Carole Gill's Book Blog: Free Read, 'MEMOIR'

Ever wonder about Dracula's love life? I did and was inspired to write this story which then inspired me to write The Fourth Bride (of Dracula).

Memoir

The journal beckoned him. Like the irresistible temptation of a lover’s touch, it coaxed him, teased him, lighting his passion with the promise of untold delights. He wondered if he dare read it. Why he had ever begun opening drawers, he had no idea it was impolite to the say the least but he had been too curious to resist.

“I give up.”

He was already under its spell and because he was, he dared to touch it. What a singularly beautiful thing it was. “I’ll have you.” Smiling, he ran his hand along the rich blood-red leather cover. There was no name on it, just the word in gold leaf “Memoir”.

Now, making certain that his chamber door was secure, he at last sat down. He was not rushing; it was a moment to savor. He closed his eyes and let the excitement rush over him. He found he felt thrilled in a sexual way for he hoped he would discover something which had not been intended for anyone to read but the diarist.

There was exhilaration for him sitting there, holding an object that might hold titillating secrets. Voyeur! At last he began to read.

I come from another time and place. From East of here where magic is the norm and superstition the custom. My father was a successful merchant well-known in our Province, my mother was long dead by the time he arranged a marriage for me. All was in order and I was sent for.

I was terribly afraid of life but more afraid of love. Still I was hopeful. But when I saw who my own father had chosen for me, I wept. You see he was old enough to be my father and then some and he was coarse in his ways despite being nobility. Yet this was the man I was betrothed to!

I refused. “What?He is acquainted with the Emperor! He calls him friend!How dare you refuse?”

Needless to say, the wedding took place at the appointed time, held in our city’s greatest Cathedral, there amongst the ﬂowers and crypts we were declared husband and wife. At last it was over and the kiss I did dread was given me.

“Not too long now, my petal.” A threat and a promise all rolled into one. His coach bore us to his home—my new home, a veritable castle of gleaming sandstone set upon lush landscaped acres, a mansion richly furnished. The servants greeted me quietly, some with pity in their eyes. “Come, bride! For we shall sup before–!”

Oh yes, before! The meaning was not lost on me. He guided me into the great hall. “Our wedding feast.” I looked to see a table brimming with dish upon dish of roasts and stews, of delicacies and rich desserts, each more opulently displayed than the other.

He urged me to eat and drink but mainly to drink. All the while he was leering at me and saying the rudest things; his breath hot, his words offensive in the extreme. The later it got, the more frightened I felt. At last it could be put off no longer. The great clocks chimed for the dreaded hour was at hand. I was to go with my new husband to our bed chamber. “Come my dear.” How tightly he held my arm, leading me up the stairs, not saying a word only smiling in his horrible way. Several maids hurried from the room. They had unpacked my trunks. “Goodnight!” His words rang with impatience. Now for the ﬁrst time I thought how like a pig he looked, fat and sweating. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? He really was a beast. “Now, it is ﬁnally time my dear!”

He lunged at me, his thick ﬁngers pulling at my clothes, tearing the delicate fabric from my frame till at last I stood naked before him, paralyzed like a bird in the gaze of a snake. I was not surprised to ﬁnd he had no regard for my virginity nor did he have any respect for my person.

He forced himself most cruelly upon me. I must have passed out for when I woke he was dressing as I pretended to sleep, but he knew I was awake. “I know you are up, just remember. What I have done is nothing compared to what I shall do, you are my wife. And as wives are chattel and nothing more, you are just another object that I own to be used for my pleasure and entertainment!”

I shuddered at the slam of the door and just lay there, feeling sad and tainted and broken. I wept for myself and for the hopelessness of my present situation fearing I would have to die by my own hand as I could not bear to remain with this monster. And so I ﬂed. I ran as far as I could and when my legs would carry me no more I collapsed on the ground. The sweet moistness of the forest called to me.

“A grave is not the worst thing; it can be your sanctuary, little one, a peaceful haven from all of your pain.” I smiled for the thought was comforting. “I shall sleep now for I cannot keep awake and if I slip beyond sleep I shall not mind.”

But I did not sleep long for I was soon awakened by the thunder of horses and the shouts of soldiers. My husband had found me. “You she devil! Do you think I will permit you to disgrace me or my ﬁne name?” I begged for mercy, but there was none and I was taken to be slaughtered, for slaughter it was. While his men held me, he did run me through with a sword. “Die you scheming bitch, you whore!” I obliged, passing from life into death in one agonizing pain-ﬁlled moment—but I did not sleep long in that dark, lonely place for I was soon awakened by a voice commanding me to open my eyes:

“Awake thee and walk once more upon the earth, for one so young shall not be left to rot!” It was then that I beheld his face, this handsome being. The face of one I would always love—the face I would adore forever-! And so–!

The young man gasped and stopped reading for he had heard a noise and turned. There standing behind him was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen. “You have been reading my journal,” she said.

But she didn’t say it in anger and he smiled, for she was smiling too. “I hope you don’t mind me coming here. I wanted to see you before my sisters, for they are truly like sisters.”

The young man smiled sheepishly but his smile soon faded when he beheld the beauty’s own smile growing ever wider. “Your teeth!”

She shook her head. “Do not fear handsome young man, as my teeth sink into your soft ﬂesh for I will show you worlds you cannot imagine—dreams you dare not dream, pleasure beyond any pleasure you have ever known or thought of.”

He gave himself up to her and just as her teeth began to sink into his ﬂesh, the door did open and Dracula’s two other brides came in, ﬂoating like mist. How they smiled and giggled—for they were eager to taste his blood. Then as they all converged upon Jonathan Harker they suddenly stopped when they felt their Master’s eyes upon them.

He, Dracula was standing in the doorway! “Forgive us, please. Do not be angry,” they begged. Harker watched as Dracula admonished them. Yet even as he did, Harker saw a fearful light in the Count’s eyes, a light that bespoke sensual love and sexual pleasure beyond comprehension. And Harker knew so much in that instant for he had glimpsed another world—the world of endless night where sin and corruption live but death does not. “Come,” Dracula said. “Come and share that which can be your fate.”

But Harker did hesitate whereupon the brides turned toward him, their eyes blazing and their mouths ready to taste that which ﬂowed through his veins—that which they coveted. But it was alright, for Harker knew and accepted his fate and at last lay back to await their touch and their teeth and the sweet pain that would soon disappear.

from 'Memoir'

copyright 2011 MEMOIR

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