Chapter Text
Dracula was on edge.
He paced the floor of the abandoned hospital, while frequently trying not to check the time on the large grandfather clock. It had been over 2 hours and he still wasn’t back yet.
He shouldn’t have let him go, he shouldn’t have let him out of his sight. It was too soon after ‘The Incident’ he thought, he still should have kept him chained to his throne but he was hungry. He was always hungry.
Dracula growled in frustration, transformed into a bat and flew up to one of the higher floors of the hospital through the hole in the ceiling and continued to pace.
‘The Incident’ as Dracula thought of it,had concluded somewhat recently. His servant had thought it was a wise idea to meet with those who would poison Renfield’s mind against him, holdng clandestine meetings in a church. He could imagine what lies Renfield had spread.
“Master is mean and unfair, and I am as sweet and innocent as the day is long. Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, that’s how pure and wonderful I am. Help me get away from that dastardly rogue.”
In this scenario Dracula imagined Renfield clutching a string of pearls to further demonstrate how shocked he was and was speaking with a higher pitch voice in that way men did when trying to badly imitate women. Never mind the fact that Renfield had never worn jewelry, as far as he could recall.
As he fantasized about his familiar in this unflattering way it did make him feel slightly better, it made him feel superior to think of Renfield so weak.
After he found out about his servant’s stupid ideas of ‘happiness’ he nipped that behaviour in the bud and immediately slaughtered the little church group, though Renfield was adamant that they weren’t a church group, and dragged his errant familiar back to the lair where he attempted to beat the disobedience out of him. However, his overzealousness killed the man, a few times.
The wanton act of violence had caused him to work up an appetite, thankfully the little worm that had led a group of armed assailants to his lair was still there cowering in a corner. The tattooed man, Teddy, Eddy or something like that, watched in revulsion as Dracula dealt with Renfield’s disloyalty which had ended with his servant being eviscerated. When Teddy saw the vampire stalk towards him, he turned to run, but he found out like all others, you can’t outrun a god.
For all the man’s claims that he came from an organization that was all about ‘evil’, his blood was surprisingly sweet. It was the kind of sweetness that only came from those who didn’t have blood on their hands, those who had never taken a life. He drank deep and long until Lobo stopped struggling and went limp. If it weren’t for the fact that he still had a familiar to punish he would have collapsed sated onto his throne and napped the rest of the night, if only.
With a renewed spring in his step he cut his hand and used his blood to revive Renfield, only to throw him into the long narrow crate that had been used to transport Dracula’s coffin on their last transatlantic ocean voyage.
Oh how Renfield begged and sobbed.
Each time Dracula would allow Renfield out to relieve himself, and consume enough water and food to stave off death, he would renew his begging.
“I’m sorry I had forsaken you Master, my life for you Master, please don’t punish me more Master, please don’t put me back in the box Master.”
Dracula would hear none of it, and kept him there for two weeks before he let him out for good, the boy had come out meek as a lamb, just how he liked him.
Two weeks after the isolation he sent Renfield to his apartment to collect any important belongings and then charged him with burning the apartment to the ground, to reduce it to ash.
That was 2 hours ago, and he still wasn’t back yet.
As he continued his pacing he noticed a small bundle of pages sticking out of an end table. He pulled the sheets that were curling due to dampness and age and read over the contents.
How to Train your Puppy with Positive Reinforcement.
The pages appeared to have been printed from the internet. He skimmed through them, mainly to focus on something other than Renfield’s tardiness.
‘Positive reinforcement while training your pet allows for clear communication of intent and rewards good behaviour.
Using punishments like yelling or hitting your pet can lead to confusion because the punishment isn’t clear for them.’
Dracula snorted, a good firm hand had always worked on all of his servants in the past.
‘For example, if your pet makes a mess on the carpet and you rub their nose in it, your pet is less likely to understand not to potty in the house and more likely to take away the message that it isn’t safe to potty around you. This can explain why your pet has accidents while you are away but never around you.
However, if instead you reward your pet with praise and treats when they perform behaviours you approve of, they are more likely to repeat those behaviours.’
Dracula continued to skim the article as it talked about how training with punishment created fearful and aggressive pets whereas positive reinforcement led to strong bonds between pets and their owners.
He considered the reading, he had used punishments to train familiars for centuries. Renfield was certainly fearful, and as much as he loved how powerful he felt when Renfield cowered before him, it also limited his innovation and quick thinking when he was always fearful of repercussions.
Perhaps a new method was warranted.
“Master?” Renfield called out timidly.
Dracula transformed into a cloud of bats and dove down to the main level of the lair and quickly transformed back into a ‘man’. This startled Renfield who started to curl in on himself and cower.
“I’m sorry I’m so late.”
The article said to ignore behaviour you don’t like, and praise the good behaviour.
“Did you burn the apartment?”
His eyes were moist and his lip trembled as he nodded his head.
“Good.” He put his hand on Renfield’s shoulder and gave it a firm, but not painful, squeeze. “Good boy.”
Dracula then opened a desk drawer and pulled out a chocolate that Dracula had confiscated when he became annoyed with Renfield’s loud chewing.
“I like when you’re obedient.” He handed over the chocolate. Renfield took it, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When nothing bad happened he opened up the treat and popped it into his mouth.
Over the next few weeks Dracula would provide plenty of praise to his familiar. From telling him he did a good job when he finally cleaned up the bodies that had been stacking up. To guiding Renfield to lay in his lap so he could pet his hair after he provided Dracula with a particularly good victim to eat.
Renfield appeared to be much happier, which surprisingly made Dracula happier as he spent less time disciplining his servant.
“Good night Renfield, once you’re done sweeping, head to bed.”
“Of course Master.” He helped Dracula step into his coffin and lay down.
“That’s a good boy.” Dracula praised, and Renfield’s face turned a little pink and he gave a shy smile. When the Master was settled Renfield closed the lid.
He picked up the broom and noticed the curling papers sticking out of Dracula’s side table. He picked them up and tried to curl them the opposite way to get them to lay flat. He smiled as he read the title on the page.
Renfield had hidden a dozen copies of these pages all over the lair and it had still taken Dracula a week to find them.
Who ever said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?