Dracula Untold

Chapter Two

Stories were told of Dracula throughout the years, many people seeking the legendary vampire out, seeking to gain power as he once did; But he kept himself secluded, hidden in the darkness away from the world and its prying eyes.

As time passed, the tales began to fade into the many pages of history. Until he was nothing but a mere myth on people's tongues. Slowly he began to creep out of the darkness, and beginning to observe the human race, adjusting to the changes that came with it but still the pain of the past lingered.

A thousand year old vampire that still roamed the earth. That was the tale humans begun to pass on to each other, his original age lost. In reality, it was barely half of what people thought. Though he had lost count of it after 500 years.

Tawny brown eyes opened slowly, scanning the dimly lit bedroom before he pushed himself into a sitting position, the blankets crumpling around him at his waist as he tugged his fingers through his black hair. His body felt stiff, his throat parched as it ached for his food. This was his curse.

Letting out a dry cough, Vlad stiffly pushed the blankets off him and slid out of the bed. He approached the window, inching his hand in front of the crack he left in his curtains. When his skin didn't immediately begin to burn off, he slowly opened the curtains as he glanced out at the sky.

Dark clouds covered the sky above the buildings, casting a shadow across the city. Over 500 years, he began to wonder how he managed to keep sane over so many years.

"Why think of this life differently than the next.." The words quietly passed his lips, his gaze fixated on the clouds above him before he let the curtain fall closed once again. Perhaps that was why he had stayed sane. That last string of his humanity that he held onto over the years. The thought of finding her again kept him going.

That was the other half of the equation to why he kept moving from city to city, the other half was self explanatory. He couldn't linger in one place for long in fear of someone discovering his secret. Granted, being over 500 years since he became who he is today, most people were oblivious to the risk he brought to them. He knew there was always that handful of superstitious people who kept an eye out for such signs, and he kept it at the back of his mind as a reminder.

Vlad had moved to a American city, farther from his home land and close to the sea. The only thing he really needed to live comfortably was shelter, but in order to make his persona as a normal person he had acquired himself a casual office job. It was enough of an income to make live by and to buy at least a few groceries. Though he rarely ever ate, and when he did it was only to keep up his visage of a normal human. Over the years he had managed to set up a savings account to dump extra income in to save over the years in case of tight situations.

He was met with the chilled wind as he stepped out of the apartment complex, glancing down the street before he pressed onward. He noted a few stops he had to make, debating on stopping by the art museum before returning home.

He found over the years that indulging himself in art helped him relax and keep his mind in a sane state.

He appreciated listening to people converse over the art pieces, observing their feelings through their words and expressions, reminding him how it was to be human again. It was the closest thing he could get without getting physically or emotionally close to anyone. He had stayed an arms distance away from people through the years, never quite having many people he could call friends. Not since he left Transylvania.

He let himself grow close to a few people, but not so close as for them to take much notice or worry to his sudden disappearance from their life after only a few short years.

Vlad kept his gaze on the horizon, keeping a close eye on the clouds in order to make sure the sun wouldn't peek through.

Feeling his throat tighten as he brushed past a crowd of people, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. The desire was beginning to grow inside him, becoming more apparent as the weeks grew on. He had lost track of the last time he had fed, trying to push himself as far as he could before he fed.

Over the years he had taken notice to small signs his body would produce when he'd start to reach his limit. His nights would become more restless, dreams plaguing him relentlessly. Dreams of the past, regrets that taunted him. His complexion would pale in means, and his patience would thin. He'd become more agitated at things that he'd normally have a more calm demeanor towards. It was such signs that told him he couldn't go any longer without feeding.

"Ah Mr. Torneau, back again already?" The lady at the teller greeted him, Rachel was her name if he recalled correctly, a pleasant smile on her face.

Vlad smiled back in greeting, stepping up to the counter. "Again?" He chuckled lightly. "I believe its been a week since I was here last." He said, pulling out his wallet as he laughed softly.

Rachel leaned on the counter a bit. "Most people only come once a month to pay their bills, so seeing you here after last week can be considered again." She smiled, leaning back again as she typed something in the computer. "Same amount as last?" She inquired.

Vlad nodded, sliding the bills across the counter. "Well I like to keep up with what I owe so I'm always ahead of the game." He told her, sliding his leather wallet back into the pocket of his coat.

Rachel let out a quiet chortle, taking the money as she slid it into the till. "More than anyone else can say." She countered, before handing him the receipt. "Have yourself a good day. Or try too, what with the looks of today's weather." She added in with a light shrug.

"I prefer it this way." Vlad replied, before giving a small wave. "Thanks again." He thanked her before exiting the building, the cold wind blowing across his exposed skin as he let out a breath of air. At the rate the weather was going, and judging by the seasons, he wouldn't be surprised if they seen snow sooner than expected. Though colder weathers came, he preferred the winter since the sun wasn't out nearly as much as the other times of the year.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he continued down the street. His tawny gaze glanced up as he passed the University, watching as the few remaining students filled out of the building for the day. Continuing on, he found his way to the Museum.

'Closed'

Vlad stood on the steps for a few moments, gaze lingering on the red sign that hung from the door handles. Much to his dismay. At this time it was when he started to feel that familiar itch inside his being. His gaze scanning the crowds on the streets as he stood on the steps. If he waited any longer, what little of his self restraint would snap.

He had to wait till nightfall in order to feed. Less of a crowd and the darkness could seclude him. He had learnt to cope with the changing times and adjust his feeding routine as such. He wouldn't just feed off any person, certainly not the innocent. But those who, in his eyes, deserved to die. Murderers or rapists. Those who's presence wouldn't be noticed missing until long after he was gone. He'd always plan far ahead of time, specifically for picking where he would dispose of the body, where no one would find it.

And thus far his routine never failed him.

But in the meantime, Vlad figured it best to return to his condo and wait out the rest of the day..