(Part two)
Tomas Rodescu dined at the Village Restaurant.
He studied the map of Bucharest.
Other diners studied the man.
He didn't want to cause attention. That was the most important matter. His short, black colored hair was dry from the shower he had thirty minutes' before; his black colored eyes gleamed in the growing darkness-then turned brown.
Tomas informed a waitress that he wanted a drink.
"Excuse me, Mi-e sete, may I have some water?".
"Da!", the sexy Waitress moved lithely to the man. Her breasts moved in perfect rhythm. Tomas noticed her long, slender legs, and her brown colored stockings. Her black colored shoes tapped on the cobbled, medieval streets.
"Mulţumesc".
"If you need anything Sir, let me know. Numele meu e...Greta".
"Numele meu e...Tomas. I need to dine...and work. But we can meet again, da".
"Da!", Greta winked at him, "...The Pie and salad are coming soon. And beer". She wrote the orders down, then left Table 13.
***
The couple walked down the road.
They passed the ancient Citadel. Its black colored gates loomed menacingly. As they passed the arched gates, a howling came from nearby.
"It's the Vârcolac".
"Nu, they don't exist". The woman was scared. In the Bucharest sky, the rain teemed down. Then, to their horror, the moon was full.
And the howling continued.
"Let's go!".
And they ran towards one of the Taverns, opened the front doors, and escaped the beasts' claws, as it begun its night of attacks in the town.
***
The boy stared at the moon.
He watched movement as he took the rubbish out into the bins. He wondered if...Something moved; something horrible.
Then he saw a girl.
She smiled at him.
Her face was furry.
Her teeth were sharp.
As was her ears.
Her short fingers were now elongated; her arms were longer; her feet were longer as well. And her eyes turned a hellish red color.
"Vârcolac". He used the formal title for a Werewolf.
He looked around.
"Peter, where are you?".
He heard his Mama.
"Mama, there's a Vârcolac; there's a bad girl in the woods". Peter looked around. He would be cursed if the girl raked its claws across his face...like his Bunic, (Grandfather); he would suffer until the head Bunic was killed, and the curse would be lifted.
He couldn't let her...
...And then she ripped into his neck with its right claws...and Peter knew that he was now damned forever...as blood gushed all over the Bucharest cobbled streets.
Peter ran to the front door.
Blood seeped from the deep wounds.
"Ajutor! Sunt bolnav!", ("Help! I'm sick!").
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Castle of Bloody Dwellers A novel
Ужасы13 year old New Yorker, Ginger Thomas, (on the front book cover), a fan of horror movies, spends the night at the haunted Dark Castle of Bloody Dwellers, in Romania. But, as she does so, she meets all kinds of travellers from around the World, who...
