When the old man discovered the mark on their door, he started up the mountain trail to the castle. He didn’t leave a note.
It was afternoon by the time he reached the crumbling fortress. He found a sunny spot in the courtyard and settled in to wait.
As the light faded, the ruin filled with mist. Suddenly the vampire stood before him as tall and implacable as Death himself.
“You’re not who I expecting,” the Count said, amused. “But perhaps you will do.”
“Yes,” the grandfather said, his knuckles growing white as he gripped the stake. “Perhaps I will.”

“Castle Ruin Wartenstein” by Kecko is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2019-2026 Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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