The Alternative Adventures of Vladimir Dracula

Vlad sat in the lounge his father had specially made for them. He was beckoned in there by his dad just before he went to bed. Vlad wished he had never gone. He was forced to be subject to multiple stories about his birth and his childhood with pictures. How his father even had a camera in Transylvania was a mystery. Apparently, his dad wasn't as anti-breather as he let on.

"And look, that's you riding Zoltan and taking your first bite. Oh. I didn't realise I had so many pictures of Ingrid," said his father. Vlad smiled at his dad. When he wasn't forcing his teeth down someone's neck or forcing Vlad to embrace his vampiric self, the Count was sweet. Although, Vlad knew never even to suggest this to his father. After all, he wanted to keep his arms attached to his body.

"Do we have to do this every year? I've seen pictures of myself enough," said Vlad. The Count looked at the pictures once more and smiled. He loved his children more than blood itself. He slowly placed his finger on the image of his son and daughter together laughing and traced circles onto it.

"So Vladdy, what mischief and chaos have you planned out for your party then," awaited the Count eagerly. Vlad nervously nodded and waited for a suitable excuse to leave the conversation but unfortunately for him, it never arrived.

"You know the usual stuff," said Vlad looking away from his dad. The Count waited for him to continue but just smiled and waved his hand.

"It seems you're just a late bloomer. With enough time and effort, you can maybe be as evil as your father," said the Count. Vlad grimaced upon hearing the word evil. He had no intention of ever becoming that. He just hoped when the time came his dad would be able to come to terms with it. The Count looked outside the window and muttered three more years before leaving the room.

"You're father's right. Only three more years until you become a vampire. After three short years, no more parties with presents and breather friends. Just blood, carnage, and death," revealed Zoltan while Vlad was changing. Vlad just groaned as Zoltan spoke. He knew he was going to be a vampire and there was no avoiding it but he could at least enjoy the time he had left.

"Exactly three whole years to enjoy all that breather life has to offer and after that I have an entire eternity to overcome the sunlight issue. You can just put a sock in it," yelled Vlad while he slammed a sock into Zoltan's mouth. As Vlad left, he could hear the muffled attempts of Zoltan to call out for him but ignored it to go downstairs where his dad was giving Ingrid money to buy new shoes. "Dad, I need some money for party stuff. Maybe like £10," asked Vlad

"Take £40" whispered the Count. Vlad wondered why he gave him so much but then realised that it was his birthday. Why should he care? Vlad just went to get things ready for his party and meet his friends. It was an unusually sunny day for October but it didn't matter to Vlad after all he wasn't a vampire yet.

Vlad, Chloe and Robin sat in the crypt looking through old family photos. Well, Robin was looking at old family photos while Vlad and Chloe tried out the new sun lamp that Chloe had gotten for him. Robin flicked through it while Vlad waited for his pasty complexion to darken. He didn't really like their presents that much but Chloe and Robin were his only friends so he didn't want to make them feel bad. Robin stopped on a certain page before pointing to a picture of Vlad's grandparents.

"Who are they? I've never seen them before," wondered Robin. Vlad took a look and frowned. He didn't want to see his grandparents ever again. He still remembered their draconian rules and how he was forced to learn certain vampire laws and the culture before he had even been potty trained. They weren't just evil vampire grandparents, they were absolutely psychotic. He hadn't even thought of them since the first day he had arrived. At least he would never have to see them again.

"Just my grandparents on my mum's side. They were never really big fans of my dad but then again they were never really big fans of anything but themselves," revealed Vlad. Robin widened his eyes when looking at them.

"Grandparents, they look like they're younger than my parents!" exclaimed Robin

"You do remember they're vampires, right Robin?" asked Chloe. Vlad just smirked when Robin nodded his head with a blush on his cheeks. Robin was the best friend he could count on most of the time. But he was never really quick on the uptake. Vlad had thought about explaining more about them but he didn't even want to think of them so he stayed the same.

"Let's just forget about them. They shouldn't be a topic on my birthday," said Vlad. Robin looked at his friend and wondered why he was so reserved. He never really cared about revealing his vampiric life to him or even Chloe. Why was this such an issue?

"At least the Van Helsing's have taken a trip so they can't bother you today," joked Robin. Vlad just smiled. Nothing could ruin this day. His first proper birthday with no expectations of him being anything. He could just be him. Vlad jerked his head upstairs when he heard a bell. He gestured for his friends to go upstairs and check what it was. What could go wrong?

Vlad hated when life decided to give him lemons. He didn't know how to make lemonade. He ran all around the house making sure that no trace of a breather could be found. Of course, he had to tempt fate thinking nothing bad could happen. It was ridiculous that they were here. They thought we were disgraces. They thought we were embarrassments. They hated us. So why were they here on my birthday? Ingrid hated them. Count Dracula hated them. Vlad hated them. Even Renfield and Zoltan hated them. So why did they come on the one day he wanted them far away from him? Vlad was scared. They never did anything without an ulterior motive. So what was it now? Vlad pondered on it for a while but shook it off and tried to rush Robin and Chloe out. The sun was going down after all. But as usual, time was never on their side so as the sun went down so did the hinges of the coffins begin to open. He murmured for Robin and Chloe to hide and gave them a jar of cream. Hopefully, they figure out what it is before they find them.

"Atilla, Krone. Why have you forced your presence on us?" glared the Count. He hated them. They didn't have a truly noble status nor were they stronger than him. The only reason they could even dare to try to push him around was the stupid council seat he gave them for his dowry. A council seat for Magda. At the time, it was a worthy exchange but as the council grew and Magda showed her true colours, even he had realised the robbery he fell victim to.

"Do not speak to us that way, Draculoser!" Atilla all but yelled at the Count. The Count bared his fangs.

"Do not besmirch my noble name with your meagre insults. What is your business here?" snarled the Count. Atilla flinched and backed away remembering who was the stronger of the two. The Count grinned showing his four fangs making sure she understood her position in his home.

"I have come for Vladimir. My grandchild is 13 today, no?" she said with a glint in her eye. The Count nodded and allowed her to leave her coffin fully. She was his grandmother and she had a right to see him. Atilla continued, "Vladimir, come close so I may see you better." She grabbed his face and turned him around. Vlad could see his dad clenching his fist as she handled him. "You're not pale enough boy. You should be staying inside more."

"Yes grandmother," said Vlad with his head down. Atilla stalked around the room sniffing and searching before she stopped and turned back to where she was standing before. She returned to Krone's side with a dark expression.

"We have also come to your home for another reason Count. We have heard whispers and rumours of you living a non-vampiric lifestyle and so has the Grand High Vampire and the Council. So we have been sent to investigate on their behalf and deal out punishment if need be. Do you understand?" confessed Atilla. The Count nodded and so did Vlad and Ingrid. Vlad really hoped Robin had figured out what to do with the cream because otherwise he was doomed to 3 years of torture. The Count stood there and waited. Patience was a virtue he had learned to adopt. He knew that no matter what they would find some reason to punish them. He bided his time and waited. He knew something of their daughter they didn't. If that didn't change their minds then he knew what he had to do.

Questions. So many questions. Did they eat breathers? Did they sleep during the day and hunt during the night? Were they in any contact with breathers outside of food? Quickly changing the wording so it was harder and harder to lie and more incriminating. Vlad had been begging whatever deity that could be out there to make sure that his grandparents didn't use their ears too much. He had helped his friends with the cream that Renfield had made to get rid of the scent of breathers. It did enough for Renfield that he was bearable to live with but it could probably get rid of his friends' scents altogether. He had to hope that they wouldn't find anything. That would probably be the best birthday present. He had no idea where Ingrid was but he hoped she didn't bring any visitors back today. For once Vlad was stumped. No plan. No quick idea that would help them out. He had nothing. He had one last resort but he had hoped it would never come to that. If push came to shove then he knew what he had to do.

Vlad hated how idiotic Robin could be. He genuinely believed that a pair of fake fangs and fake blood would somehow trick a vampire that had lived for centuries. Of course she would smell him but that wasn't the issue. It was his heartbeat that gave him away. Robin was lucky that Atilla was more focused on them having breathers within the home. She scolded and scolded but she somehow found the solution to our breaking of the vampire law. Vlad was beginning to doubt that the Council or the Grand High Vampire had sent them. Krone mumbled in Transylvanian as Atilla smirked and revealed that a potion of sorts could be created from a bat native to either Transylvania or Wallachia. A potion or a concoction that could trigger the Change for a young vampire as long as they reached 13. Seeing as Ingrid was still absent, the potion was meant for Vlad. The Count's eyes darkened and he clenched his jaw. Vlad knew that this wasn't something he could just run from. He had to face this head-on. 3 years taken from him. 3 whole years to figure out who he was before facing the vampire within him gone. He had to face reality. This time he was on his own. His last resort was useless in this case. Even if he revealed the true nature of his mother to them, all they would do is give the concoction to him and expose his father and mother while taking custody of him. Vlad had thought it out. They didn't care about their daughter. They only cared about status, wealth, reputation and power. If they had to sell out their flesh and blood for it then they would. No one could save him today. His birthday.

"Vladimir come closer," said Atilla with a wide grin on her face. Vlad walked towards her as slowly as he could before looking into her eyes and picked up the pace. He had tried to think of a plan with his dad. They couldn't switch the blood because Atilla kept it on her person. They couldn't commit vampicide because they had no idea if this was mandated by the Council. His dad went through all vampire law that he knew and couldn't find anything that could stop Atilla. Their plan was airtight. He had to go through with it. His dad had one plan up his sleeve but he said it would take time. Time is such an odd concept. The relativity of it all. How fragile it could be. Vlad had once thought of these three years as if he was entitled to them. The three long years had turned into a few short minutes. Time was up and all he could do now was drink. He looked at his dad one last time, took a deep breath and drank. He drank the small tube of red viscous liquid that had a metallic taste but a sweet one. One that he could appreciate. He drank and drank and drank until only the sides of the container had any of the substance. The glass dropped to the ground and so did he. He convulsed on the floor. He couldn't stop moving and twitching and jerking. He shuddered and shivered and shook. He trembled, tremored, twitched, and thrashed as his father tried to hold him in place not wanting to hurt him. Vlad was fully conscious and watched it all as his father shouted for help and Atilla stood there in shock. He was awake for a while unable to change anything or even move a single finger as he went into fits until he also fell asleep. The last thing he saw was a shady figure enter the room and his father cry.

Vlad arose from the ground with a pounding headache. He sat up and sighed. That was it. No more school. No more friends. No more cereal. Nothing that even resembled breather culture. He knew it was coming. He knew he had to become one in the end. But he had always expected time to be on his side. But time was as cruel as fate. Even for the immortal. He hoped his dad wasn't too worried about him. He was fine in the end. But as Vlad thought of his father, he turned and looked across the room and saw arrows lodged into wood and on the floor. He realised there must have been a fight. Probably with the shady figure who was more than likely Van Helsing. He couldn't even be free of him on his birthday. He half-expected his mother to be here too. Vlad was about to stand before he fell to the ground again. He hadn't seen it before but now he could. Three piles of ash...