It Was Venom In Their Veins

Starting The Chaos

W/N: Thanks for the support for this story - it's only been up for about 3 weeks and its already doing better than my last story. So please keep reading, commenting, and even voting and fanning! Here is the next chapter of It Was Venom In Their Veins.

P.S: Sorry that this chapter is rather short - if it were any longer, it would have to be 2 chapter's worth otherwise it wouldn't fit together well. The next chapter should be more lengthy :)

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  Leading Lavinia out of the city and onto to a field, where Bucharest suddenly became rural and quiet, he stopped. Lavinia looked up and gasped. Not in shock or fear, but in awe.

  Stood before her was a gothic mansion that belonged to Catalin Dracul. Ivy and scarlet roses coiled up the dark railings, refusing to let go, but this made the house somewhat beautiful. Inside were many quarters, studies and artifacts, all hidden under one black, tiled roof - something that Lavinia could only dream of in her wildest dreams. This man's house was her dream. Out in the open, away from awkward, irrational civilization. Balconies stretched over gardens of peculiar flowers, and stain-glass windows looked out onto the deserted field, not letting much sunlight splash through them. But even with the impressive balconies and gardens and collections of rare items, there was something sinister about this house. And its owner.

  She stepped inside, following Costel. There wasn't any sunlight to light up the hallways, but with the little brightness there was Lavinia could see human skulls and dark embroidery fringing the walls. 

  "Wait here," Costel told Lavinia, leaving her in the gloomy hallway and making his way to a downstairs basement. Lavinia stood in the dimness. Now alone and inside, she didn't feel so awed but rather scared. She hadn't realised how odd it was that a house could have such an absence of light. She ran her hands across the walls, feeling the cracked bones decorating them. Hearing the thud footsteps, she quickly pulled her hand back. But it was only Costel.

  "He's here," he announced. "Come." He made a beckoning motion.

   Costel walked down the dimmed hallway, with Lavinia obediently tip-toeing behind him, again. They entered a room that wasn't entirely cloaked in black - small, waxy candles slowly pushed the darkness away, revealing a blond tall man sitting at an ebony workbench - he was Catalin Dracul; his broad shoulders had a cloak fit for kings thrown over them; his stiff, masculine body was clothed in the finest garments, all of which were either blood red or simply black.

  Even though Costel and Lavinia came unannounced and silently, Dracul felt their presence. He looked up. He had bright red eyes, the colour of rich, fresh blood, different from the sad, disappointing red colour of the sick people's eyes Lavinia had been watching. His skin was pale and white.

  "Who is this?" he asked, staring at Lavinia.

  "Just someone who wants to ask you some questions..." Costel's suddenly timid voice trailed off. Lavinia could tell he was scared of him. But why?

  Dracul turned to Lavinia, his eyes now ablaze. "Get out."

  "But..." Costel must've been feeling brave today. But Lavinia was already warily edging toward the door.

  "I said," Dracul announced loud and clear. "Get out!" He shouted rage-fully this time, revealing his long fangs instead of a pair canine teeth.

Costel got the message, but Lavinia was already out the door, running out of the house, out to the field, back to the city of Bucharest.

                                                                            ***

  "Where have you been?" Mrs Dobre barked when Lavinia returned home. "You've been gone for 2 hours! I've even had to shut shop for the day! How am I, a frail woman of her older years, meant to run a shop by myself, eh? How do you expect me to do that, Lavinia?"

  Lavinia just stared on, still in shock from what happened earlier that day. The man had fangs, like an animal; like a bat. That was it - like a bat. Bats hide away from sunlight, bats make themselves unknown. Bats have fangs like an animal...

  "Are you even listening to a word I am saying, Lavinia?" Mrs Dobre screamed. "Listen to me!"

  "Yes, mother," Lavinia whispered, dazed.

  "Good," her mother said firmly. "Now you need to change your ways, young lady.  Writing, sneaking off... You need to act like a true woman. You don't belong in books. Lavinia? Lavinia! Come back!"

Lavinia had walked upstairs, trailing off to her study, leaving her deranged mother shouting after her, demanding her attention.

                                                                                  ***

  Costel had never seen his master like that. Well, at least, not in a long time. Dracul could get very scary in a very short amount of time. He was strong, powerful, no one questioned him... what Costel would give to have that power.

  But his thoughts evaporated when his master called him back to his study.

  "Why did you bring that girl here?" Dracul asked.

  "Like I said, to ask you questions."

  "About what?"

  "Your..." Costel tried to find the right word. "Your... state of being."

  Dracul nodded slowly, his red eyes not leaving his workbench. 

  "Why did you get so angry so quickly at her?" Costel asked him.

  Dracul turned to Costel. "She reminded me of my mother."

  "Oh." Costel had heard about his master's mother. Well, little about her. All he knew was that she suddenly died in 'extraordinary circumstances'.

  A strange silence filled the room.

  "So... how did you become like the way you are? With red eyes, pale skin and fangs?" Costel asked, his loud voice breaking the unwanted silence.

  "It was just an unusual night. A little more than a year ago," Costel answered, his attention now back to his ebony workbench.

  "Can I ask you a question?" Costel wanted to know, suddenly eager for something.

  "You have already asked me a question," Dracul said calmly, still not looking properly at young Costel. "But go ahead."

  "Can you make me like you?"

  Costel's innocent question echoed through the hall before Dracul said anything. "Like how?"

  Costel heisitated. "Strong, powerful, pale skin, red eyes. Like you." He bit his lip.

  Dracul turned round, looking Costel in the eyes properly, as if he saw him for the first time. Why did this young boy want to be anything like him? Dracul hated himself. He was a bloodsucking creature. Yes, he was now rich, but Dracul had scoured Europe for doctors, wise men, even witches, to help cure him. But no one could. Could he even make this boy like him? Maybe so - some of his victims, only a handful, became like him after he drained them of their blood. There was a small possibility.

  "You do know if I do that, you might not come out of it alive? Do you even know the cost to have this?" Dracul didn't want to scare the boy, not really, but he had to take all this to account. This was like assited suicide.

  "Whatever to be powerful," Costel said after taking a deep breath.

  Dracul slowly nodded, and walked over to Costel, who found himself rooted to the ground.

  "Hold still," Dracul commanded. He tried to ignore Costel cries of pain as he plunged his fangs in the boy's skin.