by Dr Ruwan M Jayatunge
30th December
Several
officers from the Metropolitan Police Force's Lambeth Division visited me to
inform me about the discovery of Bernard's lifeless body in Gipsy Hill. They
indicated that through his employer, J.G. Littlechild & Co, they were aware
of his assignment linked to me. The police suspect foul play, believing he was
murdered by strangulation.
I
informed them that Bernard had traveled to Gipsy Hill to meet Diverus, who had
placed a substantial order for wool from Verna. However, I refrained from
mentioning Count Dracula or any related incidents. When questioned about my
interest in the cargo of the ship Beelzebub, I fabricated a story, claiming
that a missing Russian nobleman aboard the vessel was an acquaintance of mine,
whom I had met during my travels in Eastern Europe. Upon seeing his name in the
newspapers among the missing passengers, I felt compelled to investigate and
subsequently hired a private detective. I believe the police accepted my
explanation, and I urged them to locate Diverus, as Bernard was en route to
meet him. The officers assured me that a team would be dispatched to Gipsy Hill
to search for Diverus.
After
the police left, I was plunged into a profound despair, prompting me to consume
a glass of brandy in an attempt to soothe my frayed nerves. The shocking and
horrific murder of Bernard left me grappling with questions: who could have
committed such a crime? Was Diverus responsible for Bernard's death, and if so,
what could have motivated such an act? Could it be that Bernard had uncovered
compelling evidence related to Count Dracula? My greatest apprehension was the
possibility that Dracula himself had orchestrated Bernard's murder. In response
to these disturbing revelations, I swiftly penned letters to Dr. Seward and
Professor Van Helsing to apprise them of the unfolding situation.
I
have long desired a life characterized by peace, free from stress and fear.
However, my dreams were abruptly interrupted by a challenging assignment from
the law firm, which initiated a chaotic journey. The moment I set out for the Carpathian
Mountains to meet Count Dracula and finalize the transactions, my life took a
drastic turn. I encountered a malevolent creature, and his influence scarred my life. Meeting Dracula marked the beginning of a profound misery that shattered
the tranquillity I once enjoyed. The expectation that vanquishing Dracula would
restore the tranquility we desired has proven misguided, as it appears that the
curse associated with him continues to pursue us relentlessly.
1st January
As
the New Year began on January 1st, Mina and Quincy looked forward to the
festivities, while I was consumed by a profound sense of fear and unease
stemming from the news of Bernard's death. This tragic event loomed over me,
creating an unsettling feeling that something malevolent was tracking us.
Although I tried to mask my anxiety from Mina, she perceptively noticed my
distress, leading me to concoct a story about feeling unwell. During our
discussion, she brought up the ship Beelzebub, which she had encountered in the
newspapers, and its mysterious connection to the ill-fated Demeter. Mina
recounted her vacation in Whitby, where she and Lucy witnessed the Demeter
being violently thrown ashore, culminating in the horrifying sight of the captain's
corpse, his hands bound to the wheel and clutching a crucifix, a grim symbol of
his desperate struggle against the storm. Disturbingly, the ship was completely
crewless, with all aboard having vanished without a trace during the journey.
Mina
continued to share that as the unnatural storm lashed the Demeter, Lucy grew
increasingly restless, prompting Mina to secure their bedroom door to keep her
calm. Mr. Swales, an elderly local who had formed a friendship with Mina and
Lucy, observed the ship's erratic movements, noting that it appeared to be
sailing without a helmsman. Tragically, Mr. Swales was later found dead on the
very bench where he had spent time with the girls, his neck broken and his face
frozen in terror. I suspect he fell prey to Dracula on the night of August 10,
just two days after the Demeter's arrival, marking him as the first of
Dracula's victims on English soil.
The
fate of the captain of the Demeter evokes a profound sense of dread in me. He
grappled with the knowledge of Dracula's presence aboard and witnessed the
gradual demise of his crew. Clutching a crucifix in a desperate plea for divine
protection, he ultimately succumbed to the overwhelming terror and chaos that
doomed the ship, found lifeless at the helm upon its wreckage on the Whitby
shore. This tragic narrative prompts speculation about the crew of the
Beelzebub, who may have faced a similarly grim fate at the hands of Dracula,
who, unlike the captain, lacked the fortitude to navigate through the horrors
that beset them. As I reflect on these terrible events, a growing sense of
fear compels me to seek solace in frequent brandy consumption, hoping to quiet
my troubled mind and find rest. Meanwhile, I await news from the police
regarding the Gipsy horse dealer, pondering his potential connection to Dracula
and whether he serves as a human accomplice.
My
time spent in Dracula's castle revealed the presence of Slovaks and Szgany labouring
with sand, assisting in the transport of his native soil to England, while I
remained trapped and powerless, their mocking laughter echoing in my ears. This
leads me to question whether Diverus is affiliated with these groups that seem
devoted to the count.
The
apprehension of Diverus by the police could yield significant information
regarding the murder of my private investigator, Bernard. It remains uncertain
whether Bernard was killed by Diverus during a confrontation concerning the
ship's cargo. However, if the police interrogate Diverus, many answers will
likely emerge.
3rd January
A
group of police officers from the Metropolitan police approached me to report
their visit to Gipsy Hill in search of Diverus. They said that he has been
missing for several days, with even his family unaware of his location. I
shared my suspicion that Diverus might be the murderer, potentially driven by
rage to kill Bernard. However, the inspector cautioned against jumping to
conclusions, emphasizing the need for a thorough investigation. Consequently,
they have initiated a nationwide surveillance effort to locate Diverus, with
all stations alerted. Detectives are actively exploring various Gipsy
neighborhoods in their search, and the inspector assured me that it would only
be a matter of days before they apprehend him. It is my sincere hope that they can
locate him and uncover the truth.
6th January
The
metropolitan police have informed me of the discovery of Diverus's body in a
secluded cemetery located in West Dulwich. Following a post-mortem examination
conducted this morning, the coroner reported an absence of blood in Diverus's
body, with no significant injuries or damage to any arteries detected. A
thorough search of the cemetery yielded no traces of blood in the surrounding
area, leaving both the police and the coroner perplexed regarding the circumstances
of the blood loss. This raises several questions: who could have killed
Diverus, and what motives might they have had? Furthermore, how could the
perpetrator have drained his blood without leaving any visible evidence?
Speculation arises about the involvement of a figure like Dracula; if so, what
could have driven him to eliminate Diverus? Was the intent to keep his arrival
in England concealed, and what implications would that have had for his plans?
Upon
receiving the news of Diverus's demise, my trepidation grew significantly,
compelling me to take immediate action. I promptly communicated my concerns to
Mina, followed by Dr. Seward and Professor Van Helsing, ensuring that they were
aware of the gravity of the situation. In light of the escalating threat, I
adopted stringent measures to safeguard our home, resolutely deciding to
refrain from venturing outside after dusk. I meticulously affixed crucifixes to
every entry point, including doors and windows, as a form of spiritual defense.
Additionally, I procured the Sacred Host, utilizing the communion wafers to
seal the gaps in our doors, thereby enhancing our protective barriers. Holy
Water became a staple in my routine, as I diligently sprinkled it across the
windowsills both morning and night. To further fortify our sanctuary, I
enlisted the services of a priest from St. Marylebone Parish Church to bless
our residence, a ritual we continued every Sunday. We established a Home Altar
adorned with blessed candles, creating a focal point for our spiritual
vigilance.
Mina
and I found ourselves reverting to a state of heightened tension, taking every
conceivable precaution to prevent Dracula from infiltrating our home. While I
harbored doubts about his resurrection and return to England, the unsettling
events of recent days left me with an undeniable sense of foreboding.
Consequently, I urged Dr. Seward to seek spiritual protection, recognizing the
necessity of fortifying our defences against the encroaching darkness.
26th January
I
was deeply shocked to learn of Arthur Holmwood's death, as reported in the
Palmall Gazette, which stated that he had suffered a heart attack while
visiting Kingstead Churchyard in North-West London. This site resonated with
me, being the burial ground of Lucy Westenra's family.
Arthur
was a remarkable man who was profoundly affected when Lucy fell gravely ill due
to Dracula's predations. He selflessly participated in a blood transfusion led
by Abraham Van Helsing, unknowingly giving his own blood to save his beloved
fiancée. After Lucy's tragic death, Arthur struggled to accept her
transformation into a vampire, but his disbelief was shattered upon
encountering her in her vampiric form, which forced him to confront the grim
reality of her fate. Initially horrified and furious at the thought of
disturbing Lucy's remains, Arthur's perspective shifted when he recognized that
the creature before him was not the Lucy he cherished, but a malevolent being.
Van Helsing entrusted him with the agonizing responsibility of driving a stake
through her heart, a task he undertook amidst immense emotional distress.
Additionally,
Arthur was instrumental in the pursuit of Dracula. When the vampire fled
England by sea, the hunters knew he was on a ship but lacked specific details.
Arthur utilized his high-society connections, leveraging his influence with the
chairmen and underwriters at Lloyd’s of London to facilitate swift
communication. This strategic action enabled immediate telegrams to be sent to
every European port, effectively transforming the geopolitical landscape into a
vast dragnet that forced Dracula to abandon his refuge and engage in a
desperate race against time.
In
the pivotal pursuit back to Transylvania, Arthur collaborated with us, playing
a crucial role in cornering the Szgany wagon that transported Dracula's last
box of earth just outside Castle Dracula. His tactical support was instrumental
in enabling us to eliminate the Count once and for all.
Arthur
Holmwood emerged victorious from the final confrontation with the Count's
Szgany guards, subsequently leading a life filled with happiness and tranquillity.
He held Lucy dear in his heart, often making visits to her grave at
Kingstead Churchyard in North-West London. The circumstances surrounding his
heart attack during one of these visits remain unclear. I have determined to
accompany Dr. Seward to visit his family tomorrow.
27th January
I
accompanied Dr. Seward to the funeral of our esteemed friend, Arthur Holmwood,
where we encountered several individuals who recounted the unsettling events
that transpired at the cemetery. It became evident that on that tragic evening,
Arthur had ventured to Kingstead Churchyard in North-West London, presumably to
pay his respects at Lucy's tomb. They described that he lingered by the grave
until dusk, after which he attempted to return to his wagon but collapsed near
Lucy's resting place, succumbing to unconsciousness. When the wagon driver
noticed Arthur's prolonged absence, he ventured into the cemetery only to
discover him sprawled on the ground, his visage contorted in terror, as if he
had encountered something profoundly horrifying. His eyes were wide with fear,
and his mouth was agape, as if he had been attempting to scream in sheer panic.
Tragically, it was at that moment that he suffered a heart attack, and by the
time his coachman and aides reached him, Arthur had already passed away.
This
harrowing account filled both Dr. Seward and me with a sense of dread, leading
us to speculate about the nature of the terror that had befallen Arthur at
Lucy's tomb. I found myself grappling with an overwhelming sense of fear,
convinced that whatever had terrified Arthur was now tracking us. During the
funeral, I made concerted efforts to mask my anxiety, even extending my
condolences to Lady Godalming.
Dr.
Seward expressed a desire to visit Lucy's grave for further investigation, but
I was gripped by fear and adamantly declined. He then proposed to go alone, but
I implored him not to venture into the graveyard, emphasizing the uncertainty
of what might be lurking there, especially as dusk approached, making it an
exceedingly perilous undertaking. After bidding a final farewell to our dear
friend Arthur, I returned home while Dr. Seward proceeded to the hospital. Once
at home, I took it upon myself to write a letter to Professor Van Helsing,
detailing Arthur's death and the peculiar information we had gathered regarding
the circumstances surrounding his untimely demise.
3rd February
Following
the demise of Arthur Holmwood, a profound sense of dread and anxiety shrouded
me, casting a shadow over my thoughts and actions. Mina, too, was deeply
affected by his passing, particularly in light of the dreadful events that
transpired near Lucy's family tomb. In an effort to shield ourselves from any
lingering malevolence, we took every precaution, ensuring that all doors and
windows were securely locked before the sun dipped below the horizon. We
utilized holy water and various forms of spiritual protection to ward off
malevolent forces.
Mina's
mental state deteriorated, leaving her visibly distressed and unbalanced, while
I resorted to consuming copious amounts of brandy in a futile attempt to quell
my own fears. As dusk approached, an overwhelming sense of terror gripped me,
reminiscent of the apprehension I felt during my time at Count Dracula's
castle, when the sun vanished behind the imposing Carpathian Mountains. This
persistent unease kept me on high alert, with every unusual sound in the night
causing me to flinch and react with heightened anxiety. In a desperate bid to
escape my fears, I sought solace in intoxication, hoping to find some semblance
of rest. However, Mina expressed her concern regarding my increasing reliance
on alcohol over the past few months. With the arrival of morning, a wave of
relief washed over me as I welcomed the dawn, yet as evening once again
approached, my anxiety surged anew. It became painfully clear that we were
ensnared in a cycle of suffering and fear, with no apparent hope for salvation
on the horizon.
13th February
This
morning, I was abruptly awakened by the startling news of a heinous crime that
had taken place at Dr. Seward's hospital in Purfleet-On-Thames, Essex. It was
reported that a perpetrator had entered the facility and brutally murdered Dr.
Seward at the stroke of midnight. After attending to his patients, he had
settled down for a brief rest on the couch in his office, unaware of the
impending danger.
Upon
receiving the distressing information, I hurried to the hospital, where I found
a gathering of staff members and police officers congregated near his office.
After introducing myself to the chief inspector, I was granted access to the
scene, and the sight that met my eyes was nothing short of horrifying. Dr.
Seward lay lifeless on the couch, his eyes wide open, reflecting an expression
of sheer terror, with a gold dagger—previously taken from Dracula's
castle—embedded in his heart.
Questions
raced through my mind: who could have committed such a vile act, and what could
have driven them to do so? I recalled that Dr. Seward had brought back gold
coins from Dracula's castle, which I knew were stored in a wooden box beneath
the couch; upon inspection, I found the box untouched, leading me to conclude
that robbery was not the motive behind this gruesome murder.
The
dagger, however, was kept in a secret compartment within his writing desk,
indicating that the assailant possessed intimate knowledge of the hospital's
layout and Dr. Seward's personal belongings.
The
hospital staff reported no unusual occurrences, stating that Dr. Seward had
been seeing patients until approximately 11:30 PM before retiring to his office
for a brief respite. The facility's doors were securely locked, and several
guards were stationed at the entrance, making it nearly impossible for an
intruder to gain access. Furthermore, all patients with a history of violent
behavior were confined to their rooms, under constant surveillance by the
orderlies. At midnight, a chilling scream pierced the silence, prompting some
staff members to rush to Dr. Seward's office, only to find the door locked.
They were forced to break it down, revealing the horrifying scene of Dr.
Seward's lifeless body, the dagger still protruding from his heart.
The
investigation into the murder of Dr. Seward left even the police baffled, as
they struggled to piece together the circumstances surrounding his untimely
demise. Dr. Seward was a figure of great esteem within the community,
possessing neither enemies nor rivals, which made the crime all the more
perplexing. The chief inspector noted the absence of any evidence suggesting a
break-in at either the hospital or Dr. Seward's office, leading to the
unsettling conclusion that the assailant had managed to infiltrate the premises
without leaving a trace.
The
killer, shrouded in mystery, appeared to materialize from thin air, striking
with lethal precision as he plunged a dagger into Dr. Seward's heart. In his
final moments, Dr. Seward's expression was one of sheer terror, indicating that
he had recognized his attacker.
This
revelation prompted a chilling thought: could it be Count Dracula, who was previously
known to have invaded the office with the assistance of Renfield while Mina was
resting? The implication that Dracula had returned, resurrected and intent on
hunting us down one by one, filled me with dread. Overwhelmed by fear, I could
no longer remain in that place and hurried home to pen a letter to Dr. Van
Helsing, detailing the grave situation surrounding Dr. Seward's death.
I
could not conceal my anxiety from Mina; upon learning of Dr. Seward's tragic
fate, she grasped the gravity of our predicament, whispering in despair that “we
are all going to die” and that death was now an inevitable fate awaiting us
all.
15th February
In
the midst of profound grief, we gathered to bid farewell to our great friend,
Dr. John Seward, whose presence had been a source of strength, support, and
wisdom for us all. His absence leaves a void that is difficult to comprehend,
as he was not only a colleague but also a steadfast ally and protector.
Mina,
clad in mourning attire, appeared deeply affected by the loss, her expression
reflecting a blend of sorrow and anxiety. As the sun began to set, casting a sombre
glow over the proceedings, Mina and I made our way home, departing from the
funeral before it concluded. This decision felt odd, yet the overwhelming
weight of my apprehension overshadowed my adherence to traditional funeral
customs, leaving me in a state of disarray as I grappled with the reality of
our friend’s passing.
Upon
returning home, I found myself unable to resist the allure of alcohol, leading
me to indulge in Premium Irish Pot Still Whiskey. I consumed several glasses that
served as a temporary balm for my overwhelming sadness and fear. I desired to
escape into a deep, undisturbed slumber, free from the haunting memories and
anxieties that threatened to resurface in the stillness of the night. The
thought of confronting any distressing events during the midnight hours was
unbearable, prompting me to seek solace in the comforting embrace of the whiskey,
hoping it would lull me into a peaceful sleep.
25th February
For
almost ten consecutive days, I remained confined within the four walls of my
home, seeking solace in the depths of whiskey as a means to mask my
overwhelming fears. Despite Mina's persistent expressions of concern, I grew
increasingly resolute in my isolation, allowing my thoughts to spiral into
disarray. My eating habits became erratic, and I neglected personal grooming,
ignoring the letters that arrived and declining to meet with my clients. The
majority of my time was spent in a state of restless slumber, with a Bible
tucked beneath my pillow and a gold cross hanging around my neck, symbols of my
desperate search for protection. Mina's repeated suggestions for a shave and a
hot bath fell on deaf ears, as I stubbornly resisted any attempts to restore
normalcy. It felt as though I was teetering on the brink of madness.
One
afternoon, while I lay on my bed lost in contemplation, our footman entered to
announce the arrival of a gentleman from Amsterdam, presenting his card. Upon
glancing at the card, a surge of surprise and joy coursed through me; it was
none other than Professor Abram Van Helsing. Instantly invigorated by the
prospect of his visit, I hastily took a shower, donned my evening attire, and
made my way to the visitor's room, eager to reconnect with the esteemed
professor.
Upon
embracing our long-time friend, an overwhelming wave of emotion surged through
me, leading to an uncontrollable outpouring of tears. In a choked voice, I
whispered, “Professor, Arthur, and John have gone; I might be the next victim”
Sensing
my distress, Professor Van Helsing held me tight and said, “Jonathan, gather
your courage; we are going to fight back like the last time. We are going to
destroy him if he is resurrected. Perhaps our fears are baseless; still, we
don't have credible evidence to prove that Dracula has resurrected. Perhaps
Arthur had a great sadness remembering Lucy, and then he had a heart attack.
Dr. Seward was killed by some smart intruder or one of his patients, even a staff member; who knows? I am here to investigate all
these mysteries. My dear Jonathan, come back to your senses; I need your
support and assistance.
After
hearing Professor Van Helsing’s words gradually, my anxiety began to dissipate,
bolstered by a newfound sense of resolve. I sipped a hot glass of coffee, its
warmth serving to cleanse my system of the lingering effects of alcohol, and I
felt a flicker of determination igniting within me.
I
urged Professor Van Helsing to spend the night at our residence, prompting me
to instruct our Chef to prepare an elaborate dinner in his honor. Mina, too,
was filled with joy and anticipation at the prospect of seeing Professor Van
Helsing, a man who had been a source of invaluable assistance to us on numerous
occasions. His presence had a remarkable effect on us; the weight of our fears
and anxieties seemed to lift, akin to the gradual dissipation of a dense fog.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, we found ourselves free from
the burdens of stress and worry. Even Quincy, who had been somewhat reserved,
sensed the uplifting atmosphere and decided to join us at the dinner table.
During the meal, we consciously avoided any discussions that might remind us of
our previous traumas, opting instead for light-hearted conversation. At one
point, Professor Van Helsing remarked on the passage of time, sharing that he
was beginning to feel the effects of aging and the ailments that often
accompany it.
The
evening unfolded with a delightful atmosphere, as Mina took the initiative to
prepare the guest room for the Professor's overnight stay, ensuring that every
detail was attended to with care. As the night progressed, we indulged in a
warm blend of coffee and wine, engaging in lively conversation that flowed
effortlessly until the clock struck midnight, all while basking in the
comforting glow of the fireplace.
This
convivial setting allowed me to feel a sense of ease that had eluded me for
quite some time, leaving my mind refreshingly unburdened. After bidding the
Professor a cordial good night, I retired to my own room, carrying with me the
lightness of spirit that had characterized our gathering.
26th February
The
morning was bright and cheerful, setting a positive tone for the day. During
breakfast with Professor Van Helsing, I expressed my desire for him to remain
with us, but he graciously declined, citing the need for solitude to focus on
his investigations. He was determined to unravel the peculiar occurrences
linked to the ship Beelzebub, including the mysterious deaths of private
detective Bernard and horse trader Diverus from Gipsy Hill, as well as the
untimely demise of Arthur and the murder of Dr. Seward. Professor Van Helsing
emphasized the importance of discerning whether these incidents were
interconnected by a malevolent force or merely isolated events. He articulated
the urgency of determining if Count Dracula had returned, warning that if he
had, we would face significant peril and must take decisive action to eliminate
the threat. I wholeheartedly concurred with the professor's assessment,
recognizing the gravity of our situation and the necessity for courage in
confronting this formidable adversary.
I
promptly booked a room for Professor Van Helsing at the newly established
Landmark London "Grande Dame" hotel, conveniently located near my
residence. Concerned for his safety, I reached out to Pinkerton’s London Office
and arranged for two armed security agents to ensure the professor's protection.
These physically strong individuals committed to providing security during both
day and night shifts. In the evening, I organized for Professor Van Helsing to
be transported under the watchful eye of a private bodyguard, planning to visit
him the following morning.
27th February
Early
in the morning, I arrived at the Landmark London hotel to meet with Professor
Van Helsing regarding our future plans. Upon my arrival, I noticed a commotion
and an unusually high presence of police officers. I intended to proceed to the
seventh floor, where the professor occupied a corner room, but was halted by
the police, who informed me that a murder had taken place and the area was
cordoned off. I identified myself and expressed my concern for my friend's
safety, but the officers reiterated that access to the seventh floor was
prohibited until the chief inspector and detectives arrived. A wave of fear and
apprehension surged through me, akin to a bolt of lightning. The police offered
no details about the victim, heightening my anxiety for the professor's
well-being. I found myself praying and anxiously awaiting the chief inspector's
arrival.
Upon
the chief police officer's arrival at the hotel, I approached him, presented my
card, and expressed my concerns. He received me with appropriate respect and
kindly requested that I remain on the ground floor while he ascended to the
seventh floor accompanied by two constables. I waited anxiously for his return,
and after an hour, he came back downstairs, took my hand, and we settled into a
lounge area. The Chief Inspector began by inquiring about the Professor and the
bodyguard I had engaged from Pinkerton’s London Office. As I responded to his
questions, my impatience grew, prompting me to ask about the Professor's
safety. After a significant pause, the inspector addressed me with a tone of
empathy.
“Dear Sir, Last night, somebody entered
Professor Van Helsing's room without arousing any suspicion. After entering his
room, the killer first dealt with the bodyguard. With a single sharp blow, he
broke the bodyguard's neck. Being such a strong person, he could not withstand the
attacker’s fatal blow. He died immediately. Then the killer approached
Professor Van Helsing and smashed his head against the wall. The crime scene
indicates that these two murders occurred within split seconds. I cannot fathom
a killer who has such physical strength to attack with unimaginable vigour. My
dear sir, your friend and the bodyguard are dead. I advise you not to visit the
room; it's so horrible to see the deaths of these two men. This is my
thirty-second year in the force, and I have seen countless murders, even the
victims of Jack the Ripper. But this killing scene shattered me and my nerves.
Therefore, I advise you to go back to your house, and we will contact you with
further information. We will do our utmost to catch the killer and bring him to
justice.”
Upon
learning of Professor Van Helsing's death, I lost consciousness, unable to
regain my composure. It felt as though a malevolent force had consumed all my
cherished friends, leaving only Mina and me as the remaining victims. The urge
to flee overwhelmed me, yet I found no sanctuary from this creature. My
thoughts turned to returning home to protect Mina.
The
chief police officer, recognizing my distress, assigned a constable to ensure
my safe passage home. The journey was a blur in my memory, and upon arrival, I
was struck by a sense of numbness, my appearance reflecting my inner turmoil.
Mina, perceiving my distress, immediately sensed that something dreadful had
occurred. Unable to articulate my feelings, I collapsed onto a couch. In my
anguish, Mina conversed with the constable and learned of Professor Van
Helsing's tragic fate. Demonstrating remarkable strength, she absorbed the
devastating news with a blend of sorrow and courage.
I
found myself in a state of mental paralysis, unable to formulate any plans
moving forward. The arrangements for Professor Van Helsing's funeral weighed
heavily on my mind, as I grappled with the decision of whether to conduct the
last rites in England or to transport his remains to Amsterdam. My thoughts
were clouded, leaving me ill-equipped to make any decisions. Most importantly,
my focus was consumed by concerns for our safety and the urgent need to escape
the grasp of this terrifying force.
Somehow,
I gathered emotional strength and wrote a letter to my lawyer friend, Sir
Edward Carson, seeking his assistance in managing the final arrangements for
Professor Van Helsing. I find myself on the brink of a nervous breakdown,
rendering me unable to cope with the situation any longer. In an attempt to
alleviate my anxiety, I resorted to self-medication, consuming whiskey
alongside a sedative, Paraldehyde, mixed with cold milk.
28th February
Sir
Edward Carson coordinated all the necessary arrangements for the transportation
of Professor Van Helsing's remains to his family in Amsterdam, ensuring that
the body was placed in a sealed coffin for the journey. At the time, I found
myself in a state of semi-intoxication, which significantly impaired my
awareness of my surroundings and the events unfolding around me. Earlier that
afternoon, the police had come to visit, but upon observing my lethargic
condition, they decided to leave, informing Mina that they would return to
speak with me on another occasion.
2nd March
I
awoke in the morning feeling sober, having abstained from whiskey the previous
night, which allowed for clearer thinking despite a severe headache that
prompted me to take Antipyrine powder.
After
a light breakfast, I considered consulting a doctor, and upon Mina's
recommendation, I decided to reach out to Dr. Jonathan Hutchinson. While I was
preparing to send him a message, our butler informed me of a package that had
arrived. Upon inspection, I found a large object meticulously wrapped in thick
black canvas and shroud velvet, delivered by a horse-drawn carriage. With the
butler's help, I opened the package to discover a coffin made of Honduras
Mahogany, elegantly finished with a high-gloss French polish, dispatched by
Leverton & Sons undertakers. At first,
I thought there had been an error, but the coachman handed me a sealed letter
inscribed in black ink.
Mina
Flesh of my flesh. Do not fear the
night, nor the change it brings. The blood that binds us now is not a curse,
but a covenant. You are already mine, whispering to me across the silence of
the London fog. We shall meet again when the moon is high, and the wolves sing
in the valleys of my homeland. Until that hour, I remain, as I must ever be.
D
Upon
examining the letter, I recognized the handwriting instantly; it was from
Dracula. My initial correspondence with him occurred over seven years ago,
coinciding with my arrival at the Golden Krone Hotel in Bistritz, Transylvania.
The elderly landlord of the hotel presented the letter to me as soon as I
checked in, and the contents have remained etched in my memory ever since.
My friend
Welcome to the Carpathians. I am
anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence
will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my
carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey
from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my
beautiful land.
Your friend, DRACULA
Upon waking late on my inaugural morning at Castle
Dracula, I discovered a courteous handwritten note placed on the dining table.
It read, "I must be absent for a while. Do not wait for me. — D."
Receiving a handwritten
letter from Count Dracula, I recognized his distinctive handwriting and style,
leading me to conclude that the correspondence I received from the coachman was
indeed authored by him.
Upon further inquiry with
an assistant at Leverton & Sons undertakers, I learned that a peculiar man
had visited the previous night, purchasing an expensive coffin and requesting
its delivery to my address. When I sought a description of this enigmatic
figure, the assistant described him as having a fierce, hawk-like appearance,
characterized by a high, thin, hooked nose and unusually arched nostrils, complemented
by a lofty, massive forehead. His eyebrows were notably thick, nearly
converging above his nose, and his bushy hair curled outward. The man’s teeth
were strikingly white and sharp, while his lips exhibited a vibrant, unnatural
red hue that starkly contrasted with his pale skin. His ears were notably
pointed at the tops, and he was dressed like a nobleman. After completing his
transaction, he simply vanished into the mist, leaving no sound of a departing
cart behind.
I have come to the unsettling
conclusion that Dracula has resurrected and is now in England, systematically
eliminating our team members. I fear I may be his next target, as he seems
intent on making Mina his bride, just as he did with Lucy.
In a moment of panic, I
inadvertently dropped the letter. I was afraid and feared handling any paper
that had already been touched by Dracula, given the unholy nature of his hands.
The message from Dracula left me utterly speechless and filled with terror. The
gravity of Mina's peril weighed heavily on me, prompting me to pay for the
coffin's return to the undertakers. I chose not to reveal the letter to Mina
and instructed the butler to dispose of it in the fireplace. It became
painfully clear that I am in a dire predicament, with all my trusted friends,
who might have offered valuable counsel, having fallen victim to Dracula's
malevolence.
I felt an urgent need to
flee London with Mina and our son, but the question of our destination loomed
large. My thoughts turned to a sacred site, one where Dracula's influence could
not reach, and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Palestine came to mind.
However, the prospect of boarding a ship filled me with dread, as I feared
Dracula might infiltrate the vessel, wreaking havoc among the passengers and crew
through chaos and confusion.
As I contemplated our
escape options, I recalled Mina's distant relative, James Murray, residing in
Scotland. Driven by fear and a survival instinct, I resolved to head to Fort
Augustus Abbey, also known as St. Benedict’s Abbey, a consecrated ground in
Scotland where we would be safe from Dracula's grasp. Time was of the essence,
and I knew I had to make arrangements without delay.
I approached Mina, embraced
her closely, and whispered in her ear. “ "Mina,
I can bear the weight of these secrets no longer; I will hide nothing from you.
Count Dracula has resurrected, and a terrible, suffocating danger looms over us
all. I implore you, my love, summon your deepest strength and stand with me as
my most formidable ally. We are utterly alone now; our trusted circle is no
more, leaving only the two of us to confront this monstrous shadow. I
dare not speak our strategy aloud, for the Count possesses insidious, unseen
ways of listening to our choices. The blueprint for our salvation remains
locked safely within my own mind. You must trust me implicitly—act as I command
and move as I request, without question or delay. I beg of you, Mina, do not
obstruct me now."
Mina
recognized the urgency of our predicament and consented to accompany me without
hesitation regarding my choices. I organized our forthcoming actions and
composed letters to several friends, requesting their assistance in overseeing
our mansion and other assets during our absence. However, I refrained from
disclosing my intentions or destination. I toiled until midnight, while Mina
immersed herself in spiritual practices, anointing the house with holy water.
3rd March
I
rose early in the morning and arranged for a horse-drawn cart to transport
Mina, Quincy, and myself to King's Cross Station in London at precisely 10:00
AM. I had secured a First-Class Compartment for our journey to Glasgow,
ensuring that we packed only the essentials. Before we departed from London, I
entrusted Sir Edward Carson with full legal authority to manage our mansion,
staff, and other assets, informing him that we were embarking on a pilgrimage
for an indefinite duration. His reliability alleviated any concerns I had about
the property we were leaving behind.
Throughout
the train journey, our conversation remained light and focused on trivial
matters rather than our future plans. Quincey expressed enthusiasm for the
lengthy train ride. As the train thundered past the lush green fields of
Northamptonshire, sped through Rugby, and raced across the industrial
landscapes of Lancashire, we ventured deeper into the Highlands. We arrived in Glasgow around seven in the evening, after which we took a carriage to
Kelvingrove Park, the location of James Murray's residence.
James
Murray and his wife welcomed us with great joy, and Mina's reunion with her
after many years was particularly heartwarming. His young children quickly
formed a bond with Quincey, leading to a pleasant dinner together. I chose not
to disclose our ongoing challenges to James, as I preferred not to extend our
stay at his home. To his astonishment, we rose early the next morning and set
off for Fort Augustus Abbey, also known as St. Benedict’s Abbey. This
destination, nestled deep within the rugged Scottish Highlands along the shores
of Loch Ness, required a considerable journey of approximately six hours, which
we accomplished through a combination of swift steam rail and a horse-drawn
carriage. I assured James that I would send a letter detailing our
circumstances.
Upon
arriving at St. Benedict’s Abbey in the evening, I was immediately covered by a
sense of calm and tranquillity, inspired by the Gothic Revival architecture of
the monastery. The structure's walls, built from robust, rough-hewn local pink
and grey Highland granites, were elegantly contrasted by smooth freestone
dressings around the windows, imparting a fortified and ancient aura. The
steep, dark slate roofs were adorned with ornamental iron ridges, stone
cross-gables, and tall gothic brick chimneys emitting smoke from the peat fires
within.
Inside,
the abbey was illuminated solely by flickering oil lamps and beeswax candles,
which cast long, dancing shadows on the cold granite walls. The thick stone
walls effectively muted the howling Highland winds, creating a profound
silence, broken only by the resonant chants of the monks performing Gregorian
melodies. Shaken by a near-fatal clash with Dracula, I found solace in this
sacred space, and following a brief prayer in the church, I proceeded to meet
Father Kentigern Milne.
Father
Kentigern Milne greeted me warmly, extending a friendly gesture that
immediately put me at ease. I conveyed to him that my family was currently
grappling with a profound spiritual crisis, which we believed was influenced by
malevolent forces of a satanic nature. In light of this troubling situation, we
had decided to seek refuge in the abbey for a period of time, hoping to find
solace and guidance. I also expressed our desire for the blessings of Father
Kentigern Milne and the other priests, as we believed that such spiritual
support would be instrumental in fortifying our spiritual well-being.
Although
Father Kentigern Milne graciously declined my request for blessings, I felt
compelled to offer a substantial donation to the abbey, believing it would
contribute positively to our experience there. In response to our needs, Father
Kentigern Milne promptly summoned a junior priest, instructing him to arrange
for our accommodations, ensuring that we would have the necessary lodgings
during our stay.
The
accommodations provided to us were simple yet comfortable, situated just beyond
the confines of the monastery. This location served as a spiritual retreat,
offering us a much-needed respite from the burdens of daily life. As the night
unfolded, the soothing sounds of the priests engaged in their prayers permeated
the air, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity. We found ourselves surrounded
by a profound sense of calm and serenity, reassured by the sanctity of the
ground we occupied. The belief that we were shielded from the ominous presence
of Dracula further contributed to our peace of mind. For the first time in what
felt like an eternity, I was able to drift into a deep sleep, free from the
anxieties that had previously plagued my thoughts.
10th March
St.
Benedict’s Abbey became a sanctuary of hope and security for us, contrasting
sharply with the opulence of the mansion we inhabited, which, despite its
wealth, was permeated by an atmosphere of fear and unease. The looming presence
of Dracula's shadow cast a pall over our lives, instilling a constant sense of
dread that we could not shake off. In this environment of anxiety, we found
solace in the structured routine of the abbey, where our days were filled with
prayer and the profound teachings delivered during sermons. The abbey not only
nourished our spirits but also provided us with sustenance, allowing us to
dedicate the majority of our time to the worship of God, thereby fostering a
sense of peace and purpose amidst the turmoil that surrounded us.
(The end of part 4 )
