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Sunlight weighed over the manor like a blanket, laying over the foundation and snuggling into the nooks and crannies. The sun tried to burst through the seams, wriggling through the windows' seams. It failed. Renfield was a good servant, blocking the light out with ornate curtains and planks of wood.
He arose from his sleep and went about the manor, setting out to accomplish his duties for the day. He roamed about, checking and recalibrating the traps set out for hunters.
Having finished, Renfield went out to the nearby village. The day before, he scouted for worthy prey and found a fair maiden at the local library. With luck, she was found sitting there once again.
Using his awkward demeanor to his advantage, he picked up a book and walked towards the poor girl, stumbling once near and dropping the novel. She reached down to help him, charmed by his boyish looks.
"Thank you, I'm awfully clumsy," Renfield said.
"It was my pleasure," she smiled.
Renfield stretched out his hand for a shake. "I'm Robert, and you are?"
"Abigail," the girl introduced herself with a nod, "it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Renfield looked away and placed his hand agaibst his neck. "Lady Abigail, would you be so kind as to accompany me this day? I would like to go on a gander." He gave an awkward smile.
Abigail meekly agreed and followed him out the building. Passing an alleyway, Renfield quickly looked around for witnesses and drugged her. He retrieved a beetle from his bug box and dragged her body back to the manor with his newfound power.
He hung her body in the basement, the hooks piercing through her flesh. He used a knife to carve through her skin and drain her of her blood. He collected her life drop by drop, keeping it in pails for his master. Her life was to be used for his master's wine at a later gala they would be hosting.
Her body was frail and pale, reduced to a cold corpse. He took her off the hooks and dragged her limp body to the garden. With a shovel he dug and dug until he created a hole six feet deep. He threw her in and covered her, dirt, stones, and worms dumped over her body. Followed the sun's last rays she was gone forever, never to be seen again.
At sunset he lit the candles in the manor. A low glow filled the halls, shadows dancing on the walls as Renfield walked by. Footfalls echoed throughout the space as he traversed to the master bedroom. The door opened with a loud creek.
He went to the Count's coffin, awaiting his master like a good little dog. Fidgety fingers did a little dance, wriggling on each other as he stood weary.
"Servant," his master's low gravelly voice echoed inside the coffin.
Renfield rushed forward, awkwardly opening Dracula's resting place. The Count arose from his slumber with a dignified grace. His hand splayed out, stopping near Renfield's head. Renfield kissed each finger and ring with devotion, a ritual born from decades of reverence.
He helped his master out of the coffin and gently set it closed.
Dracula's talons tore into flesh. He clawed at Renfield's face, digging deep through bone and piercing the soft jelly of his brain. Blood and brain matter dripped down Dracula's hand. Dracula growled, his anger rolling off him in waves. He shook Renfield off his arm, Renfield's body falling limp to the ground.
Dracula stradled him. He caressed what remained of Renfield's head, spreading the blood on pale skin. Dracula licked his life away, savoring the sweet blood.
He was loved.