Author's note: This is a very confused fanfic, based on several different "Dracula" stories, but mostly on the Bram Stoker movie. As usual, Dracula is not mine, he belongs to history, Bram Stoker, and half a dozen other people.

My friends had thought I was crazy, to choose a hiking trip in the Carpathians over summer at my friend's villa in the south of France. I suppose after my second night of sleeping in a wet tent I was apt to agree with them. But the sight in front of me as the sun rose above the rocky crags changed my mind. Poienari Castle, or at least what was left of it, stood on the opposite mountainside, overlooking the Arges River. I would make it to my destination by tonight, and I would sleep in the hall of Vlad Tepes, Dracula.

I'm a writer, a romantic, and a history lover. This trip was a pilgrimage of sorts, to find inspiration for what I believed would be my opus, a vampire novel. What better place to begin than the home of the original nosferatu? This was the thought that drove me as I lugged my thirty pound pack up the side of the mountain much later that afternoon. It was much farther from my starting point to the castle than I thought, and once again I was questioning whether this was worth it, or if I ought to just pitch my tent here and hire a horse in the morning.

Worth it or not, I kept trucking it up the mountainside, and was rewarded with the view of the sun setting over the canyon. All of the other tourists had left already, so I was left with just myself, my notebook, and the phantoms of my imagination. I spread out my bedroll and clicked on my flashlight and started on my story. I hadn't been writing for long when I felt a prickling on the back of my neck like I was being watched. I turned my head quickly and spotted a man creeping up behind me. I let out a little scream and scrambled to my feet, the dark and my surroundings making me jumpy.

He was tall, a handsome Romanian man of about his middle thirties, with burning blue eyes and long dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He was regarding me with a look somewhere between confusion and fascination. "Cine eşti tu şi eu , de ce eşti tu aici? »

My mind raced over the little Romanian I knew, trying to figure out what he'd said and put together my response. "I sînt un turist , un scriitor… Numele meu este Beth… uh, Beta."

His eyes got wider. "Elisabeta?"

I laughed a little. Even in another language people still asked that question. "Nu , chiar Beta. Vorbiţi englezeşte?"

He looked a little disappointed. "Yes, I speak English." He answered with a heavy accent.

I gave a little sigh of relief. "Good… my Romanian is very rusty, as I'm sure you noticed. Who are you? I thought I was up here by myself."

"I am… Vladmir, night caretaker. You are here to… write?"

I smiled. "Yes, I'm writing a vampire novel, and I figured this would be a good place for inspiration."

"This is not good place for young woman alone. Very dangerous."

I smiled wryly. "I've managed before." Just then it decided to start raining again. I groaned and began gathering up my things. "Great, now I get to sleep in a wet tent again. I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to be here, I'll just be leaving now."

"Nu, nu… here, follow me… I know somewhere dry." He picked up my pack like it weighed nothing and motioned for me to follow him. I didn't see that there was anything else I could do, so I did. Surprisingly enough, there was a door set off to the side of the crumbling structure, obviously put there by the tourist service. Vladmir opened it and walked inside and I followed.

He switched on an electric lantern, and I could see that we were inside a small restored chapel. I looked around, very touristy, and said, "Wow… I didn't even know this was here. It wasn't in the guidebook."

"Is usually only open to workers and professors, but is warm, and dry. That door goes to the catacombs." He motioned toward another heavy wooden door across the room. I must have looked alarmed, because he laughed. "Don't worry, the dead sleep quietly." He eased up next to me, grinning. "And the other things not so dead, I know personally, and they would not hurt you."

I chuckled nervously. "Well, I'm glad to have your assurance that I won't be vampire chow."

He looked at me oddly. "Chow?"

"Chow, you know, food… dinner." I made a hissing face and pantomimed fangs with my fingers.

He looked puzzled for a moment longer, then smiled and nodded. "Ah, I see, American word… Yes, you have my word that you will not be vampire chow this night. Make yourself comfortable, I shall return." He stepped back out the door, and I unrolled my bed again and lay down on top of my sleeping bag, using it as cushion from the hard stone floor. I had walked hard all day; I slipped into a deep sleep almost instantly.

I had odd dreams. I was soaking wet, as if I'd been out in a storm, and I lay under a thick fur blanket on a large bed. My clothes were somewhere across the room, drying by the fire. Vladmir stood by the fire, laughing, it seemed, at me as he dried himself off. "Elisabeta, I told you not to go out riding today. You knew it looked like rain."

In the dream this seemed completely normal. I sat up, clutching the blanket to myself with one hand and smiling at him. "Yes, Vlad, but if you knew it was going to rain, why did you go with me?"

He laughed and shook his head, stripping off his wet shirt and pouncing onto the bed. "So now we are both stupid and cold. Shall we warm each other up?"

I woke just before his lips touched mine. I was back in the chapel, but still lying under a fur blanket. I sat up, a little startled, and ran my hand over the blanket in confusion. "You looked cold." said an accented voice from across the dim room. I looked over and saw Vladmir looking at me as he shaved bits of a piece of wood away with a short knife.

I sighed, relieved. "Thank you."

"Is no problem. I must go now, my time is over. Shall I meet you here tomorrow evening and show you the castle?"

I had slid back under the blanket, still sleepy. "Sure." My eyes were already threatening to close.

"Until tomorrow then, Elis… Beta." Even as tired as I was, I noticed something. He left through the wrong door.