suddenly one of my cousins, standing just to the right of me, was swept into the black abyss. My brothers rushed with their torches to where he had been standing, and nothing was there. He had simply vanished! Mordekai and Jonathan, along with my youngest brother and remaining cousin, called out to him, “Alexander! Alexander!” The call was loud and answered only by its echo, mocking all of us.

“Then another short and sharp cry came from Demetri, who was standing behind Jonathan in the shadow of the torch. We were not able to find him, either. The men, baffled, began to look at each other and around the room. There was nothing to be seen but plenty to be heard. Jonathan screamed Demetri’s name with a yell that was equally horrific
in magnitude as Demetri’s cry had been when the darkness took him. Once the echo of the chamber released Jonathan’s voice, we heard a strange noise—the sound of crunching or breaking. It sounded like the chewing of bone. My youngest brother, Lucian, ran toward the entrance, followed by Jonathan, who continued yelling for Lucian to stop. Then right before our eyes, Lucian was lifted into the air and into the shadows in the same manner as the others. We then heard something splatter. A gasp came from Jonathan. Mordekai raised his torch to find Jonathan turning around slowly to face us. He was covered in …”

Pandora paused again briefly, then continued.

“He was covered in blood. Lucian’s blood drenched Jonathan, covering his hair, face, chest, and arms, his mouth agape with his younger brother’s blood covering even his teeth. It was abhorrent. Mordekai swiftly grabbed my wrist and yelled, ‘Run!’ With this command, Jonathan turned and ran toward the door through which we had entered the room. We ran up the stairs, terrified of what followed. We couldn’t see what stalked us, but we could hear its footsteps. We were being chased by some beast. I could feel its breath on my neck. Mordekai dropped the flame, and in its extinguishing light I saw the face of a demon. I beheld the grotesque visage for less than a second, but as horrible as the beast was, it felt strangely familiar. With a shimmer of the evening sunlight at the top of the corridor, it was gone; it was only when we escaped through the front door of the castle that we realized Jonathan was gone, too.

“I tried desperately to free myself from Mordekai’s hold as I didn’t want to leave without Jonathan. I pleaded with him, but he tightened his grip on me and led me to one of the carriages waiting just beyond the drawbridge covering the moat.

“In that moment I took note of the unusual sunset. I remember the sun looked more red than yellow. It looked like a blood sun. The early evening sky disclosed the falling sun and the rising moon simultaneously. Though I’d seen countless sunsets prior to this one, I couldn’t remember their brilliance and luster as I did that evening.

“I also felt a presence watching us, following us outside the carriage. The horses must have felt it, too, for they were restless and disturbed.
The carriage wheels hurled with the speed of the two mares frantically escaping an evil that seemed relentless in its pursuit. We detoured through a passage known by the Ottomans that led to the southern tip of the vast mountainous regions surrounding the castle.

“When I came to the castle for the first time, it had been in the middle of the night. This was the first time I had actually looked upon the monstrous castle in the twilight. Any mortal would have easily been frightened by the mere sight of it. However, I could only think of the night when my prince would return to me and take me back to what I considered to be my new home, And though I feared the beast lurking beneath, my thoughts were completely mesmerized by my master. For his fortress was where I belonged.

“Finally we entered the Carpathians. The feeling of being watched never subsided. The carriage wheels continued furiously grinding against the cobblestone path beneath. I remember the thunderous smashing of the rocks beneath the hooves of the horses and my brother yelling for them to continue their feverish retreat, flailing the leather straps that kept him in command. He had lost all hope, save that of escaping with my life and his own.

“Mordekai and I arrived at my father’s home in Budapest as the moon stood at its highest. He had a look of despair, his mouth permanently ajar in total disbelief of the day’s events. His eyes told a tale of sorrow for our brothers and kinsmen who were lost to the darkness, lives taken by some ungodly creature on my behalf. A creature whose eyes resembled the eyes of my beloved prince. My prince, who only came to me at nightfall. My prince of darkness.

“Only after we were presumably safe inside, with all the doors locked, did Mordekai begin to cry. It was the first and last time I’d ever seen him cry in such manner, sobbing uncontrollably. His emotions overwhelmed him, and he was reduced to a mere child. What was strange to me was that I, too, had suffered great losses at the hands of a beast, but I only felt longing for my prince to come and get me. I hugged my brother around the neck as he sobbed. He was comforted by my gesture—and a gesture is all it ever was. My mind and soul were elsewhere. Had this tragedy befallen any other, they would surely be broken by the horror
of it and terrified that they might be next. But I felt nothing of the sort. I could only think of him. I know now that Vlad was within my mind, controlling my thoughts.

“My brother held me tight, but I was compelled to slip away to the window. There was a mist surrounding the base of the window ledge. It seemed to speak to me and instill in me an eerily familiar feeling of protection and love. It was not just any love. It was the greatest love. My prince was near, and I surrendered to his call. The mist engulfed me, and I felt Vlad’s arms. I could hear his heartbeat. Though surreal, it was impossible to turn away from it. I closed my eyes and heard my name. Pandora. ‘Take me with you, my prince,’ I called out. ‘Take me with you.’

“I opened my eyes, and my prince was holding me flesh to flesh. I was in his arms once again. Somehow the man I loved every night for weeks had materialized within the mist. I didn’t care that this defied logic. Whatever sorcery was present, I welcomed it. I only cared for that moment.

“Mordekai noticed our embrace just outside the window and gathered his strength and sword once more. Vlad was looking directly into my eyes when my brother lunged at him, stabbing Vlad in the shoulder. Vlad swung his hand with such power and fury that he knocked my brother against the stone wall. Mordekai slid helplessly to the ground. Bruised and broken, my brother’s body went limp, and his eyes lost their glimmer. He died.

“Vlad’s expression changed. His eyes never left me as he struck and killed my brother, and I watched his expression change from one of fury to one of sorrow. At first I thought Vlad’s look of sorrow was due to this wound, but he seemed unfazed by the blade protruding from him. Still holding me, he bent his arm into an unnatural position and slowly began to remove the blade. It was then I fully realized the magnitude of my brother’s dying blow. An excruciating pain befell me as Vlad continued to remove the blade. I knew that I, too, had been deeply wounded. I didn’t have to look down at it. I only had to look in Vlad’s eyes. They told the story of my mortality.

“The blade made a sharp clang as it hit the loose stones on the ground.
I let out a gasp. I could feel the blood flowing internally. Vlad knew I was bleeding inside. He slightly withdrew himself from me. The sight of my wound seemed to raise fire in his eyes. This fire, however, wasn’t the look of anger. It was the look of lust.