The Vampire Awakes

Nestled in the valley and cast into shadow by the monstrosity that is Castle Duckula rests the forever sleepy Transylvanian village.

Sleepy, that is, but for the horse and carriage clattering noisily down the mainstreet.

"Oh, what a pretty little village!" Emily exclaimed as she stepped down with her large carry on bag. The driver flicked the reigns and the carriage did a U turn and left.

"Now, what am I looking for?" She cast her eyes around the cobbled square. "A big house." She picked a direction and headed that way. This way and that, everything was just timeless. Flowers in the window boxes, Shutters on the windows, garlic strung up with the curtains ...

"Garlic?" Emily frowned to herself. "A bit superstitious ... it'd certainly never stop me if I wanted in." She got to the outskirts of the village without a sign of a large house. "Well, bother." She sighed, "I'm fed up with all this running around." She came back to the town square where the carriage had dropped her off, and this time noticed the Ye Tooth and Jugular inn. "It's not a very big place, this village," she remarked, looking around the square again.

"They can't get a lot of trouble here." She pushed open the door of the inn and stepped inside. "I feel safer all ..." The noisy pub fell into a sudden hush. "... ready." All eyes were on Emily in her plain brown travelling clothes. 'They mustn't get a lot of visitors.' She reasoned.

Emily cast her eyes over the non-vampire patrons. There was no Von Ganderak, so in her books this was great news.

She stepped up to the bar. "I'm looking ..." she sniffed the air for a clue as to what the others were drinking. "... For some warm root beer, and if it's not too much trouble, some information."
"We ..." The innkeeper flinched. "We're all out ... outta ..." She gazed more intently at him. No way had she survived this many months on the run to be cut down by some little innkeeper and she opened her aura field to let him feel it. "... out the ... back there's some more-gimme a moment."
"Thank you."

Emily turned to review the clientele. This whole village was like stepping into history. She looked from one patron to the next, inwardly shuddering.

'When did that guy last bath? ... I'm cleaner than he is and he lives in a proper house while I sleep in haystacks! ... Have these people never heard of soap? ... Yee-ugh!'

She finally concluded they were all in various states of unkemptness below her meal standards. 'This is certainly not a place I'd like to get hungry.' She reviewed her health and sighed in relief that she was okay at the moment. 'I better try to keep myself healthy in this place or I really will be unhealthy!' Emily turned back to the bar. 'It was certainly worth the money preserving my energy and taking a carriage ride instead of flying in. That definitely would've made me hungry for a snack.'

The bartender returned, handing her the mug of warm root beer.
"Lovely, thank you." Emily took a quick sip and sighed. "That's better."

"What brings a ..." the innkeeper swallowed, no doubt still feeling her presence. It wasn't enough to stop him for too long, however, and he carried on after a moment, "... uh, a dame like you 'round these 'ere parts?"
"I've been told there's a vampire what lives 'round these 'ere parts." She answered, automatically mimicking his accent and then took another gulp of her drink.
"Ach, yer not talking about ... 'im up yonder?"
Emily blinked. "Pardon? Up where?"
"Up in thar castle."
"Castle Duckula." The villagers pointed to the window.

"Oh, blood." Emily cursed and carried her mug to the table beside the window. She stared through the dusty square window panes up at the castle, in obvious full looming view. "Oh-'eck't's-yuge!" She squawked and took a large swig of the warm drink, now wishing it tasted very differently because she could've done with a bit of the other stuff. "Where's-my-blooming-courage-gone?" She cursed herself and took another swig of the refreshment.

Then it occurred to her to ask her audience the personality she would be facing once she got to the castle. "Hey, fellahs, what's the count like? Is he noice? Is he all stuffy? Is he got a temper or what?"

The pub was silent back at her for a moment. Apparently she wasn't alone in the search for courage.
"Well, you said it."
"You mean; 'im up there?"
"Yes, 'im up there." Emily confirmed, patiently acknowledging the mixed levels of intelligence and high level of nervous tension in the crowded room. "Is 'e noice?"
"He's a ..."
"... Vampoire."
"If you value yer life, yeh'll never go out at night."
"You never know when 'e might strike."
"He'll take you and bite yeh neck and ..."

Emily gaped at their terror. "You make it sound like it were your population what's dwindling! And I'll tell yer plainly it ain't! There's plenty 'o 'ouses down here and there's plenty 'o you in 'em, an' 'e's been there a great while longer 'en you, so what's that say aboat 'im then?" She glared hotly at them.

Emily put the mug to her beak and drained her mug of the dregs, attempting to drown her hunger inspiring temper. She looked down at the bottom of the mug, finding her calm again. "What a backwards lot you are." She put down her empty mug. "Fancy livin' out here, all alone, with just you lot to be scared o' 'im." She paced towards the bar and dropped a few drachmas.

"Now I must be off to meet this Count. He's probably gone crazy for company, is all what it is that's the matter with 'im." She grabbed up her carry bag and presented the innkeeper with another couple of drachmas. "If you please, sir. I require an empty bedroom with a locking door for ten minutes, and a jug of unused water with a basin? Please?"
"A room for ten minutes?" He repeated.

"It's already on nightfall and I ain't goin' up no hill to visit no count vampoire lookin' like Enrietta Scarecrow." She scoffed. "Cor blimey. I ain't got no pedigree so I gotta at least look edible."
He stared at her for a moment. "Up the stairs, first door to the right."
"Cheers, keep." She dropped the coins on the counter and waited for him to present her with the jug.
She snatched it and headed for the stairs.

"Did you want a mirror?" He called after her. "Coz ..."
Emily paused on the stair and turned back to him. "What the heck for? This isn't a magic act; I'm just cleaning myself up. And even if it were I'd be covered in tomatoes for my trouble coz I can't do magic anyway." She snorted and continued up the stairs with her bag over her shoulder and the jug in her hands.

Duckula returned to the Castle alone after insisting that Igor and Nanny continue their holiday. After his nice hot bubble bath combined with the self inflicted torture session with the scrubbing brush he felt almost comfortable in his own feathers again.

He sat down in front of his desk but didn't get the chance to find his concentration again when there was a knock on the door. "Oh, well." He shrugged and went downstairs to find out what they wanted this time.

Duckula gaped at the young lady duck standing there. 'Wow-ee!'

Her straight raven hair glinted in the silvery moonlight, her eyes were crystal blue. Her grey and white plumage was preened to glossy perfection. Her sequinned navy dress finished the look perfectly. Yes, the count could see her performing an aria on Eurobirdvision, and he'd have rung in his vote for her despite having the TV on mute.

He blinked and looked away as quickly as he could unfreeze himself and belatedly observe social etiquette. She was too beautiful and he didn't feel very clean anymore. He looked at his fingers, recalling the almost-Nanny-intense scrubbing he'd given himself not half an hour earlier.

"Excuse me, sir. I was wondering if you could help me. My name is Emily Artisia."

"I think you've come to the wrong place, Miss Artisia. This is Castle Duckula." 'Vampires don't help people,' his thoughts added on as he tried to keep his gaze from her neck, shocked in himself to suddenly find it a problem after so many years of not looking at necks, 'they eat them.'
"Please, sir. I am looking for Count Duckula. I'm told a Count Duckula lives here."
"Well, how about that." He moved aside from the door to allow her entry. "I guess I 'can' help you."
"You 'can'?" She stared hopeful at him through the doorway with her wide innocent looking eyes.
"As it just so happens: I 'am' Count Duckula." He bowed.

"Oh, at last!" She pushed past him, and a gleam of suspicion arose in his mind as as she faced away from him. He watched her gazing around at the great hall in all its tragic despair. 'Is this the slayer Scotland Yard had sent, perhaps? About time. Put me out of my misery.' He swung the large door shut, noticing absently how much easier moving big things seemed to be nowadays.

The woman duck turned back to him, a stricken look on her face. "I'm being chased."
"Oh? So you just want a place to hide." The count was surprised at how disappointed his voice sounded that she wasn't a vampire hunter. "Well, there are plenty of rooms here." He repeated the tired line without any enthusiasm and held his hand out for her bag. He slung it over his shoulder and passed her, heading for the staircase. "I'll get one set up for you."

'At this rate," he thought to himself, remembering the countless people that had wended their way up Transylvania Avenue over the years, 'perhaps I should consider charging flat fees for rent?'