Chapter Text
The bat hovered above the dense and gloomy blanket of the forest, peering into the fog that crept in every free space between the trees. The white mist was thick and probably wouldn't have disappeared until the morning. However, regardless of the weather, the vampire continued his flight. He would be ashamed to waste precious time. His wings hurt, and he was already struggling to keep flapping, sometimes spreading them and trusting the air to keep him flying. Making regular descents, Dracula made sure that he didn't lose his way. Finding the vampire bank building in such a bleak wilderness was quite a challenge.
As he flew forward, tall thin pines and sprawling firs changed to swampy terrain. Drac could make out berry bushes and dark dangerous quagmire below. He admitted that he was weak, not eating properly for the second day, and even a handful of any berries would have come in handy. But he flattered himself that he would eat enough after his matter for that night was resolved one way or the other. So, after a couple more minutes, the Count's gaze with a sense of triumph came across an important landmark stating that his destination was very close.
Landing on the wet grass, Dracula grunted and stretched up his arms, relieving the accumulated tension, and then approached a thick oak tree. An old wooden signpost was stuck next to the trunk, which was exactly what he looked for.
"The Commercial Bank of Sighisoara. No humans allowed. The passage is limited." He read the inscription in Romanian and rolled his eyes expressively, even though no one could see him. "Ha, no humans allowed... Rest assured, no human who values their life will come even ten kilometers closer!"
In fact, any thoughts about humans were now gnawing at his heart, after what he had been through. Drac hoped to heal his soul as far as possible from the danger that could still threaten him and his little daughter, but at the same time he began to act with serious intentions. So far, this was only the beginning of his thorny path, a very tedious and nerve-robbing beginning.
Nevertheless, what was written on the sign was true and strictly observed. As Drac was told, he had to stand in this place until security came for him and escorted him into the building. These were the safety requirements in the situation in which the society of monsters, especially vampires as the most hunted, was at significant risk.
The vampire waited and listened to the sounds of the night forest, shifting from foot to foot and tapping his fingers on the oak bark. The trees surrounded him on all sides, and no matter how much he looked, he haven't yet noticed someone else's approach. It seemed to Drac that an eternity had passed. Perhaps the reason was impatience, or maybe a hungry rumbling in the stomach. He snorted in annoyance. Thinking that he had had enough, the Count moved from his place and resolutely headed in the direction indicated by the pointed side of the wooden plaque, and immediately he was almost knocked down by a sharp gust of air.
"Who goes there?!" Two stern voices broke the silence.
"What the... What the hell?!" Dracula stood up straight and hissed reproachfully, studying the two figures in front of him. They were bank guards in uniforms and collarless capes, armed with sheathed swords.
"It's all right, Mr. Impaler," one of them spoke coldly, hurt by his reaction. "We see that it is you. But you shouldn't just walk around the territory."
"We are following orders to increase vigilance when customers come to us," the second added more mildly. "Now, with your permission, we will escort you inside, sir. The expert on duty is already waiting for you."
"Good," Drac muttered discontentedly and followed them a little behind, adjusting his cape and neckerchief. He needed to gather his willpower and get this over with as soon as possible. Unfortunately, there was no other way out but to go to the banks.
After making their way along a rather inconvenient path with pits and roots sticking out of the ground, the two guards and Dracula reached a clearing that seemed cramped because of the abundantly growing forest around its edges. Drac looked up at the facade of a small old building with a stone porch and columns, gloomy gray and reminiscent of the Renaissance in style. There was nothing pretentious or presentable about the building, its appearance was rather repulsive and frustrating, but for an official institution of oppressed vampires leading a hidden lifestyle, this was the very thing. Any bank like this operated in such a difficult time in a cautious and flexible schedule, and meetings were arranged in advance by mail. Fortunately, Dracula was lucky to be here that night.
The doors were slowly opened in front of the Count, and he entered the unknown, keeping an impassive and confident face. In his heart, he felt different, although somewhere else there was a glimmer of hope that this time everything would work out. There was a big chance that he was not particularly favored here either.
"This way, sir," the accompanying guard pointed to a dark leather-covered door directly opposite. Drac walked towards it through the depressingly empty, as if abandoned hall and questioningly raised his hand to knock.
"Come in!" Behind the door, he was immediately invited inside. Drac turned to look at the guards, but both had already disappeared from the room. He had no choice but to go inside the reception room.
The quite spacious room was even darker than the night outside, and if he hadn't had vampire vision, he would have fully felt all this bone-chilling darkness. On the wide desk, the flame of a single melting candle wavered, which was hardly enough to just see what was written on the papers lying there. Behind the desk, three identical tall and narrow windows in white wooden frames looked out onto the forest. Two chairs for clients and an armchair for the bank worker were placed at the table, and along the side walls, bookcases up to the ceiling stood in the shadow. Studying the room, Dracula didn't immediately focus on the one who he came to.
A lean, detached green-eyed vampire, who looked about a thousand years old, was leaning against the wall and thoughtfully smoking through the slightly open window in the middle. Seeing that his visitor was already there, he moved wearily, stubbing out his cigarette on the windowsill, and approached his workplace.
"Night, Mr. Impaler. I'm sorry for all the inconvenience, but you know what's going on these days, don't you? Have a seat, anyway, you have some business with our bank, since you have arrived," he spoke in an official tone, overcoming the lethargy in his voice. Drac nodded, trying not to show his bewilderment, and took one of the chairs, laying his hands on his lap.
The bank's consultant also sank into his armchair, arms folded expectantly on the table top. His eyes observed Dracula skeptically from under lowered eyelids and eyebrows. Drac wasn't intimidated, even though he sensed that it didn't bode well, and he wished there was someone else in the reception room. But none of the vampire banks ever were full of life. And they were just the two of them here.
"I came here," the Count didn't waste more time, explaining the purpose honestly and directly, "so that you would give me a loan to build a hotel and start a business. So, the maximum amount you can give me?"
After listening and comprehending his insistent words, the duty expert looked at him and silently looked away, as if regretting. He mentally gained patience, predicting a long and tense conversation that would not yield any significant results. Nevertheless, Dracula stared at him intently and waited for an answer to be given to him.
"Perhaps you are getting ahead of yourself, Count. If I understood correctly, do you need a piece of land to own, and then materials for construction and landscaping? But you don't have financial support?"
"No," Drac's brows furrowed stubbornly. "That's why I need the start-up money."
"Alright, and how much initial capital are you looking for?" The consultant asked uncertainly, without giving any hope in advance.
"About a little less than a million dollars for everything put together," Dracula was not at a loss. After voicing the amount, he gazed even more questioningly at the older vampire.
"Well, I'm sorry that you've heard this before, but... I can't approve a loan for you." The man leisurely stood up and put his hand on his tiny waist, calmly preparing for the most unpleasant part.
"But why?!" Dracula cried indignantly and jumped off the seat, but, remembering how his hotheaded slam of his palms on the table was regarded in the last bank, restrained himself and hit his hips in anger, falling back into the chair. He exhaled sharply and slightly raised his hands in a sign that he was giving up. "Anyway... I demand to explain why."
The consultant nodded and turned to the right, going between two bookcases and farther. There was a turn of the key in the lock, and he creaked the door, disappearing into another room for a couple of minutes. He returned to Drac, carrying a thick cardboard folder with yellowed papers at his chest, and carefully placed it on his side of the desk. The Count leaned forward with anxious interest.
"I made sure your credit history to be here, Mr. Impaler," the vampire opened the first page to show personal data records, the authenticity of which Drac immediately became convinced. "It's carefully preserved and known to all banks. And you know that you have some overdue loan repayments before the 18th century... Unfortunately, we can't be completely sure about you. And considering the amount you're asking for..." Without finishing, he shook his head negatively.
"Tell me, are you so unsure that I will pay everything?" Drac crossed his arms in outrage and clenched his teeth. "I assure you, fifty years or even less will be enough for me to pay off all the money with interest!"
Breathing heavily from the strain of his voice, he kept his eyes on the bank consultant. It looked like Count Dracula was failing again. It was the third bank he applied to, and again he was denied. However, he still knew that the matter could be fixed if he somehow convinced the older vampire, who stood his ground.
The consultant, in turn, considered it necessary to help him somehow. He was aware of the death of the Count's wife last fall, and he perfectly understood and saw how it affected Dracula. He sat in front of him, stubborn and eager to get that damn loan, but tired and driven by desperation. His eyes glowed ice blue color, not angry, but sad.
Crickets chirped in the grass outside the window, an owl hooted loudly somewhere in the forest, having flown out to hunt, and from quite a distance the howling of wolves could be heard. Drac's hungry stomach also reminded him of the need to hunt. From an unpleasant feeling of emptiness, he lowered his arms below his chest and slightly tilted his head back, trying to distract himself. The thump of something hard and heavy on the surface of the table, judging by the sound, of glass, helped him to return to reality and the conversation. He straightened up. The credit consultant, who suddenly had a white cloth around his neck, uncorked a dark-glass bottle and poured the crimson liquid into two glasses. By the smell, Dracula identified deer blood.
"Drink this, Count," he smoothly pushed the glass towards his visitor. "You need to replenish your energy."
"Thank you... Do you have human blood?" Drac thanked him listlessly, took the glass and sipped carefully, savoring the taste.
"No way."
"Great," he took another sip. "I'm sick of their blood. Gross."
"I know this by myself," the older consumed his portion in one gulp. "Are you feeling better, now?"
"I suppose," Drac shrugged weakly. "So what else is my problem?"
"According to our data, you haven't had any stable income lately. And in general in your life..." The consultant sat back down in the armchair, looking down. "As part of our credit policy, we are wary of approving loans for those who, in fact, still have nothing to pay off."
"I will certainly have a source of great income when I get the money!" Dracula confidently objected. "It is for the sake of income that I ask you to give me a loan! And for the sake of my child's safety..."
"You want to build... a hotel??" The vampire clarified in surprise, arching an eyebrow.
"A hotel for monsters. It should be large and well fortified, hidden from the human world. I will be glad to see everyone there who wants to hide from the true evil, I will make a living by providing amenities to hotel guests for money, and my daughter will be safe and sound, as I promised her mother," the Count spoke out decisively and put his hand clenched into a fist on the table. "But all the vampires who hear this obviously think I'm wacky! In their opinion, I should just keep leading the Council! But it won't do me, my daughter, or even all of them any good! Do you think that way, too?!"
He had blurted out this speech in one breath and was now restoring, clutching the table with his hand and baring his fangs from the instinct of protection. Time was running out, and he was ashamed of himself and the position he was in. The arguments why they couldn't just give him a loan were really fair.
"Is there anyone who can vouch for you?" Without answering his question, the consultant asked a completely different one.
"I wasn't talking about who... What did you say?"
"Is there anyone who can vouch for you?" He repeated it word for word, cocking his head questioningly.
"And what would that mean?" Dracula listened incredulously.
"If you issue a cosign, it will be easier to get a loan, because your cosigners will also be responsible for paying off your debt."
"I see," he nodded. It sounded weird, but it was a small piece of hope. "Well, there are only my four friends... But I'm not sure..."
"Anyone else?" The vampire poured himself more blood and listened attentively.
"Probably my sister," Drac added uncertainly. "Her credit history is clean. But it's very doubtful that she will agree."
"What about your father?"
"Forget my father," Dracula's eyes darkened angrily. "He doesn't exist in my life anymore."
The mention of his father caused him a pang of resentment and rejection. If Dracula had tried to depend on him as little as possible before, now he had completely cut off all ties with him. Vlad did have money, and presumably even more than his son needed, but now Drac wouldn't ask for it for anything in the world.
"It's tragic that you have such a relationship with your father. But I see that doesn't stop you?" The loan expert emphasized the question, as if suggesting something, and smiled fleetingly from the corners of his lips. Drac looked closely at his face and thought that he had imagined it because of his exhaustion. Meanwhile, the man waved a candelabra on the table, lit all the candles on it, and the room around the table became brighter. Lights danced in the reflection in the window pane and in his pupils.
"Of course I won't stop," Dracula snorted, tilting his body to the left and throwing his right leg over his left. He gawked at him, prompting sarcastically. "Would you suggest I rob someone?"
The consultant pretended to move his eyes along the ceiling, putting his hands behind his back. "If you were capable of doing this, you would do it instead of going to the banks... But I could help as much as I can. This is not a favor, more like an advise, but keep in mind that this is already the best way for you..."
"And what? What is this?" Drac squared his shoulders and impatiently shook his leg. Even the corners of his cape collar were pointed again with curiosity. He still suspected some kind of trick, although getting what he wanted was a priority for him.
"You can probably get a loan approved in Serbia," the vampire pulled a map of Europe out of a drawer, rolled it out on the table and poked his claw somewhere on the territory of the said country. "There will be not very profitable and acceptable terms, interest rate and so on, but... It's not in your position to choose, Mr. Impaler."
"And I'm going to need cosigners, right?" The Count pondered the sentence with his mouth slightly open, not believing that he was hearing this.
"They will certainly be needed," the consultant smugly put his palms together, inwardly thanking all the dark forces for this conversation was nearing its end. "But I don't know other things, just as I can't promise that your aspirations will be crowned with success."
Drac couldn't remember if he'd been told anything else. His mind was occupied only with encouraging information: there was still a chance to get such a lot of money and it was waiting in Serbia. In a situation where he almost gave up and held on only for Mavis, this way was a salvation. The young vampire gazed at the map with glittering eyes, as if there were already bundles of dollar bills in front of him. Of course, it would be another time-consuming train ride to Belgrade, but hadn't he covered the distance to a Hungarian bank before that – the first in his search?
"Thank you..." he muttered in confusion, lowering his head but not losing his dignity. "Even if this bank was on the edge of the world, I would go. Thank you, you gave me hope like none of our kind did before. May I ask your name?"
"Norbert," the vampire imposingly extended his hand to shake, disposing of the last name. "I wish you all the best."
"I'll be glad if you ever decide to visit my hotel," Dracula unobtrusively imitated his tone and stood up, responding to a short cool handshake.
"And I will be glad if you never show up at this bank again, especially with a loan requirement..." Norbert went to the window and lit a cigarette, looking at the slowly brightening sky. "Goodbye, Dracula."
"I won't need a loan anymore," Drac confidently retorted, waving his cape, turned around and headed for the door. "Goodbye, Norbert."
The bat flew over the trees and rose into fluffy clouds. He left the lonely bank building in the middle of the forest with a conscience guaranteed to be calm for a while. That night, all he had to do was make sure that his daughter was well fed and healthy, try to get some food on the hunt and thank his friends for the invaluable help they gave every time he asked. Plans for a more distant future were still vague.