Dracula The Undead Part 10

In my awe, I have no strength. His face is obscure but the twin fires of his eyes sear me. I would fall, but he holds me up with his sinewy hands.

He has put on the ca.s.sock I brought -for him. It looks as natural upon him as feathers on an eagle; he could be an abbot, a man of untouchable spiritual authority. One of us must speak; I find my voice. 'Dearest companion of my soul, if there is any need of yours to which I have not attended, only tell me and it shall be done.'

His eyes become more tender. Long deep eyelids come down, the redness turns dark. 'Elena,' he says again. He speaks to me in Hungarian. 'You have given me back my existence. There is only one other need. Life.'

It is as if the whole world stops breathing; all is poised and fragile as ice. The darkness closes around me, the growing light blinds me.

He puts his arms about me and his chest presses hard against mine. So long I have dreamed of this embrace, yet now it comes I am so afraid I wish to escape. He holds me fast, so cold, so hard.In spite of his strength there is something frail and papery about him, like a moth new-emerged from the coc.o.o.n. He puts his lips to my neck and I feel pressure at my throat. I am held to him by a circle of pain. I feel his tongue, his mouth sucking at me. My first instinct is to fight - then a dizzy sweetness pours through me, and I hang limp in his grasp, wanting to laugh through my agony. I come out of my body and see our two heads from above, his silver, mine dark. The fragile night throbs and explodes in thunder; I see trees thrashing, great mountains convulsing and falling. Then, with a racking spasm that seems the end of everything, I am in my body again.

And he is gone.

I see a thin layer of mist flowing through the gap under the lid of the tomb. Dawn pushes grey fingers through the bars. I am dizzy and gasping for breath; but as it pa.s.ses, I dare to look into the tomb.

He lies inside. I see his face clearly! An eagle's visage, a n.o.bleman. White hair flowing back from high temples, thickly curling eyebrows. I see the pink flush of my blood under his pale skin, my blood lying red on his lips under the great white eye-teeth. I am terrified yet I feel the surge of deep, unholy love; I am repelled and yet I want him to take me again and again until I expire in his arms.

He looks at me. I gasp, for it is as if a corpse looks up and speaks, with stiff lips, from a deep catalepsy.

'Faithful child,' he says. 'You serve me well, when all others conspire against me. I must rest now. Come to me again tonight, and we will talk of many matters. My beloved. Go home now and keep your silence.'

'Beloved,' he calls me!

I watch him for a while, but he does not speak again. I drag the heavy lid into place, so that he might rest in darkness. Then I go into the damp, foggy graveyard and hurry home, breathless and dizzy every step of the way.

O night, come quickly! How am I to get through this day?

8 November The day pa.s.sed easily enough. Mina remarked that I looked pale; I a.s.sured her that I am well, but once she was gone I pinched my cheeks and bit my lips to make myself rosy again. I must not arouse their suspicions! .

Van Helsing and the other men, Dr Seward and Lord G.o.dalming, are still here. I wish they would go; I know they are my Dark Companion's enemies, and are conspiring against him again! I grow angry with them, but then I laugh secretly; for I know they cannot win. There is much secretive talk behind closed doors, and at mealtimes the tension between them is so thick I might cut it to pieces with a cheesewire. Mr Harker looks haggard. I catch him gazing at me as if he guesses, though I know he cannot guess. I am tense, also, but for reasons they do not imagine.

1 thought night would never come, but at last Quincey was put to bed, and I made an excuse to retire early. Then I had to wait for the household all to go to bed, lest someone should see me leaving!

By the time I reached the graveyard, I was no longer excited but trembling with terror. Why am I doing this, walking again and again into such danger for his sake? I pa.s.s between the avenue of gravestones and dark yews towards his tomb, but before I reach it a dark figure appears before me.

It is him. My heart fails. I almost cry out, but he catches my arms and my breath stops in my throat. His form is so starkly black in the ca.s.sock. How fierce his face is, made more fearsome by the curling bushiness of his eyebrows, the long white moustache and the profusion of his long pale hair. I close my eyes, cannot look at him. I am faint with the conflict of desire - to escape him yet to be held captive.

'Look at me, Elena,' he says. His voice is stronger than before, rich and harsh and commanding. 'What do you see?'

'A handsome n.o.bleman. One who was a great hero.'

'Do not flatter me. The truth!'

'You know I speak the truth!' My own spirit surprises me.

His lips lift beneath the moustache; it seems a smile, though a very bitter one. 'I have not seen my own face for more than four hundred years. No mirror can capture my image.' He draws me to an overgrown tomb and sits me beside him on the molded stone. His frailty of the first night has gone, but I perceive a weakness in him, as if he were held by invisible chains to the graveyard.

'You will talk to me and tell me all you know of the world,' he says gently. 'I have walked upon it for four hundred years and more.

Yet it has turned for seven years which pa.s.sed as eternity compressed into a single moment for me. Now all is strange again.'

'Beloved companion, I thought you knew all there is to know. You have taught me so much!'

'And I have lost much. It could be, Elena, that you saw visions of matters that I have forgotten. Not all knowledge survives the grave. I have lain for so very long in one grave or another.'

We talk for hours. It is so bitter-sweet to lie in the arms of death and talk like lovers. I tell him how the wolf came to me and led me to the castle, the visions I saw. At everything I say, he nods, as if rea.s.sured. 'Yes . . . yes, I do remember.' And he tells me some of his own story; wild, rambling and so strange I cannot follow it all, but the core of it I understand. 'They destroyed me - the Harkers and the accursed Van Helsing, who has made himself doctor of every discipline as though he would heal the very world of its sickness. Fool. Elena, my own land was frozen in the Middle Ages, drained of its vitality by war, a ghost of itself. I sought a new kingdom, to move among the whirl and rush of humanity in these great cities of the West. . . but they foiled me. And they did worse. They destroyed some I loved, who cannot return as I have. For that, they must be punished.'

He speaks simply, not vengefully. But such is his pa.s.sion that I would give my life to help him. 'Van Helsing is a friend of my uncle. He is staying with the Harkers.'

'I know, Elena,' he answers. 'I have watched them through your eyes, through each other's eyes. I have entered their dreams and defiled them.' He smiles; it is almost a sneer, a h.e.l.lish look of pleasure. 'Do they ever speak of me?'

'Not to me. They believe me to be utterly innocent, and they intend the child and myself to remain so. But now I know why they made the journey to Transylvania; to see again the place where they destroyed you! But among themselves, I am certain they speak of nothing else. They sent for the others, too, Seward and G.o.dalming. They are very afraid.' 'Good. How sweet to see madness eating at them. They know I am among them. Jonathan yielded easily to me; Van Helsing drove me out; Mina I could not enter, but she is falling in another way. She is strong. I need her blood.' 'Is mine not enough?' I ask, jealous. 'It is the finest wine, beloved.' He touches my cheek; my skin tingles deliciously where his fingers pa.s.s. 'But my blood runs in Mina's veins. Until I taste it I cannot reclaim my full powers.' I fall quiet. I can't argue, yet still I hate it. I fear my jealousy will make him angry. Instead he stretches out his left hand above my lap.

'But how good it is to live again!' he says, flexing the fingers with their long, pointed nails. I take his hand between my own. 'You gave me this gift, beloved. To taste, to see through my own eyes, not those of others. To hear the music of the owl and the wolf, to touch skin. Your skin.' He leans closer to me, his mouth near my neck. I shiver. 'No earthly taste, no meat, no wine, no sweetmeat can ever compare to the taste of blood. No potion can mimic its vitality. Why do you tremble?'

'I am afraid of you,' I said.

'Then you are wise,' he replies, drawing away. 'But they are the ones who should fear me. You have nothing to fear - as long as you are loyal. Will your courage fail? You are a danger; you might give away my hiding-place to them.'

'No!'

'You chose to help me of your own free will, beloved child. You might as easily change your mind.'

'My choice is made!' I say fiercely. 'How dare you doubt me? I will never betray you!'

'Then you have only yourself to blame,' he murmurs, for whatever befalls. Do my bidding without question now, and later you will be rewarded richly.'

I bow my head, promising all. I am leaning against him; one of his arms is around me, the other moving to brush aside my hair and loosen the collar of my dress. My body turns limp with languor, my head falls back, and his teeth pierce my exposed throat. I come floating up out of my body, while the world spirals upon itself, full of stars and angelic voices singing in painful discord. The spiral tightens into a violent convulsion and I am flung back into my mortal body.

'Now leave me,' he says.

'Must I go?' I cling to him, but he holds me away.

'Yes, beloved. I have much to do; money, clothes, horses to acquire . . . There is no need for you to come here again. I will come to you. I am strong enough now.'

'To leave this place?'

'And to complete my revenge.'

I barely remember going home. At eight, Mary woke me only with difficulty. I must rest as much as possible, for the slightest exertion makes me breathless - but none of this matters. I am in a state of bliss.

I am not entranced or bewitched by him. When I began to help him, I chose that path - or it chose me. I know what he is, yet I knowingly brought him back. I am only the instrument of his rebirth, I know, but without me he could not have returned - any more than a child can be born without its mother. I serve him by choice, as he said.

He means to destroy the Harkers, I know that. They have been kind to me; I am fond of them in turn. I wish them no harm, I have no grudge against them as he has. Why then do I wish to aid him in their downfall?

Because they harmed him. Because he freed me from the shackles of my father, of marriage and society; I am now instead to him mother and daughter, wife and lover. Ours is the free exchange of true friends; I give him my aid, and he in time will give me the freedom that is everlasting life.

MINA BARKER'S JOURNAL.

8 November life has been quiet, nothing more has happened. Indeed we have all sensed a relaxing of the atmosphere. Perhaps the haunting was only an aberration, perhaps it was dismissed by the power of our prayers - I know not. I wish only to forget it!

I must employ a nurse for Quincey. I think I have expected too much of Elena. She is meant to be our guest, after all. She has willingly taken constant and excellent care of the boy, but I fear it has overtired her, especially the worry of his illness. She seems very tired these past few days. I have told her to sleep in, if she feels the need.

Jonathan's arm is slow to heal. Dr Seward is very concerned about it. Poor Van Helsing is mortified by the injury, blaming himself though we all know it was not his fault. Again I have asked Jonathan to move back to our room, again he has refused.

Later, night I have had the most disturbing dream.

I dreamed that I woke in the night to find the room full of a thin, glowing white mist. A dark figure in silhouette leaned over me, with two livid red sparks for eyes. It was Count Dracula. I would have screamed in terror, had my throat not been paralysed. He did not touch me, however. He spoke, his accursed voice clear and lifelike, and exactly as I remember it.

'You know what I must have of you,' he said. 'I must have your life-blood. But this time you will give it of your own free will.'

'Why?' I said. It was the only word I could force out.

'G.o.d gave you a choice between good and evil. No act is evil unless it is undertaken by choice. Is it not so?'

'Some blame attached itself to me when you drank my blood and made me drink yours,' I cried, 'even though I did not collude.

The stain did not leave me until you died!'

'Did you not collude? In your heart, at least?'

With that the dreadful figure vanished. I awoke properly then, thinking I saw a white mist vanishing through the cracks of the window. (I supposed it to be only a continuation of the dream, but I recall it vividly even now, as if I truly saw rather than imagined it.) I sat up, very cold and upset. How I wished Jonathan were beside me! To my surprise - and relief, I must admit - at that moment there was a soft knock at my door, and Elena came in with a candle, all in white, her lovely hair loose on her shoulders.

'Mina, I cannot sleep. Please may I lie in your bed for a little while?'

'Oh, please do, dear,' I said, flinging the cover back for her to climb in. 'I couldn't sleep either. Have you had a bad dream?'

'Not bad,' she said as she snuggled up beside me, 'but strange.'

'So have I. Let us comfort each other.'

It was a relief to have her there with me, such a gentle, comforting presence! She put her arms round my neck and hugged me so close that the satiny skeins of her hair covered my face, and almost deprived me of air. There seemed a strange smell in her hair; earthy, very nearly unpleasant, yet evocative of something I cannot call to mind.

'Mina, I feel so close to you,' she whispered. 'You have been such a friend to me, such a wonderful and loving friend!' And she planted kisses on my face and lips, becoming more and more fervent until I, growing alarmed, tried gently to push her away. For a few moments she resisted me, and I hardly knew what to do, for I did not want to be rough with her. Then, to my relief, she gave an exhausted sigh and fell asleep - wound so tightly around me that I could not move for fear of disturbing her. So I barely slept and met the morning tired and listless. Never mind.

What a strange girl she is. But I am glad that she has found such happiness with us, and trusts me enough to find comfort in me.

10 November Our happiness is undone. All is recorded in Jonathan's journal. I can add no more.

JONATHAN BARKER'S JOURNAL.

(Dictated by him and entered by Abraham Van Helsing)

10 November, evening I have not written my journal for some days. My right hand is nearly useless so Van Helsing is writing at my dictation. Curse the fiend that inflicted this upon us!

We must record all that is happening, unbelievable and horrific as it is. Mina sits with us as we work, for I cannot bear to be alone. None of us can. G.o.d keep and protect us!

We had a few days of peace - a lull in the storm, as we now know. Tonight after dinner, Van Helsing, Seward, G.o.dalming and I joined Elena and Mina for a pleasant game of cards. At about ten Elena excused herself, saying that she had a slight headache and would go to bed. Thank goodness she left us when she did!

The five of us sat talking pleasantly of happy times. At first all was well, but slowly we began to notice a change in the atmosphere, so imperceptible at first I could only put it down to my overwrought imagination. There was a chill in the air, a sighing sound, as of a gale blowing hard in the distance. We became tense, starting at the slightest sound, then looking worriedly at one another. A door banged upstairs. The fire flared, sending out a whirl of sparks, and at that the cat appeared from nowhere, raced across the room and stood against the flames, hissing, her back arched and her tail fluffed out.

This alarmed me more, for I had not realized Puss was in the room; I am nervous of her still, so Mina always shuts her out. I leaped up to open the door, meaning to shoo her away. But as I looked into the hall, the house felt wrong - as if the windows and doors were gaping open to the night, which came flowing cold and black into our home. This was an illusion, for I could see that all was closed and secure - yet the impression was so strong that I was for a few moments almost witless with terror. I saw my study door standing ajar. Something compelled me to go to it, to rea.s.sure myself that all was well and to close the door.

As I walked along the hall, I saw a dim light burning within the study. A sense of dread overwhelmed me; I caught a vile odour of earth mingled with blood, and this woke such terrible memories that my head reeled. My left hand trembled as I pushed open the door.

Sitting in my chair, at my desk, was a figure I dreaded to see - had thought I would never set eyes on again! I knew him instantly. I would know that accursed face anywhere, the aquiline nose and cold arrogance of the expression. Dracula.

If I had discovered the very Devil himself there I could not have been so utterly unmanned by horror. My knees buckled; I must have shouted, for Mina and the others came running; but those few seconds are blurred.

But to tell, objectively, what I saw: the man in my place was all in black, in an old-fashioned black coat b.u.t.toned to the throat.

He was not quite as I remembered him, the first time I met him at the castle; the thick white hair, brushed back from his high temples, was now streaked with black. His brows were dark, though as heavy as before, almost beast-like in their profusion; his eyes dark, also, with no gleam of redness visible. He was clean-shaven. There was no moustache to obscure the voluptuous cruelty of his red mouth, or the long sharp teeth that rested on the lower lip. He was - as we had seen him once before - an old man turning younger.

The desk drawers and the safe were open, papers lying about on the floor, as if he had ransacked the place. He had before him on the desk a thick typescript, which I had caught him in the act of reading. I realized that it was our precious collection of doc.u.ments relating our encounter with him.

He looked up very slowly and calmly after I cried out. By then, the others were coming into the doorway behind me; I tried to push Mina back. I heard Seward curse, G.o.dalming give a gasp of despair. The Count rose to his feet. There was no violence in his demeanour, only the old-world courtesy that I remember from our first meetings, when I was still innocent of his nature!

After our initial outbursts, we were dumbstruck. Van Hel- sing crossed himself; at this the Count smiled, a smile that only the Devil could produce. He lifted his hands, palms turned outwards as if in a gesture of mollification or greeting. I saw the pale hairs on the palms, the sharp nails. A weight of ghastly memories fell on me and I would have collapsed, had Mina not held me up.

'Mrs Harker, bring your husband to a chair,' said the Count, coming from behind the desk. He held one hand towards us, the other towards the leather armchair by the fireplace, as if to guide us there. This seemed the most extraordinary parody of concern!

'He is unwell. I see from this that you remember me.'

I sank heavily into the chair, Mina sitting on the chair-arm beside me, the others standing erect as if to shield us. The Count stood no more than six feet from us, his face horribly pale against the midnight black of his clothes. Strange to say, in the midst of my shock, it was a relief to see him in the flesh; to know that our strange dreams and imaginings of late have had a concrete origin.

That I am not mad, after all!

Dracula spoke mockingly. 'Why do you look upon me with such horror? You destroyed me, did you not? You have all the remedies against my kind at your disposal, Dr Van Helsing. Surely, then, you have no reason to fear me?'

'We destroyed you,' Van Helsing said gruffly, 'and we do not fear you.'

'I should think not, since you are four against one.'

'Five,' said Mina.