Marku Dobos

Marku Dobos grew up in the town of Hunedoara. Like any smart, energetic and ambitious boy in Romania, he sought a career in government. He went to college, joined the Communist Party and denounced a few people to the secret police. In return, he received a clerk’s position in Bucharest. After three years with no promotions, though, Dobos realized that Bucharest was wrong for him. The city held too many other young men with the same ambitions. Instead, he applied for a position back in Hunedoara. Dobos became a junior assistant to the political officer of one of Hunedoara’s foundries. He earned several promotions over the next decade. He used his new privileges to acquire a bit more money than his salary provided, and found himself a bit more popular with the town’s prostitutes. Anastazi Ruthven wanted an agent in the local government — a low-ranking but hard-working official. Dobos suited his needs. One morning, the bureaucrat found a handwritten note slid under his apartment door. The note said he had come to the attention of a powerful man. If he wanted to learn more and receive a chance to advance himself, in two night’s time he must go to a certain old farmhouse at the edge of town… and show no fear. The bureaucrat went to the farmhouse. He stood his ground, while a dog — no, a wolf — trotted up to him. It carried a small cask with a note attached. The note said, “Drink, and in my service you will know power beyond imagination.” Dobos almost fled then, as his grandmother’s tales flitted through his mind. Then he reminded himself that a dutiful Communist did not believe in the Devil or other such fairy-tales. Dobos did believe in power, though. He forced himself to drink the cold blood within the cask. As soon as he stopped gagging, he felt strong, energized, powerful. He bowed deeply to the wolf and promised to serve it or its master well. The prostitutes of Hunedoara fared well that night as Dobos celebrated his new position. He didn’t know what that position was, but he expected great things. CHAPTER THREE: MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES 89 Dobos enjoyed his next 10 years. Bats and owls brought him messages and carried his replies to his unseen, unnamed master. Later they arranged to use walkie-talkies and Dobos heard a voice, but still never heard a name. Once a month Dobos walked into the woods to meet a wolf, a bear or some other beast and receive another cask of blood to drink. His master asked for little besides information and the occasional purchase — a shortwave radio, a fine Swiss camera (with night-vision attachments), a pistol and the like. Dobos became an important man in Hunedoara and known to higher officials. If anyone wondered at his superiors’ tendency toward illness or sudden urges to retire, they said nothing. As Dobos rose in rank, he found it easier to detour government funds to the bank accounts he set up for his master and himself. The end of Communism did not mean the end of Dobos’ career — but a few years later, his nameless master told him to quit his job. He had more important work. Dobos loyally obeyed his new commands. He traveled through Europe and America, looking for the undead. Only then did he learn that he was called a “ghoul,” though he had already suspected that he served a vampire. Dobos enjoys his life. He loves his master, even though he has never seen his face or learned his name. He understands that no one can force him to tell what he does not know. His work gives him pride. He does not know why it matters so much, but his master would not set him to any unimportant task. He sees more of the world than he ever dreamed. Other countries are strange and wonderful, though the prostitutes are comfortingly the same everywhere. Every month, however, his heart lifts as he returns to Hunedoara and his next communion with his unknown god.