Dracula Theory, page 5
“To what end?” I demanded.
“Protect us from a demon,” Van Helsing answered.
“I’ve had enough of your ravings. You’re mad, Van Helsing. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of that there is no doubt.” Abraham beamed. “I lost what little sanity remained the last time I was involved with an exorcism that nearly killed me. It was that moment I realized my purpose in life.”
After that ominous proclamation, Van Helsing went silent.
“Which is?” Renfield prodded.
“Hunting down and ridding the world of evil.”
“In the name of reason and logic, this is lunacy. One must believe in good to also believe in evil. I, for one, have no room in my life for such nonsense.”
“You will, my friend. You will.” Van Helsing patted the trunk. “If you don’t mind.”
As one, the three of us hoisted the cargo onto the boat, where a baggage man attempted to take up the mantle of carrying it to storage. When the gent realized he’d been bested, both Renfield and I offered our assistance. With great effort and patience, we stowed the trunk out of the way and returned to Van Helsing’s side.
“Care to explain the baggage?” I asked after taking my seat.
Van Helsing extracted a small diary from his breast pocket and thumbed through the pages until he was satisfied he’d found the proper entry. He read. “‘It is rumored the vampire is weakened by silver; not incapacitated, but merely sapped of strength. House the beast in a cage of the metal, and it will be unable to strike or escape.’” The vampire hunter closed the book. “Does that offer you enough explanation?”
Renfield and I nodded. I raised my hand as though we were in the classroom.
“May I ask—”
Van Helsing interrupted. “You may.”
I continued. “Why do you believe, when you have absolutely no indication that the Count is of any danger to us, that the man needs to be caged in a,” I hesitated to voice the idea, “vampire-proof box? Add to that, how do you expect us to force the man inside a trunk?”
Van Helsing smiled wide enough to make slits of his eyes. “Therein lies the rub. I’m not certain how we’ll accomplish that task. However, we must do so. As long as Dracula is outside of that case, we are all in danger.”
Renfield raised his hand.
“Yes, Mr. Renfield?”
“Then I’m all for stuffing the vampire into Van Helsing’s box.”
I stiffened. “Dracula is not a vamp—”
“You know not of what you speak, young Harker. If you want to survive this journey, you will do as I say. Otherwise, I cannot guarantee your safe return, nor the life of your beloved.”
“How do you know all of this? What has made you such an expert in this field?”
Van Helsing glanced my way, an excited look painted across his face. “Young man, your question cuts to the heart of my very existence. I am a vampire hunter. I have spent decades researching this sinister creature and written extensively of its history. My studies have carried me across the globe, searching for every scrap of information I could find on the vampire. From Tunisia to Prussia, China to Macedonia, America to Africa, I have visited every dark corner of every country. From that study, I have managed to formulate what I call the Dracula Theory.”
“Which is?” Renfield prodded.
Abraham beamed. “The reason the Baron hired me.”
Curiosity insisted I lean forward and ask, “Care to explain yourself?”
“I was hoping your curiosity would be piqued. The vampire is immortal. I believe this is brought about by the chemical composition of their blood. I am certain that if we can inject the blood of such a creature into Mina’s system, the effects of her illness will be reversed.”
“The blood is life,” Renfield whispered.
“Exactly, my good man.” Van Helsing continued. “This is precisely why we must bring the Count to England. With his blood, we can save Mina.”
“Why not simply extract a sample of the man’s blood? Wouldn’t that be easier to transport?”
“That, Mr. Harker, is part of my theory. The blood must either be ingested via bite or quickly transfused from one body to the next. Should the blood be exposed to any form of light, its mystical qualities are rendered inert.”
Renfield bounced on his seat. “So Mina must drink from the tap of Count Dracula.”
Van Helsing placed a calming hand on Mr. Renfield’s shoulder. “No, my friend. That would be far too dangerous. We are going to draw the blood from the Count and pass it directly into Mina, by way of a rather ingenious invention of mine.”
“This is madness.” I proclaimed.
“Isn’t it though?” Van Helsing surprised me with his reply. “I have been waiting to test my theory for years.”
I couldn’t stop my anger from boiling. I grabbed Van Helsing by the collar and hoisted him to his feet. “My fiancée is not your laboratory experiment. I will not allow you to endanger her any further. I don’t care how much Mina’s father is paying you, your mad science will not be permitted.”
Abraham shrugged off my grip and mocked my outrage with a throaty laugh. “Mr. Harker, you have no say in this. Mina’s father has made his decision, and it is quite binding. Should you attempt to stop me, it would, I venture, be the last time you ever step foot in the Murray residence. You’re a smart enough man to know what that means.”
With a huff, I dropped back into my seat. Renfield clapped his hands together and laughed like a giddy child. Van Helsing slowly made his way back to sitting. We three sat in silence for a long while. I couldn’t be certain what to say that wouldn’t end in fisticuffs.
I decided my best bet was to keep Van Helsing’s attention focused on his theory.
“Where did you first learn of the vampire?”
Abraham’s eyes lit up, and his lips curled into a radiant smile.
“The first mention I found of the vampire was from a small village outside Transylvania. A passage in a book titled ‘Ancient Blood Medicine and Ritualistic Cultures’ spoke of a man who drank the blood of humans to stave off sickness. It was documented that the man lived to be well over two hundred years old.”
“The blood is life,” Renfield repeated his new mantra.
“That is inconceivable,” I argued.
“I thought the very same thing. To wit, my doubt sent me traveling to that village. You’ll never believe who greeted me upon my arrival.”
“The old man?” Renfield guessed.
“Indeed. Upon our meeting, the gentleman was two hundred and seventy years old.”
“How was it possible for him to prove such a thing?”
“I was given the chance to view the records. The man’s age was accurate. I was also given the opportunity to attend his ritualized drinking of blood. It was magnificent. The townsfolk willingly offered their veins to his purpose, knowing they were directly responsible for beating back the rising tide of nature. Once a month a vessel was selected. Under a full moon, the villagers would gather in their church and stand in a circle as the elder man punctured the neck of the vessel and drank deep of their blood. I never heard tell of the man’s death, but I am convinced, as Mr. Renfield is so fond of saying, that the blood is life.”
After a moment of considering the tale we’d just been told, I shook my head and announced, “This is preposterous.”
“I understand your misgivings. The story I just recounted sounds like the ramblings of a lunatic. However, I assure you it is as true as the story of my own birth. In fact, I am certain that man was not the first vampire … only the first in recorded history. I believe their kind predates man.”
“You are insinuating that we are descendants of vampires? You, sir, have lost all credibility in my eyes.”
“Given I’ve never enjoyed such a status in the first place, I would say that nothing has been lost, nor gained. Nevertheless, we have a mission and we will see it to completion. If you are unwilling to aid Mr. Renfield and me in returning with Count Dracula in that box, I will gladly hire another man and send you back to England on the first train out of Romania.”
I stared deep into the wells of Van Helsing’s eyes, searching desperately for some hint of trickery or lie. When I found none, I capitulated.
“Fine. But know this, Abraham, I will not be party to murder or any sort of torturous act. Should you show any signs of such violence, I will part ways with you and your deeds.”
“One hand casts a shadow, while the other holds the flame.” Van Helsing leaned back in his seat. “Remember that, my friend. Our survival depends upon each of us knowing the profound difference between darkness and light. Find yourself in the shadows, and the flame of your life could be extinguished. No matter what you beheld in Bran Castle, we are up against an ancient evil of considerable power.”
SIX
A Case For Fear
When first I arrived in Romania, the only fear coursing through my veins was inspired purely by the Baron’s edicts. This time around, every shadow, every noise brought the hair on my neck to attention. Fear had become my motivation, my de facto standard. I hated that Van Helsing’s flights of fancy managed to wind their way deep into the fiber of my being, but what could I do? The man was a professional con artist, one so adept at emotional prestidigitation, my faculties stood not a chance against him.
Or—and I dreaded the very idea—maybe he was telling the truth. Although the Count was cordial to me to a fault, there was a rather foreboding cloud hanging over the village.
And bats.
And wolves.
I should have been painfully aware of the danger during that first visit to the village. The crone, the wolves, the locals baring deadly fangs … it was all so obvious. How was I so blind to that particular reality? It wasn’t until the Baron’s threats were cast under the looming shadow of Van Helsing’s madness that my eyes were opened to this Romanian truth.
We struggled to pull the trunk from the boat. Once it thunked onto the cobblestone road, I turned my attention to Van Helsing.
“Bran Castle is a bit far to carry this monstrosity.”
Abraham winked. “No need to concern yourself about that. I’ve already arranged a means of travel.” The man patted his belly. “However, before we embark, I am in need of sustenance. Care to recommend somewhere? That is, assuming this small village has a bar or inn which can provide repast.”
I pointed toward Constantin’s establishment.
“Piss off.” Renfield leaned against the trunk. “I cannot carry this blasted thing any further.”
Van Helsing smacked the moaning man across the shoulder. “You will or you won’t be paid.”
“About that.” Renfield stood upright. “As of this moment, I’m doubling my fee.”
“No, you’re not,” Van Helsing responded.
“No, I’m not.” Renfield caved.
I wasn’t sure what I’d witnessed. Did Van Helsing have Mr. Renfield under some spell, or was Renfield that prone to suggestion? Either way, I made a mental note to use the utmost caution around Abraham, lest he convince me to make a deal with the devil.
We heaved the trunk from the ground and slowly made our way to the inn. With great effort, we hauled the case inside the building. The second we set it down, Constantin’s voice bellowed from behind the bar. “Mr. Harker, you have returned sooner than I’d have thought. And you brought with you friends?”
I turned to see the barkeep grinning wide. “I have, indeed. Hungry friends, I might add. Three bowls of your famous stew and ales to boot.”
“If you have bani, I have provisions.”
Van Helsing extracted his wallet. “You will be rewarded handsomely as soon as my stomach ceases its barrage of complaints.”
Constantin entered the kitchen with a boisterous laugh. I took in the room and, to my great dismay, found Alexandru seated at the bar. The man glared at me, his upper lip curled just enough to reveal his elongated canines. I pulled Van Helsing to me and whispered, “You see that man?”
“I do, indeed.” Van Helsing’s voice dropped into the darkest depths. “Vampire.”
“He’s—”
Van Helsing cut me off. “Evil.” Without saying another word, Abraham reached into his pocket and pulled out three small bulbs. Judging from the smell wafting from his hands, the odiferous objects could only be…
“Garlic?”
Abraham nodded and handed a clove to me. “Keep this with you at all times. In fact, I would recommend crushing it in your hands and rubbing the juice over your neck and wrists.”
“To what end?” Renfield questioned.
Before Van Helsing could answer, Constantin entered, balancing a large tray on his hand. “Your stew and ale. I added a little bread for each. No extra charge.” The keep placed the tray on a table and gestured for us to partake.
“It smells delicious,” Renfield announced as he hovered over a bowl.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked. “Grace?”
Renfield snatched up a spoon and pointed it to me. “You are a funny, funny man, Mr. Harker. Our father, who aren’t in heaven, hallowed be this broth.”
Together, we dove into the meal with absolute abandon, eating as though food hadn’t crossed our lips in weeks. Knowing what lay before us, I reckoned this might well be our last meal for some time.
As I swallowed a spoonful of stew, Alexandru stood from his stool and crossed to our table. Once by my side, he slammed down a meaty fist and growled, “It’s time you die.”
Before the man could utter another word, Van Helsing raised his hand and squeezed his fingers into a tight fist. Immediately, the smell of garlic permeated the air. Alexandru, backed away, repulsed by the stench. After stumbling over a chair, the overlarge man regained his composure and strode back to the table. Once again, Van Helsing raised his hand toward the attacker.
Alexandru shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way, old man.” Before anyone had a chance to respond, Alexandru shot his hand out and had Van Helsing’s neck in his grasp. Without hesitation, I withdrew a knife from a sheath in the back side of my pants and buried the point in Alexandru’s neck.
“Let him go or I’ll perforate your carotid artery. You’ll bleed out before anyone would have a chance to save you.”
Alexandru laughed. “A weak man like you? No. There is nothing you could do to one such as I.”
Renfield slammed the palm of his hand against Alexandru’s forehead. Puffs of acrid smoke escaped from between his fingers, as the attacker’s face contorted into a web of pain. Within seconds, the man released Van Helsing and stumbled backward, slapping at his still-smoldering flesh. Renfield unfurled his fingers and an all-too familiar cross unwound from a leather thong.
I reached for my throat and found Lucy’s necklace missing. “How did you?”
“Save that man’s life?” Mr. Renfield winked and offered the cross to me. “It’s easy when your mark’s asleep. I can nick anything, from anyone, anytime.”
“Good to know,” I replied while pocketing the jewelry.
Alexandru opened his mouth wide and hissed, spittle flying from between his lips in angry bursts.
“Away with you!” Constantin shouted.
Without a word of complaint, Alexandru left the building. A gust of wind carried a disturbing chill, as the door remained open in the man’s wake. Constantin made his way to the exit and closed the door. When he turned to us, his face was completely neutral, unreadable.
Van Helsing swallowed a mouthful of ale and nodded. “Care to explain what just happened?”
A nervous laugh escaped Constantin’s mouth. “He’s a violent drunkard, always hoping to pick fights with anyone who’ll fall prey to his antics. I apologize and will refund your bani for the meal.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Van Helsing sang out with gusto. “What I would appreciate is the truth. You’re dodging the obvious here.”
Constantin returned to his place behind the bar. “I don’t understand.”
Abraham pointed toward the door. “That man is a—”
I stopped Van Helsing short with a hand over his mouth. “—menace and nothing more. Let’s forget this happened and enjoy our meal.”
“This has become quite the interesting adventure,” Renfield whispered before digging into his stew. “And this, my good man, is delicious.”
“Thank you, sir. I have plenty more if you so desire.”
“I do desire. I do very much. Keep the bowls coming, and Mr. Abraham will keep the payments flowing.”
Constantin leaned toward us, his eyes and mouth narrowing. “A word of advice, if you please. Alexandru is a nasty sort who may well be waiting for you on the streets. He is far more dangerous than you might assume.”
Van Helsing patted his hip, a gesture that wasn’t lost on me.
“I have no concerns for a drunken hellraiser. Let the man attack me, and it’ll be his last action. I am not one to be trifled with on any account. In fact, he is the one you should be warning.”
Constantin’s demeanor shifted ever so slightly from congeniality to mistrust. Before the man’s attitude could grow darker, Van Helsing stood and offered a tip of an imaginary hat.
“Thank you, most kindly, for the delicious meal, sir. I’d love to stay and chat, but my colleagues and I are pressed for time.”
“But I’m not finished yet,” Renfield complained.
Van Helsing poured the remainder of Mr. Renfield’s ale into his stew. “You are now.”
“How dare—” Renfield started, but quickly fell to silence after a harsh glare from Van Helsing. The slight man’s demeanor shifted from threat to concede. “We’ll be going then.”
We stopped at the door and manhandled the trunk back outside. The second the door closed behind us, I turned to Van Helsing. “I thought you arranged for transportation to Bran Castle?”
As soon as the question left my mouth, a carriage approached. Van Helsing looked to me and winked. “Voila!”
“What sort of magic is this,” Renfield whispered, “that you can summon transportation from thin air?”
