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“Have you killed the mutt yet?”
Dracula’s voice was sour and hopeful at the same time. He skulked around a large tree like a cat circling prey.
Then he looked back at Lorrimer, perhaps deciding he was the better prey.
Lorrimer shook his head. “His name is Ollie . And he is perfectly alive and rather well adjusted. Besides the whole werewolf thing.”
Dracula’s gaze darkened (as if it could get any darker).
“You must apologise for this betrayal, Lorrimer.”
Lorrimer sighed.
“Do not be so ridiculous. You do know that you’re not the only supernatural being in the world, don’t you, Dracula? That the entire world doesn’t revolve around yourself and your filthy desires?”
Dracula did not seem to know this. He looked quite scandalised by the idea, in fact.
“... but I want to kill him,” he said.
“Well you can’t. I forbid it.”
Lorrimer pulled a dead rabbit out his bag, (like a twisted version of a magician, he thought morbidly), and hung it dispassionately out to Dracula.
“Please take it. You look rotten.”
“Is that all you have?” Dracula sneered, but swiped the rabbit anyway.
His jaws opened and then snapped down again upon the carcass. He drank messily and greedily, and Lorrimer watched him with a detached but familiar nauseous feeling.
He shouldn’t be getting so used to watching Count Dracula suck the life out of dead animals. Just like he shouldn’t be getting used to Count Dracula at all, really.
Oh well. The forest was strange. It made him strange. So he kept telling himself.
An insane mantra.
He reached into his pocket and found a cigarette. Watching Dracula feed, as he lit up.
“Ollie has agreed to help us, by the way.”
Dracula snarled and continued to drain the poor rabbit.
Lorrimer was not put out. He continued to explain.
“He knows of the pack, but doesn’t walk with them, apparently. He’s agreed to take us to their dwelling, though. He thinks he knows where it is.”
Finally Dracula stopped messily feeding.
He spat; a thin line of blood shooting on the forest floor, before offering Lorrimer a narrowed and red eyed glare.
“So he is going to lead you straight into the heart of the pack. You are so much more stupid than you appear, Lorrimer.”
Lorrimer smiled. “I thought you’d say that. But I won’t be alone now, will I?”
Dracula dropped the drained rabbit on the ground, before wiping his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand.
His smile was scarlet and sarcastic. “You want me to join you in this deathtrap? You’re so arrogant , Lorrimer.”
Lorrimer didn’t flinch, as the vampire stepped closer to him.
“Well. You seem to find that appealing about me, Dracula,” he murmured.
Dracula’s reddened eyes were tinted with curiosity, as he looked into the mortal man’s own.
The stare-off was becoming old-hat between them. Like the cliche of two ancient rivals, dancing an unnecessary dance they both knew far too well now. Knowing exactly how it was going to end, no matter the tension that continued to creep and hum between them.
Lorrimer should have found it tiresome at this point, if not unsettling.
But the thing was he still enjoyed it.
Sometimes he liked to imagine one of them throwing the dance off in some way. Saying or doing something that would change everything.
Perhaps Dracula’s bloodied maw opening and devouring Lorrimer’s neck at long last.
Or Lorrimer remembering his common sense, and drawing out the cross in his pocket. Finally knowing the sounds Dracula would make when Lorrimer impaled him the proper way at last.
But it never happened.
Dracula’s mouth moved into a pout.
It had not happened again.
“ Fine ,” the vampire said, sullenly.
And then he was like a child, turning his annoyed glare back to the ground.
“I shall accompany you, Lorrimer. But only to watch you die foolishly and uselessly.”
Lorrimer smiled. “I’m very grateful.”
“You could show it,” Dracula said, still with that sullen pout.
His poise was always soundlessly threatening violence, even when he was sulking. Lorrimer knew this, because he could see the threads of unnatural muscle tensing around the vampire’s pale jaw. The unnatural blink of his eyes against starlight, as the bloodlusted red finally faded away, and then they were simply black pits again.
Even when Dracula resolved to wear the ‘mask’ of a person, Lorrimer could see straight through it.
He wasn’t sure if this was a skill that had been acquired naturally, with the nature of his work, or he simply knew Dracula far better.
It was likely a bit of both.
Dracula turned away, and Lorrimer was left to imagine his haughty face for a little while.
The forest offered a chilled breeze, and Lorrimer knew the sky was trying to break out into snow again. He folded his arms and braced against the chill, whilst Dracula stood still and unaffected by all of it.
“Will you see the mutt again?” the vampire asked at last.
“I suppose so. I need to arrange things, for the next full moon.”
The vampire turned around, a scowl carved into his pale features.
“You mustn’t.”
“Do not be so jealous-”
“It is a trap!” Dracula snarled. “Are you so naive?!”
Lorrimer laughed. The sound reached around the forest and echoed into the night, as if to remind him of his own recklessness, his own insanity.
He flicked away his cigarette and grinned at Dracula.
“I know it’s a trap, you silly creature.”
Dracula’s eyes widened. Surprise always looked quite strange on his face. As if he was a beast that was not designed to wear it.
Now it was Lorrimer’s turn to step closer. To close the already small gap between mortal and monster.
Dracula did not move, but his body was tenser, still lingering in that surprise. And now he looked confused too.
“Then why are you-”
“We must do reckless things sometimes, dear Count, mustn’t we?”
Then Lorrimer reached his hand out, daring to touch Dracula’s pale and twitching jaw.
Dracula did not move away, just as Lorrimer had guessed he wouldn’t.
The vampire’s gaze was suddenly placated. Another strange and perhaps forbidden look on his face.
Lorrimer had become used to that too. Far too used to it.
And it gave him great pleasure to see it, he could admit that. To see an abhorrent creature’s face surrender to such softness.
A secret that was addictive and dangerous, and existed only within this forest somehow.
The forest was like Lorrimer’s dangerous dream.
“You are foolish,” Dracula muttered, after a moment.
But his tone was soft too, matching his secret face.
His hand reached up, long fingers mirroring Lorrimer’s own, as he touched and stroked the mortal man’s cheek. A delicacy that Lorrimer had come to love too, as it happened.
Oh yes, Dracula was likely right. Lorrimer was foolish. Lorrimer was a fool.
Lorrimer still smiled though. “Maybe so. But you’ll still come with me anyway, won’t you?”
Dracula didn’t need to nod or say anything.
His breath was a cool sigh against Lorrimer’s cheek, as he leaned and then nuzzled against it. A rumbled and agreeable sound, as his arms moved around Lorrimer’s back. Embracing him.
A possessive hold, of course. It promised Lorrimer that Dracula could snap his bones if he wanted to.
Instead Lorrimer’s bones were warmed, though. Buffered against the chill of the winter night, and safer for it. Safer in Count Dracula’s envious hold.
Lorrimer heard himself chuckle, as he moved his own arms around Dracula’s back. Returning the strange embrace between them.
Dracula’s voice was sweet like honey, near Lorrimer’s ear.
“I shall make sure they all die, Lorrimer. I shall enjoy ripping all their throats out for you.”
It might as well have been a proclamation of love. The thrum in Lorrimer’s chest quickened, and he could not ignore it.
He should have been ashamed, perhaps. He should have worried about it.
Instead he smiled, and nuzzled the devoted beast back. Kissed him on the mouth.
Dracula’s lips were sweet, even when they tasted of copper.
His moans were even sweeter.
“You’re so good for me, Dracula,” Lorrimer told the beast.
Praised him.
Dracula’s wetted mouth moved into a grin, as he sunk down onto his knees.
Another sight that Lorrimer was becoming far too familiar with.
And addicted to.
He moaned and twisted his hands in Dracula’s hair for a while, and told him again;
“So good for me, Dracula…oh god…so good…so, so good …”
The night’s breeze cut another frosty embrace around them both.
Lorrimer didn’t feel it at all this time though.
Yes, Dracula was so so good for him.
Probably just another insane mantra.
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