Dracula Ergo Terror!, Page 2

  “Can we help you with something, boy?” spoke the moustached man, his voice the first one Ergo had heard. He grimaced with pain as he slowly rose but then smiled at Ergo. “We don’t get many puppet-hybrids like yourself here. Is there something you’re looking for in the shop?”

  Ergo sighed then confessed, just a little bit nervously. “Oh, not really. I was just out of school and wanted to look about and… I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and I’m wondering what sort of creature you’re talking about?”

  The moustached man turned and looked at the shadowy man, as if wondering how much to disclose. Ergo, for his part, felt completely hapless.

  “Oh, I doubt you have much experience with this kind of thing,” spoke the first, who wobbled slowly over to a coffeepot and stood there holding his mug. “We have a number of books you might be interested in, though…”

  “You spoke of a… monster… terrorizing a village?”

  “Don’t be concerned, red-furred lad.” He scratched at his moustache with thick, sausage-like fingers. “This is far more than I’d expect you to know anything about. This monster is a vampire terrorizing a village in Eastern Europe where my daughter lives… I doubt you have much experience with this kind of thing.”

  Ergo thought back to the tremendous fight centuries ago and his fur bristled at memories of ancient symphony halls and undead public radio personalities. He didn’t want to let on about that, and yet deep inside, something goaded him to dig deeper and offer some kind of help.

  “My daughter, Inge, lives in a tiny village, off the grid and quite primitive, and spends her time making goat cheese or something silly like that. Initially she had a peaceful, uneventful life, until recently, when she started sending me letters.” The moustached man reached for a stack of envelopes banded with string and carefully removed a page. “Each letter described events transpiring that were more and more dark and sinister.”

  He paused as he poured coffee and stirred in artificial cream product that swirled cloudlike into the dark beverage.

  “Her last letter was the most… disturbing. Villagers are vanishing at an astonishing rate. Most recently it was Ernst the goat herder, who was snatched away by a mysterious bat-like creature at midnight… and given enough time, she fears that her own life will be taken away along with the few villagers who still remain. Many have fled, but for some they have nowhere to go.”

  The man in black had sat quietly while his rotund friend busied himself with coffee and nervous talk. But finally he spoke.

  “Take a seat.”

  Ergo did so and uncomfortably studied the mystery man. A faint series of scars traced a path across his face from forehead to jaw. His skin tone was also an odd, olive hue that appeared paste-like. Had something terrible happened to this man in the past?

  “My name is Angst. Henry here contacted me because I’m familiar with this kind of creature, and he has retained my services. I’ve dedicated my life to tracking down creatures like this one. Alas, age and a few too many injuries from encountering these incredible creatures have left me not as capable as I once was.

  “Yet there’s something about you, boy, which gives me a sense that you know a bit about this, perhaps more than you are letting us know…”

  Ergo was silent and simply listened to the hiss and gurgle of the percolating coffee.

  “Fate has brought you here today, hasn’t it? Either that, or rotten luck, ducking away from a tyrannical school system like you did…”

  “How did you know…?” Ergo was surprised, and noticed Angst smiling curiously. He nodded reluctantly. “Yes, strangely enough, I have met this kind of thing before. It was very freaky, honestly, and the only way I managed to escape with my life was with heavy firepower, an army of reprogrammed theme park androids, a military expert riding a dragon, and a magical paintbrush. I’m not so sure…”

  “The thing is,” Angst interjected, “you’ve faced these creatures before, and you know what to expect. And you,” he raised a gloved hand and pointed at Ergo, “could be of tremendous value to us.”

  “Sir, I have school…” Ergo pleaded pathetically, but Angst shook his head.

  “For one thing, it’s Friday, and I have private transportation, a quad-engine earth transport shuttle that can get us to Transylvania in a matter of hours. We can be done with this matter and have you back in time for your… educational classes on Monday. And to make this worth your effort, I would be willing to share my commission, in return for your assistance, and…” The old man trailed off and squinted at Ergo. “To be honest, don’t you think you’d have far more to learn from this experience? Far more than you’d ever learn in that insufferable government school. To really live, to face the impossible in a life or death situation…”

  “Since you put it that way, I do have some homework…”

  The man would not be swayed, however, and he rambled on about transportation, food, places to stay, and how he had everything taken care of. Ergo listened and for a moment felt a sad reminder of Roc’s words before his final departure. Here was a real-life experience, one in which he could do his best to step in and help people in need — that genuine life-learning that Roc had urged him to consider outside of the stifling electric lighting of state-mandated learning. All along, his head had been foolishly hooked on the stupid notion that he needed nothing more than the lemming-like world of public education, socialization, and stale academia. Instead, so far, he had really only experienced a world of humiliation and pain. Maybe accepting this task would be, in a way, validating Roc’s final words to him. Perhaps he was being dealt a weekend of a true learning opportunity…

  “Okay, I’ll do it, but on the condition that I do need to be back by Monday. I’m not giving up on public schooling just yet, even if it kills me. I’ll go with you, find out what’s going on, and see what I can do to help.”

  Angst nodded agreeably, tapping his gloved fingers together in a pyramid, his face a mask of focused, aggressive purpose. Henry, a far more passive and pliable kind, set down steaming mugs of coffee along with a platter of cookies, and late into the evening, the three discussed the mission ahead of them.