Beethoven - Scourge of Vampires [ONC 2022]

12

12

Bernhard felt a little disappointed. They hadn't found a castle, as such, but, rather, a large house in the Bavarian style, pressed against the side of the mountain. He had expected something far more grandiose. More intimidating. Yet this appeared the only dwelling. A stable, off to the side, housed the carriage, where the coachman now unfastened the horses, leading them to their stalls. Of the Vampire Lord and the girl, Bernhard could see nothing.

Steps led up to a door upon a porch area and all the windows looked dark on either side of the door. Here, at the end of the ravine, the rays of the dawning Sun had not reached a height where it made the place any lighter, but still, there were no lights within the two-storey house. Bernhard didn't like it. It looked too normal. Undefended. No-one would believe a vicious, evil creature resided within those wooden walls.

"It's a trap. It has to be." They had left their horses further along the ravine and now crouched against the mountainside. Bernhard assessed the situation. "Only one door that I can see. The coachman is alone and I see no others. No patrol. Nothing."

"Of course it's a trap." The Maestro stood, his hand digging into his coat and emerging with a hazel baton in his hand. "But she's in there. I can feel it."

"She?" Bernhard noticed the Maestro rubbing his throat through the scarf hiding his 'inflammatory infection'. "You mean your beloved? How can you tell?"

"I can tell." Beethoven caught Bernhard's glance and dropped his hand. Then his face lightened, as though he pushed away dark thoughts. "Come on, then. Let's give these blood-suckers what they want, eh?"

Without any warning, the Maestro began to run from their hiding place. He covered the ground to the stables with such speed, Bernhard could hardly believe Beethoven had it within him. Even as he reached the stables, the coachman caught sight of the mad rush and turned to face Beethoven, but it did him little good.

A hiss escaped the coachman's lips, a snarl parting his mouth that turned into a look of surprise as the Maestro plunged the hazel baton into his chest. The coachman's fingers flexed and the look of surprise faded from his face as he crumbled into dust. The hazel baton didn't survive the attack and Beethoven tossed the snapped remains to the side as he moved onwards.

In truth, Bernhard had wondered about the great man's fighting abilities. Each time Beethoven had killed a vampire, before, he had caught them by surprise. Attacking from behind or at such speed the creatures could not react fast enough. Yet the Maestro clearly had some skills. Bernhard glanced at the pile of dust, that was once the coachman, and wondered how many vampires the Maestro had killed before meeting Bernhard.

That question had to wait for another time, however, as the Maestro continued upon his course, heading towards the door to the house. They both crouched as they traversed along the long porch that encircled the building. Bernhard tried to glance through the windows but could see nothing. As though the Vampire Lord had painted the insides black, or had shutters closed on the inside. They would find no entry there.

Taking the steps to the door with slow, deliberate movements, Bernhard stood to one side as Beethoven moved to the other. The composer now had hazel batons in each hand as he flattened himself against the wall. Bernhard drew his sabre and reached a hand towards the handle of the door. With a nod from the Maestro, Bernhard opened the door, pushing it open on well-oiled hinges.

"This is definitely a trap." Bernhard had expected something to happen at this point. "Maybe we should take a moment to assess the situation?"

"Nah. Best get it over with, if you ask me." The Maestro peeled himself away from the wall and stepped through the door. "Oi! Düsterburg! Get out here and fight, you evil wretch!"