|VVCD The Turning Alternate 1
Author: VAPX007 PM
Expect all new twists as the denizens of that dreaded castle return to your screen! Will Igor get his master to drink blood at last? Will Goosewing finally get the foul fiend? Will Count Duckula finally grow up and get the life he wants to lead? Ch 12 upRated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Fantasy - Chapters: 12 - Words: 19,404 - Reviews: 16 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 07-18-12 - Published: 01-26-12 - id: 7776294
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: There are a whole lot worse things out there than bridging scenes. Like blue screens.
Thick clouds gather in the sky, hiding the sun from the morning dew and softening the break of morning.
Claudette yawned as she left the motel office, the sky was beginning to lighten despite the cloud cover. She got back into the driver's seat and drove them further into the motel complex.
"I appreciate our mutual distruzt, docktor ... but neizher of us can shtay avake forever."
Goosewing looked up from tinkering with his vampireometer. "Ja, I have sought of zis already." He smiled at her. "My wampireometer vill now be telling me how far away you are."
"Oh." Claudette uttered blankly and got out of the car.
Goosewing stepped out of the car and stood beside her as she pulled bags out of the boot. "Is zhere a problem, docktor?"
"Haz it not crossed yourh mind zhat I may need proteczion from you also, docktor?"
"Fhrom me?" Goosewing repeated, slightly startled. "But you are ze wampire."
"Ja, aber you have killed more zhings in Berne alone zhan I haff in mein whole life - including as a wampire."
"You mean unlife, ja?"
Claudette slammed the lid of the boot closed. "I shall shleep in room tventy two." She handed Goosewing a key, "und zhat is ze key to yourh room; number zhirty. Guten morgen, docktor."
The wind whistled in the silence of the hall.
"Nothing would please me more, milord, than to see you satiated."
Duckula backed away from Igor and hid his face in his hands. "What am I saying?"
"Sir, if milord was so famished, then why did you let the travellers go?"
"Really! Igor!" Duckula shouted, clearly upset. "How could you be confused?" He gestured at the open door through which Robert, Maria and their son had left only a minute ago. "I would've thought it was so bluntly, plainly, pathetically obvious!"
"I fear, milord, I am perhaps not on the same wavelength."
"I had to let them go, Igor!"
"Because it's the right thing to do!"
"Yes, sir." Igor acknowledged in disgruntlement without properly understanding the count's predicament. 'The sooner he abandons such a fickle notion the better it will be for him.'
"I mean; me wanting ... blo-o-od, indeed! It's ridiculous, I've done fine all my life without the ... the stuff ... that ... that tastes ..." Duckula licked his beak before shaking his head and blinking out of his daze. "The problem is that the idea's stuck in my head and I can't get rid of it!"
"Milord!" Igor scrabbled to recover the situation, "milord, it's not a problem-!"
"Good munin', suh. Cum tah rahplus yah dar, suh?"
Igor looked to see a new visitor at the door.
"Yes, thank you, Maurice. How are you this morning?"
"Oh, tip tup, yah lardship. Luvlay weatha we' been havun' latelay."
"Yes." Duckula peered past him at the incoming clouds. "Looks like rain later though."
"Spot on, suh! Rain's farcarsted for this week cumin'!" Maurice bent down and started rummaging through his tool box.
"Milord," Igor nudged his master quietly and they stepped out of earshot of the tradesman, "milord, this is the best opportunity for you," Igor glanced at Maurice as he started putting the new door in, "he is unsuspecting."
"Great, Igor." The count replied scathingly, "only then who would come up here to replace the door?"
Igor blinked. "His blood will abate your hunger, milord. This is what you need to-."
"I was confused, Igor. I don't really 'need' blood. How else have I gotten by for so long without it?"
"Watch him, milord, and perhaps it will come clear to you."
Duckula watched Maurice work for a moment. "No."
Igor was at his end. "I really don't know what I can do for you, milord, when you pass up meal after meal."
"He's been replacing our front door for twenty years." The young master sighed wistfully. "He's got a proper job, a loving wife and family who need him. I don't want to eat him, Igor, I want to 'be' him."
"Perhaps milord may be thinking a touch too hard upon this subject." Igor observed.
"I'd be grateful, Igor, if 'this subject' would just leave my head entirely." Duckula sighed. "Rather than dogging me all night through every conversation ... Igor, last night was horrible!"
"It would not be so horrible for you, milord, if you would only just give in to your instincts."
" 'Give in'?" Duckula rubbed his forehead. "That's what you want me to do."
"This notion is clearly troubling you without my assistance in the matter." Igor mentioned in subdued triumph.
Duckula stared at Igor. "Alright, Igor, so it's in my head. But I don't want to become some heartless killer. That's much worse than just having the thought plaguing me."
"Perhaps, milord ..." Igor hesitated with the idea, "if it is milord's preference ... there is the option ..." he gritted his teeth.
"What is it, Igor?"
"Perhaps it is something you should be aware of, milord." Igor sighed, giving in. He would oblige his master anything that would assist him. "If you were only to make the attempt and filled your beak, milord." Duckula licked his beak. "There is no real necessity to kill your victim."
"You're kidding me!" Duckula blinked up at him. "You've never told me that!"
"No, I have not, but it is quite true, milord." Igor gestured to Maurice, who had nearly finished fitting the door. "You can feed and still allow him to walk free."
"Well then, that's an entirely different story ..."
Igor watched as Duckula walked slowly towards the tradesman at the door.
'One small bite will be a significant step. One small bite will undoubtedly lead to a larger one ...' Igor watched his master lean in towards the peasant, and then ...
Count Duckula handed him money and shut the door behind him.
Igor slapped his hand to his face. 'Why on earth did I get my hopes up? His confounded conscience won't even let him get as far as a small bite!'
"Are you alright, Igor? You don't look so well."
Igor looked down to his master standing opposite him again. "I will manage, milord." He collected himself quickly.
"I couldn't do it, Igor."
"So I gathered, milord. Shall I fetch a bottle from the cellar for you?"
"No, Igor." His master said firmly. "I mean I realised standing there that I'm too hungry for just a mouthful, Igor." Count Duckula crossed his arms. "No, Igor, there's only one thing for it."
"Indeed, milord?" Igor raised an eyebrow, almost afraid of what solution his master had come up with and how bizarre it might prove. "And what would that be?"
"I'll just have to find something that I can eat." Duckula shrugged.
"Perhaps some ... one ... that you're not afraid of killing, milord?"
"That's exactly what I was thinking, Igor."
"A splendid plan, milord ... and who might that be?"
Duckula scratched his head. "Beats me, Igor. But I know I won't find them in this place."
"But we have a perfectly good village, milord!" Igor repeated desparingly, "what sort of meal is it that you cannot find here?"
"I'm looking for a clue to that answer, Igor." Duckula turned towards the downstairs but then turned back to Igor, "once I find the answer ... I'll eat it. In the most humane manner possible of course." He added before he spun around and headed down to the dungeons.
Igor stared after him. "Anyone, milord." He answered the empty hall. "Just so long as it's blood."
Igor turned as Nanny stepped heavily across the wooden floors to him.
"There you are, Mr. Igor, have you seen Duckyboos? I've been looking everywhere for him to give him his brunch."
Igor eyed the plate of celery and carrot sticks that Nanny was holding. "I do believe, Nanny, that the master will be eating out for his next meal."
"Oh." Nanny looked down at her plate. "Well, I'll just put it in the fridge for him for later."
"I hope that there will be no later for those vile celery sticks ..." Igor watched after Nanny as she disappeared down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. " 'Humane manner'." He chuckled. "Let him think what he will, let him choose as he may. But once he takes his first bite ..." Igor smiled. "Count Duckula's name will once again cast a shadow of fear upon whomsoever wanders unwittingly across his path."
As the sun stays hidden behind the grey monsoonal clouds, be cautious, dear reader. Anything could be making that sound out there.