Black Heart

By Munteanu Marian-Gabriel
FLSC, ER2, 2nd year

T
he long-awaited carriage finally arrives at the front of Dreadfrough Castle,
where the ball organized by Count Hemwick will take place in the full moon
of the following night. Hanrietta, who turned out to be one of the count's
first guests and who plans to stay at the castle for a few days to discuss the death of
her father, who was a good teacher and friend of the count, descends gracefully from
the carriage. Hanrietta is recommended by the youth that anyone who meets her might
notice and also by the clothes that emanate a scent of opulence. The fine long cherry
silk dress, the charming long black hair, the round, pale, porcelain-like face without
any imperfections, the emerald eyes that match her earrings, and the soft lips that
stand out easily make Hanrietta in anybody’s eyes to be likened to an angelic being.
On the way down, she is greeted by one of the earl's most faithful servants,
Crowley, whom she has known since she was a student at the University of Forgeveil.
Forgeveil, not far from Dreadfrough, is where Hanrietta spent most of her 27 years.
When he sees her, Crowley enthusiastically descends the steps at the main entrance
to the castle :
- One day more and you’d have been late, my dear Hanrietta! I haven't seen you in
years, but I can say that you have remained just as gallant and impeccable.
- How was the ball going to start without me? Impossible! Thank you for the warm
welcome, she said with less enthusiasm than the old acquaintance, but I hope you can
help me with my luggage and also lead me to my room.
- Of course! For this I was commissioned by the count himself.
Crowley took the heavy luggage and her hard oak sharp-handled ubrella and set off
for the castle as the coachman faded more and more from the autumnal background
dominated by a thick mist that could be pierced with a knife.
- How much time can change, Hanrietta said, I still remember as if it were yesterday
the moments in which my father was bringing me here offering me the opportunity to
explore each corners of this immense castle, while he was scolding Hemwick because
he did not know how to pronounce "horse-drawn carriage" in German. I bet he doesn't
know even now.
- Do you really think he couldn’t pronounce it? Or didn’t want to?, Crowley asks
curiously.
- I remember him as being very stubborn, but especially I remember the anger in his
eyes when he was shouting that the German language is very difficult and useless. He

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was being so funny. Too bad he had to learn it because he had to do business
regarding things about inheritance in Germany.
- I've been serving the count for seven years, but I didn't know that about him. I guess
every day you learn something new.
Crowley and Hanrietta arrive in her room where they part ways because the ball will
take place the next day. She falls asleep being subjugated by the uncontrollable
thought that she will meet the count.
The next morning, Hanrietta is called to take the breakfast with Hemwick. She
meets the count at the end of the stairs in the dining room. The count has a mysterious
personality, and he does not hesitate to show his love for the cape he wears. He is tall,
splendidly displaying dark colors through his old but fragrant clothes, which he
proudly wears, with downed brown hair and a face that does not show the 39 years he
will have to turn in the Spring, a sign that old age has not yet reached Dreadfrough. His
wide smile and calm voice exude the same charisma that Hanrietta felt 21 years ago
when she came here to visit with her father. Hemwick, looking her straight in the eye,
said in a warm tone:
- Welcome, Hanrietta! I hope Crowley did his best not to bore you. Come here, I was
looking forward for you to return to Dreadfrough. How beautiful you grew!
Hemwick embraces her with his strong arms, hugging her to his chest as if she were a
last chance to live for him, to which Hanrietta, in a playful voice, says with a laugh:
- Hemwick, say “pferdekutsche”!
After a short laugh, a veil of sadness can be seen on the count's face:
- I miss your father's presence as much as you miss it. I know that I won’t ever find a
better friend than your father was to me.
- I still dream of him hugging me to his chest the same way you do. You are very
similar in some aspects.
After they had breakfast as they relived their memories together, the count offered her
a tour of the castle, also introducing the young lady to important prom guests. Time
was running out, and the ball was about to start. One of the main organizers takes the
floor before the music could start :
- Welcome, dear guests! We hope you do not feel any worries and that you will enjoy
this event organized by his Excellency, Count Hemwick!
The orchestra was made up of various instruments to give flavor to the atmosphere of
the ball. Violins, cellos and basses delighted by people with burning eyes were about to
resound both in the huge prom hall and outside of Dreadfrough Castle. It was going to
be a night like no other.
Once arrived there, Hanrietta mingled with the crowd of people waltzing on the
feeble tones of the instruments, when all of a sudden, she got clasped firmly by her
hips, hearing from behind in her right ear: “We are dancing!” Hanrietta was silent,
observing the count, who this time seemed to have a very pale face as if it were dried
of his youth. They begin the dance, matching as they could be likened to two pieces of

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puzzle that have been lost but have found each other again long after. Hanrietta's
smile moved the count's soul, and at the same time, the fragrance enveloped in
Hemwick's cloak, his physique, and his status as being a self-made man attracted
Hanrietta more and more to him and to the desire that his presence to be around her
permanently. Their eyes were glowing as they were smiling at each other. Hanrietta
did not notice the change in the face of the count, her being enchanted by the
mysterious and gallant attitude she felt from him. After a while, when the music had
adopted low and slow tones, Hemwick walked away, running through the crowd
outside the dance hall. Hanrietta, frightened, thinking something is wrong, shouted
after him, but received no answer. She leaves the room taking the umbrella with her
and finds herself in the garden of the castle where she hears growls resembling a
ferocious beast. She wanders into the labyrinth of the huge garden, searching for the
count and at the same time being curious and frightened about the growls that were
heard from the center of the green labyrinth. At some point, tired, she reaches the
source of the noise, where, with a straight blank look, she surprises Crowley, who
were unrecognisable from how he looked yesterday. He had a highly developed body
that appeared to be completely covered with fur, yellow eyes in which the very bright
and white moon could perfectly reflect. His purple velvet vest has been almost totally
shreded, the sleeves of his shirt had cracked and he had big claws, his head
resembling one of a ferocious wolf.
- Hanrietta! Don’t come closer! I- I- Arghhh! I do- don’t think I can controlll myself!
- What happened to you, Crowley?
Hanrietta approaches the monster and when the werewolf goes to grab her, two shots
are heard from the other side of the empty space in the center of the garden. The next
minute, Crowley was lying down on the ground, with two huge wounds in the head of
his hairy, bleeding chest. His drools flowed from his mouth as he was yelling loudly,
seeing the dreadfully punishment that death would bring him. The man who saved
Hanrietta's life is none other than count Hemwick who had intervened just in time.
Hanrietta jumped into his arms, observing his bleeding lips.
- I can't help myself, Hanrietta. I am doomed.
- I suppose you wouldn't have had any other option but to shoot him, my dear count.
- Apparently Crowley refused to live with this curse that was eating him even before
he arrived at the castle. I knew clearly of his problem, and I decided to help him by
proposing to him to serve me in exchange for the social isolation that Dreadfrough
offered him. On full moon nights, I locked Crowley in the cellar so that the other
servants wouldn't find out about his cruel curse, about him being a werewolf. This
night he didn't want that, and he came here, where you were as well.
- I was so afraid, Hemwick. You saved my life.
- I love you, Hanrietta!, says he while taking off his mantle
Hemwick kisses her with ardor, both of their cheeks being bright red and their hearts
beating at the same time.

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- Your arrival here tonight is not to attend the ball. You're gonna have to kill me.
Hanrietta kissed him again, weeping bitterly. Before she asks why she would do such
thing, the pupils of Hemwick's eyes become of an intense red and then he leaps at the
young woman's neck, thus sticking his sharp fangs in her flesh and delighting himself
with her pure blood. Hanrietta finds the strength to push him away from her:
- What's wrong with you?? You too are a monster?! You... you're a vampire.
- I've suffered for years because of this. If I don't have new blood, it gets worse. I can't
kill myself. I can’t carry this curse anymore! That's why I need you, Hanrietta! You're
the only one who can do it. This is the only way I can force you not to love me. You have
nobody to love in me!
- There must be an antidote, Hemwick! That's impossible!
- Thank you for the wonderful moments you have given me tonight.
- No, Hemwick! Please!
The count leaps for the second time to Hanrietta, at which point the lady reflexively
grabs the umbrella and deeply pierces the vampire's heart. Then he suddenly falls to
the ground, easily starting to turn into a dense gray powder.
- My dear, Hanrietta... thank you.
Purple-red blood pumps out of his chest as he lies lying on the ground with his head
on Hanrietta's frail arm. Her flowing tears drop on the cheek of the vampire who in his
last breath says:
- Dreadfrough is yours... the chest in my bedroom... last will.
After all this, Hanrietta returns to her room, waiting for the ball to finish. In the
morning, she informs the servants that Crowley and Hemwick are no longer there and
what happened last night. At first, they were surprised, but then they felt a relief,
informing the new Countess of the cruelty and indifference with which they were
treated by the count. Hanrietta is promised that she will be served until the end of her
life. After a while, her face becomes of a barren pale, similar to Hemwick's face,
realizing what really happened in the labyrinth on prom night. She notes that the curse
she thought had escaped the count from will continue until she finds her end just like
him.