by Cindy Winget
“You will do no such thing,” said Van Helsing.
“Why ever not?”
“Lucy needs another blood transfusion. I feel certain that her life depends on it. I will watch over Lucy myself and, Jack, you shall give your sweet wife the blood she needs, which will make you too weak to stay up all night.”
Jack nodded his agreement.
As soon as Lucy awoke, Van Helsing told her that she would need to have another blood transfusion. Alarmingly, Lucy seemed incapable of speech, so weak was she. Indeed, she hardly seemed to react to the news at all. As soon as the transfusion was performed, she looked marginally better, the blood returning once more to her lips and cheeks, causing a becoming flush to her chest and arms.
After that, Jack diligently reposed in the overstuffed chair in Lucy’s room each night, allowing both Lucy and Mina some much needed rest. Lucy did increasingly well, becoming vivacious and lively once more; full of the joy and energy that had been the cause for Jack’s affection for her in the first place. Mrs. Westenra was much relieved to see her daughter up and about the house, and was further gratified when Lucy and Mina began to, once again, resume their daily walk to the cemetery.
Jack, on the other hand, was exhausted from his nightly vigil held at his wife’s side. Lucy, upon seeing this, implored him to go back to his own bed for a night of well-deserved rest.
“I cannot leave you in your time of distress.”
“What distress? I am doing much better. I have Mina with me and you will only be in the next room. I shall call out for you if I am in need, I promise!”
Jack reluctantly agreed.
However, this decision proved fatal. The following morning, Lucy appeared worse than ever. Her very gums seemed to have shriveled and shrunken back from her teeth, the same as is seen in some corpses after a long illness. She was cold to the touch so they rubbed brandy onto her gums and lips and placed her into a hot bath drawn by the servants, clothes and all.
Mina quietly informed them that she had awoken several times during the night to find that Lucy had pushed the wreath of garlic away in her sleep and that upon waking in the morning, the silver cross was nowhere to be found.
“Why would Lucy remove them?” lamented Jack.
“I fear that the creature’s influence is beginning to hold sway,” said Van Helsing. “Lucy is subconsciously repelled by these objects because she is starting to become like him.”
Jack stared at him in horror. “Are you certain?”
“So it would seem.”
Jack was too exhausted from staying awake for several nights, so it was left up to Victor this time to give Lucy another blood transfusion.
“You shall sleep in my quarters tonight,” Jack informed Lucy, once she was lucid once more.
“You are still exhausted,” Lucy protested.
“This way, I can still get some sleep, but I will still be in the same room if something happens.”
Upon the look on Mina’s face, Jack made sure to tell her in private later that he didn’t blame her in the least for Lucy’s descent into illness once more.
“But I was in the room with her as well, and I was still helpless to prevent it! What do you imagine that your presence can accomplish that mine could not?” Mina demanded.
“I am not trying to insult you, Mina. You have been a faithful friend to my dear Lucy. I could not say this in the presence of Mrs. Westenra, but the real reason for the move is, I am hoping that when the vampyr enters your room and finds Lucy missing, that it will throw him off his game.”
“I see. I suppose that makes sense,” Mina said.
*****
That night was stifling and Victor couldn’t get comfortable, no matter how many times he rolled over or fluffed his pillow. His window was open, letting in a pleasant breeze, but at the same time, it made him apprehensive. What if Dracula decided to pay him a visit while he slept? What if he were to awaken, like Lucy, and find himself barely able to move, with two livid wounds in his neck? Victor got up and shut the window. He lay back down and resumed his futile attempt to sleep, but with the window shut it was too warm underneath the covers. With a sigh, Victor sat up, placed his slippers upon his bare feet, and pulled on his robe.
He wandered downstairs and was surprised to find Jack standing in the kitchen. “What are you doing up?” he asked the man.
Jack lifted a cup in his right hand. “Just getting a drink of water.”
Victor used the hand-pump to pipe water into his own cup. Several deep gulps of the cold water refreshed him.
“Having a hard time sleeping?” Jack said knowingly.
Victor nodded. “I only wish this nightmare were over. I would that I were here under more pleasant circumstances.”
“Yes, I dare say that I feel quite the same way. I hate to see my poor Lucy suffer so. The circumstances are indeed unfortunate, but there is no way you could have known what would happen after raising that … thing from the dead. In any case, I am still glad to have you here. Your presence is by no means a burden to us.”
Victor doubted this very much. “How is it that you all stand behind me and support me?” he blurted out.
“What do you mean?”
“You should all hate me, and instead I find myself surrounded with friends who do their best to assuage my guilt and grief.”
Jack sighed. “I’ll admit that I was angry with you at first, particularly because your foolish mistake has led to the suffering of the woman I love. We warned you not to dabble in this macabre experiment, and you went and did it anyway. But I meant what I said just now. When I had a chance to really think about your situation, I realized that, reckless as your venture may have been, there truly was no way that you could have foreseen all that has happened since Dracula animated.”
Victor nodded.
“Well, I should return to Lucy’s side,” Jack said. Bidding Victor farewell, he ascended the stairs to his room.
Victor remained standing in the dark kitchen, wondering whether he should return to his own room and try once more to sleep or hunker into a soft chair in the library with a good book and while away the remaining hours until morning.
A sudden shout invaded his thoughts. Victor set down his cup and leaped up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He hurried down the hallway toward Jack’s room; the source of the noise. What new calamity had befallen Lucy?
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” roared a livid Jack to a distraught Ms. Westenra cowering in the doorway. She was dressed only in her dressing gown, her hair in disarray.
“I thought only to relieve my Lucy of the cloying smell of garlic. I was afraid that it was too strong for her sensitive state,” the pitiful woman defended herself.
Victor’s heart sank, knowing what he would find upon entering the room. Van Helsing suddenly appeared, shambling down the hallway as quickly as his elderly knees would allow. “What’s all the fuss about?” he asked.
“Mrs. Westenra has removed all the garlic and opened the window!” growled Jack.
Mrs. Westenra burst into tears, great wracking sobs that rattled in her chest.
Van Helsing gestured to Jack. “Come here, young man. Let’s chat a minute.” They stepped out of Mrs. Westenra’s earshot.
Victor, however, could still hear them, despite their quiet tones.
“You need to calm yourself, Mister Seward.”
“But what she has done! It’s reprehensible!”
“I understand your concern. However, think of poor Mrs. Westenra. She has no notion of the monster that we are trying to save Lucy from and, therefore, has no way of knowing what the consequences are for her actions. What she did was done out of love for her daughter. A mother needs to help and dote on her child. She was only trying to look out for the girl’s best interests. I fear that poor Mrs. Westenra’s heart is frail. Too many shocks to her delicate constitution and her heart may give out completely. This is the very reason I have kept her in the dark about her daughter’s tru
e condition, and I don’t need you yelling at her unnecessarily! Do you understand?”
This was the forceful and commanding professor that Victor remembered from his days at King’s College.
Jack hung his head in shame and nodded. He stepped over to Mrs. Westenra, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Forgive me, mother,” Jack spoke calmly and quietly. Sensing that he was truly contrite, Mrs. Westenra’s sobs quieted and then stopped altogether.
“What is it that I have done that is so terrible? Did I in some way harm Lucy?”
“No, no madam,” Van Helsing was quick to say. “You have done nothing so terrible as to warrant Jack’s reaction. I fear that grief and insomnia are to blame for his outburst. However, I would advise you in the future to keep the wreaths of garlic about her person. I know the smell is quite strong, but its medicinal qualities far outweigh the discomforting odor. Why don’t you go on back to bed. I will have one of the servants bring up some warm milk and honey to help you sleep.”
Mrs. Westenra nodded and left the three men standing there in the hallway, all afraid to enter the room for fear of what they would find.
Please don’t let her be dead, thought Victor.
Jack entered first, Victor and Van Helsing following close behind. The bedroom was dim compared to the hallway, which always had at least one gas lamp glowing to help guests find their way at night. Moonlight filtered in through the open window, the light cotton drapes fluttering in the breeze. Victor was relieved to see that there was no immediate threat. No bat flying about the room or mysterious mist. But upon glancing at Lucy, his demeanor fell. Although Dracula was not here, he had let his presence be known. He had already come and gone, the evidence made manifest upon Lucy’s visage. She was white as a skeleton and just as lifeless. Her black blood-starved gums receded from her pale lips, making her eye teeth appear longer and sharper. Victor noted with horror that she now looked somehow stronger in sleep than she did when she was awake, despite her gaunt paleness. Van Helsing recovered the garlic that had been taken away and once again placed a wreath about her neck. Immediately Lucy shoved it away from herself, though she did not awaken. Her eyes remained shut, her breathing labored.
“Where is the cross?” Victor asked. Upon searching the room, they discovered the talisman upon the ground, the clasp broken as though Lucy had torn it from her neck and thrown it from her person.
Van Helsing broke the silence. “I fear that she is in the last stages of her transformation into a vampyr.”
“No!” Jack stepped up to Lucy and hugged her tightly to himself.
His outburst, coupled with drawing her close, seemed to have jogged Lucy from her slumber. Upon waking she reached up and grabbed a hold of the wreath of garlic that she had previously pushed away in her sleep. Victor saw this as a good sign.
“She will need yet another blood transfusion,” decreed Van Helsing.
Lucy began to weep, just as her mother had before. She turned accusing eyes toward her husband. “You promised to watch over me while I slept! For the first time in ages I felt truly safe!”
Jack hung his head in shame. “I am so sorry. I went downstairs briefly for a drink of water.” It was to his credit that he had not accused Mrs. Westenra of any wrongdoing in Lucy’s presence.
“Are you hungry, my dear?” asked Van Helsing kindly as Lucy’s cries began to lessen.
“No, I am not,” she said.
“You should at least try and eat something. Keep up your strength,” Jack implored. She glared at him and his shoulders slumped in abject misery.
“I truly am sorry,” Jack repeated. “I shall never leave you again.”
“You are quite certain that you wouldn’t like even a cup of tea?” Van Helsing pressed.
“No, thank you. If I feel different in an hour or two, I shall call for my maid.”
Van Helsing nodded. “Good enough, then. Come along, Victor. Let’s leave Lucy to her rest.”
The two men turned and left Lucy’s room.
“Before you go back to your room to find what slumber you can, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you,” said Van Helsing.
Curious, Victor waited.
“When you noticed that the cross was missing, my eyes naturally drifted to Lucy’s throat and I noticed that the wounds are gone. Healed.”
“Why, that’s wonderful!” exclaimed Victor.
Van Helsing shook his head. “No. It isn’t wonderful, my friend. I was quite serious when I said that she is in her final descent toward becoming undead. That is the true reason why I asked her if she was hungry. I have a notion that she will no longer want or need food. Soon all she will thirst for is blood.”
“But Dracula himself has been known to eat food from time from time.”
“Yes, but did it taste good to him? According to the story you have told me and Jack, that was when he was still figuring out what he was. Once he discovered blood, I doubt very much he ever went back to eating regular food. He wouldn’t need to. Blood is all that is needed to prolong his existence.”
“I see. So, what does that mean for Lucy? Is it too late?”
“Regrettably, I doubt we can save her life. Do not tell Jack. He has enough on his shoulders as it is. From here on out, it will matter very much when she dies, whether she be awake or asleep. If she dies while awake, there is still a chance she may remain dead. However, if she dies while asleep, then she will most certainly become a creature like unto Dracula.”
“Is there nothing we can do but wait?”
Van Helsing remained quiet.
Victor took that to mean that there wasn’t. As Victor looked upon his friend and mentor, he began to realize how truly old Van Helsing was becoming. His professor seemed to have aged ten years since last he saw him. His hair was now entirely white and he had more wrinkles about his eyes and mouth. The man looked exhausted.
“I shall gather my instruments for yet another transfusion. We shall hope and pray for the best.”
With that, he stalked off down the hall, leaving Victor alone with his thoughts. As Victor wandered back to his bedchamber, the weight of guilt upon his shoulders became nearly too heavy to be borne. It was bad enough when Victor’s own loved ones were dying because of him, but knowing that a beloved friend’s loved one may pass away because of Victor’s hubris was unbearable. Jack had done nothing wrong. Nothing to deserve losing his young bride and it was Victor’s fault. He had brought nothing but misery upon his friends as repayment for their loyalty and friendship. Shame burned in his chest like hot lead. He had foolishly thought that his contrition could go no deeper. He was wrong.
Chapter Twenty-One
All that day, Lucy seemed happy, content, and relatively strong after having received the blood transfusion, yet they all watched her anxiously as she refused to eat time and time again. Mrs. Westenra was thrilled to see her daughter up and walking about, but she stayed clear of Jack, as though scared to set him off once more. Mina, being the shrewd woman that she was, knew that there was something going on that the men were not telling her.
When evening fell, casting moonlit shadows upon the parlor floor, Jack vehemently swore to Lucy that he would stay awake and vigilant at her side. No amount of thirst was going to tear him away from her presence this night. Lucy shook her head just as vehemently and implored him to get some rest. She knew that the late nights and anxiety had worn him out and she refused to be party to making her husband sick from exhaustion.
“I shall have my mother stay with me. I know it will do her heart good to spend the night with me.”
Before they retired, Van Helsing made sure to gently remind Mrs. Westenra not to remove anything from Lucy’s room unless he gave her permission to do so. The older woman nodded vigorously, her eyes welling with tears at the terrible memory of that morning. “I promise,” she intoned.
“Very well, off to bed then,” Van Helsing said, smiling reassuringly.
As the two ladies climbed the stairs and disappear
ed from sight, Mina turned toward the three men left standing in the room. Her face was beaming and there was a twinkle in her eyes, but underneath the joy, Victor sensed a feeling of anxiety and unease.
“What is it, Mina?” he asked.
Without answering, Mina pulled a folded letter from a pocket concealed in her skirts. “I have received a letter from Jonathan.”
“Are you serious?” gasped Jack. “It’s been many weeks since he has written! I am so relieved to know that he is all right.”
Mina frowned, and her dark brown eyes dropped to look at the floor.
“What is it? What is wrong?” asked Victor. “Is he not all right? What does his letter say?”
“I haven’t read it yet,” Mina said quietly. “I have been afraid that it was full of bad news, and I didn’t want to put a damper on the nice day Lucy was having. No need to worry her with my own concerns when she should be looking after herself.”
“Mina, that is foolish!” Jack chided. “You and Lucy have been best friends for years. She would be hurt to know you have concealed something like this.”
“I know, but I was afraid,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. “I haven’t the constitution to read this letter myself. Might one of you do it?”
“Of course, my dear,” said Van Helsing, although he made no move to take the missive from her.
Victor stepped forward and gently took it from Mina’s small hand. “I shall read it aloud for you.”
“Not here. Can we go to my favorite bench in the cemetery?”
Victor smiled. “Of course we can.”
The foursome stepped out of Whitby and wandered toward the graveyard. In the weeks that Victor had been here he had not once witnessed a groundskeeper and yet the graveyard remained well-tended and maintained, not a blade of grass out of place and fresh flowers placed on the grave of Lucy’s father and grandfather.
Mina sat down primly upon the white stone bench where she and Lucy had enjoyed many lazy days of gossip and secret telling, trying to dispel once more the image of Dracula leaning over Lucy. Despite the recent sullying of the sacred spot, it remained one of Mina’s favorite places, and she wanted to hear from her beloved while sitting upon this bench. She arranged her skirts and then primly folded her hands in her lap before looking up at Victor with a solemn expression. “I am ready.”
