The Bride of Dracula: A Halloween Story
It is Halloween, and time for my annual attempt at political satire. Previous attempts at spooky political humor can be found here and here. Public response to these efforts has been overwhelming, but I am going to keep doing it anyway.
Scene: A decrepit stone mansion in suburban Minnesota. A great entry hall is lit with the flames of a dozen torches. Ragged tapestries line the walls. In the corner, a grand staircase and an iron banister, covered in cobwebs, lead to the second level. The front door creaks eerily as two shadowy figures enter the room.
Van Helsing: Quiet, Mr. Harker, don’t let her hear you.
Harker: Do you think the Countess is sleeping?
Van Helsing: No. She only sleeps during the daylight.
The stillness is interrupted by a female voice coming from the top of the stairs.
The Countess: You know me all too well, Dr. Van Helsing. Did you stop by for a cup of tea? I wasn’t expecting visitors.
She steps out of the shadows and into the flickering firelight. She is wearing a diaphanous floor length gown, colored eggshell blue. Her long brown hair extends to her shoulders, where it curves back upwards in a flip. But the most striking aspect of her appearance is her stare, with two intense brown eyes that seem to pierce into her visitors’ very souls.