Count Dracula's History by Lena Solomon

Historical facts about Dracula and the Bat [1]

To God’s great surprise, and contrary to what even the most knowledgeable politicians had predicted five millennia earlier (a forecast of doom and gloom), in the year 7823 AD, Planet Earth was still blue when viewed from deep space. At that time, Dracula, the Eternal Grand Master of the Undead, world’s most famous and infamous vampire, was celebrating his 5672nd birthday. Over 2000 years passed in 7 days, from the initial hullabaloo and until God could make sense of the mess upon which he had brought light. Some compared that incipient state of matter to a soup, given its boiling condition and its suspected odor. After some time, God turned off the burner, thinking his soup had boiled enough. He then realized that not only planets with mountains, valleys, and oceans popped up from the bottom of the pot, which he now called “the Universe”. He also detected in the blink of time, of a little more than two thousand years, a perfectly masculine, scary creature, which most of the time had a human-like appearance. At first, he wanted to call this creation Satan or Devil, but then he changed his mind, as he preferred a more Wallachian tinge to the name, like Dracula.

It was soon discovered that this creature was a vampire and a member of the Nobility of the time, more specifically, a Count. Certain aspects of the origin of his name and how exactly this creature materialized are still a little confusing, but there are some indications that before naming him, God may have read Bram Stoker’s tale.

The details of the conception and birth of the ferocious vampire remain vague. The act of procreation, and the identities of the couple who participated in it, are still blurred. It is suspected that the romantic act that brought him into existence took place in a previously obscure region of the Carpathian Mountains, named Transylvania, a shadowy land, with beautiful blue lakes and waterfalls hidden deep in the forests covering majestic mountains. That land had never known better times than in the middle decades of the 20th century, when many people travelled there to meet and bring offerings to the famous local Vampire. The Count hastily grabbed those presents, bringing home the ones that still had traces of blood, such as dead chickens and stuffed newts. All other offerings: chocolate bars, fruit, and vegetables, found their way, “mysteriously”, to the main drainage canal crossing Transylvania. What an exhilarating experience must have been for the local population, finding such goodies free floating in the river!

Dracula’s age was a rather bloody, mysterious matter. Nobody, not even himself, knew precisely how old he was. Even worse, no proof that he had even been born could be found in any documents (just speculations about the romantic act being performed by whoever or whatever may have been his parents). Historians suggested that his birth certificate had drowned in the rather watery blood of his favourite species, “Homo Pinkus Non Agilus”.

Nevertheless, it is a legendary fact that he was born. As for the old doctor who assisted at his birth, Dracula could recount with great delight (mixed with only one little bead of sorrow) the very moment when, under his babyish bite, the old man was depleted of his last drop of life. Without his birth certificate and with the old man dead before he could write the chronicle of this historical birth, the Count’s age was based only on assumptions. Certainly, he had lived for a long time and could recount with crystal-clear precision the events surrounding the most prosperous time in Transylvanian history. However, even if in his historical tales the facts were slightly (or even grossly) misconstrued, there were no contemporaries alive to discard one truth for another. The lack of contemporaries was not only due to Dracula’s avid taste for blood, but also due to wars and natural causes. As for historians, archaeologists, and anthropologists who had previously been interested in studying historical facts, by the 21st century, they no longer cared much for true facts.

When interviewed, the famous Undead would recount, with watery eyes (and mouth), how, in exchange for the presents he received, he would initially show kindness towards his visitors, members of Homo Pinkus Non-Agilus species. This way, he could cover up his intentions to eat (drink) them while cleverly advertising his beloved Transylvania, with its charming nature, mysterious castles, vampire stories, and scary werewolves. At the end of long walks through the Carpathian forests, the Count would become extremely ravenous. So much so, that he could easily devour three small ones or one and a half bigger ones at once. Over time, the bigger, more plump ones became harder to come by, due to the new fashion of losing weight. Therefore, he could not get as much food as he desired from eating (drinking) skinny ones, now prevalent in his kingdom.

Bored and hungry, he decided to pursue a career in computer science, hoping for better pay, which exceeded his expectations, where he created the first AI interface, a change which made him instantly more socially attractive. But, while women seemed to fall in love with him more than before, this job restricted his time spent in beloved activities, such as jumping in and out of his friends’ coffins, or rappelling the walls of his castle. Throughout centuries of AI developments, Dracula acquired more talents and started competing in “Transylvania’s got talent”.

II

As Bram Stoker’s story tells, the Count liked changing shapes. He preferred the BatShape, over the most common vampires’ preference WerewolfShape. However, this choice had been rather unfortunate, because while the impact of garlic on werewolves was less known, the impact of garlic strings placed in front of houses to chase away vampires and bats– mutated-vampires, had been very well researched in Wallachia. Wallachian houses were all very rich in garlic. By proxy, it was demonstrated that vampire-mutated bats also hated garlic more than anything else. Well, they also hated light, but historical evidence indicated that garlic was more efficient at getting rid of them.

Below is the word-of-mouth evidence that shrouded this preferred shape change in later controversy, inaccuracies and fabrications. Throughout centuries, the inhabitants of the locations mentioned below swore by this tale’s authenticity. (From here on, please be aware that things may follow quite unexpected and complicated pathways).

Let me first introduce Flutter Cavener (FC for short) VII, the offspring of an old, noble family of famous bats, closely related to famous Undead’s shape changing. This transformation allowed Dracula to travel incognito not only through Transylvania, but also all over the British Empire.

FC VII traced his ancestry to the court of King Arthur, where his Great-Great-Great Grandfather incarnated out of a shapeless heap of ashes, of a completely unknown origin. Strangely enough, this pile of dust was found next to the bones of an ancient creature, which many centuries later was identified by the paleontologist on duty as a relic of Pterodactyl. The next two generations to follow FC VII (i.e. FC VIII and Gregg) yearned for higher education than that of their fellow bats, and so one became a scientist and the other a musician. The former specialized in the mating behaviours of microbats, while Gregg became famous for his interpretation of Béla Bartók’s Romanian Dances, remaining loyal to his Transylvanian/Wallachian ancestry and lacking any further historical importance.

Around the time of the above-described incarnation, a hen also suddenly appeared, nearby, next to Sir Lancelot’s grave. And although no connection between the two events had ever been scientifically established and had never been discussed on TikTok or any other social media platform, this staggering coincidence had a remarkable impact on FC VII’s life. In order to make sense of this mess, or perhaps complicate things even further, (the family history of famous bats has never been a simple matter) the storytellers testified that: “due to a yet unexplained game of fate, the original Flutter Cavener, FC I, was nicknamed by his friends “Phoenix the Hen”.

This terrible nickname felt like a curse upon poor Flutter Cavener I, who knew nothing of the strange reincarnation of the edible, egg-laying creature and believed this mockery was due to his funny looks (and, alas! FC I looked really funny, something between a hen and a bat). His lineage, predating the pile of ashes of unknown origin from which the first grandfather evolved, was very hard to establish.

This mystery troubled FC I and he tried in vain to find details. He also tried in vain to find reasonable answers to other challenging questions festering his potentially good spirits (e.g.: why most humans seemed rather scared or disgusted when he would happily flutter around, or why he was not nicknamed something more impressive, such as Phoenix the Eagle, being completely unaware that he actually resembled more a hen than an eagle). These unsolved quandaries caused his mood to plummet daily into very deep abysses. His sadness went so deep that no tea or chicken soup could mend it. And of course, chicken soup was a delicate subject, considering his nickname. This is how FC I lived for most of his life, which extended over one and a half centuries. He was succeeded by FC II, III, IV, V, VI, and finally FC VII.

Much later, during the second half of the 20th century, it was discovered that Flutter Cavener I was just a compound of antimatter particles mirroring the pile of ashes next to the pile of bones (not the one belonging to the hen, the other one). The antimatter being volatile could finally explain his mood swings, weird thoughts, and hilarious looks.

This quantum mechanical matter instability was the fundamental reason FC I was wrongly diagnosed and wrongly medicated for most of his life. Although his functioning improved with time and he lived a long life, his doctors were blamed for having caused his offspring in the next two generations to be born looking half hens, half bats, and for their eggs to be half good to eat. Nevertheless, between the third and seventh generations of Flutter Caveners, this highly disputed treatment began to show positive results. Improvements anticipated the transformations clearly observed in the seventh generation.

The birth of FC VII marked the end of bats as a pure species. From that point on, these animals were considered mutated vampires (reason explained below). In their original identity, bats had been much less offensive; they loved to eat apples and, being blind, preferred the simplicity of living in caves. Mutated, they lived in castles, were terrified of garlic chains placed in front of houses, although they still liked apples (only slightly less than before).

Having established his heritage in such confusing a manner, and after many totally insignificant adventures, Flutter Cavener VII decided to build his nest in a secret castle named Bran, in Wallachia. He found this place scary, and therefore adequate for a bat of his stature. He spent most time of the year there, in the thick forests of the Carpathians mountains, a strange place, rich in horror stories that attracted lots of curious, yet naive visitors.

It is there that the world-famous Vampire, Dracula, and Flutter Caverner VII, the bat, met and mutated into each other (one can indeed blame AI). So, when the clocks chimed a mystic night hour, the handsome Count Dracula transformed into the repulsive FC VII. Both forms shared a fear of garlic and a dislike of light, although, one still liked apples while the other preferred to suck blood.

Later centuries rumours suggested that the death of the Undead, was caused by an overdose of garlic soup. Strangely as it may sound, despite his fear, he developed a passion for this dish. This reaction formation created such a severe emotional conflict (between fear and irresistible attraction) that his gut was affected in the most fatal way.

[1] Inspired by B. Stoker, Dracula, 1897