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'Behold, the secrets of the Dracula Clan.'
We are vampires.
'As told by four vampires and one hideously drooling drudge.
'Each with their own side of the story to tell.'
Also known as Vladdy...
..Vlad, and The Chosen One.
A spiritual leader of the world's vampire clans.
What an honour when I, Bertrand De Fortunesa,
was entrusted with guarding Vlad and fulfilling this destiny.
A momentous responsibility.
One I wish to share with future vampire generations.
So, I will set down here, in this journal...
..an account of the events that shaped Vlad's rise to glory.
And how, under my tutelage, he was an unprecedented success.
In keeping with most vampire clans,
the member of the Dracula family possess the most abhorrent qualities.
You devious, conniving, witch.
..unscrupulous craving for power...
..and a taste for random acts of cruelty.
In short, everything you could possibly hope for
in a bunch of undead, black-hearted vampires.
As young Vlad was growing up, his role model was
the head of the family, the Prince of Darkness himself, Count Dracula.
The most infamous and revered vampire for centuries.
His reputation for bloodlust was notorious.
I want blood and I want it now!
His refusal to show mercy to his victims was legendary.
Time for dinner.
And he had a nifty way with a bedtime story.
And so the sweet, young princess was bitten.
And the evil vampire lived happily ever after.
Dad, I'm too old for bedtime stories,
and I'm too young to be sleeping in a coffin!
Ah, you're never too young to learn good habits.
Now, it may seem a bit dark and scary at first,
but don't worry, Daddy's here to nail you in.
The Count made it his life's work
to raise his son in the grand vampire tradition.
Is Vladdy-waddy lonely? You're supposed to be my son and heir!
I never chose to be, did I?
Take it out on the monkey, why don't you?
Lock up your teddies, they'll be scared of you, now.
For a traditionalist, like the Count,
Vlad's modern thinking was hard to swallow.
I am not eating that, it's alive.
Oh, don't worry, Vlad, everybody gets first-bite nerves.
You need some practice until you're old enough to start on the peasants.
Be a brave boy, and bite the bunny.
I'm not biting the bunny. I'm not biting anyone.
You're a vampire, start acting like one!
Family frictions grew ever more intense
as clashes between father and son became more frequent.
-Go to your room!
Vlad could sound off to his wolfhound, Zoltan.
I hate being a vampire, it really sucks.
Isn't that rather the point?
And confide in his friendly slayer, Erin.
But there were some things he couldn't even tell them.
So he poured out his darkest thoughts into a private
and top-secret notebook.
A secret document whose contents were never to be revealed.
Which he really shouldn't have left lying about.
I've got to get this off my chest. There isn't a nice way of saying it.
Dad's a pain in the bat-wing.
I know that's harsh, but, we just don't see eye-to-eye.
What are you wearing?
I've joined the Scouts, is that all right?
Not till there's breath in my body.
No son of Dracula wears a woggle.
He sees me as one enormous vampiric let-down.
And now that I'm a threat, too,
it isn't exactly making for happy families.
-You can't tell me what to do any more.
-You think you can defy me?
I am your father, don't ever forget that!
Then what are you waiting for?
I suppose things were easier when I was younger.
Dad might have been a quick-tempered bloodsucker
who fire-balled the roof first
and didn't bother to ask questions later,
but at least I knew where I stood.
But The Chosen One business has changed all that.
Do you think I'm The Chosen One?
Don't be daft, you're a rubbish vampire, there's no way it's you.
If only Robin had been right.
No such luck, though.
Like it or not, wearing the crown of The Chosen One was my destiny.
You know you are The Chosen One
when you sacrifice the life you love to save the family you love.
RUMBLING AND SCREAMING
That's my Vladdy.
Vampires, be gone!
I was The Chosen One. Leader to hordes of devious, biting vampires.
My worst nightmare.
Now things between Dad and I could only go from bad to worse.
Because as my powers started to develop,
I was able to do stuff, like this...
HE CRIES OUT
Vladdy, I just think we need to be more sensible.
We? There is no we. All right?
Well, what a wonderful view it is up here.
If Dad and I continue fighting like this,
somebody is going to get really hurt.
And it isn't going to be me.
For the Count,
accustomed to being lord of all he surveyed for centuries,
the power shift between son and himself was troubling.
At his wit's end, he sought advice.
DRACULA HUMS MERRILY
Renfield, I require an amanuensis.
I need you to send a letter to my baby brother Ivan, Stateside.
I need you to be my amanuensis.
How do you mean?
-Just write down what I say!
-Oh. If it's an aman...
am..ata...bestibestis you're after,
-look no further. It's not going to hurt, is it?
Dear Ivan, you mad, bad bat out of Hell,
I've been reminiscing about the old days.
Remincing about the old days.
What ecstasy it was to be undead on those long, hot summer nights
back in the old country.
Hungry for knowledge about ancient vampire tradition, about etiquette.
About eating cats.
Putting into action everything our father taught us.
A good night's slaughter, little brother.
75 peasants. HE BELCHES.
And I haven't finished yet.
-I got myself a takeaway.
Just how I hoped it would be with my own fanglet and heir.
-Come to measure me for my coffin?
-But good thinking, we can do that later.
-Neither can I.
This will bring us so much closer.
We can go out flying and hunting and terrorising together,
father and son.
-No! I'm not you, Dad. I never will be.
-But you will be a vampire.
-There's no escaping that.
-Then at least let me have three more years.
It's time you grew up and accepted some responsibility.
I did imagine he'd outgrow this defiance with age.
-I'm disappointed in you, Vlad.
-You always are.
-You lack discipline.
You're insubordinate, and worst of all, you never listen to me.
-You never listen to me.
-I don't need to. I know what's good for you
and like it or not you have to learn in order to fulfil your potential.
But, dear brother, it's a thorny business
when a young fang becomes a fully-grown bloodsucker.
I recall there was a certain amount of huffing and puffing
when your own boy, Boris, reached that fickle age.
-Any last requests?
-Yeah, can we do this a different time?
You're not going anywhere, Doris.
Then again, coming of age can bring all sorts
of hidden personality quirks to the fore.
For all we born vampires,
facing the blood mirror on our 16th birthday is a momentous occasion.
-And it certainly brought out the beast in Boris.
Lock up your daughters! Look at you!
What a transformation!
Boris turning into a homicidal maniac,
draining you and I, his own father, and uncle, of our powers...
..in a bid for total dominance over the Dracula family.
How gratifying, and yet, unsettling it must have been for you.
I own this family. No-one can stop me.
I'm the king of the world!
To be honest, there's been the odd locking of horns going on here, too.
'Vladdy just doesn't appreciate the importance of tradition.
'Especially the bit about biting whoever you want,
'whenever you want.'
VLAD'S FINGERS SNAP AND SHE STOPS SINGING
What do you think you're doing?
I was just about to ask you the same question.
That song is Transylvanian, she must be from the Old Country.
-It's years since I've had a home-cooked meal.
-No, you can't.
I'm your father. Pick a fight with me, boy, and you will lose.
I said, no.
I'm so sorry...
'To conclude, Ivan, your advice on this matter would be most welcome.
'Your ever-hating brother, Count Dracula.'
So, as you can see,
just the usual vampire father-son thing going on in the Dracula family.
Young Vlad has been shaped by his parents, especially his father.
But not necessarily in the way that the Count hoped.
Vlad has shown himself to be very much his own vampire,
and that has meant rejecting everything his father holds dear.
Much to the Count's dismay.
So, all that is left for the mighty Count Dracula is to hope
there will always be a part of Vladdy that is his father's son.
Only time will tell whether he will be disappointed.
Arrange a carrier raven for my missive and await further orders.
Right away, master. But first,
time for a little dictation of my own.
My father, he was a man of many parts...
Here, write that down.
Oh, it's just me.
he was a man of many parts.
'I wouldn't say he was a bad father.
'He was the worst, cruellest,
'unkindest father you could ever imagine.
'Yeah, that's nearer the mark.
'Until the day he met the most grizzly, gristly end
'at the fangs of Zoltan and his wolfy pals.'
Renfield Senior had this habit of skulking outside the castle.
You have to remember,
I hung out with a bad pack of hell-hounds in those days.
One moonless night, my muchachos and I ambushed someone
by the south tower.
By the time we realised it was Renfield Senior,
all that was left of him was what's in my basket.
that's a little accident I had earlier. The bone.
So he took his secret to the grave?
No longer a problem.
And that was that.
Until young Master Vlad got the notion to bring back my dad.
He got it into his head that Renfield Senior
might possess the knowledge he desired above all else.
The secret of how to get out of becoming a vampire.
So, he got his mitts on my most private manuscripts,
studied their monstrous contents,
and used what he learnt to carry out an unspeakable act of dark alchemy.
Bringing my dad back from the grave.
DRUDGE GURGLES AND BREATHES
-And it's naked.
What have you done?
Who are you?
'Seeing him once more, it all came flooding back.
'The scorn, the insults, the constant fear of Chinese burns.
'The man who made me the quivering bag of nerves I am,
'lived and breathed again.'
-Why have you never liked me, Dad?
-Because you're weak.
I told you not to let them Draculas walk all over you. But look at you.
You've got their boot marks all over your back.
-The Count's not really like that. Deep down.
-Deep down nothing.
I let him and his father get away with treating me like dirt
because it was always, "We'll grant you immortality one day, Renfield."
But did they?
Did they cods.
Even after I offered to let them drain your blood
-on your 18th birthday.
Oh, I thought you knew that.
On reflection, a syringe and eight empty milk bottles
was not the 18th birthday present I had been expecting.
Apparently, your dad's running riot up at the castle
and you're the only one who knows enough about alchemy to stop him.
But I can't.
I'm too weak.
Renfield, we've been through this before. You're not weak.
-It's time for you to stand up to him.
-But there's no point,
now Dad's going to destroy my master.
'My father made my life a misery.
'It has only been the constant indifference and ingratitude
-'of my master...
-..That has helped rebuild my confidence.'
-Do you want these worms in your face?
-I'd rather eat them.
'And now it was time for me to thank him for all those unkindnesses.'
'By standing up to my dad.'
-I'm not going to let you hurt my master.
-Don't make me laugh!
You won't stop me. You haven't got the bottle.
See, you're rubbish.
Now clear off, mummy's boy!
You keep Mum out of this. She was twice the man you are!
She was weak, like you.
"You are so dead."
What's that? What's happening?
The antidote to regeneration.
Second rule of alchemy, always be prepared!
You're going back to where you came from, a bone in a dog's basket.
No! You had to pick now to stand up to me, didn't you?
You snivelling, little...
So that was that.
Funny, really, how little family resemblance there was between us.
But I like to think it's just one of those genetic quirks
-that makes the world such a fascinating place.
< Have you seen my daughter?
-< How very galling.
< I remembered something vile I wanted to say to her
< and I'd hate to forget it before I could pass it on.
Sure you have.
Wouldn't want to leave Ingrid out of Vlad's story.
Not that she'd let that happen, especially now.
Ingrid Dracula, daughter of the Prince of Darkness,
bane of her brother's life and now...
queen of the video bloggers.
The role of the daughter in the vampire family unit
has always been simple.
Keep quiet, keep out of the way, and keep the castle tidy.
And that has got to change.
And that's where Ingrid Dracula's blog comes in.
The self-help guide for the modern vampiress.
Sisters, we all know the feeling.
The vampire world is stuck in the Middle Ages.
You can be as evil as you like, but if you're wearing a skirt,
Now, fly into my arms. Come on, fly! Fly like a bat.
Dad, this is stupid.
It's not stupid, it's fun.
Now, come on, every young vampire must learn how to fly.
-So, why haven't you taught me yet?
-Oh, Ingrid, I've told you,
it's because you're a girl.
You might go to any kind of lengths to impress,
to get people's attention.
To show that the female of the species
can be as deadly as the male.
You think I'm going to stand back and watch you inherit my castle,
you're more stupid than he looks.
Do you think I like being Count Junior?
Dad's waited 600 years for a son and heir.
It would have made my life a lot easier if I was born a girl.
You know, you really shouldn't say that out loud.
I'm going to show Dad why I should be his favourite.
I'm going to be the biggest troublemaker this school has seen.
Ooh, opening an umbrella indoors, that's bad. You go, girl.
Dad's not going to be impressed by that.
'But somehow, however hard you try to be evil...'
I stand corrected. I'm wet.
'..it never seems to work out.'
-Wait till my dad hears about this.
-You won't have to wait very long.
-Vlad's probably telling him as we speak.
Van Helsing suspended him and Robin over the fire alarm.
-They're in a lot of trouble because of you.
PARTY HORNS AND CHEERING
Bravo, Vlad, bravo!
-I'm guessing the school rang you, then?
Vlad, I knew you could do it!
Haven't we all wondered what it would be like
to have our talents noticed by the head of the house?
Although, there was that one time.
Hey, princess, how's it hanging?
Dad, I want you to look into my eyes. Deep into my eyes.
You know, Ingrid,
you really are growing up to be a lovely young lady.
I've been reading your school report
and I just know you could do a whole lot better.
I am here for you. We can sit down and work this thing out.
You want to spend time with me?
As long as it takes.
But you never want to spend time with me.
That's all going to change.
I love you, Ingrid.
I love you, too, Dad.
Hey, what is it, sugarplum?
This is wrong. You're wrong.
That doesn't count, though. He'd been hypnotised.
So, what's needed? The answer is obvious.
What we need is women in power.
Or should I say, sneaky, treacherous women in power?
I'm cancelling this right now.
-How do I do that?
-You don't. Only I can cancel the contract.
You devious, conniving witch.
You say all the right things.
'My mother, Magda. So evil,
'so selfish, so in control. It's what you need to be,
'sisters, if you want to get on in the vampire world.'
'She has what I call the three D's.
'She's decisive, devious...'
I think that sounds fair.
'..and a tiny bit deranged.'
Isn't she just the most evil woman in the world?
'And like mother, like daughter.'
I'll decide what I MUST do.
'So when the day came for me to take control of this family...'
Because I'm in charge now.
'I seized it with both treacherous hands.'
I never tire of remembering that day.
When, for a while, at least, the tables were turned.
It's a wonderful thing.
And after you've tasted it once, nothing else will do.
So, to conclude on how growing up in a dynasty of dysfunction
has shaped the next Dracula generation?
Ingrid Dracula has developed a strong streak of resentment
and ruthlessness, which has made her a force to be reckoned with.
Vladimir Dracula, possessor of the most awesome powers,
but reticent to use them for evil's sake,
as each days passes he eclipses his father a little more.
Meanwhile, the Count himself is a formidable but fading force.
Like a cornered beast, he's unpredictable, dangerous
and often deranged.
A threat to enemies and family and drooling drudges alike.
Master, a letter from your brother.
Ah, well, here's hoping it's useful advice.
Otherwise I'll be looking for the nearest, hideous drooling drudge
to take out my annoyance on.
I won't do the accent. Ahem.
Yo, big bro.
Sorry to hear about your issues with young Vladimir.
My advice is threefold. One, plenty of tough love.
Two, make him take lots of cold showers.
Three, if all else fails, a straightjacket can work wonders.
Follow these simple steps and you should be fine.
They certainly did the trick with my Boris.
Well, they did until he proclaimed himself judge, jury and executioner,
slayed the Grand High Vampire,
tried to murder you and ended up as a pile of dust.
But what can I say?
Boys will be boys.
You're not angry, are you?
-Argh! I'll take that as a yes.
Subtitles By Red Bee Media Ltd