A bride for Dracula- a short story written by Berni Albrighton

 

“Renfield, I have news. I have found my future wife.”

“Tell me more.” 

“She’s young, 13, maybe 14. With high Irish cheekbones and an innocence that I will enjoy taking.”

“Your Father of Creation, Bram Stoker would be thrilled. An Irish Bride. Do you think  he would have known her family?”

 “Our moment together was fleeting, just a brief bite and a kiss. We did not discuss her family's heritage.”

“You deserve to find love again. The Countess has been dead for many years and you are lonely. I speak as a friend when I say you have let yourself go somewhat. Once your hair was like that of the Raven, black, shiny. Now, it looks drab, old, grey.”

“Really Renfield? Is it so bad?”

“Yes my dear Count. I am your eyes, I serve as the window to your soul. But your hair is easy to fix, in no time we will have you looking dark and mysterious as before. Your Irish Bride will be breathless when she lays eyes on you again.”

“You have reminded me. She had chewed Lavender, her breath smelt of it. For that I was rather grateful. I do worry whether I smell a little, well, blood like, a little pungent. What do you think?”

He stepped towards his servant Renfield and breathed over his face.

“Mm, the smell is not repulsive to me. It reminds me of Earthworms, actually more the after taste. Breathe on me again. Yes, definitely. If it were me, I would not object, but I imagine your young lady may have a different palette and therefore find the smell rather unpleasant.” 

 “What do you suggest Renfield?”

“I noticed a dental area in the store where I go for our shopping. I will look for a solution. I will also buy a colour to transform your hair. By the time we are finished you will look like a mere youngster.”

“There is the question of asking for her hand in marriage. I am a little out of touch. Do I go to the Father for permission?”

“That presents all sorts of problems. You can’t be out and about in daylight and night time suits your look so much better. I think this is a quick fly in and fly out.” 

“You’re right  Renfield. We will give ourselves a few days to tidy up, get my hair sorted and freshen up my breath, then I will fetch her.”

“This place will feel like home again with  a female touch. My Master. Here, let  me help you settle and then I will go and shop.” 

Renfield opened the lid to an elaborate coffin which sat in the middle of the room. Count Dracula removed his clothes and gracefully stepped in. 

“My eye mask please.” 

As he lay on his back, covered only by a silk sheet, Renfield carefully laid the eye mask across the pale tired face. 

“A lullaby my Master?”

“Thank you. Where would I be without you Renfield”