Be Careful What You Wish For
Immortal Me

Spring 1469…

“Your majesty, I present Demoncend.” The court messenger bowed low to the ground, his arms out to his right indicating the man coming through the doorway. The man who entered was strangely calm, and approached the throne without any apparent fear or worry.

“Demoncend, I have been searching the land for people of power who can grant me what I seek.”

“And what is that sire?” The man looked up at Vlad through a hooded robe, and Vlad gasped outright. His yes were yellow! Bright yellow!

“Yes, well I seek the power of eternal life. I wish to not die of old age; can you assist me in that?”

“Aye sire, that I can. Eternal life you shall have.” With that the strange man smiled sadly and turned to leave.

“That’s all? You say a few words and just leave? No waving your hands in the air or combining strange powders? No elixirs, potions or enchantments? How am I to know what you say will come to pass?”

“Sire, true power needs no powders or waving hands, just words. Words are man’s most powerful tool. They allow us to achieve feats mere beasts cannot. And as for your eternal life, have a feast Easter day and invite the remaining Boyar families, I trust you’ll be able to find them. At the end of the dinner you’ll know that what you have asked I have granted.” And with that the strange man left Vlad’s halls, leaving Vlad confused, yet determined. That night he invited all the boyar families across Transylvania and Walachia to attend an Easter dinner.

Preparations were made, invitations sent out and a few weeks later the families arrived, albeit nervous that this was some trick. Why would the man whom their family betrayed invite them to a dinner? Nonetheless they came.

Dinner was well underway; the main course had been served. Sautéed duck, minced lamb, chicken gravy and other mouth watering meals littered the table. Vlad’s guests feasted merrily. Vlad’s appetite had been whetted, but not for food. He ate his duck and lamb with immense voracity yet he could not satiate his appetite. He had a…thirst that he could not quench, a hunger that he could not satisfy.

At some point during the meal a Boyar girl to his right accidentally sliced her finger on her knife. The young maiden yelped as blood trickled down her finger onto her wrist. Vlad could not help but stare. Something about the wound compelled Vlad. The sight of her blood made his mouth water. He could not contain himself. Vlad waved over his captain of the guard and told him to quietly have the hall doors barred shut. He conveyed a plan to kill all of his father’s betrayers. The Boyars soon found themselves in a dinning hall closed off to the outside, with guards lining the walls. Some screamed, some fought, and some tried to flee as the soldiers cut them down where they stood. Vlad had the entire family impaled on large stakes that his soldiers brought in.

Blood streamed down the bodies of his guests, who now hung lifeless inside the once magnificent dining hall. Vlad filled his goblet with the blood of the Boyars and drank his fill. The blood…satisfied him, made him feel alive. He felt younger, stronger when he drank the blood. Suddenly Vlad had a horrific realization. His mind raced to that night with the strange man in his throne room. The man told him he would know. He told Vlad to invite the Boyars here, and that he would know his search for eternal life was over. Was this it? Was he condemned to eternity to drink the blood of his fellow man? Vlad smiled, blood running down his teeth onto his chin. Count Vlad Dracula would gladly drink the blood of his enemies in order to live forever.

~ end ~