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Dracula: World of War- Part 7
🕑 Added 2022-06-13 17:02:00 +0000 UTCI landed in Europe three weeks later, without anyone ever finding out I was on board. While I was on the ship, I didn’t get much to eat, only a few rats and that was a last stich effort just so that I didn’t kill one of the crew. I must have looked like the walking dead because one night, just before landing, a crewman stumbled upon me while I was resting, something I had to do due to lack of nourishment, and ran away screaming, “El Diablo!” I had almost chased after him to keep him quiet, but I was far too weak. Instead, I changed hiding spots to a nice dark corner of the storage room they were keeping their good that they were transporting in. Once we landed, I made a hasty escape off the ship and immediately found my way to a farm where I… got my strength back… from some of the animals. I didn’t kill any, I might have left some of them feeling woozy though. After I could move again, I began hunting some for fitting prey. I started that night, in an abandoned part of the city’s dock yard. Within an hour I had already fed on four robbers and two men who reeked of the stench of morphine. I had seen them sell some to children, no more than fifteen years old, in an alley. I didn’t bother to hide the bodies that night as I didn’t plan on staying here for long. I simply left them to be discovered where they laid in the morning.
I left that city as soon as the sun rose, caught a train, I paid for it using some money I had taken from my prey, and headed for Germany. I arrived in the city of Berlin and started looking for work. I found it in the form of a blacksmith. I spent several years there, until local authorities started getting close to finding me and I made a quick getaway to Spain. There something quite strange happened. After spending around a year in Spain, I was getting close to uprooting local crime lord Pablo Rococo, but was stopped mere moments before when an older gentleman pulled out a stick and shot him with a bolt of lightning. I followed him for a full month before introducing myself. I waited outside an antique shop he owned for him to show up that morning. I saw him hobble up to the shop, unlock the door, and walk in. He wore a dark grey trench coat over lighter grey formal attire and a black shirt. He also had on a top hat and glasses that suited his large, twirled mustache. He was well dressed for such an older man; maybe around eighty.
I walked into his shop expecting to need to announce my arrival but instead was greeted with his shaky voice saying, “So, you’re finally introducing yourself, are you?” I admit to being rather surprised. “You’ve been following me all month, ever since I killed Morgan. Tell me, have you come for revenge for your master’s honor?” He said and pulled a stick out of the cane he was using to walk.
“I have neither any idea who Morgan is, nor the wish to fight you sir.” I explained in an attempt to calm him down. I had seen what he could do with a stick and did not wish to see if I were fast enough to dodge lightning that day. “I am here to find out what, or who, you are.”
He kept the stick pointed at me and said, “Hmm… an ally of Morgan would never deny being one, they are much to proud and afraid to ever do so. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are a powerful being who has been following me, so what is it you want?”
“I am Vladimir Dracula and I only want to speak to you.” I told him. As soon as I said my name, his grip on his stick tightened.
“I have heard that name before, in rumors and whispers throughout the past few hundred years. Your legends predate even my own, and none of them are good.” He said with a look in his eye that worried me. I raised my hands in front of my body as if talking to a rabid dog.
“Please sir, from the rumors you’ve apparently heard, would I have walked in the front door if I were here to do you harm?” He lowered his stick to his side but did not sheath it.
“I suppose you are correct, but that begs the question, why do you want to talk to me?”
“I saw what you did to that man, Pablo Rococo, and I wish to understand how it was done.” I explained to him and lowered my hands.
He looked at me interested and said, “I will make you a deal, a question and answer for the same in turn. I answer one of your questions if you do the same, deal?” I nodded in agreement.
His name was Merlin Dragoon, and he was a wizard. He explained that he used magic focused through his stick, called a wand, to form the lightning bolt that killed Pablo. He also explained that the man I thought was Pablo was actually an old enemy of his named Morgan La Fay. She was an evil sorceress who he had been fighting for centuries. He also claimed to have been born in the 1300’s and has been reincarnated several times, along with the legendary King Arthur.
“Now it’s your turn Vladimir, how have you, a normal man, gotten to be a being of such condensed magic?” He asked and took a sib of the tea he had. He called me normal because I looked it at the moment. I had eaten so many of Pablo’s men that I once again appeared as my true, or rather original, self. I told him my story, how I was a normal man once but was taken by the Bestia Krwi and changed forever. I told him how I spent years wondering from place to place, building empires, and watching them fall, until I grew disgusted with my own past actions and left for America to remake myself. I told him how I was driven out of the country and ended up here. He listened intently to my every word. Perhaps he was surprised to find a person older than him, or perhaps he was weary of having a man like me only a few feet from him without an army between us. After I finished telling my story, he closed his eyes and quietly sat, he appeared to be thinking and taking in the information.
“I approve of your desire to make up for the mistakes of your past, and though I do not approve of your methods, I admire your attempts to clean up the cities you take refuge in.” He finally said.
“I have another question for you Mr. Merlin.”
“Yes?” He asked.
“Would it be possible for me to use magic as you do?” I questioned.
“Perhaps, but it would depend on your natural affinity; your body’s natural magic.”
“How would I find that out?” He stood up and started walking over to the area behind his cash register. He asked for me to follow him. I did and from under the check-out counter he pulled a small box which held a few antiques. He reached inside and removed a small clear ball that was about the size of a pearl.
“With this,” he stated.
Confused, I asked, “will that teach me how to use this… magic, or will it only tell me my affinity?”
“It can only tell you your affinity, only practice and training can help you learn magic.” I picked up the ball from his outstretched wrinkled hand.
“What am I supposed to do with it?” I asked him as I looked through the clear orb with my right eye.
“Normally, it would take someone their entire lives to wield magic like I do, but you are different. You, Mr. Dracula, have been alive even longer than I, and you have gained extraordinary abilities, so your body has most likely already undergone some kind of magical metamorphosis. I would wager that you have already subconsciously attuned to your magical energy.” Merlin said stroking his long grey beard that went down past his neck. Then Merlin said, “You need to fill the ball with your magic. I do this by flowing magic from my hand and into the ball, but that would take a while to teach you.”
“Well, I’m open to suggestions.” I told him.
“This venom you told me about,” Merlin started to say, “how is it you inject it from your fangs into a person? Is there an organ inside of your mouth that does it?”
The question caught me off guard, “I do not know. I am forced to admit that I had never studied the event.”
“I suggest biting the orb and injecting your venom.”
“But won’t that break it?” I asked.
“No, it shouldn’t, that ball is hard when it needs to be and pliable when it needs to be.” He explained. I extended my fangs and fixed the orb between two of them. I bit down and felt a sensation like chewing on rubber before injecting my venom. After a moment I pulled the now oval shaped object from my mouth and watched as it began to glow three separate colors. Merlin’s eyes went wide with shock.
“My word, I have never seen such a thing!” he announced.
“What does it mean?”
“It means you have three natural magical affinities. Do you see the colors there?” He pointed at the oval. “This one, red, means Body Magic. This explains your tremendous strength and speed. This light green means Mind Magic, some use this to control or read minds, but it’s not the same for everyone.” Then Merlin grew much more serious and pointed at the final color. “This one, black, it means you have a natural affinity for Dark Magic, which explains your need for blood.” He sounded some combination of worried and angry when he said Dark Magic. I assumed it was due to his dealings with Morgan La Fay. Merlin, being a master of most forms of magic, flowed some Mind and Body Magic into me to show me how it felt, so that I would be able to recreate the feeling later. However, he refused to show me any Dark Magic, and he attempted to persuade me to never use those abilities. After that we parted ways and I went back to my work of hunting Spain’s most vile and wretched. I never saw Merlin again after that, or rather, I haven’t seen him since. I spent until the year 1907 in Spain, after that I left for London England.
