The estate agent looked at the clipboard and sighed. “You’re going to love this one, Mr Dracula.”

“You said that last time. And please. Count Dracula.”

“One Dracula, two Dracula…” The agent offered a cheesy grin to his bloodless passenger. The grin saw the expression on the anemic countenance and hurried to find somewhere to hide. “I suppose you’ve heard that before?”

“No one has ever thought it worthy of articulating.”

“I guess the name and all. Must make you want to grind your teeth.”

“That’s never an option for me. Please, enough of this redundant ribaldry. Tell me about the castle.”

“Right ho.” The agent coughed and straightened his shoulders. “Castle Penelope is…”
Dracula held up a hand, noticing a nail had cracked and wondering why these things had to happen to him. Spending too much time in the light, he supposed. Mother always warned him about the deleterious effects off too much vitamin D. If he’d been meant to be diurnal he’d have been born with pigmentation. “Did you say ‘Penelope’?”

Continue reading at Tangental