Dark Matters

Chapter Five: Fine leather makes a fine bat

Dracula rose early. As he left the windowless room he caught glimpse of the orange light that filled the bare room next to his very inelegant resting place. The light was already too weak to harm him and the vampire stepped closer to the glass wall. Vladislaus watched the city below, pulsating with life. In all those years during his travels he had never felt as alone as now. Maybe, because finally, with all the blood from last night he, was able to think straight.

The pain and despair from endless nights of wandering, sometimes crawling through deserted plains and deserts with the sun burning him through his clothes during the day was gone. Not even in the woods where he had found at least enough wildlife to make the hunger at least bearable had he been that aware of himself. All these years it had been as if something had drawn him here. For most of the time he had been closer to madness than sanity.

He had felt so content and excited seeing the city from the cliff and now he felt drained and empty. The Count had rested well, had drank more blood in a few hours than he had in a whole month. And yet, he was still far away from regaining his strength. Dracula told himself to be patient, he needed to remember that at least the amount of blood had let him warp a bit and slip into the ghoul's mind.

What strange conversations he had had last night. If he wanted to call it like that. The vampire realised that in fact he had not had any real conversation in a long, long time. Not just during the past years. Not even before Van Helsing had made an end of his plans and nearly him. The only thing that had come close to a real conversation had been when he had convinced Dr. Frankenstein about his confidence in his work; but even then he had not been able to be truly honest. It would have scared the doctor away, too soon.

They were all afraid of him. His brides, who had been not so afraid unless, of course, he had given them reason to, had been far from being suitable partners for conversation. Maybe revenge had not been the only reason he had not wanted to kill Gabriel.

As soon as the sun was down and the only lights to be seen came from the city itself he passed back through the glass. The sharp pain returned and he nearly fell. Dracula managed somehow to glide down at the front of the building and landed rather clumsy on the pavement. An old woman with some kind of animal fur he had never seen before watched him suspiciously before she hurried on.

Vladislaus watched his hands. The pain had been real enough, but there was no feeling or sign of injury. His hunger was still nowhere nearer the point were he needed to feed. He wondered if this was a side effect of his peaceful rest.

Dracula tried to remember where the shops were as he approached the square he had crossed the night before. First it was time for a fresh pair of boots. Unless he could not afford them, that was. From Rufus he had not learnt about prices, but he had heard about the casino. It seemed the ideal place to make some money - in case he was at least able to pick up some basic thoughts and emotions. He just needed the right clothing to be allowed in.

He reckoned that the only reason why his clothing was not yet shred to pieces and his boots were still in one piece was the fact that they had been altered as he morphed with them into his bat-shape. Still the nobleman in him demanded new clothing instead of fixing those he wore.

Reaching the square, he was surprised how different it looked this early in the evening. It was practically buzzing with people and none of them seemed to care about the three now-dead people hanging from the scaffolding. There was even a group of tables and chairs very closely to it where people were eating and drinking - even laughing. Lanterns in a variety of colours hung above them. There were other groupings - some small tables with elegant chairs - in front of a store that was labelled "Café Noir" .

Dracula saw nothing remarkable demonic or extraordinary about the humans, except maybe that most of them looked much better dressed than he was. Strange clothing indeed, but they had their appeal. Hopefully he never again had to drink from dirty, rotten and unhealthy peasants in their flee-infested roughly fabricated clothing. It would almost be like being back in Budapest for the ball season when his food had walked right through over his doorstep.

He entered the shop that announced the sale of shoes and was surprised about the quantity of shoe-wear he found there. Boot makers used to have a few exemplary pairs, but this was a huge selection of different models. There were many shelves with numbers on them and all kinds of coloured shoes. Some were obviously not even made from leather. He stepped closer and saw that there was only one shoe of each pair, with the other one missing.

Vladislaus just raised a white one with strange neon green inlets in the sole that was of remarkably soft nature as he heard the voice of a young male, addressing him: "May I help you, Sir?"

"Yes, indeed, I am looking for a new PAIR of black boots!" Dracula replied putting away the horrible-looking shoe.

"Well, what size do you take?" the man asked friendly.

The puzzled look on the vampire's face showed the sales assistant that his customer had obviously no idea and he lead Dracula to the next chair. With some sort of measuring device he hold to his boots the man figured out that he had size twelve. Looking around, the Count realised that there was a number 12 on the shelf in one corner. The sales assistant pointed over there.

Vladislaus was presented with at least half a dozen single boots and none of them seemed to match his liking. Some of them had such strange markings and accessories on them - a bit too fancy for the Count's taste.

"If you prefer something plainer, I guess I take a look at our special sales - one moment," the guy suggested and disappeared behind another line of shelves.

For the first time the vampire had noticed that he the man wore some sort of white shoes with pink stripes over them and huge yellow circles on the backsides - Vladislaus was glad he had not paid close attention to the footwear before. And furthermore lot of people seemed to wear those thick blue trousers

A few moments later, the sales assistant returned with a high-cut pair of boots made from some sort of strange smelling black leather. They looked similar to his old pairs, but these ones were padded with some sort of wool and the foot to be seemed a bit broader.

"Here, Sir, what about this one? - A bit plain, but very comfortable, the inside is of course synthetic, but so is the outside," the assitant said as if this had been the funniest thing he had heard in a long time.

Despite the lack of jokes in the past years Dracula's face remained unmoved. "I'll try them."

There was a tag with the number 300 hundred on it. He wondered if this was the price and whether the sum in his pocket would cover it. Taking off his old boots, he asked: "Why do you have so many single ones?"

"Well," the sales assistant begun unsure whether his customer wanted to poke fun at him. "We do have the other one down in the store - some sort of security measure … how do they avoid them being stolen where you come from?"

"Mostly they make them on request - I suppose they don't do that here anymore," Dracula said, a bit disappointed.

"Oh, there is a boot-maker a few streets away, but he is very expensive - I believe Lace and the city guards get their boots from there. We get ours from the factory in the worker's district," he paused. "You do know who Lace is, don't you?"

"Yes, I've heard about him," the vampire replied angry.

The vampire's eyes stared at the man trying to invade his mind, but despite the fact that the man was scared by him and thought the Count had a bad taste in dressing and about the end of his shift there was nothing.

The sales assistant gulped. "Of course, Sir, you just look like you arrived very recently."

Despite the fact that the boots weren't made for him, they felt quite comfortable and seemed to fit well enough. He stood up and paced in front of the shelves. Since they seemed to be the best this shop had to offer, from what he had seen peeking at the other supposedly footwear for men, Dracula decided to take them. Later tonight he would have enough money anyway, or so he hoped, to have his clothing remade.

After all, the man was nice enough to point out that his money bag was not suitable and sold him at a considerably low price a flat purse. Vladislaus had had about 1200 counting all the numbers on this papers which he knew from Rufus' mind were the most valuable part of the moneybag. Which left him with about 900 - he thought to keep at least 400 for the casino. From his point of view that should be enough for his purpose.

He paid and left with his old boots in a strange smelling bag made some sort of elastic material. Vladislaus thought that it would be better to keep his old clothing - just in case. The vampire walked then over to one of the other stores where they sold clothing. It had surprised him last night that there had been so many stores, but most of them seemed to be concerned with women apparel. The one he had picked last night, however, seemed to be specialised in male clothing.

This time he heard the sound of a bell as he opened the door. This store was filled with different kind of trousers, shirts, jackets and many more kinds of clothing. All were hanging on railings at the walls or in the room on long rectangular or round stands. The Count wondered how they ever were going to find the people that fit in them and were willing to buy them. The only negative thing was the fact that there were mirrors everywhere. Somebody would inevitably notice that he had no reflection.

'Wait and see,' Vladislaus thought. There was no reason to worry before things went down hill.

"One moment, I'll be right with you", said an old man from the end of the store.

Dracula watched one of the mirrors or more likely the square with the scaffolding behind him. Then as he heard steps coming towards him, he placed himself in front of it. There were more on the sides, but hopefully they would be overlooked until he had found something appropriate. He hated to look through all this rummage by himself - not to mention that he did not probably want the trouble of finding the right garments in this chaos.

"Good evening, Sir, what can I do for you?", the man said.

The vampire eyed him carefully. He seemed indeed to be one of the more fortunate citizens. He had without a doubt more than enough to eat and a friendly temper, according to Rufus all signs of resident of this part of town.

"I intend to go to the Casino, so I am looking for something elegant", he told the old man.

"Oh," said the man and ran his fingers through his white beard. It sounded much as if he was saying: And who would have guessed that?

Still he was directing him to the second floor, the part were they had the more expensive garments as well as the studio for measure work. Quite proudly, the old man told the Count that despite their selling of clothing from the factory they also did some tailoring for a few of Lace's employee's. Obviously the whole family thought of themselves as some sort of artists. The women, as the old man stated, were making dresses for the dancers.

So, it was no wonder that he seemed so relaxed and content. Connections like that in a city run by a powerful, dark wizard were certainly more worth than any gold. Killing him would be the worst choice to date. However, so far the man had proved to be quite polite and Vladislaus liked the fact that he was treated with respect. The vampire was still avoiding all mirrors carefully.

"Here, if my eyes aren't too weak." The shop-owner grabbed a pair of black trousers from a coat-hanger and held it out to him. "Or try this one, or this one."

Dracula retired to one of the little rooms with a total useless mirror at one side meant for people to try on the clothing and tried on the trousers while the old man looked for a shirt which he handed to him. At least black was not out of fashion, as though why the shirt had to be white was a mystery to him. He had to accept this world and he felt that the old man only had the interest to leave behind another satisfied customer.

"By the way - maybe you want your other clothing dry-cleaned, they seem to be a little travel-weary," suggested the old man.

"I could not agree more," the vampire replied, looking at his clothes on the hook.

Vladislaus tried the first pair of trousers. He was surprised at how smooth the clothing was, they felt almost like the extremely expensive clothing that had been made for him. They seemed to be a tiny bit too wide for his taste, but then again he was not sure what it looked from the spectator's point of view. So he slipped into the shirt which had quite elegant buttons that shimmered and appeared to be made of ivory.

Stepping outside the small cabinet, he handed the man his clothes in a bundle. "So?" He asked the mortal for his opinion.

"Nice. A bit short, but so far quite fitting," said the man, circling around him. "I think the third one might do it for the length."

Dissatisfied by things proving to be so complicated, Dracula went back and tried the next pair as advised. The man who was in fact the shop owner, went away and he heard him asking for someone to come and bring the Count's clothing to the dry cleaner next door. Then the man returned.

"That's a bit longer, fits perfect with those boots, now let's see if we can find a jacket unless you don't approve", the man turned his gaze to the mirror that was at the end of an alley made of railings. "Oh, never mind, Sir," he chuckled, "I had no idea that you had no reflection. But trust me - it looks really nice."

"Are there many beings without a reflection among your customers?" Dracula asked casually.

"Not really, but my sister and her daughters are making many clothes for some of the more unnatural - if I might say so - beings that work for Lace and I was told that the Lamias do have quite a problem with that."

He quickly found a black dinner jacket and fetched it with his free hand. Handing it to the vampire he was already looking for another one. Vladislaus was using the opportunity to slip into the jacket. While he stared at his wrist, he heard fast steps coming up the stairs. A young woman dressed quite casually in those blue trousers that he had seen so often around the city, and a wide pullover came up to them.

"Evening", she said and then addressed the old man. "Hi Uncle, Mum said you need me."

"Linda, would you be so kind to take these to Bob," he said.

"Okay," she replied her gaze returning to Dracula. Obviously his charm still worked, for the girl had a certain very smile on her lips.

"I imagine this to be a bit short," said Vladislaus to both of them.

"You are right", said the man and handed his old clothing to his niece. "I find something with longer sleeves."

Linda took extra care in prepping the vampire's clothing neatly on coat-hangers. Before she finally turned to the stairs, he already had tried on two more jackets and she smiled more approvingly each time. "So now that we found the right suit, you need a bow-tie."

"A bow-tie?" He asked, confused.

"Oh, in that case - Linda do you mind sticking around a second longer?" her uncle said. "I'm no good doing flies on somebody else."

Linda hung up the clothing and they waited for the old man to find come with some sort of band.

"You are new here, aren't you?" she asked.

"It's hard to hide, isn't it?" Dracula replied.

"It's just - your clothing looks so old fashioned, or aren't they yours?" Linda wondered. "Anyway I am sure I would have noticed you, if you had been around longer."

'And without a doubt I wouldn't have noticed you,' he thought, but since she was so nice and he really liked her smile, seeing it from so close, he kept his thoughts to himself.

"Well, I never had any problems changing to what ever suits me best," he said meaning every word of it. "And that is black."

"Linda, please stop flirting with our customer and do the bow-tie", her uncle interrupted.

"You don't mind do you?" she said, stepping closer. Since Vladislaus had still no idea what that bow-tie thing was for, he nodded in anticipation of what was to come.

It surprised him a bit as she was bringing the ribbon around his neck and tying it with quick hands together. "That's looks gorgeous," she said as she was finished and stepped back.

"Ok, Linda, on your way", the old man told her.

"Bye, then," she said wearily, taking the clothes, and went down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, she doesn't get out much."

"Oh, I don't mind!" Dracula assured him. "So this thing is all I need?"

"Except for some cuff links, I think we are done." He seemed to remember something and got hold of a hankerchief which he applied to Dracula's breast pocket. "The handkerchief comes with complements of the house," the old man told him proudly. "Unless you require an overcoat, that'll be all."

Of course the Count had been checking the price tags and in the end he had only 200 left for the casino, but trusting to an experienced tailor and sales-clerk he looked quite elegant and considerably rich. Since he was not too well equipped money-wise he skipped the coat. The need was not really there, for he was in no danger of freezing. He merely sensed it was cold.

After almost two hours, he was to seek his fortune in the casino. As the old man was leading him down again toward the counter, he saw the most intriguing coat he had ever seen before. It was made of black leather, looked kind of heavy and he bet it was even more appropriate than his old cloak. Taking a look at the price tag kind of unsettled him. It was almost trice the amount of what he had started with. Maybe later, after he had his run in the casino. Nonetheless he had to try it on.

It actually fit perfectly and the old man told him it had been tailored for Pieter Snyder, who had been killed in the Mad Hatter's Teahouse slaughter and that they were about the same build, except Pieter being a bit taller. Vladislaus asked whether he might hold it back and the man assured him that nobody was going to buy it anyway. So they went down again.

"The cleaning will take a while, but you might come by later in the evening we are open till midnight", the old man said typing on some sort of box with many keys. "That'll be 680 and forty cents, all inclusive."

Dracula paid and asked whether he could leave his old boots and pick them up later with this other clothing. Knowing that his new-found customer might be in need of more new clothing besides a new coat, the old man agreed.