Phantom of Bohemia

The Phantom of Bohemia - Norman A. Rubin

Who could have heard the voice of the teller of tales, deep and grave, with a natural fullness and melody to which he told his story of horror. Who might not, by the very easy flight of fancy, have believed the haunting tale of the old storyteller? Who might have doubted his eerie words as he spun his fantasy epic? Yet his avid listeners hearkened to the very words of the ballad of the Vampire of the Brod Manor House...

At the foot of the Carpathian Mountains east of the River Vitava, where the wooded hills melt away into the fresh green of the valley, lies the village of Piseko. It is a small village of industrious craftsmen, honest traders and busy housewives. Yet, its fame lay in the legend of the vampire that haunted the manor during the era of Prince Vadislav Brod of the royal house of Bohemia.

The edifice, now derelict and abandoned, once stood proudly at the foot of the climbing wooded hills. The two storeyed ruined edifice is solitary and imposing to the sight. Two large bricked chimneys on the grey slated roof spoke of warmth and good cheer of the past years. Now the ancient pile of masonry with its butresses and angles creates dark shapes of mystery on the neglected grounds.

Legend relates that the Brod Manor on its well attended grounds were in the hands of the Brod family for many centuries. The family was proud in its royal right and they ruled their inherited land with a just and firm hand.

But in the middle of the nineteenth century the family was forced out by the cruel King Stanislav who doubted their loyalty to his royal court. Prince Vadislav and his family was ordered to move in the cold of winter to a dismal abandoned farm house that was set nearby; their home and property was impounded and passed to a toady of the king.

Yet, during the cold of that winter, the manor stood empty, haunted by ancient stirrings aroused from its stone walls during its direliction As the cold of winter months passed into the warmth of spring, the boot-licker to the king, a corpulent sycophant with the imposing name of Count Yager Bratislav and his family then settled into the Brod Manor House. It was a reward for the count’s methods of silencing the king’s opponents.

They reveled greedly in their ill-gotten gains; and soon enjoyed the pleasure of the gardens and the comfort of its ample furnishings. It followed with the Count’s apointment as liege and jurist of the Piseko Valley.

It seemed that Count Bratislav was proud of his appointment as liege of the valley, but his rule was inept in countless ways. The count’s ruling at court depended upon corrupt ways, which depended on status and bribe; the simple folk without recourse to a honored name or money paid the price of unfair judgement.

His companion in rule, the Countess Jenivia Bronya, despite her simple background, looked down upon the common folk with a snobbish air. The peasants paid her in return with a wormy apple or a rotten cabbage admist the shopping basket for the villa.

Within time the entire family of the lording count, the stout gossipy countess and their spinsterish gawky daughter Bronya, were disliked by the nearby villagers. The good people were civil to them, but the invitations to the manor house on festive occasions were ignored; only when members of the regal court took their hospitality there, the villagers were forced to attend certain functions held in the honour or the royal guests.

Then one summer evening when the last glimmering light died away from the from the ends of the valley, Countess Bratislav took to her bedchamber early on the plaint of discomfort to her stomach. She paused before entering her four-poster bed and went to the large lead lined window to take a breath of air. She unlocked the latch and pulled open the two framed partitions. As she took in the fresh whiff of air she looked to the darkened grounds. Then suddenly she noticed something strange in the vicinity of the pruned bushes lining the path to the manor.

It was something peculiar to her sighting, being two points of light, like fiery coal embers, moving from the bottom of the path towards the house. Slowly the bright points of lights coursed along the bushes, wavering in its movement. The dots of the mysterious glow stopped on top of the three stone steps leading to the porch and they played on the stone walls of the edifice.

By that time Countess Bratislav's curiosity on the sighting had given way to a deep-feeling of unease. She quickly closed the windows tightly, and bolted the door to the room. She skittered as quickly as her veined legs could run to her downy bed; she then hid under the blankets and sheets. The countess tried to play down the vision as mere superstition and attempted to get some sleep.

Sleep eventually covered her troubled mind and soon the sound of heavy breathing came from her thick lips. Suddenly, on the verge of her sleep she was roughly awakened by a low raspy rustling from outside the window.

She uncovered herself from white of the sheets and sat upright on the bed. She looked towards the window and saw two burning coals of light peering into the glass. Slowly a dark cloaked figure was outlined in the bright light of the full moon, which she recognized as a demon shadow. Jenivia Bratislav tried to scream but deep terror froze the sound in her throat.

The sound of rustling at the window gave way to scratching and picking at the lead around the triangular panes. Her frightened eyes saw that the creature's brutish hand had removed one glass pane then another, which fell to the floor with a splintering crash. She froze in abject horror as a skeletal hand reached in and opened the latch.

The window flew inwards and slowly the ghostly figure climbed in with ease. Slowly the mysterious creature made his way to the bed on the silence of its steps. Countess Bratislav could now hardly breath with fright, let alone scream; she laid back on the bed and prayed inwardly, “by the saints above protect me from this horror!”

At the side of her bed stood a towering figure of a man dressed in the black of night; she saw in the light of the moon that his face was pale with burning eyes and blood red lips. He bent over her, grasped her hair with his gnarled hands, and pulled her head back as if to deliver a kiss.

Count Bratislav and his daughter, busy in their reading pursuits in the large library on the lower floor, were aroused by a loud high-pitched scream that seemed to shake the very stone walls of the manor. The few servants of the household were alerted to the wail, but the count's personal valet, under orders, commanded them to return to their rooms.

With the faithful servant leading the way with a bright candelabra and bronze poker in hand, the count and his daughter mounted the stairs and skirted the long corridor to the bedchamber of the
countess. The oaken door was locked and the burly servant was ordered to smash it open with the poker; he broke through to a scene of devastating horror.

There on the bed was the limp plump body of Countess Bratislav; blood dribbled from gashes on the vein of her neck; a closer look revealed the teeth marks of some unknown creature. Further evidence to his being was a mouldy and foul stench in the room and muddy footprints that ran from the opened window to the bed.

While the daughter Bronya attended to the wounds of her mother, the count and his man-servant ran to the window; their feet crunched on the shards of the panes as they scurried to scan the grounds. As they looked through the open window they caught the sight of a shadowy figure whisking across the spacious lawn to the borders of the estate.

Countess Bratislav survived the attack, thanks to the able ministrations of her daughter who managed to staunch the flow of blood. Sedatives were in order, which allowed the distraught woman to have a quiet rest.

When the full story came from her lips the following morning, the count swore revenge. But when she heard of his husband's plan to seek out the phantom she tried to dissuade him as in her thought it was quite dangerous, "Alert the king's watch and together with their help you will be able to find the hiding place of that evil monster."

So it came to be on the following night, damp from a passing storm, Countess Bratislav had a second glimpse of bright points of light shining from the path. Once more the figure of a cloaked man appeared at the window and picked at the glass around the glass panes in order to gain access to the room.

That time Count Bratislav and his valet were lying in wait in the shadows of the corridor, as the shadowy figure came into the bedchamber. Then at the sound of a muffled scream from the countess, the two men burst into the room. “There is the monster,” came the cry. A brace of loaded pistols was in the hands of the count; when the creature tried to step into the room the count loosed shots at the mysterious form with shaking hands. They heard a low howl from the shadowed figure as he flew from the window and sped off at the direction to which it came.

Count Bratislav and his man-servant were in agreement not to follow the night creature into its domain, but to wait for watch due to arrive the the following morning. They agreed to a watch during the night hours and in turn offered protection to the countess by their near presence.

When the king's men arrived it was decided to take the countess as well as her daughter Bronya into safety. Her carriage, escorted by two riders at arms, took the road to the palace of the royal court. Count Bratislav breathed a note of relief when he saw the conveyance pulled by two swift horses making their way from the manor.

The search party, seven in all, gathered at the main hall of the grange to discuss their plans. Words flew back and forth and within a few minutes an agreement was reached for the course of action. They readied their armament, took to the place of flight of the past night,
and began the search for the vampire.

At first they went to the trampled earth under the countess's bedroom at the second storey of the house. The thick vines leading to the high window was broken and spots of blood coursing to the ground. Muddy footprints went through the spacious lawn and crashed through the flower beds and bushes.

The trail of mud and blood coursed to the village cemetery and the men searched for any disturbances to any of the graves and tombs. Finding none they turned their attention to the small stone chapel at a discrete corner of the graveyard. All was quiet when they entered
the small church and again the men saw muddy footprints leading to the crypt of the Brod family.

The searchers noticed that the bronze crypt door was slighty ajar. Pushing into the heavy portals they were met with a terrific sight, one of horror to the beholder. All around the crypt vault were remains of broken coffins and gnawed human bones. One sarcophagus stood alone
and seemed to be untouched by the chaos. The searchers noticed it was the sarcophagus of Lord Vladimir, the founder of the Brod dynasty.

Count Bratislav offered no respect for dignity to the remains of Lord Vladimir Brod. He quickly wrenched away the heavy cover of the coffin. As the coffin was forced open a large bat flew out. The winged creature made its way from the vault to the top of nearby tall tree, hanging secretly under its leaves. Droplets of dried blood were dotted on its wide wings. But when it screeched its call it sounded like, 'revenge, revenge!'

Nobody in the village knew where this strange creature of the night came from, but they understood it appeared through the centuries old Brod curse coming to fore. The terrible oath, was etched on the bronze door of the crypt;
"Woe be to the man who defiled the name of Brod,
A winged bat will fly,
Shadowy figures will arise
With burning embers of light,
Following the path of the usurper.
Sharp fangs will be unleashed,
And warm blood will flow..."

They elders of the village did not offer to explain why it remained dormant in the centuries of peace when the Brod family had inhabited the property; nor why it appeared upon the inhabitation of the manor by strangers. When questioned by king's men at arms, the villagers
y simply shrugged their shoulders.

From that day onwards Count Bratislav and his family were denied the peace and security of the manor house. The screech of a bat was heard nightly and its coal black eyes burned in the darkness. Through the following months the manor was rendered unihabitable by the count and the removable of the family was in order. The edifice was then resealed by the departing family

Soon the Brod Manor House stood in dereliction once more. Only when the Brod family returned to the house, upon the official pardon by King Stansislav, the phantom horror then crept back into its stone sarcophagus, never to be awakened. The sealed crypt remained locked,
only to be disturbed at the present day.

At the night hours, even to this very day, the good people of Piseko can still hear the screech of a large winged bat as it flew from ruins....