harsens_rob (harsens_rob) wrote in spanderverse,

Spanderverse: Dracula chapter 2

Disclaimer: Legal stuff, don't own characters, haven't made any money, this is for entertainment purposes, no profit earned, lawyers go away. –kisses-

POV: Shifts Perspective

Spoiler Alert: There are tidbits from past episodes. The Dracula mythos naturally plays a part. Also be warned that it will eventually have some Slash-components, I don't think it's real explicit.

Notes: Third story in the Spanderverse-universe, following “Spike”. Everything from the television series through the defeat of Adam also occurred as depicted, in the Spanderverse.

People’s thoughts are depicted in italics. You’ll find emphasis depicted with an underline.

For online script reference I want to thank twiztv for script transcripts. I need to thank Bram Stoker, of course, as well as romaniatourism.

I also feature Xander's folks, and I couldn't find their first names believe it or not: they've become Walter and Peggy Harris.



Spanderverse: Dracula

Ch 2/14: Plans and a Purpose


Within the Demeter, safely ensconced within his ornate resting place, the former hero of Walachia rested. He was only very vaguely aware of the ship tossing on the seas around him and wasn’t at all aware of the passage of time.


He seemed to be floating in a haze that he found disconcerting. He knew as long as he remained in this state, he was especially vulnerable to those who would seek to destroy him and all those like him. Those included his ‘traveling companions’. He’d heard them referred to as ‘the three sisters’ or ‘brides’. At one time, they’d actually been family. They had been favored by the Count of Walachia and he had awarded them with immortal existence at his side. Unfortunately, that had been before his ill-advised attempts to leave his beloved Romania behind him to start anew in London. It was before he’d lost his head and un-beating heart to a lovely young woman named Mina.


By the time that Dracula had managed to fake his death and throw off his pursuers: Afina, Madalina, and Elizabeta were all dust. It had taken him the next eighty years to find their replacements; those who he felt were luminous enough and graceful enough to grant his gift upon.


He, himself, would have been killed thanks to a lucky strike by that commoner, Harker, if it wasn’t for his magic. As it was, he’d had to spend the next eight months in a healing stupor to repair the damage fully thanks to the extreme blood loss. Even when he’d managed to heal fully, he’d nearly died again looking for blood. He’d been so weak and slow and ineffectual that he’d had to resort to cattle during that first week after his return to mobility.


It was a similar spell which kept him and the others from rapidly using up their blood supply and discorporating on the journey to the ‘New World’.  It wasn’t bad when he slept, but the times when he was like this… conscious, but unable to move and barely able to control his own thoughts… that he felt as if he had truly been buried alive.


On the positive side, he could relive his victories both as a human and as a vampire. He could never live down the secret shame of being so closely defeated by a rag-tag group of humans, however. He could still be incensed by the memories of being hunted all the way back to Castle Dracul. That those stupid, slow and soft humans had so nearly destroyed everything he’d built was the ultimate humiliation. With the worst being that he’d been unable to destroy them, himself. Instead, he’d had to use intermediaries!


In the old country, in his prime, he’d have had them all boiled alive. Except for the lovely Mina, of course, she was to be his newest bride. But not like the others… simply whimpering minions. He’d have made her mistress of the castle, under no man or beast, but him. Instead he’d lost Castle Dracul and nearly all of the gypsies who’d had attended to him for longer than he could recall. The one thing the peasants would not do was serve a master who they had no fear of and Seward, Van Helsing, the Harkers and that writer, Stoker, had robbed him of his power and mystique.


He’d been a broken man after that. Even after he’d regained much of his vampiric power, he’d wandered Europe as a vagabond. He’d fed on the lowliest of society, those that only a few months earlier he’d barely acknowledged the existence of. There had been more than one morning when he’d considered throwing himself to the sun to escape the torment he visited upon his own mind, recalling over and over how he’d failed and been defeated by five (FIVE!) people, one of them a woman! He, who had defended the sovereignty of Romania from an army of Turks, brought to ruin by his love for a mortal woman of common stock. It had only been due to a chance encounter with a beautiful and quite deadly man that had saved him from ending it all. A true creature of delicious darkness draped in the form of a mortal and when Dracula had embraced him, he thought he’d found his perfect mate after all. Unfortunately, Barlow soon turned out to be a liar and betrayer. He’d run out on Dracula as well, when he’d gotten the power he’d wanted. (1) The master vampire was left alone once again.


But no matter now, he thought, I persevered. I found Sabina and later Eveline. And with the addition of Lizuca, my ‘family’ was rebuilt.  And the bastards who brought me low did not escape me.


It had taken years for him to regain the resources, and to be honest, the sheer will to enact his vengeance.  The writer was the only one that he’d been unable to reach… an ordinary mortal death took the cretin before he could be made to suffer.  Dr. Abraham Van Helsing was killed during a ‘robbery gone wrong’ in an alleyway of Copenhagen. Of course, the would-be thieves were rather brutal. The poor doctor suffered nearly two dozen knife wounds, none of them immediately fatal, before he’d finally bled out.


Dracula smiled mentally. He wished he could feel the grin rise upon his features, but until he reached someplace called Sunnydale in the United States, he needed to remain under the immobility spell. For the first time in ages, he felt young and powerful. When he had claimed his new bride, they’d start an unholy war to end all wars against the demons that looked down on the vampires as half-breeds.  Maybe they would even reveal themselves to the world, and retake rule of Romania! She would be a far better match for him than that fool Mina would have ever been.


Ah, my little Mina. How sad your life had turned out, eh? Your husband and two small children killed in that terrible fire. Such a pity. And while staying in the home of Dr. Seward, to find his body swinging from the rafters like that, horror etched on his features. Why the news clippings I received were absolutely shameless in describing the grotesque death mask his face wore. It just broke your little mind, didn’t it dear? Oh, to die three years later in the barbarity of a mental sanitarium.


In his mind, Dracula pictured the former almost bride. Her hair would be mostly gone from her own nervous habit of yanking it out by the handfuls. She’d been babbling about her poor babies’ burnt remains in her last year of life, or so he’d been informed. It would have been beneath him to have actually visited her, himself, of course. Besides, by that time, he’d been in Vienna and much too busy to spare much of a thought to visiting further torments on the shattered woman.


Dracula turned his mental focus on the days ahead. He’d never actually thought of visiting the land of America. It was built by common stock for common stock, and as a royal, it was repugnant to think of all those spoiled peasants running around like they owned the world. Unfortunately, Destiny demanded sacrifice, so going to America it was.


Dracula planned and pondered his actions upon arrival. This series of events needed to be perfectly executed in order to lure the Slayer into his arms and bed. She would need to be impressed with his abilities and strength, and then flattered by his attentions to her. Finally, she would need to be seduced into giving herself over to him completely. Only after she begged him to take her with him, would he allow himself to embrace her. He hadn’t felt this sort of anticipation in over a century, and he didn’t want it to be over too soon. On the other hand, the sooner he could turn her, the sooner their new future as Lord and Lady could begin. Her skills, strength, and speed would make her a most efficient killer and her stamina would make her an… energetic… lover.


He wondered about who she was. As a Slayer, she would be powerful but also meek in the face of authority. He could only hope that the latter qualities largely survived the turning. That had been the problem with that cur, Barlow, and he didn’t want a repeat of that sort of betrayal. Of course, Dracula would be far more careful this time around. He thought if he slipped her a tranquility potion before the final, mortal bite she might awaken pre-disposed to being more able to be molded by him. On the other hand, he didn’t want her to be just a disposable minion. Though he adored his Trinity of Companionship, it didn’t stop them from being thoughtless and insipid minions. He wanted this bride, his Slayer-bride to be far, far more.


He knew the potential for darkness and the infliction of suffering would be a match for his own blood-drenched impulses. He’d felt that much from a world away. He couldn’t know what she’d done, but it had been unlike any magic he’d felt before. (2) Far beyond gypsy spell-casting, the magic he’d felt was primal, black as pitch and ancient. In that moment he’d had a vision of her – shorter than he’d think of a warrior, and blonde. Actually she’d looked sort of perky, which didn’t match his idea of a Slayer either. He’d known the moment he saw her in his vision however, that she was the one he’d been waiting for.


Dracula’s mind was growing drowsy again. He didn’t know how long he’d been semi-conscious this time around. Time didn’t have meaning while under the immobility spell. He was glad to put his new obsession aside for the moment, though. He let go of the anticipation and excitement he felt. Sending a quick impulse to the brides around him and feeling their instinctual response to his authority, he allowed himself to drift back into dreamless and thoughtless sleep.






End Ch 2


(1) This would be a shout out to Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot’s Mr. Barlow.

(2) This would be the unity spell in BTVS: Primeval. Specifically, the involvement of the Primal Slayer.



Tags: dracula

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