Standing outside and having no clue what he was doing there, Renfield watched the orange camper wind its way down the hill to the town below.

He turned, looking up at the old stone caste looming over him. He had nowhere else to go, so decided after a few minutes of consideration to go and knock and see if he could stay the night. To his surprise no-one answered but the door opened with a creak.

Stepping into the candlelit entrance hall he squinted as his eyes became accustomed to the dim candle light. Hearing nothing, he ventured further in until he came to a set of large oak double doors. He could hear voices.

"Is he…is he dead?" came a male voice.

Renfield took a step back unsure of what to think or do then reconsidered and pressed an ear to the door.

"You will call me…Countess Dracula" he heard a second person say. The voice was female, young and confident.

'Dracula…' he thought. Where had he heard that name before?

Hearing nothing more he was about to go in, but the double doors swung open knocking him backwards into the shadows. He saw a blur of black fly past, then nothing.

Getting to his feet he peered round the door. A boy of about 14 was lying curled up on the floor and next to him was what appeared to be a stuffed dog on wheels.

An older man (in his late thirties Renfield guessed) was crouching down, looking at the boy with tears rolling down his pale cheeks. This wouldn't have shocked Renfield, if there hadn't been a cage of what appeared to be blue light surrounding the kneeling man.

Renfield shuffled silently and nervously round the door and coughed politely. The man looked up.

"Close the doors" the man said, and Renfield did as he was instructed.

"Good. Now Renfield, get me out of this infernal contraption"

Renfield simply looked at the man. 'Who was he?' he thought, 'and how does he know my name?'

"Before I do anything else for you" He began "Who are you?"

The man stood up. He was tall Renfield noted, a little over 6 foot perhaps, with a pale handsome face framed by his long black hair. He was wearing a cape, yellow and black, under which he wore a red and gold military style jacket over a red shirt, then black trousers and a red sash around his waist.

He spoke in a controlled manner, his voice smooth and deep.

"You know who I am you cre…" He trailed off with an expression of sudden realisation on his face. The corners of his mouth gave a slight twitch and his eyes darted briefly to the left before he spoke again.

"Oh…then I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is…" He appeared to think for a moment "Mr Count".

"Well then good evening to you Mr Count" said Renfield with contempt "What do I do?"

"Come here" he commanded, and Renfield knew from his tone that he had to obey. Mr Count proceeded to show Renfield how to deactivate the device containing him, though why Mr Count could not do this himself Renfield did not know.

Once freed, Mr Count sprinted over to the boy and knelt beside him, holding him in his arms.

Having no idea whether he should comfort the man or stay where he was, Renfield shuffled between his left and right feet looking decidedly misplaced. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mr Count glance up at him, so he shifted his gaze to the opposite end of the room and began to take n his surroundings.

The room was long, and in the centre there stood a large wooden dining table with chairs. To the left of the oak doors he had entered through was an old chaise longue piled high with cushions, and to the left of this was a series of large wooden bookshelves piled high with ancient books.

In that moment, Renfield had what he presumed to be some sort of flashback.

Mr Count and his boy were sitting on chairs in front of him, laughing as the boy pressed a button and a large cream pie came crashing down onto Renfields' head.

It was over as suddenly as it had begun. Taken aback, Renfield staggered and collided with the kneeling Mr Count. The result was instantaneous. Mr Count shot up and in a split second was standing behind Renfield, looming over him with dark red eyes.

"I'm…I'm…" Renfield began, but couldn't finish. There was a look of pure malice in the man's eyes that chilled him to the bone.

"Renfield you, you…" He began with a whisper but Renfield could tell that he was finding it increasingly hard to hold back his anger.

"You are an absolute…" Mr Count's sentence was interrupted by a slight whimper from the boy. In a flash Mr Count was at his side, shaking him gently in an attempt to waken him.

He stirred again, and this time uttered a single word.

"Dad…" came the frail voice.

"I'm here Vladdy" came the reply from Mr Count. So this man was the boy's father Renfield thought. 'Vladdy'…He had heard the name before, and was quite sure that it wasn't a common name for a young boy.

"Renfield, I never thought I'd say this, but you are an absolute genius!" said Mr Count. His previous anger had clearly been replaced with hope and joy.

"Thank-you master" Renfield replies, then clapped his hands over his mouth after realising what he had said. Why had he just called this man 'Master'? The Count didn't pay any attention to this, oddly. If it were Renfield, he would be quite disturbed by being called 'Master' by a complete stranger.

The boys eyes snapped open, as red as Mr Count's had been only a minute before. Sitting bolt upright he looked around, surveying his surroundings then stopped, looked to his left, and dived into the waiting arms of his father.

Their embrace lasted several minutes and they were so tightly stuck together they may have been one person. They broke apart, and having regained his strength a little the boy turned his gaze to Renfield.