AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Confused but curious, Jonathan allowed Vigo to help him out of bed. As they made their way downstairs, Jonathan glanced around, expecting to see Dracula.
“The Count is resting,” Vigo explained. “Giving his blood weakened him. He will sleep for some time.”
They approached a locked door, which Vigo opened to reveal a sitting room. Jonathan’s gaze was immediately drawn to a large painting on the wall. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the familiar face – his own face, yet not quite.
“This is Béla,” Vigo said softly. “The demon who changed Dracula prophesied Béla’s return. And so you have.”
Jonathan’s mind whirled with confusion and realization. The name that had been on his mind for as long as he could remember, the inexplicable choice to name his dog Béla, the undeniable draw he felt towards the Count – it all suddenly made a strange sort of sense.
“I... I don’t know what to think,” Jonathan admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Vigo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. But perhaps it explains the connection you’ve felt since arriving here. The past and present are intertwined in ways we cannot always comprehend.”
“I don’t know if I like this idea,” he said, his voice strained. “These feelings I’m developing for the Count... are they even mine? Or are they some echo of this Béla’s emotions?”
He turned to Vigo, his eyes pleading for understanding. “I want to believe that what I feel is genuine, that it’s coming from me.But how can I be sure? I don’t even know if I love the Count or if it’s just... some remnant of a past life pushing me towards him.”
Vigo listened patiently, his weathered face full of compassion. When Jonathan finally fell silent, the old servant spoke gently. “I understand your concerns,” he said. “Reincarnation or not, you are your own man with your own experiences. Your feelings are valid, regardless of any past life connections.”
Jonathan’s shoulders sagged with relief at Vigo’s words. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I needed to hear that. It’s all so overwhelming, and I’m struggling to make sense of it all.”
“What do you feel about the Count?” Vigo asked, his eyes kind but probing.
Jonathan hesitated, his brow furrowed in thought. “I... I don’t know. In London, I’ve been repressed for so long. I was never given the chance to explore feelings like this.”
“Then perhaps it’s time to stop thinking through the lens of Victorian society,” Vigo suggested. “Here, you have the freedom to explore these feelings without judgment.”
Jonathan’s face reddened as he spoke. “The Count is... fascinating. Handsome and noble. I find I can talk to him for hours without tiring of his company.” His voice lowered as he added, “And the intimacy we shared... it was unlike anything I’ve experienced.”
He paused, his expression growing troubled. “But I’m also afraid of him. The way he tore those men apart... it was terrifying. Yet he did it to protect me. I feel as though I’m losing pieces of myself on this journey. I wonder if I’ll like what I see in the end.”
Vigo nodded sagely. “Hiding one’s true self can be a terrible burden. Not knowing oneself is even worse. I urge you to remain, to see this through and discover who you truly are.”
“But the Count wishes for me to return to London,” Jonathan protested weakly.
A knowing smile crossed Vigo’s face. “My Master will give in if you insist on staying. However, you should know that he has already marked you. You cannot truly leave now.”
Jonathan’s hand flew to his neck, searching for bite marks. Finding none, he looked at Vigo in confusion. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, marked?”
Vigo’s expression grew serious. “The blood exchange you shared with the Count has forged a connection between you. It’s not a physical mark, but a mystical one. You are now tied to him in ways that transcend the physical realm.” Vigo leaned forward, his eyes intense. “By aligning yourself with the Count, even unwittingly, you have now been irrevocably marked. Van Helsing and his fanatics will stop at nothing to purge anyone or anything associated with what they call the ‘vampyre scourge.’”
“But I didn’t—“ Jonathan exclaimed, a note of panic in his voice.
“Perhaps not consciously,” Vigo replied gently. “But that Hunter sniffed you out immediately; he is not the only hunter in the world, and my master is not the only vampyre.”
“Are you saying I’m in danger?”
“I believe my master believes that sending you away will be enough to keep you safe. Perhaps he is correct. But trust me when I say that once you have touched the preternatural world, it will always draw you in. Whether you wish for it or not.”
“What... what am I to do now?” Jonathan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Vigo’s expression softened. “That, my dear boy, is entirely up to you. You stand at a crossroads. You can attempt to retreat back into your former life, though I warn you, it will be a hollow existence now that you’ve glimpsed the truth. Or...”
“Or?” Jonathan prompted, leaning forward.
“Or you can embrace this new world that has opened up to you. Plunge headlong into the mysteries the Count embodies. It will not be an easy path, mind you. There will be dangers, both physical and spiritual. But it offers the chance for a kind of transcendence few mortals ever experience.”
Jonathan fell silent, contemplating Vigo’s words. The enormity of the choice before him was staggering. After a long moment, he spoke again. “Are you a…Vampyre?”
