The Evolution of Count von Krolock

The Transformation of Count von Krolock

Chapter 3: Purely For Pleasure

The village was still. At this hour, his tenants were fast asleep. There was not even one candle to be glimpsed flickering from any window. Even the tavern was dark.

Von Krolock dismounted and left his horse beside the church. He regarded its facade in the moonlight. It seemed a lifetime ago when he had last entered, not to attend Mass as his private chapel served that purpose, but to hear and oversee disputes between his tenants. There was no other suitable building, although there had been plans to construct a sort of hall for such occasions. They had come to nothing, as von Krolock’s transformation had robbed him of any ambition of that sort. 

His tenants knew, by now, of course. Servants talked. Word spread. And besides, he no longer showed himself to them, certainly not during the day, and at night he was mostly invisible, or feeding on victims outside his domain. 

Von Krolock felt, despite no confirmation, that his tenants still respected his authority even as they abhorred what he was. A short time ago they had looked to him for wisdom and guidance. He smiled sadly up at the night sky. He was no longer capable of such things, as by necessity a monster such as he must keep himself hidden. Still…they deserved better. At present, he didn’t know what the solution was, but he would reflect on it and possibly broach the subject with Bernd, the man he had hired to collect all the rent from the village. It would give him something else to ponder over, and make him feel as if he were still part of the living world, instead of what he truly was, an undead being who thought of little else than blood and women. 

He must rouse himself to something like he was, and show the villagers he had not abandoned them totally, that despite his vampirism, he could perform his duty towards them. It would quell any possible rebellion or a stake in his heart. Despite the hopelessness that he constantly struggled to repress, the instinct to survive remained strong in von Krolock.

He moved among the cottages silently, like a ghost. Already, he knew it was too late to hope for any amorous encounter tonight, it was too near to dawn. If he hoped for anything of that sort, he would need to render himself invisible and observe the villagers as soon as darkness fell. It would probably mean forgoing a feed, or settling for animal blood later on but that was a small sacrifice to obtain what he longed for. 

He trudged back to his horse and rode back to Castle von Krolock. The first weak rays of the sun were appearing on the horizon as the drawbridge was raised. He took his time in bathing as a part of him was dreading the reality of his empty bed. He envisioned Johanna in her flame-haired glory and felt a pang of guilt for what she had become. As he sank into bed, he knew he only missed her body and what pleasure it afforded him. They had nothing further to say to one another, and they were both by now fully accustomed to their altered states. She had no need of his protection any longer. He would visit her every so often to see that she was well, but beyond that…he was free. Free to pursue any adventure he wished. He smiled in the darkness of his windowless bedchamber.

The following evening, von Krolock mounted his horse as soon as it was fully dark. He had made up his mind not to feed, it was too time-consuming and there was no time to waste if he wished to obtain his goal this night. 

He concealed his horse in a grove of trees outside the village before rendering himself invisible. Almost all of the cottages were lit up cheerfully from within. The sight filled von Krolock with a sense of bitter nostalgia. To witness mortals, gathered together around their fireplaces to warm themselves against a cold he no longer felt, or dining en famille amongst steaming bowls of food that he could no longer eat filled him with a familiar despair.

 He briefly considered merely satisfying his need for blood before heading home to an empty bed and the remainder of a lonely night. He could hardly bear this idea and it strengthened his resolve to follow through with his original plan. 

The views through the windows proved uninspiring at first. Grubby, cranky children in need of a bath, weary old men bent over the fire, some younger women were to be seen but they appeared as worn down as their fathers. None of them appealed to von Krolock in the slightest.

It had been more than a week since Johanna had shared his bed. This forced abstinence was affecting him badly, as he had no outlet for pleasure, apart from what the feedings gave him. He had lost all interest in everything else: his books in his library gathered dust, his future plans for his estate put aside. 

More than ever he needed a distraction, he needed a mortal woman with her beating heart, her flush of blood coloring her flesh, her face untarnished by the perpetual scowl that was the destiny of all vampires. Von Krolock needed to feel mortal again for just one night.

If he rode home tonight in defeat, he didn’t think he could bear it. He would succumb to despair. This thought gave him renewed vigor, even as he passed the last row of cottages and continued on the road to the outlying farms. A faint light appeared in the distance and von Krolock felt drawn to it. As he grew closer, he saw that the light emanated from a cottage, a structure much humbler than any of those in the village. He realized that this was the home of László, a Hungarian who had left his native land years ago, under mysterious circumstances. The villagers whispered that he was wanted for murder and had escaped the gallows in the Hungarian countryside. Somehow he had ended up in the Count’s domains and one of von Krolock’s farmers had asked that László be given refuge and his own living quarters. He was diligent and extremely hard-working. 

Von Krolock permitted László to take up residence in this somewhat dilapidated house that had once belonged to a family who perished in the last plague and had stood empty ever since.

László wasted no time in taking a wife, a homely woman that had been in danger of becoming an old maid, and raising a family. Beyond these facts, von Krolock had never given him further thought. 

But now, here he stood a small distance from László’s house, still invisible and focusing on the window that was still lit from within.  The candles revealed a mortal female in a modest room, seated on her bed as she plaited her long blonde hair. Her nightdress left nothing to the imagination, as it revealed a womanly figure, although von Krolock guessed her to be around eighteen, perhaps younger. 

His breathing grew faster as he focused on her throat. He was already imagining the taste of her blood, before he stopped himself. This was not the reason he wanted her. He could suck any old fool dry. Her purpose was purely for pleasure, and he would do everything in his power to control his monstrous desires and eventually return her to László, no longer a virgin, but alive.

In sudden haste and with vampiric speed he retraced his steps back to his horse, mounting him and trotting back the distance to the farmhouse. He dismounted and returned to his physical form. 

By now the light was extinguished and the shutters drawn but that did not deter von Krolock. He could wrench them open and climb through the window. He leaned against the wall and stared at the shutters sideways to ascertain the location of the latch when a light, floating sensation suddenly overcame his arm, and to his disbelief, he witnessed half of his body dissolving into the wall, no, through the wall, and in the next instant he was in her bedroom, an action that proved effortless and painless.

He was so astonished at the discovery of this new-found power that he forgot to quiet his steps and the girl sat up in bed with a gasp. With demonic speed, he was at her side and covering her mouth. There was no time for introductions or further speech as he captured her, lifting her from her bed as she screamed for her father and mother. Let her scream, he thought. László would never get out of bed quickly enough to match von Krolock’s powers.

He instinctively knew not to attempt moving through the wall with her in his arms, it wouldn’t work for a mortal. However, his vampiric strength would serve as he held her with only one arm and unlatched the confounded shutters, throwing them open with his other arm and swinging both legs over the window ledge. It was awkward but not difficult, continuing to lift her with one arm as he freed them from the window. Doubtless with time, he would learn these maneuvers with more grace. 

Once on the ground, he lifted her with both arms, as she continued screaming. He cursed inwardly. If there was more light he would reveal his fangs to her, threaten to bite to get her to stop but that might make her fight him more. 

Out of necessity, he released her briefly to mount his horse and she turned to run. He smiled, letting her gain some distance between them. Von Krolock was an excellent horseman and this was not the first time he had captured a woman in this manner. He spurred his horse on until he was at her side, then swooped down to seize her, lifting her and forcing her to sit astride. He would have a better hold on her, and what did he care for the conventions of mortals now? 

He galloped at a steady pace until they were beyond the village and at the foot of the road to Castle von Krolock. He pulled hard on the reins and his horse came to a stop. The darkness was almost absolute but not for von Krolock. He gazed down at her. He could hear her weeping but it caused him no guilt. He needed her too much. He would ensure he gave her pleasure, he was not capable of impregnating her. He would release her when he was sufficiently satisfied. No harm would come to her. 

“Do you know where I am taking you?” 

“No…please don’t hurt me…” She was sobbing again.

“Stop crying. Look ahead and you can just see the road lit by the moon.”

She paused. “Are you taking me to the castle?”

“Would you like to see it?”

She gasped, suddenly realizing who was addressing her. “Your…Your Excellency!”

He laughed softly and twisted her body so that she was side saddle. His hands caressed the front of her nightdress, feeling her nipples stiffening in the cold. Wrapping her more securely within his cape, he kissed her. Although he was gentle at first, she was rigid in his arms. He deepened the kiss, forcing her mouth open, but she remained unresponsive. She didn’t struggle, now that she knew the identity of her captor. No one would dare to come to her rescue.

He released her abruptly, in sudden haste to get her inside and undressed. He could awaken her to pleasure much more easily in his warm bed and not out in the chilly night air.

His servants had all retired for the night. Von Krolock had briefly considered employing vampires after his servants had fled, but it was a thought quickly discarded. For whether in mortal life a nobleman or farmer, once a vampire you were considered equal in another vampire’s eyes. A vampire bowed to no one. It had taken some time, but he had convinced some of his former servants to return, once the villagers saw that he had no intention of attacking them. 

So it was up to von Krolock to light the fire and candles in his chamber once he had set her down on the bed. She sat obediently still while he worked. Once all was ablaze, he turned to face her. Her braids were coming undone and he crossed to the bed, seating himself beside her. She flinched at his nearness and he pretended not to notice as he took hold of her plaits, completing their undoing so that her blonde hair fell becomingly over her shoulders. He felt his breathing growing faster once more as he focused on her throat. He had not fed and he could not be sure if he could control himself. 

Don’t waste it. Don’t waste her purity on your hunger. 

He closed his eyes and swallowed.

“What is your name, my sweet?”

Her eyes met his, still red from weeping. “Gerte, Your Excellency.”

“And what have you heard about me, Gerte?” He rose and opened the cabinet to fetch her some wine. 

“I…You are our lord and master. You own the land my father tends.”

“What else?” von Krolock insisted as he poured red wine into a goblet and gave it to her. 

Surprisingly, she gulped it down before replying. “Your Excellency…no one tells me much. I am home most of the time helping my mother and caring for my brothers and sisters.” She seemed at a loss to say anything more. 

This was enough for von Krolock. Evidently, she had no idea what he had become. Perhaps this knowledge was not shared with the more delicate female inhabitants of the village. He was glad of it, for his seduction of her would be infinitely easier if she remained ignorant.

Von Krolock took the now empty goblet from Gerte and set it aside. He heard her breath catch in her throat and the sound excited him. Her cheeks were flushed from the wine and he kissed them. He could smell her blood within her. It was an inward battle, this need to bite. But if he gave in to his instincts the night would end in death for her. No…He had to rein in the beast in him. He wanted to forget his reality and feel mortal again.

This desire proved more powerful than his hunger and he kissed her mouth this time. She tasted of sweetness and inexperience and he was captivated. Gerte started to melt ever so imperceptibly in his arms as he kissed her harder, and bent her backward on the pillows. 

It did not take long to arouse her to passion as he wrenched off her nightdress and witnessed her nakedness. Von Krolock possessed vast experience as a lover and he used it as he caused Gerte to feel sensations she never thought possible. 

Von Krolock remained clothed, his cape covering her as he ground against her. 

“Your Excellency…!” Gerte gasped as he thrust his erection viciously against her through his hose. He touched her boldly, plunging his fingers between her legs with no pretense of gentleness. Her desire was already apparent and he spread her wetness all over her folds and nub. When he pressed there, she gasped again and he smiled with his mouth closed, as his desire was making his fangs appear. 

Von Krolock rose abruptly to tear off his clothes. His excitement was almost unbearable, his need to be inside her was torture. To make love to a mortal woman once more…Nothing could be sweeter. 

She sat up and stared at him as he disrobed, her mouth open with curiosity. He had been with only Johanna for so long, that the innocence Gerte displayed utterly disarmed him. With sudden clarity, he knew he had found his reason to go on, his purpose, he thought, as he stretched out on top of her, even if his motives were entirely selfish. With virgins such as Gerte, he could almost forget that he was no longer mortal. He could forget what he truly was, he could suppress the self-hatred that at times threatened to engulf him. 

“Please…Your Excellency…” Gerte sucked in her breath as he roughly handled her breasts. They were large and round, as von Krolock preferred. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, his fangs immediately ached at the close contact. He forced them to retract. It was tedious, the constant need to repress his vampiric impulses. 

He placed his knee between her legs and pushed it against her nub. She emitted a sound between surprise and fear. He growled at her reaction and guided himself inside her. The first thrust brought Gerte pain as he knew it would. He was excited by this aspect more than he cared to admit. It was similar to the pain brought on by his bite and it thrilled him. 

He thrust again, groaning as he felt her tighten around him. He ensured that he slackened his pace until she was ready for his full onslaught. It was glorious, miraculous. So much so, that his mouth fell open, and in his lust, his fangs bared themselves.

She stiffened beneath him. The fear in her eyes aroused him further as he rode her, harder and faster. The sensation of von Krolock inside her distracted Gerte from the horror of his fangs and her climax came upon her in a rush. 

Von Krolock was not far behind. It was almost too much for him as he shouted his release, then shuddered within her, gripping her shoulders with the intensity of it. 

When he had completely spent himself, he kissed her gently and slid to her side. Gerte was making little sounds of pleasure or distress, he couldn’t be sure which, and he almost didn’t care, he was so overwhelmed with what she had given him. The physical satisfaction was extraordinary, even now the after-effects pulsed throughout his body. He felt cleansed, as if bedding a mortal, and virgin at that, had eliminated his vampiric essence, at least temporarily. 

He had shown remarkable fortitude in restraining himself from his instincts, to bite and bite hard. It was so automatic by now, and a necessary component of his lovemaking technique with Johanna. But, no matter. He would gladly give up such pleasures in exchange for what mortal women could give him.

This then, was the solution, his salvation. This was the way to make his eternal existence bearable. Mortal women, or even better, mortal virgins would now become essential to his afterlife. Female vampires would never tempt him, with the possible exception of Johanna. He would welcome her back into his bed if she wanted it in future, but not at the expense of his other lovers. He would make this clear to Johanna if she ever returned. When she ever returned. Eternity was a long time, after all.

That von Krolock was on his way to seducing every beautiful virgin in the village and surrounding farms was nothing new, now that he was a vampire. The villagers knew his lecherous ways from when he was still mortal. What was new, and regrettably more difficult, was the method of seeking them out. While mortal, and in the light of day, von Krolock was regularly exposed to temptation as he traversed the village. It was easy for arrangements to be made for any girl who interested him. Why should his habits have changed in their eyes? He was still lord and master, and could do as he pleased. 

After the experience of Gerte, von Krolock utilized his power of moving through walls to his great benefit. So many risks were eliminated this way, and the element of surprise when he burst into a woman’s room was something he was learning to enjoy. 

The lure of their beautiful necks, however, was ever-present and something he had to fight with each and every encounter. But as the number of his conquests increased, he found he was better able to master his vampiric side. 

Time passed. Weeks turned into months. Von Krolock’s mood lifted. He had fallen into a pattern. He would hunt one night and seduce the next, forgoing a feed. At first, his mistresses would remain only one night at Castle von Krolock but depending on their allure, sometimes one night was not enough. They would luxuriate in his sumptuous chambers while he slept during the day. 

The Transformation of Count von Krolock

Chapter 2: A Lone Hunter

Their first night of hunting humans proved to be an awkward undertaking, but in the end, their instincts dominated and they fed well. For von Krolock it was as if he were two separate beings: the former abhorred his actions even as he killed; the latter moved with vampiric speed and thrilled at the supernatural energy that overwhelmed him after consuming blood.

It had another effect as well. His desire to possess Johanna in his bed was growing to a fever pitch. Upon their return to Castle von Krolock, despite the blood that covered their mouths and hair, they kissed hungrily as they undressed each other. Von Krolock fell on top of her with a loud groan, frantic to be inside her. His fangs latched onto her neck, her previous wound already having magically closed up. His had vanished as well. Post-transformation, neither would suffer from injury ever again. As he thrust rhythmically within her, as hard as he could, the bed creaked from his movements and Johanna returned his bite as her pleasure overcame her. The sensation of her fangs in his neck made him shout and his climax was long and intense. Was it better now that he was no longer mortal? Perhaps not, but it was every bit as satisfying which gave a him some measure of consolation.

He chided himself for even entertaining such thoughts at such a time, when his very soul was lost forever. But in life he had been a man of immense sensual appetites and it pleased him to know that his new existence would not hinder him in this regard.

So, he would not die. A strange sort of contentment seemed to envelop him. He would not die, he would live forever. He had forever to come to terms with his vampirism. Would that not be enough time to find peace? And besides, to die and leave Johanna behind, when he had been the one to seal her to his fate…It would be cruel to abandon her. They would wade through the darkness together, they would accustom themselves to this infernal desire for blood. He would bury his anguish deep within himself and would not allow himself to feel, to remember life as a mortal. For now, he could not think of it. Perhaps eternity would eventually teach him otherwise, but he knew that if he and Johanna were to survive, they must view their past as dead, and their future as an adventure.

He turned to face a now drowsy Johanna. Their first joint feeding had taken them nearly all night, after several false starts. As dawn approached, he gathered her in his arms. Did he desire eternity with Johanna? He couldn’t say. Love for one woman was not something that von Krolock had ever experienced, not with his wife or any mistress. He lusted after Johanna, he ensured her material needs were met. But he wondered if outside of bed and feedings they would have much to say to each other. No matter. Time would solve everything. He would remain with her as long as she had need of him.

Since that night two years ago, he had learned much. They had made contact with the vampires who lived in the forest beyond the village. They learned that their kind were sterile, which von Krolock had suspected but the confirmation of this filled him with relief. They learned that the supernatural powers they all possessed varied from vampire to vampire. Some were acquired immediately upon transformation, others came to them years, even centuries later. Still others were shared almost universally, such as the power of invisibility, and the ability to cover large distances rapidly on foot.

Von Krolock would study the faces of his fellow vampires. Grey of complexion, their faces wearing a perpetual scowl, features that were shared by Johanna…and himself. There was no sense in denying that his face had changed, he needed no proof. He was one of them and always would be.

Why then, as he watched Johanna flirt with Albert, the only other vampire present that could compete with von Krolock’s great height, did he feel a revulsion as they laughed together? It wasn’t jealousy, for Johanna increasingly passed her nights away from Castle von Krolock in the company of the vampires and even hunted with them, or alone. This suited von Krolock more than he cared to admit. Being a lone hunter was in some ways preferable; there was no need to share any blood with Johanna, so the feed was more satisfying. It also allowed him to hunt beyond the village, beyond the tenants and families he knew. Johanna, naturally more indolent, preferred territory closer to home.

He knew that the revulsion stemmed from her loss of humanity. Johanna, who had always loved children in her mortal life, who had only shown him tenderness, her manners entirely feminine, her voice ever soft…

Her transformation had taken all of that away. Her nature had turned, she could be bitingly cynical at times, there was a coarseness to her now that he sadly recognized in himself. The idea of eternity had made them careless, sarcastic, little caring beyond their essential feedings what befell them. It was depressing, to think that in just a few short years into immortality they had allowed themselves to become so altered.

There was no point to fidelity on either side, and indeed von Krolock had never been faithful to Johanna in life. She may have been his chief mistress but he had always sought other diversions, although he demanded absolute fidelity from her in return. But now…He would deny her nothing. She had become what she was due to his brutal actions. He did not own her, he had gifted her eternity and it was ultimately up to her how she chose to endure it.

As for him…he could not blame himself for growing restless after two years. His eyes scanned the vampires gathered around the fire. Thus far, none of the females had tempted him. In vain, he sought the one who cursed him, but she never appeared. Most likely she had been passing through and he would never encounter her again, to her benefit, for otherwise von Krolock felt sure he would have been fully capable of killing her.

No, the other female vampires held no attraction. It was mortal women he desired, and fiercely. The sweetness of a virgin…the roses in her cheeks…The mere thought of it made him breathe faster. How he would cherish such purity even more so in this, his new existence, which by now consisted of little more than hunger, death and bedding Johanna.

As he increasingly hunted alone, he sought such an opportunity. The necessity of night yielded mostly men, regrettably, but at least they served the purpose of satisfying his hunger for blood.

He would have to hunt harder for young mortal women, closed up in their bedrooms and fast asleep. It would be no easy task. The powers of invisibility would assist in his endeavor. Still, he would need to exercise extreme caution.

But would he take their souls? Would he transform them for all time…or would he let them go?

Von Krolock watched idly as Albert whispered in Johanna’s ear and she threw her head back, laughing. He turned away from them all and receded into the shadows, deep in thought, as he mounted his waiting horse. She would not return to Castle von Krolock tonight, or the next night, he felt certain. In fact, he realized with sudden clarity that Johanna might never return at all.

As he rode out of the forest and towards the village, his enhanced vision guiding his way, he felt a sort of liberation wash over him. It was clear now that his vampiric existence, while still new, had fallen into a rut and he was longing for a break to the monotony.

“What is it like…to live forever?”

“Do you really wish to know?” Von Krolock was surprised. No other woman had ever asked him.

She nodded, her eyes bright and inquisitive in the candlelight.

“Very well. It is a voyage with no destination. An existence with no purpose. An endless torment with no hope of Heaven.”

She was silent, staring at him in dismay.

“Not the answer you were expecting, I gather.”

This is a prequel to The Redemption of Count Von Krolock.

The origin story of Count von Krolock, mostly a recounting of his adjustment to vampirism and how he deals with the reality of eternity. There will be lots of elegant erotica thrown in--the Count cannot resist a beautiful mortal female.

AUSTRIA 1462

Pure darkness enveloped them as they slept, tangled up in each other. The sun had set an hour ago and it would not be long before all signs of daylight had vanished. 

The female awakened slowly, stretching and sliding out from under the strong arm that held her. She sat up and lit a candle, then took a comb from next to the bed and started to work through her long, flaming red hair. 

She heard him stir and turned to face him, her smile wide, revealing her fangs. 

“Stefan…Night has fallen.”

Count von Krolock sighed contentedly. He had always loved the way she pronounced his name, with a touch of the Hungarian accent she still retained. He grabbed her and she fell on top of him. 

“Johanna…” he murmured. “You think I don’t know when night falls by now?” He bared his fangs and rolled her onto her back, before sinking them into her neck. She moaned and writhed with pleasure against him. 

He laughed softly. “I sense the arrival of night just as you do…” 

Her mouth sought his neck, to return the favor. But von Krolock turned away and rose from the bed, pulling on his hose. “Later. We both need a decent feed and you know it.”

They stumbled up to von Krolock’s bedchamber just before dawn, laughing at the night’s adventures. They had fed exceptionally well and were covered in their victims’ blood. Johanna loved to lick the remnants off of von Krolock’s mouth and face, and he had indulged her in this during the early days after transforming her, but he had tired of it of late and would no longer allow it. It seemed callous, barbaric, even to him. A mere two years into his afterlife, von Krolock was discovering that nonetheless, even he had limits. 

After a shared bath, which only increased their desire, they fell into bed, reaching for each other with all the familiarity of long-acquainted lovers. Thus far in his new existence, von Krolock had not strayed. Despite the numerous mistresses he had enjoyed in his mortal life…he recoiled at the thought of transforming any other woman. Johanna had been the exception, and had she not flailed frantically in his arms, in a desperate attempt to stop him, he knew he would have drained her to death, for he had not yet mastered the art of ceasing in time. 

Did he regret transforming her? He groaned as her fangs pierced his neck and he thrust inside her. Decidedly not. She was the antidote to his loneliness, someone with whom he could share this bewildering new existence.

Two years before, the morning after his transformation, von Krolock had wandered around the castle grounds as if in a trance, his new fangs seeming to constantly get in the way of the normal workings of his mouth. As if that already wasn’t traumatic enough, eventually the sun rose, its first rays falling onto von Krolock’s arm and back as he ran across the drawbridge. The scorching pain was beyond endurance. Once in his bedchamber he surveyed the damage, ripping off his doublet. 

Even through his clothes, the sun had done its work. His arm was pink and to touch it was unbearable. He crossed to the mirror and twisted his head to view his back. 

There was nothing to see.

No figure stared back at him from the mirror. Von Krolock was standing in front of his bed and should have blocked the view of it but there it was, reflected in the mirror. Only the bed. Not him.

He was under no illusions and knew the moment his attacker released him that he was changed, immortal, and with all the characteristics that implied. He had grown up hearing the stories. He knew that he could expect still more changes. 

But the cold reality of the mirror, the knowledge that he would never again view his own face…it was the worst punishment of all.

He collapsed onto the floor and wept from the anguish of his new existence and the pain from his burns. 

The servants…his personal manservant in particular…they must not know. All the same, his wounds needed tending to and he called for cold water which was brought to his door. Von Krolock muttered his thanks, taking special care to not open his mouth too wide before shutting the door. He wet some cloths and applied them to his arm and back. They would heal, the burns were not overly deep. 

He lay on his bed, miserable, having no idea what course of action to take next. It was then that he noticed the sunlight streaming through his windows. He shrank back in terror, drawing the bed curtains all around him and covering his head with the bedclothes. 

Before long, his manservant Otto entered. It was long past von Krolock’s customary waking hour, and his master had not summoned him as usual. 

“Otto!” Von Krolock cried from behind the bed curtains. “I am ill. Please don’t come any nearer.”

Otto crossed himself fearing the plague. “What can I do for you, Your Excellency?”

Von Krolock’s voice was small. ”The morning light hurts my eyes terribly. Order the men to gather the tapestries from the great hall and transport them to my bedchamber so they may cover all the windows.” It would serve as a temporary solution until a more permanent one could be found.

His bidding was obeyed. Von Krolock remained concealed in bed, while the men worked to secure the tapestries. Otto spoke through the curtains and assured his master that at his summons, he would assist him with whatever was needed before quitting the bedchamber. 

Alone again, Von Krolock re-wetted the cloths, applied them to the burns and sank back, exhausted. Despite his great distress, a strange weariness was overtaking his body. He was overwhelmed with the need to sleep, deep and long. Perhaps when he awoke, he would discover that this had all been a hellish nightmare.

The daylight hours passed and von Krolock’s sleep was profound. When darkness fell, he sat up suddenly with a gasp. He ran his tongue over his teeth and nearly punctured it on his new fangs. He touched his chest. No heartbeat. 

His nightmare had become eternity. 

And that wasn’t all. A hunger was brewing within him, the likes of which he had never experienced. He thought of food, of bread and cheese and meat. The very idea almost made him nauseous. He already knew what he craved instead and he was filled with horror. 

It felt almost like a physical pain, the intense need for blood. It wasn’t true pain, he knew. It was the sick, depraved lust of a monster. His breath was coming out in gasps, his fangs seemed to possess a life of their own, as he felt for the first time their persistent, throbbing ache. He shoved the curtains aside and staggered out of bed, lighting the candles with trembling fingers. Despite the covered windows, he knew, knew, that darkness had fallen. He couldn’t say why, only that it seemed he could almost smell the night. This realization filled him with an excitement he had never known.

Footsteps were approaching his chamber. His breathing grew more ragged. He could smell blood…Otto’s blood, he knew.

His manservant entered to encounter his master on his feet; tall, imposing and brimming with strength. Whatever words Otto was about to utter would remain unspoken for all time. His voice caught in his throat as he took in von Krolock’s fierce expression, the blue eyes now unnaturally black, his fangs protruding from his mouth. 

The look on Otto’s face caused von Krolock to immediately turn to the mirror, so he could see what he had become, until he remembered there was nothing to see. 

Otto stared into the mirror and let out a shriek of horror. His heart beat faster and his blood pumped within his body. Von Krolock could smell his fear, his blood. Panting like a wild animal, he seized Otto’s shoulders, forcing him to stagger backward against the wall. 

With no hesitation, as if he had been hunting like this for centuries, he opened his mouth wide and plunged his fangs deep into Otto’s neck. He drank and drank. It was like the finest wine, the most intoxicating substance he had ever ingested and with every vicious swallow, he felt himself growing stronger, almost drunk with the thrill of it. 

This struggling form was no longer Otto, it was merely a much-needed means of sustenance. Von Krolock was no longer thinking of him. He was thinking of nothing but blood, and the relief it afforded him.

He sucked and sucked until there was no more. Von Krolock released his mouth from Otto’s neck and he fell sideways, his head hitting the mirror on the way down, the glass shattering.

Von Krolock knelt, ignoring the blood he could feel seeping from his mouth. He cradled Otto in his arms and wailed. Otto, who had served him well since the day of his marriage. And this was how he been repaid. 

The cries of their master summoned two other manservants, who rushed to his bedchamber. The door burst open to reveal von Krolock, covered with blood, hovering over the body of Otto. 

Von Krolock met their eyes, fangs prominent. The men screamed and ran.  Soon after there was a commotion to be heard all over the castle and he knew his servants were panicking, certain that they would also meet Otto’s fate, as they scrambled to gather essentials and abandon their posts. He heard the faint rumble of the drawbridge. The tumult eventually died down and he knew then that he was alone. 

The silence was deafening. Von Krolock glanced down sadly at Otto. The guilt overwhelmed him. He had not been able to stop himself, the hunger had been all-encompassing. Was this what he could expect from now on, that he would attack whatever poor soul he happened to encounter? He thought of his recently dead wife. Had she lived, would he have been tempted to consume her blood and drain her to death? 

“Anna…Help me…God help me…”

He resolved in that moment to kill himself. He would not submit to this dark fate, living off the blood of innocent humans, murdering them night after night to survive. He rose unsteadily to his feet and approached the window. Not even a vampire could survive a fall from those heights. 

He grabbed the tapestry but then let it go, and turned to confront Otto’s body. The least he could do before ending himself was give his manservant a Christian burial. He knew where the earth was soft, behind the stables.

Otto was a large man, but with von Krolock’s vampiric strength he was able to easily lift him and carry him out into the night. In the stables he found the tools necessary for this grim task. He dug fast, faster than he ever thought possible, and even after covering the grave with dirt, he was barely out of breath. The night air called to him, gave him a sort of energy that made him feel all-powerful. Despite the chill in the air, he did not suffer from the cold. He felt nothing at all. 

The horses snorted from within and von Krolock wondered if they had been fed or given fresh water this evening. He reentered the stables and approached his preferred steed, caressing its nose before finding the essentials. He fed every horse, donkey and mule. This done, he trudged back to the drawbridge and into the castle. He didn’t see how he could do away with himself and leave the animals to starve. But how to make arrangements to sell them? He realized with a pang of regret that he could never enjoy normal relations with humans again. He was separated from them all.

Death would end this agony, though. Once he had sold the animals he could die, with nothing further on his conscience. True, he could simply slaughter them all, but he had already killed tonight. One innocent victim was enough. He would find some sort of solution for them, although at present he had no idea what that might be. 

He found himself drawn to the chapel within the castle. It was a place he normally avoided, the site of all his children’s funerals… and most recently Anna’s. But his great distress compelled him there. It was only once he had knelt and regarded the great cross at the altar that he remembered the tales he had grown up hearing. Chapels and churches were no place for his kind. All the same, he entered and lit some candles.

He lowered his head but he could still feel it, a pressure that he fought against as he lifted his head defiantly to face the cross. The pressure grew to a fever pitch and he felt as if a metal band was tightening around his temples but still he did not avert his gaze. He prayed a sort of prayer, if one could call it that, as he fought through the pain. His thoughts were scattered, incoherent. He prayed for forgiveness, not only for Otto, but for any future victims he would undoubtedly kill, if he could not find the courage to die first. He cried out to the souls of his wife, his children, his dead parents. He didn’t dare speak straight to God. So he directed his questions to whoever would listen.

Had his soul truly departed his body the moment his transformation was complete? Would he be forever separated from those he had loved, and instead exist in this hellish void? Was suicide the only escape?

The pain increased and von Krolock had no choice but to lower his head once more. He buried his face in his arms and wept. Long moments passed as his sobs echoed throughout the stony chapel. He wasn’t praying anymore. Words and thoughts failed him. He simply suffered and he even welcomed the pain the cross caused him. 

“Stefan…” A familiar, feminine voice intoned and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whirled to face Johanna, his favorite mistress of several years. He was ashamed to admit that she had entirely slipped his mind during the last twenty-four hours. 

“Johanna—“ his voice broke and he reached for her. She fell into his arms as his tears flowed anew. 

“Everyone—everyone is gone—save you.”

“Why, Stefan? What has happened? Is there plague once more?”

Von Krolock didn’t answer. What could he say? How could he tell her?

At length, he spoke. “No. There is no plague. But I am infected, Johanna.” His voice rang with a new bitterness that she had never heard before. 

She backed away from him. “Infected, Stefan! What ails you?”

Von Krolock stared at her, saying nothing. Tense moments passed until finally he opened his mouth, revealing his fangs.

Johanna gasped and backed further away. “Stefan…How…” She stared, horrified, but remarkably retained her composure. 

Von Krolock’s breath started to emerge in gasps and with a growing horror, he realized that her proximity was bringing out the intense hunger within him once more. The light from the flickering candles revealed his eyes, turned a demonic black. 

“Stefan!” Johanna shrieked and turned to run but she proved no match for von Krolock’s speed and strength. He seized her from behind, as his attacker had seized him, and drove his fangs deep into her neck. 

Johanna struggled as he sucked greedily. “Stefan…” Her voice was weak and resigned, seeming to reach him from a great distance, but reach him it did, and he forced himself to release her. 

Her head slumped suddenly against his shoulder. “No!” Von Krolock shouted, the enormity of what he had done gripping him, making it hard to draw breath. He had killed her. Two humans in one night. The first of hundreds. Thousands. 

Von Krolock picked her up and bore her to his quarters. With a tenderness that belied a growing panic, he laid her down on the bed. She was pale and deathly still. Oh, God. He had killed again. He had not stopped in time, he had drained too much of her blood…

He lay beside her and smoothed her hair away from her face. The movement suddenly revived Johanna and she regained consciousness with a sharp gasp, revealing her new fangs. Her eyes opened wide and stared up at the canopy.  She opened her mouth, her tongue exploring her fangs, and screamed.

Her hands flew to her mouth and then she was sitting up, shifting this way and that, as if she could escape her new reality. 

“Johanna!” Von Krolock attempted to hold her, to offer her some comfort, but she threw him off.

“Stefan…” she whispered. “What have you done to me? Why…why did you not kill me instead?” Even as she uttered these words, her eyes were blackening, just as his had changed, and her panting breaths were growing more agitated.

“What…What is happening to me?!”            

 Von Krolock observed her with an almost dispassionate air before responding. “You need to feed, Johanna. You hunger for blood. As do I.”

I LIVE for your comments, either here or on AO3!

Chapter 12: Pity in Heaven’s Sight

When he next opened his eyes, von Krolock had an overwhelming sensation of physical well-being. He stretched and reached to cover himself. The bedchamber was cold, the fire had died hours ago...

Cold?!

Von Krolock sat up. Sarah didn't stir. He threw off the bedclothes and rose nude from the bed. He stood there, analyzing what he was feeling... He was cold, there was no mistaking it. Shivering, he lit a candle and threw on fresh clothes. He needed to relight the fire for Sarah. He wanted to see if he could feel its heat.

Once lit, the flames danced across Von Krolock's darkly handsome face. He cautiously approached the fireplace. The warmth was like a woman's embrace. How he had missed it. This wasn't possible.

He ran his tongue over his eye teeth. The soreness was gone. He attempted to bare his fangs.

Nothing happened. He jammed his fingers in his mouth. They were gone. The chamber swayed around him. He was dreaming. He was dreaming because he had to give Sarah up and he was going mad with grief and his mind was playing tricks on him.

Perhaps his fangs were blocked, stuck somehow. The proximity of blood would make them reappear. He opened the cabinet and took out a bottle. He attempted a long swig and swallowed.

It was revolting. Stomach-churning. He staggered to the fireplace and spit it back up. His stomach contracted and expelled the rest. He rinsed his mouth with water. Still no fangs. They had simply vanished into thin air.

He sank to the floor, elation and fear mingling as his heart hammered in his chest. His heart... He knelt there, concentrating. The only sound was the crackling of the fire and Sarah's even breathing. But yes...he could hear the blood pumping in his ears.

He tried to quell the rising feeling of panic and joy. He couldn't be sure yet. He had to put himself through the ultimate, most dangerous test for a vampire.

With a last backward glance at Sarah, he opened the door to the balcony little by little, trying to fight the rising fear. The slit of sunlight grew larger as he pushed the door open further. It was so beautiful, that pure sunlight. He shielded his face with his cape and cautiously exposed one hand to the light, shutting his eyes to the burning sensation that never came.

He opened his eyes and extended his arm further. Then he knew. He threw open the door and stepped into the light. It was blinding, it hurt his eyes after having endured so long in the dark, but that was all.

He didn't burn. The glorious sun was melting the snow. He lifted his face to the sky and wept, thanking God or whatever had removed this horrible curse he had lived with for four hundred years. Long moments passed as von Krolock reaccustomed himself to the daylight. He kept looking up at the blue sky over and over. He could not get over the sight of its vivid color, the fluffy clouds, and the flaming ball of the sun, its warm rays easily reaching him in spite of the cold. They felt like the loving touch of God on his face. 

"My lord? Oh, my love!" Sarah screamed as she stood in the doorway. She ran to him, throwing her cloak over his head.

Von Krolock laughed, his voice muffled, and pulled it off. "There is no longer any need for that, Sarah," and his voice was warm and full of good humor as he wrapped her cloak around her, a voice that had lost all its former cyncism and bitterness.

He smiled at her, his face reflecting a joy she had never seen before and its effect was dazzling in the sun. The sinister grin complete with bared fangs to which she had grown accustomed was gone for good. She backed away from him, her hands covering her mouth. "You are..."

"I am mortal once more. Feel my chest. My heart. My heart beating with love for you." She approached him with an outstretched, shaking arm, her hand sliding up under his clothing to access his bare chest. Her palm flattened against his heart. Her face crumpled when she detected it beating.

She sobbed against his chest and then looked up searchingly at him. "Your face..."

"Is it much altered?"

"The scowl is gone, your complexion is..." She ran inside and returned with her hand mirror. Von Krolock grabbed it frantically and stared at his face for the first time in centuries. He had never seen the terrifying changes his transformation had wrought so he would never know how dramatically different he looked now. That was likely for the best. But to see his face again after centuries was wondrous. It brought back so much. He could see both his long-dead parents in his face. He could see his little boy. But that wasn't all. The grey streaks in his black hair were gone. Was he younger now, than when he had been transformed at forty-six? It seemed so. What was his effective age then? Thirty? Thirty-five? Did it matter?

Von Krolock lifted Sarah in a fierce embrace, with a cry of joy. Then they were laughing, weeping, they were incoherent in each other's arms. He heard her utter a grateful prayer to God.

He echoed her Amen. He had no doubt now that he had found pity in Heaven's sight. Had his wife prayed for him? He would never know.

He carried her inside, out of the cold.

"And now, my dearest, dearest lord?" Sarah whispered and he heard the desire in her voice.

"Now, my beloved, I will make love to you this morning as a man and marry you this afternoon."

And von Krolock lowered her onto the bed, feeling his heart beating strongly in his chest.

I live for your comments, on Tumblr or AO3!

Chapter 11: Thoughts of a Nature Dark and Terrible

There followed over the next few weeks an uneasy peace. Von Krolock treated Sarah with the utmost tenderness and delicacy, granting her any request.

He stopped feeding entirely and survived solely on emergency rations, what he took from the larder, and Sarah's breakfast tray. Mostly he felt he was surviving on their love alone. She did not question this. She was quieter these days and he did not know what was in her mind.

Her smile and laughter returned after a time. She was his own sweet Sarah, the only light in his darkness.

They made love as much as possible. He would sing to her in bed, pianissimo against her neck and ear. His seductive baritone alone would drive her almost insane with desire for him. She went outside less often. He did the bare minimum for his estate. It was as if being together almost around the clock could dissipate the ever-present cloud hovering over them. He felt it, even if she did not.

One morning, after an ecstatic night together, von Krolock awakened to the smell of blood. He was dreaming, no doubt. He had never gone this long without fresh blood. He leaned over groggily to kiss his sleeping Sarah but suddenly sat up and stared at her. He sprang up from the bed.

Her monthly courses had come again. The scent was intoxicating and dangerous, for it made him want to...Oh, Hell. He would bite, whether she wanted him to or not.

It was necessary for her to vacate his bed and stay away from him until her time was past. Otherwise, he could not be responsible for his actions. She knew this. They had been through it before.

The first night without her was bitterly lonely for von Krolock. He now had all the time in the world to feed, but he didn't leave the castle walls. In the dead of night, he brooded alone up on the battlements, remembering their first encounter there. It seemed a lifetime ago. Sarah seemed miles away, instead of in another wing of his castle.

If the first night was merely lonely, the next few nights were Hell.

Without Sarah as a distraction, thoughts of a nature dark and terrible came to him unbidden.

Eternity loomed before him, but he now knew he would not share it with Sarah. She was too pure, too precious to ever be transformed. He knew this in his dead soul. Maybe he had always known it. It was clearer to him now than anything in his long existence.

He moved around his estate restlessly, as if trying to escape this reality. He could not shake it off. How could this be happening to him? All those centuries before she was born he had been waiting for her. He had watched her as a small child, witnessed her blossom into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was destined to be his, he knew this.

Only not for all time.

In life, von Krolock had never been a moral man. He had indulged in carnal lust, had mistresses aplenty. He was indifferent to the Church and seldom attended Mass. And yet...Sarah’s faith was so strong. He could not take it away from her, rob her of the hope in God.

If he loved her less, he could stifle all these doubts and transform her. He could subdue her physically and thrust his fangs deep into her throat, as he had done with hundreds of women, whether they wanted immortality or not. But with Sarah...it would be like violent rape.

He was on the battlements again the following night. It was raining hard. He lifted his head to the sky and shrieked in pain. He collapsed onto the ground and pounded it with his fist, his cape spreading all around him. He was soaked to the skin and sobbing uncontrollably. The thunderous storm raged on, and his cries of despair were lost in the wind.

It had been almost a week and Sarah's courses would soon be coming to an end. Von Krolock sat in his library, motionless in thought. He had still not fed or eaten in days, he had only drunk water which he had grown to crave.

The initial panic had faded and he was now more rational. He was thinking of her, only of her and what would be best. It gave him purpose to formulate a plan, all for her benefit. Not his. Those days were over.

He would give her up. She wouldn't want him to, but he would make her understand. He would remind her of everything she would gain. She could practice her faith, marry, give birth to children, live in the sun, and know she had the promise of Heaven after death. He could be very persuasive when he wished. He had convinced many women to return to their families. He would convince Sarah.

She would never see him again. But he would see her. He would render himself invisible and observe her through life. He would need to ensure that all was well, and if not, he would interfere in any way he could without revealing himself. He would doubtless witness her wedding night, if he could bear it. The thought devastated him but he would do so, if only to see for himself that Sarah had endured well enough.

For never could he stand by to see her abused by her husband or have some accident befall her that he could prevent. He would become her angel again, her protector. He would devote his entire existence to her until her death. He wished a long life for her. He would see her growing older. If by some miracle her soul passed into Heaven during the night, he would be invisibly at her side as she breathed her last, and only then would he cast his spell and sing his song for her, the last thing she would hear before meeting her Maker, so that she would know he had loved her until death and beyond.

And after? It was simple. He would also die. He would be ready and willing. He would walk directly into the sunlight and dissolve into nothing. Would there be anything after? He doubted it. It didn't matter. She would be an eternal angel and he would be dust.

He would have a will drawn up and leave his estate to Sarah’s future children, or, if she had no surviving issue, his servants. He would inform them all of this eventuality and that would encourage them to assist him in a last act that would benefit humanity: he would reveal to his heirs the hiding places of all the vampires in the forest and ensure that each and every one of them met their deaths via a stake through the heart. The villagers would see to that. But what of Johanna, she who had served as his mistress for centuries? He would see to her end himself, with one merciful blow as she slept.

As for his own end, there remained one hope, though a very faint one. He would confront the light in his family's chapel within the castle. The stained glass window reflected the sunlight wonderfully. He remembered that after all of these centuries. He had never demolished the chapel, despite the huge cross at the altar. His servants used it and as long as he never entered, there was no danger.

But enter it he would, on this, his last day of existence. He would kneel at the altar and let the sun fall on his face. If he had time before he dissolved he would pray that God forgive all his sins, and let him enter Paradise to reunite with his beloved.

Either God would hear him, or he would be obliterated. It was not up to him and he would submit to his fate.

He was at peace. A perfect peace because he found joy in Sarah's liberation. He must think of her and only her.

Her courses were over and they were together again. By now, von Krolock was very weak. He had not fed nor ingested any mortal food for so long, he knew he wouldn't have the strength to make love to her for the last time. He would have to leave her to feed directly after dinner. He saw to it that she was served all her favorites, and the scent of the meat, the fruit, easily reached his nostrils. He was so happy for her. Truly. Sarah would have a lifetime of health on such food. She would never know the taste of blood.

The meal finished, they rose and he embraced her, mindful to comport himself as if this were any other evening, although he wanted to crush her against his chest and sob desperately into her hair.

She looked up at him, a frown on her face. "My lord...are you...what is wrong?"

He smiled sadly down at her. "I'm tired. I thirst. I must feed tonight, my sweet."

"You were so quiet at dinner." She touched his face and he grasped her hand, kissing her fingers reverently.

"I will feel better after I feed. Wait for me, Sarah—" To his horror, his voice broke. He tried to hide it with a kiss. He released her and strode quickly away.

Von Krolock used no discretion in hunting his prey. Time was marching on. He could not afford to be selective. He came across a barmaid exiting a tavern and slammed her against a fence. She screamed. Von Krolock ripped her sleeve and exposed her shoulder and neck. Clearly, she feared rape but when the lights from the tavern revealed his bared fangs, her cry of terror made him hesitate. He stared down at her, his face ghastly.

"Get me some ale." He shoved her towards the tavern door. She stood frozen, too frightened to move.

"Did you hear me, woman?" von Krolock snarled. "Get me some ale! A whole stein's worth! Or I will tear your throat open!" His booming voice was terrifying.

The barmaid ran inside. Von Krolock waited, his panting breath visible in the cold. He had no idea if the ale would have the desired effect in place of blood, but he could not feed, would not feed, until Sarah was gone. He would never face her again with blood oozing from his mouth.

The barmaid emerged with a stein. He grabbed it without a word, turned his back, and guzzled down the frothy liquid in seconds.

"Another." His voice was guttural. Somehow he knew drunkenness was something he would not feel, just as he could not sicken. He gulped down the second stein just as quickly, threw it at the astonished barmaid's feet. The ale was having the desired effect, and he spread his wings, miraculously. 

Despite his command for her to wait for him, Sarah was fast asleep upon his return. So he would have one more night to rouse her to love. He bathed quickly. Absentmindedly, he noticed that his arms appeared to have gained an almost lifelike hue. He touched his face thoughtfully. Was this what Ludwig had meant about his pallor? He rose from the bath. He didn't care what was happening to him. All that mattered was Sarah.

Von Krolock gazed down at her, lying sweetly in his bed made for her. It reminded him so much of the first night when he touched her in her little bedroom as she slept.

He lay down and held her, singing into her ear to wake her:

"Schweb mit mir in den Abgrund der Nacht

Und verlier dich in mir

Wir werden bis zum Ende jeder Ewigkeit gehn

Ich hüll dich ein in meinen Schatten..."

(Float with me in the abyss of night.

And lose yourself in me

We will go until the end of eternity

I'll wrap you up in my shadow...)

She smiled with her eyes closed.

Von Krolock lowered himself to taste her, as he had the first time. They had come full circle.

If Sarah wasn't awake before, she certainly was now as she moved her hips against him. He looped his arms around her thighs to sink his mouth in deeper. He moaned and his deep voice vibrating against her combined with the force of his tongue made her cry out her joy.

He made love to her for the remainder of the night. Von Krolock was sometimes achingly tender, sometimes brutally passionate. What mattered most was her absolute pleasure, for he wanted her to remember this night and cherish it all her life.

Dawn was approaching. He thrust into her for the last time. He was exhausted but needed to be inside of her once more. He wasn't able to wait for her, and when his climax came upon him, he shouted out his love for Sarah, collapsing onto her breast in tears.

His dearest love...how could he do this to her? He would break her heart but he must do so. She was so young. She may suffer now, but with maturity, she would come to understand his great sacrifice for her sake.

Von Krolock watched her sleep while he wept quietly, not wishing to wake her. He whispered:

"Uns beide trennt nur noch ein winziges Stück

Wenn ich dich rufe hält dich nichts mehr zurück..."

(Only a tiny distance separates us now

When I call you, nothing will hold you back...)

He would tell her upon her awakening. He was too tired to think. His fangs were aching in a way they never had before. He tried baring them to ease the sensation but they stayed retracted. He didn't care. Sarah was all that mattered. Sleep would give him the strength to do what he must do.

25 years ago today on July 21, 2001, this talented, wonderful man left us. Steve, you are loved and you enrich my life. But today I smile up at you through a veil of tears.

Keep singing, dearest. And I will hear.

I LIVE for your comments, either here or on AO3!

Chapter 10: Forever Starts Tonight

Winter’s first snow started to fall gently in the dead of night as von Krolock was feeding. He let his victim drop to the ground and glanced sharply at the sky. The full moon illuminated the delicate snowflakes as they whirled in a gust of wind.

So it was here at last. The moment was at hand. Sarah would be his for all time. He spread his wings and flew home in triumph.

She would be ignorant of the snow in their windowless bedroom. He would let her discover it in the morning on her daily outing. By this time tomorrow, she would walk into the darkness.

Upon his return from feeding, von Krolock was extraordinarily tender with her on this, her last full night as a mortal. He caressed the roses in her cheeks, knowing they would fade. Sarah, his dearest love...He was overcome as he fulfilled her, she was so easy to please and he gazed down at the last flush of blood spreading across her breasts and almost wept at her beauty.

He slept fitfully during the day, anticipating the coming night and the transformation it would bring.

At dinner, he seated himself at her side instead of their usual custom of facing each other. He could not stop touching her, even while she ate her last meal. He knew she knew. She was very quiet. They spoke of inconsequential things, delaying the inevitable.

When she had finished, he led her over the drawbridge and into the night. They stood gazing at the moonlit patches of snow on the ground as he enfolded her in his cape.

"My lord...I know my time has run out. I knew this morning when I went outside."

Von Krolock said nothing but kissed the top of her head.

"Please tell me...when exactly is it to be?" She turned in his embrace to face him, her eyes dull.

"Tonight," he responded in a low, seductive voice. "We will bathe together and then to bed. After I transform you we will consummate our love as immortals and I will reward you with a night like no other. I won't feed tonight. Transforming you will be more than enough."

"And you say I will no longer feel cold?"

"No, my love. You will never again suffer these mortal discomforts."

Sarah wiggled out of his arms and stepped over to a heap of snow by the drawbridge. She scooped it up in her gloveless hands and rubbed it on her face. She did this several times and he indulged her.

Finally, she returned to his arms. "I wanted to feel the cold one last time."

He was silent at first, moved beyond words.

"...I know."

Sarah preferred to bathe alone and Von Krolock let her. She was in there a long time, savoring her last truly hot bath. After tonight they would just feel lukewarm.

While she was thus occupied, Von Krolock busied himself lighting every single candle. He wanted to see clearly every detail of the night, to imprint it on his memory forever.

When she finally emerged from her bath in her nightdress, her dark hair flowing, he seized her passionately, kissing her in the brutal way she loved.

"Sarah..." He was hugely erect and his fangs were bared. His eyes smoldered a supernatural black. On this night, he looked every inch the vampire. Sarah gently extricated herself. 

"My lord, wait. I have one more favor to ask you."

"What is it?" He was panting. His fangs were killing him, so near were they to their target.

"Will you give me leave to pray before you take me?"

Von Krolock had not expected this. It was a waste of time, but it was almost impossible for a mortal to understand this until after transformation. Yet, why not? They could laugh about it later.

He bowed and gestured to the bed. "By all means, my love."

Sarah moved past without looking at him and knelt by the bedside. She lowered her head and covered her eyes with her hands. Long moments passed. She did not pray aloud. Though her back was turned to him, von Krolock watched her for a time, until he couldn't bear it anymore and turned away.

At length she whispered a small "Amen" and he turned to see her crossing herself. She rose unsteadily, grabbing onto the edge of the bed.

When Sarah turned to face him, she had never appeared more beautiful. She was now more woman than girl and her face reflected her deep love for him.

"I am yours, my lord. Lead me into the darkness and I will obey."

With a growl, von Krolock approached her, shoving her so that she fell on the bed. He wanted them naked for this and he ripped off her nightdress and threw off his robe, tossing them both on the floor. Then he lay upon her and writhed restlessly against her. He was wild with anticipation and desire.

His mouth neared her throat which she exposed by tilting her head. He could already almost taste her blood.

"Sarah, my dearest love...our forever starts tonight..."

Von Krolock opened his mouth wide and swooped down. Sarah whimpered. It was a small, pathetic sound. His fangs nearly punctured her flesh but he stopped himself just in time.

He raised his head from her throat and stared down at her. Tears were forming in her eyes, which were tightly shut.

She doesn't want this. Not any part of it, you monster. She only agreed to it because she loves you so.

Von Krolock's fangs retracted. He would not do it.

He slid off of her and lay beside her. He was breathing hard and couldn't speak for a time.

Sarah was now weeping openly. "Forgive me, my lord. Forgive me. I am sorry I wept. Please. Proceed. Ignore my tears."

She tried to grab his shoulders, to maneuver him on top of her again.

"NO, SARAH!" von Krolock bellowed and pushed her away. He felt his fangs reappearing. He was afraid that if she insisted, instinct would take over and he would bite before he could stop himself.

She continued weeping. He rose and put out all the candles save one.

"You have every right to be angry with me, my lord. I should have been more courageous. I should have trusted you."

He wanted badly to hold her and comfort her but he was too stunned. He was in discomfort too, his fangs still ached with disappointment.

A terrible feeling of foreboding was taking over his mind and body. He felt sick, even though vampires were supposedly beyond such things.

He tried to ignore what he was suffering. It was more important to reassure Sarah.

" Child...it is not your fault. I was overhasty and demanding to ask this of you so soon. But now I see the error of my ways. Have no fear. We can delay your transformation. Let us not mention it any further for now. Please, don't weep so. I love you more than my own eternal life!"

And then he himself was weeping and they embraced each other tightly.

WHO ELSE COULD KISS FINGERS SO SEDUCTIVELY??

Chapter 9: The Powers I Possess

At dinner the next evening, von Krolock was gentle and deferent with Sarah but yawning, although he had slept deeply through the day. Her beloved needed another good feed, she could now easily tell when he was particularly hungry.

Her dinner consumed, Sarah rose without waiting for him to assist her. He crossed to her side and she embraced him, her head against his chest.

“Take all the time you need to feed, my love. Even if you require all night.” She looked up at him and her brow furrowed. “You do take care when you hunt, do you not? You don’t take risks?”

Von Krolock laughed softly and stroked her chin. “No human or animal is any match for my strength, never fear.”

Her face fell. “So you still hunt humans.”

He hesitated and avoided her gaze. “Sarah…”

“I forgive you, you know…If you do.” Her voice was small.

“I do what I must,” he whispered and bent to kiss her forehead. “Until tonight, my sweet.”

Sarah watched him retreat, his cape flowing behind him, and felt a love overflowing her heart that defied measurement. Von Krolock had lost some of his mystery for her, for his innate goodness had not been tarnished by his affliction, this curse that had been forced upon him. If he must feed on human blood, which by now she understood gave him more energy and nutrition than that of animals or his rations, she knew he would choose with discretion. When her time came, she would follow his lead in this. He would teach her, just as he had taught her the pleasures of love in his bed.

His bed…There was nowhere else she would rather be. But for now, a lonely night lay ahead, for something told her von Krolock would be a long time in returning.

Sarah stretched out in the library in front of the fire, taking up the book she was close to finishing and settled in, eventually falling asleep, before waking up to Maria’s gentle pat on her shoulder. She helped her mistress upstairs and saw to it that her bath was prepared. The fire in von Krolock’s bedchamber had been lit and Sarah warmed herself in front of it, rubbing her hair dry. She had brought a new book from the library upstairs with her, and it proved so diverting as she sat before the fire, that she scarcely realized that hours had passed. It was now close to three in the morning.

She was tired and knew she should climb into bed, but she felt compelled to open the door to the balcony and slip outside, something she could never do during the day while von Krolock slept. She pulled her cloak tightly around herself as the cold air hit her. The torches from the drawbridge and battlements gave some feeble light but otherwise it was oppressively dark.

This, then, was the world in which von Krolock lived. For Sarah, the night was something only experienced from within her cottage, once she had grown into a woman. The village’s fear of von Krolock caused most parents to lock their daughters of marriageable age inside after sunset. It was liberating to step out into the night alone. She gazed at the vast blackness far below her and knew that this was where her village lay. He must be down there somewhere. She tried not to picture too clearly what he was undoubtedly doing. She told herself that once transformed it wouldn’t seem as horrific.

At this thought she noticed a dark form appear in the sky, framed from behind by the full moon. It was winged….shaped like a large bat. She gasped as the shape swooped down out of view. Then von Krolock’s unmistakable caped figure was seen at the drawbridge and the gate was raised.

Sarah put a hand to her mouth. Had he…What had she just witnessed?

She dashed inside, shutting the door behind her, panting. He would join her soon. She rushed across the bedchamber and into bed, her heart pounding.

Moments later, von Krolock entered as quietly as he could. The only light emanated from the fireplace. Sarah didn’t stir. Doubtless at this hour he assumed she was asleep. He came to the bedside and watched her as she lay still. Satisfied, he turned and began removing his bloody clothes.

Once he had crawled into bed, clean again and naked, she pretended to awaken.

“Sweetest girl,” von Krolock murmured, nuzzling her throat, his fangs brushing harmlessly against the soft skin. He pushed her nightdress up to her hips and caressed her thighs. “Do you wish for the touch of my hand on you tonight? Or my mouth?” He didn’t wait for her to respond and lowered his head between her legs, his mouth wide, his tongue probing.

Sarah writhed restlessly at his touch. “I wish to know…ah…” She shuddered as he gripped her thighs, spreading them further apart to taste her more fully.

“Know what, my love?” Von Krolock’s voice was low and heavy with lust against her flesh. 

“My lord…do you have wings?”

Von Krolock’s tongue froze. He wiped his mouth and raised his head to meet her gaze, his scowl terrifying, fangs bared.

“Sarah…Has Maria been telling you stories?”

“…No.”

“Have you ever observed wings on my back?”

“No…” Sarah’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Well then,” he shrugged and gave her a smile combined with his deep scowl that chilled her.

“You haven’t told me everything. What happens…after transformation. Please don’t be angry with me, my lord. I saw you tonight. I was on the balcony and I saw…your wings.”

Von Krolock moved up from between Sarah’s legs and held her gently in his arms. “I am not angry, dearest. So you weren’t asleep when I came in.”

“Will you tell me? Everything? What powers you possess? What powers I might gain myself?”

Von Krolock sighed. He had a raging erection, but that would have to wait.

“I will tell you, child, if you promise not to be frightened.”

“Nothing frightens me with you at my side.”

Von Krolock felt a pang of guilt. He had not told her everything, not at all. The less obvious physical changes, the despair that eternity brought, the constant need to feed. But all that was for another night. He would concentrate on the positive aspects for now.

She settled onto his shoulder as if ready to hear a fairy tale. Von Krolock kissed her before speaking.

“My love, when you undergo transformation, you will gain certain powers that mortals do not possess. What powers exactly is anyone’s guess. It is different for every vampire. Do you remember when I first came to you…I moved through the wall of your cottage into your bedroom?”

Sarah nodded against his shoulder.

“That is a power I used countless times to watch over you while you slept.”

“You watched me sleep?”

“Not every night. But as much as I was able, I would visit you.” Von Krolock thought it prudent not to mention that there were some nights after feeding when he was otherwise occupied.

“I never saw you once.”

“You wouldn’t have. I was invisible. Another of the powers I possess.”

“How long would you stay?”

“Sometimes an hour. Sometimes all night. I never tired of seeing your sweet face. But it was only when you grew into a true woman that I desired you so fiercely.” He squeezed her breast.

“I never heard you.”

“Oh, you heard me. Remember, I would sing to you. Softly into your ear. And other times outside your window. You always heard me. You would smile in your sleep and turn your head in my direction.”

“And yet I never awakened. My parents never…”

Von Krolock smiled into her hair. “Evidence of further powers that I possess.”

“But…what of your wings, my lord?”

He paused. “Those came to me later. I had to wait almost a hundred years to acquire them. Some vampires never do. But it freed me from having to own and maintain horses. I no longer have need of them although I keep a few donkeys and mules for my servants. My wings appear at will and disappear when I am on my feet once more. This is the most potent of all my powers and the most useful. It enables me to travel to distant towns if needed to hunt my prey. I hunt in the village if I spot any outsiders but otherwise, on the nights I feed, I am often fifty leagues or more away.”

Sarah shivered, imagining him feeding on some poor soul, so far away from her.

“So you see why you need never fear for me when I leave you.”

“You are invincible.”

“Nearly.” Von Krolock maneuvered Sarah so he was on top of her, his erection insistent against her thigh. “But I may die tonight if I don’t have you now.” He began pulling off her nightdress.

“Is there more to tell me, my lord?” Sarah gasped between his fervent kisses.

Chapter 8: More and More Altered

Von Krolock awoke late the next morning with an impressive erection. With no candles lit, it was pitch black. He reached for Sarah in the darkness and made love to her quickly but intensely. He was in a better frame of mind with the light of day, so to speak, the light he never saw. He didn't know why his mood had turned so morbid last night. Too much moralizing, too much philosophizing. He had indulged in so much self-reflection and self-doubt since Sarah's arrival, it was driving him mad.

Don't think so much. She wants you as much as you want her. She wants you to do it. She wants eternity with you.

Sarah's breakfast was brought up. She had requested coffee, something von Krolock had never drunk in his mortal life, coffee being unknown in Europe at the time. He had sent his cook to the village to procure it. He had also ensured it was served with cool water from the well, as he had heard how bitter coffee could be. To his surprise, Sarah drank the whole cup, then cheerfully left him for her bath.

He lounged on the bed and took up the cup, sniffing. Awful. How could she drink it? He certainly wasn't missing anything there. His eyes traveled to the glass filled with water. Water was as essential to humans as blood was to vampires. He put the glass to his nose. Nothing. Did water even have a smell? He couldn't remember.

Nothing was more pure to ingest though. The bread he spat out had been too dense. He wondered if he could tolerate plain water. Cautiously, almost guiltily, he put the glass to his closed mouth. He let the water slosh against his lips. This was not threatening so far. After all, he rinsed with water, cleaned his teeth with it.

He opened his mouth and took the smallest of sips. He swallowed and waited. Nothing. He took another, bigger sip, and this was enough to activate his taste buds. Memories came rushing back. Water from his well in the summer after a day out hunting. Bread and water when they fasted on holy days.

He drank some more. It was glorious. Before he knew it, he finished the whole glass. He wanted more, so he took the pitcher and drank directly from it. He consumed it all. He waited some more. Would he vomit it up or would some other evil consequence befall him?

He felt no ill effects so far, on the contrary, he felt extraordinarily refreshed. Was it better than blood? Well...no. Nothing was, but it felt so clean and light as it slid down his throat. He would try again tomorrow and see if he could build up a tolerance.

Over the next few days, von Krolock grew bolder. He would still feed at night but before going up to his bedchamber to make love to Sarah, he would steal into his kitchens. It had been centuries since he had ventured there last. He quickly located the larder. There was a variety of options to choose from, as it was necessary not only to keep provisions for Sarah but also for his human servants. He had been employing humans from almost the onset of his transformation. In that time, the villagers had learned to covet the opportunity to work for von Krolock. He paid and treated them well, it was steady, dependable work, and he never once attacked them. They had his word on that. What sense would there be in breaking it? He would just have to replace them. That said, he saw to it that he never employed younger, attractive women. If temptation proved too much and he transformed them or merely took them to bed, he would grow a reputation and no one would work for him anymore.

He was careful not to take too much from the larder. No one should suspect. It was ridiculous, really. He was lord and master here, he could take what he wanted. But, no. He must be especially careful that Sarah should not know. Until he had seen this out and was able to ascertain what was happening to him, why this was happening to him, he must guard his secret from her.

He filched a strip of dry bacon and wrapped it in his handkerchief. He was especially curious about meat and he wondered if his body would reject it. Animal flesh was the closest thing to blood. Would it satisfy him? He wanted to wait until he was actually hungry and needing to feed. Then he would try. Then he would know.

Sarah was asleep. It was one of his greatest pleasures, rousing her to love, after his bath. He placed the bacon in the cabinet and then thought better of it. He had only sucked two hens dry from a barnyard. It hadn't been enough but he couldn't bring himself to feed further. Of late, he had been experiencing less and less gratification following a feed, whether he feasted on humans or animals. And he was eager to get back to Sarah. He wanted her desperately tonight, more than usual. He ordered his bath drawn and sank into it gratefully. He lay back but he couldn't truly relax. With every passing day and night, he was feeling more and more altered, and he could no longer deny this. He could scarcely put into words what this entailed. Was it more physical than mental? Was it both? Was he losing his mind?

He had a sneaking suspicion that Sarah was the cause. He had no proof of this but he merely had to list everything that had occurred since abducting her: his pallor had changed, at least according to Ludwig, and his reaction was so genuine, von Krolock knew it to be true. He could now smell all food and wine. He had been drinking water for days with no ill effects whatsoever. His need to feed was growing less intense, but he knew he must feed nonetheless to survive.

He sat up, took a reckless first bite of the bacon, and chewed. It was utterly bizarre how his teeth remembered to do this. The salty taste was Heaven. He devoured the rest as if was the most natural thing. And it was. He was the unnatural one.

Von Krolock sank back into the water, the taste of bacon lingering in his mouth. It was then that a thought resurfaced that he had tried repeatedly to repress.

He was now not convinced that on that horrible night four hundred years ago, he had actually been fully transformed. When he had begged her not to drain him, did she cease before the transformation was complete? Was this the reason he could retract his fangs, weep, choose his victims with discretion, and indeed, fall in love as he had with Sarah?

There was no one to ask. Not God, vampire, or mortal. But in the end, his transformation had been thorough enough; his fangs were a constant reminder.

When he finally crept into bed, Sarah was awake, he could tell. There was an uneasy silence before she spoke.

"How much longer?" she whispered and he knew her meaning.

"A month...or less...when the first snow falls."