Dracula (A Modern Telling) Read online

  He only had one bag with him which he placed in the backseat. We said hello and then began to drive.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Jack. I loved her. I saw our life together, having children, growing old. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “You’re going to move on. Because that’s what she would’ve wanted. You’re still going to have those children and you’re still going to grow old with somebody. Life moves on, Arthur. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with less regret and longing for the past than Lucy. It’s what she would’ve wanted.”

  He was silent a long while before saying, “I want to see her. Right now, before the wake.”

  “Arthur, I don’t think—”

  “I love her, man. I need to see her alone.”

  I was silent a second. “Okay. I’ll take you.”

  We drove in silence the rest of the way. When we reached the funeral home I parked in back and thought maybe I should stay in the car. But he looked so shaken I thought he might pass out so I went inside with him.

  I arranged a private viewing with the mortician and we went into the back. The casket was opened and … I couldn’t believe it. She looked more beautiful than when I had seen her last. Her skin had lost all color and was a pure, frosty white; her lips were still red and plump, and her hair was smooth as silk, but her fingernails had grown longer it seemed. An optical illusion I figured, since skin retracts at death.

  Arthur began to cry. “Is she really dead? I mean, she doesn’t look—”

  “She is, Arthur. I’m sorry.”

  EXCERPT FROM “LOVE IN THE AGES”

  An account of the mysterious rise and demise of Blood Burn as described to the author by the parties involved.

  By Belamy Woodwards

  First Draft

  CHAPTER 26

  As soon as Mina heard of Lucy’s death, she rushed back to Boston. The plane was packed and Jonathan allowed her to sit at the window. He appeared frail and weak and his hair had gone gray though he was only thirty-three. Mina took his hand as she looked at the passing farmland underneath her.

  She squeezed Jonathan’s hand, letting him know that she appreciated his coming with her. This wasn’t easy for him, she knew. He’d been having night terrors since his ordeal at the mansion. Mina still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened: he didn’t speak about it much, but she knew it must’ve been something awful to wake him up screaming.

  When they touched down at Logan International, Dr. Jack Seward was there to meet them. Mina thought he looked as tired as they did.

  “How are you?” Jack said, kissing Mina on the cheek and shaking Jonathan’s hand.

  “Sorry, Jack,” Jonathan said, “I know you two were close.”

  “Yeah, I wish there could’ve been something we could’ve done.”

  “Do they know what it was exactly?”

  “No, her blood came back clean. The cells were literally imploding so something was wrong, but we just haven’t identified it. There’s still a lot unknown to science and nature’s always coming up with new ways to kill us.”

  Jack spoke of various blood diseases and what had been going on with Dr. Van Helsing and what Lucy’s last days were like. Mina felt in a haze, like she were walking through fog. Her mind tried to engage in conversation, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Her best friend of twenty years had just died and they couldn’t even tell her why.

  As they were walking out of the terminal, she glanced to her right and saw a man standing in a crowd. He was dark, with beautifully crafted sunglasses. He was wearing jeans and a sports coat, but the coat looked like something from a different century.

  Their eyes locked and Mina couldn’t look away. She knew him from somewhere, somehow, though she couldn’t place him.

  “Mina?” Jonathan said. “You coming?”

  She hadn’t realized she had stopped walking and was staring at this man. She glanced toward Jonathan and when she looked back, the man was gone.

  They drove in relative silence and entered the city. Mina could see the skyscrapers that seemed to touch the clouds, and the sky itself was clear though the weather felt cold because of the warmth in California. Though she had always loved Boston, the city held ghosts for her now and she thought that maybe, if Jonathan would approve, California should be where they keep their eye on.

  Mina was dropped off at her apartment and Jonathan told her he had some things to take care of and would be back later that night. She kissed him and stepped out of the car. Going inside her building, she suddenly felt exhausted and, after putting her bags away, she lay down for a quick nap.

  It was nearly five hours later that she awoke and glanced out her window to see a city immersed in darkness. An overwhelming compulsion to not be alone right now came over her and she decided she would go for a walk and buy a drink.

  Downtown was busy, as always. Cars filled the streets and the sidewalks were crammed with stay-at-home moms and joggers and dog walkers. She saw a couple of children playing in front of a café and watched them a few moments.

  A thought entered her mind. It didn’t seem to just pop in like thoughts did, but was almost forceful. Like she had heard it.

  See me. See me now.

  She glanced over across the street … and saw the man from earlier. She stared at him a long time as he stood motionlessly. She turned and entered the café. Inside, it was crowded and she waited in line.

  “How many?” the hostess asked.

  “Just a Diet Coke. To go, please.”

  Mina paid for her drink and went outside when she felt a bump to her right. The man was standing there now.

  “Excuse me,” he said, his voice soft and familiar. “I’m not used to Boston. Perhaps a beautiful woman would be able to help—”

  “You can ask directions in the café,” she said, before walking around him.

  “I’ve offended you,” he called out from behind her. “Forgive me. I’m just looking for the theater. I’ve heard there’s a play there that allows to you partake of it and immerse yourself. It’s supposed to be revolutionary.”

  “Boston’s filled with theaters. I’m sure you’ll find it.”

  Mina continued walking and turned a corner past the café and there, in front of her, stood the man again.

  “A woman so beautiful shouldn’t walk these streets alone. Especially at night.”

  “I’ll call the police.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ll leave.”

  As the man was walking away, Mina suddenly felt sorry for him. He had a loneliness to him that tugged at her. “Wait, it’s me that’s been rude, not you. If you’re looking for the theater it’s just—”

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Vlad of Wallachia.”

  “A prince? Really? Just here walking the streets of Boston?”

  “I’ve come to see someone I haven’t seen in a long time.”

  They were silent a while before Mina said, “I know you from somewhere. I know it. We’ve met.”

  “I’ve crossed centuries to find you.”

  CHAPTER 27

  The theater was dark as Mina stood in line to get in. It was an experimental play, one she’d heard about but never bothered to see. The prince stood to the side of her. She wanted to leave, to go back to her apartment, but the thought of being alone filled her with dread. Instead, she decided she would see this play. At least part of it. It would be nice to be surrounded by people.

  The play began while they were in line. They were forced to wear masks and their personal items were taken from them. The theater was large, and instead of sitting in an auditorium they were allowed to wander around. The play took place on six levels and they could take a staircase to each.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the prince said. “Art seems to constantly surprise us.”

  “I can’t believe you’d call this art. This is just insanity. There’s no form, no story. I shouldn’t have
come.”

  Mina turned to leave and he softly touched her arm. “Don’t fear me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and in an instant they were on a different floor. A couch was in the room with actors on the other side, playing their roles. He laid her down on the couch and gently leaned over her.

  “Stop it!” she said, her voice low.

  He spoke to her softly in a language she didn’t recognize, his eyes burning.

  “Who are you?” she gasped. “I know you. I know you.”

  Thin white teeth protrude from his mouth and the prince turns from her. He bites his lip and pulls away.

  “Who are you?” Mina gasped.

  “I am … your slave.”

  DR. SEWARD’S EVERNOTE JOURNAL

  September 15

  The funeral was held in the evening just before twilight. Arthur and I had plans to get drinks after the funeral and Quincy insisted on coming. His being here actually surprised me. I know he and Lucy were good friends and had gone on a few dates, but he seems pretty shaken up about her death. I guess anyone filled with so much life touches people in unexpected ways.

  Mina and Jonathan Harker were there of course and it was great to see them again. I was taken back a little by Jonathan’s appearance. His hair had gone gray, even grayer than at the airport it seemed, and he had a sadness and jitteriness to him that I don’t remember.

  Van Helsing was at the funeral as well and he asked to join us. I had no problem with that and the four of us went to a little bar nearby. It was an old tavern and the building itself was over a hundred years old. You had to walk downstairs and the door always jammed. But it was private and the atmosphere was friendly.

  We sat at a booth and ordered beers. Quincy and Arthur began telling stories about Lucy. Funny things she’d said or done. Van Helsing took it all in, waiting patiently. When he felt we’d grieved enough, he spoke.

  “I saw something once in a little village in Romania. I was traveling through on my explorations of Europe after the fall of the Soviet Union. It was a tiny village, no more than a few hundred people. As I went to the tavern to get a hot bowl of soup, I expected to see people drinking and laughing. Instead, they were quite solemn. I sat down, ordered my soup, and asked the waitress what the problem was. She said it was nothing and went about her business.

  “Well, I had begun eating my soup and thought nothing of it when a man burst through the doors. He was covered in blood that had stained his clothing and his throat seemed to have been torn out. He collapsed right there and then inside the pub. People attended to him but they wouldn’t touch him. I stood up, being possibly the only physician in the village, and went to him. We carried him to a room and I attended to him as best as I could with the supplies that I had. But it was too late. He died several hours later and there was nothing I could do.

  “A service was held the next day. Out of respect, I thought I should attend. We buried the man and I went back and packed up my things. They held what we would call a wake but was just really an excuse for everyone to get drunk and I was invited. I thought it would be interesting so I went. I too, gave in to the drink and was inebriated to the point that I thought it best to wait until morning to leave, so I went to my room and prepared myself for bed.

  “I glanced out the window as I was undressing and I saw a figure there. He wore fine clothing that was covered in dirt and he appeared white as a ghost. It was the man I had just seen buried. He was wandering the streets somewhat aimlessly. I thought I was mistaken but the more I looked at him the more I knew it was him. I ran downstairs and told the few people in the inn where I was staying. Several of the men looked to each other and then retrieved swords. I thought this in and of itself was odd as several rifles hung on the walls. We went outside and the man was there. His throat had not closed up and was a ghastly sight to behold. He couldn’t speak as he had no larynx, and so just growled and gasped. The men stabbed him … dozens of times, until he fell. One then shoved a large wooden spear through his chest. As he did this, another ran up and swung with the sword, separating head from torso.

  “I was furious, thinking the man was still alive and they had murdered him. It was someone at the inn who later explained to me that the dead still walked the earth. The night they’re made they are weak and confused, and afterward they gain more power. That the man I had just seen beheaded had already killed the man who’d been assigned to watch his grave for this very reason, and would’ve killed everyone in the village had he had the chance.

  “I didn’t believe it of course, so I took tissue and blood samples from the man and analyzed them the second I returned to the university. What I saw … was what I saw in Lucy’s blood as well.”

  We sat in silence, staring at Van Helsing. Quincy was the first one to speak and said, “You tellin’ us Lucy is still alive?”

  “No, I’m telling you she is dead. But tonight she will raise herself up, and she will kill.”

  “Doc, no disrespect, but that’s crazier than a chicken hawk in a henhouse.”

  “Come with me and see with your own eyes. She’s in a mausoleum. We can just walk in and verify if she’s actually there.”

  Arthur, anger flashing across his face, said, “I’ve been through enough. I don’t need to go digging up my fiancé because you think she’s a zombie.”

  “Not a zombie, Arthur. Something far worse than that.” He finished his beer. “Just come see, that’s all I ask. If there’s nothing wrong then I’m an old fool and you won’t need to listen to me again.”

  We had drunk just enough that Van Helsing’s calm demeanor and the way he commanded attention influenced us. After finishing our rounds, we headed to the cemetery.

  We drove separate cars, we and Quincy and Arthur. I drove as Van Helsing prepared something in the backseat. I could see in the mirror that he had a machete and a three-foot wooden spear with him.

  “Professor, this is insane. What the hell are you doing?”

  “We have explored exactly five percent of our oceans’ depths, Jack. Five percent. And yet how confident are you that we know everything there is to know about the sea? It is our nature to seek understanding and believe ourselves to have understood. But there are unexplainable phenomena in this world, Jack, that don’t fit into any of our models or theories. We’ve rationalized away the mythic and the mysterious, but the mythic and mysterious don’t care. They’re still here with us, everyday. Have you ever dreamed of something and then seen it throughout your day? I dreamed of a fish once and I woke and fishing was on the television. One of my students in the front row wore a shirt with a fish on it. The special at the restaurant I supped at was serving fish. You may say coincidence and that I simply looked for fish, but I looked for it the day after and the day after that and for many days to come. No fish. We don’t understand the world as well as we believe we do.”

  “Seeing fish all day and the dead rising is different, Professor.”

  “Is it? It’s the unknown, maybe even the unknowable. We live in a wilderness of horrors, Jack. And we don’t stop to look at the trees.”

  We arrived at the cemetery and Quincy and Arthur were already there. Jonathan and Mina had not wanted anything to do with it and had gone home.

  Quincy was smoking and he let the cigarette dangle from his mouth as we went inside and headed for the large stone structure of the mausoleum. I was struck but just how much influence the professor could exert. Here we were, three intelligent professionals in our mid-thirties, in a cemetery at night simply because the professor had asked.

  We glanced at each other and without a word, began walking. The moon was out and I looked to the stars that were shining down on us. The only other light was the pinpoint of red from Quincy’s cigarette.

  “So, you two were close?” I asked him, once I felt Arthur and the professor were far enough ahead that they couldn’t hear us.

  “You could say that.”

  “How close?”

  I could see him grin in t
he light of the moon. “You’re asking if we were fucking? No, we weren’t. And it’s not from my lack of trying. She said she was in love with someone else.”

  “Is that what she said? Someone else?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Those exact words?”

  “Yeah, those exact words. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  The cemetery was over a hundred and fifty years old; some of the tombstones dated from the civil war, worn out and broken, tilting to the side. The ground was uneven as we made our way up a hill to the mausoleum. It was made of stone with two Corinthian pillars in front. I saw the professor jiggle the lock.

  “Well,” I said, “it’s locked. Suppose we should turn back.”

  “Nonsense,” Van Helsing said. He took something out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock. With a few jiggles, it clicked open. As we went inside, I saw the machete and the wooden staff underneath his coat.

  “Are those really necessary?” I said. “It’s illegal to carry a concealed weapon in Massachusetts.”

  “Who’s concealing?” he said with a grin, pulling the machete out.

  I had never been inside a mausoleum and it was exactly as I had thought it would be. The stench of damp stone and mildew was overpowering but there was no smell of death. A lot more light filled the space from skylight than I thought it would and then I wondered why you’d need a skylight in here. The rich did love their luxuries, even in death.

  Stone steps led underground to a large space with a stone slab and the coffin on top. We all stood by it like children about to poke a dead body with a stick before Van Helsing said, “Well, no time like the present.”

  He grabbed the lid of the coffin and Quincy moved up to help him as they lifted it. Arthur was visibly shaken up. I could tell he was trying to hold back tears and was preparing himself to see his Lucy one last time.