Chapter 37: And With a Smile That Judas in Hell Might Be Proud Of, Part 6

Dracula had been circling, watching Alex now that she was alone, just like all heroes (seriously, it was an unwritten rule, and these damned millennials—or whatever they called themselves—had tried to break it). He had been waiting, watching to see if she would rise to the occasion. And, of course, he had figured out the trick. How Daniela had returned and how she had defeated Death so easily.

The trick was actually very simple. No miracle had occurred. Daniel was decisively dead, and he stayed that way. First of all, you couldn’t bring the dead back—except as zombies, naturally. That sort of counted, since it was the first stage of vampirism.

But Daniela wasn’t a zombie. She was a ghost. That’s why she could see beyond the veil, see death, and land a clean hit on it. That’s why she had fallen so easily. Defeated, but not dead. Obviously. Death couldn’t die. And even if it could, no one would celebrate its demise. For as much as people thought they wanted that, it would cause total chaos. No one dying ever again while humanity kept multiplying like rabbits in a shrinking world.

Anyway.

It annoyed him a little. He had set everything up for the final battle to be as fitting as possible, though he wasn’t sure if Alex was a hero of old. Or, well, a heroine. It wasn’t very traditional, but he was willing to go with the times.

And just when he had managed to leave her alone, Daniela had to be stubborn and cling to the world of the living with whatever strength her soul had left. Just a little longer to fulfill her final purpose. Very heroic and all that, but still a bother. This was supposed to be a one-on-one fight. As always.

Dracula sighed, which in his dragon form sounded more like a strange growl. He hadn’t much liked those two brats stabbing him in the eye either. Didn’t hurt much. But it wasn’t pleasant either.

He decided to reveal himself to them without shifting out of dragon form for obvious reasons. He didn’t want them to panic and fall off into the abyss. That would make for an anticlimactic ending. Instead, he put the dragon on "autopilot," so to speak, and emerged from it like a creature from a shell. He stepped out with his clothes intact, drenched in blood from head to toe, just the way he liked it.

The girls sensed him and turned to face him, their hearts pounding. The wind lashed at them, making them shiver, though he knew most of their trembling came from being in his presence. Even though Daniela no longer had reason to fear death, that ship had sailed.

"Let’s get this over with," Dracula said, stepping forward, sword in hand, ready for the final battle. He’d prepared it as well as he could. There was nothing more he could do.

"You’re going to fight us in your normal form after all that show?" Daniela asked. "What gives? Is this a joke?"

"Yeah, well," he didn’t like it either, but this was for the best. He knew it: fighting in his human form was far more climactic than being defeated as a monster—if that was even possible. And if he defeated them in dragon form, it wouldn’t be the ultimate triumph of darkness over the warriors of light; it would seem like the obvious end to a one-sided fight. No, this was the only fitting way to conduct the final battle. Anyone should understand that.

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Alex seemed to.

"He’s not joking," she said. "He’s not toying with us. He’s playing by his own rules. He’s giving us something like a fair fight, a chance."

"They’re unwritten rules, okay?" Dracula said. "Don’t talk about it; it’s embarrassing. This has to have the proper gravity, you know? Mortal enemies can’t just clash in any setting. But look around you, dammit! You’re on a dragon. A freaking dragon, flying miles and miles above the ground. If you fall off, there won’t be anything left of you. You’ll be nothing more than a smear on the pavement—or wherever the hell you land, I don’t even know. We’re moving too fast for me to care, so let’s take this seriously. For real?"

"I don’t get why you’re doing this," Alex said. "Maybe after all these years, you’ve just gone mad. But I’m not turning down any chance at victory. If you want to gamble, go ahead. I’ll just make sure you regret it."

"Yes, yes, that’s the kind of talk I’m looking for. But seriously, forget it. That idea of me giving you a hand? Just… drop it. You don’t say that out loud. When an enemy, for example, just stands by while you fight someone else, going one by one, you pretend you’re in mortal danger and fight them one by one, got it? They’re unwritten rules, but they’re rules."

"Are you going to throw us off the dragon?" Daniela asked.

"No, that’d be boring and inappropriate. Let’s stop talking about this, dammit!" Dracula pointed at Daniela with a finger, the nail more red than black from all the blood.

"To set things straight… What your little friend isn’t telling you, Alex, is that she didn’t survive by the skin of her teeth. She’s dead. Even if you win this fight, she’ll just vanish. There’s no future where you two are together. It’s already over."

Speaking of unwritten rules, this sort of thing was usually learned after everything was over, at the most dramatic moment. But that only worked if he lost, and Dracula had no intention of being defeated.

Alex’s eyes widened, but she didn’t doubt him for a second. She had every reason to dismiss his words, but she didn’t. They confirmed the pessimism that came naturally to her, the most natural feeling from the very start.

"I see," Alex said, as though she’d known deep down all along.

"He’s right. Yes, he’s right… But at least I’m here to help you. One last fight. Let me rest in peace, knowing you’ll live."

Alex nodded slowly, and after a while, Dracula felt quite pleased. This was the kind of atmosphere for a final battle that he liked. Perfect!

Alex stepped forward, gripping her sword with both hands, assuming a fighting stance.

"I’ll live," she said. "I’ll live, no matter what."

The two girls charged at him like bullets, thousands of feet above the ground. Their weapons clashed once again, sparks flying.

This would end like the other times. Nothing had changed. Luck wasn’t on their side, though it wasn’t against them either. If they kept going like this, the only ending prepared was the one that happened when they tired out, dropped their guard, and became easy prey. Because Dracula didn’t tire. Once their defenses and counterattacks weren’t perfect, neutralizing Dracula’s strikes, there’d be nothing left but to die miserably.

But even if it ended like that, at least it would mean something. At least they would have given him the fight he’d sought after so many years of slumber, waking up in this strange world he barely knew, though only a thousand years had passed. Finally, everything would fit into place again, perfect and harmonious. Finally, he’d feel alive. And that—alive or dead, defeated or victorious—was worth everything. It was worth more than all the rest.

Or maybe not.

Daniela’s spear slid between his ribs, which were the only thing keeping it from plunging into his heart. Though that wouldn’t have done much anyway.

Bearing the pain, Dracula gritted his fangs and grabbed Alex by the neck, slamming her against the ground. Or rather, against his second body: his dragon form.

I’m giving you a chance, he thought. A chance to impress me, to show me what humanity is worth today, to do things right. But don’t think that makes me easy to beat. Don’t get cocky.

And With a Smile That Judas in Hell Might Be Proud Of, Part 6: END