River Princess | By : BloodValkyrie Category: 1 through F > Beetlejuice Views: 4287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Beetlejuice and I don't own Bram Stoker's Dracula. I am making no profit. |
Chapter 23 A Claim “Your ears are bare, Dragă Lydia,” Vlad whispered to against her lips. “I should give you your earrings.” Vlad straightened up and gave her his hand. Reluctantly, Lydia took it. Just a short time ago she thought she might have gotten over Vlad's weirdness, wanted to be closer to him again, and then he pulled that stunt with the video. She wondered if, once this business with the gangsters was over, she could break up with him without any problems. After a few seconds worth of walking with him, she thought maybe she couldn't. Lydia thought it was wise to not give a word to him, not even a questioning look as he led her out of the room and down the hallway. A servant at the end handed Vlad a box that looked too wide and long to contain earrings. He didn't open the box there. He led her back to the party, where people were still buzzing about the incident. Lydia saw her parents talking with someone; her father saw her and gave her an almost pitying look. Vlad nodded at the man, and moved his head down to nuzzle Lydia's cheek. Lydia tried not to make a squeaky noise of protest. “You should smile, Lydia,” Vlad told her as he sat her down in a black and gold loveseat sofa, where a large group of people could observe them. He opened the case and showed her the contents. There was a pair of earrings, shaped out of silver to form little discs with familiar looking dragon symbols. Each little medallion earring was surrounded by little rubies, with a dangling, pearl cut diamond. There was also an envelope. Vlad made quite a show of telling her, loudly, that her ears were very pretty, and it was almost shameful that they had once been impaled in the lobes. Yet, fashion was fashion, and Lydia suffered no true harm. So, as he continued to praise her, making a lot of people take notice and start whispering about them, Vlad personally put the earrings on her ears. Then he handed her the envelope, and didn't tell her what was inside it at first. Lydia suddenly felt like all the stares of the party guests were digging into her, and she pressed herself deeper into the sofa, her dress making typical pressed fabric sounds. Thinking it was best to hurry along, she opened the envelope. Inside was a debit/credit card. She wanted to look at him and ask a question, but she didn't. Vlad told her, “I opened another account for you. This one has enough money for your college education.” That was when Charles and Delia came up to them. “Is everything alright?” Delia asked with an almost sincere smile. Vlad didn't look at Delia; he just stroked Lydia's jaw with his fingers. Lydia didn't know if she should be grateful or frightened. She was too afraid of saying something unintentionally devastating to respond to anyone. “Forgive me, Mrs. Deetz,” said Vlad, “I am distracted. I gave Lydia access to funds for her education, but she seems too shocked to respond.” Charles nodded his head, but there was a twitch in his eyelid. “I'd be shocked too.” Lydia saw Vlad's fingers go to her wrist and squeeze in a playful way. “I will put this card away for now,” he told her. “You should focus on how you glitter and put everyone to shame.” To her quiet disquiet, Vlad put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle but firm hug. Strange as it was, Lydia had the desire to poke his eye with her hand fan. She ignored it, though. Charles and Deetz pulled up some chairs and sat near the couple. They tried to talk of nicer things, things like the lovely food and decorations, and everyone's lovely costumes. Vlad seemed willing to act friendly to them. Lydia just remained quiet, and when she was addressed, she didn't give a verbal reply. Her parents didn't press her much. They seemed to understand that she was a bit distressed. Vlad didn't press her much either. He seemed content to just hold and admire her. Her throat was itchy at one point, and so she got out of Vlad's embrace and stood up, planning on getting a beverage. Vlad rather possessively pulled her by her arm close to him and asked her what she needed. She coughed into her elbow and then said quietly, “I'm thirsty.” Vlad made a gesture to a servant, who came with a tray of drinks. Lydia took some soda and sipped gradually. She paused when a woman dressed as an Italian maiden of the Renaissance approached her and complimented her costume. Lydia nodded, and said thank you, but she couldn't smile. “Recently there have been a number of films and series based on the mid to late 19th century,” Vlad said with a placid face. “I do believe people have become more interested in the elaborate fashions.” “Well,” said the woman, “you look like a doll.” Lydia put her drink down and told Vlad, “I feel kind of sick.” “You are welcome to rest in any room you like,” Vlad told her as he gently rubbed her arm. Lydia took that as her cue to get up and walk off. She walked upstairs and went to a different guest room. Not even removing her jewelry, she purposely fell onto the bed, her feet lightly touching the floor. For a few moments she just laid there, hoping that perhaps she could nap. And then she heard screaming. Lydia moved to get off the bed, but she felt a someone grab her by her hair and push a smelly cloth to her nose, and she even though she tried to fight, the man was stronger than her. It seemed he wanted to make her breathe in the chemical for as long as possible. *** A few minutes after Lydia had left to go to the room, Vlad saw someone walking around, not wearing a costume. It was Brunhilde, and she was talking on a cell phone, ignoring the people around her. When she was done, she put her phone in her jeans pocket and screamed out with her hands to her face, “THERE ARE MANIACS WITH GUNS OUTSIDE!!!! EVERYONE TO THE BASEMENT!!!!” People were screaming, and some panicked. Immediately Mihai started leading groups to the basement, while certain people stayed behind, giving Mihai nods. Charles yelled, “Lydia!” Vlad pushed him and his wife in Mihai's direction, telling them he'd get Lydia. Vlad ran upstairs, and he ran at a supernatural pace. He could smell her sweetness, which stood out upstairs like a trail of rose petals, and he also smelled a man and some chemical. He found Lydia struggling on a bed with a man. His reaction was to grab him by his neck and rip out most of his throat, using only his hands. Some of the blood splattered onto the dazed Lydia. The man fell down, clutching what was left of his throat, gurgling and coughing. Vlad stomped his head in with his foot, making a chilling crunching sound and even more of a bloody mess, and then the man stopped moving. Vlad wiped some of the gore off of his hands with his cloak, removed it from his shoulders, and then he picked Lydia up into his embrace. She was coughing and sneezing, but lucid enough. She clung to his arms, and then looked down at the man, and turned a little green. Vlad bent her over so she could vomit onto the floor, then he wiped her mouth with a clean part of his cloak, and put the cloak over the dead man. There were gunshots, beastly growling, and screaming. “Vino,” he told Lydia, pulling her over to the window. Vino means come. He saw that the window was open, meaning the man had come from there, probably had a ladder. He changed his mind, saying, “Ușă.” That meant door. So he took a very confused but docile Lydia out the room and rushed her down the hallway, but away from the chaos. He decided to take her to a small bathroom that didn't have a window. He placed Lydia on the edge of the bathtub and locked the door. Then he took a rag from a shelf, and some soap, and made a good lather. Vlad went to her and washed her face, then rinsed, and washed her face again. Lydia didn't protest, which was smart of her. This stuff needed to be washed away. “The fuck is going on?” she asked him as he washed the second time. “The Passerini family decided to be idiots,” Vlad explained. Vlad found some lotions in a cabinet and put some on her face. Lydia gave him a mildly puzzled look, but she didn't hinder him. “So,” Lydia said, “are people getting shot?” “Almost everyone is in the basement.” Vlad patted her cheek. “Brunhilde and … our gang is dealing with the Passerini men.” “Then what's with the growling?” Lydia said, mild crinkles forming in her brow. “Are there dogs down there?” Vlad said yes a bit too quickly. Then he said, “We can wait here until the violence dies.” Lydia started rubbing her eyes, and she lowered her head. “Vlad, there aren't dogs down there, are there?” He sensed she was mentally weaving something together, and he tried not to react to it. “Vlad … did you kill that guy? With your hands?” He didn't answer that. Lydia's body shook a little, and she sobbed. “Vlad? Is Brunhilde sometimes called queen?” He sat on the closed lid of the toilet near the bathtub, uncertain if this was the best time to explain. When she looked up at him, though, with a nearly panicked face and tears shining on her face, he thought that he should. So, he reached out his hand. “Vino la mine, și voi explica,” he instructed very gently. Come to me, and I will explain. Lydia was still shaking, and that really made his heart throb like a wound. She took his hand, and Vlad pulled her up to sit in his lap. “Am fost un om,” he whispered into her ear. I was a human. “Ele au fost toate om, cu excepția pentru ei.” They were all human, except for her. The poor dear woman's face shot up to gawk at him. He thought he sensed recognition or realization in her eyes, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. Vlad suddenly found himself desperate to seem less frightening, and so he said, “Do you like teen romance novels with vampires?” Her eyes narrowed. A gunshot that sounded a bit close went off, and she flinched, pressing closer to him and abandoning the irritated expression. Vlad patted her back and then rubbed it lightly. “Dragă, sunt un vampir.” Sweetheart, I am a vampire. “Oh.” She looked down at a ring on her finger. “I … oh … really … that's … oh.” “Lydia?” He touched her hand, but didn't grip it. “Vlad … I … I think I'll just play along. I'll just … take things a little at a time. You know?” She sighed. “But, when this is over … we need to talk about it.” “You're very accepting of this. Are vampires not fiction in your mind?” A horrible slam of a sound accompanied by a man's pain dipped scream was heard. Lydia jumped a bit. Vlad held her tighter. “Vlad … I don't want to hear much about it, ok?” “I understand.” *** A simple black car drove up to the mansion. A man in a long coat exited the car and let himself inside. Costumed people were having a sort of violence orgy with darkly dressed men. It was loud. There was so much blood, so much screaming and crying. They were biting and sucking on the men's throats, wrists, and various wounds. Some of the men weren't alive anymore. Some of the men were missing limbs. Some were just torsos. Some costumed people were sucking on bloody limbs and digits. He tried to ignore them. Luckily, they mostly ignored him. Some looked at him, but they seemed to know why he was there, and so they left him alone. She found him first, the woman who called, the woman with the long blood colored curly hair. She approached him, winked, and led him upstairs, where it wasn't quite so loud. They went into a large bathroom with a large window. She leaned against the closed door and grinned at him. There was a bound and gagged man in the bathtub, struggling, chained to the faucet, unable to free himself. “Brunhilde,” the man said in a monotone voice. “Hi,” said Brunhilde. “Good to see you, Agent Stillwell. I need you to flash your pretty badge at the people in the basement, okay? Tell them everything's fine.” “Is everything fine?” the man asked. “Give me some time, and this gang will be destroyed.” She flipped her hair. She almost looked cute, almost. “I wish more gangs would harass you. Then we wouldn't have to investigate so many.” Brunhilde pointed at the man in the bathtub. “I'm going to keep him for a bit, get some information, and then send him home, possibly disfigured.” “Sounds like you,” the man said. “Help yourself to any food you want. I'll call you when we've put the bodies out of the building.” Brunhilde grinned and shooed him out of the bathroom. “Relax! Relax!” How he was going to relax, he wasn't sure. *** Sometime later, all the confused and buzzing guests and servants were in the large basement, which was really a home theater/game room. Mihai and another man were guarding the door to the stairs when the man in the long coat knocked on the door and said he was from the F.B.I. Mihai let him in, and shook his hand. Then he yelled at everyone to shut the hell up, because an F.B.I. agent was here. Mostly they complied, although some still spoke in low voices. The man held out his badge and waved it about, high above his head. “My name is Gregory Stillwell! I'm an agent from F.B.I.! The police had dealt with the shooters, and I have launched an investigation!” Mihai rolled his eyes, knowing what was going on. “I'll ask some of you a few questions, but I think I have all the information I need! Some men have already been arrested, and most of them were shot dead! I'm going to ask you all to remain calm when you leave this basement! Please remain calm! Understand! There is a lot of blood in the house. It's not pretty.” As the group left the basement, gasping at the blood stains all over the home, Charles said quietly to his wife, so nobody else could hear him, “I'm not an expert, but this looks like too much blood.” *** They spent the remaining time without speaking. Lydia didn't look at Vlad, and Vlad kept his chin on Lydia's head. Mihai knocked on the door and called out to them. Lydia got up to let Vlad open the door. “Everyone is leaving,” Mihai told Vlad. “The situation was handled.” “Lydia knows about what we are,” Vlad told Mihai. The younger man put his hand to his mouth, and he peered over at Lydia, who looked strangely defeated. “Ce altceva mai știe ea?” What else does she know? Vlad shook his head. “Nu te optimist despre asta.” Don't get hopeful about that. Lydia knew there was more going on, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. ***
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