Dracula (A Modern Telling) (9 page)

I got up in the middle of the night because I heard noises and I went to check on her (she’s staying with me now in Boston and has come back from New York). She wasn’t in her room. Sometimes she goes down to the kitchen so I went down there but she wasn’t there either. Then I saw that the backdoor was open. I ran outside calling out to her. I ran up through the garden and saw this stone table we sometimes use for picnics. Some black figure was there
with a white figure. I ran up, thinking it might be Lucy, and the black figure was definitely something and it was bent over the white figure which I could see now was indeed Lucy. The black figure saw me and looked up but I couldn’t tell if it was some kind of animal or what. I glanced to Lucy and when I looked back, the animal was gone.

I ran up to Lucy and she was cold, almost like ice. I ripped off my pajama top and put it on her. She kept grabbing at her throat like she was in pain and there was some blood there. I think she must’ve cut herself on some of the rose bushes.

I know you said to never wake her, but I was so scared that I had to. Slowly, she came to her senses. I brought her inside, basically carrying her. I laid her down in the bed and she kept grabbing at her throat like she was in pain. I looked at the cuts and they’re deep.

But the next day she seemed okay. The thing is, we went out to a club and we were waiting in line to get in and this guy was
standing across the street. It was like, just some guy I’d never seen before and Lucy said the weirdest thing:

“His red eyes again. They are just the same.”

I looked to her and she was in this like, half awake half asleep, dreamy phase. I looked back to the man across the street and he was gone. When I started talking to Lucy about it, it was like she snapped out of some dream.

We went to the club and she disappeared for a long time and when she came back she was in her dreamy state again. There was blood on her dress and I saw it was from those cuts on her
throat which don’t seem to heal.

I’m really worried about her, Dr. Palmer. It seems like the sleepwalking is getting worse and I’m worried she’s cutting herself. Those wounds on her neck look like she jabbed them into her flesh herself and, like I said, they don’t heal so I think she’s doing it everyday.

Please let me know what you would like to do. I’ve spoken to Lucy’s mother and she’s fine with a commitment but I would like to avoid that if possible. Let’s just save that as a last resort.

Is there anything you can do to help?

HOLY
CROSS OF MERCY MEDICAL CENTER

12 North Medical
Center, Bel Air, CA 90077

Dear Ms. Murray,

I have left two voicemails and haven’t heard anything back. This letter is to inform you that we have a Mr. Jonathan Harker here at our hospital in Los Angeles. He’s been in our critical care ward for almost a week but is out now and recuperating. He was diagnosed with stroke and it was accompanied by an intense fever, but he’s doing better now and there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage other than portions of his hair going grey, which he informed us was not so just a short while ago.

When I told him you didn’t answer your phone he asked that I write this letter as quickly as I could. He should be released in the next few days.
He has asked that you join him here.

Yours with sympathy and blessings,

Sister Agatha

DR. SEWARD’S EVERNOTE JOURNAL

August 19

A sudden change occurred in Renfield last night. At about eight in the evening he grew excited and I was told he was bouncing around his cell and shouting. He kept saying, “You don’t count any more. The master is at hand.”

The orderlies here know that I have a scholarly interest in him and they called me. I was on a date at the time, so I did what any gentleman would do and came down to the hospital. He kept screaming about “The Master” and I immediately thought of religious mania. Inside a man who’s prone to violent outbursts, religious mania can be an extremely dangerous thing because anything c
an be justified.

I will say that he didn’t seem to notice the difference
between myself and any of the orderlies and didn’t address us by name. I guess the difference from one man to the next doesn’t matter to an omnipotent being.

I watched him bounce around his cell for half an hour. My date, Mary something, grew bored and so I called her a cab. I’m guessing there won’t be a second date.

I sat with Renfield in his room when he had calmed down. The difference was so sudden it made me genuinely afraid and I made sure an orderly was standing right outside.

Renfield got
a shiftiness in his eyes, not sure how better to explain it than that, and then sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. After a few moments, I started trying to talk to him. I asked him about his pets, usually a subject he loves talking about.

“I don’t give a shit about them,” he said, his voice flat. “You can do what you want with them.”

“Really? Not even your spiders?”

He said, “The bride maidens rejoice the eyes that wait the coming of the bride.”

He wouldn’t explain what he meant by this and started this slow rocking back and forth. I just couldn’t take any more. I wasn’t feeling well and I had expected some affection tonight from the date I was on but it looks like it’s another night alone for me. I’ve been taking Ambien to help me sleep but have been having the most awful dreams and I’m hesitant to take it now. Better no sleep than sleep filled with nightmares.

So I went home and lay in my bed for probably two hours just staring at the ceiling.
I don’t think people who can sleep normally understand how difficult life is for those of us that can’t. You never feel refreshed and you have this gray, heavy weight around your neck from exhaustion all the time.

But tonight it turned out to be a good thing that I couldn’t sleep.

At about one in the morning I got a call from the hospital saying Renfield had escaped. I threw on some clothes and rushed down there as quick as I could. The orderlies were all standing around talking about how it could’ve happened.

“Dr. Seward,” one of them said, “I think it was the window.
Look at it, it’s all damaged. I bet he slid through the window.”

Some of the orderlies had taken off
after him through the front door and were scouring the neighborhood but I thought the quickest way to find him was to follow him out the way he had left. I was the thinnest man there so I had the orderlies help me out the window. It wasn’t far off the ground so I went feet first and landed outside.

“He went to the left,” one of the orderlies shouted.

I jogged at a brisk pace and at the far end of the property saw a figure dressed in the white gown of our hospital. It must’ve seen me because it bolted directly for the wall separating the hospital from the property next door, which is a foreclosed vacant house.

I ran b
ack and told the orderlies which direction he was going and then I ran after him and climbed up the fence myself. I saw the figure running down the street and I chased him for about a block until we got to this old church. I followed him around the building and saw him pressed up against a massive oak door. He was talking to someone.

“I’ve worshipped you my whole life,” he said. “I’ve done everything that you wanted. I will do everything that you ask me to. I’ll be your slave but you won’t pass me by when you give out good things, will you Master?”

The orderlies arrived and we had him trapped. Someone asked if we should call the police but I said no, we could handle him ourselves. But I did wish later that we had called the police because he fought like a cornered tiger. I’ve never seen a patient with so much anger and hatred.

But we finally got him sedated and brought him back to the hospital. I’ve had to place restraints on him in case he thought about escaping again or hurting himself. I tried speaking with him but he just kept saying, “Master, master!
It’s coming coming coming. Master!”

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Jonathan

Date: August 24, 2012

Lucy, I can’t even tell you how relieved I am to be in California with Jonathan. The flight was fine except for a male stewardess that was really rude to me for some reason. But it didn’t matter when I saw Jonathan for the first time. I ran up to him and hugged him and kissed him and just held him for a long time. He looked so thin and pale that I was worried he was malnourished and told him I was taking him out for salads and burgers.

He says he doesn’t remember much about what happened. It’s funny that men think they can lie to us and we can’t tell. But he doesn’t want to talk about it for some reason and I’m not going to press him on it.

The next day he was doing better and could speak clearly whereas, according to the nurses, he was ranting and raving like some crazy person for the past few days. But when he sat up yesterday, he took my hand and he kissed it and said the only thing that got him through the past few weeks was the thought that I might be his wife. I felt so emotional I started crying like a fifth grader and we kissed and held each other a long time. Then he asked that I grab his stuff off the shelf. I did and he took out his Macbook from a backpack and opened it to a blogging app.

“Everything is in here,” he said. “I don’t want you to read it. I don’t want you to know anything about what I’ve been through and I don’t want to relive it. I don’t even know how much of it is true. The doctor told me I might’ve had a stroke and there could’ve been hallucinations from seizures. But I want to forget it, as much of it as quickly as possible.”

I closed his Mac. “I trust you. I don’t need to know and I don’t care. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

He kissed me and said, “Let’s get married.”

“We are.”

“No, I mean now. Right now. They have a little chapel here and a priest.”

I didn’t even need to think about it. It just felt right. So I said yes.

So I’m married now Lucy! I’m so sorry you couldn’t be here but I knew you’d understand of all people. It was a little wedding with the nurses and the priest and it was absolutely beautiful. We’ll have to do a reception for my family, but this was enough for me.

I’m going to email you again soon but Jonathan’s waking up. I have to go check on my husband (it’s so weird to say that)!!!

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject:
re: Jonathan

Date: August 24, 2012

OMG!!!! 
mina!!! you’re crazy, i love it!!!! i can’t wait to see you guys. you’ll be happy to know arthur’s here and is taking care of me. we’re taking long walks and going to bars and hanging out and partying and relaxing. we’ll do a double date when you get in.

Love ya,

Lucy

DR. SEWARDS EVERNOTE JOURNAL

August 20

I know I have other patients and I know they deserve my attention and my thoughts, but I can’t seem to focus on them. Renfield is just so unusual I can’t help but be fascinated by him.

A week after his escape attempt, he was extremely violent and the staff couldn’t feed him because he kept gassing them, making an awful mixture of feces and urine and throwing it at their faces when they’d come into his cell. But he’s quieted down a lot the past couple of days and is in his room right now as I write this, mumbling to himself.

August 22

Renfield has been violent the past couple days. He’s fine throughout the day and night and then right before dawn he starts screaming and biting at his restraints. We’ve had to sedate him each morning.

Augus
t 23

Renfield escaped again.
He waited until a guard opened the door to his room and somehow he had gotten free of his straps. He pushed past the guard and sprinted out of the hospital. We had orderlies searching the neighborhood, but on a hunch I went to that church down the street. He was in the same place, talking to no one. The orderlies ran up and he didn’t fight. He just said he would go quietly.

Lucy
‏
@
LWestbabygir
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‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Uggghhh, feeling so sick.
Worst part the nightmares :( Oh well, at least I don’t have to go into work

To: [email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Lucy’s sick