[ The light flickers back on. Dracula's grasp on his son's shoulder tightens.
(There had been a howl like that the night of Lisa's death, made by a wolf the size of a horse, and the world had awoken to a bishop's corpse crucified on the cross of his own church, to HE IS NOT HERE written in blood on the steps to the altar.)
There will be other humans, in his long life. They would have left him one day regardless of this. His mouth opens to say every word that he was told after Lisa's death. Those useless, empty words that could never cut through the grief of finding a tiny, precious light after centuries of solitude and seeing it extinguished.
And so he says none of them. The words that leave his mouth sound foreign to even him, as if he were under the same spell as the humans. ]
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(There had been a howl like that the night of Lisa's death, made by a wolf the size of a horse, and the world had awoken to a bishop's corpse crucified on the cross of his own church, to HE IS NOT HERE written in blood on the steps to the altar.)
There will be other humans, in his long life. They would have left him one day regardless of this. His mouth opens to say every word that he was told after Lisa's death. Those useless, empty words that could never cut through the grief of finding a tiny, precious light after centuries of solitude and seeing it extinguished.
And so he says none of them. The words that leave his mouth sound foreign to even him, as if he were under the same spell as the humans. ]
What would you give, to keep them?