Skipping A Beat

He lay coughing in bed. Suddenly realizing that the Count had summoned him, Bromley, the sweeper, got up. He was feeling quite uneasy. Something on his chest,... Oh! It felt horrible. None the less, a stout man, Bromley went to serve his summons to the Count.

He walked down the corridor of the palace. “Oh!”, he sighed, “How old I am growing by the day! Even the simple task of walking is now tough for me!” He felt dizzy, his feet were shaking. He grabbed the railing and went down the dungeons, where the Count dwelled. Count Sador was the most bizarre of persons. He had the entire Sador Manor to himself, yet he lived in a dungeon. He was a middle-aged man, still unmarried.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone. The count was absorbed in the dark arts and black magic. It was now an open secret that he murdered his first wife and threw his only daughter in the well as a tribute to Apollyon. Even the court tried him for witchcraft but he was saved by his immense wealth. Since the last few years, the Count and Bromley were the only ones occupying the Sador Manor.

Bromley, deeply exhausted, finally reached the bottom of the staircase, where he saw the Count leaning over a cauldron, blood splattered on the floor. Bromley felt a chill run down his spine. He asked, almost collapsing, “You called me Monsieur? May I be of any assistance?”

The Count looked at him, with his sinister black eyes. He curtly said, in a sharp French accent, “Ah! Sweeper! No, you may go back.” He took out a blood-splattered blade, “I already got what I wanted from you!! Maintenant tu ne m'es d'aucune utilité. You are of no use to me now!” The Count stared at Bromley’s chest, a wildfire running in his eyes!

The last thing that Bromley did was to touch his chest. He was shocked! He

looked down to make sure he wasn’t imagining, but he wasn’t.

His heart wasn’t there.........