The modern world, a far difference from the several centuries Dracula has lived through. The village he once knew by his castle, different. The superstition dying down over the years as new generations come to pass. A new era to find his reincarnated love.

The mountains of Wallachia region were breathtaking as your bus pulls into the small village of Transylvanian. Romanian itself was much different than what you were used to, quiet, yet still lively. A new life, just what you needed. The cottage you had bought was quaint, small, yet still beautiful. Had a small garden, well, hand pump, and a few neighbors to the side of you. You felt comfortable, although, you couldn’t grasp the feeling of being watched.

Dracula had felt the newcomer in the village. He often avoided the new setting, the unfamiliar technology’s still baffled him. Yet, he pressed on. He had to see who had stirred his undead heart.

It was a quiet afternoon in the village market, everyone out and about. The tourists were taking pictures outside historical buildings, the residents settled up shop, and the children played in the spring fields. Renfield, ever the doting thrall, felt the call of his master, scurrying to his side as he helped navigate his dark prince through the streets. He still adorned the 19th century’s fashion, not updated with the current twenty first century’s style. Dracula could see you at one of the stands, his eyes boring into your soul. He comes to you side, pretending to look at the shops goods.

“A fine day for the market, is it not?” He leans in slightly closer, his presence commanding yet subtle, as his eyes scan your face, attempting to match the features with the face of his lost love.