“It began when I was your age. My father like me, had a fondness for
the gypsies. To us, they were a misunderstood people who had been
given gifts beyond common understanding. Listening to their stories
we learned the truth of their lives and beliefs. For the most part,
they were indeed believers in a faith both innocent and pure. Only,
due to superstitions and false beliefs, those around them took it as
evil,” my father said softly. “As a result, we became hated for
trusting these people and opening our homes to them.”

“Father,” I asked softly as I shook my head “why are others so
ignorant towards others they don’t understand?”

“They are ignorant because they choose not to listen or understand
that which they do not know. For to do so,” he sighed “is to admit
that there are things in this world you do not know. Those with
simple minds cannot admit to this.”

Nodding, that I understood, my father continued.

“Amongst those that I had befriended, was a young boy name Antonio,”
he said with a smile. “Like me, he had a pension for getting into a
great deal of mischief.”

Laughing, I could picture in my mind my father being taken over his
father’s knee as his hide was tanned.

“For years we were inseperable except when he went into the village
on errands as my father had me taken to the study for studies,” my
father explained. “It was during such a time that my mother was
teaching me how to read and write not just our ancient tongue but
that of the common tongue used by the villagers.”

Taking a moment, he closed his eyes and paused.

“If it is too painful,” I began, but was met with my father’s hand
being placed gently upon my face.

“It must be told so that you might fully know and understand the
truth,” he said seriously. “I was finishing my lesson when Antonio
came to us as a huge commotion reached our ears. He told us that men
had come to kill my father, mother and I for being loyal to the
gypsies and being under the spell of the dark one. We fled to the
tunnel that led to the forgotten crypt where you saved my life. In
time, my father came to us carrying Antonio. He told me that he had
to be taken to the healer as an accident took place. While in the
heat of fighting for his life, my father blindly struck out at the
one who tried to save him. When Antonio died, the curse was put
upon my life. For years, my father did all he could to prevent the
curse from taking hold of me, but the old gypsie died before she
would reverse the curse. Upon my birthday when I came of age, I
entered the battle to save our lands from an invasion from the
northern lands. Victory was at hand when my world was changed.”

Getting up, my father walked over to a small wall and removed a
brick. Within the hole left was an object wrapped in a dirty cloth
that was marked with stains as if of blood that had long been dried.
Coming back over to me, he handed it to me.

“Open this up my daughter and gaze upon the instrument that changed
me forever,” he said coldly.

As I removed the cloth, I saw an old dagger much like the one I used
to kill the man who was going to drive the stake into my father’s
heart.

“A warrior of the enemy had charged my father and was going to stab
him in the back. I ran and shoved the man away and in the struggle,
killed him. Going to my father’s side, everything happened so
quickly. Before he realized it was me, he turned and drove his sword
through me. When he had pulled the sword away, he mumbled the
gypsie’w word that when I was of age a terrible death I would meet on
the battlefield. For there was no greater death than that to be
killed by your own parent. I felt cold as death took me and was
placed in the crypt far below the grounds of the castle. For three
days and nights I lay there lifeless and then awoke. Fighting to get
out of the crypt, I broke loose the grate that led to the underground
paths and made my way blindly back into the castle. Upon seeing me,
my father wept in horror. The next night, I found him and my mother
both dead. During the day, a servant who had learned that I had
returned cursed had murdered them as they slept. From that day on I
struggled with who and what I was until I met your mother,” as he
paused, he looked at me and pulled me to him as he saw the tears
flowing from my eyes.

“It must have been awful for you to have gone through all of that,” I
said through my tears.

“Yes my dear one it was,” he said “only it was not until your mother
came that it became worthwhile.”

“How so,” I asked unsure of what he meant.

“I was returning from the castle of another like to myself named
Count Felix VanBrueher. His wife had just bore for him twin sons.
The first born was named Tristan and the second was named Draco. I
had gone to see the children for Felix was sure that one day, I too
would have the honor of such a gift although I myself doubted it
completely,” my father smiled. “On the way back, we were passing by
the old ruins of a peasant home near the crossroads when I heard the
cries of a young woman in great pain. I ordered Klove to stop the
carriage and followed the sound to see a group of men brutally
beating and raping a young woman dressed in the colorful clothing of
the gypsies that performed in the village at festivals.”

“What did you do,” I asked intense on hearing the details of my
mother’s rescue.

“I used the stones of the ground and branches of the trees to fight
the men until I could get to their weapons. Once I had, the men were
either killed or ran away into the darkness where their cries were
heard as the wolves made dinner of them,” my father said coldly but
held onto me so I would not be afraid. “Once they were dispatched
of, I took her back to the castle where I tended her until her wounds
were healed. It was not until she was well enough to speak that I
recognized her. When I learned that she was the beloved daughter of
my best friend and colleague in the mountain village did I lose my
heart. For upon escorting her home, did my friend offer her hand to
me. I did not wish to force myself upon your mother or make her
think that she was a reward for my saving her. So I asked her if she
would have me. Upon her saying yes, we were married and she soon
became pregnant with you.”

“So why did she have to die,” I asked feeling a great longing for her
come into my heart.

“There were some that believed that you were the child of the devil
because of what I was. As a result, they felt that if they poisoned
her, it would leave you abandoned and left to die for I could not
take care of you during the long hours of daylight. Instead, when
they poisoned your mother, Klove’s wife at the time took you to her
breast as she had lost her own child at the time of birth. So she
nurtured you until other forms of nourishment could be given. When
you were three, she grew ill and died, but Klove has never stopped
loving you as his adopted daughter since. In turn, he watches over
you by day as I watch over you by night,” my father smiled. “Though
I must admit that with your growing into an adult, it pleases me more
and more that we get to spend more time together. Although it makes
me just as happy that you can spend hours awake in hot warm sunlight.”

Gazing at the sky, I saw that hour would soon be approaching when the
sun would rise.

“Thank you for telling me of the past father,” I said embracing him
and felt the tenderness of his kiss upon my forehead. “Only now I
fear that we must go inside. For the sky tells me the dawn will be
coming fast.”

“You are right my daughter,” he said taking my head as we headed
inside.

“Master,” Klove said seeing us returning inside “there is a matter I
must quickly disguss with you before you retire.”

“What is that my friend,” my father asked seeing the concern on
Klove’s face.

“I have received word that a dear friend of mine has taken ill and
seeks my company for his life has grown short,” Klove began. “As
such I must go to the village to be with him.”

“Go,” my father said understandingly.

“What about the safety of yourself and our daughter,” Klove asked
with great concern.

“Fear not,” my father said with a smile. “It is time for our
daughter and I to both rest. We will retire to the secret chambers
and rest.”

“Very well,” Klove said kissing me on the cheek. “Good night to you
both.”

“God speed on your journey,” I said softly “and may angels watch and
keep your friend that instead of death he is met with increased
health.”

Nodding, Klove left as my father and I made our way to the secret
chambers. Once inside the room, I lay by my father’s side as sleep
took us until the early hours of the evening.

Going to my father as he stood in my doorway, I approached him. In
his usual manner, he smiled softly and opened his arms to me.
Standing there in my father’s embrace, all the doubts, worries and
troubles of the day seemed to vanish. As my head rested against his
chest, I noticed for the first time that the sound of his heart could
not be heard. It would have troubled me if I had not known the
truth. As he released his embrace, but still held me, I met his eyes
with mine. What I saw there was a mixture of love, fear and pain.

“My beloved daughter,” he said softly “tell me why you asked Jacob
about the stories of the past? I thought we had agreed that if you
were to read anything you did not understand in the journals that you
either wait to speak with me or go to Klove for the answers.”

“I was worried about what I had read and Klove was so busy with what
he needed to do that I did not have the heart to trouble him. When I
saw Master Jacob, I asked him as he has never led me astray with
anything he has spoken to me of,” I explained.

Nodding, my father moved away, but held his hand out to me.

“Come,” he said gently, “Klove has dinner waiting for you. What do
you say that while you eat, we sit in the study by the fire so we can
talk in peace.”

“I’d like that,” I said smiling as we headed downstairs.

“Klove,” my father said, “bring my daughter’s meal into the study.”

“Very good,” he said bowing his head and going into the kitchen.

Within a few minutes, my meal was brought to me. It consisted of
roasted chicken breast, crisp green beans mixed with bacon and onion
and Kloves specialty… roasted potatoes seasoned with paprika and
topped with melted cheese.

“Enjoy your meal m’lady,” he said and left promptly.

“Father,” I said softly “I wish you could partake of this meal with
me.”

“So do I,” he said softly. “Only, don’t trouble yourself over that.
Enjoy your food.”

As I ate, he watched with a smile on his face.

“There is something I need to warn you of my daughter,” he said with
a sigh after my dishes were removed by Klove. “In three days you
will be of age and at that time, you will begin to change. Although
you will be able to walk in the hot warm sunlight and partake of such
meals, you will also have a heightening of senses and take on the
features that I here possess. If you are injured and lose a great
deal of blood, unlike mortals you will not die. Instead, you will
have a great lusting for blood. As such, you will need to feed as I
do. Also, if you are killed, I will have the power to call you from
the grave and have you live as I do in eternal darkness,” he said
softly. “However, if an enemy kills me, you will be released from
that part of you which is most like me and will be mortal and die as
all mortals do.”

“Father,” I said looking at him, “you speak of this as if it is a
curse. Why do you do that?”

Looking at the pain in his eyes, I wanted to cry.

“It is a curse,” he said softly. “You do not know how much I wish
that you did not have to suffer this as I do. Though I am curious on
one thing.”

“What is that my father,” I asked placing my hand upon his.

“After all you have read and what you were told,” he said softly
matching my eyes with his as his voice became filled with pain. “Why
do you not hate or fear me?”

“All my life, you have been my father,” I said softly. “That is how
I see you. I don’t see you as a monster or as being cursed or a
demon as others might. I see the one who helped to give me life and
who has loved me all my life as I love him. How could I hate you?
For to hate you is to hate that part of me that is most like you and
I can’t do that. I love you and always will.”

“You are so much like your mother,” he said standing in front of me
and taking my hands into his.

As I rose, he embraced me to him tightly but not enough to hurt me.
In his embrace, I could feel tears on his face.

“Please father,” I said drying his tears with my thumbs “don’t weep.
I didn’t mean to make you feel sad.”

“No,” he smiled. “They are tears of joy and love for you my dear.
Now let’s go outside to the gardens so I can properly answer your
questions.”

Once in the gardens, we sat beneath the light of a full moon on a
bench amongst the roses. In the distance, the sound of wolves
howling made the night seem magical.

“Where would you like to begin my child,” he asked tenderly.

“Tell me the story of how you became what you are and how you met my
mother. I don’t understand how she died,” I said softly.

“Then I will tell you all and if we run out of time, come to my
chambers with me to rest and I will continue it when awake,” he said
softly.

“Alright,” I said nodding.

Taking a breath, my father gazed up at the sky as if allowing them to
guide him to the point where the story would begin.

Slowly the sun began to set as the shadows of evening lengthened. In
the coolness of the evening, Alice began to stir.

“Are you alright my daughter,” Dracula asked with a gentle concern.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned softly. “I’m fine. Just trying to shake the
sleep.”

“In that you are so much like your mother. She too had a hard time
waking when sleeping soundly,” he laughed softly.

Getting up and stretching, Alice looked at her father who was even
more pale than normal.

“You need to hunt don’t you,” she asked softly.

“Unfortunately, ” he said sighing heavily. “I cannot begin to tell
you how sorry I am for what I have become.”

“You do not need to apologize,” she said embracing him
tenderly. “What you have become was not your choice or doing. It
was the pain of a grieving mother that caused you to change. In time
I have a feeling that it will be love that saves you.”

Smiling softly, Dracula sighed.

“You have no idea how much I wish you were right. Only…” he began
than stopped.

“Please father,” she said softly “don’t say that only a stake through
the heart and your head being taken will be the only ways to free
you. I can’t believe that. I won’t believe that. As long as life
or death is mine I will find a way to set you free of this curse even
it cost me my life.”

Holding Alice close, Dracula kissed her forehead.

“Go now to the kitchens and get something to eat while I hunt. When
I come back we will be expecting a visitor. Don Rosario will be
stopping by this evening and can fill in other areas of the story I
have told you of the past,” he said extending his hand to her.

“I’ll be happy to see Don Rossario again,” Alice smiled warmly. “Be
safe father.”

Once at the main hall, they parted company for a short while, but to
Alice, it felt like a lifetime.

Dracula never really got over the death of his wife…His daughter was
now his only comfort in the long, dark years of his
existence… Perhaps it would have been better had he died rather than
Antonio…the curse had taken him, killed by the hand of his own
father, into the depths of Hell…For him, there was no salvation… no
hope..no love…His only other friend was Don Rosario di Cappodocia,
the local priest, whose life Dracula once saved. Don Rosario was old
and wise and had helped much in the bringing up of Dracula’s daughter.
Also, Don Rosario’s family lived very close to Castle Dracula, and the
two boys were firm friends from a very young age. Dracula recalled the
first time he saw Don Rosario on his return to the village years after
the curse took him. Don Rosario could not believe that his friend was
dead, and brought back to life in such a dreadful fashion. There was
still much to tell, and Don Rosario would be visiting the following
night…Then, Alice would learn more of the fate of her father, and of
how he could be redeemed…

Once in my room, I lay down upon my bed and began to sleep. It was a
peaceful sleep until nightmares filled my mind. I saw dark images
that my father was trapped in the forgotten crypt and attacked.
Three men were standing over a coffin in which my father lay and one
pounded a wooden stake into his heart. The blood was everywhere.
Then I saw one hold something up as the other cut off my father’s
head. As my eyes focused on the object I saw it was my father’s dead
heart. In fear, I opened my eyes and ran to the forgotten crypt.
What I saw there changed my life forever.

Three men were standing over a coffin with stake and machete in
hand. Inside was the still form of my father. Only, I was in time
to stop them from doing anything. Quickly and quietly, I took
another knife that I saw on the table behind the men and threw it at
the one closest to my father with the wooden stake in his hand. It
hit between his shoulders and the man turned and stumbled before
falling to the floor dead.

“FATHER,” I screamed seeing my father’s eyes fly open as he began to
attack the other two men rendering both lifeless.

“Child,” he said looking at me with fangs still visible and eyes
glowing red “what are you doing here? I have told you this place is
forbidden.”

“I dreamt that three men came and killed you by staking you and
cutting out your heart after taking your head. It was too real for
me to ignore and I came here. Forgive me for disobeying you, but I
had to. I was afraid that I would have lost you,” I said in tears.

Coming to me, he raised my face to meet his. His teeth were normal
and his eyes were no longer red.

“What happened here,” he asked pointing to the man he did not kill.

“I saw them acting like I did in my dream. On that table, there was
the knife. I took it and threw it at him so he could not hurt you,”
I said shaking. “I killed him.”

“Shhhh,” my father said holding me in his arms against his chest. “I
feared this day would come. I’ve hoped you would never find out.”

“Now you think I will hate you and fear you like the others do,” I
said holding onto him with as much strength as I could.

“Yes,” he said softly. “My child if you do, I will understand.”

“Father, you are the one who gave me life and have done all you could
to make sure I’ve needed for nothing. I love you with all my heart.
The only things I fear are your anger or doing something to meet with
your disapproval because I love you. I don’t fear you,” I said
meeting his eyes with mine so he could see the sincereity in
them. “I’ve read all the legends even the one about the curse.
Knowing why you are like this keeps me from fearing the unknown.
Tonight, I know you’ll tell me everything you can.”

“You are so much like your mother,” he smiled. “I’ve been hurt, he
said and need to rest in order to heal. Meet me in the library on
the eighth hour of the evening and we shall talk.”

“Don’t send me away from you father,” I said. “I’ll not be able to
rest knowing what has happened here. Let me stay so I know you are
safe.”

“Then come with me child,” he said taking my hand.

Leading me to a secret chamber void of windows and light, he lit a
candle to reveal a chamber containing a small table with books upon
it and a bed. As he lay down on the bed, I lay beside him. I should
have been afraid, but my heart would not let me. How could I hate
and fear the one I loved so much?

With a smile I opened my eyes as the memory faded. Turning I saw the
figure of my father in the doorway.

“Father,” I said getting up from the chair I was sitting in and went
to him. “I’ve missed you.”

Sitting in the great hall that contained my father’s study, we sat by
the fire in two large wingback chairs. As the fire’s glow danced
upon our skin and warmed us, Jacob slowly began to speak. All the
while never taking his eyes from the fire as it danced in the hearth.

“Many years ago in the time of your grandfather, gypsies were a
prominent source of entertainment but feared because they were said
to control magic. Only, the magic they used was not the freakishly
comical waving of arms and pulling things from boxes with false
bottoms. Instead, it was gifts of darkness in which they would curse
people and foretell the future. Seen as servants of the devil, they
were hated and feared. Often left to beg for money and food. Your
grandfather took pity upon these people and took them in and gave
them shelter, food, and work for which he paid them handsomely which
made the villagers quite angry,” he said swallowing hard.

“Even now,” I said softly “they hate my father saying he is in league
with the devil because he once loved a gypsy woman.”

“Yes he did, but we shall get to that in due time,” Jacob said taking
my hand. “One day, the son of a gypsy heard a story that villagers
disguised as his people were going to the castle to kill your
grandfather, grandmother and father. Being loyal to your family, he
raced as fast as he could on foot back to the castle but arrived too
late. The battle for the lives of your family had already begun.
The young boy no more than your age found your mother and father and
led them to the secret tunnels where they were able to hide in a long-forgotten family crypt. When he found your grandfather he saved his
life by stabbing the man who was going stab your grandfather in
back. Out of rage in battle, your grandfather turned and killed the
young boy. Only after all was done, did he look over the dead and
dying and found him. For days, he tried to save the young boy’s
life, but God wanted the waif more. When the boy died, the body was
taken back to his mother who blamed your grandfather for destroying
her world. It was out of grief that she acted and placed a curse
upon your grandfather and father that you father would died a
terrible death in battle and come back a vampire. There is more to
the story, but only your father knows that part.”

“So what of the stories that my father fell in love with a gypsy
woman,” I said curiously.

“He did,” Jacob said smiling with a deep sadness now to his
face. “One evening when your father was returning from visiting a
business colleague he saw a sight that sickened him. Three villagers
were mishandling a young woman. He ordered his carriage to stop and
fought them. Taken the frightened and injured woman back to the
castle, he tended her wounds and took care of her until her health
returned. He learned that she was the orphaned daughter of a Baron
not well-liked for having taken a gypsy woman as his bride. Her name
was Lucy.”

“My mother,” I said looking at him in shock. “She was part gypsie?”

“Yes,” Jacob said smiling as he saw my face begin to glow. “When it
was learned what your father had done for her, many came to his gates
telling him she should be handed over to them and burned at the stake
for possessing the gifts of witchcraft as her blood was tainted. He
refused and instead, took your mother to the church was Don Rossario
baptized her and taught her the Christian ways. In time she became
accepted by most save the old ones. When it came time to give birth
to you, a servant loyal to the old ones slipped poison into the water
used to clean your mother after giving birth as well as the water she
was to drink. Two hours later, she was found dead. Your father was
heartbroken beyond words. As a result, those of us loyal to your
father along with Don Rossario have raised you and kept you safe in
the hours your father can not be with you as he watches over you by
night as you sleep.”

“Thank you for sharing these things with me Jacob,” I said with a
smile. “Now I know there are things you must do to prepare for my
father’s return. I’ll be in my room resting a bit. I was promised
by father that he would allow me to stay up this night longer with
him if I rested before he returned.”

“Very good,” Jacob said embracing me. “I’m sure when you speak to
your father tonight he will explain all.”

Sitting in the library on the eve of my 13th birthday, the sun was
shining bright and warm against my pale skin. In my hands was a book
telling the history of my father’s side of the family. For the most
part, each tale that was told was written as a legend of some deed
done in the past. Some were tales of vanquished heros and soldiers
who were impaled upon long stakes and their hearts eaten and blood
drunk like wine. Although it sickened me to read such details, such
was the events of warfare back then in the uncivilized days prior to
my birth.

Just as I came to the part of the book where my father was the age I
was to become, a new tale was written there about his father.
Although the details in part were sketchy, the idea when pieced
together was simple. A gypsy woman who had long served my
grandfather had a son no older than my father was at the time. The
gypsy’s son unlike the stereotype the people had of that race was
wise, kind, and loving. He had learned that others who hated the
gypsies that served my grandfather was coming to the castle to kill
him dressed in the garb the gypsies wore. Although the enemies to my
grandfather were killed, by accident so was the gypsy’s son who came
too late to warn him.

When my grandfather came to the woman with the body of her son, she asked
who had killed her boy…her only son. My grandfather sorrowfully
admitted the deed in the course of relating the attack on him and his
family. Distraught over the death of her child, the gypsy woman
placed a curse upon my grandfather.

“When of age your son becomes, a war shall rage in your land. Upon
the field, your only son will die a horrible death from which he shall
return to be buried. Once in the ground for three days and nights,
he shall arise the undead forever hunting the night for blood. So
shall be his fate for all time unless he is destroyed by stake, fire, and God.”

Reading this story, I knew that the curse was meant to turn my father
into a vampire destined to wander through time as an undead void of
soul and forever a horrible and terrible monster to be hated and
feared. As hot tears stung my eyes, I closed the book and set it
upon the shelf where I got it from.

“Lady Alice,” our dear loyal servant Jacob said softly to me “are you
alright?”

“Jacob, there is something I just read in the book of family legends
about my father having been cursed to become a creature of darkness.
How much of that story is true,” I asked softly.

“That is something that you must ask your father tonight when he
returns home from his business,” he said with a sigh. “It is not my
place to explain something that does not pertain to myself.”

“Then tell me what you know of the legend and what it says please,” I
said softly.

With a sight, he hesitated and looked at the clock. It would be hours
yet until the evening would come.

“Very well,” he said “but remember this is only what I have heard
tell in the village amongst the fools that hate your father.”

Castle Dracula, Christmas Eve Morning, Year of our Lord 1534

The snow lay thick upon the ground when Vladimir woke up. he was anxious- today was Christmas Eve,and his coming of age and into his inheritance. he walked over to the window and looked out. The cold winter sun was bathing the snow-covered courtyard in an eerie yellow light…the sunbeams glanced off the icy ground like a hail of diamonds…a beautiful day, but for Vladimir, the sense of doom would not leave… The curse of the gypsy ran through his mind…Amira had been specific.. he would die,but not die,and would exist on this earthly plane for all eternity, an entity of evil, doomed to feed off his fellow-man, until he found a woman who would love him enough and truly to do what was needful to release and redeem his soul…whoever it ewould be would have to strike with true love in their heart and pray for his redemption…He had heard of vampires, but didn’t believe…his father had told him that they only existed in the world of legend and hearsay..and that the curse was no more than a ploy to try and weasel her son into the family as successor. Vladimir wanted to believe that this was the case, but something didn’t gel for him… he had heard his father talking of the night, and of things that were best left buried and unsaid…He shuddered as he remembered the incident with Rosario…the feeling he had, and of leaping out of the second storey window and reaching father Gerontius before he drowned…he remembered that the feelings were dispelled by prayer, but most of all he remembered the coarse evil voice of the gypsy as she cursed his father, and him in his turn..her son was killed in a freak accident, one that had cost his father dearly…but the die was cast… words were spoken that could not be retracted…he eyed his suit with little joy…he had no idea of what was to come…only speculation and wild conjecture…