The Real Dracula

Chapter 2

  Chapter 2

And so the baby Vlad grew. And as he grew he forgot his real mother and the gruesome way she died. Probably for the best his father had thought to himself, watching the child, now five years old run around with his brothers. It was obvious to anyone who saw Vlad that he was fathered illegitimately. The other boys, Mircea, Vlad Călugărul- known as Cal for short- and Radu, had their mothers chestnut hair and brown eyes. Vlad on the other hand, had inherited his father’s grey eyes and inky black hair. But his face, something about the slope of his arching cheek bones, and fullness of his bottom lip, spoke of Kasia. Of course nobody remembered her, apart from the midwife who had stayed on to care for the baby, but she was long dead (a convenient accident in the forest, terribly tragic). Cneajna had accepted the baby without complaint, albeit with a few suspicious glances but she was tired of arguing with Vlad and the child made a welcome distraction.  The elder Vlad never told Cneajna of the child’s wailing shriek, but little irregularities, little disturbing signs kept the incident fresh in his mind. The children had Labrador named Ivan as a pet, a silky, coal-coloured creature which bounded and leapt with them every day. But one night Ivan died suddenly, he had eaten a whole bowl of grapes and had collapsed soon after. Unfortunately, the children were the ones who discovered the body.

“Oh no!” gasped Radu, his brown eyes wet and streaming “look at Ivan!”

“What are we going to do?” howled Mircea, hugging the big dog’s neck. Cal slumped against the smooth fur and cried bitterly. And then little Vlad, with his soul-consuming eyes and Kasia’s lips, toddled in and sat down next to the body. His father watched him in silent confusion as Vlad tried to make himself cry. He blinked fast and sniffed but he didn’t cry. It didn’t seem like he could cry. Finally he gave an indifferent shrug and toddled out the room again.

“Huh?” sniffed Mircea, wiping his nose on his sleeve “aren’t you sad Vlad? Ivan’s gone!”

“We can get another dog,” the five year old replied

“Yes, but we can’t get another Ivan silly!”

“Well…”

Vlad II noticed that his son felt uncomfortable. His lack of emotion seemed to embarrass him and even at the tender age of five, he knew he was responding wrong, but he didn’t seem know why. Vlad decided to intervene.

“Vlad’s right son,” their father interjected “You can always get another dog, sensible attitude really,” he said, ruffling Vlad’s hair as he rose up and strode out the room, leaving the children to console themselves as best as they could.

It was these events, where Vlad exhibited almost no emotion that stuck in his father’s mind. Where other children would normally scream, kick or cry, Vlad remained quiet and absurdly aloof. It was as if he found displays of emotion undignified and useless. This made his father proud of his boy. Truly, here was a true King! Someone who won’t be swayed by petty emotions when making a clear decision. But still, it wasn’t natural…

Meanwhile outside, in the looming shadow of the stone castle, Vlad was playing with his brothers. They were using sticks as swords and were playing ‘battles’ and Mircea, the eldest and bossiest, was directing.

“Stand here Radu,” he ordered, and when the youngster didn’t move, he impatiently lugged him over to the spot next to the pine trees, ignoring his squeals of protest.

“Hey! Hey! Put me down! I wasn’t done yet!” Radu stuffed the rest of the bread he had been eating in his mouth and plopped down on the floor.

“You eat too much anyway,” said Mircea

“No I don’t!”

“Vlad and Cal,” Mircea continued, ignoring Radu “You two can be the enemies and me and Radu will charge at you, yes?”