He means to destroy the Harkers, I know that. They have been kind to me; I am fond of them in turn. I wish them no harm, I have no grudge against them as he has. Why then do I wish to aid him in their downfall?
Because they harmed him. Because he freed me from the shackles of my father, of marriage and society; I am now instead to him mother and daughter, wife and lover. Ours is the free exchange of true friends; I give him my aid, and he in time will give me the freedom that is everlasting life.
* * *
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
8 November
Life has been quiet, nothing more has happened. Indeed we have all sensed a relaxing of the atmosphere. Perhaps the haunting was only an abberration, perhaps it was dismissed by the power of our prayers – I know not. I wish only to forget it!
I must employ a nurse for Quincey. I think I have expected too much of Elena. She is meant to be our guest, after all. She has willingly taken constant and excellent care of the boy, but I fear it has overtired her, especially the worry of his illness. She seems very tired these past few days. I have told her to sleep in, if she feels the need.
Jonathan’s arm is slow to heal. Dr Seward is very concerned. Poor Van Helsing is mortified by the injury, blaming himself, although we all know it was not his fault. Again I have asked Jonathan to move back to our room: again he has refused.
Later, night
I have had the most disturbing dream.
I dreamed that I woke in the night to find the room full of a thin, glowing white mist. A dark figure in silhouette leaned over me, with two livid red sparks for eyes.
Count Dracula.
I would have screamed in terror, had my throat not been paralysed. He did not touch me, however. He spoke, his accursed voice clear and lifelike, and exactly as I remember it.
“You know what I must have of you,” he said. “I must have your life-blood. But this time you will give it of your own free will.”
“Why?” I said, the only word I could force out.
“God gave you a choice between good and evil. No act is evil unless it is undertaken by choice. Is it not so?”
“Some blame attached itself to me when you drank my blood and made me drink yours,” I cried, “even though I did not collude. The stain did not leave me until you died!”
“Did you not collude? In your heart, at least?”
With that the dreadful figure vanished. I awoke properly then, thinking I saw a white mist vanishing through the cracks of the window. I supposed it to be a continuation of the dream, but I recall the sight vividly even now.
I sat up, cold and upset. How I wished Jonathan were beside me! To my surprise – and relief, I confess – at that moment there was a soft knock at my door, and Elena came in with a candle, all in white, her lovely hair loose on her shoulders.
“Mina, I cannot sleep. Please may I lie in your bed for a little while?”
“Oh, please do, dear,” I said, flinging the cover back for her to climb in. “I couldn’t sleep either. Have you had bad dreams?”
“Not bad,” she said as she snuggled beside me, “but strange.”
“So have I. Let us comfort each other.”
It was a relief to have her there with me, such a gentle, comforting presence! She put her arms round my neck and hugged me so close that the satiny skeins of her hair covered my face, and almost deprived me of air. There seemed a strange smell in her hair; earthy, very nearly unpleasant yet evocative of something I cannot call to mind.
“Mina, I feel so close to you,” she whispered. “You have been such a friend to me, such a wonderful and loving friend!” And she planted kisses on my face and lips, becoming more fervent until I, alarmed, tried gently to push her away. For a few moments she resisted me, and I hardly knew what to do, for I did not want to be rough with her. Then, to my relief, she gave an exhausted sigh and fell asleep – wound so tightly around me that I could not move for fear of disturbing her. So I barely slept and met the morning tired and listless. Never mind.
What a strange girl she is. But I am glad that she has found such happiness with us, and trusts me enough to find comfort in me.
10 November
All our happiness undone. All is recorded in Jonathan’s journal. I can add no more.
* * *
JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL
(Dictated by him and entered by Abraham Van Helsing)
10 November, evening
I have not written in my journal for some days. My right hand is nearly useless so Van Helsing is writing at my dictation. Curse the fiend that inflicted all this upon us!
We must record all that is happening, unbelievable and horrific as it is. Mina sits with us as we work, for I cannot bear to be alone. None of us can. God keep and protect us!
We had a few days of peace – a lull in the storm, as we now know. Tonight after dinner, Van Helsing, Seward, Godalming and I joined Elena and Mina for a pleasant game of cards. At about ten Elena excused herself, saying that she had a headache and would go to bed. Thank goodness she left us when she did!
The five of us sat talking pleasantly of happy times. At first all was well, but slowly we began to notice a change in the atmosphere, so imperceptible at first I could only put it down to my overwrought imagination. There was a chill in the air, a sighing sound as of a gale blowing hard in the distance. We all became tense, starting at the slightest sound. A door banged upstairs. The fire flared, sending out a whirl of sparks, and at that the cat appeared from nowhere, raced across the room and stood against the flames, hissing, her back arched and her tail fluffed out.
This alarmed me most of all, for I had not realized Puss was in the room; I am nervous of her still, so Mina always shuts her out. I leapt up to open the door, meaning to shoo her away. But as I looked into the hall, the house felt wrong – as if all the windows and doors were gaping open to the night, which came flowing cold and black into our home. This was an illusion, for I could see that all was closed and secure – yet the impression was so strong that I was for a few moments almost witless with terror. I saw my study door standing ajar. Something compelled me to go to the room, to reassure myself that all was well and to close the door.
As I walked along the hall, I saw a dim light burning within the study. A sense of dread overwhelmed me; I caught a vile odour of earth mingled with blood, and this woke such terrible memories that my head reeled. My left hand trembled as I pushed open the door.
Sitting in my chair, at my desk, was a figure I dreaded to see – had thought I would never set eyes on again! I knew him instantly. I would know that accursed face anywhere, the aquiline nose and cold arrogance of the expression. Dracula.
If I had discovered the very Devil himself there I could not have been so utterly unmanned by horror. My knees buckled; I must have shouted, for Mina and the others came running; but those few seconds are blurred.
But to tell, objectively, what I saw: the man in my place was all in black, in an old-fashioned black coat buttoned to the throat. He was not quite as I remembered from the first time I met him at the castle; the thick white hair, brushed back from his high temples, was now streaked with black. His brows were dark, though as heavy as before, almost beast-like in their profusion; his eyes dark, also, with no gleam of redness visible. He was clean shaven. There was no moustache to obscure the voluptuous cruelty of his red mouth, or the long sharp teeth that rested on the lower lip. He was – as we had seen him once before – an old man turning younger.
The desk drawers and the safe were open, papers lying about on the floor, as if he had ransacked the place. He had before him on the desk a thick typescript that I had caught him in the act of reading. I realized that it was our precious collection of documents relating our encounter with him.
He looked up slowly and calmly after I cried out. By then, the others were coming into the doorway behind me. I tried to push Mina back. I heard Seward curse, Godalming give a gasp of despair. The Count rose to his feet. There was no violenc
e in his demeanour, only the old-world courtesy that I remember from our first meetings, when I was still innocent of his nature!
After our initial outbursts, we were dumbstruck. Van Helsing crossed himself; at this the Count smiled, a smile that only the Devil could produce. He lifted his hands, palms turned outwards as if in a gesture of mollification or greeting. I saw the pale hairs on the palms, the sharp nails. A weight of ghastly memories fell on me and I would have collapsed, had Mina not held me up.
“Mrs Harker, bring your husband to a chair,” said the Count, coming from behind the desk. He held one hand towards us, the other towards the leather armchair by the fireplace, as if to guide us there. This seemed the most extraordinary parody of concern! “He is unwell. I see from this that you remember me.”
I sank heavily into the chair, Mina sitting on the chair-arm beside me, the others standing erect as if to shield us. The Count stood no more than six feet from us, his face horribly pale against the midnight black of his clothes. Strange to say, in the midst of my shock, it was a relief to see him in the flesh; to know that our strange dreams and imaginings of late have had a concrete origin. That I am not mad, after all!
Dracula spoke mockingly. “Why do you look upon me with such horror? You destroyed me, did you not? You have all the remedies against my kind at your disposal, Dr Van Helsing. Surely, then, you have no reason to fear me?”
“We destroyed you,” Van Helsing said gruffly, “and we do not fear you.”
“I should imagine not, since you are four against one.”
“Five,” said Mina.
Dracula looked at her. I could have slain him for that look! “Five. Sit down, then. Let us all sit down.”
“We prefer to stand,” said Godalming.
“As befits a hero,” said the Count. “As you wish. You are good hosts and I have not forgotten how to be a gracious guest. Although I have had little practice of late, my memory is long.” Then he inclined his head to each of us in turn in a courteous greeting – or the mockery of one. “Doctor Van Helsing... Mr and Mrs Harker... Dr Seward... Lord Godalming.”
The Count’s gaze met Mina’s again; she stared back at him in such wide-eyed horror that my heart broke to see it. Fearing he was exerting some vile influence on her, I drew her head down onto my shoulder. The Count gave a soft laugh at this, as if my gesture was expected, but futile. I raged silently at him. I wondered if the poker might make a weapon with which to strike him through the heart, but I was powerless – whether through his influence or my own weakness, I couldn’t say.
We were all paralysed, bound in our impotent circle by the chill blackness of his will. Mina, despite her terror, was composed; her spirit seems unbreakable. Van Helsing had a forceful but controlled passion about him. The Count, however, was in full command of the situation. “I have not come to harm you – although I have every cause to desire vengeance.”
“Then why – what do you want of us?” Van Helsing said gruffly.
“I simply wish you to know that you have not destroyed me. That you cannot. My lust for life is greater than ever your desire to extinguish it could be.”
“No,” I answered, unable to contain my rage. “It is more likely that you are so evil, even Hell itself rejected you!”
The Count laughed to himself, as if at some private joke. His mirth aroused my hopeless anger all the more.
Van Helsing asked, “How did you cheat death? What did we do wrong?”
Another laugh. “That is a puzzle to exercise your great mind, is it not?” The Count turned back to the desk and picked up the bundle of papers, brandishing it contemptuously. “Is the answer in here, in this collection of rambling nonsense?”
“Put that down!” Mina cried. “It is not for your eyes!”
Dracula appeared to mock her courage; he could never appreciate the value of such qualities in anyone. “There is nothing,” he said, addressing her in a low, ambiguous tone that repelled me, “that is not for my eyes.” Mina looked away from him, blushing. How violently I hated him! I stirred, but felt Van Helsing’s hand on my shoulder.
The Count went on, “You have seen that I can enter your minds – yours, Mr Harker, even yours, Professor, though you fought me manfully. Even the brain of your little cat. Who then is safe from me? Your son?”
Mina went white. She leapt up, but Seward held her back.
“You have no defence against me,” said Dracula, “for you do not know when or how I may next strike. You cannot escape my revenge. All your lives, I will be there.”
Van Helsing broke in, “Have we not suffered enough at your hands? We did nothing but good to you! We tried to bring peace to your restless soul, an end to your accursed existence. Surely you cannot wish such to continue? Even the Devil, they say, will repent and be redeemed at the end of time!”
“You term it ‘good’ that you destroyed those I love?” The Count’s voice sharp tone deepened my fear.
“The three hateful fiends in the castle?”
“Hateful to you,” Dracula said softly, a baleful gleam in his eyes, “but not to me. Who are you to judge what is hateful? You know nothing of love.”
“That is not so. You are the one who put aside love, put aside all the grace of heaven, the day you chose to become Undead.”
The Count’s expression became fierce; his red lips lifted over the dreadful teeth, his nostrils flared. “Do you love life, Van Helsing?”
“Of course. It is God’s creation.”
“You grow old, Professor. You grow weary of life and wish fondly for death. You will never know what it is to love life as I do – to love it so passionately that you are prepared even to cheat death. To love it so deeply, indeed, that you cannot die – or cannot remain dead! What can you know of such passion? How then dare you judge me? Those three were not fiends to me. They cannot come back as I have. In my destruction you broke your own rules. Meditate upon your mistakes; you have time. Months, or weeks, or a lifetime of looking over your shoulder, watching and waiting for me to come again.” He shook the sheaf of papers. “And I shall find much amusement in discovering what it is that you think you know of me.”
At that – taking us all by surprise – Godalming seized the poker on which I had cast my own eye, and lunged at Dracula. The Count seized the shaft before it came within a foot of his body. Godalming cried out and released the handle; the poker fell, and singed the carpet, although it had been in its stand and not in the fire. At the same instant, Dracula threw our typescript into the air, and vanished. The pages scattered in a snowstorm. As they settled, we saw a layer of mist flowing out between the window and its frame.
Godalming was cradling the hand in which he had wielded the poker. Mina and I went to him; the moment Dracula disappeared, the nightmarish chill left the air and we could move freely again. “Foolish, foolish,” Van Helsing murmured. “You should not have let your passions get the better of you.”
“D’you think I don’t know it?” Godalming grated.
“Were you burned?” Mina asked anxiously.
“The poker was cold when I seized it. But as he touched it, the handle turned red-hot! It is nothing, a slight burn.”
“I can’t believe this is happening!” Mina exclaimed. “Hurry, I must see that Quincey is unharmed. If ever Dracula harms him–”
We rushed into the hall and up the stairs. “At least the enemy has shown himself,” I said as we went. “Now we have a solid enemy to fight, instead of phantasms. It proves we are not mad!”
“But how did he get in?” said Van Helsing, hoarse and agitated.
“What?” I said. “I don’t know.”
“For he cannot enter a dwelling unless he is invited in by one of the inhabitants! So who? Who invited him to enter?”
Chapter Ten
JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL (Continued)
Mina was now so pale I feared for her, but she hushed us as we entered Quincey’s room. We found the boy sleeping peacefully; nothing had been disturbed, the wind
ows were firmly shut and there was no sign of any injury upon him. He barely stirred as we examined him, keeping our voices low. He looked so innocent, with his fair hair dishevelled on the pillow, his round angelic face abandoned to sleep. The thought of any harm coming to him causes us all unspeakable anguish!
As we left, Elena came out of her room, which is next to Quincey’s. She was yawning, her hair loose, her face pale but for a rosy flush in her cheeks. “What is wrong?” she asked.
What could we tell her? Nothing!
Mina guided her back to her room, saying, “We thought we heard Quincey crying. It must have been the wind. The weather is so wild tonight, I was worried it might have disturbed him.”
The other men and I returned to the parlour. Van Helsing sat down and closed his eyes; I have never seen him so weary. Soon Mina returned and said she had given Elena a gold cross on a chain and asked her to wear it at all times. “She was puzzled and a little frightened. I told her I would explain, soon enough,” Mina sighed. “We must tell her something!”
Van Helsing opened his eyes. I thought he had been resting – but of course, his mind was at work. “We must tell her the truth,” he said.
“I dreamed of the Count last night,” said Mina. “He appeared in my room and told me that I must give him my blood of my own free will! Oh God, now I fear it was not a dream!”
Van Helsing was by her side in a moment, looking carefully at her throat. “There are no marks upon you. You have no memory of him attacking you? No weakness?”
“None,” said Mina. “I am sure he did not touch me.” Then she lowered her head, pressing her fingers to her forehead in anguish. I went to support her.
Van Helsing exclaimed, “Ah, but now we have the advantage!”
“How so?” Mina asked.
“Our enemy is physical – therefore we can use physical means to keep him out! But of course we must explain to Elena the reason for this, and tell the boy some tale to lull his curiosity. Tomorrow we will set to work.”
I said with fervour, “I wish Elena and Quincey were away from here. And Mina!”
Dracula the Undead: A Chilling Sequel to Dracula Page 14
