I was walking through what could've been either a trench tunnel, or a catacomb passage. In my somewhat warped sanity, I identified it as the third hallway I'd turned. Seeing candlelit lanterns on the walls had become a reason to celebrate now, the sources of light got scarcer and scarcer the further I walked. At some points it wouldn't even matter if I walked with my eyes closed, the knowledge that there was light at the end and the sound of my own footsteps echoing and thundering were enough.

What's scarier than being alone in the dark?

Not being alone in the dark.

I listened close to the faint yet constant echoes of indistinguishable noise from God knows which direction, in the midst of my own breaths pounding in my ears. The darkness damned me even more. But deep down, a primal part of me took pleasure in the thrill of scaling the skyscrapers of life and death.

That didn't change the fact that my best case scenario for now was that everyone, or everything, that resided in this hellhole, must've unanimously come to a decision to stay away from the crazy bitch that their master brought home. The thought infuriated me because in a place full of demons, how was I still the freak?

I took small steps in the wooden clogs that had been laid out for me in the wardrobe, a clacking sound being made when my feet hit a peculiarly uneven leveling of the cobblestone floor. This place felt so surreal, like an old ruin held together by modern technology.

I came across a slightly spacier area, and the only reason I knew that was because a lone sconce hung on the wall across me, finally illuminating my field of vision.

You're in a house full of vampires! Who cares how you look?

I need fangs, I thought as I bared out my canines and hissed at the hallway mirror that looked like it was bought from the IKEA As-Is collection. I fixed my hair and bit my lip to make sure I didn't look as starving as I actually was.

Can vampires even see their own reflections?

I heard footsteps and two voices in the distance, and quickly hid behind a huge stone pillar.

Should I approach them? I asked myself as I inched towards the middle of the hallway.

No.

I wanted to keep hiding, despite knowing that they probably knew where I was. Friendly or not, the language barrier was a legitimate reason for anyone to not interact with me.

What if they didn't like me? What if I became vampire lunch on someone's whim? Panic boiled up in my chest.

It's dark, it's one misstep, and game over. I chuckled to myself.

Life was about missteps, and death was the end of making them in this plane of existence. My clothes, for instance. I didn't need to wear a grey blouse with a red sleeveless cape held by a rusty copper clip that looked like one could be poisoned just by touching it. I could've just worn the hundred layers of skirts and ties similar to the ones that the maidservants had bound me inside for my marriage court date. I'd read somewhere that most people in medieval times seldom acted the way they were depicted, and I wanted to be no exception to that. And who knew, kissing ass could be worse.

Man, was it cold for an afternoon indoors. Surely the fever I had waking up wouldn't have any bearing on this, neither did whatever the hell my skin had been in contact with the past two days. I scoffed at my helplessness.

Several foyers and corridors later, I found myself in a large hall that resembled a medieval dungeon with its steely candelit chandeliers being the only source of light in a windowless space, that somehow managed to be recognizable as formal dining room.

Dracula was at the far end of the long table clicking away on his laptop with rimless glasses hiding his strange eyes and long raven hair up in a manbun. The blue glow of the screen diminished any doubt in my head; I didn't travel back in time. I was open to all possibilities at the moment.

Or perhaps he brought a laptop from the future.

Do vampires have bad vision?

He squinted and blinked repeatedly as trying to determine what I was. Could he not see in the dark just like me?

"Sit." He commanded curtly. I didn't.

We both stared at each other for a solid two minutes. He was the first to look away. He yawned for a moment, then resumed his gawking.

"Did you have any questions?" He finally asked.

Oh, you have no idea.

"I forgot." I lied as I took a seat all the way across the table from him, only to have nowhere else to look at but him resume his typing. I stared hard, making sure he felt me glaring daggers at him. It was hard not to blink and I'm pretty sure my eyes started watering, but I didn't care.

Soon an exhausted chef came out of the kitchen, breaking my stare and making me examine him. He robotically said something along with the most unenthusiastic "Bon Appétit!" I'd ever heard, before retreating back into his dark steaming quarters.

A few minutes later, a young woman in a light blue dress with a white apron wheeled a trolley into the room, eyes darting between me and the trolley. I squinted at her through the dim lighting, mostly relying on the squeaking sounds of the tiny trolley wheels running on cobblestone. Her skin tone was warm, yet deathly pale.. We locked eyes, but I quickly looked away when I noticed the strange red gleam when the candlelight reflected off her doe-eyes currently holding scrutiny and scorn.

Vampire.

A pissed off vampire.

I looked at Vlad in fear, but he seemed preoccupied. I took a deep breath and chided myself to calm down.

What can she do? Spit in my food? Poison it? Smash the plate on my head? Throw hot water on my face?

What can she possibly do? Throw me against the ceiling? Punch my heart out my chest? Bite and rip into my throat and drink my blood classic style?

While examining her, my initial fear for my safety had morphed into morbid curiosity for the future.

She first stopped by Vlad to arrange his plate and cutlery. While Vlad wasn't looking at me, I could still see a change in the maid's expression in the dark, a chill ran down my spine. After taking her sweet time to set up his breakfast, she took the plate meant for me and started wheeling the trolley towards me. Only this time, her eyes stuck to the utensils and plates and she wore a blank expression.

I couldn't tell whether she was actually walking slowly on purpose or just another effect of me losing my mind. She didn't look a day older than 18, but seemed like she was possessed by an elderly housekeeper, not a streak of personality beyond that. No more criticism, anger, or anything remotely human. Anyone could figure out that this change had happened right after Vlad's mere glance at her.

It's only a matter of time before that would be you

With shaking hands and averted eyes, she placed a crispy golden slice of specialty bread on my plate and hastily ladled a scoop of zacusca on it, managing to get it on her hands. I didn't miss the fact that she made sure it didn't touch anything near the steaming bowl of meat stew. (Zacusca= vegetable stew served for breakfast in Eastern Europe)

She then placed a fine china teacup in front of me, and by 'placed', I mean 'dropped'. A tiny shard of porcelain broke off the rim and grazed my hand before shattering into nearly powder on the cold stone floor. The girl gasped and stepped back, staring at my hand as I had just begun to feel a slight sting on the side of my hand.

"Ow." I winced, watching the red line gradually brighten until a shiny red drop of blood began oozing out and gathering along the torn skin.

She reached for my hand, but I put it up in front of her to stop, gingerly gave her the remnants of the teacup to throw away with my other hand. It was bad luck to drink out of of chipped cup. She obeyed and placed a new cup in front of me and prepared to pour in the tea.

"Maria, ce-ai făcut, proastă! Afară!" He bellowed mere inches away from me. (Maria, what have you done, you fool! Out!)

His eyes were widened at her and fangs out in an ugly scowl, his jaw tensed to the point I was afraid it would be stuck that way.

Both me and Maria were so jostled by the sudden outburst that I instinctively outstretched my hand, gesturing him to calm down, while she unfortunately tilted the teapot spout downwards, drenching the table in boiling water.

"Owie, fuck!" I cursed and instinctively folded into myself to stop the hot sting of prepared tea on my thighs and hands and started sucking my hand where the cut was to relieve the pain. At least it was disinfected now.

It took Vlad to merely glance up at Maria for the scared girl to vanish in a rapid blur towards the exit before I could even blink. Sobs could be heard in the distance, making my heart churn.

When I got my senses together, I wistfully turned my attention to the elegant trolley knocked onto its side, its contents spilling out onto the floor and the tiny bronze wheels still spinning from the force of Maria's dash.

I wish she had dumped the plate over my head, or spat in it even. I didn't want to cause anyone else pain, except those who got me here in the first place.

"I apologize for this, draga mea." I jumped when I saw Vlad now kneeling beside me holding my hand with his head down. "I must warn you. There are mixed feelings about our union."

Union. I mentally gagged at the thought.

"You don't say..." I said coldly while trying to pull away when he kept staring at my hand in his.

I cleared my throat, making him blink a few time out of his trance. He let go and straightened himself up, walking back to his seat without a word.

"I warn you, you may face hostility here."

I bit back voicing my sarcastic remark out loud. Perhaps I should have let you kill my father, you demon.

His blatant gaslighting made my ire flare, it was meant to make me scared and lose sight of what was true. Satan had caused me to waver in life so many times this way. This was one of those times, and I recognized it.

"I'm often blamed for things outside my control." I managed to say, looking away in case my tears showed. It was hard enough controlling my voice, last thing I needed was my tears salting the tea.

"Is that so?"

Alright Dr. Lecter, I'll be your Clarice.

I hummed in accord as I cut a piece of my toast and shoved it in my mouth. It had been steaming and burned the roof my mouth but I didn't react.

"So I gather that you don't see my good intentions-"

"-jab tak koi aur na aajaye." I snorted humorlessly, not caring if he understood me or not. (Until somebody else comes along)

It would be stupid to assume I wasn't living on borrowed time. Before me was a being that had killed countless and was a symbol of lust, my blood boiled at the thought of someone else being here, so helpless and doomed, with nothing but his sweet-talking to slowly taking over the brain amidst this forced proximity, until he'd be done with them.

It would be a crime against humanity to let him live, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I didn't do anything about that if I could help it.

I didn't do anything.

The dream from this morning was pierced in my brain. I could still vividly picture how my face had become screwed-up like his. If I did what the world around me wanted me to, I'd end up just like him, and nothing would be more of a crushing defeat for my nafs than that. (Mind)

"What could I do..." I thought aloud. I picked up a nice sharp-looking luncheon knife and examining it and playing with it in my hands.

"Hm?" He asked, still staring into my eyes.

You heard me.

I stared blankly ahead. I pretended to look through him, visualizing the cobble wall behind him in my view, wondering if he actually hired someone and told them he wanted his place to look like a dungeon with extra antique tapestries. The trick worked as he became more and more aware of the change in my behavior.

"What could I do... to understand you."

"Mavish, we have been over thi-"

"Tsk, not your reasons. I know those, I'm not stupid. What I meant was your purpose. The two are mutually exclusive, by the way."

He stayed silent this time, not happy but willing to entertain my blabber.

"When one goes through such... premeditation to incapacitate someone who has nothing to offer, there's a motive bigger than them. You, however, are inches away from from ripping my lungs out whenever I open my mouth and putting my head on a pike whenever I open my mouth, meaning me being alive is important to you. You see, your majesty-"

"-Vlad."

"Vladimir," I corrected, making him frown and roll his eyes. "You see, I've been married once and I'm an engineer. I like to see how things work, to figure things out, and even create new functions."

He stared with a scrutinizing look as far as I could tell in the darkness, although it could be mistaken for boredom, but nothing took away from that stark animalistic gleam in them whenever they locked with mine. He wanted to tear me apart, but I couldn't tell whether that was physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

"I can't seem to understand one thing, no matter how much I think,"

It's hard to explain, but his silence was eerily familiar to me. It felt like the world had zeroed in on me and him and nothing else, and it didn't feel strange for some reason. It wasn't pleasant, nor horrible.

Brushing the feeling off, I continued. I held onto my righteous fury with both hands, or more specifically, the cold silvers of the bread knife and the dinner knife. I knew that I could be kissing his ass right now and the chances of him hurting me wouldn't decrease at all.

"What rabid dog bit you into making this deal, HUH!? WHAT ARE YOU GETTING FROM THIS?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" My voice turning harsh when I asked him, and stabbing the steak knife into the grain of the wooden surface.

Vlad gave a half smirk at the knife stabbed into the table. I waited intently for a comeback, but all I got was that stare- and grave silence.

"Okay, this has been great," I ditched my ominous low pitch, and managed a tight-lipped smile. "But can you let me go now?" I asked blatantly with panic cracking the steadiness of my voice. I was definitely in no place to command him but neither was I in a place to play along anymore. I felt like the universe was pushing me into this strange man who I'd only known by name my whole life and in person for a day.

He gave me a puzzled look.

"Where will you go?"

"Anywhere I want?" I shrugged.

"May I suggest someplace? This is your second time in this country after all."

"You probably already know, don't you?" I asked, not even bothering to hide my distress with the invasion of my privacy anymore.

"I do not, but I've been told you like to read. You should see my library in the east wing."

I looked up at him as a silent shockwave tore through my mind. I wasn't expecting him to actually say that.

What else does he know about me?

Wait... please God no.

Does he know about my gothic fiction stash? I've been clean since the start of the year!

I doubt his library has any of those books.

"Well, what about the other one?"

"What other one?" He asked.

"You know, the one in the west wing," He still looked confused, so I sat up straight and elaborated further. "You specifically mentioned the library in the east wing. So I'm assuming there's another in the west wing."

His casual expression hardened with seriousness. I wasn't blind to the change in his posture or the tension thickening as he processed my comment, it confused me. Given all the things to take offense over, he chose this. He needed to have thicker skin if he wanted to be with me.

Ooh, hit a nerve!

"The west side is restricted to women, and especially young curious ones." He winked, smirking at my darkening expression before taking a large bite of his baked meat and egg drizzled with a red sauce.

All I have is a bowl of porridge,  plant jam on toast and cold hardboiled eggs, I wistfully glanced down at my food.

"Why, is the men's room over there?" I joked before taking a bite out of my own food. He rolled his eyes and scoffed at my crass joke.

"Very well. If that assumption extinguishes your curiosity then yes, consider it that." He muttered cryptically.

"I can handle myself on my own, you know. I have for 2 years."

"Mmm." Vlad sarcastically agreed while drinking his coffee. He nodded. "The same way you took care of yourself last night?"

"You're not letting that go, are you? As I told you, my friends dared me to go to your old castle and I-"

I was interrupted by him sputtering his coffee out and bursting into an ugly coughing fit as he began choking on whatever he'd been eating. He punched his chest a few times to stop his fits of coughs, then took the whole pitcher of water in front of him and began chugging it down like a maniac between heaving pants.

"Dared?" Vlad managed to ask breathless bewilderment when he was done. I tried not to focus on the water that ran along the sides of his mouth and down his chin. I made a mental note to choose my words very carefully. "I had assumed you were either lying or joking earlier."

He was acting so refined just a few moments ago, what the hell happened?

"Uh, no yeah, it's kind of my thing. I'm a daredevil, I do whatever people dare me to do." I shrugged nonchalantly, appalled at his overreaction.

He processed this a few moments longer, staring into my eyes to look for any indication I was joking, but obviously I wasn't.

He started cackling in a high pitch, slamming his fist on the table and causing a crack to split through the woodgrain towards where I'd buried the knife in.

Was there something I said he took the wrong way?

"Bah! 2 years! Daredevil!" He managed to say between his fits of laughter.

"For all its worth, I- I did handle that security guard. Arthur, right? Socked him right down to dreamland!" I tried to talk over the annoying hyena sounds he was making. He finally calmed down but still had a hint of a smile.

"Alright, alright," he said, still holding back laughter. "You have lived independently and have had a healthy life experience to do so. And we've established your skills and capabilities long enough today," He gradually lost all humor in his tone. The way he switched emotions so fast threw me off, it was like waking up to a gradient of a twilight sky, unaware of whether it darkens or brightens. "Do you deny this?"

"No." I mumbled after I realized it wasn't a trick question. He'd been flattering me so I'd be comfortable around him, only for him to tear me down bit by bit. I knew where this was going.

"You agree that before we met, you were of sound mind and independent of any influence clouding your better judgment? You had no alcohol nor drugs in your system, despite the scent being on your clothes." He said slyly.

"That's what I'm saying." I said, I was slowly understanding where he was going with this, and I hated it.

"So now enlighten me, isteață, what mature adult forgets all their travel documents when traipsing through the wilderness of a foreign country without telling anyone in the middle of the night? You do not have any social media nor a vast digital footprint, but you have quite a bit of contacts in your phone. Do you have any idea how many must be notified of your death? How many official documents must be made because of your international activity?" He rasped angrily.

My death?

Painful alarms started ringing in my head, and my breath had caught in my throat as I listened on. At some point I must've began trembling as well.

"Who decides to go to a pub in the middle of the night to meet people they barely know? And finally, who treks in prohibited grounds on foot with no general direction of where they're going? And finally, what sane person living in the modern world proceeds with any said activities without a cellphone?!" He was yelling at this point.

"You took my phone!" I cried at him, finally finding a loophole in his threatening rant.

"I did not! You did not have one!" He replied just as loudly, but more calmly.

But I was talking to my dad in the car last night.

Sonia and Azra. I couldn't even fathom how horribly I would have to hurt them to satisfy the burning in my heart.

"I had my phone in the car- I asked you to give it back when we were in Poenari!" I whined.

"Do you call me a thief, drăga?" He became more grave with me.

"What? Uh- Huh?" I stuttered, sounding like a fool. "Well, you did take my clothes-!"

"I was compelled to remove your jacket because you were wrestling with it on the floor, writhing like a cat with yarn when I found you. You nearly strangled yourself with it," He snarled. "And as for your shoes, you flung them at me when you had your head inside your shirt to hide yourself, which by the way, quite an interesting choice to wear for the occasion."

I stayed silent. Although I was still positive that he was still talking out of his ass, I could faintly remember a certain knee jerk reaction- the horror movie jumpscare kind.

"How should I believe you?"

"You should not. Why are you even entertaining an conversation with me?" He sounded quite offended and irritated. I could tell it wasn't exactly from talking to me, but it was about something else I did.

We stayed silent for a while. I picked at the last remnants of food on my plate, swirling designs of gravy stains on the porcelain with my fork. It was completely silent, minus the light scratching and squealing of metal against ceramic.

Does he think I knew what I was getting into now?

I stopped and set my cutlery down on the plate. I cleared my throat to have him look up at me.

He's not blaming me, is he?

"I didn't know there were vamp-" I started bluntly, but he caught onto my train of thought.

"No draga, you were unaware dhampirs and strigoi existed, but could you not fathom human traffickers, predators, thieves, and murderers in such a remote area at night?" He burst out angrily. He scoffed, sudden rage flaring up out of the blue. "I will be honest with you, Mavis, because I do care about you despite our circumstances. Your denial of reality is quite concerning to me. You pretend you aren't afraid of me, of vampires, of anything in general, but are afraid of being afraid. Perhaps that is why you took that dare, did you not? To prove you aren't afraid, to honor this 'daredevil' title among your peers?"

Don't try therapy on me, kid.

I traced at the wavy paths of wood grains on the table with the back of my butter knife. I sighed, not knowing what to say at his breakdown.

"You care for your reputation before a stranger rather than your own life."

I stayed silent and looked at the split running between the table, seeing how far it went.

An ugly gash has torn the grain apart, yet the table's still intact.

I felt pathetic for letting Vlad have that effect on me, for letting myself be comforted by someone meant to kill me, like a lamb does by its butcher.

"So do you." I murmured softly, not sparing a glance at him.

"Excuse me?"

I looked up with a 'eureka' moment, but truly it was an opportunity to freak him out. I stood up from my chair and hurriedly paced towards him, and kneeled by the side of his chair while looking up at him with eyes widened with mania and despair.

"I got it! I got the reason why it was me! The reason I'm here, pawned over like a fucking heifer, is reputation."

He didn't seem to react to my obnoxiousness and simply looked at me to continue, turning to me with closing his laptop screen with his forearm and then leaning on it.

"Wanna know something funny? You talk about caring for me while not knowing me, I'll tell you exactly who I am. If my father had told me, just told me about you, I'd have plotted a hundred ways to kill you or proudly die trying." I rasped with hatred.

His eyes sparkled in amusement while examining me. Neither did he look inviting to my ravings, nor did it seem like he wanted me to stop.

"Instead he deceived you, pawned you over like a heifer. I live, your father lives powerful as ever, your brother lives in safety, and you live as well," He said. "You would rather have had bloodshed happen for your reputation instead of putting it aside to save your loved ones."

"As would you, but I doubt you've ever had to choose between the two, you fucking demon." I muttered.

He paused eating, and looked offended and bewildered. He gave a humorless chuckle, reeling in what I said before going back to eating.

I got up and started to leave, before his arm snatched me by the bicep and back in front of him, he turned over to me and grasped the back of my neck like a cat and pulled me closer to a him. My legs looked like they were pedaling a bike in my attempt to get away, but I gave up and slumped, hoping at least my body weight would have him drop me. Unfortunately, he took that as a sign of submission as he pulled me onto his lap. I began kicking and thrashing even more.

"Now, draga mea vulpine nebună," (My dear crazy fox)

Dickhead called me a dragon again.

My brain was on kill mode. That was it, no more wisecracking or sweet-talking. If he was going to manhandle me, I'll make sure he kills me.

I reached out and grabbed his coffee mug and splashed it on both of us. However, instead of burning hot bean water, we were both covered in stick dark red liquid. I gagged as soon as the smell hit, making me drop the mug and letting it shatter on the floor.

He scoffed, taking off his glasses, and wiping his face with the back of his hand, before turning his attention down to me. I froze when I felt his grip tightening on my arm and shoulder as he shifted me to sit properly, but all I could stare at was him grinding his teeth in a closed mouth in irritation.

Yup, this was it. He was probably going to kill me now, because he had given up trying to tame me. A man could only tolerate so much.

I immediately started trying to loosen his grip, but it was no use. I looked at the table again for probably a second before he turned my head to him. He probably didn't want me to get any more ideas from there.

Looking me over a few moments, before he set me to my feet, grabbed his laptop, and walked away without another word.