e vile； animated mushroom； in the glade of Thibor's mausoleum。 He formed a rudimentary eye in its tip； expanded its pupil the better to see in the darkness。
He saw the dying man： a large； handsome man； which might explain the good strong blood； its quality and quantity。 An intelligent man； high browed。 And yet crumpled here on the hard earth； with his life leaking out of him down to the last few droplets。
Thibor couldn't save him； wouldn't if he could。 But neither would he let him go to waste。 A cursory glance of his obscene eye； to ensure that the woman was not ing out of her faint； and then he sent up a score of tiny red snouts from his gaping face： hollow tubes like little pouting mouths； to slide into the raw wound and draw on the last of the hot juices which flooded there。 Then…All of Thibor's hellish being surrendered itself to the sheer ecstasy…the black joy； the unholy rapture…of feeding； of drawing red sustenance direct from a victim's veins。 It was。。。 it was indescribable！
It was a man's first woman。 Not his first fumbling； hurried； uncontrolled eruption on to some girl's belly or into her pubic hair； but the first pumping of salving semen into the hot core of a groaning； sated woman。 It was a man's first kill in battle； when his enemy's head leaps free or his sword strikes home in heart or throat。 It was the sharp； stinging agony of a douse in some mountain pool； the sight of a battlefield； where the piled bodies of an army reek and steam； the adoration of warriors hoisting high a man's colours in recognition of his victory。 It was as sweet as all of these things…but alas； it was over all too quickly。
The man's heart no longer pumped。 His blood； what little remained； was still。 The great blotches of crimson were hardening and turning leaf…mould to clotted crusts。 Almost before it had begun； the marvellous feast was。。。 over？
Perhaps not。。。
The Thibor…thing's sight extension turned its eye upon the woman。 She was pale； attractive； fine…boned。 She looked like the fine toy lady of some rich Boyar； full of thin aristocratic blood。 Feverish highlights of colour gave her cheeks a fresh appearance； but the rest of her skin was pale as death。 Cold and growing colder； exposure would kill her if the old Thing in the ground did not。
The eye…stalk extended； elongated out of the earth。 Its colour was grey…green； mottled； but blood…red veins pulsed in it now； just beneath the surface of its protoplasmic skin。 It swayed closer to the woman where she lay； poised itself before her face。 Her breath； shallow； almost gasping； filmed the eye over and caused it to draw back。 In her neck； a pulse fluttered like an exhausted bird。 Her breast rose and fell； rose and fell。
The phallic eye swayed close to her throat； lidlessly observed the soft pulse of the jugular。 Slowly the eye dissolved away and the red veins in the leprous nodding mushroom shuddered beneath its skin and turned a deeper scarlet。 A reptilian mouth and jaws formed； taking the place of the eye； so that the tentacle might well seem a blind； smooth； mottled snake。 The jaws yawned open and a forked tongue flickered between many rows of needle…sharp fangs。 Saliva trickled from the distended jaws； slopped on the scummy earth。 The 〃head〃 of the awful member drew back； formed a deadly 〃S〃 like a cobra about to strike； and…And the Thibor…creature gave himself a great mental shake and froze all his physical parts to instant rigidity。 In the last possible moment he had realised what he was about to do； had recognised the extreme danger of his own naked lust。
These were not the old times but the new。 The Twentieth Century！ Except in ancient； crumbling records； his tomb here under the trees was forgotten。 But if he took this woman's life； what then？ Ah！ He knew what then！
Search parties would e out looking for them both。 They would be found sooner or later； here in the stirless glade； by the crumbling mausoleum。 Someone would remember。 Some old fool would whisper： 〃But…that place is forbidden！〃 and another would say； 〃Aye； for they buried something there long； long ago。 My grandfather's grandfather used to tell tales about the thing buried on those cruciform hills； to put fear in his children when they were bad！〃
Then they'd read the old records and remember the old ways； and in broad； streaming daylight they'd e； cut down the trees； uproot the ancient slabs； dig in the rotting soil until they found him。 They'd stake him down again； but this time。。。 this time。。。 this time they'd take his head and burn it！
They'd burn all of him。。。
Thibor fought a fearsome battle with himself。 The vampire in him； which had formed the major part of him for nine hundred years； was almost beyond reason。 But Thibor himself could still think like a man； and his reasoning was sound。 The vampire…Thibor was greedy for the moment； but the man…Thibor could see far beyond that。 And he had already laid his plans。 Plans which hinged on the boy Dragosani。
Dragosani was at school in Bucharest now； a mere lad in his teens； but the old Thing in the ground had already corrupted him。 He'd taught him the art of necromancy； shown him how to divine the secrets only dead things know。 And Dragosani would always return； would always e back here in his search for new knowledge； because the ancient Thing in the putrid earth was the very font of all dark mystery。
Meanwhile； a vampire seed or egg…the Thibor…creature's filthy； leech…like clone…was growing in him where he lay； a single drop of alien fluid which carried the plex code of the new vampire。 But that was a slow； slow process。 One day Dragosani； grown to a man； would e up here into these hills and the egg would be ready。 A man would e up here full of monstrous talent； seeking the ultimate secrets of the Wamphyri。。。 but when he went away； he would carry a fledgling vampire with him； inside him。
After that he would e again…would have to e again…by which time Thibor would be ready for the final phase of his plan。 Dragosani would e； Dragosani and Thibor would leave…together。 At last the cycle would be plete； the wheel turned full circle； when again the immemorial vampire would walk the earth…this time to conquer it！
That was how the old Thing in the ground had planned it； and that was how it would be。 He would rise up from here and go out again into the world。 The world would be his！ But not if he killed this woman here and now。 No； for that would be total madness； the very end of him and all his dreams。。。
The vampire in him succumbed to mon sense； reluctantly allowed the twisted but human mind of Thibor to take ascendancy。 Blood…lust receded； was replaced by curiosity； which in turn gave way to dormant； ages…repressed urges。 New feelings； entirely human feelings； awakened in the old Thing in the ground。 He was neither male nor female； now； Thibor…he was of the Wamphyri…but he had once been a man。 A lustful man。
He had known women； many women； in the five hundred years that his scourge had terrified Wallachia； Bulgaria； Moldavia； Russia and the Ottoman。 Some had been his willingly； but most had not。 There was no way a woman could be had which was unknown to him； no pleasure or pain a woman could offer that he had not been offered； or taken by force； times without number。
In the mid…fifteenth century； as a mercenary Voevod of Vlad Tepes the so…called 〃impaler〃； he had crossed the Danube with his forces and taken an emissary of the Sultan Murad。 The sultan's representative； his escort of two hundred soldiers； and his harem of twelve beauties were taken in the night in the town of Isperikh。 Thibor had shown leniency of a sort towards the Bulgarian townspeople： they were allowed to flee while his troops sacked the town and burned it； looting and raping when the inhabitants were slow off the mark。
But as for the sultan's emissary： Thibor had had him impaled； him and his entire two hundred； on tall； thin stakes。 〃In their own fashion；〃 he'd gleefully manded his executioners。 〃The Turkish way。 They like buggering little lads； this lot； so let 'em die happy； the way they've lived！〃 But the women of the harem： he'd had all twelve the same night； going from one to the next unstintingly； and carrying on all through the following day。