Zacharias closed his eyes. It was the only way he could hold onto his sanity, by thinking of the others not as humans, but as test subjects. Only when it came to his sister, when he saw her in her cell when passing on his way back to his, or when he heard her cry and whimper, did he remember that they were all human. During those moments, he wished for a way to end his life. But there was none.

“I will kill you all!” the vampire snarled in Czech, his voice hoarse and weak.

Zacharias had picked up a few Czech words from fellow prisoners, enough to understand what the vampire was saying.

“It speaks!” Müller marveled, then looked at the guards. “Do we have anybody who speaks Czech?”

Both of them shook their heads.

“Quickly,” Müller instructed curtly, “find somebody and get him here.”

When the captured vampire clawed at the guards and snapped his teeth in a futile attempt to attack them, Zacharias gazed at the poor creature. His heart filled with pity. Maybe he was an animal, a dangerous demon, but subdued by the vicious Nazi guards, the vampire would become just as much a test subject as the others in their midst. A quiet sob escaped him. None of the guards seemed to hear it. Yet, the vampire’s gaze clashed with his. For a moment, he only saw the man inside the creature.

Zacharias mouthed one of the few words he knew in Czech. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know it then, but that brief connection from one soul to another was what would eventually save his life.

Müller rubbed his hands. “Chain him to the gurney. Wake Brandt and Arenberg, and get them in here now. We have work to do.”

By the time the two subordinates arrived a few minutes later, nobody seemed to remember that Zacharias was still chained to a treatment chair in the other corner of the room. Everybody’s eyes were on the vampire.

Müller’s instructions were simple. “I want to analyze his blood.”

Brandt proceeded to draw blood from the chained vampire, while Arenberg assisted. Müller watched from a safe distance.

Coward, Zacharias thought. With the weak human inmates, Müller had no problem doling out injuries and pain himself, but with a vampire who was stronger and who had already killed several guards during his capture, the doctor wanted to play it safe.

Nobody knew how strong the vampire was, and whether the chains would hold. Already now, as Zacharias watched in fascination, allowing his eyes to examine the strange man, it appeared as if the chains were stretching, the iron groaning, as the vampire’s body fought against the restraints.

Without eye contact to the vampire who now lay face up on a gurney, Zacharias wasn’t able to communicate with him without giving away that he understood some Czech. His instinct told him that it was a secret he needed to keep.

When the sound of snapping metal suddenly filled the room, and one of the vampire’s hands broke free from its restraints, Müller’s colleagues started screaming.

“He’s breaking the chains!”

Instead of helping his colleagues, Müller retreated to safety, his eyes wide with fascination. “So strong,” he whispered to himself.

Right then, Zacharias could fairly read Müller’s thoughts. He would try anything to tap into the vampire’s strength, harness it, and use it for himself.

“Scheiße!” Brandt screamed before the vampire’s hand wrapped around his neck.

As they struggled and Arenberg tried to subdue the vampire by plunging a syringe with unknown contents into his neck, the silver chains Arenberg liked to wear around his neck, made contact with the vampire’s exposed skin.

A sizzling sound was followed by the stench of burnt hair and skin, and mingled with the vampire’s scream, at the same time as he released Brandt’s neck. Brandt coughed and jumped back.

“The silver!” Müller yelled. “It burns him.”

He rushed toward Arenberg and ripped the two chains off his neck, then quickly wrapped them around the vampire’s.

The prisoner howled in pain, his skin burning as if they’d poured acid over him. His movements weakened.

“Get me more silver!” Müller ordered.

From that night on, they chained the vampire with silver. It weakened him, making it impossible to escape. The next weeks were agony, not only for the vampire, but also for the other prisoners. It took many botched attempts before Müller and his colleagues figured out how they could turn other prisoners into vampires. Simply injecting them the blood of the captured vampire wasn’t enough. While it healed the prisoners’ injuries, it didn’t in turn make them stronger or turn them into vampires.