Resurrection

Martha's loss was hard on everyone.

Wayne missed the way she would help Wanda come up with creative ways to keep their children entertained.

Frank missed the way she would cook the best meals whenever he and Eunice visited, making you feel as though you were right at home.

Griffin missed the way her laugh would instantly brighten everyone's moods, no matter how sour one could be.

Murray missed her gentle attitude and kind nature.

But out of everyone, of course, the one who took it the hardest was Dracula himself.

Her husband, Dracula was unfairly left a widow. He had never quite been the same since that night the mob came and attacked their home - Castle Lubov - and staked her right in front of their daughter. Despite the successful relocation to his old castle in the heart of Transylvania, he hadn't recovered to a functional capacity just yet. It was almost like someone had taken a stake and struck him directly in his chest, leaving a scar that wouldn't ever heal, or killing a part of him entirely.

His friends tried their best to keep him company and offer any kind of comfort that could possibly cheer him up, but it was no use. It was clear the man wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, fathoming all the different ways he could have stopped it from happening so that he could still have a wife and mother to Mavis. If anything, the little baby was his sole comfort. Her wordless presence seemed to soothe Dracula more than anyone else. But it also brought a pang of guilt and sadness along with it. It was his fault she would have no mother, his fault that their security had been breached.

But Drac's friends knew this wasn't quite so. Humans were capable of being cruel, cruel creatures - more of monsters than actual monsters were at times. And it crushed the guys whenever Drac would pass up any of their consolement and instead sulk back up to his room, shut the door with a slight bang, and then promptly begin to sob in a heart-wrenching agony. It had to be torture for him. But the torture had to stop. And Murray claimed to have found a way, or in his words "the perfect solution."

***

The moonlight shone bright in the sky.

Determinedly, Dracula's four friends made their way through the dark forest and toward the Castle Lubov.

"I don't know, Murray," Frank said. "Didn't this not work the last time you did it? You know, when you tried it on your Egyptian princess?"

"Hey!" the mummy interjected, "There were a lot of factors at play before. For one, there won't be any humans interrupting - "

"How do you know?" Wayne cut in skeptically. "They're always ruining everything."

Griffin's glasses nodded up and down, and he addressed Murray. "Wayne does have a point," he said. "But on the other hand, the humans have been avoiding that place like the plague. I don't think they'd be very comfortable wanting to go anywhere near a place where vampires used to live."

Murray grimaced, but nodded in agreement. It was true. They were under the impression that vampires were horrifically dangerous, but he and his friends knew just how docile the creatures actually were. If only they could have seen the way that Dracula played with Mavis in her cradle, or how he and Martha had tucked their baby in and sang her little songs, some actual lullabies (albeit with a monster twist), and some just little made-up tunes. Murray shook the thoughts away, however, when the castle Lubov came into view.

It loomed ahead - or rather, what was left of it loomed ahead - its silhouette dark and foreboding against the night sky. The other friends silenced their small talk as they too caught sight of it. The group approached it, gazing upon the once mighty castle in awe. All that remained was crumbling walls, broken windows, and twisted wooden beams hanging from the ceiling, charred. The stone roof had caved in completely, and what remained of the structure was jutting out at an awkward angle from the ground. A few of the bricks still lay nearby, and Frank approached one, picking it up from the ground to inspect it. He shuddered.