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Dracula: World of War- Part 8
🕑 Added 2022-06-20 20:32:02 +0000 UTC*1914*
It’s a warm July day, the sun is in the sky and the birds are singing loudly people are in the streets talking and laughing; truly the worst kind of day if you are a vampire. I wasn’t hunting at the moment, but instead was out running errands for my employer. His name was Eobard Decker, and he was a very successful banker. I have worked for him for seven and a half years now. After leaving America, I have had multiple jobs: a blacksmith in Germany, a postal worker in Spain, and now as a secretary in London England. I chose here because I had heard that it was almost always cloudy… not today. Thankfully, what counts as style changes here frequently, so wearing a hooded coat and scarf in July wasn’t too strange, but I still got a few surprised looks from people most likely questioning my sanity. Mr. Decker, my employer, had sent me to go out and get a newspaper and some cooked meats for him and a few guests. I arrived at the place where the paper boy always sells.
“Hello young James.” I greeted him.
“Hello Mr. Vladimir, how are you today.” He asked. I had decided to use my birth name for this new life: Vladimir Alucard. James was a seven-year-old boy, who got a job to help his parents provide.
“I’m doing quite well, thank you for asking James. How’s today’s paper doing?” I asked.
“Not so well sir, take a look.” I picked up a paper and read it. It read, “The Greatest of all Wars, Draft to take place.”
“So, they finally started that war that’s been in the papers, eh?” I said.
“Seems so Mr. Vladimir.” James responded. I bought a paper from James and gave him a few extra cents as a tip. Then I went and bought some smoked ham and returned to Mr. Decker.
I walked into the bank and past the teller desks, giving a small smile to the ladies behind the counters, then into the employees only section down the hall. Mr. Decker’s office was just beside the bank’s vault, whereas my workspace was close to the front in a room shared by a few others who worked there. I knocked and heard his voice from inside announce, “come in.”
I opened the door and said, “Sir, I have those cuts of meat you requested.” He was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.
He motioned towards a table with a strange sounding, “just put them over there.”
I noticed he was rather downtrodden, so I asked, “is everything okay sir?”
His voice broke as he spoke, as if he had been crying, “no Vladimir, everything is not okay.” He slid a sheet of paper that had tear drop stains towards me. I set the meat down and picked up the paper. It read:
“Notice of call and to appear for physical examination to Eobard Allen Decker.”
“Is this what I think it is sir?” I asked.
“Aye son, tis a draft card.” He confirmed and continued. “I almost missed it too, one more year and I would have been too old to draft.”
“I understand your fears, no one wants to be drafted into war,” I attempted to comfort him.
“No ya don’t!” He angerly snapped back and slammed his fist into his desk. He was a large man so the people in the lobby most likely heard it. “War took my father and my brothers, as well as all but one of my uncles. I won’t let it take me too!” He hollered and slumped back into his chair. He reached down under his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He undid the bottle and poured himself a glass tall enough to drown the sorrows of four men. “I won’t do it… I just won’t.” He said and chugged the whole glass. Something told me that bottle was going to be empty before the day was over. “Do you want some Vladimir? You’ll probably be getting a card soon too. I have an extra glass.” He offered.
“No thank you Mr. Decker, I don’t drink.” I declined.
“You sure? You’ll wanna be sloshed when that card is dropped off.” He said.
“Actually, I had already resigned myself to joining of my own accord if war started.” I explained to him.
“You’re a braver man than I, son.” He stated and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Tell me Vladimir, why do you want to join such a dreadful war?” He asked. Of course, I knew I couldn’t tell him the real reason, that wars are great places to hunt and that I still had recompences to pay for my past misdeeds, so I fed him a line I thought he might understand better.
“I just want to fight for what’s right and if that means I have to put my life on the line then so be it.” I told him.
“The world needs more brave young men like you boy, and less cowards like me.” He said and laid his head on his desk. His words were becoming more slurred with each swig he took from his glass.
Within a few minutes of our talk, Mr. Decker has reasoned that taking a nap would be prudent, and so he curled up on his office floor; using a stack of papers as a makeshift pillow. The sight of a large bodied, dark haired and bearded man, dressed in formal attire, and cradling a bottle of whiskey, made a few of the employees feel bad for him. Soon he was blind drunk and passed out. The other employees and I took that to mean that we had the rest of the day off, so we locked the doors and left to enjoy the rest of the day to the best of our abilities. I went straight home and searched for a draft card; none had arrived yet. I left the flat I was staying in and went to the registration office. When I arrived, there was a man sitting at a table doing paperwork. He hadn’t heard me when I arrived, so I announced myself.
“Hello.”
He raised his head and asked, “are you here to have your draft paperwork done son?”
“No, I’m here to enlist willingly sir. I have not received a card that I am aware of.” I explained to the man. He looked surprised for a moment, but quickly regained his stern and disciplined look.
“Good man, here is the paperwork you will need.” He declared and rummaged through a stack of papers under his desk before handing me a few forms.
I thanked him and asked, “do you have a pen?”
“Sure,” he answered and handed me a small silver pen. I walked over to a chair and began filling out the forms. It wanted things like medical history and other information that I assume would help them decide where to put me. I made sure to request a position on the front lines. I handed over my paperwork to the man and walked out of the building with my shipping orders in hand. I was to go to a training camp in two weeks. I was now a soldier in her majesty’s royal infantry.
