Dracula (A Modern Telling) by Victor Methos Read Free Book Online

with them. But my door was locked from the outside.
    I ran to the window and began screaming at them. Some of them looked up, others didn’t. The man, the Gypsy heroin addict that I’d given the letter to, was there as well and he said something to them in a language I didn’t recognize and they laughed at me.
     

June 24 th
     
    Last night the Count spent a few hours with me talking about his music. His feet were up on the table in my room and one of the three women was behind him, massaging his shoulders. I had no recording equipment, nothing to memorialize this with, so I assume he just wanted to talk.
    “Rock music is unlike anything else,” he said. “The Romans and ancient Greeks, with all their brilliance, had nothing comparable. I still remember the first time I heard it. It woke me from a sleep much deeper than any sleep you have ever been in. A sleep of centuries. And it woke me. I heard its thump, it’s heartbeat, and it matched my own. I was … mesmerized.
    “It’s a form of savagery, Jonathan. That’s really what it is. But it must work through the intellect. If it doesn’t have melody or structure, or layering or expert instrumentation, it is just noise. It is the beast and the beauty in us, the angel and the devil. There’s nothing else like it.”
    He inhaled deeply, as if reminiscing on something, and then rose and left the room, the woman behind him blowing me a kiss. The door locked.
    I got up and ran to the window. The roadies I saw are staying in the mansion somewhere and they’re doing some sort of work because I can hear them at night. I heard them now somewhere in the belly of the castle, and none of them were outside. But I saw again a sight that will haunt my nightmares: the Count, crawling out of a window. This time, he was wearing my clothes. And slung over his shoulder was that bag he had thrown to the women and I know now what he does when he goes out at night.
    And just then I thought of something: my clothes. My clothes. If anyone saw him inside a house, snatching away some young child in the middle of the night, they would describe my clothes. I wondered if he thought of this or if he just got some perverse thrill wearing them.
    As I was staring out the window, particles of dust became illuminated by the moonlight. It was an awesome sight to behold because they looked like little stars dancing in the night in front of me. Just when I thought it was done a new crop of dust would blow into the fray and it would start over. I felt my eyes grow heavy and I got the sensation that I should sit down. My mind started spinning … I was being hypnotized.
    More and more the dust danced and the moonlight seemed to grow brighter. And then the dust began to take on these phantom shapes , like a ghost. It reached out to touch me as if it were a hand and I screamed and ran from the window.
    The shapes the dust was taking were of those three women.
    I dove into the bed and covered myself with the bedding. I lay there a long time and didn’t hear anything. Then I heard something from the Count’s room down the hall. It was a scream, like a child’s scream. I’m usually pretty tough, but I began to cry and I couldn’t stop. Once the tears started coming, I couldn’t stop.
    I cried until there was nothing left and I was completely emotionally drained. But the screaming didn’t stop, and now it was coming from outside. I thought I heard someone and I ran to the window. Looking down, I could see a woman there. Young and beautiful like all the Count’s women. She was clutching her heart and crying.
    “Give me back my baby you fucking monster!”
    She was on her knees beating at her breasts and screaming. She looked to me and screamed as if I held any power here and I felt so sorry for her I would’ve cried again if I had anything left. The woman stood and ran to the door of the mansion and began pounding on the door. From up above, in the Count’s room, I heard his voice. It bellowed a