Why Lorie? Part II

Chapter 6: Drogo and Nicolae Arrive in Mystery Spell

"This is it?"  Drogo grimaced as the carriage stopped and he got out, immediately stepping into a muddy puddle.  He glared furiously at Viktor who gave him a sardonic grin in return.

Drogo looked around despondently, stretching his legs that were stiff from sitting in the crowded carriage for over three hours.  After twelve grueling days, they were finally in Mystery Spell.  Located in the middle of nowhere, Massachusetts, it was a small, quiet town — the complete opposite of a bustling city like Vienna.  Perhaps the fact that snow covered most of the houses gave it an extra aura of desolation.  One might've called the little red-brick buildings with copper roofs that lined the narrow cobblestone streets quaint, but to Drogo, it looked like the end of the world.  A place that he would be banished to for eternity.

He sighed as he joined Nicolae who started unpacking their luggage.  The carriage had dropped them off in front of the town's only hotel:  a two story building that could only accommodate twenty people at best.  Drogo scrunched up his face as he examined the facade:  a plain flat wall, with slightly peeling yellow paint, lacking in any adornments.  Over the shiny black front door, its name was painted in faded blue letters:  Heavenly Inn.

Drogo scoffed:  "Heavenly, indeed... more like hell, I'd say."

"Just hurry up and help your brother," Viktor sneered as he passed by Drogo and entered the lobby.

Drogo scowled, but obeyed his Father's orders.  He didn't want to create any more waves in their already turbulent relationship.  He was lucky to still be alive, and would just have to somehow deal with this new environment.  But he didn't have to be happy about it. He approached Nicolae and whispered:

"What do you think?  How in the world are we going to live here?"

Nicolae shrugged. "Beggars can't be choosers.  We'll have to accommodate."

"I have to ask you something," Drogo continued while he grabbed a suitcase from atop the carriage.

Nicolae glanced at him sideways:  "Yes?"

"Why did you decide to save me?  And how in the world did you come up with this place of all?  Is there a special reason for it?"

Nicolae turned and faced his brother:  "If you would actually use your brain to try and figure this out, you'd realize that I chose this place because it's as far away as possible from Viktor.  Once he returns to Vienna, we'll be on our own... free of his constant supervision."

Drogo widened his amber eyes:  "That was some seriously good thinking, brother!"

He clapped Nicolae on the back and smiled.  No more Viktor!  He only had to put up with him for a couple of weeks and then... freedom!

Once they checked in with the front desk clerk and brought all of their luggage in, the three men ascended the rickety staircase to the second floor.  Viktor got his own room, while Nicolae and Drogo lodged together next door.

"Wow!  We got the penthouse!"  Drogo smirked as he examined the tiny room and peered out the frost-covered window.

The room was sparsely furnished, with two single beds covered in faded blue quilts, a plain wood desk in between them, a coat rack, and an armoire they would have to share.

"I can barely fit a couple of suits in this thing," Drogo remarked as he opened the door to the armoire.  "And does this place even have a bathroom, or do we have to pee in a bucket?"  He asked Nicolae, who threw him a disappointed look.

"Do you ever stop complaining?"  Nicolae shook his head despondently.  "There's probably one bathroom per floor."

"You mean we'll have to share it with a bunch of strangers?"  Drogo raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"Don't worry princess," Nicolae replied as he took his coat off and hung it on the coat rack.  "I doubt there's anyone else staying here besides us."

"I can't imagine why," Drogo muttered.  "Isn't this supposed to be heaven?"

Nicolae narrowed his eyes:  "Perhaps you should stop whining and be grateful for a moment.  Remember:  you're still alive."

Drogo sighed as he plopped down on one of the beds.  It creaked under his weight.  He placed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling despondently.

"I'm going to talk to Father for a minute," Nicolae said.  "You better stay put!  Don't get any fancy ideas.  I won't be able to save your ass again."

And with that, Nicolae left, leaving Drogo to his thoughts.  The first thing that came to his mind was their trip from Hamburg to New York, on the luxury ocean liner Victoria Luise.  It was a beautiful ship and Drogo would have enjoyed himself had he not been locked inside his cabin the entire time.

Viktor didn't trust his youngest son out on the main deck, surrounded by beautiful, rich young women who had no place to escape to.  While Nicolae was perfectly happy feeding on the multitude of rats that scurried around the ship, Viktor made a few trips down to steerage and fed on the occasional lonesome third class passenger that meandered around late at night.  During the day, Viktor studied his prey closely, learning which people traveled alone, so that their absence wouldn't be noticed by others.  There were plenty of young men who left Europe on their own, seeking a better life in the States.  Little did they know that instead of a bright future in America, what awaited them was a bloody death in a dark corner of the ship, their bodies then dumped into the cold ocean waters and forever forgotten.

While Viktor continued to partake of human blood, Drogo did not get to enjoy the same diet.  Part of his punishment was to feed on the rats that Nicolae brought him, or starve.  The first few times, he gagged at the unappetizing sight and taste, and couldn't manage to keep it down.

"How on earth can you eat this?"  Drogo asked his brother, a look of utter horror on his face.

Nicolae arched an eyebrow:  "Is that the thanks I get for bringing you something to keep you alive?  Or would you rather not feed at all for the next week?"

Drogo accepted his brother's offerings, albeit with reluctance.

"Thank you, Nicolae," he conceded.  "I truly owe you my life," Drogo said as he bit into a furry creature with obvious disgust.

"You'll get used to it," Nicolae chuckled watching Drogo's face as he struggled with the rat.  "And who knows... maybe you'll end up preferring it over humans one day."

"I seriously doubt it," Drogo replied, forcing the warm, life-sustaining substance down his throat.

Yet, Nicolae was right again.  Out of the sheer necessity for blood, Drogo fed on rats for the duration of the entire trip; even after they arrived in New York and rode the train to Boston.  Each time Drogo managed to get near a human being, Viktor glared at him in such a way that he lost his appetite.  His father would then grin, satisfied with the knowledge that his wayward son was suffering.  It only made Drogo's hatred for Viktor grow stronger.  Especially since his carefully constructed plan to get even had failed.  Josette was forever out of Drogo's reach and Viktor would get his much desired bride.

Unless...