Slowly he glided up the steps of the old church. He paused to savour those words. Church! How did this happen? Could he bear it? Oh, yes! He had waited too long to thwart him – too long for vengeance.                                                                    

“Vengeance is Mine,” saith The Lord.

“Not this time Matey,” the stranger cried, ” now your home is mine!”

The ancient building beckoned, the oak door creaked open, scents of candle wax, incense and mustiness spewed forth. But it was not consecrated. They had forgotten to perform that little ceremony. He would be safe here. Safe in his box in front of the altar.

No one could touch him.

Dracul floated up the aisle in all his glory , snubbing his nose at the staring statues.