Caught in the vampire's clutches

The clatter of hooves on the bridge echoed hollowly, as if there were nothing beneath the stones but a bottomless abyss where a thick, impenetrable fog had swallowed the earth. Only a cold void lay below. The wooden wheels of the cart creaked dully on the damp road, as if complaining with every step of the way. The horses walked slowly, as if reluctantly; their breath escaped in heavy clouds of steam, and in this silence every sound seemed too loud, too... vivid. Ahead, through the murky haze, the silhouette of the castle gradually came into view. It did not call – it waited.

The reluctance to continue the journey was evident in every movement of the coachman’s hands, in every creak of the wagon’s wood. His fingers, white with tension, dug into the old leather of the reins, as if trying to hold back time itself.

But such was the agreement. An order that the inhabitants of the nearby villages could not disobey. They would not dare. The fear of what awaited at the end of the road was great, but the fear of breaking their word was even older and deeper.

Once a month, they were required to bring a person to the castle gates. Not some random vagrant, emaciated from hunger and cheap booze, but a sturdy, vibrant soul, as robust as a well-fed bull – with pure blood, untouched by smoke or the bitterness of wine. Such a person wasn’t easy to find. They spent weeks choosing, arguing over trifles and throwing around considerable sums of money, just to keep a family member at home. But as the deadline approached – everything changed.

There was no room for caution or choice. They were dragged from their homes in the middle of the night, from their warm beds, from the arms of those who didn’t even have time to scream. People were shoved into carts, not allowed to look back, not allowed to know where they were being taken. And only when the wheels began to creak on the stone did it become clear: there was no turning back.

Ajax raised his head, peering through the fogged-up window as if the scene beyond might change if he just looked long enough. But outside, everything remained the same – that damned fog, thick and motionless, as if the road itself were stuck in time. The lingering tremors of the fear he had experienced still coursed through his body, weighing heavily on his knees. The thought of his own death no longer frightened him as much as it should have. The ropes dug into his wrists, tight and merciless. He could already feel the skin beneath them turning dark with bruises.

The idea of such an end to his life felt too distant, too foreign, as if it weren’t really about him. What was far more terrifying was what he was leaving behind. Ajax wasn’t ready to part with his family. Not today. Not like this. Not ever, for that matter. Their faces were still before his eyes. His younger brother’s eyes, full of tears and confusion. His sister’s scream, cut short by despair. His mother, reaching out to him as if she could hold him back. His father and brother, desperately trying to wrest him from the strangers’ grasp, but powerless against the guards’ cold resolve. These images did not fade or disappear; they seemed to be seared into his memory, remaining there now forever.

But the worst part was the uncertainty. Ajax didn’t know what lay ahead. He’d heard whispers – that those taken to the castle never returned. Never. And he had almost accepted it. Almost. But almost doesn’t count. Ajax wasn’t going to just wait for the end. Whatever it was that dwelled behind those gates – a human, a beast… or something far worse… It didn’t yet know who was being brought to it.

The cart stopped abruptly, with a dull jolt that Ajax couldn’t brace for, and his shoulder slammed against the wooden side. The next second, the door swung open. Too abruptly, too easily, as if they’d been waiting to open it for a long time. The cold rushed in along with the fog. Soberizing.

There was no point in resisting. So when rough hands grabbed him and dragged him outside, he merely clenched his teeth and shot a contemptuous glance at the guards. They shoved him forward until a firm grip on his shoulder stopped him in front of the massive doors.

And without warning, they shoved him inside with a sharp movement, as if he were trash they needed to get rid of as quickly as possible.

Inside, it was empty. Not a sound. Not a movement.

Ajax swallowed quietly, glancing around the spacious halls where shadows fell in uneven patches. He took a cautious step forward, then another... Slowly, deliberately, as if any unnecessary movement might awaken something slumbering within these walls. The unknown weighed heavily on him, squeezing his chest from within. There was not a whisper here, not the echo of his own footsteps, not even the whistle of a draft. Complete isolation. The silence seemed unreal, strained, as if the young man had simply lost his hearing.

"Why is he here?" the thought flashed through his mind, but no answer followed. His bare feet made almost no sound as he began to climb the steps. The stone beneath them was cold and smooth, as if polished by the many who had climbed here before… and never come back down. Every step upward sent a jolt of tension through his body, as if the castle itself were watching him, counting his movements.

The thought that this might be a joke was interrupted by a barely perceptible movement near the wall, hidden in the shadows. Ajax froze, his eyes fixed on something concealed a few meters away from him. His heart began to beat faster, pounding in his ears and pounding furiously against his ribs, almost painfully. But along with the fear came adrenaline. It was a shame that his still-bound hands didn’t allow him to act bravely right now.

Clenching his jaw, the young man turned sharply away from the shadow, stubbornly dismissing it all as a figment of his imagination. It was too quiet here, too dark, so it was no surprise that his mind was starting to play tricks on him. He would have heard footsteps. He definitely would have heard them if there was anyone else here.

At least that thought kept him going.

The corridors stretched out one after another, all equally empty, all equally unfamiliar. Until Ajax found himself in a hall that looked much more spacious than the previous ones. His blue eyes swept over the windows, behind which nothing could still be seen due to the fog and the heavy curtains that covered some of them. The weather itself didn’t want anyone who came here to feel even a little bit better.

A sudden, invisible force seemed to crash down from above, leaving Ajax no time to react, and in the next second his knees slammed against the cold stone. It wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t weakness. He had been forced to his knees. He could feel it in his shoulders, as if they were bearing the weight of a dozen buckets.

Ajax forced himself to look up. At first, he saw only a silhouette against the castle’s gloom. It wasn’t very tall and was far too still to be an ordinary person. And the creature, as if on command, stepped forward slowly, stepping into what could barely be called a light source. The face emerging from the darkness was pale, completely devoid of warmth. “Of course, this rich man didn’t even know what it was like to work in the sun…” the ginger noted to himself.

And when the lord of the castle tilted his head slightly, the light caught his lips for a moment, illuminating a smirk and the glint of fangs. Real fangs, like those of devilish wolves or foxes. Definitely not human.

The connection between the missing people and this place quickly clicked in the guy's mind. A vampire...

"Jesus..." Ajax exhaled unconsciously as his eyes fixed on the monster before him. He had heard stories about the ancient vampire that lay in the castle towers. Could that really be possible?!