WALTZ OF THE VAMPYRES

by Vee B'Dosa © 1997--2009

Gretchen could look out from the balcony of Brunshaus Inn
into the night and see the lights of the city on the horizon several
kilometers away. It was a view she had grown up with and she never tired
of watching the lights, although with the war raging on, not as many
lights were to be seen. As the war passed on, she would often watch
as search lights raced across the sky in search of enemy aircraft, but
they never came. Not for many months, at least, and whenever she saw the
search lights it was always just a drill going on.

The Inn was built on the jagged top of a steep hillside that
overlooked the German plain. Looking straight down from the balcony
at night could be something of a frightening experience, as it was so
steep that only black darkness could be seen, even though there might
be enough light around to see other things. To Gretchen, it had always
been "the dark", perhaps an escape from the realities of a world out of
control, and Gretchen often wondered just where she would come out if
she ever jumped into the dark. But it was her secret, and she never,
ever told anyone about the dark until she told Hans.

Not many travelers came by the inn in those days; it was too far
off of the main roads; but when they did Gretchen did little to encourage
any talk of the war. She had already lost her father and a brother, both
on the Russian front, and any talk of war in her dining hall was quickly
discouraged.

And then Hans came, a soldier and a magnificent looking one
indeed! He stole her heart right from the very first day, and even when
the war was rumored to be going poorly and coming to an end, Hans never
once gave any indication that he was anything except one of the victorious.
Hans was the picture of victory itself, even when he knew the end was
near.

There had been very little actual war activities in the area except
for a two or three small air raids. Then, into the first of 1945, there
were reports of enemy bombing getting closer and closer.

Sometimes she could see the distant head light of a railroad
train as it made its journey into the city, carrying mostly refugees
and prisoners. But it was all so far away that it was not possible to
hear their sounds, unless the weather was just right and it was in the
winter. That was such a night when Herr Dom made his call on Brunshaus
Inn.

Gretchen never met a stranger in her life, and Herr Dom was no
exception. If anyone had told her she would meet a vampyre, however,
it is doubtful that she could ever have believed such a thing. Even in
her wildest of dreams, she could never have imagined Herr Dom, and when
he did appear, she knew right away. But, she didn't know that she knew
until he left, and until Hans knew it, too.

She could always tell when a magic moment was about to happen
and she had been telling Hans all afternoon that it would be a special
day.

"You are a dreamer," he laughed.

"So I am a dreamer. What is wrong in that?"

"Just don't let it run your life," he cautioned. "To be a dreamer
is not so bad. Just don't expect too much to come of dreams."

"I can dream," she insisted. "Someday I will make you dream as
well! You can not be cold blooded all of your miserable life!"

"And what makes you think my life has been miserable?" he asked.

"Because you haven't known me all of your life!" she laughed.

It was mid February and beginning to get dark outside. They had
decided there would not be any guests for the night and Gretchen turned
out the lights while Hans bolted the front door closed. Then they went
into the dining room, in the back of the inn, where they sat at a table
close to the balcony overlooking the distant city, and overlooking the dark.

A low fire flickered in the fireplace, providing the only light
in the room. Though it was winter, the weather was fair and they had the
doorway to the balcony open so as to enjoy the night view. She wore a
yellow cotton dress and blue sweater and he, as usually, was dashing in
his army uniform and jacket.

At the very moment Herr Dom entered their lives, they were gazing
silently into the low burning fire, both many leagues away from the
realities of a cruel and ugly world. All at once Gretchen felt something
warming the back of her neck, just at the base, as if someone was staring
at her. When she turned, Herr Dom was there.

"Hans," she said, reaching her hand across the table and touching
his. "Hans, we have a guest."

"A guest?" Hans replied. "But how? I am sure I bolted the door."

"Perhaps you didn't slide the bolt enough," said the stranger.
"May I introduce myself, Dom is the name, one deposed count from a long
forgotten lineage of nobility that once ruled much of Romania. Dom is the
only name--Your servant, to be
sure. I have been many days on the way to my home, which is now the very
same city we can see so magnificently from your very balcony!"

"But you are nearly home," Hans said. "Why do you stop now?"

"I bring news from your cousin in Zurich," replied Herr Dom.

"Cousin Vera?" asked Gretchen joyously. "My cousin Vera? Is she
well? How did you come to find her? We have not heard in months!"

"She is well," said Herr Dom. "And she asked that I stop here
to let you know. And now I fear this journey has made me so weary that I
can no longer travel this night! Perhaps, if you have the room..."

"But, of course dear Count!" said Gretchen. "I could not permit you
to leave without telling me more!"

"How on earth did you get in and out of Switzerland?" asked Hans.
"Nobody can do such a thing today."

"To those in the dark," replied Herr Dom, "there are no frontiers.
We come and go at will."

"What is this you say? This is unbelievable!" said Hans.

"Hans, please," said Gretchen. "Our guest is tired. Surely there
is an explanation for even your doubting mind. But let us find it tomorrow.
Herr Dom, please sit and enjoy the night view with us. We were just
about to open a bottle of wine."

And so the night began. As the conversation passed, the closer
Gretchen became to Herr Dom, and the more wondering became Hans. They talked
about Switzerland, and her cousin, and her aunt and uncle and when every
thing was known, they talked about Germany before the war and springtime
and the wonderful zoo just in the city; Herr Dom could even point out where
the zoo was from the balcony.

In little time, well before the stroke of midnight on the mantle
clock, they had grown to be great friends and had even opened their third
bottle of wine.

"I still want to know how you crossed the frontier into Switzerland!"
demanded Hans suddenly.

"I have already told you," replied Herr Dom. "In the dark!"

"Maybe he flew!" laughed Gretchen.

"Yes, I flew in the dark! See my cloak!" he laughed, swishing his
cloak around his neck. "My cloak is wings!"

"Yes, of course," said Hans. "You must be a vampyre and have wings
that you can fly across frontiers!"

"In the dark! Yes, in the dark my soul doth fly!" he laughed.

"I'll get to the bottom of this," Hans promised. "Before you leave,
I will know the truth."

"Yes, you surely shall," agreed Herr Dom. "You shall both know the
truth with the morrows light!"

"Now both of you stop it," said Gretchen. "All of this talk of
vampyres has brought to mind some things I would just as soon not think
upon this night."

"Are you thinking about Mae again, dear Gretchen?" asked Hans. "It
really is unfortunate. Mae is a very dear friend of the family, who happens
to be a wonderful ice skater and ..."

"Mae Giessler?" asked Herr Dom. "Are you talking about Mae Giessler?"

"You know Mae?"

"Yes, yes," replied Herr Dom. "I know her."

"Do you indeed, Herr Dom? Have you seen her skating?"

"Oh, many times," he said. "Yes, it is such a joy to watch
her on the ice, I could spend forever watching such beauty."

"And she is such a dear," laughed Gretchen. "How her face
just lights up whenever she is happy."

"I know, and happy all the time. I have never seen her to be
anything but happy." said Herr Dom. "I recall the very first time I
met her, how her smiling just attracted me right away to her, as if
she could make all of our problems just melt away. I had called on a
friend and Mae was there and all excited about skating that very
night. Do you know, she didn't even know me, and she invited me to
watch her skate that night..."

"Did you go?"

"But of course!" he laughed. "You can not say no to Mae,
who could deny such beauty? It was the first time I have ever watched
fancy skating..."

"Figure skating, Herr Dom," corrected Hans. "Nobody fancy
skates anymore, it is figure skating."

"Yes, and what a joy to watch. I fear I must have fallen dearly
in love with the impression she made. That very night, and when she had
finished we talked for hours..."

"My, Herr Dom," said Gretchen. "You must have known Mae quite
well. She has never mentioned you to us, has she Hans?"

"It was such a lovely night," said Herr Dom. "I fear I was some
what reluctant to let it end."

"Did you know, Herr Dom, that she has been seeing an older man?"
asked Hans.

"Hans!" said Gretchen. "I don't think you should have said that
now!"

"An older man?" inquired Herr Dom.

"Well," said Gretchen, "we don't know a lot about him. Just that
he is older than she and it has affected her skating somewhat. I suppose
that since Hans has told you this much, then you should know what we
know about it all. It was only last month while I was visiting that I
first heard about it. We had gone to watch her perform, a lot of important
people, some from Berlin, were there. It was a very special night for
her career and everyone was praying that she do her best. And that is
just what she did..."

"I know," interrupted Herr Dom. "I was honored to see the very
same performance as you that very night. Wasn't she just wonderful?"

"Absolutely!" smiled Gretchen. "Everyone just went wild when she
made her entrance. I have never seen such beauty on ice before and may
never again, as long as I live. The night was hers completely and we
thought she would surely honor us with her company after the performance,
but Herr Dom, you can never guess!"

"She went with 'him'!" Hans grunted.

"Did you see?" asked Herr Dom.

"Nobody saw," said Gretchen. "This is what is so amazing about
the whole thing, Herr Dom. Nobody has ever seen him, or even heard his
name spoken. Nobody knows who this older man might be."

"How do you know it is an older man?" asked Herr Dom.

"Oh she has told me so," replied Gretchen. "Only the night
before after dinner, she and I were talking in the garden just in
back of their house, and she asked me if I had ever been in love with
an older man."

"Well don't keep us in suspense," said Hans. "Have you?"

"Most certainly not!" Gretchen replied. "And I told Mae as
much, too. But when I asked if she might be, she never would tell me
one way or the other. I could tell. But I never once thought it would
bring her down so terribly, not to the point of making the poor dear
sick. It was only last week that her mother was so worried that she
consulted her physician. Mae had seemed to have lost interest in
everything, she would not eat or drink anything, and she was so very
pale that her mother wondered if she had any red blood in her."

"Now get this, Herr Dom," said Hans. "Her physician wanted to
know if Mae had done any blood letting, you know, draining her very own
blood."

"Or if they knew any vampyres!" Gretchen laughed. "Herr Dom, as
if they knew a vampyre who was drinking her blood. Why, Herr Dom that is
as foolish as we just laughing about you being a vampyre. What would ever
make a learned physician inquire as to such a preposterous thing do you
suppose?"

"Did they suggest anyone to the physician?" asked Herr Dom.

"Of course not!" said Gretchen. "I guess you have not seen Mae
since all of this, have you Herr Dom? How long have you been gone?"

"Just over three weeks," he replied. "No, I have heard nothing."

"Do you know of an older man she was seeing?"

"No, no one," he said. "She mentioned no older man."

"Well I just think it's terrible that she is destroying her life
over an older man." Gretchen sighed. "She has such a wonderful talent in
her skating, and to think it would all come to nothing."

"Maybe she will get over it," Hans said.

"Over it?" inquired Herr Dom.

"Yes," said Gretchen. "We have heard that this man, whomever he
might have been, has gone somewhere and that is part of Maes moodiness.
Perhaps he will stay gone for good, and she will be back to her old
self."

"We can only hope so," said Hans.

"Well her mother has taken her to Berlin to see a physician," said
Gretchen. "Maybe he will put an end to this vampyre foolishness."

"Do you think he will have a cure for love?" asked Herr Dom.

"There's something strange about you!" said Hans.

"It's my age, I fear," replied Herr Dom. "A thousand years of death."

"Foolishness!"

"Please, Hans," sighed Gretchen. "Be nice."

"Do you know in America," said Herr Dom, "it is nearly Valentines
Day. If we were in America, I would call on you, my beautiful Gretchen,
with a box of chocolate from Pennsylvania, and give to you a valentine
card in the shape of a heart, with secrets of love only you could read!"

"A valentine?"

"But we are not in America!" snapped Hans.

"They are coming," said Herr Dom. "The Russians will be here and
they will rule our lives forever!'

"Russians?" said Hans. "Nobody will rule Germany but Germany!"

"They will be here," said Herr Dom, gazing wistfully out over
the city below them. "It will not be good, at first, then it will be better
I think. We will have a very hard time with the Russians. Better off will
be those with America than the Russians! Do you know the Russians are
almost on us at this very minute? They will be here within days,
I fear much misery for our lives. We would be better off if the Americans
got here before the Russians ever do!"

"Valentines!" Said Hans. "We have valentines in Germany!
What does a valentine have to do with the Americans coming. You want
to see Americans? Look down there, we have Americans in chains! And we
have English in the very same chains! Right there in the railroad
station doing anything we tell them to do! We have them prisoner! Do you
think they will bomb us? Like Bremen? Like Hamburg? Like all the other
cities to the north, why would they bomb us? What have we here but
their very own people as prisoners to bomb?"

"It would be quite a show, for the world to see." said Herr Dom.

"Maybe they bomb us with chocolate and valentines," laughed Hans.

"It is not Valentine Day, yet," replied Herr Dom.

"Would you really give me a valentine?" asked Gretchen, reaching out
and laying her hand over Herr Doms.

"May I have the chocolate?" laughed Hans. "I have never enjoyed
chocolate from Pennsylvania! Is it better chocolate than the Swiss!"

"I fear my love this night -- doth be in need of bite..." mused
Herr Dom. "...my soul doth rule my heart, and lead me to the night..."

"Foolishness!" screamed Hans, slamming his hands down on the table.
"Utter foolishness! You are no count and you are not any vampyre! There
are no vampyres! You are a lunatic and that is all you are!"

"Stop it! Stop it!" snapped Gretchen to Hans, as she leaned on the
tables edge and stared him defiantly in the eyes.

"I'm afraid Herr Voegel has not much of a romantic soul," grinned
Herr Dom. "You are right, of course. There are no vampyres and there are no
Nazis. Not in Germany this day. When the Russians get here, there will be no
Nazis to be found, not in all of Germany!"

"I could have you shot! How did you know my name?" yelled Hans.

"Not even you can kill death itself!" laughed Herr Dom. "Your evil
makes my valentine gift to your beloved the most precious gift on earth.
Your evil makes me a saint among the gods. Even you, even you, Herr Voegel,
will deny it in the morning light. Remove your coat! Cloth yourself in
something so they will not know what you are!"

"I have nothing to be ashamed of!"

"You are Germanys destruction!" said Herr Dom.

"Stop it! Stop it now!" pleaded Gretchen. "Please, can't we just
stop it? Let's talk about something else. Must it always be about the
war and dying? Can't we talk about children, or weddings or music? Herr
Dom, do you know about music? I have some phonograph records, some from
America. Do you like music? I just love to dance. But my phonograph is broken
now! Have you ever been dancing Herr Dom?"

"But of course..."

"With a princess no doubt!" laughed Hans.

"Hans! Stop it now!"

"I'm sorry." he sighed, leaning back into his chair.

"I have been to many balls, before..." Herr Dom said softly,
smiling as if in the midst of very pleasant memories.

"Pray tell us now." Hans almost whispered.

"Yes, yes," said Herr Dom, ignoring Hans' remark. "When I was like
everyone -- else; it seems so long ago. I never really missed it, until this
very minute.."

"Mother of Jesus!" said Hans hopelessly.

"Look out at the city," said Herr Dom. "Just see how magnificent
it is at night, yes I recall many such nights at the finest balls in the
land! And the orchestras! They would play the most beautiful waltzes ever
composed! We would dance, how we would dance! I can hear them now! Just
listen to the orchestras! Have you ever heard such beauty?"

"You hear a waltz?" asked Gretchen, placing her hand on his
shoulder. "Are you sure, Herr Dom? I hear no music."

"Yes! Yes, a waltz like no other waltz!" he said, turning and
grasping her waist as if about to take the lead. "Listen! Isn't it the
most wonderful orchestra?"

"I can't hear..." she said.

"Listen! Just listen with all your heart!"

"Yes," she said, smiling slightly. "I believe I do hear something."

"You hear the waltz?" shouted Herr Dom.

"Yes!"

"You hear the waltz, the orchestra playing our very own waltz?"

"Yes! Yes! I hear it now! Isn't it beautiful?"

Together they danced around the dimly lit room to the sound they
alone could hear. It was a magnificent waltz, one meant only for the
dreamers of the world, a waltz of hope, and love, and life. Together they
flowed to the strings that filled the night and the room with a promise
of tomorrow.

"Lunatics!" shouted Hans.

"Come join us, Hans!" Gretchen said.

"There is no music!" he insisted. "You have gone as mad as he!"

"There is music!" she insisted. "It is the most beautiful waltz
ever! Just listen to the music, Hans!"

"There is no music!"

Suddenly he got up from the table and bolted across the room
and onto the balcony. Over the city, almost on the horizon was a green
light. It was falling slowly downward, then another light and they grew
brighter as they fell closer to the ground. They seemed to be several
kilometers away, but now at their brightest, they reflected off of Hans'
face.

There was the very distant sound-the air raid sirens were going
off again-and another sound that was growing louder, yet still very, very
far away, as a roar of engines he had heard before, and then the faint
sound of anti aircraft gunfire from the city. Quite suddenly the sound of
explosions filled the night, slowly at first, then, as the roar of engines
seemed to be multiplied, the blasts came closer together.

"There is your waltz!" Hans shouted. "I hear it now! Listen to
your music now! Just how beautiful is your music now!"

"No! No!" cried Gretchen, rushing to the balcony and looking
in horror.

"That is your music!" he insisted.

"The sound of the dead!" said Herr Dom. "They are coming."

They could see flashes of light now, all over the city and the sound
of distant bombs exploding in the night. All the while the steady roaring
of airplane engines growing louder and then straining heavily as if racing
upwards into the black sky and under tremendous power! Everywhere down in
the city flashes of exploding bombs bursted the darkness into a flashing
chaos of light, and there were so many explosions that their sounds became
a rumbling, and they could even feel blasts from the combined combustions
and trembling in the very hillside they were on.

"Dresden! Dresden! My beloved Dresden!" cried Herr Dom. "What have
they done to you!"

"My friends are down there!" said Hans. "There must be a thousand
airplanes out there! I have to go..."

"Don't be a fool!" said Herr Dom. "There is nothing you can do. It
is over now."

"But they are destroying Dresden."

"There's nothing you can do, Hans." said Gretchen. "Herr Dom is
right, please don't leave me now, Hans."

"Herr Dom is with you."

"I must go," said Herr Dom. "I can not stay now. Look, the fires are
only beginning to burn in the city. In a few minutes, it will be too bright
for me to leave. The light is already blinding my sight! I must go at once!"

"But where will you go now?" Gretchen pleaded. "Surely you can't
go into the city!"

"Into the dark! I have to go now!" He jumped onto the banister and

flung himself off the balcony and disappeared into the darkness below them.


"No! Hans! Do something!"

"What has the fool done!" said Hans. "See what he has done! The
man is a madman! He has killed himself!"

"No! No!" cried Gretchen. "He would never do that!"

"But no one could survive such a fall." he said. "I will go down and
see, but no one could ever survive such a fall."

"He's not there, Hans," Gretchen said, staring into the darkness
below them. "You will not find him down there."

"Not there? But where, then..." he said.

"He's gone. Into the dark."

"Into the dark?" questioned Hans. "Into the dark? Then he must be..."

"He's all he said." she sighed.

All at once the sound of the airplanes began to grow fainter and
more distant, and the thudding explosions of bombs came to an end. Then the
roaring of engines faded into the night and only an occasional explosion
could be heard. Tiny fires were everywhere in front of them, growing and
spreading in front of their very eyes; so far away on the horizon yet so
close to their very lives. As the fires grew, so grew their feelings of
complete helplessness and hopelessness.

"Yes," he said, grasping her hand in his. "He could not be there,
could he? He is all he said."

"Oh Hans," she sobbed finally. "What are we to do? Are the Russians
really so close?"

"They will be here," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

"I have heard stories," she said, leaning her head against his chest.

"There are always stories," he said. "It will not be easy. Maybe
there, down in Dresden, maybe they are the lucky ones. They will not have to
see the Russians when they come. They will never have to know."

The fires in the city were spreading and becoming brighter and
brighter, lighting up the entire sky in front of them. They stood watching
in silence, unable to even move, as if anything they did would make the
fires more intense. They were both crying, their emotions frozen in silent
agony and horror as the fires spread and joined together in a silent
dance of death before their very eyes, until there appeared to be only
one fire born of thousands of fires.

After a while, he breathed a deep sigh, turned to her, and
placed his hands on her waist.

"May I have the next waltz, dear Gretchen?" he said.

"What?" she said. "What did you say?"

"I believe it is time for the next waltz."

"Do you hear it, Hans?"

"I hear it," he replied. "Yes, I hear!"

"The music?"

"Yes, I hear the most beautiful waltz ever!" he said as joyously
as he could. "May I have this waltz?"

He grasped her waist and her hand firmly, and they began dancing
around the balcony to the music they alone could share. And in the light
of their beloved city, they waltzed, and they waltzed, into the dark.