Dracula Theory, page 6
“A good magician never reveals his secrets,” Van Helsing replied.
With great effort, we heaved the trunk onto the back of the carriage and took our seats within. Before I could say a word, the horses hauled us off, toward our destination.
“Listen to me, Abraham,” I snapped. “You cannot let any of the locals know we are aware of the vampire’s existence.”
“I don’t see how that could be an issue, especially since the Count is obviously not the only vampire in this dreadful village. This new piece of information goes against everything I have read about how the creature exists. The vampire’s life—if one may call it such—is that of isolation, using the local townsfolk as a means to an end. According to every scholar I know, only one vampire can exist within a certain size population.”
“Why’s that?” Renfield asked, licking his dry, encrusted lips.
“Food supply. If you have more than one vampire, they’ll wind up at war for the rights to the living. Too many of the bastards and the population would be drained and dead, leaving the evil ones only one choice.”
“Which is?” I prodded.
“To move on to another village, where the blood supply is plentiful. They would repeat the cycle, which is not an efficient means of survival.”
“Then how do you explain Alexandru? Is he the Count?” Renfield’s curiosity was piqued.
“No,” I replied. “I’ve been with Dracula, and he is nothing like that madman. The Count carries with him an air of peace and elegance. Alexandru is a monstrous wildling, incapable of controlling his temper.”
Van Helsing removed his diary and thumbed through the pages. “Although I would normally be inclined to agree with your summation, it is also known that the vampire can shape shift. I believe it not within the realm of the impossible that the Count and Alexandru are one and the same.”
“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” I snipped.
The carriage left the cobblestone road to find its way onto a muddy path, canopied by the skeletons of bare trees. Save for the pounding of horse hooves and the relentless slopping of mud on the wooden wheels, all was silent. That is, until a loud thump sounded off from above. The noise was then followed by what could only be footsteps on the roof of the carriage. Seconds later, the horses came to a slow, anxious stop.
“What’s going on?” Renfield asked, his voice thick with nervous energy.
Van Helsing clenched his jaw. “We’re about to find out.”
As Abraham reached for the door, I noticed a vial of clear liquid dangling from a chain around his wrist.
“What are you going to do, Van Helsing? Baptize someone?”
Van Helsing picked up on that which held my attention and replied, “Holy water. If you have any hopes of surviving this journey, I’d recommend you being by my side at all times.”
Before anyone had a chance to respond or react, a fist broke through the roof of the carriage. Splinters and larger fragments of wood careened off the inside walls. The fingers opened and closed, as if the owner was hoping to grab a handful of something. Logic would dictate said something be one of the three men, of which I was included.
A roar rattled the fractured roof, as the hand was pulled back. The voice producing the infernal noise could only belong to one man.
“Alexandru,” I whispered.
Van Helsing flung open his jacket. I expected to see the handle and holster of a pistol. Instead, Abraham wrapped his fingers around a short shaft of wood, and removed it from his belt to reveal a most deadly point.
“Aren’t there more effective means of murder?” Renfield asked.
“Not in this case,” Van Helsing answered. “We are up against an ancient evil that mocks the modern convention. The two of you are going to have to catch the beast and hold him steady, whilst I plunge the stake into the thing’s heart.”
“No, sir.” I insisted, my English sensibilities taking hold of my resolve. “I am not getting anywhere near that—”
The hand reached through the hole again. This time the wretched beast grabbed a fistful of my hair. With a swift yank, the hand lifted me off my seat. The scream that escaped my mouth was primal, something I’d never before produced.
“Help me!” I shouted.
Van Helsing uncapped his holy water and splashed it onto the exposed skin. A cry of agony filled the carriage and the arm, once again, vanished through the hole. A cloud of acrid smoke filled the enclosure.
The carriage was pitched to one side and then the next. The bastard was rocking us back and forth, as though we were a mouse to its cat. The horses whinnied loudly against the twisting of the harnesses.
“Come out and play,” Alexandru growled. “I like to toy with my dinner before devouring it whole.”
With a thunderous roar, the door to the carriage was ripped from its hinges to reveal Alexandru, his hands pumping in and out of fists. “I hoped you’d return to our village, Harker. You and I have unfinished business.”
“I—I don’t believe we do.”
“You mocked me, and you stink of the living. I could have lived with one, but for you to have insulted my pride and my sense of smell? I cannot abide such an intolerable combination.”
“I would never have thought you capable of anything more than monosyllabic words, Alexandru.”
Van Helsing slapped my shoulder. “Must you?”
“You’re dead,” Alexandru roared and pulled me from the carriage.
I was unable to react in time, which gave the vampire a perfect opportunity to wrap me in a crushing embrace. He opened his great maw to reveal the pointed canines glinting in the moonlight. In a moment of clarity, I remembered I’d tucked the garlic into my pocket. With a speed I hadn’t known myself capable of, I grabbed the bulb and shoved it into Alexandru’s wide-open mouth. I stood to my full height to press my shoulder into his lower jaw, the act forcing his mouth closed over the clove of garlic.
An inhuman scream spilled from the vampire. He slapped at his mouth while a pinkish foam poured forth and spilled down his chest to stain the aged, brocade coat. The amount of froth was astonishing, as was the color. I could only assume the crimson tinge was caused by an internal bleeding of sorts.
Alexandru pressed his lips together to prevent further loss of blood. He tilted his head to the right and to the left, and then, to my great surprise, shifted into a wolf and raced off, howling in agony.
We three stood in silence for an overlong period. With the baleful howl silenced, Mr. Renfield broke the spell. “What in the bloody hell did I just see?”
“The powers of a vampire on full display,” Van Helsing answered. “Remarkable.”
“Horrifying,” I added.
“Beautiful,” Renfield whispered.
“We must spare not one second. If I were to guess, Alexandru is on his way to Bran Castle to be healed. Should he arrive first, he’ll warn Dracula of our coming, which would doom any chance of success we might have.”
It was then that we realized Alexandru had ripped our driver from his seat and hurled him into the trees, the body impaled on a branch.
“Either of you know how to drive a carriage?” Van Helsing asked.
Without responding, Mr. Renfield climbed onto the driver’s seat and grabbed the reins. Abraham and I entered the carriage in time for the horses to trot off. Within minutes we were racing at a gallop, heading toward the home of Count Dracula.
SEVEN
Bran Castle
“I have to admit,” Van Helsing started, “I was expecting something much grander.”
“Trust me, the castle is much larger inside than it is outside.”
“That’s not possible, my good man. The size of—”
“I was speaking in metaphor,” I stopped the man short.
“I’m not certain you understand how that works, Jonathan.”
“This discussion is pointless. We don’t have time for semantics or philosophical debates about the relativity of size.”
“There is always time for a good debate,” Van Helsing chuckled, as he tilted a flask back and drank deep from whatever gut-warming liquor it held.
“Not when the life of Mina is on the line.”
The mention of my fiancée brought Van Helsing’s levity to an immediate halt.
Renfield hopped down from the driver’s seat and, as one, we approached the door. Van Helsing carried a satchel at his side, one I assumed was filled with his weapons of unholy war.
My heart raced against its bony cage. I wasn’t made to go to battle with monsters and demons most foul. The only fight I could successfully win was within the courtroom. And even then, my success rate was marginal. How I was going to find any semblance of victory against a beast even more powerful than Alexandru was beyond my comprehension.
Clearly Abraham’s lunatic ramblings had wound their way deep into my psyche. In my current state, I couldn’t be certain just how I felt about the Count. Was he friend or foe? Devil or angel? I’d soon find out.
The door loomed before us, shut tight against intruders.
“Well?” Renfield asked softly. “Do we knock or barge in?”
We didn’t have a chance to answer the presented question. The massive door creaked open of its own volition. Within the darkness, not a soul stirred or stood. The hellish invitation awaited our response. My feet were glued to the ground, preventing me from stepping forward and into the known unknown. What horrors awaited us? Was Count Dracula still in the same cordial mood as before? Or had Alexandru reached the man to spoil my return?
There was only one way to find out.
Cautiously, I stepped into the castle, inch by horrible inch. My legs trembled beneath me, threatening to send me bouncing off the stone floor. I could feel the presence of Van Helsing and Renfield behind me, drawing nearer as I continued my journey into the castle. We spoke not a word in the dread silence.
I came to a stop before the grand staircase as my eyes adjusted to the surrounding gloom. My gaze drifted upward and, to my shock, I spied Dracula materialize out of thin air. At first it was as if a shadow stretched from the wall, mercurial and elastic. As the shape of the Count formed—complete with cape and collar—my last meal threatened to rise from my gut for a curtain call.
“I’ve been expecting you,” the Count’s smooth voice rang out.
In the blink of an eye, Count Dracula stood before me. The man—if he could be called such a thing—was no longer bothering with disguising his infernal powers from sight.
Dracula turned to Van Helsing. “You. Do I recognize your face?”
“Abraham—”
“Van Helsing,” Dracula interrupted. “Yes. I remember. You’ve published pieces about me, most of which contain false accusation, couched in the scientific equivalency of a child’s nursery rhyme. You are an amateur, at best. Even so, I am flattered you took the time to research me and my family tree. I will say, however, you missed a number of specifics and poorly drew a few conclusions. Regardless,” Dracula held out his hand to Van Helsing, “thank you for your effort.”
Van Helsing hesitated to accept the proffered gesture. When he did, the Count gave his arm a convivial shake.
The Count then turned to Renfield. “You, on the other hand, I do not know.” He stuck his hand out to Mr. Renfield. “I am Count Dracula. And you are?”
“Mr. Renfield. I have no first name. Mother didn’t have the inclination or the mental capacity to bother with such trivialities. You may call me—”
“Renfield,” the Count drew out the name, the sound of his voice hypnotic.
Dracula returned his focus to me. “What business has brought you back to this village, Mr. Harker?”
“I’ve come—”
“Don’t tell me,” Dracula stopped me short, his hand in the air. “You’re here about Mina. She’s dying, and you believe I am her only hope.”
“How did you know that?” Van Helsing asked.
“Lucky guess.”
“No such thing as luck, Count,” Van Helsing shot Dracula down. “And you know that. So tell us the truth. How did you know why we were here?”
A charming smile broke the plane of Dracula’s mouth. “Let’s call it intuition, shall we? Or maybe it was simply the letter that first brought Mr. Harker to my home. I can recite it from memory if you’d like.”
Van Helsing stepped forward. “We’ll cut to the chase.”
“Oh joy. I like a man of action,” Dracula’s voice was filled with a venomous sarcasm.
“We need you to return to England with us to save this man’s fiancée.”
“I’ll answer you in the same fashion I did Mr. Harker. I cannot leave this village. The townsfolk depend upon my presence. Without me here, I cannot predict how they would respond.”
“Well, you see, that’s not my problem,” I snapped.
“It would be. Unlike any problem you’ve ever experienced.”
Van Helsing inserted himself back into the conversation. “I would advise you agree to our proposal.”
I couldn’t be certain if it was a trick of the light, but Dracula grew at least six inches to tower over Van Helsing.
“I do not take kindly to threats, Mr. Van Helsing.” There was a menacing hiss undercutting the Count’s voice.
The angry howl of a wolf filled the castle. Dracula smiled, his eyes growing wide with a childish glee.
“My pet has returned to defend its master. Isn’t it remarkable how we are capable of navigating the landscape of your lives with such ease? From human, to bat, to wolf. Can nothing prevent us from reaching you?”
Step by step, the wolf descended the staircase. The snout of the animal was caked in a pinkish crust, clearly indicating the beast was Alexandru.
“Come to me, my friend.” Dracula’s voice was sugar sweet. The wolf made its way to the Count’s side and sat, baring its fangs for all to see. “Now, what were you saying?”
Before a single syllable could be spoken, Van Helsing swept back his coat and produced a hand crossbow, already loaded and cocked. With the aim of a professional archer, Abraham sent an arrow, to the fletching, into the wolf’s skull. The creature dropped without so much as a whimper.
Dracula growled a sound I hoped to never hear again. “How dare you take that beautiful creature from me.” The Count made to attack, but Van Helsing was prepared. A silver bolo swept from under his jacket, spun in the air, and wrapped itself around Dracula’s throat. The Count fell to his knees, desperately clutching at the metal cord burning his flesh.
“Quickly! Retrieve the crate,” Van Helsing demanded.
“We can’t carry that blasted thing by ourselves.” Renfield complained.
“You’re going to have to,” Abraham barked.
I grabbed Mr. Renfield by the arm and dragged him to the carriage. With great effort, we hauled the trunk into the castle.
“Open it,” Van Helsing shouted.
Once the trunk was opened, Van Helsing rolled Dracula to the case and instructed both Renfield and me to assist him loading Dracula into the finely crafted vessel. With the Count tucked inside, Van Helsing closed the lid and strapped it shut with silver chains and the heaviest locks I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Success, my friends. I have to confess, that was exponentially easier than I thought it would have been. Regardless, the vampire has been captured,” Van Helsing exclaimed. “Now all we have to do is transport this cargo back to England.”
*****
No matter how powerful exhaustion’s embrace was, we’d no choice but to bypass the village and head straight to the train. Even with Van Helsing’s assurance the trunk would keep Dracula trapped within, there was no reason to leave anything to chance. We had managed, by some fit of luck, to lock the vampire away once. Should the beast escape, that particular bolt of lightning wouldn’t strike a second time.
Fortunately, the dock attendant didn’t question the contents—or the extra heft—of our peculiar luggage. To my shock, there was no sound emanating from the case. This, of course, gave me great pause to be concerned. Had we killed Dracula? If so, what good would his foul blood be to Mina? This dangerous trip could have been all for naught, due to the heavy-handed arrogance of Abraham Van Helsing.
“I promise you, that vampire is still alive.” Van Helsing’s whisper was rough and his breath smelled of alcohol. I couldn’t help but wonder how he knew precisely what I was thinking. “Your face is riddled with concern. Trust me, Mr. Harker, it would take considerably more than a box lined with silver to end the life of one such as Count Dracula. The man is simply, and quite temporarily, immobile.”
“Just how temporary, may I ask, is temporary?” Mr. Renfield leaned toward Abraham, his elbows on his knees. With the speed of a cobra, the man’s arm shot out before him to snatch something from the air. Renfield then slapped his hand to his mouth and swallowed. “Flies. Their bitter taste brings me joy.”
“Until you swallow one carrying the plague. There’ll be no such joy found in that.” Abraham laughed at Renfield’s bulging eyes. “I’m only joking. Eat as many of the pests as you like. As far as the time frame on Dracula’s paralysis? Until that case opens, he’s incapable of so much as a scratch of the nose.”
Out of nowhere, I was stricken with a bout of the vapors. My lungs gasped for air, but failed in their task.
Van Helsing leaned forward and patted my leg. “My good man, what’s come over you?”
“What if the trunk is prematurely opened? Maybe by a curious passenger or the Count himself? Could that happen?”
“Not a chance. It’s locked and strapped tight. And, before you think it, there is no means to open the device from within. We’re safe, Jonathan. Completely and absolutely.”
“The phrase ‘never say never’ comes to mind.”
Renfield stood. “Maybe I should go back to the storage area and stand guard?”
“That is not recommended and very unnecessary,” Van Helsing answered and followed up by tipping his flask to his lips.
I chimed in. “I agree with Mr. Renfield. It couldn’t hurt to have a pair of eyes on the trunk the entire trip.”
