Dracula was regarded as truly evil by the majority of those who dared to speak of him during his extended life. It was well known that he was more powerful than even the stories told. In the deepest of night, in many villages near the castle, shadows would swoop into the homes. Then, in the morning, loved ones were missing. Hundreds of years this continued until generational fury arose.

 

The villagers all banned together early in the morning outside the castle. They brought men, women, children and even their farm dogs. Everyone held a torch or a pitchfork, prepared to put an end to the terror.

Before knocking on the door, it opened slowly and eerily. The men pointed and all the dogs entered first. One was hesitant for a moment. 

“Dragos, go!” commanded one of the villagers.

Dragos was pampered his entire life. Now, they expected him to put himself in danger. He sauntered forth to the door, tail stuck between his legs. The yelps of the other dogs stuck him right where he was. They were from deep within the castle, so the villagers assumed the immediate entryway was secure.

Hundreds of villagers entered the castle before the door slammed shut and darkness was greeted by slivers of sun through cracks in the wall. Dracula descended rapidly on each infiltrator, draining them of every drop of blood within seconds.

 

Backed against the door was Dragos, cowering. Dracula lowered himself to the floor, transforming back from monster to man.

“You did not come here for this.” he patted Dragos on the head. “You can go.”

Dracula waved a finger at the door and it swung wide. Dragos realized his owner was among those slaughtered. This new man didn’t seem so bad.

Dragos’ tail lifted and wagged as Dracula’s back was turned.

“You can go.” repeated the vampire.

Dragos brushed his head against Dracula’s hand, looking to be pet. Dracula backed away and transformed into something monstrous, the sight of which would likely stop a man’s heart. Growing in size, his body moved into the sunlight brought in by the open door. Dragos noticed the burning skin and moved to shut the door, biting the handle and pulling.

Dracula returned to his usual form and stood for a moment, perplexed. Without another word to the animal, he flew deep into the castle, back to rest. Dragos followed slowly, sniffing and exploring along the way.

Over the next few years, Dragos would greet Dracula every time he returned to the castle at night. During the day, he would explore and ‘protect’ his new master.

Dracula would bathe Dragos whenever his fur grew too grotesque to look at, and he didn’t enjoy it. He would often close his own door if Dragos was too loud for him to sleep.

On a particularly fruitful night for the vampire’s feeding, some new villagers decided to stage an ambush. They entered the castle, knowing Dracula was away. Dragos ran to the door at the sound to find them. He leapt to protect his owner, but was swatted away and sliced by a pitchfork. 

Dracula heard the yelp of Dragos and released his victim, flying home as quickly as possible. In a blink, he departed forty villagers and knelt beside his dog.

Only one option could make him whole.

Dracula sunk his teeth into Dragos’ whimpering neck, unsure whether it was even possible.

Hours passed before Dragos began to heal. He popped up from where he lay and brushed up against the relieved Dracula.

 

Many years later, the villagers got advanced weaponry and ambushed Dracula while Dragos was in the yard. He entered the castle hearing the door shut, and found nothing but Dracula’s clothing.

Dragos curled up into Dracula’s robe and awaited his master’s return, however long it would take.

He knew he would always be Dracula’s Dog.

A time came when Dracula’s Dog grew bored of his painfully empty castle. Though he planned to return some day, he briskly exited through the front door, where he stopped to remember his first time entering. Visions of his master flooded his puppy mind. Tremendous sadness and loss filled his heart. Standing in the doorway, he growled. He growled at the castle. He growled at himself. He growled, hoping Dracula would just return.

Dracula’s Dog left his frustrations at the castle entryway. He marched down the hill and through the town below. It had modernized quite a bit since he first lived there. Many blood donors he attracted over the many years bowed as he strolled down the street, honoring the adorable dog they worshiped. Others hid, heeding the legends of the vampiric menaces of the castle.

Away from the town past an expansive field of fading green and stone ruins sat a poorly kept graveyard. Headstones crumbled away into piles of rubble below. Most of the etched lettering was gone, weathered away. Dracula’s Dog stepped up to each of the graves, feeling drawn to them. A bouquet of flowers left by a loved one had rolled away from the wind. Dracula’s Dog didn’t know where it belonged, so he spent some time giving a single flower to each plot.

Placing the final flower, Dracula’s dog heard a voice approaching, as well as slow, methodical drumming that was almost too low to be audible. He was curious, but instinctually ran to hide behind a mausoleum.

“This is it, TUM. Dracula’s grave. This is why I dragged you all the way here, big guy.” Dracula’s Dog viewed around the side of the exquisite stone, nearly barking in excitement hearing that this was where his master laid to rest. Two large men were looking at the mausoleum; one tall with a long trench coat and the other a monster of a human.

“This?” TUM probed, coming from before the Dracula’s fame had spread.

“I gotta be honest here. This is a major shot in the dark. I don’t know if this guy’s even in here. If he is, I’m not a hundred percent sure I could raise him, powerful as he was.” Tombs confessed.

Dracula’s Dog, listening in, leapt out from behind the mausoleum and flew towards Tombs. Neither of the men budged. Desperate to reunite with his master, he bit Tombs’ coat and pulled him towards the entrance.

“Hold on there, little guy.” Tombs chuckled and waved his mace at Dracula’s Dog, intending to allow him to speak. Dracula’s Dog felt a tickle, but no effect. “Yeah I didn’t think that would work.” Tombs laughed and pet the pup, being friendly along with analyzing the material around him.

Tombs’ brow hardened and he grabbed the robe, trying to pull it off of Dracula’s Dog, who in return vanished for a moment to bite the tall man in the neck. TUM beat his drum, blasting Dracula’s Dog and Tombs across the field, followed by the rubble from the floor and many headstones.

Dracula’s Dog raised from the floor and flew to TUM, biting him on the neck as well. Then, he backed off and stood at the mausoleum entry, now protecting it. He waited, growling as Tombs rejoined the standoff, hoping they would both be turned quickly. Tombs gave a signal for TUM to relax and spoke to Dracula’s Dog.

“That’s not going to work, little guy. He’s already dead, and me… I got somethin else goin on.” 

Dracula’s Dog calmed down and realized the two meant him no harm. When Tombs approached again, however, he backed away, protecting the robe he wore.

“Ahh, I won’t try to take that again. I just wanted to be certain it was authentic. And that it is.” Tombs put up both hands, showing the pup that he was not coming for the robe again. He passed by and put a hand against the mausoleum door. “Let’s see if we can wake your daddy.”

The mausoleum door opened slowly. Night seemed to fall that very moment, but within the darkness of the structure was nothing. Dracula’s Dog barked into the empty room angrily as TUM and Tombs backed away. They stood waiting for him for a while, each knowing the appearance of true pain.

“What do you say we take him with us?”

“The dog?” TUM asked.

“Yes, the dog. We came here for his master, but he’s got all his master’s powers. Even better, he doesn’t talk.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, TUM. You hate talking.”

“He can’t chew my drumsticks.”

“Of course not, big guy.”

A few more minutes passed before Dracula’s Dog came walking out of the mausoleum.

“Hey, vampire dog. You wanna join up with us and kill a demon?”

Dracula’s Dog ignored the question and began walking away from the graveyard.

“You can chew on his drumsticks.” Tombs pointed to TUM’s bones and skulls. Dracula’s Dog raised from the ground and flew to TUM, immediately gnawing on one of his drumsticks.

“Good boy.”

“We go fight Beemon now?”

“Agh, not just yet big guy. Dracula’s out there. I got a sense about it.” Tombs reminded TUM about the target of their current mission. Then he turned to Dracula’s Dog as they walked down a dirt road, “You’d like that, huh?”

Dracula’s Dog grumbled softly, floating with one of TUM’s drumsticks held in his mouth proudly. He was frustrated at their progress. Months had gone by and several countries explored where Tombs had leads on the vampire king. Dracula’s Dog knew he couldn’t find Dracula alone, yet still felt held back by his companions who were bound to the ground. He then wondered whether that was even the case. 

“WOOF!” Dracula’s Dog handed TUM his drumstick, walked ahead and turned around to face T & T. “WOOF WOOF WOOF.”

“Chatty.” Tombs laughed dryly.

“What you want?” TUM asked, being the primary target of the barking.

Dracula’s Dog flew up and down quickly, then landed and walked slowly to demonstrate how sluggish their pace was as a unit. He flew so far in a few seconds that T & T couldn’t see him past the horizon. Then he returned in the next few seconds with blood on his fangs.

“I see.” Tombs translated for TUM. “He thinks we’re slow… and that you’re clumsy.”

“Clumsy!?” TUM readied a drumstick at his belly.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Tombs put on a sincere face and continued to jest. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“Ergh.” TUM grunted and calmed down, realizing Tombs was kidding.

Dracula’s Dog kept barking, urging the two to figure out quicker transportation.

“Next stop is Big City. Good shot we find him there. Let’s do this TUM…” Tombs approached TUM and waved his mace. His body became a black dust that flew into the giant’s mouth and his eyes opened wide and flooded with black.

TUM opened his mouth and a screaming, screeching disembodied Tombs shouted from it. “Point your belly at the ground, big guy.”

Even Dracula’s Dog was a little scared by the voice. He wondered if Tombs could have given instructions beforehand to avoid it. TUM positioned his body so that his drum faced downwards.

Again, Tombs’ voice emerged in the most unsettling way possible. “Turn just a smidge left, and have at it.”

TUM did so, and the blast from his drum shot him so far he couldn’t see the ground anymore. He passed through clouds and looked straight into the upper atmosphere. As he began to descend, he saw the ocean beneath him, and land nowhere around. Dracula’s Dog caught up with ease and followed behind, but had to dodge a shockwave as TUM struck the drum once more.

After a few beats of the drum, Big City came into view. The famous heights of the Cloud Corridor were at Tumbo’s level as he passed by, heading into the suburbs on Tombs’ order. A tap of the drum allowed for a soft landing outside a middle class neighborhood. Dracula’s Dog landed beside and Tombs reformed outside of TUM’s body calmly.

“Never again.” demanded TUM.

“You think I wanna be inside you?” Tombs said, then pointed at Dracula’s Dog, smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Not my fault our friend here’s a freak.”

Dracula’s Dog had a sense that something was nearby. He was confident it was his master, his tail began to wag excitedly.

“Yeah, I feel it too. Relax a beat, this don’t feel right.” Tomb’s said, examining the area as they strolled.

On their journey, towns and suburbs usually would react to the sight of the trio. TUM was the main source of attention. Typically, people would grab their children and run inside, locking their doors and covering their windows, peeking through the peephole or uncovered sections of the windows where they felt they wouldn’t be seen.

In this neighborhood, people weren’t just not reacting negatively. They weren’t reacting at all. Everyone around was just staring at the wanderers. Parents and children stood as if they were playing outside, but they acted as if they weren’t even alive.

Then, Dracula’s Dog noticed something. On each person’s neck were two puncture wounds… bite marks. He knew with absolute certainty then that they were in the right place.

People began to walk towards the trio as they approached the last house on the street. It was just like all the others, though they knew it belonged to the one they sought. Dracula’s Dog flew between two neighbors that were closing in, leaving Tombs and TUM to fend for themselves as the carnage began.

Dracula’s Dog flew out of sight, hidden behind the horde of vampiric suburbanites. Tumbo didn’t care to spare a life, and Tombs seemed all but eager to dispatch as many of them as he could. As the brawl began, it was apparent that these were no simple vamps. These were Thralls. They were familiar, having traveled with Dracula’s Dog. Whenever needed, he often would create powerful Thralls to get the trio food by any means necessary. The transformation was drastic; their muscles grew larger and their intellect skyrocketed. Once the group was fed,  he’d release them back to human life. But he was only ever able to turn one at a time to be a Thrall. This many attacking T&T was a true showcase of Dracula’s limitless ability.

Tombs’ approach to combat was intriguing to Tumbo. Where Tumbo pounded his drum and blasted multiple vampires into the distance before they got near, Tombs waited for them to get incredibly close before doing anything at all. A large woman in a pantsuit reared back and bared her teeth. Just before chomping down on Tombs’ neck, he wiggled his mace. Matching the rate of motion he had, her body wiggled. All the Thralls around stood back as they saw her torso and neck expanding quickly. Tombs stepped toward her and delivered a solid kick to the stomach. From her mouth, ears, eyes and nose erupted black dust that reeked of death. Tumbo chuckled to himself, still battering his own stomach with his drumsticks.

Whilst his travel-mates were battling, Dracula’s Dog excitedly approached the house of his master. The sky had turned an unnatural black the moment he got near. The architecture of the home shifted, as if he stepped into a different realm. It was reminiscent of the castle they once shared, but slightly modernized. He could see through the window that the interior was pretty mundane. There was a living room with a tv and a couch, nothing special. He shrugged it off and flew up to ring the doorbell.

For a moment there was no reply. Dracula’s Dog again flew up to the doorbell, but before he rang, the door opened.

“I’ll be right back, Timmy.” Dracula stepped out in a polo shirt and blue jeans. Dracula’s Dog’s tail began to wag violently and he flew to greet his master. “Ugh.” Dracula turned away in reply. “What are you doing here?”

“WOOF!” Dracula’s Dog answered, still filled with joy.

“Go back to your home. You don’t belong here.”

A loud blast from Tumbo’s drum hit a protective barrier around Dracula’s home, distracting them both. The sound caught the attention of someone inside. Dracula’s Dog watched as a golden retriever came outside and brushed up against Dracula, receiving a gracious pet from its owner. Dracula’s Dog was appalled. He looked inside and saw a child playing on the floor of the living room and angrily said in his mind, “Timmy.”

“WOOF!” Dracula’s Dog barked.

“You were never my dog. You were my mistake.” Dracula replied, walking inside and slamming the door behind him.

Dracula’s Dog stood in shock on the porch, numb to the madness taking place in the street.

Tumbo grew tired, his arms still slamming the drum, but looking for an easier way to remove chunks of thralls at once. He stopped hitting the drum, held one of the drumsticks close to his stomach and fell backward onto the floor. Then, he let a pile of vampires accumulate. Once he was satisfied with the quantity, he tapped the drum with the skulls. A few vampires on the top of the pile were sent flying. What he was most proud of were the ones at the bottom being pressed into the others, literally squishing them all into one grotesque mass of thrall flesh.

Tombs grinned watching his big buddy pull that off. “Mind if I use that?” He asked Tumbo, pointing up at the ball of dead vampires. Tumbo shrugged to indicate he didn’t mind. He didn’t really know what Tombs’ plan was.

With his mace, Tombs exploded the ball of death, sending chunks of meat all around, pelting vampires with pieces of their own brethren. The crescendo, however, was the second part. He waved his mace again, commanding the corpses to reform. Every single body part flew at impossible speed to rejoin the rest. Tumbo watched as one of the male vampires removed a big chunk of meat from in front of his eyes just to have a set of legs plow through its brain and connect with the chunk.

Tumbo started laughing uncontrollably, loving the devastation. Tombs looked around to see that if any Thralls remained, they weren’t coming to fight. Then he saw his little buddy.

“Tumbo, look.” he called to the giant.

They walked towards Dracula’s House, kicking aside bodies. They both noticed the house transform and the sky darken. Then they looked in the window and saw Dracula playing with his new dog and his son and realized why Dracula’s Dog was slumped there. Tombs whispered something into Dracula’s Dog’s ear and then stood in front of the entry.

“I got it.” Tombs assured. He rang the doorbell and knocked on the door, which swung open immediately.

“WHAT?” Dracula shouted.

“Hold on.” Tombs looked back at his crew. “This is one of the most powerful beings in the world?”

“Of course I am.” Dracula stated unconvincingly.

“I think I saw you in an Old Navy commercial.” Tombs messed with immortal evil. “We got the wrong guy, team. Sorry to bother you, sir.”

“I see.” Dracula grew bitter. “You’re with IT.” he pointed at DD. “That makes you all mutts. Go before I call animal control.”

“Is this animal control?” Tumbo stepped aside and pointed out the thousands of bodies on the street. Dracula got upset and turned to go inside.

“You know, even though you’re clearly not the right guy, I guess this trip wasn’t a total loss.” Tombs said.

“How so?”

“We came for a powerful vampire, we’re leaving with a powerful vampire.”

Dracula’s Dog brushed past Dracula’s legs, coming outside.

“Wait.”

Timmy followed, bite marks in his neck, massive muscles for a 10 year old. “Bye, Dad!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, we’ll be taking him.” Tombs informed Dracula, who, even with the extremely pale skin, lost all his color at that moment.

Dracula’s Dog led the group away from the home, his tail wagging happily. Tombs and Tumbo walked behind, smiling. Timmy was way behind, searching for bones for Dracula’s Dog to play with, as was his command.