Angelica By The Collector A cold night in old Romania or It was Angelica’s strength…not a stake in the heart. Copyright 1999 The Collector This story is adult in nature and should not be read by anyone under 21. Send comments to ChuckSt35@aol.com It was a dark and proverbially stormy night. My sister, Angelica and I weary from a day’s travel came upon an old castle tucked away neatly in the hills along our route. The year is 1817. Our horses are tired, the carriage most uncomfortable, and the driver, a crusty one, needed a rest as well. We parked at the entrance then approached the doorway, three weary travelers all, hoping to find a courteous soul to board us for the evening. I rapped on the large metal handle on the wooden door. It was the third time before a pair of eyes through a sliding wooden door answered it. “Guests, master.” I heard through the door in a very descript, albeit formal voice. “Very well, Igor, I’ll see to them.” The door opened slowly, revealing a tall, well-dressed man, his dark hair slicked back. “Good evening, may I help you?” While he was speaking to the group, his eyes were clearly on Angelica. “Yes, good sir. We’re weary from our travels and were wondering if we could impose on you for a night’s rest…for a fee of course?” “A pleasure to be a hostel to people such as yourselves…do come in.” He was most courteous to us, even though we were strangers. “I am Arthur Armstrong…my sister Angelica, and our driver Edgar. So kind of you to take us in.” I noted with pleasure. “An honor sir. And I am…Count Drac…call me Count…welcome to my home. Come…you must be starved. Igor will prepare a meal for you/” * * * Igor prepared a dinner of ham and the finest vegetables. We were starved, but I thought it odd the Count didn’t eat or drink during dinner. Perhaps because his eyes were on Angelica the entire evening. I couldn’t blame him either. She was wearing the late Victorian fashion of the day with her golden hair piled high upon her head with a few locks hanging tantalizingly down the sides. While she was short, at 5’4”, she was strikingly beautiful. Her dress was floor length and tight at the waist with a binding corset, though one was hardly needed. Her breasts were somewhat larger than a normal woman’s, accentuated by the cleavage in her low cut dress. Her blue eyes were innocent, yet could pierce when they had to. At only 19, she was still naïve to the ways of the world and quite shy as well. “Angelica, you’re quite lovely my dear. From where do you and your brother come?” “From Dublin sir. I have family not far from here and I wish to see them. It’s been many years.” “Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your visit. What would your family name be?” “Armstrong sir, as my brother said.” “Of course…I know the name, though I’ve not been able to er…meet any of them in my travels. I hear there’s a legend of the Armstrong family.” “Yes sir, I believe there is. The family name comes from an ancestor of mine, Lydia.” “Yes. As I hear it, she was a woman of exceptional strength who also had a daughter of equal or greater strength, stronger than even most men. An unusual tale if I do say so.” “Yes sir.” “And would you Angelica, be one of these strong women as well? You hardly look the type.” “I think I’m rather strong sir.” “Angelica, it’s not polite to boast of one’s self” I said quickly. “I’m sorry Arthur…I was just being polite.” “Of course she was. But I must be off to bed now…it’s getting late” said the Count. “And we’re tired as well Count. I thank you for your hospitality…we all thank you.” “You’re quite welcome…Igor will show you to your rooms.” Igor led us upstairs, providing exceptional rooms for each of us, each with a balcony and a view of the cloudy evening outside. I threw open my own balcony doors to the unusually quiet outside. Not a bird, a cricket, not the slightest noise. How odd I thought. * * * “Igor…I must have her. Did you see how beautiful she is?” “But master…you heard what she said.” “Oh yes, yes…in that sweet little voice. I think I’m rather strong sir. She’s but a woman Igor…and a beauty at that.” “But sir…the Armstrong legend…” “Just a myth Igor…a wonderful story for the peasants to please themselves with.” “But she may be the one. The legend says an ancestor of Lydia’s will return from far away. It could be her.” “Nonsense…she’ll be mine tonight Igor.” * * * The Count left his room in an instant then suddenly found himself on the balcony to Angelica’s room. He watched as she disrobed, easing herself out of her tight dress to reveal a petticoat in which she looked quite becoming. Her full breasts seemed even bigger now than previously. She raised her arms to let her hair down and the count noticed an unusual rise in both her upper arms. “My, my…a beauty with muscles…perhaps she is strong…certainly not as strong as she is beautiful.” Her hair fell from her head to the top of her back in golden curls that shined in the dim light. The Count eased in the doorway for a better view. Angelica took a hairbrush and began brushing her hair. With each stroke, her arm again seemed to rise; almost having a mind of it’s own. “This is most unusual…and how delightful. A beauty such as this…her muscles are most…sensuous…they make her even more attractive…irresistible. What an unusual feeling coming over me…I simply must have her…I will have her.” The Count stepped out of the doorway, knocking over a plant on the way out. “Who’s there?” Angelica called. She stepped out onto the balcony and felt a cool wind rush by. She returned to the room, closing the balcony doors behind her and returned to her dresser to finish her hair. Moments later, she heard a voice. “Angelica, you look lovely my dear.” She turned around and the Count was standing only a few feet from her. “Count…what are you doing here?” “I’ve come for you Angelica.” “Come for me? For what?” He moved closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t’ move, but remained in place, wary of what he was to do next. “You’re so beautiful Angelica…you really must stay…I insist.” “I can’t stay sir…not possibly.” His hands then moved slowly down her arms. Instinctively, she brought her arms to her waist. As she did, he felt something quite unusual in his hands. “Angelica…this is…I’ve never felt…muscles like this on a young woman before. This isn’t possible.” “As I said sir…I’m rather strong…for a woman.” She looked back at him, her innocence betraying nothing of her strength. “But…they’re quite large…even for a man…surely you’re not as strong as your arms feel.” “Sir…I’m actually stronger…now if you’ll unhand me…I’ll be going to bed after you leave.” “But Angelica…your strength…I must have your strength…and your beauty…” “Please let go Count…I don’t want to hurt you…but if I must…I shall…I’m very capable.” He gripped her arms harder, then felt a sudden rush from Angelica as she started raising her arms. “What are you doing my sweet?” he asked cautiously. “You’ll not trust my word of my strength…perhaps you have to be shown.” Her arms were raised, her biceps perpendicular to the floor, her arms at nearly 90 degrees. Angelica looked up at him then clenched her fists, the determination in her eyes evident to him. “Angelica…what…” He stopped in mid-sentence as her fists started to rise, then he saw the mounds rising from both her arms. “No…no…it can’t be…your muscles Angelica…” “You didn’t take my word…perhaps you’ll believe me, now that you’ve seen the muscles in my arms.” She smiled and flexed her arms further as her biceps continued to rise, first stretching the fabric in her sleeves, then tearing through them. “I must have them Angelica…your strength…I must.” The Count reached down, his hands on her arms, and moved close to her neck. Angelica jumped from her chair and stood across from him. “I’ve told you of my strength…and I’ve shown you as well…must I demonstrate my strength for you also?” “Angelica…do you know what I am? Do you know why you couldn’t see me in the mirror?” “No…I don’t know…wait…oh no…it can’t be…I thought those were myths.” “Only for non-believers my dear. You now know what I am…and you know there’s no one stronger than us.” He walked towards her…then moved closer, and grabbed her hands. She twisted out of his grasp easily, as he looked at her, astonished at how little resistance he offered…and at how strong she appeared to be. “Angelica…you can’t be…” “But I am Count” she said as she turned his arms inwards causing him to rise up, and causing great pain in his arms. “No…no Angelica…please…” She pushed harder then lifted him up with both arms. In the air, she pushed hard and sent him across the room, where he landed in an upholstered chair. He rose from the chair dazed and looked across at her. “You’ll not win twice Angelica.” He charged towards her, both hands reaching for her. As he came close to her, she put one hand out and caught him at his chest, knocking the wind from him. He then found himself being lifted off the floor by her single hand. “I’ll win every time against you Count…as you can see your strength is no match for mine.” She flung him towards the open balcony doors where he landed outside against a wrought iron railing. Angelica slipped her delicate feet into her slippers and walked outside where the Count lay, barely conscious. “Angelica…how…” he moaned in agony he hadn’t felt in…many many years. She reached to the railing and twisted a bar from it. She took the railing piece and, moving his leg close to the rail, took the piece and wrapped it around his leg. The Count watched as the iron piece was as putty in her hands. “You’ll rest here for the night Count…I must get some sleep. I’ll come for you at sunrise.” “I’ll not be here at sunrise Angelica…if you know the myth, you know I can free myself…in a different form.” “Then I shall have to ensure you don’t leave. Please forgive me Count.” She grabbed his shirt with her left hand, then with a quick movement of her right, she slapped his face hard enough to render him unconscious. She returned inside, closing the doors behind her and went to bed. * * * “Did you sleep well Angelica?” Arthur asked. “Igor’s prepared a wonderful breakfast for us, though I haven’t seen the Count this morning. Come and eat something…must keep your strength up.” “Most lovely, thank you Arthur…I’m famished.” They ate breakfast, then quickly carried their bags to their carriage. On the way out, Angelica looked behind her to see Igor upstairs on the balcony of her room. “You’re right Arthur, as always.” “About what dear sister?” “I do need to keep my strength up, don’t I?” “Of course…amazing strength for a woman though…hardly ladylike…now let’s be off.” “Of course Arthur.” She said smiling to herself. As Angelica waved to Igor, he smiled at her as he swept the ashes off the balcony floor.