37The other day I was watching Coppola's Dracula when inspiration struck, so this is based on his movie, I can't say it's based on Stoker's Dracula though I might take some things from it because despite the director's claims, both are quite different… Please do tell me if you think I should keep going. smile
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30 October - Mina's journal
The train's jostling suddenly tore me from my slumber with a soft moan of protest, and instantly, Jonathan was by my side, hushing in an attempt to comfort me, I turned to him and managed a weak smile. He still is so solicitous, so gentle and loving despite his terrible past experiences. I know it still affects him, how could I not notice when his eyes cloud over in regrets and veiled horror? His stay with the three demonesses left scars, and not only in his prematurely graying hair.
I certainly wish my own contact with the creatures of the night had left only early white strands… how to explain my feelings when I myself am not sure? I am married to Jonathan, yet he has yet to at least attempt to touch me, and I guess that is my fault as well; whereas I once thrived in his touch, greedily drinking the kisses we managed to steal in a secluded spot, I now find those very same kisses somehow lacking. I know for a fact that his touch is the same from before he parted, and yet I now feel he lacks fire, passion.
I blush even writing this, and yet it is the truth. Kissing my husband, I miss the dangerous sensation that seems to come from the prince's very presence. Strange, how I can find myself yearning for something, no, someone that imbues fear into my very bones, someone I know was responsible for my best friend's death, her silent killer. Someone who lacks a soul, yet claims to love, someone without a beating heart, yet strangely alive. The Devil that hides in the shadows.
I still wonder what came over me that fateful night. Why did I agree to drink from him? I know it was what I desired then, but why? What madness would make me agree to seal my fate, to accept eternity as a soulless killer… to accept death? I recall some things more clearly than others, his large hands, a silent heart, his admission, rage, a coppery taste, red eyes. And yet, even as I just want it all to end, another part of me rejoices as every covered mile takes us closer to something.
November 6- Mina's diary
I woke with a most curious sense of dread and excitement, a mix that left my body tense and all my nerves on end. Jonathan is close, I can somehow tell, but there's another, darker pull that I dare not mention to Dr. Van Helsing. Lately my sleeping patterns have been strange, to say the least. I keep falling unconscious with dawn and re-awakening until sunset, I don't stand garlic, (as discovered by hostile farmers), can't cross Van Helsing's protection circles, have all but stopped eating and look weaker and paler by the day. There's no denying it, the Count's curse keeps spreading like poison in my veins. Today's nearing confrontation holds so much at stake… and may god forgive my unworthy soul, but it seems both sides hold people dear to me.
Later
What have I done?
Near sunset today we finally saw a carriage appear on the horizon, led by gypsies, it was obviously the prince's transport and there, hot on their heels and spurring their horses as much as they could, came Jonathan, Quincey, Arthur and John. Then I felt the pull, it was as if I could listen to the count's exotic accent whispering my name right besides my ear, a summoning that made me near the scene despite the impossibility of listening to him from such a distance and above the roaring hooves. Another shot, another gypsy down, another call and I snapped, I ran from my protected place by Van Helsing's side and climbed the nearest ledge I could reach. Moved by something between despair and the overwhelming need to protect I raised my arms and beseeched the winds, I still am not sure why I did what I did, or how I knew the snow would answer my desperate call, but it did. My companion's eyes seemed to pierce the back of my skull, such was the intensity of his gaze, but I was too busy to notice, with my own gaze trapped between the chase getting closer to us and the rapidly sinking orb in the darkening sky and his pride caressing my subconscious.
My impromptu storm did its job, slowing both slayers and hunted enough for the sun to sink in the horizon, after which it all but doubled in fury. I stared for an instant, mesmerized by my own new powers before springing into action, running to get into the castle before the gate closed. I was unsuccessful and was forced to stand outside as the true battle began. Jonathan, John and Arthur fought bravely to overcome the count's men, I had lost sight of Quincey, but the gypsies were good swordsmen and didn't go down easily. Looking to my left I spotted a narrow passage, it took me inside the castle and right above the warring men just as the box so jealously warded suddenly exploded, sending earth, debris and pieces of wood flying everywhere.
The slayers froze as Dracula himself made his appearance, still extremely dangerous despite his aged appearance. I clearly remember the looks on their faces, they were disheartened, surprised and weary. The count wasn't supposed to wake, but now that he had, the tables were turned. Quincey had been stabbed and laid bleeding in the snow, several bodies were strewn around him, testament that he hadn't gone down without a fight, Van Helsing was right behind me, too far away to be any real help, Arthur was holding his own against another man, very much like Jonathan, who was the closest to the count. Things weren't looking good for them, and when the… vampire (I still can't seem to write it!) turned his bloody gaze to Jonathan, my heart leapt in terrible fright. Dracula took poor Harker by the neck and with only that one hand lifted his feet clear off the ground, proving his immense strength and making the man choke as he was being slowly strangled by his own weight.
I heard someone cry out, and it took a moment to understand it had been me, I sprinted to where my… the prince held poor Jonathan, amazed no-one tried to stop me. I clung desperately to Dracula's outstretched arm, sobbing at him to release his victim. He just turned and fixed in me instead that burning gaze, but I had to make him listen. Slowly and without tearing his eyes from mine, he lowered his arm and Jonathan with it, making the man stumble and take greedy gulps of air as soon as he was released, but I dared not turn to see if he was fine. I understood we'd lost, yet somehow, wasn't afraid for myself. Since drinking his blood, I had begun becoming a nosferatu myself, a creature of night who has to kill to survive, and the change is already so advanced, he had shown an interest in me before and I've become pretty much one of his own by now. My companions, on the other hand had proved to be too bothersome, they knew too much, were fully human and at his mercy in his own domain, an easy prey.
Without any other option, I appealed to a mercy I wasn't sure existed in the first place, I pleaded for my friend's lives. I saw the others surround Jonathan and help him rise, and he seemed intent on speaking his mind when he was stopped. I picked Van Helsing's whisper, saying it was too late, I was doomed and there was nothing they could do about it anymore. Sadness overwhelmed me for an instant then, for they were right, they had risked their lives in an effort to save my soul and lift the curse, and it had been for naught, the least I could do was try to get them safely out of the count's domain. I'm not sure of all I said, but I promised that they wouldn't be a threat ever again, for the sad truth was that, even if they divulged his secret, who would listen? They'd be thought mad. Then something seemed to give him pause, I was like him, more vampire than human now, and couldn't go back to civilization even if I tried. With or without my companions, Mrs. Harker or not, I was his now. The prince then made a strange question, he asked me if I truly wished to spare them, he asked if it would make me happy if they lived and I was quick to give my positive answer. He then bowed strangely to me and gave some instructions in his tongue to the gypsies before turning to Jonathan.
His terms were very clear, he would let them go unscratched because of my insistence, but he wouldn't be so merciful should there be a second time. His men would escort all five (including the now deceased Quincey) back into the train to ensure their safety, but he wouldn't keep his wolves at bay past the first train back. All of them got into the carriage in silence, and I couldn't help but stare back as Jonathan's heartbroken eyes left the castle and eventually got lost in the snowy distance. It took the prince's voice to get me back into the present and he took me into his castle, a guest rather than a prisoner.
I now write from my new room, which somehow seems familiar though I'm sure I have never been here before. Guilt seems to eat away at my insides, for in the end, though I saved the group they might have not needed saving had I not interfered with a storm in the Count's favor. No point in crying over spilt milk, as they say, it's time I pay my acceptance of the tainted blood, I'll have to learn to live with my decisions and as count Dracula's companion. He's been nothing but courteous to me since I came, and the room he says is now mine is lavishly decorated, the decay and cold that prevails in the castle seems not to have touched this place, the bed looks too comfortable and I'm tired, so I'll just lay down and perhaps tomorrow won't look quite so bleak as it does now… though both the prince and I know it won't be long now before I'll need a coffin instead.
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