Dracula Theory, page 3
Constantin considered my request. When he finally capitulated, it was done with a forbidding glare. “I will help you, but you must never tell anyone and you must make your journey immediately. Do not find yourself traveling to Castle Bran once the sun has set, otherwise your chances of survival are negligible.” Constantin glanced about the room, his gaze darting into and out of the shadows as if someone—or something—might be present. “I will draw out a map for you leading directly to the Count’s castle. Do not, for any reason, stray from this route. Should you not follow my directions, your suffering will be one for the annals of history.”
After a meaningful glance, Constantin set about drawing a map for me to follow. I didn’t have to retrieve the directions in my pocket to realize what he’d offered was vastly different from the map in my possession. For the briefest of moments, my thoughts twisted into a knot of mistrust. Was this man leading me into some trap that would end with my demise?
“Take this and do not tell anyone else what you are doing. Go swiftly and silently. Should you remain alive, return here for a final meal before departing the country.”
I accepted the roughly drawn map and, after a quick nod, took my leave.
Outside the sun had vanished behind a thick blanket of cloud coverage, and a chilling mist brought an added layer of misery to the moment. After a quick glance at the paper, I strode off, with purpose, toward Bran Castle.
The home of Count Dracula.
*****
The route was circuitous, weaving me through open fields, copses of trees, churchyards, and farms. Not once did I traverse a city street or populated area. In fact, throughout my travels, I miraculously avoided spotting a single denizen of the town. I was, for all intents and purposes, a shadow gliding unseen in the very light of day. Even though the chilly air cut through my clothing, the isolation was a much-needed creature comfort that warmed my bones.
The rain had turned the soil to mud. With each step, I sank deeper and deeper, until my legs were encumbered with the weight of too much muck. Every time I pulled my shoe from the mire, I’d give it a shake to loosen some of the earthen baggage.
After passing through a graveyard littered with displaced and shattered headstones, I spotted what had to be my destination. Standing atop a hill, surrounded by twisted, knotty, and leaf-barren trees was the single spire of Bran Castle. A dark gray storm cloud hovered just above the structure, lending the scene a sense of foreboding I didn’t need or want to behold.
With images of Mina burned brightly in my mind’s eye, I continued forward. I had come this far. Save death, nothing would stop me.
As I drew nearer the castle, I happened upon a much-welcomed cobblestone pathway.
“Thanks be to God for this gift,” I mumbled, grateful to feel the weight at my feet lighten slightly. With each step closer to my destination, the temperature teased lower and lower, until my breath became a visible vapor, rolling from between my lips. My water-soaked clothing did me no favors, bringing about an inescapable chill.
Much to my great relief, the entryway to the castle appeared before hypothermia brought me to my knees. In the center of the door was a great knocker of hand-pounded iron. It took quite a bit of effort, but I raised the heavy, twisted knuckle and brought it down on the door. The sound of metal on wood echoed within the stone castle. After three booming knocks, I waited, shivering in the cold.
To no avail.
From the other side of the threshold there were no footsteps to be heard, no sounds of movement whatsoever. I gave the door a second beating.
Again, to no avail.
Instead of going for a third bout of knocking, I grabbed the handle of the door and gave it a lift. To my surprise, the latch capitulated and the door swung open on complaining hinges. From within, a blast of stale air wafted past, sending spider webs waving in its wake.
“The point of no return, Harker,” I whispered.
With my will steeled, I stepped foot into Dracula’s castle and carefully closed the door behind me. Had it not been for a single flaming torch, I’d have been bathed in darkness. Not one window was present to illuminate my way. Shadows danced across the walls and floor, bringing with them a horrific narrative to my overactive imagination.
With my eyes fully adjusted to the dimly lit room, I was able to spy a sweeping grand staircase before me. My gaze followed the steps, one by one, to spy a shadow, cast by a cloaked figure, stretching from the top of the stairs down to the midway point.
"Good evening." The figure spoke in a thick and silk-slick Romanian accent from above me. “Welcome to my home. I am—”
“Count Dracula,” I braved the storm of fear in my throat and cut the man short.
Slowly, step by step, Dracula began to descend the staircase. The man’s movements were so smooth, one could be so inclined to believe him floating. “You have me at a disadvantage. I do not believe we have been acquainted.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Count. My name is Jonathan Harker. I have been sent to you by the Baron Murray.”
“I am unfamiliar with both names. You must forgive me for being unaware of your arrival. Do we have business together? I ask, only because I place a great value on my privacy and very few are ever allowed within the walls of my home.”
I slowly reached into my breast pocket to retrieve the letter, penned by the Baron and addressed to the Count. The man instantly tensed, as if I were about to extract a weapon and do him harm.
“A letter. From the Baron. This should explain my visit.” Or so I’d hoped. I’d examined the majority of the envelope’s contents but was given strict orders to not breech the seal on the letter. I had no idea what demands lay within, other than Mina’s father made it clear that lives were depending upon the Count reading its contents and agreeing to its request.
Dracula offered a graceful gesture toward me. It was at this point I could finally make out the finer details of the man’s appearance. Had I ever beheld the perfect specimen of humanity, it would have paled in comparison to Count Dracula. The man was stunningly beautiful. Milk-white skin held a youthful appearance that belied his status and stature. The Count carried himself with an androgynous grace and dressed as if he were on his way to a formal dance or wedding. He wore a black brocade cape with a spider web collar that loomed over his head.
“Read it aloud to me.” The Count’s voice carried with it not question, but command. I had no choice in the matter. It was on me to open a letter, writ large by a most powerful man, and read it aloud to a Romanian Count.
The payoff for my efforts would be worth the time and danger … of that, I was convinced. For Mina, I thought, before reading the letter to the count. “Dearest Count Dracula, It is with an aching heart that I must write this letter, one that has filled me with a sense of tragedy, unlike any I have ever before known. My daughter has been stricken with an illness, one that our modern medicine cannot fathom or cure.” I paused, shocked at what I’d only just read. When last I was in Mina’s presence, she had displayed no obvious signs of ill health. Outside of a slight case of lethargy, one I attributed to the weather, my fiancée was fine.
Or so I’d assumed.
The Count raised an eyebrow. “Is that all the letter states?”
As much as I wanted to turn away and race back to England, scoop Mina into my arms, and know, firsthand, her father’s words were purest lie, I knew that was not my choice to make. My fate had been cast, and I had no choice but to fulfill the Baron’s wishes. With that in mind, I continued reading. “I am afraid, without your help, my precious Mina is not long for this world.”
Again, the words confounded me. Not only was I not aware, in the slightest, that Mina was in poor health—especially poor enough that would warrant a trip to far-off lands—but that she was ill enough to be on death’s bed? How was I so blind to the world around me? The only answer I could conjure was that of love. Cupid sent his metaphorical arrows deep into the wells of each eye—blinding me to reality.
“And what has this to do with me, Mr. Harker?” Dracula’s luscious voice yanked me from my reverie.
I continued reading the letter.
“I happened upon a Dutch man, Abraham Van Helsing—”
At the mention of the name, Count Dracula stiffened slightly.
Yet again, I continued with the missive.
“Mr. Van Helsing spoke of a most intriguing possibility. It is rumored that a miracle flows within your veins, one that could cure my precious daughter of that which threatens her very existence. Should you be willing to oblige my family, I have wealth beyond your imagination. Travel to England with my assistant, share with my Mina your secret, and I will reward you such that you may live like a king for the rest of your days. Respectfully yours, Baron Murray.”
I folded the letter and offered it to the Count. The man returned an empty stare at me. To save face, I placed the letter on a small table, next to a gilded vase containing a dozen luxurious red roses.
“There is tragedy in your eyes, Mr. Harker.”
I nodded. “Indeed, there is. I had no idea my fiancée was ill.”
“Ignorance toward those you love does not make for a successful marriage.” The Count nodded. “At least I would presume. You see, I am not, nor have I ever been wed. It is both a blessing and a curse.”
“I hate to be blunt, sir, but do you have an answer?”
“For which question?”
“Are you willing to return to England with me and—”
The Count cut me short. “Do what?”
“I honestly don’t know. I have been left in the dark as to these miraculous rumors.”
“Unfortunately, my dear man, I am unable to leave Romania. You see, the people of this good town depend upon me. In fact, one might say they’d be damned to a most wretched fate should I depart.”
“The Baron will pay you handsomely.”
Dracula laughed—the sound like devil and angel in unison. “I am one of the wealthiest men in this country. I have no need for Mr. Murray’s pittance. I am terribly sorry, young man. My answer is no.”
“Please, sir.”
Dracula’s eyes narrowed and his lips grew thin enough to revel a set of incisors very similar to those I’d seen in the mouth of madness at the bar in town—only these were longer and sharper. “You have my answer. I would ask you to depart before I grow impatient. Under normal circumstances, I would invite you to stay within the safety of my keep. After all, there is danger lurking in the shadows of night you do not want to behold. I am, generally speaking, a most gracious and giving host. However, it is clear we are at an impasse and your persistence has worn on my patience. So, before my temper flares, I ask you to take your leave.”
What could I do? It was not in my nature to fight, and I certainly wasn’t armed for battle. But leaving without Dracula at my side—as the Baron requested—would certainly be the dissolution of my engagement to Mina.
Or much, much worse.
“No matter the cost, sir, you must come with me to England. I beg you.”
Dracula drew up, seeming to grow a full head higher than he previously stood. It was then that the Count bared his teeth in their entirety—a sight that fixed my feet to the floor in abject fear.
“Go now, or your life is mine to feast upon.”
I wasn’t certain what Dracula meant by the threat, but I decided it wasn’t in my best interest to wait around for further explanation. Without so much as a thought to Mina or the Baron, I turned on my heels and raced toward the door.
Outside, the sun was quickly setting behind a fog of midnight. Off in the distance, the now-familiar howl of wolves broke the silent spell, sending my heart racing at a dangerous pace. For some unknown reason, my mind drifted back to the boys’ choir and the Haydn they sang. There was a peace to be had in the music that, much to my dismay, brought me no solace in the moment.
I raced off, away from Bran Castle, down the cobblestone path to retrace the route Constantin set out for me. The cry of the beasts grew nearer as I panted against the growing weight of mud on my feet. My legs and chest burned, begged for respite. I dare not give in, lest the danger drawing near fall upon me.
The canopy of trees vanished from above as I was spat from a copse of thick foliage. I found myself in an open field, dimly lit by a blue-tinted moon. Ahead of me was a shape, low to the ground and motionless. Two glowing red eyes glared at me through the spans of darkness. This was the beast calling out for me. It was my predator and I its prey.
After a long moment of staring, the beast stood and began to slowly walk toward me. My heart insisted I speed off in any direction, so long as it was away from the animal. Instead, my feet remained planted to the ground. What could I do? My chances of outrunning a wolf were zero, and I was unarmed.
As the creature drew near, the maddening sound of flapping wings overtook the field, as though hundreds of birds were descending from the sky. The wolf and I glanced toward the heavens to see a cloud of bats flitting into a rather odd formation—a cylinder of sorts. The shape floated downward and engulfed the beast before me. From beneath the sound of flapping, leathery wings, a distraught howl intoned a rather unnatural tragedy. And then, as quickly as they came, the bats took back to the wind and into the sky.
The wolf was no more. Whether the bats devoured him or he ran off, under the cover of wings, I had no idea. What I did know was that my path was safe from immediate danger. I took no chances and sprinted off, back toward town and the bar.
FOUR
ENGLAND
The House of Murray
“What do you mean he said no?” The Baron was shouting, his face blood-red with anger. “I made your task quite clear.”
“With all due respect, sir, you did no such thing. You handed me a letter to deliver to the Count and said no more of it. I had no idea the contents of your communiqué, nor of my darling Mina’s condition. The only forewarning I had was your threat to refuse Mina’s hand in marriage. Had I known how dire the situation was, chances are I might have been a bit more persuasive.”
“This is what happens when you send a boy to do a man’s job.”
“I beg your forgiveness, Baron.”
“And you shall not have it.” The Baron dropped into the chair behind his desk and took up his pen. “I am sending you back to Romania, this time with some assistance. Should you fail me again, the consequences will be far more than my refusal to accept you into this family.” The Baron glared up at me, his eyes burning with a most apparent rage. “Should you return without the Count, I will have you stripped of your license. You’ll never see the inside of a courtroom again.”
“You’re mad if you—”
The Baron looked to me with a gaze that threatened to freeze the very blood in my veins. “Try me not, Harker. If you ever want to see Mina or practice law in this city again, you will do as I say.”
And with that, the Baron folded his letter into thirds and handed it over to me. “Deliver this to the home of Abraham Van Helsing. He and another man, Mr. R. M. Renfield will accompany you back to Dracula’s home. With their aid, I believe you’ll have no problems convincing the Count to accompany you here.” Once again, the Baron’s deadly glare threatened to burn out my eyes. “No matter the cost, bring that man to me. Know this, above all else ... without him, Mina is not long for this world.”
The Baron motioned for me to take my leave. I had no other path but to comply. Instead of showing myself out, I opted to take a quick detour to Mina’s room. Under normal circumstances, I would never think of being so forward as to enter a lady’s boudoir without being invited. This situation, however, was extenuating, and desperate measures were necessary.
I would probably live to regret this decision, but I didn’t bother to knock. Mina’s bedroom door swung open, and a wall of cold, stale air wafted over me. The first thing I noticed was the raspy sound of labored breathing. Each inhalation threatening to be her last.
Mina lay on her bed, under a mound of woolen blankets, with only her head peeking out. I slowly made my way to her side and leaned over to lay my lips to her forehead. The sight of my love sent me reeling backward. The flesh of her face was white—not the milk white of purity and chastity, but the pallor of life’s last moment, slick with a cold sweat of fever. Her chest heaved as it labored to inhale the slightest breath.
“What has happened to you, my love?” My question fell to silence, no answer or so much as a hint of recognition. Mina’s blue lips offered not even the softest sound, nor did they purse together in hopes of love’s final kiss. My fiancée seemed, to the naked eye, simultaneously alive and dead. “My darling sunshine, what has befallen you. When last we spoke, you were flush with life.” I pulled Mina’s hand into mine and kissed her chilled flesh. “I adore you and will do anything in my power to bring you back to health.”
Mina’s hand gave mine the slightest squeeze, as if to say, “I place my trust fully in your care.” Tears rained down from my eyes, to pepper the skin of Mina’s wrist. The moment was not lost on the woman so far and yet so near to me. Once again, she gave my hand a squeeze, this time with slightly more force. At least, in the action, I knew Mina was still alive.
A soft rapping sounded behind me. I feared the Baron was about to descend upon the room, rip me from my place beside Mina, and threaten my very existence. When I turned, I was relieved to see Mina’s dearest friend, Lucy Westenra, standing in the doorframe. The second she lay her gaze on me, she rushed into the room and wrapped me in an embrace that could have easily been misconstrued.
“How did this happen?” I asked.
Lucy whispered in my ear, “No one knows.” She pulled away. “Mina started displaying signs of weakness a couple of months before you left for Romania. She insisted I say nothing to you, fearing you’d call off the marriage, due to her health. Only she, myself, and her father knew of her condition. That is, until the Baron had every doctor in the area look Mina over. No one from the profession could draw a single conclusion as to why Mina’s health had declined so rapidly. After you left, she grew considerably worse, until she fell into such a deep sleep we feared the Grim Reaper was ready to take her away.”
