The vampire was still, unmoving. The bit which Dr. Van Helsing had placed in its mouth was firmly held in place by straps and buckles. The body was not stretched out, quite, but the hands and feet were held by thick manacles solidly chained to the wall. There was some give, yes, but Van Helsing had been careful to make certain that the vampire was unable to reach its head and remove the bridle that rendered its sharp fangs harmless and kept the blindfold over the mesmerizing eyes.
Van Helsing had chained the beast over a month ago, when he brought it back from Romania on his urgent mission to destroy the monster. The monster had been hauled from its coffin, held motionless by the Bowie knife through its heart, and restrained. Abraham had knelt in front of his captive, giving a final testing of the bonds, removed the knife...and the vampire had awakened.
x x x x
The vampire writhed at his feet, muffled snarls coming from the bitted mouth, and Abraham jerked back in startlement. It had gone from motionless to violently active with no pause, and the chains strained and vibrated with the force of its contortions. His hand tightened around the knife handle to a white-knuckled grip, but Abraham would not back away. Instead, he watched as the vampire fought the restraints, the men behind him ready with guns, knives, stakes, holy water...an entire arsenal of weapons, should the vampire begin to break those restraints.
But they held. The severe wounds from the failed attempt to destroy the monster, the long voyage back, the weeks of starvation...the beast couldn't break them, try as it might. It was still far too powerful to do anything with, but...it was now restrained. With a sort of bitter relief, Abraham watched his prisoner twist and fight, body arching off the floor, arms and legs pulling and straining...and the bonds held tight.
x x x x
Pain and fury. Absolute, blinding fury, that he should be trapped so. Dracula snarled, rage increasing even further at the muffled and unthreatening grumble that made it past the metal gag. Muscles strained as he fought to open his mouth and spit the bar out, but his head was held fast in some sort of device. This was not tolerable! His arms and legs moved, but the movement was limited, restricted, and while whatever enclosed his head reduced sound, he could still hear the clink and rattle of chains.
Chained! How DARE they! Wild with rage, he fought, ignoring the pain and the injuries this created. He was a Nosferatu, not something to be kept prisoner by mortals! He reached for his other forms, changing to fog, planning to leave his bonds and then devour the foolish men that had done this...only to find himself thwarted. He was far too diminished and weakened by his ordeals to change easily, and the men had done...something...that stopped him. Infuriated and frustrated, he fought and twisted, hoping that this time, the chains would warp and break, that this time, the continued damage would be too much and he'd be be free.
His neck burned and ached where a collar-a COLLAR!-restrained his head, his wrists and ankles were on fire, but he continued.
All he had to do was break a single chain. He'd have the leverage from the wall and floor he felt against his side and back, then, to snap another one, then another...and before they could escape, he'd shred those arrogant fools. Rage fed by the thought of their blood dripping from his talons and teeth, he fought on.
He'd escape. And then they'd pay.
The beast had fought the entire night, and it was dawn before he quieted. It was sudden...one moment arching up and straining, hissing in fury and effort...the next, motionless on the floor, like a puppet with its strings cut. Abraham was impressed, but also exhausted. The beast had to tire eventually, tire enough to listen to him. Until then, he'd simply have to wait. For now...he was going to sleep himself.
Leaving a man on guard to watch and directions to always, always have someone watching the beast, he went to his own bed to join the vampire in deep and dreamless slumber.