Zatanna learns about her Count, and a deal is made.

As soon as she stepped through the portal of her own making, Zatanna breathed in the scent of her master’s native lands. The night air was crisp and chilled with the late autumn air. Up high the night skies were dark and only lit with the stars and the moon shining down over the pine trees that dotted the forests surrounding Dracula’s castle. The citadel looked like a great black spire reaching straight up like some razor-edged spear or trident, with smaller towers that jutted out of the other larger towers like the limbs of some gothic cactus plant. The stonework was dark and grey with age and the tiled roofs were pitch black.

Already she could tell the difference between Gotham and Transylvania, there was a stark cold in the mountainous region that seemed devoid of life. Birds did not sing; animal life made no calls or howls. All there was to greet her were the chill in the air and the silent howl of the wind. Making her way up the path and aged cobblestone of the archway of the castle, Zatanna found dozens if not hundreds of aged wooden spears dug deep into the earth in two rows at either side of the path. Some bore skulls bleached white from age with piles of bones littered at the foot of each pike. Centuries worth of enemies slain and made examples or trophies for the living and foolish to consider if ever stepping a single foot on the grounds.

“Vlad the Impaler indeed…”

Stepping into the castle proper when she forced the old doors to yield to her strength, her first step was disorienting. The inner sanctum of the main hallway seemed significantly larger than the space outside would allow; an open hall with torches lit with a blue fire that gave off light, but no heat illuminated a space that was matted with dust and cobwebs. Not unlike a tomb. Passing the main hallway and deeper into the castle, Zatanna found the inner landscape did not match that of the exterior at all. Was it magic? A folding of space that allowed passages to seem longer, or rooms to occupy areas she knew from looking at the castle from the outside should not exist? She knew he was a powerful being, one capable of incredible destructive power, but here in this castle she bore witness to his rare show of creativity.

A non-euclidean landscape made in Dracula’s image, one meant to disorient the unprepared and leave trespassers lost and confused. And yet at the same time it was mathematically precise and thoroughly planned, every room had its own meaning and purpose without any sign of randomness placed on where they were located or how large the space they took up. She had passed by visitor quarters large enough to fit armies, a smithy that seemed well equipped to forge a railway, a room sporting sprockets and gears best found in a clock tower and a laboratory that rivalled the size of a museum… And each of their doors were precisely 40 feet of each other in a row down the same hall. In a building built UP instead of OUT!

An impossibility, yet here she stood.

Stretching out her chalk white arm, she traced a sigil in the air, one that glowed red before she spoke out her incantation. “Yrarbil s’alucard em wohs.” With a spark of red light, the sigil fell to the floor and began to mark a glowing red line that led like a thread towards her destination.

Continuing, the dark castle remained deathly quite save the click of her heels, going deeper into her lover’s castle. For the better part of a twisting and curving long moment she found herself at the arched doorway of Dracula’s library, and pursed her fanged lips into a smile. Increasing her step, Zatanna followed the glowing red line to a stand where an ancient scroll was set on display. Its glass container was smoky, and dust filled around the rim, but she could already tell she had found what she was looking for.

“Hmm, soon my love, soon I shall show you I am truly worthy of your powers.” Passing by a painting, Zatanna paused to admire it, aged and dusted over she could still clearly see it as her lover Dracula standing by his fireplace with a beautiful woman with her hands placed in her lap, her olive skin and silky blonde hair in contrast to the cold pale of his own. And yet his face seemed… Softer, happier. Reading the label at the bottom it read Vladamir and Lisa Tepes. Lingering for only a few more seconds, Zatanna moved on, her prise nearly within reach.

*

Sitting comfortably in his quarters at the iceberg lounge on an opulent silk cushioned chair, Dracula smiled when he sensed his other two brides returned from their errands, crouched at his foot and looking out drunkenly into the nearby fireplace, Candy remained silent, oblivious to the two tiny wounds in her neck.

The first to step into through the wooden door was Talia, graceful and elegant like a razor’s edge she glided into the room without making a sound. Her skin chalk white and her long waist length hair pitch as night sailed behind her to a current of wind that wasn’t present in the room. Making eye contact, her eyes glowed red like burning coals. She was intoxicatingly beautiful, the type of elegant beauty a predatory creature would possess, gracefully and silently making each methodical step. Smiling down at her lover, Talia bowed to her Count before moving to join him at his side.

“Ah, my Talia… Did you achieve what you sought?”

Her beautiful face briefly contorted between furious denial and satisfaction before she answered. “The Bat’s butler prevented me from killing my son… But the League of Shadows are mine to command, and YOURS to request my love.”

With a darkened smile, Dracula took Talia’s hand and kissed her fingers, standing to his feet and letting Candy lull to the side to let him move away from his seat, the Count held his bride in a waltzing stance. “Then you have rid me of a pretender who sought to weaponize my blood to make imposters, you have my thanks my dear bride.” Enjoying the slow pace and gentle embrace of the vampire Count, Talia softly cooed at the affection, until it was interrupted by the arrival of Dracula’s third bride.

Storming through the door and clutching a trench coat around herself, Vicki Vale panted and wheezed. Coated in blood; both hers and many others, the blonde woman breathed heavily and clutched to herself tightly like a frightened woman who had just staggered out of a nightmare. To anyone who would know the vampire, the REAL nightmare was her, not what she escaped from.

“Fucking jackal! That stupid albino hyena RUINED my plans!”

“And what plans were those sisters?” Asked Talia with a knowing smile, one that garnered a red eyed sneer from the blonde woman before she stomped over to the television. Turning it on, the screen immediately went to the evening news showing footage of the events at city hall. “Shock and Horror filled city hall tonight when a pack of… Werewolves terrorized the meeting with the mayor. The creatures had focused their attention on our star reporter Vicki Vale… Who, in a more terrifying turn of events BUTCHERED the attacking wolves and killed everyone at the hall.” The picture showed a blurred-out image of her feeding on one of the wolves to regain her strength and rapidly heal her injuries. “As of now there is a police bulletin out for Miss Vale listing her as armed and extreme…” Throwing the remote with enough force to crack the screen, Vicky fumed and growled out her frustration.

“My plans were perfect, I had the city eating out of the palm of my hand, in a matter of days I would have had all of Gotham with torches and pitch forks burning down Wayne manor and offering his head to you on a damn silver platter… Then SHE shows up!!!”

Slowly moving away from Talia, Dracula embraced Miss Vale, bringing a hand to her waist and spinning her into a dance, a warm yet cruel smile on his face as he did. “My dear bride, I admire your enthusiasm in the slaying of my nemesis my dear, propaganda… An interesting weapon I myself will admit I’ve never wielded with finesse But even you have to accept that monsters such as him, monsters such as us… We have faced the very same and survived.”

Letting the trench coat slip off of her blood-stained body, Vicky sighed and cooed, letting her partially naked body meld close to his cold embrace. “I WILL kill him for you my love, please let me prove to you I am worthy of your affection.”

“Perhaps you simply have not been direct enough.” Called a monotone voice from the door. A stark chill filled the room instantly, one that had finally woken Candy from her trance and look up to find she was no longer the only one in the room. Looking up from her prone spot she found Dracula with Talia Ghul and Vicky Vale… And Mister Freeze standing at the foot of the door to his suite. Clasping the neck injury with her good hand, Candy crawled her way out of the room when Mister Freeze took two steps inside to let himself in, ignoring the panicking woman as she fled. His face expressionless.

“I have come to capitulate on your offer, you wish the Batman dead in order for my Nora to live.”

Smiling more darkly and moving away from Vicky, Dracula approached the stone-cold man before him behind the glass dome of his environmental suit. “That was the deal Doctor, do you believe you can see the task complete?”

“I will require a witness to see things are done properly…” turning his gaze on the other two women in the room, Freeze pointed towards Vicky Vale, his face remaining expressionless. “Her, she shall come with me.”

“How DARE you assume you can make demands here!” Hissed Talia, her red eyes glowing. His reaction if any was a slow turn to face her and reply. “YOU I do not know, Miss Vale I am thoroughly knowledgeable of, she will come with me.” Turning back to address Dracula, his eyes were still obscure by frost off his visor and the red tint of his goggles. “As a reporter, I feel she will not embellish anything for good measure.”

Riled up further by the mild insult, Talia was surprised when Dracula waved a hand to halt her would-be wrath.

“Done, my bride will see you to the door.”

Instantly turning to exit, the trio could only hear the hiss and whirl of Mr. Freeze’s suit as it grew fainter with every mechanical foot fall, the chill in the air finally relenting. Looking over to Vicky Vale as she glared out the door and softened to look back at her Count, Dracula traced a finger under her chin. “Humour him for now my love, he just might accomplish what I have set here all those months ago.”

“But why rely on that… Broken dead man for aid when you have US!” Hiss Talia, only to get a glare so intense from Dracula she stepped back out of fear.

“Because my dear, I recognize a kindred spirit in him, I am a vampire; a walking maelstrom of blood letting and destruction, but HIM? He is death itself!”

*

“Death itself…” Smiled Zatanna, tracing her sharp finger nail over the runes and sigils of the old scroll kept carefully preserved in Dracula’s castle, finishing her research and carefully returning the scroll to its pedestal. “Death is but a doorway, time a window, a veil separates the souls from the living and unliving, to see either, one must pull the veil away…” Reaching out with her outstretched fingers, Zatanna traced the sigils she read from the scroll out into the air where they left blue flames in their wake. When she had made the incantation, she clasped her hands over the sigils like they were a handle and pulled them to the side. When she did, she was surprised by the results.

Like a proverbial cloth pulled away from a table, the castle became animate with the lingering spirits of those bound to the foundation and lands. Statues of long aged armour filled with the stern glare of the spirits that resided in them, scenes of past lives centuries ago played out in front of her; a woman in a blue dressed like in the painting chased a small boy with platinum hair through the halls, a woman in a formal gown she passed by stood by the window clasping her heart before jumping out. Retracing her steps to leave the castle, more hauntings revealed themselves to her. Templar knights fighting Turkish soldiers in the court that would switch to the local peasantry facing Dracula’s wrath, their deaths still staining the castle they died in.

“Is THIS how you see the world my love? Surrounded by the past playing over and over again?”

“He’s long since learned to ignore what he chooses to forget Darlin.” Answered a hoarse voice with a Texas accent. Turning her attention to the source, Zatanna was met with a more recent looking ghost. By the looks of his clothing he stemmed from the 19th century America, his face drawn and pale, clutching his side where even colourless there was the hint of a bloody wound where he had been killed by a stab wound. Crossing her arms with a smile and tapping her finger to her cheek, the vampires chuckled to herself.

“Quincey Morris, I presume? And to think, I thought Bram Stoker’s novel was just fiction.”

“So, he’s cursed you too huh Darlin? Shame, just another harlot to replace his old wife.” With a fierce hiss, Zatanna swiped her clawed hand across his face, her fingers going though him like fog where he continued to float before her, unphased. “You think he chose you cuz you were special? He’s got a whole graveyard of undead whores he took on over the centuries, you’re no different.”

“And Mina Harper was no different?” Getting a rise out of the ghost, it surprised her when he meant to slap her and out of shock felt her face briefly go numb from the immaterial strike. “Struck a nerve, have we?”

“Mina Harper was an angel dragged down by that devil, it took everything we had to save her… In the end, she died instead of him, along with me.”

“Sucks to be you… At least you have company.” Leaving the property, Zatanna opened a portal back to the iceberg lounge where she could already see her beloved and her sister brides speaking together.

“Just remember darlin, immortality ain’t about livin forever, its about having all the time in the world, your Count knows a thing or two about living longer than love…”

Sneering back at the phantom, Zatanna stepped through the portal and swiftly closing it behind her.