VROLOK (35 page)

“Do you feel better?”

“I will never feel better, but I feel relieved that he will not be able to do this to any other child,” Csaba answered.

“I am glad he is dead and I am glad I killed him. If I could have caused him more pain I would have,” Istvan said firmly.

“I must ask you one last thing,” Isabella whispered.

“What?” Csaba responded.

“You must forget I was ever here.” There was a sudden explosion outside and Csaba and Istvan were distracted as the whole castle shook. Csaba immediately looked round to where Isabella had been standing, but she was already gone and they had already forgotten her.

Isabella climbed up to the battlements to watch the fighting. She saw Vlad and Bethlen leading the charge. A mixture of Slovaks, Turks and Hungarians loyal to Bethlen followed them. Her plan was certainly working. She considered it her greatest achievement yet. She had gotten rid of a tyrant and replaced him with a true Prince and if her new Prince fell short of his potential, she would always be watching him.

Isabella thrust herself off the battlements and flew towards Vlad. He had single-handedly killed hundreds and when Isabella stood by his side, the pair swept through Báthory’s army with ferocious and deathly speed. After a few hours a man ran from Báthory’s palace dragging Gábor’s body behind him. Gábor’s face was not recognizable but his royal seal was still on his finger. Bethlen’s army started to cheer; the battle had been won.

Isabella looked up from her current victim and smiled. She ran to Vlad and kissed him, placing her hands on his temple, but as she touched his face, she was able to read some of his thoughts and see his darkest secrets for the first time. She had become so skilled that Vlad could no longer block her out of his mind. She saw Kit, she saw Vlad talking to Thomas Walsingham influencing him. She saw all of it.

However, Kit’s murder was not his darkest crime. It was only the beginning of her vision. She was about to see much worse than this. Vlad was there the night Nicolae had died. When Katya had gone to get the sword he had poured the Dhampir’s blood on the blade so that the sword would slice through Nicolae’s neck. He had killed her Nicolae.

Isabella let go of Vlad’s face and backed away from him. Vlad knew at that moment he might never see Isabella again, for he had read her thoughts as she had kissed him. He felt her elation as the battle was over and for the first time he could see, for just an instant, how in love she was with him. Then he felt these feelings turn sour. He felt her utter devastation at what he had done to Kit and her complete loathing at what he had done to Nicolae. In that moment Vlad felt Isabella’s love turn to hatred. He knew as she backed away and became obscured by the celebrating troops that it might be the last time he would ever see her. She would not come back to him, not after this. He had only in the past felt a slight taste of her resolve to not see him again. Vlad fell to the ground and wept, blood red tears streaming from his eyes.

Isabella was distraught but there was one last thing she had to do. The following day she went to see Gabriel Bethlen as he sat on his new throne. Isabella approached him and curtsied.

“Prince,” Isabella started.

“The woman who made all this possible—I have to thank you.”

“I am not here to receive thanks,” Isabella said. “I just want you to make me a promise.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to bring tolerance back to this land. Do not get corrupted by the power you now have.”

“I won’t.”

“I hope you won’t, for I will be watching you.” Isabella left him with this. She kept her promise she did watch him and a few years later she visited him again when he was King of Hungary.

“I want you to relinquish this throne, Gabriel,” she began.

“Why?”

“It is too much power.”

“It’s not.”

“I am not here to argue with you. Go back and be Prince of Transylvania, and give Ferdinand the throne here. You do not need it. It has already corrupted you.”

“It hasn’t,” Gabriel protested.

“It has. Are you not planning to burn Anna Báthory at the stake?” At these words Gabriel knew she was right; he had been changed by his newfound power. “Let her go and relinquish the throne of Hungary.”

“I will.”

Gabriel went back to Transylvania and was a great and tolerant prince till the end of his days.

Isabella sat on a mountaintop in the middle of Carpathians; she could just about see the candlelight flickering in Vlad’s castle. She would never go back there. She sat staring off into the distance. Surely she had done enough, she thought, for fifty years. She had not killed anyone that she thought did not deserve it. She had avenged hundreds and probably saved hundreds. She wanted to know could she now die. Could she now find peace at last? Isabella stood and looked at the long drop at her feet and the rocks on the ground below. She threw herself off the top of the mountain. She did not control her motion as she could to save herself from injury. She hit the ground at a tremendous speed bashing her skull on a rock which knocked her unconscious.

She was awakened by someone dripping water on to her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked up at the man who was reviving her. Could it be? She thought. Isabella saw Nicolae’s handsome face looking down at her. Isabella was elated she had done enough; Nicolae had come to take her to heaven.

“Nicolae.”

“Yes,” he answered. “How did you know my name?”

“Nicolae, it is me,” Isabella grabbed his face and frantically started to kiss him. She stood and hugged him, not ever wanting to let him go.

“Nicolae, have you forgiven me?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you are talking about!” he said. Isabella hugged him tighter still. The moon was covered by a cloud and they were in total darkness. Isabella drew herself back from him. She placed her hands on his shoulders. She could not believe it…her Nicolae was standing in front of her.

She was right not to believe her own eyes. She noticed her fingers were starting to tremble. She had not fed in days; searing pain started to shoot through her body. Isabella could hardly stand it. She saw the bulging vein on this man’s neck. She couldn’t control herself; she plunged her teeth into the vein and drank. When the pain stopped Isabella let go and the young man fell to the ground. Isabella fell with him; what had she done? She had killed Nicolae again, she had watched him die. She had to do something; she couldn’t watch this again, even if it meant him hating her forever, as she feared it would. She slashed her wrist open and let him drink. As he drank she noticed his hair; it was not brown like Nicolae’s but black like her own. She then noticed his eyes; they were green but dark like hers, not clear and bright like Nicolae’s. Isabella realised in torment what she had done. She had not only killed her own descendant. She had made him into a Vampire.

WENN DU FRAU SIEHST, DENKE, ES SEI DER TEUFEL, DIESE IST EINE ART HOLLE
WHENEVER YOU SEE A WOMAN, THINK, IT IS THE DEVIL, THIS IS A HELLISH BREED 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Isabella waited for her descendant to awake. He opened his eyes in the early hours of the next morning.

“Can you hear me?” Isabella asked. The youth nodded.

“What happened?” he asked. Isabella hesitated. She didn‘t want to tell him what she had done.

“I thought you were Nicolae,” she said, obviously distraught.

“I am. How did you know my name?”

Isabella sighed. “You are named after an ancestor.”

“A distant one.”

“Has it been that long?” Isabella reflected.

“What is wrong with me? I feel different.”

“You
are
different,” Isabella responded.

“How, how am I different?” Nicolae looked up at Isabella. There was no anger or bitterness in this man’s face; he was an innocent. He looked at her and the emotion he was visibly expressing was trust. He so resembled Nicolae she didn’t want to immediately alter this look to one of hate, but she had to. She had to tell him what she had done.

“I have made you different,” Isabella began.

“How?” the young Nicolae asked again. Isabella hesitated. She needed more time. How could she possibly tell her own descendant who she was and what she had done to him? Unfortunately for Isabella, time was running out. She watched in trepidation as Nicolae’s fingers started to shake and his body started to contort and convulse in agonising pain. He needed to feed.

“What is happening to me?” Nicolae cried out. Isabella ran to get him food. She ran through the woods desperately listening for some sign of life. She heard horses—someone was travelling close by. Isabella approached; she saw a family. As it was a warm evening, they had fallen asleep underneath the stars. Isabella quickly ran around them touching each of their heads in turn, trying to see who had committed acts worthy of being mortally punished. She touched the father’s head first, nothing; he was a poor man but he hadn’t as much as stolen food to keep away his hunger, but when Isabella read the mother, it was quite different.

Leila had watched Istvan from afar, but when she heard he was going to marry someone else, she was devastated. She knew Csaba’s daughter, Ella, a pretty girl, but not good enough for her Istvan. When she heard Ella had been injured and the wedding had been delayed, she decided it was time for her to her tell Istvan how she felt.

Leila approached Istvan cautiously.

“Who’s there?” Istvan asked. He had been drinking constantly since Ella was hurt, trying to block out his own guilt. He blamed himself completely for what happened to her.

“Leila,” she answered softly.

“What are you doing here Leila?” Istvan asked. He was aware of her affection for him.

“I came to keep you company,” Leila said.

“I don’t want any company.”

“You need company…you need to talk to someone.” Istvan looked up at Leila.

“I do?” Istvan said, already exasperated by Leila’s presence.

“You do,” Leila affirmed, undeterred by Istvan’s attitude.

“I don’t feel like talking,” Istvan said through clenched teeth.

“Then I will just sit here with you.”

Istvan sighed but he lacked the energy to tell her to leave him. They sat quietly for a time until Leila caught Istvan looking at her. Istvan leaned in towards her, looking at her face, looking at her untarnished young face; she was looking back at him with only love. Istvan knew then that Leila adored him and as anyone knows, one of the greatest aphrodisiacs there is, is to feel completely adored by someone else. Sometimes even just for a moment this complete idolization can be intoxicating and contagious. Istvan then said something he should have never have uttered.

“Kiss me.”

Leila was overjoyed. She foolishly believed that it was really this easy. She kissed him so passionately that for that exquisite moment Istvan saw himself through her adoring eyes and he returned her affection fleetingly. Leila sat on his lap and Istvan pushed his hand up above the skirt of her dress. He wanted to feel something different than the guilt he felt over Ella. He wanted something or someone to eradicate the feeling, if only for a moment.

The next morning when Istvan awoke he was repulsed by his own actions. He had now betrayed his future wife—this was another cross for him to bear. Leila in turn was overjoyed; she thought that after the events of last night Istvan was sure to marry her instead.

“Good morning,” Leila said a glowing and hopeful smile upon her face.

“Get dressed,” Istvan snapped, taking his own guilt out on Leila.

“I suppose I should, but I just want to lie here a little longer.”

“Get dressed now. This should never have happened.”

“What are you talking about? It was meant to happen,” Leila said, not yet realising the brutal truth of the situation she was in.

“Meant to happen?” Istvan said. His brief infatuation with Leila was completely over. He now could not stand the sight of her; she was just a reminder of his betrayal of Ella.

“You love me,” Leila cried out in desperation.

“Love you? I don’t love you; I love Ella and only Ella. You were just a distraction when I needed it most.”

“Why are you saying these things? You love me!” Leila cried, pounding her fists on Istvan‘s chest. Istvan clutched her wrists to prevent her from striking him any more.

“I am surprised I can even remember your name,” he said, cruelly. He let her go. He had now delivered his final blow.

At this Leila lashed out at him again but Istvan was too strong for her and violently threw her back away from him. She struck the back of her head on the bed post. She was badly hurt but she would receive no sympathy from Istvan.

“Get dressed and get out!” he shouted. Leila quickly got dressed and ran from the room sobbing.

A few months later, Ella’s face had almost healed completely but Istvan’s wounds were still far from healed. He was still as guilt-ridden and morose as he had ever been. As Csaba watched the pair be married, he felt uneasy. Istvan had not been the same since Ella’s injury. Csaba was distracted from these thoughts as he saw a young woman running towards his daughter. He suddenly became frightened as he realised this woman was brandishing a knife.

Leila lunged forward and stabbed Ella through the heart. Ella was dead almost instantly. Istvan quickly took the knife from Leila and slashed Leila across the face with it, but he did not kill her. Overcome with grief he fell to the floor and lifted Ella up his arms, holding her close, not wanting to let her go. Leila, who was still holding her bloody cheek, was enraged and picked up the knife that had fallen to the floor from Istvan’s hand, plunging it into Istvan‘s back. He took a little longer to die but die he did. He slumped down on the ground looking at Ella, not wanting to take his eyes from her. She looked so beautiful so peaceful, that with his last ounce of energy, he placed his hand on her pale white skin and closed his eyes, never to look upon her again. The crowd was numbed by the events they had just witnessed. Leila was icily calm as she stood up and was escorted to prison.

Isabella had found her years later sleeping quietly with the man who had helped her escape. He loved her, but she was not capable of loving him back and had become a bitter and miserable woman with an unsightly scar on her face to be a constant reminder of Istvan‘s harsh rejection. Isabella thought that her crimes were monstrous enough and she carried her back to Nicolae for him to kill her and feed.

Nicolae did not hesitate. He was in too much pain and he bit down hard into Leila’s flesh. After Nicolae had finished he was still somewhat disoriented and Isabella took him to where she was staying, leaving Leila for dead.

Nicolae slept all that night and all through the next day. Isabella watched and waited for Nicolae to open his eyes again. He awoke with a jolt.

“How are you feeling?” Isabella asked.

“I had an awful dream; I dreamt I was a Vampire.”

Isabella shuddered. “You are,” she said coldly.

“I can‘t be.”

“You are a Vampire.”

Again Nicolae’s body started to convulse; he was hungry for the second time since his death. The pain suddenly made him remember the events of the previous night. He remembered with complete distaste.

“What sort of creature are you?” Nicolae asked.

“I have told you I am a Vrolok and now, so are you,” Isabella said, and went to take his hand, but Nicolae wrenched it away from her. His actions brought too many painful memories back to Isabella. Nicolae’s convulsions were getting worse. He needed to feed and quickly.

“What’s happening to me? What is this pain?” Nicolae screamed at Isabella.

“You need to feed,” Isabella answered him.

“Feed on what?”

“You know already…blood.” These words issued out of Isabella’s mouth like a death sentence. Nicolae was appalled to realise that he had been brought up to hate and despise the creature he was now forced to become. His pain was intensifying until he could stand it no longer.

“I have to kill someone to make this stop?” he stated through his anguish.

“Yes, but I have discovered that there are ways you can kill and keep your conscience clear,” Isabella tried to reassure him.

“I don’t need a creature like you telling me how to keep my conscious clear.” Nicolae struggled to his feet and ran from Isabella. However, Isabella was too fast for him. She grabbed his arm but he shrugged her off and threw her back, causing her to fall. Isabella lay where she fell, watching Nicolae as he ran out of her house. Isabella dragged herself up; she knew she had to follow him. She found him sitting by a dead body which he had obviously killed. “I couldn’t stand the pain anymore,” he whispered.

“I know, I understand.” Isabella again tried to put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. And again Nicolae shrank back away from her as if her slightest touch was completely repugnant to him.

“Don’t touch me… why did you do this to me?”

“It was an accident, I thought I was dead; I thought you were my husband for just an instant and then the pain started and I had to feed. Just the way you had to.”

“Why didn’t you just let me die?”

“I couldn’t watch you die again.”

“But I am not your husband; I am not your Nicolae.”

“You look so like him I couldn’t watch even a remnant of him die again.” Nicolae walked away from Isabella and watched the flickering lights of the village below.

“So who are you to me?”

“A distant ancestor, just like Nicolae.”

“At least we are keeping it in the family,” Nicolae said sarcastically.

Isabella smiled through her torment. There was a silence between the two of them. Isabella hoped by his last comment that he was not totally lost to her and saw her as something more than just a Vrolok.

Nicolae turned back towards the body and said, “Is this what my life is going to be from now on, waiting until the pain starts and then killing someone to suppress it?”

“It doesn’t have to be. I can see if people are decent—I only kill those that deserve to be killed.”

“What about me—did I deserve to be killed?”

“No, it was just a slip, a moment of madness.”

“You should have let me die,”

“I told you I couldn’t. Do you have any children?” Isabella asked.

“No, not yet. And now, not ever.”

Isabella was pleased that he did not have children and a wife of his own waiting for him to come home. She felt a little bit better at least knowing this.

“Can I go and see my mother and father just to tell them I am all right?” he asked.

“But you are not all right,” Isabella answered.

“I would like to see them one last time.”

“You are under no obligation to me. You can do what you want,” Isabella said. “I cannot stop you. Be warned though, your mother and father will not look at you the same way. Believe me, they are better off thinking you are dead.” There was a brief silence between the pair.