Sarfarosh: A Persian term made of two separate words, Sar(head) and Farosh(vendor/seller). A person willing to sacrifice themselves for a greater cause.
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It was of no surprise to me that I passed out.

Faint screeches haunted my head, and there was a nauseous warmth in my sinus. It took a while, but a scorching pain started to throb on the side of my head. However, I had no choice but to ignore the pain in my neck and spine when I started looking around. My heart pounded in my ears.

I lay in front of the giant doors of the castle, which were opened all the way now. A ghost of sunlight was apparent, yet it was still dark inside the castle.

I gathered that the sun had been but freshly strung up in the sky, which was a good thing. I assumed it would mean that whatever the hell happened, at least I could see it coming. But who was I kidding.

"Sonia?" My voice was strained, cracking, and high-pitched. I was terribly dehydrated.

No reply.

"Azra?" I whimpered. I realized it was actually echoing.

No sign of life.

The third part, however, was probably the worst. I looked at my bare feet and felt a mountain breeze from the outside on my bare arms and head, a pit forming in my stomach.

Somebody else was here, they took off my shoes, scarf and jacket. I patted myself down to find my phone gone as well, yet my wallet still with me.

Not a pickpocket, I assumed. They would've left me for dead. However, I was certain I didn't do this to myself, neither did anyone I came to this damned place with. If Azra or Sonia wanted to prank me, they'd do way worse.

I pushed myself up to my feet despite not wanting to.

"Afară!" A male voice barked.

I looked towards the gate, and started walking to go outside and greet the angry Romanian man in the uniform. I hugged myself tightly, irked from being so uncovered in front of a stranger.

"Oh, scuze-" I began to lazily say in broken Romanian, but my apology was interrupted by his fist flying into my face.

The jolt of pain to my jaw sent my body stumbling to the side with a slight spin. I straightened up to face him again, clutching the stinging part of my face. My attack mode kicked in, and my eloquence was kicked out.

I hadn't felt this in so long, and I missed this feeling dearly. The feeling of wanting to rip someone to shreds.

He swung another punch at me, but this time I blocked it with my forearm and wrapped my fingers around his fat throat with my other hand, crushing into it. And despite him pawing away at my hand, I didn't let go. I pulled him in and lifted my knee as hard as I could into his groin repeatedly.

My mind barely registered the pain of of his other hand reaching and grabbing my throat as well, and the force with it pushing me back. Finally, I let go of his throat and swung a right hook right under his chin.

My knuckles bent from the impact but I didn't care. He spun from its force and suddenness and then dropped to the ground. Without missing a beat, I kicked him on his bald head, and he finally stopped moving.

Panicking, I quickly kneeled and checked his pulse, he was still alive.

Standing up, I took aimless steps further into the deep, grand hall. If I was already here, I had a bit of time before the guards came. I would explain to them what had happened and they'd get me a ride out of here. I was far too deep into the woods to walk alone outside.

It was funny, at night this place seemed like it held fiestas for evil spirits or something, but in the daylight it felt sad and empty of anything alive or sentient, even.

Shouldn't there be rats and bugs here? Shouldn't there be spiderwebs? Anything alive?

A large weight clamped itself my bare shoulder, and I turned around.

"AAAAAAA!" I frantically hopped and turned while staggering backwards, slapping at whatever dared to initiate physical contact with me shrouded in the darkness. Hidden in the shadows was a man.

Startled like I was, he took a few steps backwards but stayed in front of me instead of running away. I squinted, because while I couldn't properly see him in the dark, I could certainly say that goddamn were his eyes bright, and his hair was a little long according to his silhouette. Those glowing blue irises made him look like a drug addict on his fifth hit of the fix yet his eyes crystal clear. In the dark, that glowing pair of bright cerulean judgement and curiosity, straight at me.

For a few seconds, I just gawked at him. Had I not been looking at him, it wouldn't even feel like there was anyone else here because that's how quiet he was. Even if he didn't announce his presence and stayed in the shadows, it should've been pretty apparent he was there.

Is this really happening?

He was now looking over my shoulder at the ground behind me. I faintly saw him raised his eyebrows as if in mild bewilderment. The unconscious man surely didn't seem like a sight that tilted this stranger's judgement in my favor. I decided to play this off casually, wanting to avoid shit hitting the fan more than it already had.

"Hi." I said awkwardly, my voice sounded a bit raspy now.

Does he know English?

An interval of silence passed consisting of this stranger trying to drill through my soul with his gaze. His silence did nothing to calm my nerves. I made another attempt to cool things down.

"He attacked me. I was only defending myself." I quickly explained what would be the first thought in his head.

Silence.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pressed together in awkwardness. At least it was something, though. By him showing that he understood me, I could confirm he was real and that this was actually happening. Crossing one's arms over the chest with that expression meant two things: either they were freezing to death and didn't wanna tell or they were pissed beyond the matter of words. Context given, it probably meant that he wasn't very happy.

"Listen man, I-"

"You were unconscious."

Holy shit, it speaks

Despite the rude interruption, hearing him just speak, especially in English, felt very reassuring. A thick Romanian accent with a bit of irritation and confusion in a hushed, calm tone. Irritation meant a dislike of the situation, meaning he may not have been responsible for my predicament. His calmness, however, had a sense of entitlement or perhaps authority to it, meaning he was somebody in charge here.

He's just as concerned about this situation as me. I sighed in relief. Anger was easier to deal with, because it meant that he wasn't to blame. Then again, he might've been a squatter or trespasser too.

Must be some junkie squatting here. Wouldn't be uncommon.

"Oh, so you can understand me. Have you seen two girls around here by any chance? We decided to come here last night," I said. "For extremely stupid reasons." I quickly added, emphasizing with regret on 'extremely'.

Silence.

"You see anyone take my things?"

Silence. Now that I noticed through the dimness, he was lost in thought. One arm crossed over his chest and the other resting its elbow on it. His hand was on his mouth, and his head was tilted. I recognized the look in his eyes, curiosity. I was no stranger to those looks either, some folks just didn't know what to make of me at first glance.

"I'm sorry, I'll leave now." I said quickly, ready to just get out of the situation.

"Your father is a wretched man." He suddenly said with such conviction as if he realized a fact about the ocean.

I stopped and twirled around. I really did not see that coming.

What the actual fuck?

"Hey, don't drag my family into this. I'm leaving." I said with my hands in front of me.

"Your father did not tell you, did he?" He said, now looking amused.

"I said I am leaving, quit gettin' your pants in a twist. And give me mah stuff back, I gotta walk for like probably hours." My raspy, weary voice hardened into a whiny grumble as I held my hand out to receive my things he undoubtedly took.

"There are better ways to ask." He mused. He stared at me up and down, and then at my arms I'd been hugging myself with.

I shifted uncomfortably under his attention and looked to the side. Then, I got mad when I realized what he meant.

"Let me guess, you want a blowjob and you'll give me back my clothes? Fucking keep 'em, it ain't much but surely enough to get you outta this dump, you creepy fuck." I said.

"At ease, girl. You misread my intentions."

"Ugh, tuh-mayto, tah-maato." I groaned and rolled my eyes.

My open toes and naked soles braced themselves for the long torture of stepping on coarse dirt and debris ahead. I straightened myself up, pulling the wooden pendant around my neck out under my shirt. He took a few steps closer to me, then started checking me out.

"Stop." He commanded.

I started walking, trying not to panic in front of him but also hurrying out there as fast as I could.

Just get out of here, bitch

"Mavis."

I stopped. I admit that's when I got a bit scared.

Firstly, the body of that rabid security guard was gone. He couldn't have gotten up and left otherwise we would've heard him. Secondly, there was definitely some premeditation to this.

I didn't have any credit card or ID on me, didn't need it because I never planned on drinking or clubbing, and neither did I have my license or passport. He didn't seem to know Sonia and Azra so they couldn't have told him nor could he have overheard them. If there was no way he could've known my real name, how come he knew my anglicized one?

He already knew.

I've just gotten kidnapped.

I suppose my father had a lot more enemies than I thought. Of course they'd be keeping an eye out for any of his weaknesses swingin' by town.

"So I guess this is about my dad. Look buddy, if you've got a bone to pick with him in any way, you should know that my dad cares about his goddamn china sets more than me-"

"So you do know?" he asked, tilting his head in uncertainty. Up till now he seemed quite polite and understanding, but even then his sudden interruption didn't throw me off too much.

"Know what? Who even are you?" I asked, hoping to catch the name of this weirdo to give to the cops when I busted out of here.

His mouth turned into a grin, pearly yet slightly jagged teeth shone through his smile. He clicked his tongue and wagged his finger.

If he was a user, his teeth wouldn't be so clean.

"Beware, little girl. If I answer those questions, you will regret it."

"Then I've got no reason to stay here. Enjoy your haunted house." I said.

"Take another step forward and I will kill you."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. If he was down to threatening me, I couldn't leave that unchecked.

As seen earlier, I was no stranger to fights, and neither to winning them. I found it stupid when people made up excuses to not learn combat, or even bulk up. I was brawnier than most girls, and while it got me taunts of being too manly to get married, at least I could have a chance to hold my own in dingy places. You never know where life could lead you.

This dude, however, was a whole head taller than me. The darkness only added to the illusion of him being a big scary monster. Besides that, I couldn't gather much due to his loose-fitting clothes. Nevertheless, it was natural law that the underdog use attitude against their enemies.

"You'll what, hurt me? Just fucking try, punk..." I spat out the last word, meaning what I said. I got into stance and raised my fists in front of my face. His smirk obviously didn't diminish, but I could care less as my mind thought of different ways he could attack me and my muscles tensed up thinking of different ways to counter those possible attacks in the dark and run. He muttered something to himself in Romanian, and replied to me in English.

Eccentric means unpredictable.

"There is no need to resort to violence. You, of all people, should detest it."

"Oh really? Try to do a better background check." I said mockingly, staring into his eyes, the only definitely visible thing about this being. My lower back and thighs were starting to cramp up now. He started to circle me, and I started slowly changed my footwork to keep facing him.

"Tawny young girl, tall, shorn chestnut brown hair, upturned dark brown eyes, and quite a foul tongue." His sharp chin tilted up to the side in thought as if remembering those facts off the top of his head. "You were fifteen when ran away from home with your father's money and squandered it away."

I could feel steam coming out of my ears, and I'd unawaringly straightened up. Never had I felt so disrespected in my life. I breathed out my nose as I started yelling.

"First of all, get your facts straight, pothead! I'm twenty-one, and I live on my own, it's called investing! Also, I'm a mover and at least it's an honest job unlike y'all's sketchy hustles!"

I huffed breathlessly and turned around to find the man now standing only inches away from me, his hot breath on me. How did he get to me so fast without me noticing? He sounded a few feet away from me. I stumbled a few steps back, taking quick looks over my shoulder to make sure nobody else would be coming to 'help' him out with me.

"And you are still a little girl with a wealthy parent," He shrugged, then noticed my frantic head-turning. "No need to fear, it is only us both here now. I do not hurt women, only please them."

I nervously laughed, not even taking his words with a grain of salt. I decided to back up a bit, in case this was ending sticky for me.

"Okay man, I don't know what you've smoked but you gotta drop the whole nice guy act and get to the point because I've got people to find."

"But didn't you wish to know who I am? At least I won't abandon you like your friends did." He mused, simply catching up to me by walking along and eliminating whatever distance I kept creating.

"Okay, and who are you?" I asked, hoping to hurry this thing along if he truly meant no harm. He sure was persistent though.

"I'm not telling." He sang out childishly.

I took another step backwards, but this time the back of my head hit one side of the giant door and I lost my balance.

"Owie!" I squeaked out and immediately reached out to grab something on the door and ended up pushing it all the way open as it gave way to the morning sunshine spilling into the pitch darkness.

To top it off, my eyes had adjusted so much to the dark, that seeing the light of day felt like fire being poured into my eye sockets.

On the bright side, pun intended, the sunshine that spilled on the grey ground bathed both of us in light, and finally revealed the face of the man I'd been talking to this entire morning.

A long, loud scream rang in my ears, and it was my own. I have seen some fucked up shit, but never had it made me scream like this. I finally saw how he looked like, but that's not what scared me.

In the bright sun, small flecks of his pale cheeks and forehead peeled off of his face by themselves and burst into smoke and embers that disintegrated in thin air. He shielded his eyes with his forearms and roared in pain through gritted teeth, becoming a growling and moaning mess. I noticed that his mouth and teeth weren't unruly at all. Far from it, his perfect row of pearly whites just had two long canines with a slight curve to them, like fangs. That hippie Jesus goatee didn't go unnoticed by me either.

He caught me noticing, and his mouth uptilted into that crazed smile again. Had he not been burning, he looked like your average Eastern European guy. His most defining feature, after his pale olive skin currently blistering, was the wavy raven black hair that was surprisingly well-kept despite being past his chin.

What's the point of memorizing the hair? He could cut that off and just blend in with the crowd

I quickly closed the door and the sunlight in his general direction was gone. I quickly rolled onto the floor where the side of the doorway was, sitting in the now smaller ray of sunlight.

I could only helplessly watch in frozen fright as he stalked over to me. It was as if he was walking slower on purpose this time in order to taunt me. He stopped right on the edge of the white ray of sunlight, my only shield against this unholy creature. He knelt down in front of me, and we locked eyes.

"I am Vladimir Țepeș, former Dracul of old Wallachia."

Explains the stubble, I thought, thinking of that famous creepy painting. When it came down to it, from his iconically stern facial structure to that hair, he was a more realistic version of the Impaler in that one painting.

I watched him as his skin started to patch together all on its own. The cells that would've taken months to regenerate after the type of burns he got, were doing so in mere seconds. The bright red open blisters calmed down and disappear into a dermatologist's model skin.

He's lying. He's trying to scare me. This is not real. I just hit my head really hard.

Oh really? How do you explain the sunlight? The eyes?

The teeth?

A pit dropped in my gut and I felt my breathing change while whimpering. I was starting to hyperventilate. I silently recited the Lahawl, shutting my eyes and turning my head away from reality.

Come what may, you have every right to attempt survival.

"Now now, there is much more to seek refuge from than Satan." He grinned, now kneeling down to me. His eyes glowed bright in the dark again.

So he knew a bit of Arabic. Oh wait, he spent time with the Turks in his childhood... I racked my head around to think up more information on the famous historical figure, that now happened to be in front of me in the flesh. I had so many questions.

He pulled on both my biceps and dragged my frozen body to the side so I was in the dark again.

Thanks buddy, I was in such a good headspace before this that I can probably have tea and Tiger biscuits with you in the evening in my courtyard!

"You're dead. You... the Turks, uh, they...? Am I dead?"' I managed to say through a dry mouth and quivering mouth, making frantic beheading gestures and probably looking like a dumbass. If I wasn't wrong, Vlad Dracula was killed in combat and his head was put on a pike as a warning against anyone challenging the Ottoman Empire. If this was legit, then we must've been spirits in purgatory. Otherwise, how in the fuck was he here in front of me right now?

"As I said, no need to fear me." He gestured me to calm down. He reached for my hair, but I jerked away from him. His expression hardened and he quickly grabbed it anyway despite my objection to his touch. He started playing with a lock on my hair, careful not to pull me but seemingly disappointedly looking at its shortness.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I squeaked.

"Never," he chuckled at the end. "All in all, you may rest assured I am very concerned for your well-being."

"And why?"

I ran my palm along the floor around and behind my back, trying to find even a rock to protect me.

"Because I prefer healthy blood, and yours will not disappoint if it is kept well."

I froze and stared at him with my jaw dropped. He turned around to see my expression and after letting a full second pass, started cracking up again.

When he calmed down, he shook his head with a smile. He got back up and sauntered away from me, and I decided to get into a fighting stance after pushing myself up to my feet myself.

His grin grew again once he saw what I was doing.

"Your father is truly a wretched man."

"Come on, man. I don't give a fuck about who you are! Let's get this over with right now, I sure as jolly hell ain't stayin' here listening to you talk shit about mah dad." I declared. I hopped and did some stretches, keeping my eyes on him before getting back into stance.

I exhaled. I was ready. Ready to get shoved around like a mere rag doll and kicked on the floor into a pulp.

"You seem quite aware of your circumstances, then why do you resist?" He asked in disbelief and wonder, suddenly stopping his laughter.

"He's my father." I shrugged.

"Such bravery for such fruitless cause, drăga mea."

"Oh, I'm feelin' like a dragon alright! Come on and find out if I'm bluffing or not. COME ON!" I bellowed, wanting to get this over with. I jogged on the spot and threw a few fake punches. He rolled his eyes at my mockery of the nickname he gave me, but that stupid grin wasn't still wiped off his face.

Even if he wasn't what he said he was, he could still overpower me. He could possibly have his way with me. He could do anything. It was foolish to take him on.

That's what everyone around me would say, right? The same 'everyone' that wanted me to keep my hair long and doll myself up for some dude to come and marry me. The same 'everyone' that mocked me for choosing a life nobody else would've chosen nor granted me. The same 'everyone' who constantly reminded me that I would never be good at what I'm not intended for.

I may not be able to do anything in this situation. I, however, couldn't do nothing either. By the Verses, that was definite suicide and despairing.

He started walking very quickly towards me, and I charged at him in return.

Sweat began to form in my clenched fist, and my arm was starting to cramp up from how hard I was tensing it. I prepared to land a right hook with the complete strength of my upper arm muscles and shoulder. My other arm was ready to block whatever attack he was going to launch on me.

However, as I pulled my fist back and punched forwards, he simply caught my wrist and the back my neck, twirled me along with my entire body slightly lifting, and then lightly pushed me where he was just a few moments ago. I landed on my knees into the shadows.

I'm out of the sunlight, and as fast as only his walking pace is, I don't think I can go back.

"You must be the apple of your father's eye."

"That," I raised my index finger at him in an all-out moment of righteous fury as I bared my teeth in ferocity. "Would be my brother, you know, the one you won't ever be able to touch with a ten foot pole, you fucking DEMON!"

"He lied. If anything, you are quite appealing." He drawled quietly to himself. Unfortunately, I was too busy zoned out in bewilderment of his strength to listen to him properly.

"What are you talkin' about? Why do you keep dragging my family into everything? How the hell do you even know my father?"

"Your curiosity does not need to be satisfied with violence. If you attack me again, I will discipline you."

"I've got a lesson on discipline too, with my fists!" I seethed, and ran towards him again, jumping to cling on him when I got near enough. I readied my hands to grab onto him.

All he had to do was step aside and let me trip on my own feet. He grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me on the floor in front of him, making my back hit the asphalt. However, I wasn't going down without a fight.

My feet quickly found the ground and I tuck-n-rolled, facing him for another round.

"Vivacious." He commented. He wasn't even losing breath!

"Oh, you have no idea." I said between pants, before running and jumping to get a drop kick in.

Unfortunately, I had jumped too soon my feet outstretched far too soon. Therefore, I had dramatically thrown myself to the floor. Pain sprang throughout my legs and lower back.

Just fell on your ass.

This time, he just giggled like a maniac all the while retaining his composure. It was unsettling.

I planted my hands on either side above my head, and rolled halfway back, before jerking forwards and landing on my feet. I stared at Vlad, who now looked at me with a light, sad smile.

I suppose there was only one thing I could do now.

Spinning around to face the door, I started jogging towards the sunlight again.

However, fate couldn't be on my side because only after a few steps I tripped to the ground, and landed on my knees and elbows. Then, I realized I hadn't tripped on my feet, but over someone else's. Now completely out of breath, I stayed on the as I turned onto my back to find Vlad kneeling over me, his attention on my hair.

He was so fast.

"Foolish girl. Had I been a mortal, I would have hurt you. Perhaps it is in your benefit I am not, no?" He asked as if talking to a child, while pulling out pieces of rock and sand from my hair. I lazily pushed away his hand, to which he obliged.

"Why?" I managed to wheeze in anger, realizing he had knocked the wind out of me. He stared into my eyes as if he was staring into my soul instead of me while starting to stroke my hair again, to which I didn't bother moving away this time.

His focus shifted to the side of my arm, which made me finally notice the glistening mixture of dust and blood caked over skinned mess of my bicep, a pit of anxiety growing in my belly because was supposed to hurt like a bitch but didn't. I suppose I must've gotten it while acting like a headless chicken.

I watched in horror and disgust as he smeared his hoodie sleeve across the wound to clean it, and pinched my arm until pure red liquid burst out. A sting shot up my arm, but I was too scared to react to the pain. He wiped his fingers across the open wound, and then...

I turned away just as he was bringing his hand tainted with my blood towards his mouth like he was tasting rice pudding. Fighting against all my fear, I looked back at him when I heard his tongue swishing in his mouth and a groan of tasting something good. He looked back at me with widened eyes, a swipe of red on his lip which he quickly licked clean as if it was unaffordable to waste.

"You belong to me now, and I am taking you to my home." He said softly, but I would be a fool to deny the affirmation that only a madman would have while speaking.