The Vampire from Transilvania

The car rolled leisurely along the cleared highway, allowing me to think about extraneous things. All my conclusions about the mysterious events of the Christmas Eve boiled down to the idea of visiting unfortunate Romanian, who wasn't exactly friendly. But if I wanted to know the truth: what exactly had happened that night, I had nothing else to do. The prospect of meeting Vlad again wasn’t a happy one. He wasn’t a very hospitable guy, and he didn't wish me a pleasant return trip or thank me for my help. Besides, he simply might not want to talk to me. Alas, that outcome seemed to be in his nature. Banging my forehead against the wall, I realized that I still had no way out if I was really going to dig up this story. And I was, hoping that this was the thread that would lead me in the right direction. After carefully considering the possibilities, I decided that if I set out immediately — it was only eleven o'clock — I should have enough time to find that hermit's hideout, talk to him, and be back in Brasov or straight home by three or four o'clock. Sigishoara scheduled for today, I could visit any other day, but I should have timed it well in case I learned something worthwhile from Vlad. I might have to revise my itinerary by adding new destinations. It was encouraging, and despite the ambiguous oddities and even possible drugs, I was experiencing a nice mental boost for the first time since my Seekers had turned out to be a frustrating disappointment. Perhaps I'd still make it, and wouldn't have to return home empty-handed. I got to Poenari fairly quickly. I slowed down as I turned around in the opposite direction, retracing my route into the wilds of the Romanian forests. The main thing was not to miss the right signpost. The sign that convinced me to take a shortcut through the mountains was found soon enough. I made the turn without hesitation. Straightening up in the seat, I gripped the steering wheel tighter and stared ahead, scrutinizing the roadsides as if trying to find something. It was foolish to expect that I would accidentally bump into a Romanian for the second time. Though I had to admit, it would have been much more convenient. I got to the next sign (needless to say, I didn't run into the Romanian I really needed), left the sign behind me, confidently took a left and drove along the country road. Now I had to look for less conspicuous turns - perhaps this part of the road would be the most difficult. I distinctly remembered that I had picked up Vlad about two hundred meters from the sign. Then we drove a short distance and turned left. I needed a third gear then - I went up the hill and finally turned right, and then in a straight line all the way to the wall. Good thing I hadn't forgotten anything. Barely dragging along the road, I scrutinized the spruce thickets generously covered with snow. Maybe here. I slowed down, looking at the barely visible gap in the trees. A car could hardly squeeze through the small gap, so I decided to drive on. After about ten minutes of turtle speed, another gap, not occupied by abundant vegetation, appeared. I let off the gas a little, hesitated, and took a left. The road went upward at a slight angle, which looked like a good sign. Now it was a matter of not missing the right turn. The spruce trees looked deceptive, hinting now and then at possible paths, which often turned out to be narrow, barely perceptible trails where it was impossible to pass, and, thank God, I realized this before the car got stuck in a snow-filled ravine. After driving along the road for about an hour and cursing the Romanian a dozen times, I turned back to the main road. When I reached the sign, I felt a little better. The key turned in the ignition, the engine stalled: I had to think. It looked much easier in theory than it did in practice. There's still time, and I've already come all the way to the middle of nowhere. I thought. And it would be a shame to leave like this, with nothing. Besides, I needed to talk to Vlad anyway, and if I went home now, I'd have to come back another time. And look for those damn turns again. The thought of wasting the whole day was irritating, and I started the engine, determined to attack the wilds again. So, this is where I decided not to turn off. I slowed down again in front of the first turn, determined to look around thoroughly before I went any further. The next turn I was unlucky enough to take was a familiar one. I climbed out, stepping onto the empty road. I'd been riding here for over an hour, and I hadn't met a single living soul in all that time. As I approached the gap, I brushed aside the fluffy paws of the dense spruce, the snow caps falling lightly under my feet. There was a road behind the overgrown branches. Wide enough for a car to pass. I took a few steps forward, gazing into the distance. The slightly winding path went up with incline. The sunlight barely penetrated under the dense sheaves of spruce needles that adorned both sides of the road. Despite the frost, the forest was alive with birds chirping. Everything seemed simple and clear — this forest was not much different from the places near Anchorage, but I couldnot get rid of the persistent feeling that danger was waiting for me here. As if someone or something was waiting, letting me get close enough to pounce. I didn't even notice my heart racing in my chest, and I jerked back against my will, hurrying back to the light-filled road where the Accent was waiting for me. I stopped only at the driver's door. My hand froze on the handle, ready to push and pull at any moment. I froze, confident that I'd have time to react in case of a threat. No, I wasn't desperately brave, but I didn't consider myself a fearful rabbit either, believing from childhood that fear is often just an illusion. Then my father explained that people are afraid of what they don't understand, what they are unfamiliar with. They are frightened by everything new, hidden, secret. In the future, I was repeatedly convinced how right he was. Even the masters of horror movies and thrillers achieved the greatest effect by leading the protagonists down empty, dark corridors, letting them peek around corners or into dark storerooms where was absolutely no one. I turned around. There was still not a soul anywhere. ‘Now think with your head, Alex, not with your guts.’ I ordered myself, suppressing the urge to get inside the safety of car. Two things could be dangerous: people and animals. There were no people around, unless they'd been hiding in the bushes all this time. But why would they want to? I was no threat, and my car was hardly a target. Besides, no one knew I'd be here at this hour today. Not even myself. Predators seemed a more real threat. I think Vlad had mentioned wolves, though at that moment I thought he was just mocking me, trying to scare. Maybe he meant it. I pressed my lips tighter together, and I watched the edge of the woods more and more closely. I desperately didn't want to come even one step closer. What if I really attracted predators while the engine roared to life? The area might have been deafening enough for a beast to come by here every now and then. I've even seen wild bears and moose sometimes wander into small towns and villages, let alone in the middle of nowhere. So, Alex, you were afraid of wolves. Reasonable.  A girl is not a rival to a wolf. But are they dangerous in the car? The answer was obvious. Even though my knees were still shaking, I tried my best to keep my sanity, knowing it was the only way to make the right decision. I'd also lose respect for myself if I ran away from something I didn't know what to do with. Something I even didn’t see. After standing there for a few more long minutes, I went over the reasons why I couldn't turn back again. Or I could, and what I would get out of it. Then I thought again about the maniacs hiding in the woods. It seemed silly. It was my own fault, I shouldn't have watched Wrong Turn so many times. I made up my mind and opened the car door. I got in, locked the doors and started the engine. As soon as the lock clicked, the feeling of dread receded a little. Barely noticeable. ‘You can do it, Alex.’ I pushed myself and carefully turned the steering wheel toward the path. ‘You won't roll off the road. It's wide enough, you saw it yourself.’ Slowly the car crept toward the gap and finally got under the shade of the forest, barely letting the branches brush against the side windows. ‘Well done.’ I kept talking to myself so I wouldn't lose any crumbs of my hard-won bravery. The weather cleared, allowing sunlight to color the snow-covered mountain scenery through the narrow rip in the gap above the path. The birds were making their carefree trills, and the waves of panic came over more and more clearly. With only a dozen meters behind me, I could already see eyes burning everywhere. As soon as I looked in one direction, the illusion vanished. And then it came from the other direction. Greedy, hungry lights staring ravenously at my juicy flesh. It was stupid to turn around here and rush back away from this cursed place. I would definitely get stuck in the snowdrifts and then what? So, I just pressed my foot against the gas. As long as the car was barely crawling, and I was turning my head like an obsessive, I managed to notice a small space on the right side. I guess my excitement and a keen desire to get off this trail anywhere made me turn — after all, I was looking for the right turn too. Did it make me feel any better? Hardly. It was like I was being stalked, followed in my footsteps. I guess if I could see, I'd probably find a pack of hungry wolves lurking behind the trunk. They must have been waiting for me to get out of the car again so they could pounce all at once and tear me to shreds! I gripped the steering wheel, hunched over and stared ahead. The horror almost paralyzed me. I did the only thing I could do: I stepped on the gas harder. I remembered the brake seconds before the Accent slammed into the wall. Did I find it?!   Somehow, I was taken aback. I would sooner believe that the wall, the house, and the Romanian were just a dream, but here was the wall in front of me! The fear vanished at a glance. I had been right all along and had only negligently missed the turn. Now everything was falling into place. I looked around and saw that there was still no one around. And I hadn't seen a single wolf. Had I got myself so worked up, driving around alone, that I was seeing things? It seemed strange. I'd never been so cowardly before. Not believing myself or anything around me, I moved to the backseat, still protected by the locked doors, and tried to look behind the trunk as far as I could. There was nothing around. I even tried to peer into the snow, looking for tracks, but the light wasn't enough, and I couldn't see anything but two serpentine streaks left by the wheels of the Accent. ‘Come on, Alex, you're at the place.’ I spurred myself, forcing to leave the shelter. I turned off the engine and took out the keys, picked up my backpack and carefully got out of the cabin. I hesitated for a moment by the car, and then began to walk around it in a circle until I was behind it. No tracks. Absolutely none. Could wolves be smart enough to tread along wheel tracks? I think you're going crazy, Alex. It seems that the wilderness and my novels about the supernatural haven’t had the most pleasant consequences for me. I gloomily thought and headed for the house, barely overpowering myself not to turn around. It was about two hundred meters to the house, and I glanced back, unable to fight myself, feeling my heart jump in my chest. No one. Completely silent, except for the same invisible birds still chirping in the depths of the forest. What a shame. And this was me bragging to my classmates that there was no horror movie that could scare me. As I stepped onto the threshold of the house, I was relieved beyond my will. The bell was nowhere to be found — I knew about the difficulty with electricity in this house. All I had to do was knock, which I did without a second thought. For about a minute I was listening. There was dead silence behind the door. I knocked again and listened again, pressing my ear hard to the cool wood. At last I drummed. ‘Vlad, it's me!’ I called loudly for some reason. Maybe he didn't like visitors, but if he realized it was just me, he'd show up. Nothing happened. Was it my misfortune that there was really no one at home? Not wanting to leave just like that, I decided to walk around the house and look in the windows. There were deep shadows inside, and I could barely make out familiar things. I recognized the living room by the long back of the sofa and the panel of the mantelpiece protruding from the gloom. I also recognized the kitchen: chairs, table, cupboards — nothing had changed since my visit, but it looked like the house was really empty at this minute. After twitching the handle of the spare door on the other side of the house, I went back  to the porch. What to do? Wait? But when could the owner arrive? I had to guess about that. I knew next to nothing about Vlad and his lifestyle. As I pondered what to do, I stared at the footprints in the snow. The footprints were mine alone. There really didn't seem to be much left for me to do. I opened my backpack and pulled out a notebook and pen. I'll leave him a note. Hi Vlad. Handwriting looked clumsy, but whatto do. It's Alex. I came to see you today, around two in the afternoon. I really need to talk to you. Here's my number. I quickly scribbled down a set of numbers. Call me as soon as you can, please. I really need to talk to you. He didn't have a phone, at least that's what he'd said, but he had to have a way to contact the world if he needed to, right? Pulling my own phone out of the pocket, I marked the lack of network without much surprise. Okay. He might not have been able to call from home, but he'd got out of here. The proof was the empty dwelling behind me. Despite the full adequacy of my reasoning, the image of the strange Romanian continued to confuse with its ambiguity. Who in our century doesn't have a telephone? If you don't call, I'll come to your place. I added a line firmly. Today is the twenty-sixth. Maybe I should give him a couple of days to make sure the message got through? On the twenty-ninth in the morning. Wait for me, please. I really need to talk to you. Hopefully he'd call and I wouldn't have to come here again. With the note securely tucked in the crack of the door, I walked back, staring suspiciously ahead. Back to where I'd left the car. I didn't want to arrive too early and cause unnecessary questions, so I stopped in a familiar town and decided to eat at a small café I'd noticed on my first visit. The place was called Twilight, and of course I couldn't help but stop in. The order was placed and the nimble waitress rushed to the counter to make a latte, allowing me to delve into the guidebook, which described in detail the beauty of Sighisoara. The cinnamon bun was half-eaten, the coffee almost drunk, when I finished refreshing my memory of what I knew about the town I'd supposedly spent the day in, unable to stop glancing at the phone on the right side of my hand. How quickly would Vlad discover the note? Would he be able to call, or would he have to wait until tomorrow? The phone suddenly came to life, making me jump on the spot. ‘Alex, hi.’ Came my aunt's voice. ‘Are you all right?’ ‘Yes, I'm fine. Already going home.’ ‘Good, then I'll set the table. Grigor will be here in an hour and a half. We'll have dinner together.’ ‘OK.’ I hung up. In the evening I was really asked about the trip. No one, of course, tried to check if I was really there, but my relatives showed their usual curiosity. I was prepared for this and soon, after enough details, the conversation turned to other topics. The next day I had a morning Skype conversation with my mom and left for Brasov again. I didn't want to go far and decided to look around other interesting places — there were plenty of them in the city. Besides, there was another circumstance that made me hesitate to travel further: Vlad could get in touch, and I wanted to meet him as soon as possible, so it was best to stay in Brasov, from where I could easily get to him, or at least get to Vlad's house. On that day Vlad didn’t call. Thinking in the evening whether to stay in Brasov again, waiting for news from Vlad, or to go to Sighisoara, I decided in favor of the latter. If Vlad called, I would try to arrange a meeting with him the next day. If not, I would go to him myself. Again.