The Making of a Monster

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History has labeled me a monster. That ridiculous book, Dracula, was said to be patterned after my life. Let me
set the record straight here and now. I did not inspire Mr. Stoker in the creation of his famous vampire. There, I've said it; believe it. Those who insist on disparaging me call me Vlad the Impaler, Dracula, drinker of blood, Vlad the monster. But what about Vlad the victim? Vlad the betrayed? Vlad the heartbroken? No, you don't hear that story. History is very selective in what it tells. Any fool can put pen to paper and create a history that bears no resemblance to the truth. A tiny grain of truth mixed with a parcel of lies makes up my history. I think it's time the world heard the whole story. So forget everything you have heard about me. It's all a fable, anyway. Read my words and see if you don't feel a little compassion for me, a little empathy.

I was the oldest son and heir to the throne. My brother, Radu the Handsome, was a couple of years younger
than I. Forget those sissy looking pictures you have seen of me. Though not a handsome man, I had no trouble with the ladies. My brother, on the other hand, looked like a young god. Golden blonde hair to his shoulders, large blue eyes, and a muscular build caused the women to swoon when they beheld him. He had the features of an angel, and I loved him dearly. I taught him how to joust, ride, and use a sword. He may have had the features of an angel, but on the battlefield he was a demon. I was very proud of my little brother. My parents tried not to show favoritism, but they couldn't help themselves. To know my brother was to love him. I understood their partiality to him because I was also under his spell. So much so that I planned on sharing my kingdom with him when I inherited, though he didn't know this.

We were facing a crisis. We were at war with the Turks, but then we were always at war with the Turks (may
their souls rot in hell!) and they were getting the better of us. The Danube River stands between Wallachia and Turkey, and they were gaining much ground. We were on our side of the river, fighting to hold them back. We had never let them get so close before. God only knew what our fate would be if the Turks got the upper hand. They were a fierce, cruel race, and our lives would become a living hell. My family, especially, would face a life of torture and degradation.

My men and I were going over a map looking for an answer to our problem when a messenger came up. "Sire,
forgive my intrusion, but there is a man here who says he can help."

Turning, I saw a trusted friend awaiting an audience with me. "Ahmel, welcome." I motioned him over. "How
can you help us, friend?"

"Your father sent me out to get familiarized with the Turkish territory. I did better than that. One day I came
upon a Turkish warrior who had been thrown from his horse. His leg was injured badly, and I gave him a ride back to his camp. It turned out to be a blessing from God. The injured man was one of the king's sons, and I was given a hero's welcome. They accepted me as a friend and confidant. I've been living with them for these past six months and I know all of their battle plans. I've tried to get away before now but it wasn't possible. They have been driving you back, just as they planned. Their strategy on the battlefield is excellent. They have every strategic point covered except one. Let me show you."

My father had not shared this information with me, but I welcomed the news. With much excitement we let him
show us the point on the map where their weakness lay. I called Radu over and told him the good news. For the first time we had hope. I could feel the excitement that stirred in my knights as they listened to Ahmel. Oh, how we planned that night. Our spirits were soaring where only minutes ago they had been nearly broken. I gave my men their orders with a glad heart.

I put my arms around Radu and exclaimed, "Little brother, this is the moment we have been waiting for!
Tomorrow we celebrate victory. Plan on the best meal, the best wine, and the best women you have ever had!"

Radu smiled that angelic smile of his and said, "You know who I would consider the best woman for me?"

I frowned. He was referring to Anna, my concubine. He had openly lusted for her ever since I had found her.
Truth be told, she was more than just a concubine to me. I would never admit it to anyone, but I feared I was in love with Anna, and his ardor for her bothered me. Had it been any of my other concubines, I would have gladly given her to him.

"I'm afraid Anna is off limits, but any of my other concubines are yours for the asking," I told him.

"Why don't we ask Anna?" he persisted, not knowing the thin ice he was walking on. I felt the anger rise in me.
Frankly, I was afraid to ask Anna. As much as she professed to love me, I knew the effect Radu the Handsome had on women. He had but to crook his finger, and they came running to do his bidding. Then Radu laughed and everything was all right again. I laughed with relief. I had feared a confrontation and couldn't stand the thought of fighting with him. He was so special to me. I would have given my life for him.

Ahh--how we planned that night. We looked forward to the battle and the slaughtering of the Turks. They had
always been a menace to us. I wanted to rid the country of every last Turk forever. As for Ahmel, to him I bestowed many jewels, land, and women of his own. He was now a rich man.

I don't think any of us slept much that night, so filled with excitement we were. Before first light we gathered. I
looked around for Radu but couldn't find him. I smiled tolerantly. He had probably found himself a woman for the night--probably a couple of women, and was having a hard time getting out of bed. Well, let him have a few extra minutes of sleep. I was in charge here and had everything under control.

We rode out in our armor, myself and a couple of hundred anxious warriors.
We headed to the area in which we believed the Turkish dogs had left unprotected, ready to do battle with them. That's when all hell broke loose and I knew we were doomed.

We had just ridden over a hill when we ran into Turkish warriors spread out over the terrain for as far as the
eye could see, even closing the gap behind us. They had the element of surprise on their side. We had been so cocky and sure of ourselves that we had proceeded without caution. They attacked before we knew what had hit us. Ahh--before I even had my sword out of its scabbard, scores of my men lay dead on the ground. They must have had five men for every one of mine. I was lucky--unlucky-- that day, for the orders were to take me alive. My men weren't so lucky. They were slaughtered like dogs in the street.

A Goliathian sized Turkish warrior bound me with a rope and dragged me behind his horse. The rocks and
rough terrain tore the clothes from my body and cut my skin until was covered with blood and dirt. Then I remember the river, and having to fight for air when my head broke the surface, only to be plunged back under again. I didn't even resemble a man when we reached the Turkish prince, Omar. I lay in the dirt, unable to lift my head while he walked around me, laughing and taunting me.

"Don't tell me this is the fearsome Prince Vlad? He doesn't look so ferocious to me. He looks like a filthy rat
to me." Then he laughed and his warriors laughed with him. I felt my face burn with anger. Though the pain tore through my head, I lifted it and spat on his boots.

"That was a big mistake, my friend. I intend to see that you lick every drop off." Then his boot came down over
my nose, breaking it and crushing my cheek. Over and over he kicked me, my face, head, ribs, privates. Everything became a blur of pain. Then his warriors had a go at me. Turks didn't fight like honorable men. They did things to me as I lay there in the dirt that I won't even begin to describe to you. You think the impaling my victims is cruel? Oh yes, that part of my history is true. Impaling a man is a mercy compared to what they did to me.

Hours later, or what seemed hours, they led me down into the dungeon of the Turkish palace, and chained my
hands to the wall over my head. Several of my men were already there, along with strangers I didn't know. I was in so much agony that I couldn't even talk to them or tell them how proud I was of their bravery and loyalty to me. A feeling of doom settled over us as thick and black as mud.

I looked around myself at the filthy stone walls caked with dried blood, and dirt floors. Instruments of torture
filled the hellhole I found myself in, and the taste of ashes filled my mouth. I noticed cells on the far side of the room that extended beyond a stone wall which blocked my view of the rest of the dungeon. God only knew what was on the other side of it. I don't know how much time had passed when I was suddenly lifted by my arms and dragged out of the dungeon. A bucket of cold water was thrown over me. I gasped from the shock of the cold water as well as the pain it caused me. Before I could gather my wits, another bucket of water drenched me.

"Here, dry off and put these on," a Turkish guard barked at me. He threw a pair of dirty pants to me along with
a rag to dry off with.

I did as I was told, wondering what they had in mind. Once I had the pants on, I was led to the throne room in
the palace. Prince Omar sat on the throne, staring at me with dark, hostile eyes. I returned his stare of hatred and glanced around. I gasped when I saw Radu standing to the side of him.

"Radu!" I cried. "Have they hurt you?"

To my dismay, Radu and Omar laughed. Then I saw that Radu was dressed in his finery and looked untouched.
Were they holding him for ransom because he was the favorite? A thought passed my mind but I rejected it. Until--

"I'm sorry it came to this, brother," my precious brother said softly. "Alas, I'm just a greedy prince who had the
misfortune of being second born. This is the only path to the throne for me. I really do love you, so try to understand my feelings."

I couldn't believe my ears! Radu had betrayed me? Betrayed my whole country? It was more than I could bear.

"Don't take it so hard," he continued. "I'm willing to make a bargain with you. My good friend, Omar here,
is willing to let you go in my custody. We will help him rule together and bring peace to our countries. Of course, I inherit now instead of you, but I'm a generous man. What say you?"

"You traitorous dog!" I shouted. "Radu the Handsome? Radu the Traitor is more like it. You are scum,
and I no longer have a brother."

Grief, hatred, and a dozen other emotions welled inside me. I couldn't believe my angel brother, Radu,
had done this. It was unthinkable!

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Radu said. "I was hoping you would be reasonable about this.
So be it."

Radu rose and left the room. Omar stared at me and shook his head. "That was foolish," he told me. "Why do
you have to be so stubborn? You could have gone back to the castle and lived a life of luxury there. Your brother was willing to share with you. Tut, tut, what a fool you are."

"You flagitious son of a whore! Take me back to the dungeon!" I growled at him. Omar shook his head
once more and motioned for one of the guards to take me back.

Once back in the dungeon, they threw me into one of the cells with several other men I didn't know. I wept
long and bitterly. Firstly, I wept for the death of my brother, Radu the Handsome. That monster who betrayed us was not the brother I had loved all of my life. He was a vile monster, and I refused to acknowledge him as the brother I had always known. I howled my pain and rage and kept howling, even when the guard beat me with his club. I scre amed to the heavens that revenge would be mine. One way or another, I would avenge my people and kill that son of a whore. Finally my fellow prisoners started grumbling, telling me to shutup. Despair welled up in me, and I let sleep overtake me so as to block out the pain. My sleep was short lived because my captors decided to make an example of me. They pulled me from the cell and proceeded to torture me and beat me in ways I had never contemplated. The rack stretched my tortured body and the boot ravished my feet. I survived the agony by dwelling on my revenge. I never let myself believe that revenge would not some day be mine. My soul cried out for revenge, and my mind hungered for that day. It was the only thing keeping me going. In a short time my cellmates had come to the conclusion that I was demented. I did nothing but scream my hatred and cry until I was hoarse. The beatings and torture never did hurt me as much as Radu had hurt me. I couldn't get over it. It festered inside me like a malignancy.

One night when I was screaming my rage, my cellmates decided to shut me up once and for all. Three of them
advanced on me. Even though my body was broken and torn, my anger got me through it. I had so much hate and anger festering in me that I used these men as an outlet. I vent my rage on them and fought like five men. I was out of control and out of my mind, too, I think. Hobbling, though I was, I was no pushover for them. A red haze covered my line of vision, and I was out for blood. I pretended these men were Radu the Traitor, and I fought with an unequaled fury. These men outnumbered me, but they had tasted the torture devices, too. They didn't have my all consuming hatred to fuel their fight. We must have been quite a sight. Five tortured men, limping and dragging our useless limbs around, throwing what punches we could. In the end, the men backed away from me, terror in their eyes. They had never seen anyone fight as I had fought. If they thought me demented before, now they were sure of it.

I don't know how much time passed before something happened to change my entire life. Our guard was the
Goliath sized brute who took special pleasure in tormenting me. He was my torturer and he savored the job. I was as brave as a man could be under the circumstances, but no man could have withstood what I did without crying out. That was the part he relished. I could see it in his eyes and in the smile that spread across his face every time I screamed. How I hated him. After he finished, most times, I would sit and think about my Anna. I wondered what had become of her. l remembered Radu's lust for her. Then I would block it out of my mind because I couldn't stand to think of Radu bedding her.

It was such a time as this, that night. I saw a shadow pass by my cell door. I stared and tried to see who it
was. Thinking I had only imagined it, I saw it again. Though pain racked my body, I felt myself compelled to drag myself over to the door of our cell. That was the first time I saw him. A tall man, dressed completely in black, stood on the other side o f the door. He wore a hooded cape that kept his face in shadow so that I couldn't make out his features. Though he spoke not a word, my mind was filled with his thoughts.

"Prince Vlad. I am honored to meet you," the voice in my head said. "I believe we have a common goal, and
that I can help you."

I stood there, dumbfounded, and wondered if the beating I had just received had robbed me of my senses.

"No, you are not crazy, my friend. For these many nights now I have heard you scream your hatred and need
for revenge. I understand these feelings, and I am here to offer you my services, if you want them."

"Who are you?" I whispered, trying to see beneath his hood.

"My name is Manther, and I was once a Wallachian warrior like yourself. I have seen how you were betrayed,
and I want to see you get your revenge. How serious are you about getting it?" he asked, still only a voice in my head.

"I would sell my soul to get my revenge, I growled.

He laughed. "You may very well get your wish. If you are willing to give up your humanity and everything
you have known before, I can open up a whole new world to you."

I was skeptical. "Quit playing word games with me, and get to the point," I snarled. I felt he was playing with me.

"Very well." He reached up and pulled his hood from his face so that I could see him. His face was pale and
smooth. It was his eyes, though, that drew my attention. They were red! I felt I was facing a demon, and I have to admit, I was scared.

"Some may call me a demon," he read my mind, "but I am most commonly referred to as a wampyr."

"Wampyr?" I repeated. "They are fairytales. What's your game?"

He sighed. "Why do we always have to prove what we are. Can't you just look at me and believe? How do
you explain my voice in your head or me reading your mind? I can give you eternal life," he went on. "You want your revenge? It will be easy if you accept the wampyr kiss. I'm afraid if you stay here, you will be killed. Your guard will eventually get tired of torturing you, or your body will not survive much more abuse. What say you?"

I was horrified at the idea!

"Before you answer, watch," he said.

A few moments passed, then my guard walked over. Manther stared at him in silence. To my astonishment, the
guard walked straight to Manther and threw his head back, exposing his neck. Manther checked to see if I was watching, and with a snarl, sunk his fangs into the guard's neck. I couldn't tear my eyes from the scene that was being played out before me. I found it morally abhorrent, and yet, I was elated to see the Turk get his. My emotions were in a turmoil. While part of me was horrified, another part rejoiced.

Manther turned to me. His mouth was covered with blood. His eyes were half closed, and he seemed to be
swooning. "He still lives. Do you want to finish him off?" He pulled the guard's sword from his scabbard and handed it to me.

With a howl I slashed at him through the bars. Frustrated because the bars separated us, I kept slashing and
stabbing until Manther stilled my hand.

"Enough. He is quite dead. Now, what is your decision? Death or eternal life?"

"Life!" I all but shouted.

Manther gazed at me, and suddenly, he vaporized into a green colored smoke and appeared next to me in the
cell. My cellmates had witnessed me killing the guard. When they saw Manther appear in the cell, they started screaming and pressed away from him.

"Hissss--quiet!" he ordered as he advanced on them.

Terrified, they quit their screaming and watched with wide eyes.

"No, don't kill them! They have suffered just as I have."

Manther turned to me. "Then their memory will have to be wiped clean. We can't have them repeating what
they have seen." He turned back to them and it wasn't long before the men fell over into a deep sleep.

"Now, it's your turn," Manther said, putting his hands on either shoulder. "This won't be bad," he said. "Do
not be afraid."

I was petrified! I closed my eyes and waited. The wait was a short one. Suddenly his teeth entered my neck
and I felt a sharp sting. Then my senses were reeling, and I was experiencing feelings so sensual, so blissful, I lost sense of time. I was caught up in feelings I had never experienced the equal to. Even sex, it had never been this overwhelmingly pleasurable. Minutes, hours, days later he released me, and I slumped over. Then he took his fingernail and opened a thin line in his wrist.

"Drink," he said.

At first I fought him, but once I tasted the blood that ran down his arm, I was lost. I feasted on his wrist,
and soon I could feel his pulse beating in my throat. I pulled and swallowed in time to his pulse beating, until he finally pushed me away.

"Sleep, and when you awaken, you will be wampyr!" Manther told me.

I felt so weak; sleep fell over me immediately.

Awareness came instantly. All of my senses were magnified a hundredfold, and I saw things anew. I was in awe
of what I felt, saw, and heard, but I didn't have time to stay and revel in it. My body was healed as if nothing had been done to it. I woke the other prisoners and kicked down the cell door as easily as if it had been made of grass.

"Go," I told them. "Get out of here!" They scattered as fast as they were able.

I ran from the dungeon, looking for Prince Omar. I could hear his heart beating, as if he were in the same
room with me. How I determined this was his heart beat and now someone else's, I don't know. I smiled and followed the sound. It led me to his private quarters. When I kicked the door down, his eyes widened in shock.

"You? How?"

"Hello, Omar." I smiled at him. I had no idea what my powers were, but I did know I had undreamed of
strength. I wished Manther had explained all of that to me, but I wasn't worried. Omar opened his mouth to call for help. I hurried to him. Hurried? I FLEW to him! I moved faster than the eye could see. It surprised me so much that I almost knocked him down. So, speed was another power I had. It was nice to know. I reached him and clamped my hand around his throat. His mind was crying out with panic--and disgust. He had seen me move. He felt my preternatural strength. He knew death was staring him in the face, and his mind conjured up all sorts of deaths. I planted an image in his mind (I wasn't really sure I could do that; instinct guided me) of the wampyr kiss. Oh, how he squirmed then, and his panic was resplendid. I threw my head back and laughed. The room vibrated with my laughter, and the harder I laughed, the more his panic grew. I loved it! Suddenly impatient, I lowered my mouth to his neck. I could smell the salty scent of his blood flowing in his veins. My nostrils flared, and I sniffed up and down his neck. I was a virgin until that moment. His blood ravished my body and soul. I was in the clutches of a blood lust that didn't let up until he was thoroughly drained and quite dead. Ah--sweet revenge! I was totally sated.

And now for Radu. I found I could travel great distances in no time at all. I simply thought about turning into
a bat and behold! I turned into a bat and flew all the way to my own castle. I found Radu in my room. Radu lay sleeping naked. Anna lay with him. It was almost more than I could bear. This was as bad as Radu's original betrayal. My Anna. His arms encircled her as they slept. I realized she hadn't much choice in the matter. He would have had her one way or another. As I stood there looking at them, tears running down my face, Radu stirred. He must have sensed my presence because he opened his eyes and stared at me. I met his stare and didn't really care that he saw my tears and anguish. Then the son of a whore stretched and smiled at me.

"Welcome home, brother. I see you decided to accept my proposition. I'm glad."

Anna stirred, and then she was awake. "Vlad!"

I saw the fear in her eyes. She didn't know what my reaction would be seeing her thus.

"Leave us," I told her.

She hurriedly got out of the bed and grabbed a robe. Radu watched her and then looked at me. It hurt me for
him to see her nakedness, and he knew it.

"I'm really glad to see you," he told me. He got out of the bed and walked toward me, naked. He wanted to
make sure I saw the magnificence of his body and to know he had been naked in the bed with Anna. My anger was a living thing: a malignancy, black and foul. When he got within a few inches of me, I reached out and caught him by the throat. Snarling, I ripped his throat and drank his traitorous blood. I gulped it down and ripped and tore at him like a wild animal. But I didn't kill him. Oh no, that would have been too easy. I brought him to the point of death. Then I had a woman come in and nurse him back to health. Once he regained his health, I ripped his throat out again. Over and over again we played out this scenario. Sometimes I got carried away and had to give him a tiny drop of my blood so that he would heal.

This went on for five years. By this time I was tired of Radu. I had done almost everything I could to
make his last years a living hell. I tired of the game. On that last night I went to see him. He still used my old room as his own. He was not the same man he once was. His looks and charm were long since gone. On that final night, I gave him the wampyr kiss. God, how he fought me. He had rather had his throat ripped out than have me make him into a monster. He was like a babe in my arms. I took his blood at my leisure with him screaming and begging. Then I made him take my blood.

He lay back in my arms, unable to move. "Now I'll get you," he whispered. "You just made a big mistake."

"Oh, I think not," I told him.

Dawn approached. I called my men and had him carried outside. His wrists were bound with leather thongs
held down to iron stakes in the ground. He was bound spread eagle in the same way. I stood at a window in the castle watching. I had brought several heavy quilts to cover myself with so that the sun's rays wouldn't harm me. When the first rays of the sun hit him, he started screaming. His body was burning and blistering from that little bit of morning sun. I tried to stay and watch, but my own skin was turning red and burning, even though I stood under layers of quilts. I hurried to my lair in the dungeon and got in my coffin.

"Vlad, I beg you. Ahh--the pain! Please Vlad!"

Believe it or not, I cried when I heard his screaming. I remembered the little boy he had been and the handsome
youth that all the maidens had fallen in love and into bed with. My heart ached for that Radu, but my mind still raged against Radu the Traitor. I heard his final cries and mind linked with him when he finally died. I wept bitterly for the last time in my long life. Never again would I love like that.

My Anna, she was afraid of me and would have nothing to do with me. I went to her that first night after I had
struck out against Radu. She had stayed huddled up in a corner, crying, begging me not to hurt her, and especially not to touch her. She feared my touch and loathed what I had become.

My parents, the king and queen, never recovered from Radu's betrayal. So I had lost everything and every one
important to me. Even my humanity. Is it any wonder that I became a cruel and hard master? Look at what I suffered from my own brother. All the powers in the world would never make up for what I lost. And by all things that are sacred, somebody was going to pay for it! Everybody would pay! I lost everything that was dear to me and now nothing was dear to me.

What do you think, now? Do I sense pity? Do you understand why I became so hardened against humanity?
I'm a creature who hasn't known love or friendship in centuries. For that alone, I deserve some compassion. Now you know the truth. Put this in your history books. 



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