Nancy adjusted the mask that hid the upper half of her face and looked around to see if she recognized any of the other masqueraders. When Spiderman approached and asked her to dance, her friends, the Wicked Witch and Betty Boop, wished her luck and disappeared into the crowd.
As the hours passed Nancy found herself dancing with one superhero after another. Every now and then she caught the eye of one of her friends and they laughed at how comical some of these costumes were. Then something strange happened.
While Nancy stepped away from a conversation with Batman and Green Lantern, who had seemed more interested in chatting with each other than with her, all the party guests seem to move as one choreographed ensemble. Some turned to talk to other partygoers, some moved toward the bar, and some merely meandered mindlessly as they danced. All were separate unconnected movements, yet all led to the same result – a path opened up among the revelers from where Nancy stood clear to the other side of the room. Across the dance floor at the end of the opening stood a tall pale man dressed in black. He stared at Nancy. None of the other guests seemed to pay any attention to him as he proceeded to walk steadily through the parted crowd toward her, his eyes fixed intently on hers the entire time. The merrymakers closed the gap behind him and went about their business after he passed. Nancy stood frozen, mesmerized by the approaching stranger. She hadn't noticed him before.
Where was this good looking guy all evening? She became more aware of his stunning beauty the closer he came. His face was like that of a statue's – thin aquiline nose, high cheekbones, full lips, and strong square jaw. The powdery paleness of his skin appeared even whiter, contrasted against his silky jet black hair, and resembled the luster of cold marble. Great makeup job! Nancy grinned. And costume too! He sported an expensive looking European tuxedo that had a regal flare and a sweeping floor-length black velvet cape with a blood-red silk lining.
"You must be Count Dracula," she said in mock formality. The stranger's eyes widened as if surprised.
"You can address me so, if you wish," he bowed. "And what is your name, my dear?"
"Why, I'm Scarlet," she responded with a Southern drawl and giggled. “Scarlet O’Hara.” Dracula took her hand, bowed, and brought it to his lips.
"I am delighted to meet you, Miss O'Hara," he said.
"Scarlet. Please," she corrected. There was something about this man that intrigued Nancy. She liked the way that he stayed in character, portraying the mysterious vampire from Transylvania and not revealing the real man hidden beneath the costume and makeup. She played along maintaining her own persona – that of the coy well bred Southern belle. Nancy sensed an aura of innate sensuality surrounding the Count and her mind clouded with strange carnal yearnings that made her feel like an animal on the prowl. "I was just about to get another drink. Would you care to join me?" She did not want him to get away.
"I do not drink..." he paused in his reply, "...alcohol."
"Very admirable. You must be driving tonight." When he did not respond she added, "Drinking and driving don't mix.” She laughed uncomfortably when she realized that she had inadvertently dropped her exaggerated Southern accent and before she was able to get back into character, she noticed Betty Boop easing her way through the throng of merrymakers with the Wicked Witch following close behind.
“And speaking of driving," Nancy groaned. "Here comes my designated driver right now." Damn! She knew by the look on Betty’s face that she was ready to call it a night. Why so soon? Why now?
"We'd better be on our way, Nancy,” her friend announced. “It's raining pretty hard out there and it's going to be a nasty drive home," Betty briefly turned her attention to the stranger and commented, "Nice costume, Drac." He responded with a smirk and a silent bow and then did the same to the green-faced witch when she winked at him.
"I'm sorry. But I must go now," Nancy regretted having to part company so suddenly with the handsome man. "It was nice to meet you. Maybe I'll see you again at another party..."
"Yes, my dear Scarlet, I am sure that we will meet again."
* * *
Lightning flashed with brilliant lingering bursts followed by violent explosions of resonating thunderclaps. Torrents of rain pounded the windows while tempest winds rattled the panes and whistled through thin openings between the weather strips.
Nancy tossed and turned listening to the symphony of the storm. It was two hours since the party and still she was feeling the few drinks she had there. To bide her time she fantasized about actually being Scarlet O'Hara and meeting her Rhett Butler at a party in the ballroom on the Tara Plantation.