Page 41 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

As dawn approached, Jonathan again found himself drawn to Dracula’s chambers. He told himself he would demand answers, to confront the Count about the fate of the others. But as he raised his hand to knock, he hesitated. Did he really have the right? Dracula was going to send him back to London. But it was Jonathan who forced the Count to allow him to remain. What right did he have to demand he spill all of his secrets. Whatever happened to the others. Dracula was trying to prevent from happening to him. Perhaps...he should follow Vigo’s advice.

On the other side of the door, unbeknownst to Jonathan, Dracula stood frozen, his keen senses having detected the young man’s approach. His hand hovered over the door handle, every fiber of his being yearning to open it, to pull Jonathan into his arms. Maybe this time it would be different?

But the memory of past heartbreaks, of the terrible price of vulnerability, held him back. He couldn’t risk it, couldn’t bear to see Jonathan’s admiration turn to horror and revulsion when he learned the full truth.

And so they stood, separated by mere inches of wood yet divided by centuries of secrets and fears.

Jonathan turned away from the door, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Inside the room, Dracula sank into his chair, his head in his hands.

The castle settled into its daytime silence, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Another day would pass, another night would come, and still, the dance of love and doubt would continue, each step bringing them closer even as it threatened to tear them apart.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The forbidden East Wing of Castle Dracula loomed before Jonathan like a maw of darkness, ready to swallow him whole. His heart thundered in his chest, and each beat a war drum urging him forward, even as his instincts screamed for retreat. The ornate door handle, cold and unyielding beneath his trembling fingers, seemed to pulse with otherworldly energy.

With a deep breath, Jonathan steeled himself and pushed the door open. It swung inward with an ominous creak, revealing a corridor shrouded in shadows. The air that rushed out was stale and tinged with a sickly-sweet odor that made his stomach churn. ‘How can anyone live like this?’ he thought, swallowing hard before taking his first tentative steps into the forbiddenwing. The floorboards groaned beneath his feet, each sound amplified in the oppressive silence. Cobwebs clung to every surface, their silken strands glistening in the dim light that filtered through grimy windows.

As he ventured deeper, the corridor seemed to twist and contort, defying the laws of physics. Portraits lined the walls, their subjects’ eyes following his progress with malevolent intent. Jonathan could have sworn he saw one blink, its lips curling into a cruel smirk.

The air grew thicker and heavier with each step. Jonathan’s heightened senses, a gift—or perhaps a curse—from Dracula’s blood, picked up on subtle sounds. Scratching behind the walls. Whispers just beyond the range of comprehension. And something else... a rhythmic thumping that grew louder as he progressed.

Finally, the corridor opened into a vast chamber. Jonathan’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene before him. The room was circular, its high ceiling lost in darkness. But it was the occupants that truly chilled him to his core.

Coffins lined the walls, each containing a figure that bore an uncanny resemblance to himself—to Béla. But these were no mere men. Their faces were twisted in perpetual agony, skin pallid and stretched tight over protruding bones. Eyes, once perhaps as blue as Jonathan’s own, now glowed with an unholy red light.

As Jonathan’s presence registered, the creatures stirred. They pushed open their coffin lids and emerged, approaching himwith slow, menacing steps. Their mouths opened in silent screams, revealing rows of needle-like teeth.

“Welcome, brother,” a raspy voice called out, sending shivers down Jonathan’s spine. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Jonathan spun around, coming face to face with one of the creatures. It stood a mere feet away, its emaciated body swaying slightly as if caught in an unfelt breeze. Despite its horrific appearance, Jonathan could see traces of the handsome man it once was—the man who, like him, had caught Dracula’s eye.

“What... what are you?” Jonathan managed to choke out.

The creature’s face split into a gruesome parody of a smile. “We are what you will become,” it hissed. “Dracula’s failed experiments. His discarded loves.”

Another voice chimed in. “It is only his past lover he seeks. He’ll do the same to you, pretty one. Turn you, twist you, lock you away.” It chuckled wickedly.

“No,” Jonathan shook his head in denial. “He wouldn’t—“

“Wouldn’t he?” the other creature interrupted, stepping closer. “Look at us. We were all you once. Full of hope, of love. And see what his ‘love’ has wrought.”

“The ones who did not make the cut were fucked, drained, and discarded.”

“Oh, to be a rejected one.” Another giggled like a child.

As if on cue, the creatures began to wail, a mash of anguish threatening to drive Jonathan to his knees. He clapped his hands over his ears, but the sound penetrated his soul.

“You can’t trust him,” the creature before him continued, its voice cutting through the din. “Dracula corrupts everything he touches. He’ll promise you eternity, but deliver only suffering.”

Jonathan’s mind reeled. Could this truly be his fate? To end up twisted and caged in this place, a monument to Dracula’s obsession? He thought of the tender moments they’d shared, the passion that had ignited between them. Had it all been a lie?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the creature inching closer until it was too late. With inhuman speed, it lunged forward, its claws raking across Jonathan’s chest. He cried out in pain and surprise, stumbling backward.

“Stay with us,” the creature crooned, its voice a mockery of tenderness. “Be our brother in misery. It’s better than the false hope Dracula offers.”

Panic surged through Jonathan as he realized the danger he was in. He turned to flee, but found his path blocked by more of the creatures. They had now surrounded him, their eyes gleaming with hunger and madness.

The vampyres began unbuttoning Jonathan’s clothes, their fingers cold and deliberate against his skin. They wanted tohave sex with him, to play with him as if he were their toy. They guided Jonathan to the floor, their movements fluid and predatory. They all wanted to touch him, taste him. One of the creatures leaned in, its breath chill against Jonathan’s ear, and whispered, “Playing with us will be way more fun than playing with Dracula.”

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