Free Dracula Lives by Robert Ryan

designing a home that blurs the line between movies and real life.”
    Markov gave him the now-familiar stare. “In my case there isn’t one. My horror film is the record of the horror of my life. They are one and the same.”

CHAPTER 8
    Johnny sat at the control panel in the steward’s quarters, watching them on one of two dozen large monitors that gave views of every part of the castle and grounds. Markov and Quinn had stopped by the Grim Reaper to discuss something. Alongside the bank of monitors was an array of controls for everything from panning or tilting a particular camera to starting the coffee in the kitchen. Johnny pushed a button.
    A tiny camera embedded in one of the eye sockets of the Grim Reaper took a picture that would enable it to instantly recognize the new soul that had come into their realm.
    Markov led them into his laboratory. After he closed the door, Johnny pushed another button.
    The scythe made a vicious whoosh as it rent the air.
    Practice.

CHAPTER 9
    Markov unlocked the door and pressed a button on the inside wall. Fluorescent light bathed a vast studio. The windowless square, filled with modern audiovisual equipment, was a jarring contrast to the gloomy Gothic design of the rest of the castle. Walls and floor were carpeted, no doubt to improve the acoustics. The wall to the left was mostly shelving. Quinn glimpsed cans of film and blank recording media.
    Markov led him past a huge instrument panel on the wall to the right, filled with monitors, gauges, and dials.
    He gestured at the panel without stopping. “Master control for all the various systems of the estate.”
    A plush leather swivel chair on casters for tending to the impressive array made Quinn think of Captain Kirk in Star Trek .
    Labels under each monitor told which part of the castle or grounds it showed. Two in all capital letters under much larger monitors caught Quinn’s eye: LAGOON and GARDEN. Unlike the other monitors, these were turned off, their screens black.
    After the instrument panel came a door. On the way here they’d passed Johnny’s quarters. The two spaces must be adjoining. Markov seemed to like keeping his steward nearby.
    A few steps past the door, they stopped at a bank of half a dozen computers, their widescreen monitors resting on a shelf built into the wall. To the left of the computers, a 35-millimeter projector faced a five-foot screen. Everything was immaculate and precisely arranged. This was the workspace of a perfectionist.
    “My remastering/editing console,” Markov said.
    Quinn made a polite nod. His attention kept being drawn to the lurid horror movie posters arrayed on the carpeted wall behind the console: Horror of Dracula, The Mummy’s Ghost, House of Horrors, Creature from the Black Lagoon, Man-Made Monster, The Monster Maker.
    “My wall of inspiration,” Markov said. “Come. Let me show you how the 21st-century version of the mad movie scientist creates his monsters.”
    He led them to an area that looked like the place where a kid who loved monster movies kept his toys. There were reproduced miniatures of King Kong, Dracula, the Wolf Man, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, Robby the Robot, and several others.
    “For whatever reason,” Markov began, “people are given certain abilities. I have already mentioned my genius for technology. From my first day at Universal, I understood the importance of technology to filmmaking, so I made it my business to learn each new innovation. In particular I wanted to learn how to make the most realistic movie monsters the world had ever seen. In the ’60s, I taught myself robotic animation and started with Robby. I was able to move my creations around, and they were very good, but never quite realistic enough to suit me. Then the digital revolution begat computer animation, and …” he gestured at the array of miniatures “… these creatures became extinct.”
    “Are they still functional?”
    “Oh yes. As are some other robotic things