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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #1227934
All you need is time for one more trick...
Dracula looks over at who he calls the Key Keeper, the best of all his warriors. Dracula calls him this for he controls the Black Prince’s Dragon Brigade. Thus he is the key to Dracula’s power. All respected Key Keeper. Even the Black Prince admired his skill at death.

" Key Keeper," Dracula yells so they can hear him over the celebration.

"My Prince, I Key Keeper have hacked my way through a hundred men today. I do this for my Prince, Vlad III the son of Vlad II, Prince Drac the Dragon. I Key Keeper put my life to ensure that a son of the ruler of the Dragon will sit in judgment upon the throne of Wallachia.

" Key Keeper, you are my proudest. No man can compare in skill. You have helped me, Dracula retain my rightful place as ruler of the house of Basarab. I have watched with admiration your abilities. Only the great Key Keeper can move as if unseen through battle. If it were not for the trail of death, you, Key Keeper would be only a nightmare.”

The night approaches its end at the hands of the rising sun. The wine has drowned all that might have separated man from beast. Dracula's own vision starts to blur as he watches his guest's freakish behavior.

Dracula looks at Key Keeper who is drowning in drink. Key Keeper’s men surround him. Their respect for Key Keeper lets the emotion named envy creep into Dracula's thoughts.

Key Keeper grabs his wife and pulls up her dress exposing her stomach, bloated to the point of bursting with new life. Key Keeper rubs her stomach, his eyes flood with pride in knowing that this child will be a continuing of himself. Dracula stares at him, in his twisted mind hate, jealousy and madness battle for his thoughts.

Dracula has no heir. He is incapable of the role of sire. No matter what a woman does, they have never brought him to manhood. As a young man his inability to breed frustrated and enraged. His failure gave way to his hate of life.

The longer Dracula stares at Key Keeper and his woman, the more his thoughts are consumed in flames. Men like Key Keeper always dream more for their sons then they could ever imagine for themselves. Dracula thinks about his father's last words. The trusted are the most untrustworthy.

" Key Keeper, come," the tone in Dracula's voice catches the attention of all.

Key Keeper quickly walks to the throne and kneels before the darkness that is his master. Even with his mind soaked with wine Dracula's sense of self-preservation is keen.

" Key Keeper, you are magnificent. You are the greatest of all who have embraced war. Even death itself respects Key Keeper. You are invincible. Give me your sword." Dracula says as his mind runs wild through the darkness of mistrust.

Key Keeper draws his sword from his belt and hands it to the only thing in life that can make his heart pound. Dracula steps down from his throne and walks around the kneeling Key Keeper.

"I hold the sword, the source of Key Keeper’s power. I hold its blade to my ear and hear the screams of all who have come to an end by its cold chiseled steel. The sounds of the screams are sweet, they tell me of Key Keeper’s pride as it cut deep through the living flesh of its victims. This sword has granted you power, fear and respect, all the ingredients for a potent brew. With all that said Key Keeper, tell my guest who and what you really are," Dracula says standing above Key Keeper with his sword held in both hands.

"Who is Key Keeper? I am a killer. Men follow me out of respect but mostly fear. For I Key Keeper am invincible. My pride, courage, the strengths in my every strike are all gifts from desire. That desire is sweet rage. My only reason to exist is to keep my Prince, a son of the Dragon, the only one whose blood gives him the right to rule. I Key Keeper am nothing than a slave that must obey the Dragon Prince." Key Keeper dares not look up.

"Why my mad dog humbles me. To look upon Key Keeper, a man above most, as nothing more than a slave. If I demand your life right now, you would give yourself in sacrifice. A man who has spit in the face of death. A man who relishes the joy of inflicting pain. All men know Key Keeper. All fear Key Keeper. Even the briefest of thoughts of Key Keeper ensures the frantic flight of the nightmares. Your greatness comes from my ability to inspire. You live only because I the Dragon will it so. Tell all my guests of your obedience to me your master." Dracula stalks around the kneeling Key Keeper, his mind twisting in its rage.

"You are my Prince. My life is yours my Dragon. My victories in battle are just ways to serve my master." Every thought is rethought with caution, for he has seen enough danger to know when it is approaching.

"You my mad dog have earned all the rewards, stature, respect, command and gold that I have bestowed. You tell all that your life and all that you are belongs to me to do with as I wish. What you say better be the truth. For some reason tonight I think your truth is not pure. Ringlee, come here,” Dracula says motioning to Key Keeper’s woman to come stand with them. Key Keeper feels cold inside. Now his woman and child have been drawn into this madness.

Dracula and all that surround him seem phantom like in their motions. Their shadows dance upon the walls as the torches and the sunrise that is still in its infancy do battle for the light. All attention is drawn in anticipation of the terror. Dracula stalks around Key Keeper and his woman.

"Let me stand my Prince and serve the Dragon," Key Keeper yells as he starts to tremble.

"Do not move, Key Keeper," Dracula screams.

With Key Keeper’s sword Dracula cuts the strap to Ringlee's dress. Ringlee does not move as she stands naked before her kneeling man. She knows the Black Prince well enough not to show any emotion, for fear would be a very deadly sin. Key Keeper is afraid to even look up as Dracula stares at Ringlee. Dracula remembers like it was yesterday when she was just a child. Her father was Chinlee, a mystic from the mystery beyond the Great Wall of China. The Mongol hoards kidnapped her mother from the Vikings. Ringlee was part of them both. Her flaming red hair was her mother's. Her white skin held a golden hue and her doll like features came from the oriental magic man. She was all a woman could aspire to. Nevertheless, Dracula could not understand the desire.

" Key Keeper, all is mine."

"All is yours, my Prince," Key Keeper says as he starts to lose his voice.

Ringlee stands completely still, thinks of her baby and that now she is the entertainment.

"All is mine. If I want your woman, she will be mine. Yet this, Key Keeper, is not about Ringlee," Dracula says placing his hand on her stomach. To Ringlee his touch is as cold as ice. The new life inside her twists and turns in retreat. Nevertheless, she did not move.

"Inside her is your seed. I can feel its dreams. It dreams of rule, my rule," Dracula screams, taking a step back.

"No my master, he has no dreams. He may even be a girl child," Key Keeper screams as he starts to stand. Ringlee feels sick and weak in her knees, yet remains still.

"Stay down."

Key Keeper obeys and thinks he must do something to save his child.

"Maybe you are right, Key Keeper. Maybe he has no dreams," Dracula says as he raises his sword.

"Maybe it is your dream dog." With that said Dracula hacks at Key Keeper’s neck, sending him lurching forward knocking down Ringlee.

" I will not have treachery. This dog wanted my birth right."

Dracula kicks Key Keeper off Ringlee. He grabs her by the hair pulling her until she is standing beside him with the sword held to her throat.

"Take this and the seed of revenge she carries to the black door."

Ringlee walks with her captors down stairs that seem never to end. Yet she knows that they will, deep in the bowels of Dracula's castle. Ringlee thinks of her father's words. All you need is time for another trick. Maybe, she thinks, knowing that she still has her medallion and magic bag nestled between her breasts.

The sight of the black door at the bottom of the stairs makes Ringlee lightheaded from fear. Her captors hold her up as they bang on the black door. The black door, with the sound of a groan slowly opens revealing nothing but darkness. Ringlee's captors just throw her inside for they dare not enter. She falls down a few stairs to a floor that is cold against her nakedness. She looks up at the only light, coming from the open door. Before she can survey her surroundings, the black door slams shut. Slowly she feels her way toward the door, survival for them her only goal. She feels the door and stands. The latch slides open but she senses that they are no longer alone. She feels the heat from it's body right before a sack is slipped over her and she is carried away.

A torch cast a greenish glow within the sack as she is taken to the unimaginable. She is thrown onto what feels like bars that rock back and forth. Sounds that cannot be human surround her. Ringlee lays completely still within the sack, for she thinks there is safety within its womb.

Eventually she crawls from the sack exposing her to the end of hope. She finds herself locked in a cage dangling above the floor on the end of a chain. Next to her is another cage with three men crammed inside. There is a slab in the center with chains and cuffs on each corner. It is covered with blood that has dripped down the sides to form puddles of pasty gore. In the illumination from the torches she sees bodies chained to the walls and impaled on stakes, their flesh sloughing off bright white bones with maggots and rats feasting on the putrid stew.

She sits straight with legs crossed. He will walk in any moment, she thinks, staring out of the bars into a vision of memories, for the future is too terrifying.

Being Key Keeper’s woman gave her a position of importance among the inhabitants of Dracula's Castle. She was with child four times, but all were lost before she could feel the new life stir inside her. That was until now. She rubs her stomach feeling her child's uneasy movements. She leaves her dream for there is no time. The torches are burning to their end. With their passing darkness will rule. She looks at the men stuffed in the other cage. They are so frightened. On the other side of the fire pit is a hole in the corner. It is covered with steel bars chained and locked tight. Around the bottom of the stone slab are rats impaled on small stakes. To the altar of pain they are ornaments that seem to dance to the flicker of the light's last gasps. Everywhere she looks are contraptions to do what, even for one that has seen it all, could not imagine. Along one wall are stakes, swords, iron bars, knives and whips. Something catches her eye hanging there among the tools of the torturer's trade. In the fading light she sees the flaming red hair of her mother's scalp. She always thought that the Black Prince killed her mother and father. Now the proof sickens her as she feels the pain they must have endured. As the total darkness triumphs she dreams the impossible dream, revenge.

Ringlee is in total darkness except once a day when Trolloft comes with water and bread for her and the men in the other cage. Trolloft had his tongue ripped from his mouth long ago. For in this room his master committed unspeakable acts. Every time Trolloft would come in Ringlee would sing to him. She had no need for a KEY for there was no lock she could not pick. The lock on her cage was almost too easy. She would leave her cage only when the men in the other cage were asleep for they would be of no help. Try as she might she could not find a way out. The one door was bolted from the outside. In the dark when the men were asleep she would move things around the room. This would scare and confuse Trolloft. He feared her magic, but not more than his Master. In the dark Ringlee would go to the pit that is covered with bars and locked with chains and stare down into the blackness, the new life inside her kicked and rolled, for it sensed the fear. The stench coming from the pit would burn her eyes. However, what frightens her was the laughter; at least what she thought was laughter coming from deep within the pit. What lives down there? What could it possibly be? It must be horrible if it finds amusement here. Ringlee shuddered when she wondered what could make it cry.

Ringlee remembers that Dracula said he would lead his Dragon Army on its rampage of revenge. It has been ten days. He will return anytime. Trolloft comes in with only water, and will not look at her. He covers his ears to stop her sweet songs. Dracula is back; my plan must work; she thinks rubbing her stomach.

She knows begging for her life is nothing more than music to his ears. No, her plan is to use what means most to Dracula, fear. She has what she needs in her magic bag. The potion that she coated her medallion with will mark him. She must get him to touch it. The maggot-infested hand she took from one of the bodies that adorn the walls will add just the right touch. She sits suspended in the darkness within her cage, awaiting her destiny.

Trolloft builds a fire. Dracula will be here soon, Ringlee thinks. The men also know the Black Prince is on his way. One cries and the other two pray. Ringlee thinks how foolish praying is. If there is a God, he would dare not interere.

Ringlee stops her song when the rats that have been roaming fearlessly scurry into every available hole, crack and crevice. Ringlee slowly turns to see Dracula standing in the doorway. She curls herself up into a ball and prepares for her last chance.

Dracula walks over to the cage holding the men. For a moment he stands there enjoying their begging. Then he walks over to the wall and picks out some instruments that would make even the most brutal imagination wonder. Ringlee watches his every move.

"That one," Dracula says pointing at one of the men in the cage.

Trolloft opens the cage that is suspended from the ceiling by a large chain and grabs the chosen one. The man screeches while holding on to the bars. Trolloft rips him loose with ease and throws him to the ground. He pins the frantic man to the floor with his foot as he locks the door on the cage. Trolloft then chains the man's wrist and pulls him up until he dangles just above the floor in the center of the room.

"You dog, dare take up arms against me, Dracula. I have left my black mark on your land. Yet it is paradise compared with the journey you are about to embark on," Dracula hisses his words as he walks slowly around his victim.

The man turns his head in an attempt to see Dracula's every move, as if seeing the torturer will make it less painful. While Dracula starts on the crying man with his gouges, clips and slicers, Ringlee can only see Dracula's back and the twitching shadow of his helpless victim dancing on the fire lit back wall. The ear piercing screams smash from wall to wall making the bars of Ringlee's cage vibrate with their own sad song. Hours creep by as Dracula's thoughts try to outdo each other.

"This bastard will not die. I am hungry. Trolloft, get me food. First put this thing back in his cage," Dracula says as he walks over to the big chair in the corner.

Dracula stares at the men in the cage as they try to comfort their friend, who is now nothing more than a corpse looking for a way to die. He looks over at Ringlee who remains curled up in a ball. She will be such grand fun, he thinks as his interest goes back to the men. Ringlee is not frightened, she has prepared and is ready to confront death. In the dead quiet, Dracula reads the men's minds. They are trying to think of what the next few minutes will be like. Fools, even their wildest thoughts dare not enter where I am about to take them, he thinks.

Trolloft brings in a silver tray full of the very best of food and the sweetest of wine. He puts it on a table and places it in front of his master. As the Black Prince feasts, what to do with these men slivers into his mind. A mutton chop in one hand and a goblet full of wine in the other Dracula walks toward the cage. The men tremble and cry.

"This dog is still alive. Stop your crying, you filth. All is not lost, you may still leave this place. I did not get what I wanted from your friend. Kill him and you will live," Dracula says stepping closer to the cage.

When the men realize the Black Prince's offer, one grabs his friend's throat while the other rips at the open wounds. Dracula watches with amusement as they overkill their brother in arms. He laughs at what is left of victim number one.

"Very good, I am pleased, which one of you great warriors put an end to this dog?"
It only took a second for their tortured souls to understand their plight.

"It was I my Prince, Garilla the Strong. I felt his life go through my hands as I crushed his throat."

"No, no Prince Dracula it was I, Demlin. You saw for yourself. I tore him to pieces."

Abruptly the men stop their argument. Desperation makes them understand their only hope. The struggle is delightful, but all to soon Garilla the Strong gets his arm around victim number two's throat. Demlin's last taste of time is a pathetic gesture. It is as if he is beckoning death to come and put an end to his disgrace.

"My Prince, let me serve you, the almighty Dragon. My life, it will be a life you own," Garilla pleads.

"You have done well. How can I trust you? If I let you live, you will surely turn on me one day," Dracula says toying with the fool.

"My master, I have killed my friends for you," Garilla's hope runs wild across his mind.

"You did not kill your friends for me. You killed them for yourself. You Garilla the Strong say you are a great warrior. In my army, a warrior is not taken alive," Dracula plays cat to Garilla's mouse.

The cage slowly starts to swing back and forth. Garilla looks back and see Trolloft pulling on a rope making the cage sway. With each swing the cage gets closer to the raging fire. Garilla now knows his fate as all hope goes up in flames. As the cage swings in and out of the fire, Garilla screams. At first he stands upon the bodies of his friends. Slowly they start to brown, then turn blood red, blister and explode. As they melt through the bars, the dripping flesh hits the flames making the fire hiss like a serpent. He begs for his life, to the very last drop.

The death of the men excites Dracula to the point were his heart races as he howls with child like glee. He sits back down to finish his wine and catch his breath.

Ringlee sees him from under her arm walking toward her. She put one arm through the bars. Her hand holds a chain, from which the medallion of her father the magic man dangles. She is crouching, keeping her face covered. She starts to cry and tremble as if now terror rules.

"Ringlee, I am disappointed. I know you, Ringlee. Your cunning is manlike. I expected at least an offer, a deal, some grand exit. Your father killed himself robbing me of the pleasure. Your mother the Burning Bush worked hard for her life, using all her tricks. Nevertheless in the very end she begged and called your name. Your only hope is this medallion?" Dracula says mulling over his madness.

Take it, take it black dog, take it, take it, Ringlee thinks. Dracula takes the medallion in his hand. The liquid fire it is coated with burns his flesh, but he does not feel the pain. In what is less than a flash Ringlee clasps her hands around his, making him squeeze the burning medallion.

Looking into her face shocks Dracula's mind blank. The sight of her face so startles Trolloft that he throws himself backwards smashing into the wall. The screech coming from her seems to originate elsewhere. Her mouth is filled with brown twisted fangs. Tears of blood stream from her bright red eyes. Ringlee senses that his burning hand is starting to lead Dracula back to reality. The few finger nails from the rotting hand placed in her mouth and some liquid fire in her eyes have gotten their attention. Now is the time to try for life she thinks as she goes for her last chance. A stream of bile projecting from her throat interrupts her scream. It covers Dracula in a thick goo alive with maggots. He jumps back releasing the medallion. The Black Prince is frightened.

"You are now marked. I now will be able to find you. For the hand that sends me to the other side will be visited by my aberration. I will return by feeding off your terror. I have made my deal with him who rules the dark. I shared its bed in return for revenge," Ringlee yells as maggot infested drool drips from her mouth.

Dracula has the bitter taste of what it is like to be a victim. He looks at his hand that is now branded with the crest of Chinlee.

"The pain from all your victims will not compare with my plan for your death, for I will have the help from my lover. You will be nothing more than amusement for the master of the night," Ringlee says staring at Dracula who stands there dripping with her vile goo.

Dracula will not look into Ringlee's eyes as Trolloft washes his master clean of Satan's soup. When Trolloft is done, he wraps a clean robe around his master. Dracula pushes Trolloft out of the way as he goes back to his chair for wine and time to think. Looking at his branded hand, he thinks of Chinlee. He would have chopped Ringlee into a hundred pieces already if it were not for her father. Dracula is one who understands life is nothing more than you are here, and then you're not. Power over your destiny and all that surrounds you is life's greatest gift. In Wallachia Dracula is god. All that exists is for his pleasure. Magic is different. Chinlee killed himself rather then give up his secrets. Dracula is both fascinated and fearful of the sorcerer's' world. He kidnapped many warlocks and witches. He extracted their tricks with his depravity. Yet he could not touch, feel the real power of the dark world. Chinlee was one that had the real power. He might have passed it onto Ringlee. Dracula's fear boils into madness. This makes him feel less than all-powerful. He feared the magic for he could not control it. It was like grabbing at the wind.

"Put her on the slab," Dracula orders.

Trolloft is frightened but he obeys. As he takes her from the cage, Ringlee thinks of the past. Since she was a little girl, she watched Dracula quench his murderous thirst. Looking into the faces of the dammed she thought they were filled with pain. Now as she is about to meet her end, she realizes that it was sadness on the faces, for what they leave behind.

Ringlee does not say a word as Trolloft chains her to the altar. She knows that all that is her family is now ended. Nevertheless, she has a legacy in the form of a nightmare for the son of the Dragon. Dracula comes and stands beside Ringlee. He still does not dare look into her eyes. His stare is fixed on her stomach.

"This is not about you, Ringlee. My hand has no desire to send you from this life. It is Madlox's your husband’s revenge that will end this night," Dracula screams as he slaps her belly so hard that the sound lingers upon the putrid air.

Ringlee wants to cry out but instead she laughs. Dracula has not taken his eyes off her stomach. It rolls, twists and shakes as if the life inside is trying to fend off an end to what has not yet begun.

As if from nowhere a small dagger of gold with a handle made of dark stones as black as the Dragon's heart appears in Dracula's hand. In the center of Ringlee's stomach he shoves the dagger deep. When Dracula lets go, the dagger twists back and forth keeping the beat of the baby's last dance.

It is all over. Dracula pulls out the dagger from his tiny victim. He leaves the altar never looking into Ringlee's eyes. He whispers to Trolloft that he wants her dead, her body cooked down and then dried to powder. In a flash of fire and smoke Dracula is gone. Ringlee was in shock, the death of her baby is far worse than her own. She is insulted that Dracula used such an old trick for his exit. However, this helps her control her thoughts.

Ringlee felt as dead as her baby. Her life was not even worth the hope. It is the sweet simmering thoughts of revenge that make her want to live again.

"He tricked me. The black dog that is your master tricked me. I swear, I did not want you to suffer the revenge of the ruler of the night. It was for Dracula. It is he, not I that place this torturous death upon your head. He passed my death onto you and with it the curse. I have not the power to stop it. I swear to you, the one who fed me, who was kind to me, that I did not want the terrible things that will come to you," Ringlee says and than she starts to sing her song.

Trolloft is afraid and confused. He frees her arms and legs than carries her back to the cage.

"Trolloft, free me and I will be gone. I do not want you hurt but the deal is sealed with blood. The hand that sends me to the other side owns my curse," Ringlee says hoping, his fear her only chance.

Trolloft grunts and shakes the cage. He does not know what to do.

"Your master knows the power of the curse that he has passed on to you. Free me
Trolloft. I will disappear, Dracula will never know," Ringlee says in song. With her saying Dracula's name Trolloft stops shaking the cage. Ringlee sees the terror in his ghoulish face. The few thoughts he is capable of putting together are jumbled as he surrenders to fear. He leaves the dungeon slamming the black door behind him.

Ringlee knows that Trolloft will kill her. He will never disobey Dracula. There is no time. She unlocks the cage and frees herself. She tries the black door another time, again it proves that it will not be her way out. I will hide and ambush him when he comes back, Ringlee thinks in desperation. No, that will not work he is far too large and he might not be alone. She looks toward the locked pit and feels sick inside. She walks over and stares through the bars covering the pit, into the blackness. The foul smells coming up from deep inside dare her to attempt her only chance.

No time, she thinks as she unlocks the bars and crawls in. She locks it behind her and works her way slowly down the side. She only gets about ten feet before she hears the black door open and the frantic grunting of Trolloft. Ringlee cries when she sees Trolloft's gruesome face silhouetted by the torch he holds as he looks down at her through the bars. All of the fight was for nothing as she savors what will be her last breath.

Trolloft's mind is very slow but like all things he fears the unknown that waits at the end of the road. He is also smart enough to understand an opportunity. He now has a chance to free himself from the curse passed on to him by his master. Now the curse will be on what lives in the bottom of the pit. Trolloft jabs at Ringlee through the bars with a sharpened stake. She attempts to hold on but quickly surrenders to the fall through space. It seems to take forever but the end comes with a thud. The air is knocked from her, and try as she might it will not return. Her mind spins as she slowly slips away.

The first thing she senses on her return is the burning that rages inside her stomach. Slowly her vision focuses and she finds herself in a small room. The torch in the corner reveals what looks like human skin stretched within a wooden frame. A face that use to be a man is nailed to the wall. In the corner to her right is the body of a man, his skin brown with decay. He sits on a stool, his rotten teeth bared in a hideous smile from his lip-less mouth. Next to the bed on which she lays sits a bucket filled with arms and hands arranged like flowers. Her breath is snatched from her lungs again when she looks over at the other side of the bed and sees them standing there. Neither of them is more than three feet tall. Their short legs and long arms add to the distortion of their huge heads. Their skin is bloodless white. Their pink eyes stare out from the center of their faces that are framed by the fine white hair of their beards.

Ringlee knows these two. They are the freak litter of Dracula's third cousin Calsin. She died giving birth to these absurdities. As a child they were her playmates. It has been almost twenty years since they disappeared.

"Cabal and Swish, is that you?" Ringlee asks while her thoughts seek to understand.

"She knows us. She knows us. He, he, he, he, he. I told you she would remember us Swish, for are not we unforgettable. He, he, he, he, he, he. You said no. I knew you were wrong. He, he, he, he, he, he. Cabal wins. I win, I win," Cabal says in a squeaky voice befitting his miniature shape.

"I did not say that. I believed. You lie, Cabal," Swish shrieks back at his twin.

They grab each other like dogs fighting over a bitch. They fall to the floor twisting themselves around each other screaming insults and taunts.

"Boys, boys. You stop that right now," Ringlee yells at them just like when they were children.

Cabal and Swish stand up and put their arms around each other like lovers. It was as if their disagreement never existed.

"We sorry. Do not be mad at us," the twins say in complete harmony.

"Mad, I could never be mad at my two good boys," she tells them enforcing her control.

"Come, my beautiful boys. Come to me. Your Ringlee wants you," she says holding out her arms to gather and embrace. They all drift off to sleep as the twins cuddle with her nakedness and rub themselves against her like heat-mad dogs.

She is awakened by what feels like she has been stabbed. The pain sits her straight up on the bed. She is comforted by the sight of Cabal and Swish lying at her feet like huge pink puppies. It reaffirms that she is still alive. Another stabbing pain, worse than the first forces her to scream. Cabal and Swish in startled response leap from the bed. They smash into each other and crash to the floor. Quickly they scamper to their feet and stare in wonder at Ringlee from the end of the bed.

Again and again comes the stabbing pain. Ringlee slips her arms between her legs and spreads them to encourage it's exit. She screams and sings her song. Soon the life that never was slips from her insides. She takes the dead baby in her hands. Thoughts of Dracula burn in her head when she sees the wound to its heart. She bites the birth cord in half, cutting the link that made them one.

"Here is a baby brother for my good boys," she says handing the tiny corpse to Cabal.

Cabal holds it in his arms and gently rocks it.

"Let me. He is mine," Swish yells grabbing it from his twin.

They squabble for a short time, than each takes one of Ringlee's baby's little hands. Ringlee looks at what would have been her son flopping like a broken limb between the two as they dance in a circle. Her plan did not include living. She has faced the very teeth of the Dragon and is still alive. This miracle deserves the sweet reward of revenge.

© Copyright 2007 GEOFFREY ROBSON (timerollin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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