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Clara	By : dancingsalome Category: G through L > The Historian Views: 3094 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Historian or Dracula. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Clara woke up in her own bed, though it took her some time to work out where she was. Her body felt sore and she had a horrible headache that made her unwilling to move or even open her eyes. For a long time she lay very still, trying to remember what had happened last night, but she was also very thirsty, terribly thirsty and in the end she had to get up, driven by the need to drink. She found that she was still fully dressed, though her underpants were gone and her stockings were in tatters. That sparked a memory. She had been attacked, yes, she could remember that, but only in glimpses and she could not remember how she had got home in the end. She stumbled out into the kitchen and drank glass after glass of water, but that barely quenched her thirst.
When she couldn't stand drinking anymore she went into the bathroom. She badly needed to shower, to remove whatever traces her attacker had left on her. For a long time she stood under the hot water, scrubbing every inch of her body. When she reached her neck, Clara suddenly felt a sharp pain at the point where her small wound was. She gingerly felt at it with a fingertip and found it larger than it had been. Worried she stepped out of the shower to look into a mirror. Her reflection gave her a small shock. She was deadly pale, even her lips seemed colourless and she looked drawn and tired with dark shadows under her eyes. And the wound at her throat had indeed opened up, though there was still no trace of blood. The skin seemed a bit swollen and when Clara looked closer she could clearly see that it wasn't one wound, it was two. Not a tear as she had though, but two puncture marks, set a little apart from each other.
Clara stared at them. They seemed familiar and she suddenly realized that she had seen something just like it very recently. She and Fred had gone to see the latest Dracula movie. It hadn't really frightened her, but she very secretly found Christopher Lee rather handsome and had enjoyed it. The victims in the movie had had wounds like that, only those on her own throat looked more real. More real because they were real. Clara gripped the edges of the basin and fought back wave nausea. She suddenly remembered what else had happened the day before. The man, that man from the library, he had been there last night too. He had killed her attacker and then, and then...
It couldn't be true of course. Vampires weren't real, they were creatures you found in books and movies, and not where you worked. Not in your everyday life, but he had been so very strange and somehow it didn't feel as unnatural as it ought to, to believe he was a real monster. Clara stood a little while longer, trying to collect her thoughts. She must be in shock that was why she had such crazy notions, but the idea didn't feel crazy at all. Clara shook her head. It was a crazy thought yes, but if she tried to look at it calmly, then the fact remained that this strange man had done something that she couldn't quite recall and he must also have been the one who had taken her home.
That thought both chilled and sobered her. If she just looked at the bare facts, then this man must have been following her, which was alarming enough, and he had also killed a man with a terrible ease. He couldn't be a vampire, but he was still a dangerous man and perhaps he meant to come back. Clara at once felt sure that he would come back and that she must get away.
Clara went into her bedroom and got dressed as she continued to think of what she could do. It was Saturday and Fred was away on a fishing trip. She had looked forward to a weekend on her own and hadn't made any plans with anyone, so no one would miss her until Monday. She could catch a train and go- to her parents? No, not her parents, he might very well follow her to them. But she had cousins, several of them. She would visit one of them, they would be surprised if she came without notice, but they would welcome her. Then she would have time to think a bit more to decide how to go on. Or perhaps she ought to check herself into a mental hospital? Clara laughed, but it sounded so brittle and desperate that she abruptly stopped. Well, they would certainly admit her if she turned up and said she needed help because she was stalked by a vampire.
The thought truly was ludicrous, but Clara couldn't get rid of a small nagging voice telling her that insane or not, it was the truth and though it felt silly, she went through her jewelry box. There, at the bottom, she found a tiny box, a gift from an aunt many years ago. It contained a small silver cross on a dainty chain and Clara had just looked at it back then, thanked her aunt and forgotten all about it. Now she fumbled with the clasp and somehow, felt better when it was locked around her neck.
When it was done, all energy left her and Clara felt very tired. She looked at her watch and found that it was barely noon. Plenty of time then to pack a bag and take a cab to the train station before night fell. Even if he strange ideas were a hysteric reaction she still felt very strongly that she needed to leave by daylight. Still, she could rest a little while. Just rest, she wasn't to fall asleep, but she felt so deadly tired that she felt she couldn't go on if she didn't lay down for a few minutes.
When she woke up again Clara opened her eyes into darkness and cold fear gripped her. She had fallen asleep anyway and she had slept though the whole day despite it all and now it was too late to leave. Even the short steps down her stairs felt like a too long walk when she thought of the man perhaps being there. But she wasn't safe where she was either, she was all alone and he had already proven that he could both come and leave her home at will. She sat up in bed, switching on the small lamp on her bedside table. The small pool of light felt comforting at first, but the darkness seemed even darker now, pressing against the small bauble of light she sat in. She had to turn on all the lights; perhaps it would feel a bit better then. She would phone a friend to come and fetch her and then she would wait close to the door with her back to the wall until someone came. It wasn't a good plan, but it was the only plan Clara could think of.
When she entered her living room and was about to turn on the lights that she suddenly knew that it was too late. The room was silent around her, nothing stirred, but still she knew that she wasn't alone. She knew with complete certainty that he was there waiting for her. Clara paused, despite knowing he was there, she didn't want the light to conform it. As long as she couldn't see, then perhaps she was only disillusioned, but then she wouldn't see when he came for her. It was better to see.
He was there. He was standing across the room, but his eyes where on her face as if he had been able to see her all along. He stood very still and Clara was suddenly aware how unnatural that was. She had never really thought about it before, but now she realized that this was a part of what had unnerved her so in his company. There ought to be tiny movements, as muscle that ticked, a little fidgeting with hands and feet, but there was nothing. Only the eyes were alive in the impassive face and just as she had known that hh had been there before she saw him, Clara knew with a blinding certainty that he was exactly what she had conjured up. Not an insane but living human being, but something else entirely. She fumbled against the door post, found it and leaned against in an effort to hide how her body had started to shake as soon as she saw him. In a last effort to prove to herself that it was she who was crazy, not that her idea that was true, she blurted out;
"Are you Dracula?"
A faint smile passed over his lips before he answered her. "Yes. Yes Clara, I am."
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Clara