On a dark Hallows's Eve, a young 24 year-old-looking women was walking home, blissfully unaware of the oncoming nightmares she had been trying to outrun.
Cynthia Rose Wilson was walking home late at night, her long blonde hair flying behind her and her vibrant blue-contacted eyes staring in front of her. She was on her way home after a long night at her night school.
Almost in another world, it seemed, was the great Ian Dracul with his cropped black hair and piercing red eyes. He was standing in his suave black suit, which seemed extremely outdated in the world of fashion, with his ever loyal companion of centuries, Grim Stant who had white-streaked black hair and, like his master, was extremely tall for his exceeding age.
"There she is, Grim, after all this time." Ian spoke, his voice sounding with a mixture of emotions.
"Yes, Master, it shall be a joy to see her again." Grim replied, in his ever well-mannered way.
On her long walk home from her night classes, Cynthia stops in a park to sit and stare at the blood moon that was illuminating the sky.
"What a beautiful night it is tonight, the moon reminds me of his eyes"" she sighed in content.
Cynthia was completely unaware of the predator-like eyes watching her from the alley. She felt completely, blissfully alone until two men stepped out of the dark alley. One man was short and slightly rounded while the other was tall and muscled. They stepped out of the darkness with a menacing look that should have scared Cynthia out of her wits. Cynthia just looked at the two men and smiled, "What can I help you two gentlemen with on this beautiful night?"
"Gentlemen," the short man laughed in a gruff voice, "you hear that Ralph, she just called us gentlemen!"
"Ya, I heard her Frank," Ralph stated in a deep, dumb voice, then directed his attention back to Cynthia, "we aint gentlemen, lady, now give us your cash and ya won't get dead, got it?"
"Excuse me, but what did you just say to the young lady?" a voice spoke from out of the same darkness the two Neanderthal-like men had come from. Looking closer, Cynthia could see that the voice was coming from two bright red orbs.
"How did you find me, Ian?" Cynthia demands.
"Why hello, my love, it is so good to see you after all this time. How long has it been now? Almost a hundred years I would think, much too long. You look so different, I see you have dyed your hair and you are wearing colored contacts now." Ian calmly states as he steps out of the shadows with Grim not far behind.
"Hello, milady, very good to see you again," Grim pleasantly adds in his polite manner.
"Hello Grim, Ian. I was just on my way. Now if you two kind gentlemen would excuse me, I must be off. And I shall thank you, Ian, to stay away from me. Otherwise, that won't be the only scar you will sport on that oh-so-pretty face of yours," Cynthia states politely. Cynthia then turns and begins to walk away from the four men.
"Where the hell do you think you're going, lady?" Ralph yells, grabbing Cynthia's wrist roughly and jerking her back.
Suddenly, almost like lightning, Ian is on Ralph. He tears Ralph away from Cynthia and slams him to the ground with a sudden ferocity. "And what right do you think you have to touch such a dear beautiful lady like that, scoundrel?" Ian growls with an immense anger, "you have none, and now you shall have nothing." And just like that, Ralph is lying on the ground, neck twisted at an odd angle, completely devoid of all blood. Ian looks up at Cynthia, blood glinting off of his now sharpened canine teeth. "Now, my love let us go back to our home that my father left for me to share with you."
"I will not go anywhere with you. I have a husband. If you come anywhere near me, he will.."
"Ah, yes. Henry, isn't it?" Ian interrupts, "I'm afraid I got a bit angry when I went to your home and he tried to stake me." Almost immediately after this is said, Cynthia lets out a low growl and breaks into a run. She had no intention of going back to Ian's side, no matter how much she loved him. She could not handle going back to all that being with him entailed, the bloody slaughter of innocent people. But as she runs, she trips over a crack in the sidewalk and hits her head, knocking her into a state of unconsciousness.
"When will she wake up, Grim? It has been five days!" Ian yelled angrily. "I want her to awaken so we can be married like we were to be a century ago!"
"Master, what if she does not wish to be married to you as she did then? She did run away with that foul hunter."
"She cannot deny how she feels for me, Grim. She will come back to my side; we are destined to be together for all of eternity. Nothing will tear us apart again."
Cynthia awakens to the sweet sound of Ian's voice. "Ian?"
"My love, you're awake!" Ian exclaims in pure happiness.
"Milady, you look famished. Would you like something to eat? I do believe we have some blood in the cellar."
"No, thank-you Grim, it is very kind of you to offer." Cynthia states politely.
"Are you sure, Milady? Is there anything you need?"
"I'm sure you are famished, Cynthia. I do remember your cute little "vegetarian" diet. I do believe we have some of that "human" food you liked to eat. Grim and I shall go and check for you, my love." And with that, Grim bows deeply as Ian kisses Cynthia's hand gently, like the gentleman he is, and then they both sweep out of the room.
"I found you some food, and Grim prepared it. I hope it suits you, my love," Ian states, walking into the room carrying a plate of spaghetti. He directs his attention to Cynthia's clothing, taking in her body, "Ahh Cynthia, I see you've found some of your old dresses. You look even more beautiful in them then you used to. That red looks exquisite on you, love."
"Ian! You scared me half to life!" Cynthia exclaims, blushing, while holding a hand over chest. "I'm sorry, my love. I am glad you are getting accustomed to life here again. While you eat, I believe we should discuss our marital situation," Ian smiles out, setting the plate of spaghetti down on a small, vintage table. Cynthia sits down at the table and begins daintily eating her meal.
"Ian! This is delicious! I must thank Grim for this delightful meal."
"Yes, my love, I will send him your praise. Now about our marriage""
"Marriage? You still wish to be married?"
"Yes, of course!"
"Ian, I will not marry you. I am not going to stay here." Cynthia states calmly.
"But..but why not, my love? Do you not love me as you once did?" Ian questions quietly.
"Ian! How could you ask such a thing!? Of course I still love you, I never stopped. Seeing you again has nearly made my frozen heart begin to beat again"but I do not wish to live the way you do, the way our kind is accustomed."
"Than I shall live however you would wish, Cynthia. I would thrust a wooden stake through my cold heart for you, if it would make you happy."
"Ian..I..I will marry you, as long as there is no more innocent blood taken in through your sweet lips."
"Oh Cynthia! You have no idea how happy that makes me!" Ian lifts Cynthia up and twirls her around, joyfully laughing. As he puts her down, he stares deeply into her onyx-colored eyes, the contacts now gone. He leans down and captures her lips in a sweet, passionate kiss as the sun begins to rise. "Sleep well, my love. I shall return to you at sunset and we will plan our joyous occasion." He kisses Cynthia chastely on the lips and forehead and walks out of the room.
"Oh Ian...you have placed me in such a tawdry situation.." Cynthia sighs, staring out her gothic-styled window for a moment. She closes her crimson, silk curtains just as the first light of day peaks through the glass. Quickly, Cynthia changes into a silken black nightgown, climbs into her extravagant bed and falls into a deep slumber.
The next night comes and Cynthia awakens to a plate of beautifully prepared chocolate-chip pancakes sitting on her table, their sweet smell taking over her senses. "Those smell delicious," she happily states, with a small smile. Cynthia walks over to the pancakes and sits down to eat. As she eats, there is a soft, polite knock at the door. "Come in."
"Hello, my dear, I hope you slept well. Are your pancakes to your liking?"
"Ian! They're delicious! Grim did a magnificent job once again." Cynthia says pleasantly. Ian walks over to her closed curtains, and pulls them open, revealing a beautiful blood moon. "That's odd," Cynthia begins, staring out at the moon, "I have never seen a blood moon two nights in a row like this, have you Ian?"
"Nor have I, love. It is beautiful, though, isn't it?"
"Yes, quite." Cynthia continues eating her breakfast, whilst staring at Ian's handsome, scarred face. As she admires him, she remembers the day she ran from him like it was yesterday, when in reality, it had been almost a hundred years.
It began as any other night. Ian and Cynthia were snuggled up in their bed together, discussing their upcoming wedding. The two lovers were quite content, but one thing was sitting heavily in Cynthia's mind. It was customary, when getting married, for the groom to drink the blood of a virgin and a newborn babe. If he did not, it was said to be extremely bad luck for the marriage. Cynthia had never been much of a fan of drinking blood, let alone an innocent girl's and baby's, so of course she had tried to talk Ian into forgetting that custom. However, Ian would not have it, him being the last of Dracula's blood line. He was adamant about fulfilling this custom, as his ancestors would have liked. Both Cynthia and Ian were getting increasingly angry about this topic of discussion, so on this particular night, they got into quite an argument. They were both yelling at the top of their lungs, arguing their opinions. Finally, Cynthia had had enough.
"That's it! We no longer need to have this discussion because we aren't getting married, Ian!"
"Fine..Wait! What? My love..please.." Ian pleaded, but to no avail. Cynthia was already gathering a few essential things, ready to make her leave. She reached the door knob, all the while Ian was begging for her to change her mind. "Cynthia! You are not leaving me! I love you, and you love me. We shouldn't let something as simple as this come between us." Ian grabs her wrist and pulls her back to him. Cynthia swings around and slaps her long-nailed hand across Ian's cheek, making a long, deep gash open on his face.
"Simple?! We are talking about two human lives! Worse yet, two lives that have barely had a chance to live! Two lives that have never done anything wrong! This is not simple, Ian! Good bye!" Cynthia slams their bedroom door shut and flees the castle in a hurry. She travels for some time until she comes upon Florence, Italy, where she decides to make her home for a few years.
Cynthia is awoken from her reverie by Ian's voice whispering her name. "I'm sorry, Ian. I was thinking. What were you saying?"
"I had asked you when you would like to have our wedding, love." Ian says, seemingly impatient at the thought of waiting any longer.
"Oh, give me some time, Ian. I have a lot of things to plan, you know," Cynthia chuckles.
"Yes, I know, my love. Well, I suppose I should go attend to my duties. I do hope you will be alright here by yourself for a few hours."
"Yes, yes. Of course, Ian. I'm not a child," Cynthia laughs, "I shall spend the day planning." Ian leans down and captures Cynthia's lips, whispering "I love you' into them as he kisses her. He then proceeds to walk out of the room, closing the door gently. Cynthia waits a few moments, to be sure Ian is gone, and proceeds to get dressed in beautiful black velvet gown. After getting dressed, Cynthia opens her door and begins to make her way down the familiar hallway to the dungeon area of the castle. Walking for about fifteen minutes, Cynthia comes upon a heavy, iron door. She opens the door with an effortless tug. As she walks inside, she is immediately hit with the sharp smell of day-old blood. She walks further inside and finds a few men, very ragged and worn, chained to the wall. Only one of the three men looks as though they are conscious. "Hello?" Cynthia inquires towards the man.
"Who? Who are you?" the man questions, fearfully. "Milady, you must run! A monster lives here! You should not be here!" the man screams at Cynthia. Cynthia lights a candle so she may get a better look at this poor man; however, this also allows him to get a better look at her pale, flawless skin and bright blood-lusting red eyes. "No! You are"you're one of them! You're a monster!!" The young man flails and screams.
"Please, sir. I beg of you to calm yourself." Cynthia kneels down so she is at the man's height level. "I am not here to harm you; I am here to help you escape from this dreadful place." The man quiets down, and looks into Cynthia's eyes, which have now turned back to their onyx color. "Thank-you, sir. Now listen to me, I will come back again at sunrise to release you for it is not safe for you to be venturing in the night. Do you understand?" The man stares, blue eyes stricken with fear, over Cynthia's shoulder. "What is it, sir?" Cynthia turns around and sees Ian standing over her with a gleam in his eye.
"Cynthia, my love, why are you telling this murderer you will set him free?"
"Murderer? What do you mean, Ian?" Cynthia looks at the man, "Sir, please tell me what he means."
"He..it lies! I am no murderer! It is the murderer! Do you not see the bodies strewn here, my kind lady? Please help me!" The man exclaims.
"Cynthia, this man..he murdered many innocent people in this land. This is his punishment. I am no longer taking innocent blood. I am now taking only the blood of those who have committed a wrongdoing, as you wished." Ian explains calmly to her.
"Sir," Cynthia begins, addressing the man, "is what Ian says true? Are you a murderer?" The man begins to open his mouth to defend, but Cynthia cuts him off, "and I should hope you will not lie to me."
"It is true, milady..I have indeed killed many." The man replies, glumly.
"Than I am sorry, sir, but I can be of no assistance to you." That being said, Cynthia stands and walks out of the dungeon. She slowly walks to the library room and pulls out a few of her favorite books. Ian joins her in the library.
"My love..I am sorry"" Ian begins, not seeming to know what else to say.
"The blood of the guilty is what you have been drinking, as of lately?"
"Yes, Cynthia. Since you left, I have not had a drop of innocent blood."
"Than you should have no argument with not drinking a babe's and virgin's blood for our wedding, am I correct?"
"Love, that is different...that is an ancient custom which must be performed. After the ceremony, I swear no more innocent blood will touch my lips."
"I refuse to marry you until that bloody custom is no longer part of our ceremony."
"Cynthia, please! I must!" Cynthia stands with her books and walks out of the library, up to her room. Upon reaching her room, she sets the books on her bedside table. Cynthia opens her wardrobe and pulls out her beautiful black and red satin wedding dress. She admires it for a moment before putting it on. For a moment, she almost wishes she were able to see her reflection in a mirror, so she might admire herself in the beautiful gown. She is broken out of this impossible desire by a soft knocking at her door. Cynthia glides over to her balcony, overlooking the rocky shoreline. The knocking comes again, this time, however, joined with a voice. "Cynthia? Love? Are you in there? Please let me in, I am sorry."
"Come in," Cynthia says, just above a whisper, as she stares across the beautiful, but deadly landscape. She hears Ian come into the room and begin to talk, but she does not hear what he says. Out of the corner of her blood-shot eyes, she sees him reach the door to the balcony. "Ian..you know I love you, with everything that I have, correct?"
"Yes, love, I know this. Why do you ask? And why are you wearing your wedding dress?" Ian questions, his voice laced with immense worry.
"I hope you can forgive me for this.." Cynthia climbs up onto the ledge of her balcony and allows herself to fall forward. To Ian, this seems to happen almost in slow-motion. He is awe-struck by her beauty, unable to move even in this desperate time. After a few seconds, his paralysis wears off. He leaps over the edge after Cynthia, desperately reaching toward her outstretched hand. Once he grabs it, he pulls her close to him and kisses her with one hundred years of passion. The two lovers allow silent tears to fall from their eyes and a silent "I love you' to fall from their lips. The hit the shoreline, holding each other, destined to be together for all eternity.