บท 7: Escape Success?
""Awesome!?"" Yell Vlad and Ingrid, their words, while the same, delivered with different inflections. While Vlad sounds disbelieving, upset even, Ingrid sounds curious, prideful, as though he'd personally given her the compliment, and not just her entire species, which, when you think about it, is about as vague as you can get when complimenting a group of something.
Suddenly, Ingrid clamps down on her reaction, her face becoming rigid. She had lost concentration for a moment, and as a result, reacted to Robin's declaration much more than she'd intended to. Now, her face conveys nothing but the usual boredom and apathy that occupy it.
Robin moves closer to the Dracula siblings, the general air about him screaming of enthusiasm. Clearly, vampirism was a topic he'd been dying to talk about for some time, and until now hadn't gotten an opportunity. "Yeah! I know everything there is to know about them!" Having said this, Robin pauses, before pointing to the mirror behind Vlad and Ingrid. "Well..... at least I thought I did. How come you've got reflections?"
Turning to the full body mirror, Vlad faces his reflection as he answers Robin's question. "Well... we don't come into our full powers till our sixteenth birthday. So, before then, we've got reflections, we can't turn into bats, and we don't bite people."
Having kept her eyes on Robin while Vlad explained -because she still thinks the geek is suspicious- Ingrid turns to her brother. "Speak for yourself, garlic muncher!"
Having said this, Ingrid then turns back to Robin, snapping her teeth at him viciously.
"Yah!" Yelps Robin, more surprised than scared. Though, it seemed that was enough.
Ingrid laughs, her voice haunting in its beauty. Nothing similar to a witches cackle or a drunks guffaw, her laugh is it's own. A new, macabre, ethereal sort of laugh, seeming unreal not because of the quality of her voice, but the uniqueness of its melody. The thought that this beautiful, bewitching melody had been brought about, inspired, by the fear of another seemed impossible.
Vlad shifts to watch his sister, looking on with dissapproval. His eyes droop and shut in tiredness, exasperation in the way he loudly exhales. *SIGH*
Turning back to Robin, he continues. "We don't burn in sunlight or have an adverse reaction to garlic either."
Chirping in, Robin informs Vlad of his observation, wholey underwhelmed by the true blue facts of vampirism. "You know, for my first vampire, you not coming as across very...."
"Vampiric?" Vlad supplies, a quirk of his eyebrow and a smirk tugging at his mouth.
"Yeah." Affirms Robin. Looking to Ingrid, his uncertain frown transforms into a wide, toothy smile, his eyes gleaming dreamily as he speaks. "Not like her at all. She looks totally like a vampire!"
Ingrid leveled Robin with an unamused stare, unphased by his words, and getting kinda annoyed by his continuous gawking.
Vlad, happy to not seem overtly vampiric, smiles even wider than he already was at Robins comment about not being anything like his sister. Having felt like crap since (not) manipulating the boy, Vlad feels mildly reassured by Robins words, taking solace in the lack of similarity between his sister and him. "Thanks. And, can I say for my first normal kid, you're not coming across very..."
"Normal?" Robin finishes, in mirror to Vlads earlier finishing of his sentence.
Nodding lightly, Vlads mouth shifts into a wry grin, his mood considerably improved by the casual vibe to his and Robins conversation. It feels almost like they're friends...
Ingrid, sick to death of listening to the two 'shooting the breeze' as it's said, interrupts their friendly little chat. Having not gotten any real confirmation that their secret is safe, Ingrid decides to take action, ensuring the pathetic little breather keeps his gob shut.
Grabbing the vampire fanboy by his coat, she pulls him closer to her, glaring scathingly at him as she speaks in a severe, dangerous tone. "Listen to me, meatface! Swear by all that is morbidly evil not to tell anyone about us, on pain of a long and gruesome death!"
Taking a moment to appreciate Ingrid's beauty close up, Robin eventually concedes to her threat. "I swear."
"...Good." Ingrid affirms, satisfied by Robins oath, though not even slightly put at ease. After all, while there's no way he was lying to her, as she'd obviously be able to tell, many things could still go wrong. Letting go of Robin, she turns around and begins to walk away, speaking as she moves towards the door. "Now let's get you out of here before our father decides to have you for dinner and us for dessert."
Not hearing any noise besides her own footsteps, Ingrid turns back to the two boys, adopting an expectant tone as she addresses them. "Well? Come on!" Turning back to the doorway, she continues moving out of the room, a satisfied smirk making it's way onto her face as she hears a hurried scuffling behind her.
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At this time, The Count and his servant Renfield are busy occupying the main hall, the only path through to the castle entryway. The room seems much less spacious now, with suits of armour spaced along the walls, a few chairs dotted about the hall, and various different boxes stacked upon a small table in the middle of the floor.
"Please, Master. Take it out" Renfield begs, whiney and snivelling from his place atop a chair. He stands as still as possible, hands behind his back and body turned to face away from his master.
From his place on his throne, lounging about in a relaxed manner while reading the paper, the Count deigns to give his servant the smallest modicum of his attention. Bringing his paper down from his face, the Count looks to the pathetic worm standing on a chair a few feet away, uncaring to his plight, before moving his gaze back to the newspaper. "No Renfield, it's important you know why you're being punished."
"Is it because I smell?" He asks, unaware of the reasoning behind his punishment.
"No." Answers The Count, turning his head to glance at Renfield for a moment as he continues speaking, before returning his attention to the daily copy of 'VAMPIRISM TODAY'. "Well, you do, but no. That's not the reason."
Renfield, seemingly adopting a shotgun method to his questioning, asks again. "Is it because I picked my nose and ate it?"
The Count, uninterested in the current Q and A going on, drawls slowly. "Noo..."
"After going to the loo without washing my hands?" Renfield finishes, apparently not done with his previous question.
Sickened by his servant, though certainly not surprised, the Count voices his revulsion, face scrunched up in disgust. "No! Eugh! But no." Snapping his head to glare at the servile wart, his eyes glow a bright red for a moment as he answers Renfields question. "The reason you're being punished is BECAUSE I'M HUNGRY!!! In fact I'm starving, and when I'm starving I get nasty."
Face contorting in various different manners, most likely a reaction to his punishment, Renfield asks the Count for clarification. More like begs, really. "And that's why you put a turantula down me shirt?"
"Correct. And also because I like watching you squirm." The Count informs, his tone becoming chipper as he finishes speaking, a small, self-satisfied chuckle accompanying the conclusion of his sentance.
Renfields voice becomes high pitched in fear, his eyes squinting as if holding back tears -though he isn't- as he speaks. "Oo. Ah! I think she's just gone down me trousers."
Sneaking quietly into the main hall, Ingrid and Robin crouch low behind a large collection of dusty old candle holders, candelabras, and various other candle-centric items. Watching the Count in his throne, the two remain silent as they wait anxiously, keeping as still as possible to not alert the Count in any way.
Unfortunately for them, that didn't really work out too well.
Suddenly, the Count stills. Looking up from his paper, he gazes into the empty air for a moment before vanishing, a 'WOOSH!' sounding out as he does so. Reappearing in front of Renfield, he looks about the room with a searching eye. "You should be quiet. I've sensed an intruder. There is a human in the castle!"
Panicked -and secretly impressed- by her fathers almost immediate discovery of robins presence, Ingrid holds her breath in an attempt to lessen her presence, placing a hand over Robins mouth to quiet him down as well.
Renfield, eager to inform his master of an important fact, hops down from the chair he'd been instructed to stand on, the massive turantula in his pants forgotten about. "I'm human, master."
"Yes, well, a human that doesn't smell of mouse droppings." The Count clarifies, sniffing the air as he paces slowly forward, attempting to track his prey via scent.
"Mhmmn. I smell young blood!" The Count declares, flourishing his cape, a *CRACK* echoing through the castle hall from his action (somehow?). Stalking forward with an increased sense of vigour and confidence, most probably due to the knowledge that he's hunting a child and not a hunter or slayer, the Count inches slowly closer to where Ingrid and Robin are hidiing. "Right! Where are you?"
The shadows he casts on the floor contort and creep slowly forward, moving impossibly against the glow of numerous candles lighting the hall.
"So close, so very close." The Count states, with a short, sadistic laugh punctuating his words, stopping where he is to re-aquire the scent. Breathing deeply, he resumes his hunt as he glides forward, crouching lower to the ground as he bares his fangs, anticipation for the kill exagerating his already prominent hunger. "Come to daddy!"
Having come up with a vague strategy during their journey towards the castles main hall, Vlad had split up with the two in preparation for stage two of their plan. -Stage one being, 'Get Robin to the hall without any interruptions'-
Commencing stage two, Vlad enters from the dining room entrance to the main hall. He'd taken a small detour in order to enter the room far away from Ingrid and Robin. Hopeful he'd be able to attract the attention of the Count and Renfield long enough for Ingrid to get Robin out of there, he speaks out from the dining room entryway. "Daddy? Can I have a word?"
Surprised by the sudden appearance of his son, The Count turns to him. "Not you. I'm trying to find dinner!"
Vlad, not having thought of what to say while moving -preoccupied by his anxietys as he was-, begins to speak in an uncertain tone, bullsh*tting as best he can. "Well, it's just.... I think I've..." Saying the first thing that comes to mind, Vlad looks his father in the eyes as he speaks, holding his gaze as best he can while lying to his face. "...got my first fang."
Intrigued, Renfield focuses his attention on the boy, not ever having heard of a vampire getting their fangs this early. While it wasn't likely he had actually gotten his first fang, if he had, he'd be an incredibly interesting specimen. Not that it would matter though, as The Count would skin him alive before he would let him run any tests on his precious son and heir.
Eyes widening to almost comical degrees, The Count forgets his hunt, at least temporarily, and moves to inspect Vlad. Striding across the cold stone floor with purpose and grace. "A fang. Oh my boy!"
Having made his way to Vlad, who was still standing in the doorframe between the main hall and the dining room, the Count gently grabs onto his jaw. "Let me have a look."
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As Vlad holds the attention of his father and Renfield, Ingrid takes the opportunity to sneak Robin out of there. Moving as swiftly as they can without making too much sound, Ingrid and Robin sneak across the room, extremely consious of how dangerous this is, and how they should've come up with a much, MUCH better plan than this. Having made it almost all the way to the threshold between the main hall and the entry hall, feelings of relief begin to wash over the two, slightly premature in their appearance. That is until, in the background, Ingrid hears the words of The Count as he examines Vlads teeth.
"Hmm. I can't see anything. Nevermind, my favourite child!" He says, unperturbed by his sons lack of fangs.
Freezing in place for a moment, Ingrid grits her teeth in anger, a familiar hurt curling throughout her being, before forcing it down and dragging a confused Robin out into the entry hall.
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Having noticed the presence of the Counts pet once more due to her resumption of movement, Renfield again begins to make strange noises. "OO. Ah! Ouohaoo!!"
"What is it now you moronic INGRATE!?!" The Count hisses as he looks to Renfield, irritated by the interruption of what he perceived as a father-son moment. After all, his son didn't often take an interest in things of a vampiric nature.
"I..... uh... I think you're tarantula has just crawled out of my pants, Master!" Renfield clarifies in great relief, hazarding a glance down to confirm that the spider has, indeed, vacated his pants through his left pant leg.
Turning his head down to look at his pet, the Count smiles as he looks at her, regarding the hairy, nightmarish demon from hell with warmth and fondness. "Ah, Emelda!"
As his father moves to scoop up his turantula, Vlad takes the opportunity to excuse himself, following the unseen Ingrid and Robin into the entryhall while his father whispers sweet nothings at his hairy ass spider. Hopefully he won't notice his absence...
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Chapter 7: 2293 words (not including this bit)
I've been on a bit of a writing binge lately, so I've got a few chapters in stock for the next few weeks incase something comes up, or I get writers block, or something. Point is, you won't be without chapters for a while.... unless what I've done somehow gets deleted. Which has happened before, sooo...
Anyway. If you enjoyed the chapter, stones please? If you notice any problems or glaring issues, put'em in the comments, and if you've got any constructive criticism, I'm always open to growing as an author. I wish you a wonderful day! Goodbye!!!
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