Disclaimer: I do not own Dracula's Castle nor do I own any other copyrighted characters from this series, just the plot and my characters. But soon I will own it all... as long as I win this damn auction on Ebay for it! Hehe...


Liadan (LYAH-dan) Phelan was practicing her base, when her obnoxious younger brother came pounding at her bedroom door.
"Liadan! Dinner!" he yelled. "And you're setting the table or I'll tell Mom you made out with Jordan!" the little twerp extorted.
Putting down the instrument, she sighed, "Do you want a wedgie that bad?"
He sucked in his breath and ran away from his sixteen year old sister's bedroom door.
Liadan laughed to herself and picked up the base again, running her fingers through her short and choppy red hair. Her spicy green eyes darted towards the door again, waiting anxiously to see if her brother tattled. Silence. All was well. Her black fingernails began to pluck at the strings lazily again. "I can't believe the sun rose/ without you, my world froze/ I never thought I could recover/ Without you, there is no other/ I-" she began to sing, then she was suddenly interrupted by a hand over her mouth and an arm pulling her off the bed and onto... a stone floor????

Maeve (MAYV) O'Brian was raking leaves, although it was pretty dark out, in her backyard. She sighed and listened to the screaming battle coming from within the house.
"You're a psycho - and you can't cook at all!" her father bellowed.
"Oh, yeah? You try having two children and raising them without any help!" her mother squawked.
"I help you plenty! And you're fat!" he yelled in reply.
"I am not! And what do you do all day? I cook, I clean, I'm the one that makes sure dinner is on the table!" she shouted. Which was not true, Maeve and her brother hadn't eaten that night.
"I'm the one that pays for the food around here! I'm the one that works all day!" her father countered.
"Oh, well excuse me! If anything should happen to your phone hand! All you do, is sit at a desk all day and talk on the phone!" her mother claimed.
"I make important business deals! I don't just chat, you bitch!" he voiced loudly.
"Bullshit!" Her mother responded, picking up a vase and throwing it at her husband's head. She missed by a lot.
"Hey! Don't you be throwing things at me, Missy!" he yelled, advancing on her.
She scrambled out of the wooden kitchen chair. "Get away!" she screamed, throwing a blender top at him. She actually hit him this time. In the shoulder, although it only proceeded to anger him further.
Maeve knew the beatings her father gave her mother were wrong. There was even a name for it: Domestic Violence. It never occured to her how someone could be too frightened and embarrassed to get help. And now that it was happening, she understood fully. She sighed and leaned against the rake, resting her chin on the handle.
Suddenly, a hand covered her mouth and she was pulled back onto... a stone floor????

Declan (DEK-lan) McConnelly looked up at his grandmother as she spoke to him from her recliner.
"You looks handsome tonight. What did you do?" she asked in her gentle and quiet voice.
"Absolutely nothing, Grandma. At least, nothing I can think of," he smiled at her. She was so sweet. She really reminded him of an older and quieter version of his late mother.
"Oh. Well, that must be the natural hunk that's my grandson!" she teased lightly.
Declan laughed with her, but her laugh soon turned into a cough and he ended up having to run into their old kitchen to get her medication.
When she finally recovered, she smiled at him. "You know, I'm not dying yet - but I realize that you're the only one I've got, Declan. What would I do without you?" she thanked him.
Declan would have replied, but he knew what was coming next.
"Now all I need are twently great grandchildren to spoil, and I'll be set to leave this world. Why don't you ever bring any girls home? You're so handsome and charming, I don't see how they could resist you!" she complimented.
"I don't know, Grandma," Declan humored her, "But I'm going to get a glass of water. I'll be right back, okay?" he said, getting up again.
"Okay, dear," she agreed.
But as soon as he entered the kitchen, a hand cupped over his mouth, and he was pulled onto... a stone floor????

Fallon Galaway was an only child. His mother was in the hospital with Leukemia, and his father was wasting away in grief as he watched her die. They had never really payed that much attention to him - as they were both very busy corporate lawyers, and they really didn't care what he did, so long as he didn't wreck the house or break the law. He sat in the austere living room, watching The Godfather. As he got up to get more Cheetos, he felt a hand over his mouth and an arm around him, abruptly pulling him back onto... a stone floor????

Dracula paced the floor of the torture room.
"Why are you doing this?" the poor villager cried.
"Because I can. And it's easy. And I'm thirsty!" he hissed, advancing on the poor woman chained onto a rack set up in the corner.
"No! Stop! Please, don't!" her cries ceased abruptly as his fangs plunged into her juggular and he buried his face in her neck, drinking like Odysseus after he washed up on Calypso's island.
Elë shuddered and turned the other way from down the hallway.