Journey to Castle Dracula

Kelantha's Diary

Castle Dracula had been under speculation for many hundreds of years, being of a precarious position on a cliff side and barred for many miles against all invaders by natural fear. As a collector of stories, as well as a scientist intrigued by abnormal particulars of human life, its lure drew my attention from the everyday mundane life I suffered in London, with its towering street lamps and lackluster fog. My studies at the institution were hampered by the most interminable of companions, namely the opposite sex, who has managed to create in my noble heart the most adverse hatred of the male gender. I had taken to avoiding them whenever possible, binding my hair beneath a cumbersome cap, and even on occasion to wearing trousers in an attempt to go unnoticed, a practice my mother would have heartily condemned.

My parents had never supported my scientific pursuits; even from childhood, I was forbidden to tamper with �the divine.� I could not understand why God had given us such marvels if we were not meant to tamper with them. This lead to our unhappy parting once I was old enough to travel alone, and I never looked back. Our humble home had lost its lure. I was not taken seriously on my travels due to natural prejudice, even when I�d proven myself, and frustration lead me to seek less traveled forms of entertainment. This led me to familiarity with Castle Dracula. It was said to have extraordinary marvels in the form of science. There were shrouded whispers in private that muttered of �immortality,� and �the secret of life,� but were guarded with the utmost secrecy.

All the men in the department, both of wealthy and impoverished upbringing, some intelligent and others foolish, were intrigued by the possibilities the castle could unravel. Natural fear kept them back where I heedlessly plunged forward. It was fierce determination that drove me to make such a reckless decision. I had long summer months ahead of me, and nothing but torment and lonely hours to be found in my shabby little flat in the West End. Thus, with politeness but shockingly obvious demands, I wrote to the count and inquired of the castle�s natural resources. Much to my surprise, for the instant it was sent I assume he would cast it on the fire with a snort of indignation, it was not some weeks letter when a thin envelope with several sheets of transparent paper arrived. The content was charming, and I was enthralled with his penmanship� it was bold and artistic, full of domineering control but ultimate seduction. He mastered the pen, and it succumbed willingly to his articulate talents. It was not wholly correct, for imparted in its scribbling were signs of foreign upbringing, but this only lent to its natural mystery. In no uncertain terms the letter bid me leave to explore the castle for myself, and expressed a similar interest in science by the author.

Much to the alarm and awe of my colleagues, I accepted his generous invitation with excitement. Thus began my lengthy journey first by boat and then by coach into the remote regions of Transylvania. The countryside as we progressed was increasingly breathtaking, as well as bitterly cold. About forty miles from my ultimate destination, another passenger joined me. I had thus far been alone, and avoided more than a surreptitious glance at him as he boarded. There was nothing of particular note concerning his appearance, aside from the unusual state of dress. His cloak was far too long and his hat pulled low, giving him the appearance of a crouching bat in his corner. He made no effort to speak to me.

Because of my beauty, which I report with a sigh is remarkable, I often travel in fa�ade. My height is abnormal, for I am very tall and thin; there is no disguising this attribute, but my features are considerably reduced in valor by the presence of gold-rimmed spectacles and high necklines. Beneath this ensemble, men assume me to be a spinster with a morbid knowledge of bleak literature and largely leave me alone. This guise once again was put to good use, although I am not certain that even had I been interested, the man would have spoken to me. While he had the entirety of the far seat to himself, he kept to a single corner of it beside the window, staring out fearfully and clutching something about his neck.

Darkness had fallen and beneath it was a silver trail of moonlight spreading through the mountains and ebbing onto our narrow, perilous road. We were moving at a frantic pace, having increased in speed on crossing into the county. The driver must have been nervous as well, for at our impossible rate it would have been very easy to tip over. I am not by nature cautious but must admit to certain misgivings. We had left the tree line temporarily and were gazing down into a valley, breathtaking in its splendor. I must have remarked on its beauty, for my companion turned, fixed me with weary eyes, and spoke for the first and last time.

�Great evil lurks in this wood.�

I looked at him strangely, but he had turned back to the window and was holding himself again. We were now approaching a narrow bridge over a precipice, and wooden slats were trembling beneath us. Just as the horses� hooves fell on sturdy ground once more�I do not know what happened. One instant we were flying along as though guided by angels, the next there was a tremulous cry, the shrill scream of the horses, and churning carriage wheels. We were catapulted forward, the coach tumbling head over end, crashing through brambles and saplings. We were thrown against the sides, battering our bodies mercilessly before it came to a sudden, violent stop, having impaled itself against a tree. During the tumble, the door had come undone and snapped off, and my poor companion was flung out. For what might have been hours but seemed only a matter of minutes, I lay crushed beneath the uprooted seat, dazed and uncertain, listening to the tremendous silence in the wood.

Then wearily, all of my limbs trembling for the beating they had received, I crawled out of the coach. Our accident had created a clearing in the wood, smaller trees partially uprooted and snapped to the ground, others battered, our coach in splinters. In the moonlight everything had a dreamy existence, as though I�d fallen asleep and endured a nightmare of the senses. A black shape lay motionless at a short distance and I stumbled over to it, turning my companion�s face to the skies. His eyes were bleak and dead, fixed with unspoken horror on some far point. The glimmer of gold drew my interest downward and I saw that clutched in his bruised fingers was a crucifix. It was a somber ode that gave cause for a chill to creep up my spine.

I knew my only hope was to find the road and pray the township was not far beyond. My strength was returning, even though I felt as though I had been battered to death with our relentless flight, and I made my way down the path we�d broken in the foliage. Not far along was the body of the driver, his neck snapped in a perilous fall. I had just bent over him when far in the distance I heard a faint tremor. The eerie sensation I was not alone took possessive hold of me, and I scanned the tree line for movement. A first careful sweep disclosed nothing, but I refused to allow it to elude me. I pulled my cloak more carefully around me and began to walk down the road. As the sensation continued to grow, accompanied by an oppressive feeling of what my father would define as �evil,� I quickened my pace. I heard movement in the underbrush, and broke into a run, abandoning the path and sliding through the trees.

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