Dracula (A Modern Telling) (8 page)

July 5

One of the orderlies came to me today and told me that Renfield is really sick. We went and checked him out. Feathers were all over the room and drops of blood were over his bed. I noticed there were no pigeons anywhere.

I’ve ordered his dosages of thorazine be increased and gave him some triazolam to get him to sleep tonight.

I have thirty-one patients here under my care but Renfield is the one I seem to spend the most time with. I think I’ve come up with a new diagnosis for him as well: zoophagous paraphilia. The stages of this syndrome, which I’m excited to say has not be catalogued in the DSM IV, begins in childhood where the subject is exposed to some event
where the child is sexually excited by a severe injury involving blood, or by the ingestion of blood.

At puberty, this obsession becomes fused with sexual fantasies and the subject turns to autovampirism. That is, they will begin drinking their own blood. At that point, when the excitement of their own blood fades, they’ll move on to other living creatures. It seems to have a fetishistic and
obsessive-compulsive element to it. I’ve run across only a few cases in the medical literature. To think that I have a patient suffering from this right here in my ward is, I’m a little embarrassed to say, very exciting. It’s much more rare than lightning striking or a shark attack or even winning the lottery to have someone with this syndrome locked permanently away in a place where they can be studied.

I would love to carry out some experiments and see how far Renfield’s willing to go, how deep his pathology is affected by blood and flesh obsession. But the types of experiments I would want to do may not sit well with the ethics board. But the advancement in this field of research we could gain from just even a cursory examination of Renfield
… I’ll have to give this more thought.

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Jonathan

Date: July 9, 2012

Hey Lucy. I got an email from Jonathan saying he’s starting for home. It was really weird though and he didn’t talk about anything he’s seen or what we’re going to do when he gets back. It was like one sentence. I feel kinda anxious about it.

I heard Art’s coming up when you get back? That’s exciting. I like Art the most of any of the guys you’re dating. He’s always such a gentleman. So is it getting serious between you two? I know you said you weren’t looking to settle down and pop out a bunch of kids, but if I didn’t have my Jonathan I would jump at the chance for a boyfriend like Art.

I was thinking the other day about your sleepwalking. Do you think it has anything to do with the Ambien you’ve been taking? I mean I remember you doing it when we were in high school but were you taking anything then too? It just seems weird that out of nowhere you would start up again. I think what we should do is lock your bedroom door and make sure there’s nothing in there that you can hurt yourself with. I’ve talked to your mom and that’s what she thinks we should do too (sorry, she called me and was really worried about you).

I went out for a walk today and sat on this bench near a park. This old man was sitting on the bench next to me and he began mumbling to himself. He said that life is just waiting for something other than what we’re doing and that death is the only thing we can count on. He turned to me and said death is coming. He was a really nice
-looking old man but what he said creeped me out. I had to leave.

Please let me know when you’re home so I can see your sweet face. I could really use the cheering up right now!!! ;)

TRAVELEOLOGUE

The Travel Blog
: By Michael Petris

August 8
th
,

To my dear readers following my humble adventures through this blog, I say, welcome! It’s been a few weeks since I posted from my trip in Kenya and I’ve taken a new direction now, going out to sea. For those of you reading this blog for the first time, your humble narrator is attempting to visit every country by sea. So far, fifty-eight countries have been visited in the span of two years. Not bad, not bad.

But I was out today
over the Gulf of California and we were hit by a storm you wouldn’t believe. Saturday was totally fine, not a cloud in the sky. I was chilling by the pool of the hotel with a hottie and sipping margaritas. But on Sunday we’re in the Gulf and the crew are panicked. They said they saw something called “mares tails” in the sky. Apparently it’s a type of cloud formation indicating a storm, though none of the weather reporting bureaus had indicated that a storm should be nearby.

I have to say though, as the storm approached it was sometime near evening and the sun was setting. It was painting
silhouettes in the sky, and the clouds were colors I’d never seen. I mean I’ve seen them individually, but never all together like that. They were pink and red and orange and purple and gold. I had to just sit out on the deck, despite the captain’s warning about staying in our cabins, and just admire their beauty.

For those of you that have never experienced a storm at sea, I’ll explain it to you (after all, that’s why you’re reading this blog).

The first thing you notice about a coming storm is the silence. The air grows completely still to the point that if a dog is barking on land a mile away you’ll hear it on the ship. Then the air grows charged, like it’s carrying a vibrant electrical charge, and you can actually feel the difference in it on your skin. After that, the silence slowly begins to break because of a distant booming. The booming grows louder and louder and the anticipation is enough to kill you.

As rapidly as the booming starts, the storm breaks just as rapidly without warning. The waves begin to churn and fall over each other until water that was perfectly still grows into a violent, devouring monster.

That’s when the wind kicks in. It was so powerful I saw 200 pound crew members barely able to keep on their feet.

I’ve experienced all this before. But one thing I hadn’t experienced was the
sea-fog. White, wet, billowing clouds came pouring in and over the land, so damp and icy my clothes felt like they’d just been through a cold shower. And then as it rolled over us, we could see lightning in the distance, and the thunder would shake the boat.

The storm grew so violent we had to head for the nearest pier. Luckily, the Mexican mainland was
n’t too far and we found a pier that let us dock. That’s when we noticed the ship off in the distance. It was about a quarter of a league out and heading straight for us. It would disappear in the sea-fog and as the clouds parted we’d see it again. Everyone was on the deck now, watching the ship. It didn’t respond to any hails so we just stood on the deck like kids watching an inevitable accident (the same thrill I would get when my brother would try and jump off the roof onto a trampoline).

As the ship neared, no one could see any crew on the decks. The captain thought he saw someone near the port side
, and as we looked closer we saw it was a corpse lashed to the ship.

You didn’t misread that: a corpse was tied to the ship.
How did we know it was a corpse? We didn’t until later. At the time, we thought it was a mannequin.

The ship passed by and no one attempted to stop it. How could we? It was barreling forward at top speed. We notified the coast guard and I hope they were able to stop it to see if anyone was on
board and whether they needed anything. A few people on the deck had snapped photos and we looked at them on their smart-phones. The man’s hands were definitely tied together and to a metal rod sticking out of the ship. He was holding something but none of us could tell what. One of the women, an older one, said it was a crucifix but it was too difficult to tell.

We were abl
e to trace the ship based on its name. And get this my bloggie doggies: it’s a Russian ship. What the @#$$! A Russian ship in Mexican waters. The Reds are going
Hunt for Red October
on us. I heard from one of the crew that the manifest of the ship had stated they were just carrying boxes of dirt. Why would anyone need that?

That isn’t the weirdest part. As the storm passed the next day we started on our journey but
all anyone could talk about was this ship we’d seen. We kept digging around. We found an actual log from the ship that had been sent to us by the Russian embassy (my guess is they meant to send it to the coast guard).

Now, I probably shouldn’t have read that email but I’ve been on this ship for over six weeks and have made some good friends on the crew. So, after a few games of poker, and many more shots of tequila, one of the crew opened up the email with the log so we could see it
and, of course, I just happened to forward it to myself. I’ve reprinted here for your eyes only, and please note we had to translate this with Google Translate so it may not be perfect:

LOG OF THE DEMETER: Varna to the Gulf of Mexico

July 6: Finished dropping off cargo from previous job. Crew: five hands, two mates, two cooks and myself.

July 11: Entered Bosphorus at dawn. Customs officials had to board. Everything good.

July 12: Through Dardanelles. More customs official. Want us on way soon.

July 13: Pass Cape Matapan. Crew seems uneasy but won’t tell me why.

July 16: Picked up new cargo in Los Angeles: earth and crates.

July 18
: Mate ask crew what wrong. Crew only say something is on ship. One man make sign of cross and carry cross with him. All else silent for night.

July 19
: Petrofsky, one of crew, has gone missing. Relieved of duty for the night but did not show up at bunk. Men say something is aboard with us.

July 21
: One of crew came to me and said he saw a man onboard my ship. He was a tall man in black leather pants and a leather jacket. He walked from the back of the ship to the front. My crewman follow him but did not see where he went. I promised crewman we will search ship from stern to stern. Mate thinks this is bad idea but I think would make men happy. We search ship and found nothing. Crew seems in better mood.

July 24
: Bad weather past three days. Men working too hard to be frightened. Praised them all on their work in the harsh weather.

July 25
: Another man has gone missing. Came off his shift like Petrofsky and was not seen again. The men are frightened and want two men at a time as they are frightened to be alone. The first mate is worried violence break out. When men scared, they get violent.

July 28:
Fierce storm, no one can get any sleep. The ships flies from side-to-side.

July 29: Another missing man. Had to go single man to a watch as the crew too tired for doubles. I called all men together. We will carry weapons and never be alone again.

July 30: Rejoiced that we are nearing Mexico. Have been off course past six days somehow. Perhaps storms affect instruments. Radio communication impossible through storms. Only five men on ship now. Everyone work quietly and don’t speak to each other.

August 1: Heard man cry out in the middle of night. I rose and went outside. It was so much fog I couldn’t see and ran into first mate. He said he heard cry too. The fog seems to move with us and we are not sure exactly where we are. Lord
help us.

August 2: Went to relieve man on watch and no one was there. I called for the mate and he came up in his sleeping clothes. He came to me and said, “I have seen him.
In the night. Tall and with muscles and wearing leather. I have seen him. I think he is down in those boxes. I will open them and cut him.” He pulled out knife and went down below. I think he is going crazy but I hear him scream. He ran up to me and say, “He is there! You must come with me, Captain.” Before I could grab him he jump into the ocean.

This man, this man has been killing my crew and now jump
into the ocean. He is crazy. He is the killer. How am I to explain at port and customs where my crew is?

August 3: I see him. He is man,
good-looking but white as paper. He walks my ship at night. I will not leave helm. I will tie my hands here. I wish I could jump into ocean but I am captain. I cannot leave my ship. I will die here.

Holy f’ing crap. How crazy is that? Of course, it could just be, and probably is, some sort of hoax. Now that I think about it the man tied to the ship didn’t actually look that real. I’ll bet the crew wanted to pull one over on us and tied him there and hid below deck.

Still h
ave to say though, that this has been one heck of a journey so far.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Lucy’s Sleepwalking

Date: August 9, 2012

Hi Dr. Palmer, it’s Mina Murray. I just wanted to send you this quick note about Lucy. I know we’ve had her in treatment now for over a year because of her sleepwalking but the other night was worse than most and I just wanted to tell you about it.