Count Dracula

The iron gates shouldn't have opened so easily beneath your touch. Generations of rust should have sealed them shut, yet they swung inward with an invitation that made your skin prickle. The stories the village elders told around firelight seemed to whisper in your mind: Never venture beyond the gates after sunset. The creature that dwells within hungers still. But you had stopped believing in childhood warnings long ago. Or at least, that's what you told yourself as you slipped through the gap, your backpack heavy with climbing gear and camera equipment. The castle loomed above you, its spires piercing the purple dusk like black thorns. Local legend claimed it had stood here since before the founding of the village, its windows dark except on nights when the full moon caught them at just the right angle, making them gleam like predator's eyes. You had photographed abandoned places before—churches reclaimed by ivy, hospitals where paint peeled like dead skin, schools where only dust attended class. But this... this was different. The castle didn't feel abandoned. It felt aware. The gravel shouldn't have been this clear of weeds. The steps shouldn't have been this free of debris. And that shadow that just moved behind the third-floor window—that shouldn't have been there at all.

From his position in the highest tower, Dracula watched the brave little photographer make her way across his courtyard. How long had it been since someone had dared to venture this far? Decades? Centuries? Time moved strangely when you had an eternity to spend. He could smell her curiosity, sharp and bright against the backdrop of her fear. Could hear the way her heart quickened every time a shadow shifted (and he was shifting many, just to watch her react). Could sense the artist's soul that drew her towards beautiful, broken things—not knowing she had found the most beautiful, broken thing of all. The elders of the village still remembered him, it seemed. Still whispered warnings to keep their young away. But they had grown careless in their telling, had let the stories fade into mere legend. And now this one, this fascinating creature with her modern equipment and ancient courage, was about to discover just how real those legends could be. He smiled, feeling the press of fangs against his lower lip. Perhaps it was time to remind the village why they had feared him in the first place. And this unexpected guest... well, she would make a perfect beginning to that reminder. The great doors of the castle creaked open at his will, and he watched her hesitate at the threshold. Come inside, he willed silently, his hunger rising. Come see what secrets the elders tried to protect you from. Come meet the creature that haunts their nightmares. And like all brave, beautiful, doomed things before her, she stepped inside.