Invitation to Immortality

Please take a moment of your time to praise or criticize my work. Both are welcome, honest injun.

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Alexandra Tannenbaum was so excited about her upcoming wedding that she could barely contain herself. There was so much to do to make sure that the arrangements for the upcoming ceremony were complete. Her bridesmaids' outfits had to be properly laid out in their rooms. Her gown and trousseau needed to be laid out as well. The meals, the flowers, and all the other arrangements needed one more inspection. The long-awaited day of her wedding had arrived.

Alexandra was the daughter of the local innkeepers who were among the leading citizens of the town and financially well off. As such, their daughter, Alexandra, would have been among the most eligible maidens in the area for marriage and indeed, she had received multiple marriage proposals from young men of similar status. She had refused them all, preferring to command her own destiny. Alexandra would marry for love and love only. Furthermore, she would do it on this very day.

Her fiancé was Erich von Rothstein, a captain in the Emperor's army, and a member of one of the minor noble houses of Romania. The day he rode into town on his magnificent horse, Alexandra knew that he was the one for whom she had been waiting from the instant she had laid eyes on him.

Tall, dark hair with strong, broad shoulders, the handsome captain of cavalry was being billeted at her father's inn. As he sat at one of the inn's dining room tables finishing his dinner, the captain lifted his eyes to survey the room. It was filled with the rest of his command in various stages of dining along with a peppering of locals. Business was good tonight.

He signaled for the waitress to bring him a second glass of the local wine, which was above average, or at least this particular vintage was. As he watched the waitress walking to the bar to fill his order, the barkeep raised her head and Erich got his first look at his future bride. Before the night was over, not only did he know her name, but he had arranged a meeting for the following Sunday afternoon, after church was over.

It was a whirlwind romance. In less than six months Captain von Rothstein had asked her father for her hand and had been given permission for the couple to wed. Throughout the courtship he had been a perfect gentleman, which was to be expected behavior from an officer in the Austro-Hungarian army. Their interaction had been strictly chaperoned by Alexandra's family, who were strict Catholics and who were determined to see that their daughter was delivered to her marital bed unsullied. So far, they had succeeded.

From her room Alexandra heard the registration bell ring and went downstairs to see what was needed. At the desk she saw a tall man dressed in a livery outfit. "May I help you?" she asked.

Silently, the man handed an envelope to Alexandra. She took it, saying "Thank you," as she looked down to see her name inked in perfect script. She turned it over and saw that it had been sealed with wax and a signet ring. She rotated the envelope and saw that the signet was familiar to her. It belonged to none other than Count Dracula, the region's ruler and patron. Dracula was reclusive, never leaving his castle and preferring to conduct what business he needed to conduct via emissaries, like the footman who was standing in front of her.

Reaching down to take the letter opener from the desk, Alexandra paused and then sliced the letter open, removing it so she could read it. As she read to herself she realized that the letter was both an invitation and a command. "Miss Tannenbaum," it read, "please accept my congratulations on your upcoming wedding to Captain von Rothstein. It has been a tradition in my family for centuries to invite certain prominent couples to spend their wedding night as my guests in my home. I assure you that the accommodations will be to your liking. My wine cellar is justifiably renowned and it would be my pleasure to offer you and your gallant husband your choice of the cellar."

"I apologize for waiting until the last minute to extend this invitation, but I thought that if I waited the disruption of your wedding day would be minimal. Please inform your husband of my invitation. I will be expecting you both at sunset." It was signed "Your servant, Vlad Dracula, Count of Transylvania."

The footman stood rigidly, awaiting a response. After a few moments Alexandra replied. "Please tell the Count that we gratefully accept his great kindness and will be there at the appointed time." Having accomplished the mission he was sent to complete, the footman nodded and then turned to return to his coach.

The plans were already in place. The wedding and festivities were set to begin in two hours. The groom and his entourage would prepare in one wing of the inn while she and her bridesmaids would occupy the other side of the inn, separated so that the groom would not be able to see his bride until they met at the altar. After some quiet thought, Alexandra decided that she would wait until after the ceremony to tell Erich the news that they had been invited by the Count himself to spend their wedding night at his castle.

The wedding was beautiful, but it was Alexandra herself who illuminated the entire room. All the guests remarked that there had never been a more beautiful bride in living memory or in the history of the town for that matter. For his part, the groom was both handsome and fully aware of the radiance of the woman sitting next to him at the head table. The anticipation of the consummation of their marriage was worse than the anticipation of going into battle. It was driving him mad. As they sat together sampling the feast and chatting Alexandra decided that it was time to inform her new husband of the Count's "invitation." "Husband," she whispered, "I have the most wonderful news."

Alexandra explained her visit from Count Dracula's footman and the invitation he had brought to them. "I accepted immediately, Husband," she said, "believing that you would have wanted me to do so. It is a great honor to be invited to Castle Dracula, and on our wedding night. You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Of course I'm not angry, my beloved," said the captain of cavalry as he smiled a loving smile. "Perhaps we should gather our things and prepare for our journey. It's an hour's ride to the castle, the roads are very steep, and we are due at nightfall." With that, they stood, shared a kiss to applause and well wishes and then thanked their guests for their attendance. As the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, they gathered what they would need for the evening. For Erich, it was a small kit bag and a fresh uniform. He needed to look his best for his host. Alexandra packed her honeymoon trousseau, planning to change when she and her husband were finally alone, but did not change out of her bridal gown. When the Count's carriage arrived, they were ready and waiting.

Travelling through the woods at dusk was magical. The tall trees seemed to dance in the shadows and sway from side to side in the gentle summer breeze. Everything was deeply verdant and lush. After close to an hour the coach emerged from the forest and began to climb the narrow approach to the castle. The details of the massive stone structure were difficult to make out in the nearing darkness, but torches illuminated the road. In a few additional minutes Alexandra could hear the clip-clop of the horses' hooves change ever so slightly as the coach pulled up to the castle entrance. The coach driver stood on the brake, secured the reins and descended from his seat to open the carriage door.

First out was Captain von Rothstein who turned to assist his bride by grasping her waist and lifting her out of the coach. He set her down gently and they turned to ascend the dozen or so stone steps arm in arm together while the coachman followed at a discrete distance carrying their belongings. The newlyweds were met by a second footman who opened the massive wood doors. "Good evening," he said. "Welcome to Castle Dracula. Please follow me to the library. The Count will be joining you soon."

The portico to Castle Dracula was both enormous and lavishly decorated. Erich and Alexandra paused to take it all in. The space was a good thirty feet from the floor to the peak. Hanging from the high ceiling over the entrance space was an elaborate chandelier with hundreds of lit candles. Even with all that candlepower the space presented decidedly on the darkish side. A broad stone staircase with wrought iron handrails led to the second floor. Walls of stone were covered with tapestries which were hand woven and depicted local history. Marble busts of the count's relatives stood watch on pedestals throughout the hall.

The young couple sat in the library until the footman returned and announced their host. They stood as Count Dracula in full evening wear entered the room. He was well over six feet tall, handsome, and gracious. "Good evening," he said to his young guests. "Welcome to Castle Dracula. Thank you for accepting my invitation to dinner."

"Thank you, Count, for your gracious invitation," was the Captain of Cavalry's reply as he bowed in respect. Alexandra did her most formal curtsy, bending low, revealing her ample bosom beneath her lace bodice. The Count extended his hand to the lovely bride and said "It is my pleasure to dine with such a gallant Captain and his beautiful bride. Shall we adjourn to the dining room? I have taken the liberty of selecting the wine in advance. I assure you that you will never have a finer vintage."

They entered the dining room which was laid out in the most opulent manner. The table would have easily sat two dozen guests but was set for three. The finest china and solid gold flatware were flanked by multiple crystalline glasses. Trays of fresh fruit reflected the flicker of dozens of candles secured in beautiful candelabras. Count Dracula waited for his footmen to seat his guests before joining them at the table.

It was a leisurely meal punctuated by interesting conversation. The Captain and the Count discussed matters of state and military policy. Occasionally, Alexandra joined in, especially when Count Dracula asked her about life in the town and about her job at the inn. He asked her if business was good. She assured him that her parents were doing well. Dinner continued until almost ten PM. Eventually, the Count pushed his chair back and said "Alexandra, why don't you let my servant show you to your room? I have instructed the upstairs maid to lay out your things. Meanwhile your husband and I can talk a bit more about politics and share some more wine. I promise to be finished with him in, say, half an hour?"

Alexandra thanked her host and followed the footman upstairs. Once she entered the guest bedroom she had to take a minute to compose herself. The room was filled with rose petals. Her most intimate things were laid out on the enormous four poster bed. Alexandra lost no time in washing up after her meal and began changing into her honeymoon lingerie. In minutes her wedding gown and jewelry were removed and folded on a nearby chair. She began the process of assembling herself so that when her husband arrived she would be complete, at her most alluring and beautiful. She had been waiting for this night, her wedding night, her entire life. Tonight she would give herself to her dashing husband.

Back in the dining room, Captain von Rothstein finished his final glass of wine and rose from the table. "Count Dracula," he said, "I wish to thank you for your excellent hospitality, but, as you might imagine I am anxious to join my wife."

"Certainly, Captain," said the Count as he approached and extended his hand. Captain von Rothstein extended his and the two hands clasped. Instead of a brief shake, Count Dracula squeezed tightly, crushing his guest's hand and driving him to his knees. Reaching out with his free hand he grabbed the captain's neck, lifted him completely and effortlessly off the floor as if he were lifting a book off a table, stared him directly in the eyes and threw him against the wall as if he were flicking a bug from his arm. Captain von Rothstein lay there in a crumpled heap, unconscious. The Count matter-of-factly proceeded to climb the staircase.

Alexandra's outfit was pure white, befitting her virginal status. Her knee-length satin robe clung loosely to her curves, accentuating one aspect of her anatomy until she shifted to highlight another. Underneath the robe was a boned white corset, laced tightly enough to cinch her waist and push her magnificent white breasts up and out, barely containing her more than ample bosom. Matching white satin gloves and white garter belt and stockings along with a pair of white heels completed her outfit, except for one thing. As she stood in front of the mirror she reached down for her tiara, a gift from her husband. It was a family heirloom and their marriage had passed it on to Alexandra.

As she stood in front of the mirror for one final inspection, Alexandra caught a glimpse of the magnitude of her true beauty. She indulged herself in a moment of anticipatory reverie, imagining her husband's hands on her back as they embraced. What the beautiful newlywed did not know was that she would never actually experience the real thing. Her husband was dead, his neck snapped like a twig by her host, Count Dracula. What she also did not know was that while she stood admiring herself in the mirror, that the Count stood directly behind her, not five feet away. As the King of the Undead he existed in a kind of netherworld, incapable of casting a reflective image.

Alexandra turned and saw her host standing directly in front of her. "Count Dracula," she asked, "what are you doing here? Where is my husband?"

"He's downstairs, Alexandra, my sweet, but I'm afraid he won't be joining you tonight or ever."

"What?" she blurted in astonishment.

"I'm afraid that he will not be consummating your marriage. I have come to take his place. Tonight you are for me. I claim my ancient birthright as ruler of this land." He reached out gently lifting her face so her beautiful blue eyes met his. From this moment on you will obey me in every way. Do you understand me, Alexandra?"

"Yes, my Count"

So strong was Dracula's influence that she gave no resistance whatsoever. "Tonight is the night we have both been awaiting for so long. Tonight I am your husband and you are mine to do with as I please."

"Yes, my husband," was her reply. "I am truly yours. Do I please you? I want only to please you."

"Tonight," said the Count, "I will please you as well. You are young and know so little of the ways of the marriage bed. I will show you pleasure like you have never imagined even in dreams."

The Lord of Castle Dracula sat in one of the red velvet chairs as he motioned for his "bride" to slowly turn so that he could admire her more closely. The Count was a thousand years old and had played this scene hundreds of times, each time with a virgin bride. Dracula was not only a Count of Transylvania, but King of Vampires as well. He was the strongest of his kind and a voracious feeder.

This need to feed was coupled with a nearly equal need to remain hidden from public scrutiny. He could not very well leave a trail of victims strewn about the countryside. As royalty, the Count was welcomed all across Europe. He took occasional trips abroad where he would feed on local girls for a short while and then return to his homeland.

The Count's not only provided him with extraordinary strength, but with the ability to change into different kinds of beasts, including bats. When he wanted to, he could fly. He could move silently like a shadow. This provided him with extraordinary powers of stealth which he needed to hunt his prey, young women. He remained eternally young as long as he fed on human blood. Count Dracula did not enjoy feeding on male victims. Like Alexandra's now-dead husband, he saw men mostly as just inept obstacles to be brushed aside as he sought out his real prey.

In addition the Count had the ability to influence people, to force them to submit to his will. All it took was for him to make direct eye contact to confirm his control. Alexandra was under this influence right now.

The Count was not all-powerful. His powers had very real limitations. He was exclusively nocturnal; in fact the sun's rays were absolutely deadly in even small amounts, so much so that he took exceptionally elaborate precautions to avoid them. During the day he was required to sleep deep in the bowels of his own castle in a casket containing Transylvanian earth. His powers were diminished when he was late feeding, and he aged when it had been too long between victims. The current state of the Count's physique attested to the fact that he always fed regularly.

He was unable to enter locked rooms or even homes without an invitation. Although Dracula was not actually harmed by water, he had a strong aversion towards it and went on boats, or crossed rivers only when he had to do so. He was vulnerable to swords and piercing weapons, although he could not be mortally wounded except by beheading. Failing that, a wooden stake through the heart was absolutely fatal.

In short, Count Dracula, in his own element was a force to be reckoned with.

The Count stood up and motioned for Alexandra to come closer. She did. He reached out and gently undid the bride's robe, providing just enough impetus to make it slowly slide off her shoulders. As the sheer soft covering fell silently to the floor, the Count stepped back to admire the stunning sight standing in front of him.

Her hair was flaxen yellow, with curl after huge curl stacked high upon her head, bound by underpinnings and corralled by the tiara. Her complexion was flawless. Everywhere the Count could see her skin was as fair as Egyptian cotton. "On your knees, Alexandra," the Count commanded. As she carefully knelt the Count followed the swelling of her breasts, pale and intricately lined with blood vessels close to the surface, pumping her life to and from each magnificent globe. As she breathed, her breasts rose and fell. It was mesmerizing, even to one who had seen so many like her.

The Count had had many maidens in exactly the same position, playing out this scenario so many times before. He knew that he had hours to go before sunrise. Dracula understood that two dynamic forces were at play. First and foremost was his hunger, a bloodlust like no other. He needed to feed. The Vampire King could hear her heart beat, racing in anticipation. It took all of his self-control to keep from taking her life right then and there.

His own heart, long dead, no longer beat at all. He was undead, fixed between the world of the living and the world of decrepitude. He was no more than a soulless monster who only resembled the living. He was a thief who robbed from the living, taking their most precious possession, their life's blood. The feeding lust was strong within him.

Almost as strong was his male lust. The Count not only coveted his victims' blood, but he also coveted their experience of life itself. Dracula could remember that when he was alive, he experienced life most intensely during sex. He was driven to recapture those feelings with his victims.

As his current victim knelt, staring straight ahead, the Count slowly removed his trousers and took out his member, holding it in one hand. It was long and straight, worthy of a vampire king. With his other hand he lifted the kneeling woman's head until it was inches from the tapered tip. He could feel her heart rate rise as she stared at his penis. She had never been anywhere near this close to a man's sex. Instinctively she reached out to touch it. It was cool to the touch, but that did not matter to her. Slowly her hand moved, her satin glove gliding back and forth along the shaft.