Above the Blood-Red Sky

My dear, snivelling, wretched Robert Montague,

Why did you flee by daylight—for “freedom”? Freedom in a straitjacket, behind locked doors? The doctors would have you believe you are safe from the monsters in your mind.

But safe, you shall never be. And freedom… is a fallacy.

Smell the fresh blood from which you were wrought. Recall the delight you took in the scraps I fed you—the plentiful feast of putrid fruit flies, the glossy green and bluebottles, crane flies and house flies, in swarming multitudes.

The spiders and rats I set before you were for your sustenance. Each life consumed brought you a step closer to the strength you so desperately crave.

You see, my dear R. M. Renfield, you are nothing without me.

Nothing but a fool.

One does not resign from eternity.

Always your Master,

Count Dracula

*

Thanks for reading!

This is for Harper's Dear John Rogue Challenge. It's a response to my other entry.