Princes of the Undead

Part 19

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The blonde stewardess tasted a little of everywhere she had been, and although he was more widely travelled now than ever before, there were still parts of the world he hadn't visited. Dracula had plucked her memories like a virtuoso did a violin's strings, savouring one then the other. Before settling on a magnificent plateau filled with ruins, steep green mountainous slopes stretching out as far as his eye could see. So high up they were even above the clouds. Dracula slowed down the rate at which he drained her, just so he had longer to enjoy the view.

"Where are we?" An unwelcome familiar voice suddenly interrupted his quiet reflection, and Dracula whirled around to confront this shade.

"What are you doing here? He demanded, squinting against the setting sun as a familiar figure emerged from his blind spot.

"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that, you're the one who conjured me?" Agatha answered, all the while knowing that was a half-truth at best.

This had happened to them once before, and it seemed just like before, Agatha was the only one to realise, that although this was a dream, it was also real. Dracula was probably in his penthouse, feeding from the poor blonde he had left laying over there. Agatha knew she was home, asleep, her thoughts before bed had been full of the knowledge that Dracula was back in London. Whether intentional all not, Dracula had thought of her and that had been enough to build the bridge between them.

Perhaps this knowledge was something Agatha should tell him about, only together would they be able to work out how to stop it happening. Only seeing him here after all this time, as much as she was still furious with him, it was still nice to see him. He looked well, fit, and even a little tanned. Travelling clearly agreed with him. Seeing the world, whilst she was stuck here doing the hard work...no Agatha suddenly had no desire to share her knowledge, for once it was nice to be the one calling the shots.

"If you are a demon of my own summoning, then I banish you back from where you came." Dracula commanded imperiously, his irritation at the interruption only growing, as this ghost of Agatha laughed at him.

"You don't think its going to be that easy to get rid of me, surely?" Agatha teased as she stepped closer. "Besides you don't really want me to go."

"You sound very sure of yourself for a mere shade."

"It's your mind, you tell me." Agatha shrugged. "I wouldn't be here unless you wanted me to be."

"I...I don't know what I want." Dracula admitted, before deciding that if he couldn't banish Agatha's ghost, he could at least ignore her...of course in that he had forgotten just how persistent she could be all on her own.

"Is this one of the places you visited?"

"Why are you making conversation?"

"People do."

"You don't, and we have had this exchange before Agatha, I recall what happened last time."

Snorting in amusement, Agatha turned to him, unable to suppress the smile that bubbled up. "Do I look like I could have smuggled explosives up here?"

Taking a moment to actually look at her, Dracula frowned at the simple black camisole top and pyjama bottom combination. That was an odd choice of attire, it wasn't the nun's habit the shade had worn last time, and it certainly wouldn't have been something he would have picked to dress her in. Yet other than the ugly clothes, Agatha looked well, her arms and shoulders were more toned than he remembered, and she still held herself with that annoying confidence.

"I have learnt to never put anything past you Agatha." Dracula sighed, it was almost sad conversing with this facsimile of Agatha. "Why are you haunting me? You left me alone these past two years, why are you back now?"