VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN’S JOURNAL

“Nov. 8, 1847 - Bistrita

Arrived in town yesterday evening… Finally!

The journey took longer than expected. I left Geneva twenty-three days ago, arriving in Zurich three days later and Vienna after one week; it took us three more days to reach Buda (the Hungarian city west of the Danube) and another nine to arrive here. Apparently, the further east you go the worst the roads become. The Count made arrangements to store the crates in a local warehouse. I can only hope that nothing happens to my equipment. He also recommended the Lugosi Hotel; an old fashioned inn next to the church where the staff speaks German. It’s a warm enough place, especially in this miserable weather. I was exhausted last night, so after dinner, I resolved to find sleep’s embrace.

Early this morning, I skipped breakfast and left the hotel, opting to take a walk through town. The small city is old but also quite beautiful; despite the marks left by all the wildfires that have plagued it. While it’s not as majestic as Vienna, its colorful buildings and similar narrow street alleys do remind me of the city of music. I visited what’s left of the medieval citadel, as well as Cooper’s Tower; one of the old fortified strongholds. Passing by the local graveyard, I noticed many of the tombstones were decorated with braids of garlic; strange sight indeed. Upon my return, the hotel’s clerk (Alexandru I believe) was waiting for me with a letter from the Count, which read:

“Herr Frankenstein – Welcome to the Carpathians. I hope that your journey from Geneva was a happy one and that you have had enough time to rest. Today at three my diligence will pick you and take you to my home. But before that, you’ll have a proper meal, courtesy of your host.

I’m anxiously waiting for your arrival.

Your friend… D”

I asked the clerk about it and he said the letter arrived three days ago, which I thought was odd. I questioned him as to why the letter wasn’t delivered to me yesterday, for which he apologized and explained that they have received specific instructions by the sender. The document was to be delivered one day after my arrival, to allow me to rest. Very considerate of the Count I suppose.

While he said this, he prudently glanced over my shoulder. I looked back to see a man of short high, sitting behind us while reading a newspaper. My attention was drawn to his elegant midnight-blue suit and pristine black shoes. I am not entirely sure, but I think I saw him looking away. Was he staring at me before I turned? I wanted to ask the clerk about it, but he interrupted, saying that lunch was going to be ready at “exactly 12:45”, and that he would be attending to me personally.

Good… I am really ravenous. Let’s see what the Count has chosen for my first Romanian meal”

Victor closed the journal, which he soon placed inside his luggage; next to another book by one William Wilkinson. After making a hasty toilet, he put on a grey suit and returned to the reception’s waiting area; where the man from before was nowhere to be seen. Victor arrived at the dining room, where almost like clockwork, Alexandru emerged from the kitchen, carrying a small plate filled with a yellow liquid.

“Ciorba de Burta; a butter tripe soup to entertain the gentleman's stomach before the main dish” said Alexandru as he laid the plate in front of Victor, who thanked him before a tentatively a sip. Ten minutes later, the promised main dish arrived. “Saramura… boiled silver carp bathed in brine sauce with just enough paprika to give it an exquisite taste and color; without salting the dish too much of course”

“That looks really good. Thank you” Victor spoke with a pleased tone.

“My pleasure sir; pofta buna” Alexandru gave a courteous smile, before returning to the kitchen.

The Saramura was even better than the soup and Victor felt greatly satisfied by the quality of the meal and service. Five minutes after he was done, Alexandru returned with dessert. “Amandine… chocolate covered cake with a special mixture of caramel syrup, fondant cream and a speck of rum essence on the inside”

Victor thanked him with a friendly nod, while Alexandru remained in place, nervously staring at Frankenstein while he ate. Victor noticed this, as well as the sweat emanating from the man’s face. “Is everything alright sir?”

“Oh yes, Herr Frankenstein; I just wanted to know if everything was of your liking” Alexandru gave a nervous smile.

“Everything is fantastic” Victor replied. Alexandru bowed and disappeared into the kitchen again. Once out of Frankenstein’s view, he exhaled; using a small towel to remove the perspiration from his forehead. The mere possibility of displeasing this particular guest had frightened the young clerk to the core; as he was well aware of the identity—and nature—of said guest’s host. By the time he came back, Victor was gone. He found him sitting in the reception, staring at nothingness; a black overcoat placed by his arm. His luggage lay next to him; including an object wrapped in a dark piece of cloth, and nicely tied up with fine rope.

Alexandru grabbed an issue of “Gazeta de Transilvania” and pretended to read it, while discreetly observing the young foreigner from Switzerland. It was the opinion of many, that Victor’s demeanor was one of discrepancy. He was a tall and handsome man of strong built, with bright golden hair and eyes like the sea; but he never seemed to display the kind of behavior one would expect from someone graced with such physical pulchritude. Instead, he presented himself as humble, soft-spoken and deeply calm; as each time Alexandru gave a brief look, he found him fixed on the same position, with the same detached stare.

One minute before three, an older rugged man of dark skin but European features, dressed in working clothes and a long black leather coat, walked in and approached Victor “Herr Frankenstein?”

Victor rose from the chair, putting his arm forward to allow a handshake. “Yes, I am Frankenstein; a pleasure to meet your acquaintance” The man lowered his eyes, remaining still for a moment before finally returning the gesture. “I’m Leon sir; on behalf of the Count, I’ve come to pick you”

“That is great and just in time” Victor took the coat, while Leon went immediately for the luggage. “Sir, that’s not necessary. I can carry my own—”

“I will carry them” Leon’s delivery was slightly harsh. Victor agreed to let him carry the bags but insisted on taking the wrapped object himself. Outside, a black stagecoach waited for them. The coachman was a bald man of Romanian appearance, dressed in similar attire as Leon. Victor greeted him, to which he answered with a simple nod. Pulling the vehicle were four black horses, and in front of them, a fifth detached horse; this one white. Leon began placing Frankenstein’s bags on the back of the coach as Victor waited. His attention was briefly diverted to a third man, who stood against a wall from across the street while smoking a fancy looking cigarette. Victor thought he looked familiar, and upon closer inspection, realized it was the same man he had seen in the reception. Their eyes met, prompting the stranger to instantly drop the tobacco and calmly walking away.

“Herr Frankenstein…” said Leon, standing by the coach’s opened door.

Victor approached him. “Excuse me Leon, but what about my other things; the ones in the warehouse…?”

“That’s already on the way to the village. Another man took care of it a moment ago” Leon moved away from the carriage’s door.

“Well that’s good to hear, but one more thing; what is that white horse for, if I may ask?” Victor pointed at the colt.

Leon glanced at it, before returning to Frankenstein “I will ride the animal in front of you. If night catches up to us on the way, I will turn a lantern and serve as your beacon”

Victor was surprised by this measure “The Count’s castle is that far away?”

“I do not know what the Herr considers “far”, but with this snow, the journey could be longer than expected” As Leon spoke he seemed to back away further from the door.

“Alright… good thinking” Victor placed the wrapped article inside the carriage as Leon turned back to speak with the coachman. As Frankenstein was about to enter the ride, his arm was grasped from behind by an unknown person. He promptly turned to see a very old gypsy lady holding him. She wore many small necklaces, with a silver wolf pendant in the middle. A dark blue scarf covered her head, while the rest of her clothes were a blend of white and red items that didn't resemble anything worn by any of the other locals. Her face was like a barren land; with dozens of wrinkles and curls cladding it. Her eyes were like lonely ponds in the middle of a forest; colorful, beautiful, but also sad. “Excuse me madam; is everything alright?” He asked. She neared her face to his; deeply looking into his eyes, before uttering back some words in the Romani tongue. She quickly released him and disappeared into an alleyway. Victor looked at Leon. “Did you understand what she said?”

“What who said?” asked Leon, looking around.

Victor pointed to the alley. “What that lady said. I think it was Romanian. I couldn’t understand”

“Sorry sir, I missed the lady. What did she said?” asked Leon.

“She… never mind… it was probably nothing” Victor entered the coach while Leon jumped in the white stallion, pulling on the reins shortly after. The stagecoach followed, and as they drove out of town, Victor was surprised to see the same old woman standing on a corner, staring at them while they passed. “How did she walk there so fast?” he mumbled to himself. The coach carried on, leaving Bistrita behind until it became nothing but a small sight in the distance. They headed northeast, into the Romanian countryside. Frankenstein didn’t think of the women any further.

During the journey, the traveler from Geneva kept marveling at all the beauty the Transylvanian land had to offer. Sometimes they would pass by farms, small villages, and lonely sheds. Not a soul remained outside in that weather; as deep clouds of smoke could be seen soaring above the chimneys. The rest of the time, the coach could be seen crossing rivers, hills, and long plains, with the mighty Carpathian Mountains as their backdrop. The more they neared their destination, the more isolated the road became, making the coach appeared as an insect crossing a white desert.

They eventually took a turn into a smaller straight road surrounded on both sides by groves of pine trees. The sun was now low on the distant horizon. Half an hour passed before they could reach another vestige of civilization; when the coach stopped by a wooden watchtower on the outskirts of a village, where a bulky man holding a rifle looked down from the top to greet them. It was dark by then, as just ahead, lights from outside torches could be seen within a settlement. They carried on, entering Orlok’s Kur, stopping right in the middle of the village. Leon got off the horse and walked to Victor’s window. “We stop here for a moment. The horses need rest and water. Then we continue”

“Very well then” Victor exited.

Kur was unlike the places he had seen during the trip. It was a small village at the foot of the Carpathians, with a long expanded dirt street right in the middle of it; but the houses were made out of brick or fine wood; more akin to what could be found in bigger places like Bistrita or Geneva. Frankenstein saw no one outside, but he did notice a yellow house on the other side of the street. The door was opened, and within it stood an older man; appealingly frowning at Victor in the dim light. Frankenstein assumed the local man might have been puzzled by the sight of a stranger, so he smiled and gave a friendly wave. The man responded by taking one step back and promptly slamming the door shut. “Not in the mood, I guess”

“What was that sir?” asked Leon from the other side of the coach.

“Nothing, just me thinking out loud” Victor replied.

“Just five more minutes and we go” Leon reassured, before helping the bald man with the horses. After finishing, the other man took the white horse and walked away from the coach, as Leon climbed in the driver’s seat. “We can continue now”

“What about him?” Victor asked.

“He stays; I can take you to the Count’s castle myself. The rest of your things are stored in a barn nearby and everything will be brought to the castle tomorrow” Leon replied.

Victor neared him, speaking softly “But it’s dark now sir and I see no lamps on this vehicle. If you drive, what will serve as our beacon in this darkness?”

“We don’t need one. I know the way through the mountains by memory” Leon began shaking his leg impatiently, as Frankenstein stood doubtful of his allegation. After some further convincing, he eventually entered the carriage, which soon moved forward, leaving Kur behind its rear. Beyond the village main area, Victor took notice of a small cabin next to the road, and the sizeable two-story house behind it. The coach entered an ascending pass within the mountains, and as they kept advancing through the dark trail at considerable speed, the wind hastened, while the pathway occasionally became more curved to the right; leaving that side of the coach exposed to high ridges on more than one opportunity. Victor was perplexed by the Leon's fearlessness and confused as to why the horses were not as panicked as he was; as he felt traveling inside a moving coffin heading towards certain doom. Nevertheless, Leon remained true to his word, arriving at Castle Dracula with his passenger unscathed.

Frankenstein was mesmerized when he saw the approach of such a soaring location. The marvel of gothic architecture stood on top of a large cliff, surrounded by other snow-covered peaks. The cliff remained detached from the mountain range by nature; connected to it by a wide stone bridge. Beyond the bridge lay a defensive wall with an immense arched portcullis in the middle of it; closed by a lattice gate made out of wood and metal, which lifted, allowing them to enter the front courtyard. They stopped several feet from the castle’s main entrance; an ample wooden door with intricate metallic carvings. Leon jumped off the driver’s seat to remove Frankenstein’s bag from the back, putting it beside the owner; now standing outside with his head up, amazed by the sight of Dracula’s medieval home.

The high stone keep was tall, wide and outlandish; with thick walls and a few windows. Its odd shape appeared somehow rounded, and while it was quite magnificent, Victor couldn't help to notice the neglected scars left on the structure. The walls were partially cracked, with parts of it marked by fire; and out of the four towers crowning it, one of them was almost completely destroyed.

Leon jumped back on the stagecoach without saying another word, going through a side-path adjacent to the cliff, leading to a lowered part of the castle. Victor stood still and silent. He saw no bells or knocker and was unsure of what to do next. The air was now calm, quieter and slightly less cold, but the darkness surrounding him felt like a black mantle about to fall on his head. He entertained himself by admiring the protective wall at his back, trying to imagine what battles had taken place there while defending the property. A soft sound came from behind him, drawing his attention back to the castle, as he was unable to shake the feeling that something was moving. The place appeared to be getting closer to him, as if such a big thing could sneak while he wasn’t looking. Upon a closer examination, Victor realized he was only half-wrong. It did appear to be moving, but not forward, as the subtle motion came from within and in an outward direction, making the walls moved towards him and then back into place. The castle was basically “breathing”.

Frankenstein tried to ignore this bizarre image. It had to be an effect of the poor light and his tiredness, he thought. The wind shifted, filling the air with a horrible stench of over-burned meat. He looked around him, searching the source of such foul odor when a male voice in the direction of the entrance called out for him.

Victor looked back to the now opened door, seeing not a man, but pieces of one; as inside the darkened interior, all that was visible was the floating head of a very old gentleman with long white hair. Below it, a pair of disturbingly lanky hands with lengthy fingers dangled in the air; with nothing else between the two parts, beyond empty darkness. At the sight of this ghostly figure, Frankenstein closed one fist, putting some space between his legs; the kind of position an animal would make when it gets ready about to fight or escape.

The apparition motioned him to enter, before disappearing into the interior. When it moved, Victor realized that it was, in fact, a man; one with unusually pale skin, whose slender body was coated in pitch-black clothes that blended with the dark; thus creating the illusion of the detached floating limbs. He took his luggage and walked to the door. With each approaching step, the castle’s interior could be seen lighting up by unseen light sources. Inside, Frankenstein found himself in a gigantic empty hall with a big set of grey stairs directly in front of him. He stood at the threshold, searching for the man.

Upon hearing the door closing behind him, Victor turned to find him inexplicably standing there. The old man wore an intricate buttoned overcoat that went from his neck to his knees. His height was one of considerable measure, and there wasn’t a speck of color on his frame, beyond two dazzling green eyes. “Welcome to my house. I am Dracula. You have come in freely and safely. I can only hope that you will leave some of that happiness you bring"

Victor took notice of the Count’s lack of accent and deliberate calm pitch. Putting the luggage down, he placed forward a hand, which Dracula grasped in a strong chilling handshake. “Count Dracula, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Victor Frankenstein”

“I know; please turn and allow me to guide you to where you need to go. I’ll handle your things” Dracula pointed at the bags.

“Count, that won’t be necessary—”

“I insist” said Dracula, very bluntly. Victor was starting to realize this was a habit around here but still insisted on holding on to the mysterious cloaked object. He begged Dracula to call the servants for help, to which the Count revealed he had no servants to call for. This seemed strange to Victor, who otherwise said nothing. Both host and guest walked up the stairs into an elaborate series of corridors, which they used to reach a dark green door. Behind the door was an elegantly decorated room of generous space, with a bed of considerable size set below a stained glass window, which depicted the fall of an angel with the winds on fire.

“Is half an hour enough time for you to prepare?” asked Dracula.

“Yes of course” Victor replied.

“Good, supper will be ready by then; lamb is tonight’s choice. Behind that small door, you will find the lavatory” Dracula pointed at a brown door in the right side of the room. “Make sure the water in the bathtub is still not too hot before you enter. Once you are ready, leave and walk left until the hall turns again. You will find a heavy arched door. That is the dining room. I will see you there” Dracula left the room, closing the door behind him.

Victor accommodated his belongings, as well as himself. He used the restroom but avoided taking another bath. After leaving the bedroom, he followed the Count’s instructions to reach a room with a long table at its center. Dinner was already served, accompanied by a glass of red wine, while on the far-off side of the table, Dracula remained seated. “Sit down my friend. I will sit here with you, but I’m afraid I won’t join you at dinner. I have already eaten, and wine is not really of my liking. Please excuse me”

“Do not worry. I understand” Victor took his seat.

“I hope that you don’t feel too tired by today’s journey” said Dracula.

Victor smiled affably “Not at all; the sight of the local countryside made it feel very short”

“Did you enjoy town?” Dracula asked, leaning back on the chair.

Victor gave a quick nod “I did; Bistrita is a beautiful place. Everything I have seen of your country has been of great beauty”

Dracula bowed softly. "Your words are very welcomed; especially during this year of mourning” Victor asked regarding this.

"Our capital was besieged by a big fire during the spring” Dracula replied.

Victor thought for a moment “Right! I remember reading about it; a terrible tragedy indeed. I apologized for never making a mention in any of my letters”

“No reason for that young man. I never brought the subject either. I didn’t want to worry you with details of death and destruction”

“I would have not minded at all. My condolences to you and the nation”

“You are very kind” said Dracula, smiling. “I must assume you were rightly treated by Lugosi staff…?”

“Oh I was” said Victor, his face lighted up. “And before you ask, your assistants were also very kind and efficient”

“Of course they did; my men know better than to mistreat my guests” There was an unexpected severity in the Count’s words, before he quickly returned to his calmer poise. “What about your room? Is it suitable enough?”

Victor grabbed the silverware. “It’s quite suitable, and I really like the illustration of Lucifer’s fall from grace; the one on the window”

“I’m pleased to hear that, but I’m afraid that the angel is meant to represent men” Dracula explained.

Victor started cutting the meat. “Interesting; the artist chose to portray humanity as servants of god when they were cast out of Eden…?”

“No…” Dracula replied rather bluntly. “…it’s meant to represent the origin of men; cast out of heaven to suffer on earth”

Victor took the glass wine, drawing an awkward smile. “That’s a rather bleak version of the myth”

“I apologized if you find it too disturbing” said Dracula. Victor shook his head, as the Count continued speaking... “I didn’t produce the work, but it was my idea to depict it in that fashion, during the time the castle was being built. It's an effective way to reminds us of the bitterness of life” That had to be a mistake, Victor thought. Based on appearance, the castle was at least several hundred years old. By logic, the Count couldn’t have been there when it was being put together. Unknowingly to Frankenstein, he wasn’t in a realm of logic anymore.

During the time Dracula’s guest finished supper, he was asked more questions regarding the journey and what it felt to be so far from home. Victor, feeling rather comfortable in the presence of his host, spoke highly of his homeland, and excitedly when talking about his family; describing his father as a respected syndic of Geneva and understanding family man. His friend Henry, whom Victor had met since childhood, was proclaimed as more than brother to him, while Elizabeth was placed on a pedestal; thanks to Victor’s descriptions... “She is the kind of woman that could melt even the coldest of hearts; by mere virtue of her intelligence, patience and goodwill nature”

Dracula listened, saving any important matter for after his guest was done eating; when he took him to the room next door; a sort-of parlor, equipped with some furniture and a wide fireplace, which somehow produced a blue flame. Frankenstein took a seat by the unusual fire, and while the host teemed two small cups with a colorless drink, he noticed three portraits right about the chimney. The first two were of men with long mustaches and peculiar hats, dressed completely in red, while the third one was that of a younger red-haired man with emerald-like eyes, clad in a dark blue overcoat. “Is that an ancient descendant?”

“Who do you speak of?” asked Dracula, approaching.

Victor pointed at the wall. “The man in the third painting; there’s an obvious resemblance”

Dracula handed one of the cups. “Oh yes, that is Count Wampyr; a close friend, and to a certain extent, a relative of the other two. The other men are Vlad Dracul and his son—”

“Vlad Dracula, if memory serves me right” said Victor.

Dracula was pleasantly surprised by his guest’s level of knowledge regarding the subject. “I see Herr Frankenstein that you have made your homework when it comes to Romanian history”

“Thank you Count. I did read a few books on the matter and saw illustrations very similar to the painting of the second Vlad. I saw no image or mention of your descendant, but I do believe this Vlad was known as some type of viciously brutal leader; right…?”

Dracula took a seat by his guest. “That is a terrible reputation, given to him by those that do not understand the real intricacy of this country’s past. His methods were brutal, but he also lived in harsh and unforgiving times. Romania has been like a sheep devoured by two wolves; the Hungarian wolf to the west, and the Turk wolf to the east. As for my descendant, local history says he came from a far-off eastern nation. Later in life, he made the sobriquet Dracula his official family name, to honor the memory of Vlad Dracul”

“Interesting; and what happened to the forth painting?” asked Victor.

“What forth painting?” Dracula appeared surprised.

Victor pointed at the wall once more. “There is a mark left to the right of the third portrait, it seems that another frame was there for a long time before being removed”

Dracula gave a very soft mumble. “It was like that when I acquired the castle, and I don't possess another portrait to cover it” When providing the reason, the Count avoided eye contact; a gesture certainly noticed by Victor. “But enough about the past, as the future is a more pressing matter” Dracula drank from his cup.

“Very well then” Victor took a sip from his too, which sent him into a coughing spree, nearly making him spit out the beverage. “I’m sorry…*cough*… I apologized if I—”

“Do not offer your apologies, young man. That is Tuica; a strong spirit, if there ever was one” Dracula drank the rest of his drink with little reaction. “As I was saying; tomorrow at ten, a man named Dimitri will pick you in front of the castle and take you to Kur. Have patience with him, as he is a foreigner from neighbor Ukraine, and has a rather idiosyncratic way of speaking”

“Duly noted Count” Victor replied, as the Count continued “There are a few things I will like you to do in the village. First, I want you to examine your equipment; make sure your things are in good condition before we bring them here. I will also appreciate it if you could pay a visit to a trusted acquaintance of mine; Fritz Sauer. Go at lunchtime, he and his family will feed you well. His home is the only yellow house in the village”

“Yes, I believed I saw it on the way here”

“Good… if you have letters to send back home, write them tonight and give them to Fritz tomorrow, he will make sure to go to town and send them; and will also pick up any letter sent to you. You just need to use the hotel’s address”

Victor nodded repeatedly. “Is there anything else you will like me doing while I’m there?”

“Yes; take your time to get familiar with the people; make some friends if you will. That won’t be hard for you; Kur is a land of Saxons where the German tongue reigns. I insist on this; you are my guest, but there’s no reason for you to spend every single moment of the next months locked in this castle full of relics, with this…” Dracula pointed at himself and silently pondered for a second. “I’m looking for a certain word that you natural philosophers use; the one that refers to the bones of ancient dead creatures. Do you know what term I mean?”

“A fossil…” said Victor, trying to hide a silly-looking smile.

“Exactly; you can’t spend all of your time with this fossil of a host” said Dracula, with a smirk

Victor suddenly turned serious, placing the cup aside. “Count, you say months, but I beg to differ. I don’t believe that I’ll need to stay for that long”

“The experiment doesn’t need that much time?” asked Dracula.

“Not if everything goes as I hope” said Victor. Dracula asked regarding this matter, to which Victor expressed doubt, guessing that it would take less than a month. “…it all depends on how fast we can acquire the… subject”

Dracula placed his cup to a side as well. “Subject…? Don’t you mean corpse?

Victor exhaled. “Well, yes… that’s what I meant”

“Pardon my intrusion, but I feel a trace of hesitation in your speech. Do you find the idea of dealing with death a repulsing one?” asked Dracula

“Of course not; but I’m not sure how you feel about it” said Victor.

The Count neared a hand dangerously close to the fireplace. “Exactly as you doctor Frankenstein; very few things disturbed me actually”

“You honor me by using that word” Victor gave a nervous smile “But I’m no doctor or any other degree. I was expelled before I could finish my studies”

“Yes, that unfortunate affair; I wonder, and once again excuse my invasion, but how did your parents react to that debacle?” Dracula kept nearing his hand to the fire, as Victor kept looking between it and the Count. “My mother died a few years ago, but my father and fiancée were very disappointed at the university’s decision”

“They stand by your side on the issue?” asked Dracula.

“Absolutely”

“You must always treasure that” said Dracula, his fingers dancing in and out of the flames. “There’s nothing more valuable than the unyielding support of those that love you” Victor thanked the kind words, as he continued… “I’m also deeply sorry for your mother. I had no idea about it”

“Again Count, thank you for such an amicable display of attention” Victor made a gentle vow. “I thought maybe Herr Seward had told you about it”

“Late Quincey refrained from speaking about personal details in his letters. Nevertheless, he did put his hand on the fire for you” said Dracula, with his hand now inside the fire.

Victor’s eyes widened “I beg your pardon…”

“Not literally of course” said Dracula, withdrawing his hand; apparently unfazed by the heat. “That’s an old Romanian way of saying he vouched for you” Victor laughed at his confusion and excused himself. “It’s alright, and if you allow me to return to the subject of the experiment; will this be a good time to reveal the details?” said Dracula.

“But you do know the details already” said Victor, pointing at the Count with an opened palm.

“No, I don’t” Dracula quickly replied. “In your letters, you disclosed your intention; to defeat death, but you didn't reveal the manner on which you will accomplish such endeavor”

“Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I want to defeat death; I simply wish to gain a bigger control over the process” Victor modestly replied. “But you are correct; I never divulged the specifics of how I will do it, and I feel the words won’t be enough to properly explain myself”

“What other means do you require?” asked Dracula.

“I have an item in the room you have provided; one that is of greater importance to my research and work” Victor answered.

“Of course; the mysterious container filled with an unknown liquid” Dracula spoke with a half-smile.

Victor leaned forward abruptly. “How could you tell that?”

“Remain calm sir. I simply heard the fluid moving inside. I have very healthy ears. What I do not possess, is the ability to see through dark fabric, so I’m ignorant of what is inside the box; and as you can tell my friend… I’m dying of curiosity” Dracula smiled eagerly.

Victor returned to the previous position “I see… well, we could simply go to the room and I could show it to you”

“Curious that you mentioned that” said Dracula. “There’s something I want to show you as well, and it’s just after passing by your chambers”

“All right then; should we go now?” Victor leaned forward again.

“Have you finished your drink?” asked Dracula, pointing at the cup.

Victor glanced at it. “I’m sure Romanians love Tuica; but this Swiss gentleman has had enough”

Dracula closed his eyes while smiling. "You will warm up to it”

Both men exited the room, and upon reaching Frankenstein’s bedroom, Victor took the covered package and followed the Count to a near part of the castle, where right in the middle of another hallway, two doors stood facing each other. Dracula opened the door to the left, revealing a big empty room. “Behold and examine this space carefully; as it will be the place where you will set up your laboratory; is it a fitting location?”

Victor took a quick look. “It is; there’s plenty of space to work with”

“That is satisfying to hear” Dracula closed the door, before turning and opening the one on the right. signaling Victor to enter first. Beyond it, laid a massive library, containing the largest bookshelves Frankenstein had ever seen. He studied the room from the bottom to the top; starting with the scarlet carpet covering the floor, to the shelves and numerous books, ending on the painted roof; where vivid frescos depicted a wide variety of angels, demons and other mystical creatures. Victor was stunned at how intricately detailed the images were, as Dracula walked pass him to reach a reading table in the middle of the room. “My friend; I present to you; Castle Dracula’s Library. Here you will find a vast collection of books that I hope served you for knowledge and entertainment. I’m afraid that not all the books are in German or French; as some of the works are ancient; written in old languages and dead tongues”

“If it’s in English, Italian or Spanish, I will be able to read it too” said Victor, setting the container on the table.

Dracula appeared pleasantly surprised. “That is rather impressive. Your father spared nothing nurturing your mind”

“It’s the most valuable of investments” Victor exclaimed.

“Indeed it is” said Dracula. “Are you ready to present your mystery object?”

“I am” Victor carefully untied the thin rope as Dracula waited patiently, maintaining a solid bland expression. Upon removing the strings, he neared his hand to the cloth but hesitated.

“Is everything alright?” asked Dracula, to which Victor gave a warning. “I just hope sir that you can maintain an open mind now; as I’m afraid that what lies beyond the covering, came to my possession by means that are considered illegal in most nations; despite the process being performed consentingly”

Dracula gave a gesture of approval, to which Victor lifted the cloth, revealing a human fetus—no older than sixteen weeks—submerged in a partially translucent golden liquid inside a round-shaped jar. He looked back at the Count, expecting a strong reaction, which never occurred, as Dracula remained unfazed by the sight. Victor stretched his arm in the direction of the jar “Well, here it is; the key to creating life”

“This unborn offspring?” asked Dracula, approaching the table. “Is it somehow alive?”

“Not alive, just preserved. The fluid helps sustain the fetus in the same condition it was when it was first removed from the womb, keeping all the inner particles intact” Victor explained.

“Did you invent this liquid?” Dracula asked with keen tone. Victor nodded, as the Count neared his face to the jar, examining the fetus attentively. “And for how long can you preserve it?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure Count; this fetus has been there for almost two years now. Hypothetically, I could preserve any organic material for decades”

“That is truly remarkable; it’s like a timeless fountain” said Dracula, glancing at the jar again. “But I wonder, why go to such lengths to maintain this undeveloped human?”

“Because its body holds the instruments of life; substances which I can extract to help me create this” Victor placed a hand inside his pocket, from which he removed a small cylindrical bottle containing a bright crimson fluid. He gave the object to Dracula, who examined it thoughtfully, asking him what it was.

Victor quickly explained… “That is the spark; the formula of life. To put it in simple terms, it’s basically blood; but not like the blood you and I possess. It’s a form of artificial blood; capable of bringing back any lifeless being from the clutches of the tomb”

Dracula handed the bottle back, walking around the table in a contemplating posture. “If I understand correctly, by making a dead body drink this elixir, you can make it show signs of life again; to move and walked once more…?”

“Not drink it” Victor clarified while taking a seat by the table. “This amount is not enough to revive a dead person; it takes a lot more and it can only be administrated by performing a medical procedure known as transfusion”

“And how does this method work exactly?” asked Dracula.

As Victor spoke of his work, he grew more excited and expressive in his movements. “By removing the natural blood from the body and injecting the formula under specific conditions, I can make a deceased man live again. What the formula does, in a way, is reverse the process of death, healing the body at the same time. The blood is the life!”

Dracula smiled widely, exposing his perfectly formed white teeth “My dear Frankenstein, I could not agree more with you. And what are these specific conditions you speak of?”

“It involves heat and a small dose of electricity; part of the equipment I brought will be used to reproduce such conditions”

“Of course; and about the revive patients; will they still be themselves after you bring them back?”

“Theoretically, yes” Victor replied.

Dracula turned his head very subtlety. “And in practice…?”

“I… I don’t know” There was a trace of shame in Victor’s voice. “I’ve never had the opportunity to test it on a human, just animals… one animal… a chimpanzee… once”

Dracula approached him “Was the experiment successful?”

Victor lowered his head. “Depends on your definition of success… The creature definitely came back to life, but its behavior was strangely gruesome and its strength violently superior”

Dracula murmured something in a language that was unrecognizable to Frankenstein, before returning to speak German. “Did it die?”

Victor breathed out while clearing his throat. “Yes… it began to bleed out from every cavity on its body before it broke its restrains. I had to shoot it with one of my father’s guns”

“Was this experiment carried out in the Ingolstadt’s university?” asked Dracula.

“No” Victor replied. “My removal from the university was caused by the discovery that I had secretly used one of the medical rooms to end a pregnancy; as I needed another fetus to finish the formula. I was not brought to justice by pure virtue of my family’s reputation. The experiment with the primate was performed in the guess house of the Frankenstein’s villa”

"And what did your father thought of all of this?” asked Dracula.

Victor shook his head wildly “Oh no; my father knows nothing of this and I don’t want him to know; it will horrify him beyond belief. He even believes I was expelled for insulting a professor during a disagreement”

“Hmm… so that’s why you agree to come here so quickly; to be away from his watchful eye?” asked Dracula with a smirk.

“Well… in the event that I have to blow another monkey’s head, he won’t be around to scold me for the noise” Victor drew a childlike smile across his face, and as he and Dracula stared at each other, the Count was unable to contain himself; bursting out laughing soon after. Frankenstein followed suit, filling the library with their loud chuckles as it had not been for decades. Once they both collected themselves, the Count returned to his usually serious demeanor “About this side-effect; do you think it could manifest on a human being?”

“No” Victor gravely replied “It’s not supposed to; I have made new adjustments to the formula; this time it will work; I’m sure of it”

“Good… I wouldn’t want a crazed reanimate corpse running amok through the castle” said Dracula, with a smirk.

“Me neither…” Victor replied, standing up. “And about that Count; how do you exactly plan on obtaining the body?”

“Within the limits of legality of course” answered Dracula.

“But who will this person be?” asked Victor, approaching the Count; who soon explained: "The man is a criminal; soon to be hanged. I have made a deal with him, and he has agreed to allow us to use his body for science, in exchange for taking care of his surviving family. That is permissible by law in this region”

“A criminal…?” Victor inquired. “What was his crime?”

“He assisted with an attempted robbery” Dracula explained. To this, Victor scowled in disbelief. “They are going to hang a man just for that?”

“This is Transylvania Herr Frankenstein; Transylvania is not Geneva. In this land, to steal is to betray; and betrayals are paid with the ultimate currency” There strong seriousness in Dracula’s tone. Victor didn’t protest or questioned the Romanian ways any further, opting to ask his host why he was so interested in helping with this risky undertaking in the first place.

“I thought I had explained that in my letters already, but I will do it again… I am an old man trying to stay relevant in this changing world; nothing more, nothing less. To be part of such an ambitious project will simply be an honor to me” Once again, Dracula avoided eye contact when speaking. The two spoke about the procedure until late at night, when the Count declared it was time for both of them to rest. Upon reaching Victor’s room, he stopped him to say one last thing.

“Sleep well and sound my friend. Tomorrow, a great day waits for us both. Feel free to move around the castle with ease, but let me advise you, that should you leave this room, you must not sleep in any other part of the castle; not even by chance. It’s an old house brimming with bitter memories, and there are queer dreams for those that sleep unwisely”

“I will take that into consideration Count. Have a good evening” said Victor, unfazed by the Count’s warning. He turned to grab the knob on the green door, taking his eyes off Dracula for a brief moment. When he turned back, there was no sign of him. Victor stood by the door, wondering where he had gone. There was little opportunity to consider these matters, as once again his surroundings were filled with the dreadful smell of burned meat. He looked to the other side of the hall, and for a split second, saw a dark figure rapidly hiding over the edge of the wall. He didn’t dared make a sound or movement, expectantly waiting for something to happen. After a good minute had passed, he realized he was alone. Even the stench had disappeared.

Victor entered the room, making sure to lock the door behind him. He seated by the bed, as he thought deeply about what he had seen. Despite the strange oddities and his eccentric host, he felt safe in the castle and was eager for what the next day had to offer. He proceeded to change to his night garments and occupied himself by writing two letters; one for his father, and a special one for his future wife. After this, he went straight to bed, feeling the weight of fatigue possessing him.

As he was about to fall into deep sleep, he opened his eyes in a rush; his pupils growing in size considerably, as an array of epiphanies flooded him. He felt a veil had been removed from his mind, allowing him to remembered things that had previously gone unnoticed. Victor soon began to reconstruct the events of the night; revealing a series of disconcerting details and alarming questionings regarding both the castle, as well as his host.

He clearly remembered the bridge gate lifting when the coach had arrived; allowing them to enter the main grounds; but how could this be possible if there was nobody on the wall? How was Dracula able to open the main door without making a sound? Every room inside the castle was unusually well-lit, and yet, he had not seen a single torch, lamp or candle anywhere; where were these lights coming from? And why was it dark now that he was in bed? Could it be that this place was, by factor of some unknown force, actually alive and sentient?

Then there was Dracula, whose hands were colder than what should be humanly possible. Victor couldn't recall ever hearing his footsteps making noise, his chest moving by the effect of breathing, or his eyes ever producing a single blink. Likewise, he was almost sure to have seen the Count walking without noticing any movement from his legs, and closing doors without actually touching them. Victor had to wonder… who or what was this man?

Worst still was the shade he had seen moments ago. When it happened, Frankenstein could have sworn it was nothing but an incomprehensible mass of darkness; but in hindsight, he was almost sure that it was a person; watching him from around the corner before it retracted back. He was unsure as to why its skin looked so unnaturally dark; finding himself overwhelmed by too many questions and doubts; how could any of these logic-defying things be possible? It had to be something else surely; mental tricks played by an extremely tired mind perhaps...?

He quickly disregarded everything; closing his eyes in hopes that a new morning could bring merrier thoughts. He comforted himself by thinking of Elizabeth; the love and light of his life, until he finally fell asleep. Unknowingly to him, he was being watched now; not by a dark figure, the Count or any other spectral being in the castle. He was in the eye of a much ancient force; one that had been watching him for a long time now; planning, waiting, savoring. It had waited long enough and it was soon coming for its prey; bringing its army of demons with it.

The children of the night were soon coming for Victor Frankenstein.

By RC Lanzmann

From: Dominican Republic

Website: https://theanthologyvault.wordpress.com/

Twitter: RC187001