Only Human

Chapter 6 - The Council

Ominous would be one way to describe the cave that they were entering, but there were plenty of other words that could be thought up, too. Foreboding. Somber. Daunting. Uninviting. The last synonym in particular was most fitting, and also the most opposing adjective that they would've liked to use as they filed into the cavern. No one wanted to go somewhere where they felt unwelcome. Yet this was the aura that had permeated every fiber of Drac, Johnny, Mavis, and Ericka's beings since they'd stepped foot inside.

The long hall of darkness seemed to stretch on and on, its wide rock walls narrowing down and making the space seem even more confining. Creepy crawlers and spiders scurried along beneath their feet, heard but unseen, and causing Drac to nearly stumble at their sudden passage almost every time. The sound of their footsteps shuffling along left behind the faintest echoes off the stone, an answering chill in the air sending more than enough shivers down spines. Their path went on like this for a while, until the surroundings began to change. Subtle details at first, such as the rock becoming slightly smoother with each progressing step, and then much more obvious ones, such as the eventual hard switch from the slate stone to a tiled flooring: that of an actual corridor.

It was styled in deep crimson and black shades, with decorative carvings and patterns inlaid onto the walls at regular intervals. Some were intricate, swirling ones that were clearly designed with the intention to be of the highest ornate quality. Others were simplistic, just straight lines interspersed with odd, random symbols and patterns, the latter looking far too complex to not have been created purposefully. Such features would have been missed in entirety had it not been for the torches that lined both sides of the corridor, aiding to illuminate their surroundings with its warm orange glow. Then, as if that weren't enough, something else came into sight, propped up on the wall as well and further down. It was when the group approached that they realized what it was. A portrait. In fact, a whole series of portraits, each larger than life and painted in a stunning acrylic medium framed with gilded silver and gold filigree.

It could be noted upon further inspection that the figures depicted were quite recognizable in fact, and Johnny couldn't help but voice his thoughts aloud. "Hey," he said, approaching the closest to him. "Is that... Bigfoot?"

As certain as the sun came out in the day, it sure was. The massive creature's giant foot was hardly unrecognizable to those who saw it, therefore, the redhead's inquiry came off as more of a rhetorical question.

"And that looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon," Ericka added, pointing out one of the paintings on the other side. She recognized the swamp monster from his many visits to the hotel during the wet season.

"I just found the Phantom of the Opera," Mavis piped up, showing them the portrait of the half-masked ghoul.

"Seriously?" Drac scoffed. "They included that guy in this... Hall of Fame sort of thingy?"

"Aw, don't be so jelly, Drac," Johnny said. "I just found yours and your dad's! See?" He waved Drac over and showed him the said portraits of Vlad and the Count alongside each other. The paintings were grouped together with a third one adjacent to theirs, though Johnny scrunched his brow in confusion at attempting to search his brain for any recollection of who this third figure could be. "Uh, Drac... who is that other guy?"

The man took a closer look at the last portrait. It was a barrel-chested vampire in a rich black coat with cream fur lining the collar. A protruding jaw with an underbite of fangs was on his face, the monster's dark eyes glowing a menacing red that, even in painting form, felt as though they held you under its hypnotic power. Recognition flashed in Drac's eyes. "Lycidias..."

"Who?" Johnny said, having never heard such a name before. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw that it was Mavis's.

His wife was staring up at the portrait as grimly as her father was. "He was one of the first Dracula's... and the most powerful." Some kind of memory ran through Mavis's mind, though it remained unspoken, leaving the redhead to wonder just what it was. The girl not wishing to take a step closer to it, it was Drac who approached the portrait, and chose to run his fingers over the canvas surface. Its colors were still pristine, and no surface of dust coated it.