"Lucard and Stoker's Dracula"

Lucard and Stoker's Dracula
by Susan R.

           Alexander Lucard sat at his desk and smiled at the check in front of him. It was from one of his investments in America. He had chosen Hollywood as a new investment and found it to be quite profitable. He always remained a silent partner in the productions. He laughed, remembering why he chose this particular movie; after all, it was about him. Well, about what Stoker had written. He put the check down and looked up as Klaus walked in.
           "From the look on your face, Alexander, I'd guess you must have gotten a little richer today," said Klaus as he sat down in one of the chairs opposite Lucard. "What type of investment is it this time?"
           "The movies. They can be so wonderful. Every time something happens with the movie, I get more money. In a few months, it'll be out on video and I'll get even more money."
           "How nice. So, what is this movie about?"
           "Bram Stoker's Dracula is the title. It's a new version by Francis Ford Coppola."
           "He did The Godfather. Why would you want to invest in the latest Hollywood version of that ridiculous book?"
           "That book is a joke, started by your sad old great-grandfather."
           "What was his name? Oh, Otto Van Helsing."
           "Complete idiot. He had to get Stoker to write a book about vampires because he was a very poor writer. He was an even worse vampire hunter. I remember the night I got the book in the mail...." said Alexander as he began to recall a rainy night.

           Alexander Lucard walked up to the roaring fire and took off his long black coat. It was completely soaked because of the rain, but it did not effect him one bit. His servant, Gerod, entered the room and took the coat.
           "Bring me a bottle from storage. I did not have any luck with hunting tonight. Most of these mortals will not go out on a night like this."
           "Right away, master. You received a package today in the mail. Shall I bring it to you?"
           "Yes, please. Who sent it?"
           "There was no name, but it came from London, England."
           Gerod left and Alexander sat down wondering, who would have sent him a package. He had associates in London, but he wasn't expecting anything. He knew Otto Van Helsing was also living there with his new bride. "And, he can stay there for the rest of his life," he said, thinking of how peaceful his life had been since Helsing moved away. "I haven't had this much peace since before Abraham Van Helsing came after me in 1834."
           Gerod returned with the bottle and a glass. He handed over the package and Alexander ripped it open at once. It appeared to be a small book. His eyes widened at the title, Dracula.
           "What the hell is this!!" he screamed as he stared at it. "Who would dare write such a thing?" He looked at the author's name. He had never met or even heard of a Bram Stoker. He opened the front cover and found a small piece of paper folded up. He opened it and felt his fangs grow as he read the name of the sender. "Helsing!!"
           Alexander Dracul, for over sixty years my family has been trying to destroy you the old fashioned way--with a stake through the heart. I found a new way by exposing you for the monster that you are.. Enjoy the book because it will be your downfall.
           Your dearest enemy,
           Otto Van Helsing
           "Damn him to hell for this!" said Alexander as he threw the letter into the fire. He wanted to do the same with the book but decided to read it instead. He was curious to know what it said about him.
           Only an hour had passed when he finished the book. With his vampire mind, he could speed read it and remember every word. He began to laugh, at first, very softly, but soon his laughter could be heard throughout the castle. "This pile of paper is fiction. This Stoker did not write about me, but my cousin Vlad Tepes. He wasn't even a vampire!!"
           Alexander laughed as he remembered his insane cousin. He had visited him once and learned that his cousin wanted to be a vampire. He drank the blood of his own people who were impaled on his front lawn. Some of the peasants said that he was a vampire and the rumors went on for ages.
           It was Abraham Van Helsing who discovered that the Dracul family had spilt centuries before and the Lucard family was formed. When Helsing tracked down Alexander, he tried coming after him but failed countless times. The vampire hunter passed his tales of Alexander down to his son and then to his grandson.
           Alexander walked into his library and placed the book next to Frankenstein. He had a feeling that the world would see this book as it really was, fiction. He knew that the old days of vampire and witch hunts had come to an end. "These mortals don't believe in us anymore. It makes it so much easier to live," he said with a laugh.

           "Even today, Klaus, the world knows Dracula through the words of Stoker."
           "My father told me that he chose to use the name Abraham instead of Otto to protect my great-grandfather from the public."
           "I'm sure your father told you all about the Helsing family legacy."
           Klaus made a face. "Hundreds of times. I was his hope for the future. He thought I might be the one to stop the evil Alexander Lucard."
           Lucard only laughed. "You did, in a way. Did you know that I seduced Otto's youngest son into becoming a vampire?"
           "Christoph Helsing. I heard he betrayed you."
           "Yes. He proved to be a true Helsing. His death was very slow and painful. I hope that I will not see history repeat itself, Klaus."
           "Alexander, you are my father now. I could never turn against you," said Klaus as he looked at his master with sincerity.

           The End.

Note from the author: Although all of the characters in this story are fictional and based from the TV show, Dracula: The Series, I know that Bram Stoker was a real man and one of my favorite authors. I respect his family because if it wasn't for his brilliant novel, Alexander Lucard could never have been created.

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