Dracula

Chapter 6

Lan Fei's expression and entire attitude changed. He calmly replied.

He stood up and looked directly into the doctor's eyes. "Life," he said succinctly, "that's the final conclusion. I need to save my master's life."

The doctor blinked. This was unheard of. "What 'master'? Are you referring to Professor Van Helsing?"

The madman said with extreme contempt, "No, Master! He will come."

"Here? We've come to this mental hospital?"

"Yes!"

"Come to your ward?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"He promised me immortality!"

"What method should we use?"

Chapter Seven

In the Carpathian Mountains, another day begins. In the grey morning light of spring, rain slants against the window of the suite that has become Hack's prison. Below, the courtyard of Dracula's castle remains deserted and abandoned.

Huck woke up in his room, on his bed. For a moment, before he opened his eyelids, he convinced himself that his experiences with the three women were nothing but a dream.

For a fleeting moment—and then, despite how impossible and nightmarish it all seemed, he quickly realized that their embrace was as real as any other experience he had ever had.

His tattered clothes confirmed the reality of this bizarre nightmare, along with the horrifying, seemingly harmless marks on his body—clearly caused by sharp teeth—at least three in total. Even his manhood hadn't been spared.

Under normal circumstances, it's bad enough for an engaged man to be seduced by one woman—or several women. Especially any man Mina loves. But this…!

Overwhelmed by shame and helpless guilt, Huck sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, burying his face in his hands. He was not only struggling with his guilt, but also resisting the joyful memories.

Finally, he rallied his spirits and resolved to face the difficulties head-on, no matter how arduous they were, and overcome them. From this moment on, he must also maintain his self-respect so as not to betray the innocent Mina's deep love for him.

He deduced that the Earl himself must have carried him back to the bed in this room and dressed him. It wasn't just the torn clothes and bruises; many small details also proved that Huck's experience last night was unusual. For example, his watch was unwound, which he always wound before bed. However, his belongings, especially his notebook, seemed untouched—for which he was secretly relieved. He was certain that if the Earl had found the notebook, he would have stolen or destroyed it. Perhaps the Earl had had to rush everything last night for some reason.

Huck took his time showering. Without a mirror, he no longer attempted to shave. Then he changed into the complete clothes he had just taken from his trunk. He knew without looking that breakfast would be laid out on the table in the next room as usual; food on gold or silver platters, and even coffee warming on the fireplace. Clearly, he still had a purpose—to teach the Earl English and instruct him on the ways of England.

He wasn't hungry today.

After getting dressed, he sat at his desk in the living room, taking notes. Hark considered this record a necessary part of his determination to remain sensible. He even recorded his experiences with the three women as objectively and clearly as possible, even though Mina might read his notes later.

Then, an unexpected noise from the courtyard outside the window—the clamor of voices and the rumble of carriages—startled him. He immediately put the pamphlet into the inside pocket of his coat, then went to the window and looked outside.

Huck was astonished to see that the courtyard was no longer deserted. He saw a group of Gypsies—whom Huck learned were called Skaneans here—working diligently, loading several coffin-sized wooden crates—clearly very heavy—on sturdy garbage wagons. Several wagons were linked together, forming a convoy, each pulled by four to six horses. There were three crates, four, one after another. Soon, from the number of wagons, Huck realized there were dozens of crates, all the same size and shape, and all engraved with Dracula's family crest, carried one by one from inside the castle to the courtyard. Huck's window was positioned so that he couldn't see where the crates came from.

The Skaneans chatted merrily as they loaded the goods. Soon after noticing their arrival, Huck leaned out the window and calmly tried to signal to the men below. He hoped one of them would send a heartfelt letter to England, a message to alert his employer to his imprisonment. Unfortunately, only a few workers noticed the man at the window, and they merely laughed at him, ignoring even the coins he held up to try and pique their interest.

This made him tremble with fear and anger. He leaned against the window again, continuing to observe the unusual activity in the courtyard, trying his best to avoid being observed.

There were so many wooden crates; as soon as one wagon was full, it drove off, and another empty wagon pulled it in place. One crate slipped as it was being loaded onto the wagon, and with a powerful impact against the stone pavement, it burst open. Hack saw green, moldy, and seemingly foul-smelling soil spill out, immediately turning into mushy mud, dripping incessantly.

The unexpected incident had a sobering effect on the porters. Their cheerful singing and laughter abruptly ceased, and they frequently turned to look back at the windows above the castle. They were clearly afraid of their employer's wrath. Hack felt that not only them, but even the horses seemed frightened by the spill. The workers hurriedly repaired the damage, found new planks from somewhere to rebuild the crate, and sealed the contents as securely as possible before continuing their work.

Before long, Huck retreated from the window. While the transport of so much moldy soil from Dracula's castle was puzzling, he also had many more pressing problems to face.

Those Gypsies who were loyal to the lord of the fortress were clearly not going to help him. Therefore, he had two choices. First, he could wait in his room, or go to his study, or do something pointless until the rainy day turned to night.

When night falls, the three women will come to him—Hark is certain of this, as if they had made him all sorts of promises. Now that they have established a relationship with him, they will surely come again, laughing and whispering outside the door, promising pleasure once more, using all sorts of methods to seduce him until he yields and opens the door to them…and he knows he will eventually yield.

But the thought that these women might have actually made promises or warned him last night when he was in a helpless, dazed state, chilled him to the bone.

The memories, a mixture of terror, pain, and pleasure, made Huck tremble uncontrollably. But they weren't real women—Mina was. Those three were clearly demons!

The moment he closed his eyes, he would see again the bag the count had thrown in front of them, and he would hear again the muffled sobs coming from it. He could see the long-fingered, pale hand pulling a naked baby out of the bag—whether it was a real memory or an imagination.

But now, in broad daylight, this prisoner still had time to make another choice. He could muster his courage and try to escape via the only route he had seen the count himself take.

Hack could escape by climbing down the city wall.

With calm and clear thinking, Hark could accept this choice, though it was extremely dangerous, practically suicide. But he would rather die at the bottom of the cliff than accept any fate the Count and those three charming yet terrifying women might leave him with.

If he were to attempt to climb down the city wall, it would obviously have to be during the day. And he absolutely could not go in a way that would allow Dracula's loyal Gypsy workers to see him.

Therefore, he had to go to the other side, the side that led directly to the cliff. He had to leave the room now—immediately, right away—before fear and the deadly allure that awaited him that night could erode his resolve.

Needless to say, he couldn't take anything with him except his notebook, a little money, and a few other small items that could fit in his pocket.

On impulse, Huck left the room, not allowing himself any time to hesitate, and once again climbed the stairs leading to the south side of the castle, reaching the window overlooking the steep cliff. From there, he could also see the winding river below; however, the river was so low that, although the current was swift, he could not hear any sound of the flowing water.

A light drizzle pattered on his face. He stood beside the window from which he had once watched the count climb down the city wall.

Now, Huck grips the rain-soaked stone beside the window frame tightly, his arms trembling, looking down to the farthest point below.

The terrain he saw was not as dangerous as he had feared.

In fact, although the surface of the city wall below him dropped vertically, it was not entirely flat and smooth enough to make his attempt truly suicidal. A slightly inward, smooth slope ran from bottom to top, and the rough, protruding stones, along with numerous cracks and crumbling edges, offered him a glimmer of hope; it seemed that even an ordinary person's fingers and toes could find a foothold and climb down. He felt that the first forty to fifty feet would be the most difficult—below that, the stones became more prominent, and his hope grew stronger.

He gritted his teeth and muttered to himself, "If I run into him on the way, I will kill him. If I fail, Mina, goodbye. Goodbye, everything!"

He murmured a prayer, not allowing himself a moment's hesitation, and stepped over the windowsill, mustering his courage and determination, climbing down with firm fingers.

However, his fingers—his only real asset—quickly became useless. Huck had only climbed a few feet down this dreadful path when his fingers gripped the ancient rock.

He let out a desperate cry.

He slid down at an almost vertical angle, his bloodied hands desperately trying to stop himself from falling. He crashed into a huge sluice gate built from the side of the castle, fell into the stagnant mud inside, and came to an abrupt stop.

He spat out the muddy water that had been stuck in his throat and surfaced. He vaguely realized that this bathtub-sized container had probably been the entirety of a rainwater collection system.

The thought of nearly falling to his death sent a chill down Huck's spine as he looked around at the place, which, though temporarily safe, was in fact dangerous. There was no chance to the left or right, only a vertical rock extending a few yards down beside him. Below, the desolate city wall fell straight down to an equally desolate rock, and finally, there was the seemingly endless river.

However, a new possibility has now emerged. From the stone basin where Huck is sheltering, a drainpipe, just wide enough for one person to fit through, extends into the castle. This drainpipe is filled with broken stones and mud, but he can dig away these obstacles. As he digs desperately, the muddy water that had just saved his life gurgles away.

He had no other choice. Huck prayed silently again and climbed headfirst into the drainpipe.

After many obstructions and sharp turns, the passage led him downwards. Through cracks in the rocks of a broken, erotic field, through darkness and stench, he plummeted through countless twists and turns. Spiderwebs brushed against his face, and rats and other creatures scurried away from him. Hard, rough stones scraped his knees and elbows, tearing his already soaked shirt and trousers.

Down, all the way down.

Finally, Hark realized he had fallen such a great distance that he should now be at the same level as Midgard. He thought that if he appeared before those mocking Gypsies, they would likely not survive, for they were clearly extremely loyal to his deadly enemy.

Now walk slowly and quietly!

Huck crawled forward very carefully, trying not to make any noise.

Finally, God, or Lady Luck, or some unknowable force seemed to be smiling at him. Haq managed to avoid the Gypsies and climbed out of the city walls through a large crack in the thick stone wall. However, he wasn't in the courtyard, but in a large room that wasn't too dark in the indirect sunlight, which gave Haq hope; he thought the outdoors and the possibility of freedom must be within reach.

But be careful! Huck straightened up, touching his bleeding knees and elbows. He could hear the Gypsies singing clearly. But their voices were far enough away that they posed no immediate danger to him.

Huck stretched his limbs, which had been compressed during his descent, and cautiously looked around. He quickly realized that the dimly lit room fate had brought him to must have once been a chapel. He thought the place looked very old, probably dating back to the fifteenth century or even earlier.

Many parts of the walls were honeycomb-shaped, and Hack quickly realized that these must be ossuaries, tombs on the ground. In front of a tall window with its glass still intact, there was a simple altar supporting a huge wooden cross, with the word "Dracula" carved on the front of the altar.

The large cross was still stained with dried blood. As Huck gazed at the abandoned cross, tears welled in his eyes, and he touched his own neck, where the small silver cross had been lost.

Several sections of the room's floor had cracked long ago, revealing the dark, almost lifeless soil beneath. Someone had recently dug into the exposed soil—because a new type of shovel and a hoe were found on the ground.

Moreover, many strange wooden crates resembling coffins were laid out on the floor, clearly waiting to be loaded onto wagons. One of the crates, like the others, had a lid, but it was not yet nailed shut and was placed alone a little distance away from the others.

Now, just a few yards away, Huck could hear the Gypsies shouting to each other as they nailed the crates and loaded them onto the wagon. He could hear the wagon wheels rolling over the gravel road and the crack of whips.

As Huck looked around, searching for the best opportunity to escape, his gaze was drawn to a strange glimmer in the sunlight. Right where the floor had cracked open, revealing the earth, there was something yellow. Huck cautiously and silently moved closer, bending down to pick up the first gold coin—whose mintage was unknown—and then the second. Thinking these coins might come in handy during his escape, he quickly gathered a small handful from the ground.

When he realized the Gypsies' conversation had suddenly grown louder, it was almost too late. He quickly jumped up and hid in a hollow in the wall. A moment later, several Gypsies came in through the chapel door, muttering to themselves, and together they lifted a wooden box and carried it out.

As soon as they stepped outside, Huck burst out of his hiding place. At this moment, his curiosity outweighed his urge to escape.

Huck walked to the unsecured coffin and forcefully lifted the lid. He stared at the contents inside, too shocked to move.

Dracula, dressed in a magnificent robe embroidered with gold and silver, was glaring back at him.

After a terrifying moment, Huck realized that although the person in the coffin had eyes facing him, they were not seeing him.

However, there is no doubt that the one lying on the black soil inside the coffin is Count Dracula himself, just like an ordinary person lying on a soft and comfortable bed.

Hark slowly recovered from the shock of the discovery, realizing that the Earl was either dead or asleep—he wasn't sure which, for the Earl's open eyes held neither lifelessness nor the blankness of death. His face, though pale, seemed to retain a life-giving warmth; his lips were bright red, as if still stained with blood, dripping from the corners. Even the muscles around his burning eyes were lifelike… But the Earl showed no reaction to his act of opening the coffin lid, not even a twitch.

Hark's breathing became rapid, a mixture of fear and hatred churning within him. He leaned down, forcing himself to examine his discovery more closely. Indeed, Hark felt that the horrible demon seemed engorged with blood—like a filthy leech, exhausted after sucking its fill of blood.

Huck mustered all his courage and moved closer to the man—or humanoid figure—lying on the black earth in the coffin, trying to find any sign of life, but to no avail. His hand on Dracula's chest found no pulse, no breath, no heartbeat.

Then, Huck bravely began to search the ornate robe for pockets, hoping to find the key—but to no avail. He looked closely at the dead eyes and noticed that although they ignored his presence, they revealed an incredibly deep hatred, causing Huck to instinctively back away.

As he retreated, his fear gradually turned into anger.

He, Huck, is helping this man—this monster—transfer to London, so that for centuries to come, this monster will be among millions, satisfying its bloodlust and creating an ever-expanding circle of half-demons to ravage the helpless…

Go to London to where Mina, that innocent and trusting girl, lives...

Huck backed away from the open coffin, sobbing and groaning softly from the sudden surge of anger and fear. He grabbed a shovel beside him, intending to strike the pale, lifeless face with its sharp edge with all his might.

But at that moment, those eyes suddenly turned to Huck's face. The Earl's gaze fell on the threatening man, making the latter seem to lose all his strength.

The shovel clattered to the ground from Huck's hands. Huck stumbled backward, crashing into the half-collapsed wall that held the remains of countless bones. He was immediately grabbed by something—no, several things—they pinched and twisted these root-like things attached to the wall, growing outwards… They clung to Huck's clothes, one by one…

Huck looked down, puzzled, and saw a few small, white fingers gripping his leg.

In his terror, he realized that he had once again fallen into the alluring clutches of those three vampire women.

Now he could hear and recognize their drowsy murmurs. Their six white-haired arms reached out from the tomb to embrace him. Their little fingers and sharp nails lazily gripped his clothes and his body.

Huck could clearly hear the youngest bride's sweet voice, whispering seductively from her burial chamber: "Don't leave us, you want us tonight."

The laughter of the three brides rang out like silver bells.

He knew that if his faith wavered even slightly, the wicked pleasures he had experienced on that soft bed would once again belong to him…

Huck continued to groan, struggling to break free of the clinging hands. Then he ran almost blindly, avoiding the gate of the Gypsy's work, searching in the dim light for another direction—a collapsed wall.

He squeezed through the narrow gap, running for his life, falling down, getting up, and running again.

Now, he had finally reached a place where there were no more stone walls. He could feel the clean raindrops hitting his face. Here, the laughter he heard belonged to humans. Maniacal laughter, but it was definitely human.

The laughter continued until he collapsed from exhaustion and could no longer hear it.

Chapter Eight

Weeks later, on a sweltering early August day, Mr. Lamfey, a former lawyer at the law firm of Hawking and Tonkin, grew increasingly restless in his room at Puffley Asylum. That day, even his hobbies—his pets, the flying insects, spiders, and islands that he was usually so fascinated by—no longer held any interest for him.

All afternoon, Lan Fei stared at the window of the ward with its bars on, gazing at the sky, showing no reaction to the doctors or nurses who visited him, or the occasional shouts from his fellow patients.