Meeting the Neighbours
During the climb, Robin resisted the urge to look down, focusing completely on shimmying his way up the rope in spite of himself. But, having become stationary, pushing back against the terrible, TERRIBLE idea felt different. More difficult. The lack of engagement gave his curiosity time to mount an assault on his more pragmatic emotions, winning out over his common sense.
Not watching the ongoing conversation between the, presumed, siblings in fear of being seen, he turns his head to face downwards, eyes moving towards the ground. Paling instantly at the sight before him, Robin becomes both very aware of the height at which he was suspended, and very conscious of his tenuous grip on the windows ledge. It's at this point that he decides he's heard enough and, unwilling to test his luck more than he already has, reveals himself. "Uh hey! Here's a suggestion, help me up!"
""HUH?!!"" Vlad and Ingrid exclaim, surprised that the would-be intruder had already finished his climb, having been too engrossed in their argument. Both stand still, surprised to have been caught mid discussion, and by the topic of said discussion at that. ""...""
"Ok, SERIOUSLY! Please help me up!!" Robin yells with urgency, his fear now far outweighing his nosiness.
At this, Vlad is jolted out of his state of stunned stupor, and, now conscious of the boy hanging from his window, bolts to help him. Crossing the, admittedly small, distance in a matter of moments, Vlad grabs for the boys arms, latching onto him as quickly as possible. Grasping the forearms of the stranger, Vlad shouts in reassurance as he begins to pull him up, "I've got you!"
"Thanks." Robin commends, grateful for the assistance he's being given in not becoming a person pancake.
Vlad, curious as to the strangers identity, blurts out unthinkingly. "Who are you?"
"What a good time to have a discussion." Robin jibes sarcastically, voice strained as he was clearly much more focused on not falling than answering questions.
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Meanwhile, down the hill at the Brannagh household, preparations are continuing to be made for the family camping expedition. Graham Brannagh, having finished storing all the necessary supplies in the trunk of the campervan, has moved onto tying the camping gear to the top of the vehicle, contained within a large, bright orange bag. Behind the man, a young girl of nine or ten stands, observing as he ties the cargo securely to the van.
*Insert image of Chloe Brannagh here*
Walking out of the house, Elizabeth Brannagh lifts her head to look into the sky, taking note of the rising pillar of smoke coming from Stokely castle. "Looks like someone's moved into the castle."
*Insert image of Elizabeth Brannagh here*
"You'd have to be pretty weird to want to live there." Mr. Brannagh responds, turning his head slightly towards her in acknowledgement, before turning it back to the van and resuming his knot tying.
Following Mrs. Brannagh, a pair of teenage boys jog out of the house. The two both have similar builds and features, and appear to be close in age. This would lead some to deduce that they are twins.
*Insert image of Ian and Paul Brannagh here*
Ian, a few steps ahead of his brother, informs their mother of the current predicament. "Mom, we can't find Robin anywhere."
Paul jumps into the conversation, an expression of befuddlement upon his face. "Where could the weirdo have got to?"
In response, Elizabeth looks to the castle on the hill, being mimicked by everyone else as they follow her line of sight, before she turns to her husband, an imploring look contained within her eyes.
"*Sigh* Okay, I'll go get him." Mr. Brannagh exhales, already tired of his sons antics.
Here, the Brannagh family head turns from the car he was just packing, moves out of the driveway, and begins his unenthusiastic journey up the hill. As he makes his way towards the new Dracula residence, though he is unaware of said fact, he inwardly complains about the continued strange behaviour of his youngest son, black sheep that he is.
....
Having made his way to the castle doors, he takes a moment to note the sign stuck to the solid oak.
'BLOOD DONORS WANTED'.
Moving past the strangeness of the message pinned to the door, Mr. Brannagh persists in his search for his son, knocking at the castle entrance. Briefly turning from the doors, expecting it would take some time for anyone to answer it given how big the castle is, Mr. Brannagh takes in the view of Stokely from the hill. While not nearly as good as the view from the tower, the sight is still one to be appreciated, though Mr. Brannagh doesn't get much time to do so.
*SSSCRRRCCHHH*
Alerted by the sound of the door opening, Mr. Brannagh turns away from the view of Stokely, moving to face the castle entryway.
"You rang?" Renfield asks from the doorway, his disgusting misshapen teeth on display as he smiles. An attempt at being warm and welcoming gone horribly wrong no doubt.
Taken aback by the strange appearance of the person(?) who opened the door, Mr. Brannagh takes a moment to assess their most odd apparel.
Renfield, hideous as he is, also happens to have a disturbing taste in clothing, being dressed disgusting head to fungal infested toe in a nurses uniform, at least a century or two old. Raggedy, Filthy, and strangely well fitting, the uniform adds even further to the already palpable discomfort of one Graham Brannagh.
Having swiftly regained his wits from the shock of the strange scene before him, an achievement quite impressive for an average man such as he, Mr. Brannagh once more begins searching for his son. "Sorry to bother you, bu-"
"Have you come to donate blood?" Renfield interrupts, impatient and enthusiastic to fulfill his master's command.
Mr. Brannagh, confused even more thoroughly than before, squints his eyes in befuddlement. "What?"
Pointing to his left, Renfield indicates the writing hung upon the door as he reiterates. "The sign, have you come to donate blood?"
Hoping to get back on track, Mr. Brannagh makes an attempt to direct the conversation. "No, look-"
"It's for a good cause." And is immediately cut off by the voice of Renfield.
While irritated by the repeated interruptions, Mr. Brannaghs curiosity gets the better of him for a split moment. "What cause?"
"Lunch." Renfield answers unthinkingly. Though, he does notice the problem with his reply a second or two later. Taking a few moments to think through what he just said, he reaches the conclusion that it wasn't very smart to say that they needed blood for lunch. After all, they were supposed to be in hiding.
"No, I'm here because-, Did you just say lunch?" Mr. Brannagh asks, befuddlement and, to a lesser extent, worry discernable in his tone.
"Uhh, no, I got a *Cough!* got a cough." Renfield responds, hoping to cover up his mistake, lest his master suffer any consequences due to his blunder, and punish him in response.
"WHO IS IT!?" A voice yells, echoing out from further into the darkness of the castle.
Renfield, enthusiasm sufficiently drained due to the lack of blood donation going on, relays to his master the facts as he sees them. "Some local peasant, master."
"I beg your pardon?!" Mr. Brannagh exclaims, perturbed by the unexpected derision from the, to be quite frank, unattractive and filthy man.
The silhouette of the Count appears in the shadows behind Renfield, coming into view of Mr. Brannagh through the gap left between Renfield and the now open castle door. The Count moves into the indirect light of the day as he addresses the 'peasant', speaking in a low, enticing drawl. "Well done Renfield. So nice to see you peasant, do come in." As he tells the man, Graham Brannagh, to come in, the Counts eyes glow an eerie, captivating yellow as he beckons the man forward, making a 'come here' motion with his pointer finger. The yellow of his eyes similar to that of a burning flame, like a candle, or a fireplace, but lacking any of the warmth or comfort provided by either. His eyes in that moment contained only the pain and potential for destruction that fire does, no symapthy, or compassion, or mercy.
Though, it's not like Mr.Brannagh could discern this. While the suburban family man firmly believes he has a good sense for people, he was much out of his depth when encountering a figure such as Count Dracula. Better, wiser, and older men alike have fallen prey to the fangs of the Count, and he'd never miss an opportunity to tell you so.
Mr. Brannagh, while sufficiently creeped out, accepts what he perceives as an invitation, not wanting to be rude. "Ok, but first, I'm not a peasant.... and can you stop staring at me..... like that?" Though he'd starts off strong, almost firm even, Mr. Brannaghs words become slower, more unsure and spaced out as he continues talking, as if distracted by something, or only half paying attention.
"Like what?" The Count asks, well aware of what the man means. A smirk, having been on his face for the entirety of the conversation, curves further upwards the slightest amount as he eyes the approaching dinner, already succumbing to the hypnotic stare being directed his way.
Renfield, unaware as to the hypnotic gaze of his master, chimes back into the conversation, voice of irritation and disappointment. "Are you sure you haven't come to donate blood?"
Slowly, Mr. Brannagh responds, his eyes clouded, his mind currently elsewhere ,and his consciousness turning hazier by the second. ".... Yes."
Irritated by such a waste of time, Renfield resolves to drive off the annoying village peasant. "Oh, just flirting with us, were you? well, sling your rock!" Saying this, he begins to slam the door, not noticing the expression of anger and protest that blooms on his master's face as he continues to close the castle entryway.
*SLAM!!!*
Turning around, Renfield is grabbed by the shoulders and smashed up against the now closed doors. Confused and in pain, the lowly servant looks to his master, only to be met by a face of anger and wrath.
"Sling your rock?! That was a ten pint delivery!!" The Count growls, his voice, while intense, more of a low, terrifying hiss than a scream, yell, or shout.
"But he, he said he didn't want to give blood!" Renfield excuses as he's dragged by the shoulders of his clothes from the door, being let go of just a few feet away.
The Count flits behind the deplorable insect, moving faster than the serf can comprehend, before latching onto his shoulders again and twisting him, bringing them face to disgusting face once more. "They never want to GIVE blood, that's why I've got these *NGGRRAAAAHGH!*" Baring his fangs at Renfield, his eyes light up in a vibrant blood red, his rage and frustration and HUNGER on display.
Renfield whimpers pathetically in abject terror.
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Graham Brannagh, dazed, confused, and strangely tired, stares at the closed castle doors blankly for a few moments, before turning around slowly, in a sort of shambling motion. Overwhelmed by a deep, unnatural exhaustion, Mr. Brannagh stumbles forwards a few steps, his only thoughts being, ' I .... should take a nap. Just a small one. I'm no use to anyone when I'm tired,.... Elizabeth knows that. Yes, a small nap.... yes.'
Sluggishly, the unwitting victim of vampiric hypnotism wanders listlessly about the castle grounds, looking around for a suitable place to take a nap, completely unaware of the MASSIVE bullet he just dodged. On his behalf, thank god for Renfield.
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Chapter 5: 1949 words, (not including this bit)
Sooo.... hey! Sorry I took such a long break, but sh*ts been pretty f*cking hectic lately. What with school, projects, my new part-time job, family stuff, and trying to fit in some time to enjoy myself and relax, I haven't been able to upload nearly as quickly as I wanted to. But on the bright side, stuffs cooled down a bit (I think?) And hopefully I'll be able to get back to properly posting stuff.
This chapter took so long because I just couldn't find the time, and writing anything was a herculean challenge due to how we novel have made it so I can't go back and change shit. Like, everytime I'm writing something and I notice a mistake, or I want to change a word out for something more suitable, or I want to restructure a sentence so it flows more smoothly, I have to delete everything I've written after that point to get back to it, because for some F*CKING REASON, every time I try to go back and edit something, I'm always taken back to the last character of the last sentence. It's a pain.
Anyway! I'm back, hopefully for a good amount of time, and I will hopefully have some sort of cohesive schedule for posting! If you enjoy the chapter, or have any constructive feedback, please comment! And if you like the novel/comic/FF, please support with stones so others can see! Have a beautiful day, or night depending on when you are reading this, and in what timezone. Bbyyyeee!!!