We Come As Angels

[smokingboot]

As bleodswean suggested, I put some Nosferatu/Dracula related stuff on AO3. Hope to find you there! But it's a weird thing; I do not connect in as deeply on that forum; I want my writing to be as good of course, but I try harder when I think of this forum. I don't know why. Dracula feels easier to write about, Nosferatu is harder perhaps because I feel more for it, and the more I feel, the harder writing becomes.

I'm adding a Mina/Brides fic here. It's 979 words, implied bits and pieces about sex, talk of death, war, disfigurement/amputation, but it's pretty gentle overall.




Candles, candles always flickering, amid the groans of dying men.

Sometimes she imagined them quiet. But when they were quiet, she imagined them dead. 'Angels' they called the nurses, but there was nothing angelic about her now, taking off her apron to wash away the blood of another failed surgery, another amputation that killed a patient from sheer shock of pain. Doctors in despair, no morphine, medicine coming tomorrow or the day after or the week after, nothing but alcohol and prayers. Prayers! She closed her eyes and remembered those days when she and Lucy believed in prayers, so silly and pretty with their maiden talk about hopeful handsome suitors. Here now were all the dream men, smashed like beetles in trench mud, limbless, sightless, mindless... She wondered if Dr Seward was somewhere in this mess, quietly stealing from supply rooms and scribbling observations in a little notebook.

'Nurse, nurse...' a low whisper.

She left her pinny in the basin to find the boy, blue eyed and strong once and now... below his hips, blank rags and blood. Soon he would be sent home, where a mother or a sweetheart could see what his valour had won him.

Bitter, bitter Mina. Oh for the days where the young men smiled so bold, the days of Jonathan and Quincy and Arthur, and...

'Nurse, nurse!' Not the boy. And at the front of the tent...

'Get out!' She spoke with such confident authority, two of the three looked to her hands, checking perhaps for a weapon. 'How dare you come here? How dare you...' Her mind was running on what she might use. Tent poles? Where's white phosphorus when you need it? Harsh laughter, her own voice, sounded in the back of her head.

'Here comes the nurse!'

'Mina Murray Harker!'

'Save us, save us, nurse!'

Mockery for her, she who could have been the night's own queen, beyond demons and angels and mankind, she who could have been eternally beautiful and loved forever, now a faded woman with hands more blood-spattered than those of any monster. One of them moved closer to her while the other two surrounded the boy.

'Get back!' Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. 'I have fire, do not test it. Leave him be.'

'She has fire,' said one of the three, 'Sisters, do you hear? Mina Murray Harker has fire.' She settled beside the boy and uncovered her bosom, heavy and lush. This one weaned before death, thought Mina absently, Jonathan never thought to mention that. Again, laughter in her head. Of course he didn't, and neither did Vlad Dracul. One wouldn't know and the other wouldn't care. Another bride sat behind the boy and propped him up. Half awake he groaned and mouthed, gratified when she cupped one of the mother vampire's breasts and pushed the nipple into his mouth. It fell out, wet and swollen, and he grasped it again with his teeth.

'Let him suckle, old woman, ' said the blonde one approaching her, blue eyes sparkling. 'He has nothing else.'

The one holding the boy could contain herself no longer, and pushed her mouth against his neck. His eyes widened though his lips remained fastened on the teat before him.

'He tries to bite,' came the murmuring laughter, 'he wants it, just as you did.' Mina watched, wildfire in her mind as the blonde woman came close, the smell of men and women warm on her.

'We are the banquet, my darling. We are Lucy and Dracul himself, all in us, all. Put your mouth on me and feast, and we shall put our mouths on you.' Mina felt her thighs parting as if in a caress. 'Yes. Lift your joy to us, so hungry and soft. You are ready, are you not?' The fingers swept inwards, 'we will make your craving perfect.' Mina recoiled and struck the vampire hard to the ground.

'Never touch me.' Mina's voice was hard. 'keep your tricks away from me.'

Words in the mind. Your husband made no such resistance. Your husband...

The groans grew louder while the bride spoke again as though nothing had happened.

'You have no medicine for this one. You cannot stop his pain now, never mind what he will endure when awake. We come as angels.' She smiled. ' We can help him and the many who never go home.'

'Then you will have supplies enough for those who have hope of life,' said the one who breastfed the boy. 'And more will be saved.'

'Many will know relief from us who must die in agony otherwise ,' added the third, lifting her teeth from his smeared neck, 'We are not without compassion.'

He grew silent and moved no more.

'You are obscene,' Mina said.

But they were right, she knew, about supplies, about these men. It was all obscene. Besides, how was she to find the brides by daylight? She could hardly search every trench on the Western Front, even assuming they were so foolish as to place themselves that close to danger. Their coffins could be anywhere.

'Well then,' came her answer, 'seeing as I have so much else to consider. You may bring peace to the dying for now. You may slake your thirst and end their pain. But you will not touch any with hope of life and joy, and if one of these rises after, if just one soul faces damnation on your account, I promise you all the pain of eternal death. I am the mistress of your master, Dracula's only beloved. I destroyed him and fear not to destroy you. Are we agreed?'

Sighs of yes met her in dwindling answer as the mists formed and retreated, and she understood that morning must be on its way.

Mina looked down at the corpse that seemed to smile back, lifted the sheet, and covered his face.