Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing, Dr. Sharma, Yanini Sharma
Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
@hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @dragatha @ladyhaley28
‘When you travel alone, you should expect… accidents.’
‘Yes, probably, you should.’
Breathing heavily, Agatha stared at the retreating man`s back. Another couple of minutes on deck in the dark with this... person and things could have ended badly. Agatha frowned darkly. Of course, for him. The passenger who appeared as if out of nowhere and offered her help turned out to be very handy. The bastard ran away. Agatha straightened her skirt and adjusted the silver brooch at her throat. She should have chosen a more expensive ship, she thought angrily. She turned to the man standing next to her.
‘Not at all!’ was the reply.
‘Are we not introduced to each other?’
Smiling briefly, her savior leaned towards her hand.
And it`s just the first evening, Agatha thought as she watched the light of the sidelights reflected in the dark water. Four weeks of sailing ahead.
She remembered the anxious whispers of the crew as she and two other passengers – a young lady and an old madam – boarded the ship. ‘Woman ... woman on board – bad luck.’
Bad luck, breathing in the sea air and feeling her usual excitement and stubbornness returning to her, Agatha thought mockingly. Let`s see.
‘Have you already had dinner?’ she asked the Count, who looked up at her with eyes as dark as water.
‘No,’ he chuckled. ‘But I've worked up an appetite.’
‘Does this fog seem strange to you too?’
Agatha, who had leaned over the side and stared at the outlines of the waves below, straightened up. She raised her head. The silhouettes of the soaring gulls blurred and melted in the yellowish haze surrounding the ship.
Count Dracula looked the same as the night before, cheerful and happy with life. Agatha shrugged.
‘I heard the sailors gossip about it.’
‘'Dark forces'!’ Dracula laughed. ‘Do you believe in dark forces?’
‘I saw them,’ Agatha said thoughtfully. ‘Those sailors wouldn`t like them, though.’
‘Are they too ordinary for our sailors?’
She shot Dracula a surprised look.
‘As your future husband is, for example?’
Frowning, Agatha looked at Dracula. The evening, when he ... helped her, they spent together – in the wardroom. It was boring and noisy there, but generally tolerable. Of course, if you ignore Lord Ruthven and his companion Adisa. The first, despite the recent harassment of the illustrious gentleman, was quite simple. But the lamentations of Adisa, who endlessly demanded the most expensive, then the very best, from the sailor delivering food, drove her mad. He should have made up his mind already, Agatha thought with irritation, ordering coffee. Dracula, contrary to his words about working up an appetite, did not eat anything. Soon they were carried away by the conversation, and Agatha completely forgot about the other passengers.
But now she remembered that she had not told him about the purpose of her trip, or about where she was going, or about her future husband.
‘How did you know that I was going to the fiancé?’
‘You hurt yourself at the table,’ he said at last. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘It`s all right,’ said Agatha. ‘A scratch. It`s nothing.’
‘Blood is not nothing,’ said Dracula. A shadow passed over his face, like a memory that stung him for a brief moment. ‘Blood is lives.’
A seagull on the left, overboard, having sunk into the water, with a slight splash grabbed a gaping fish.
‘I didn`t mention my future husband,’ Agatha insisted.
‘Perhaps you did it unwittingly,’ Dracula raised an eyebrow. ‘It doesn`t look like,’ he hesitated, ‘that he is occupying your thoughts or that you ... rush to him.’
‘Marriage is not always a romantic venture,’ Agatha shrugged. She let go of the railing and moved along the side. Dracula offered her his hand.
‘Young Dorabella would not agree with you.’
‘Is that why her husband attacks women in the dark?’
Dracula looked at her closely.
‘My future husband is a damn ordinary one,’ Agatha said.’And it`s damn convenient, believe me.’
‘Something tells me you didn`t always think that way.’
‘No, I did not. It`s a pity. When my father convinced me twenty years ago that marriage is a great deal if done right, I almost hit him.’
‘What has happened since then?’
‘Since then, I had lived.’
Dracula looked at her for a long time and then laughed.
‘It`s getting cold,’ he said, ‘let`s go. You`ll drink coffee.’
‘Still, you are right. This fog is strange.’
Dracula, sitting at the table across from Agatha, grunted something indefinite. Agatha gave him a thoughtful look.
‘Fogs of such strength and density are not typical for these latitudes. Besides,’ Agatha hesitated, ‘it is too stubborn. It has been with us since Bistritz. It`s like … following us.’
‘Following? What kind of crazy drama is that?’
Candles burning above their table cast shadows on the crimson wall paneling. Dracula sat across from Agatha, his glass and plate as empty as before.
‘That`s what the sailors say.’ Agatha shrugged. ‘It`s rude and vulgar, I will not argue. However, it does not negate the fact,’ she took a cup of coffee from the table, ‘that it is true. The ship is literally moving in the fog. Or rather, the fog goes near it. It is clear for many miles behind us, as well as for many miles ahead.’
Dracula narrowed his eyes.
‘I saw the captain`s log.’
‘You stole it?’ Dracula asked politely.
‘Well, of course. Who would let a passenger, especially a woman, read it?’
Sparks of hot interest lit up in Dracula`s eyes.
‘It seems to me,’ he said softly, ‘the said woman is concerned about more than the fog.’
‘You are right,’ said Agatha. She frowned.
Turning away from Dracula, she looked to where a dim light flickered from time to time in the portholes in the darkness of the night.
‘Passengers,’ she said slowly. ‘Passengers are sick. Ever since we went out to sea.’
‘Seasickness is not uncommon.’
She turned to Dracula. Then glanced briefly at the cook who was serving dinner.
‘It`s not seasick. However, the symptoms are similar. Severe pallor, dizziness, weakness. Worsened appetite. Dorabella complained that her husband slept separately. Dr. Sharma has lost weight and cannot eat asparagus. The captain has nightmares. He told me himself,’ Agatha added in response to Dracula`s raised eyebrow.
‘He confessed.’ The Count was obviously holding back a laugh.
‘I wouldn`t blame illness for Lord Ruthven not wanting to share the bed of love with Dorabella,’ Dracula said, smiling lightly.
‘Obviously,’ Agatha winced. ‘Although in this case, everything may have coincided. I`m not stupid, you know. She paused. ‘I know the symptoms of blood loss.’
Now she was staring straight at Dracula. He shrugged nonchalantly.
‘Paleness, lack of appetite, and weakness,’ Agatha listed again. ‘Weight loss. Irritability.’
Dracula looked at her silently.
‘And, the composition of the passengers. It is interesting.’
Leaning back in her chair, Agatha laced her fingers.
‘There are three young men on the ship, two of whom are of an alien race, a young woman, an old lady with a great genealogy and biography, a girl who can only communicate in sign language –’
The word fell abruptly, like an icicle to the bottom of a glass. Agatha stopped.
‘And me,’ she repeated slowly.
‘What do you want to tell me, Miss Van Helsing?’
‘Such different people,’ Agatha shook her head. ‘And they all have the same symptoms?’
‘You are resistant to the virus.’
A strange feeling, like from wine or from a sharp breath, stirred inside Agatha. The face of the man in front of her was impenetrable and calm.
‘I know what you are doing,’ Agatha said.
‘What do you want?’ he asked.
‘Your dinner will get cold. Finish it and come to me.’ He got up. ‘I`m in the cabin number four.’
‘So simple?’ Raising her head, Agatha watched him leave the table.
‘There must be an escape route. Otherwise, it`s not interesting,’ he answered and left.
After a moment`s thought, Agatha followed his advice and returned to her plate.
It was cool in Dracula`s cabin – the wind penetrated the half-open porthole. Approaching it, Agatha looked out, pushing back the thick curtain. The cabin looked uninhabited – no personal belongings, no suitcases, everything seemed untouched for many days.
‘Looks like you hardly ever come here.’
‘This is wrong.’ Dracula uncorked a bottle of wine and filled half the glass on the table.
Agatha looked at him questioningly.
‘Let’s just say, I`m resting here. Miss Van Helsing,’ he said as he sat down in an armchair, ‘don`t take this as rudeness, but may I ask what exactly you want from me?’
Stepping away from the porthole, Agatha reached for the glass of wine. Taking it, she turned it over in her hands and set it aside.
‘And yet you understand.’
Turning around, Agatha moved away from the table and sat down in a chair opposite Dracula. For some time she silently looked at the Count.
‘You know, I was born in Holland.’
‘In the family of a rich farmer,’ Agatha continued. ‘Since I was a child, I have never been denied anything. Walks, nannies, toys. I had everything. My father adored me.’ She spread her hands. ‘The only thing I was deprived of – like other girls in our village, on our street, all the girls I knew – the right to study and comprehend new things.’
Dracula listened to her, tilting his head.
‘A decent woman of my league, a woman like my own mother,’ said Agatha, ‘was not supposed to do this. We should have looked for a husband or gone to a monastery.’
She fell silent. The salty air from the porthole tickled her nostrils.
‘Have you gone to a monastery?’ Dracula asked.
‘I ran away with a neighbor.’
‘He`s fine,’ she smiled. ‘He let me do science. He had money – on which we lived for some time, first in Paris, then – in Vienna and Salzburg.’ Agatha paused. ‘Happy days.’
She stopped, listening to the sound of the waves coming from the porthole and the grunting of the ship`s hull.
‘The Viennese house had a library that any European professor would envy. And the lab.’ She smiled again. ‘My friend set it up for me. Then he fell in love with another, but it doesn`t matter.’
The room became quiet again.
‘He did me a great service,’ Agatha said slowly. ‘Thanks to him, I realized two things. First: freedom and knowledge are more important than anything in the world.’ She was silent.
‘What was the second one?’
‘The status of a decent woman is an absolute fiction.’
‘What do you want to know?’
He asked absolutely seriously. He was waiting for an answer.
‘You,’ said Agatha. ‘I want to get to know you, to understand how you are made, to see your limits.’
Dracula narrowed his eyes.
‘You drink the blood of passengers, sailors, and the captain,’ Agatha said confidently. Rising from her chair, she walked over to him. ‘Apparently you take a little so as not to kill anyone. A murder, moreover, a few, would attract attention. And so everyone just gets sick, and you are happy and full. That`s smart.’
‘You are a vampire,’ Agatha continued. ‘In itself … interesting. But what is even more interesting – you have learned to cope with yourself. Most of the undead that I`ve read about, that I`ve been told about,’ she ignored his surprised look, ‘are unstoppable. Wild. They drink blood, remember nothing of their past lives, and are never satisfied. They are just monsters.’
‘Composition of passengers, remember? I got close on the Demeter not only with you,’ she chuckled. ‘The captain says he`s never had that many. And most are rich. I don`t believe in coincidences that are so well organized.’
‘You picked them. Found and slipped them this ship. I don`t know how I`ll be glad to know – but later. What I am sure of exactly: they are your menu.’
His face was still absolutely calm, only a smile touched his lips.
‘You have already tried them all,’ Agatha continued. ‘But for some reason, you didn`t try me. Perhaps you decided to stock up or left me for dessert. Or maybe you decided – for now – not to touch the one who was not chosen by you and who just went and bought a ticket on the ship. The endurance is impressive,’ she said, raising her head: Dracula came very close. ‘Whatever it is, I don`t agree.’
‘Do you want to become a victim of a vampire?’
‘I want to know how it works.’
He parted his lips slightly as if catching his breath. Exposing fangs.
‘This may be my best experiment yet,’ Agatha said.
And then he laughed – sincerely, cheerfully, the laughter that Agatha least of all expected from him. He tilted his head. Looked into her eyes.
‘Do you understand what you are asking me?’
‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Experience, the result of which is known in advance, is worth nothing,’ she said, and gasped: Dracula grabbed her by the waist with one arm.
‘These are dangerous experiments. How can you be sure that I won`t eat you?’
‘What if I get carried away?’
‘Any research contains a share of risk.’
‘Aren`t you afraid that it will hurt?’
‘Pain doesn`t bother me,’ Agatha chuckled. ‘In a certain environment, they are used to it.’ Grabbing the collar of her dress, she bared her shoulder. ‘Come boy. Suckle.’
...There was no pain. There was something like numbness at the site of the bite. And when Agatha opened her eyes, she saw that she was standing in a round room, lit by candles on the stone walls. The bottles, dull with age-old dust, gleamed in the distant niches.
Dracula stood before her, holding a bottle of wine in his hands.
Agatha listened and walked across the room. She peered into the nearest niche. No noise of the sea, no ship rolling.
‘How did you do that?’ she asked Dracula.
‘Hypnosis? Or a dream?’ She walked over to the chess table with the pieces arranged and ran her hand over it. Raising her head, she looked at the huge staircase descending into the room, at the railing with whimsical carvings.
‘A dream,’ said Agatha, pointing to the railing. ‘The bed in the cabin is decorated the same way.’ She turned to Dracula. ‘A dream usually contains elements of reality. Oh my God, this is… beautiful,’ she breathed.
‘What else can you do? Forest or field?’
‘Big city? Theater? Medieval market? Stable?’
He shook his head again in the affirmative.
‘You will show me everything.’
‘You can`t be called a passionate woman, you know. At first sight.’
The bed under Agatha was huge – white sheets that seemed to spread back and forth into infinity. Shaking her head, Agatha smiled at Dracula lying below her.
‘Looks are deceiving, isn`t that what they say?’
She stretched, squirmed, straightening up.
‘Though I think people just see what they want.’
She didn`t answer. She got up and brushed her hair back. Slowly lowered herself, resting her palms on either side of herself. Squeezed his thighs shortly.
‘The same as I saw in you.’ Narrowing her eyes in satisfaction, Agatha watched a sharp shiver run through his body. ‘An opportunity to know and feel … more. More than is accepted, possible, or decent.’
Two broad palms covered her breasts.
‘We could do it for real, you know.’ His hands slid down. One stuck to her stomach. The finger of the other gently pressed on the clitoris. Agatha sighed. Pushed harder, deeper.
‘It’s more interesting,’ she said, looking into his eyes.
They spent the next week together. Dracula showed her everything she wanted. As she asked. And even more. More than Agatha could have imagined, more than she could wish for. After determining by trial and error how long it would take for the ‘journey’ to be pleasant and harmless, they plunged into exploration – deep, greedy – of vampiric possibilities, of each other`s fantasies, of themselves.
At some point, realizing that to maintain Dracula`s life, much less blood is required than he was used to drinking, Agatha demanded that he leave the other passengers alone. Ignoring the mocking look and the hint that she was jealous, she got him to promise. Do not drink their blood and do not kill anyone.
‘I spent a lot of resources building a pantry,’ Dracula grumbled at dinner that evening. ‘Time, money, intrigue – and for what?’
Agatha threw up her hands.
‘Not all efforts pay off, Mr. Balaur.’
After two weeks of sailing, the ship entered the port for a short time. Some of the passengers went down to the shore – to take a walk and feel the solid ground under their feet. Most benefited, Agatha noted to herself. Although not all. Dr. Sharma, already perpetually tired and pale, now looked as if he had stopped eating and sleeping altogether.
Inexplicably, the doctor seemed to her the least likeable of all the passengers on the Demeter. Gloomy, lonely, and secretive, he did not talk to almost anyone except his young daughter, and with her only in sign language. And he had a very characteristic scratch on his face – from the claws. One evening at dinner, Agatha saw him drop his notepad. In the few moments, it took the doctor to pick it up and put it in his jacket pocket, Agatha managed to notice tables and notes made in small handwriting, and on one of the pages, there was a schematic drawing resembling a bat. However, Dracula (who did not need to explain what she was thinking) said that there was nothing to worry about, yet there was something about Dr. Sharma that troubled her.
On one of the hot nights, Agatha went down to the deck and saw Dorabella. The girl stood at the side and, bending over, looked down. A few minutes later, doctor Sharma arrived and came up to her. Agatha held her breath. But Dorabella and the doctor seemed to be just talking peacefully. No scary secrets. She spent too much time reading stories about the creatures of the night, Agatha mused as she turned to leave. Or perhaps she is spending too much time with one of them.
A scream and a loud crack from above made Agatha freeze in place. She looked back: a body had collapsed on the deck beside Dorabella and the doctor.
Everything at once began to move, fussed, mixed up – steps, faces, and voices.
‘You fell? You of all people?’ It`s Valentine, one of the senior sailors.
‘It`s fog. It`s all damn fog!’
‘Take him away,’ Captain. ‘We need to bandage his leg.’
Averting her gaze from the horrific scene, Agatha looked helplessly at the crowd of people huddled on the deck. She saw Dracula.
‘No sun for many days,’ he said. ‘It`s sad, isn`t it?’
A sailor named Portman died twenty minutes later. A sharp splinter damaged an artery. He bled out.
Dracula came to her later than usual.
Agatha opened the door and let him in. Without looking, she walked back to the cabin. Sitting on the bed, she looked up at him.
‘Get rid of that damn fog.’
Instead of answering, he approached and leaned towards her – harshly, swiftly. Sharp teeth slashed down her neck.
...The window was wide and rough as if carved right into the rock.
Opening the heavy wooden window sash, Agatha hung down.
‘It`s a fortress. There`s no getting out of here,’ a voice said.
Straightening up, she turned around.
Dracula came up and, leaning one hand on the wall of the window niche, looked out.
‘Petruvio, the architect, built it like a trap.’
‘This is not my dream,’ she said, peering at Dracula. ‘I didn`t ask you to take me here with you.’
‘You didn`t,’ Dracula nodded. ‘But I thought you`d like to see it.’
Several long seconds passed before Agatha saw, before she realized what had really confused her and what was wrong in this dream.
The castle was not old. Or rather, it was – it was gray, large, and mossy, built from barely turned stone blocks as if thrown one on top of the other in an attempt to lay down either an altar or a military outpost.
However, most likely, the latter, Agatha thought absently, looking at Dracula, frozen by the window.
He was dressed in crude armor and a red caftan with gold buttons draped over it. Tangled, wavy long hair spilled over his shoulders. Agatha shifted her gaze to the torn caftan sleeves and plate-gloved hands.
‘It`s here,’ she said. ‘In 1459, Prince Vlad of Wallachia invited the boyars to a celebration in honor of his accession to the throne. I read about it.’
Dracula looked past her into the courtyard.
Both the courtyard and the castle were old, but not ancient – they were no more than a hundred years old.
They were there – in 1459. Dracula, who died at forty-five, looked no older than twenty-eight or thirty.
‘He killed everyone,’ Agatha said. ‘Killed everyone he invited. Such was his revenge for betrayal, for the fact that the boyars swore allegiance to another heir. For the murder of his father and older brother.’
‘He was merciful,’ Dracula said. He reached out and closed the window. ‘Petruvio built the castle as a trap,’ he repeated. ‘In case the enemy gets in. Lost in the labyrinth, a slow death from starvation awaited. Maybe they were going crazy.’
‘Why are you showing this to me?’
The silence was his answer. And the next moment Agatha woke up – in her cabin, alone. Moving, she grimaced – the wound on her neck was desperately aching.
It was sunny outside. The yellow haze is gone.
‘You wanted to show me that the educated gentleman you appear to be is nothing more than a veneer. A beautiful shell.’
Agatha ran her fingers along the rough edge of the railing.
‘An educated gentleman is always nothing more than a veneer,’ said Dracula.
It was quiet on deck. Suppressed by the incident, the passengers sat in the cabins, and the crew hid, trying not to catch anyone`s eyes.
‘You wanted to show that Portman`s death was not accidental. That this is who you are. The one who makes people die. Just because it`s convenient for you.’
She fell silent, looking at the horizon, which again gradually tightened the already familiar fog. Turning around, she looked at Dracula, who was leaning on the railing.
‘What are you thinking about?’
‘What? About whom?’ Agatha was surprised.
‘Well, you know, a French fairy tale. From the collection of Charles Perrault. It`s actually much older though.’
He was silent for a moment.
‘Bluebeard had a secret room in the castle where he kept the bodies of his dead wives.’
‘The only one where the next bride could not enter. Oh God,’ she said, bringing her hand to her mouth.
Dracula called his victims brides. The ones he wanted to make like him. He and Agatha talked a lot about it – she showed curiosity, and listened eagerly. What Dracula was doing was abhorrent, but the process of transformation, the fact that a vampire could reproduce himself this way, awakened her exploratory passion. As well as other feelings that Agatha was not ready to admit to herself.
‘Wise story. The young girls think that it is about salvation, about how, at the last moment, the brothers come to the aid of the desperate heroine and kill the monster.’
‘However, it is about something else.’ Dracula looked at Agatha. ‘This is a story about how a person needs a person.’
Agatha looked at him questioningly.
‘I had a similar room in the castle,’ Dracula said. ‘Been there for many years. I put boxes with the bodies of those who drank in it. Including the undead. I don`t remember, probably, it... depressed me. At first. Maybe even scared. Then... I guess I got used to it. I don`t know.’ He looked at Agatha. ‘You don`t mind leftover food stored in the pantry. My gaze slid past it, I didn`t think ... I stopped attaching importance to such things. And just when Jonathan showed up…’
‘His firm helped me with the purchase of an estate in London. Jonathan Harker, their best employee, personally brought the documents.’ Dracula paused. ‘I always demanded the best,’ he smiled wryly, ‘almost like Adisa.’
Agatha listened in silence.
‘I remember Johnny finding it,’ Dracula said. ‘I remember how he went in there, how he saw it. As he understood what he found.’
‘I followed him, standing right there, outside the door. At first, I was amused, and then I saw his face.’
Dracula`s voice became muffled and tired.
‘For the first time in many years, I saw that room through someone else`s eyes. Through the eyes of someone who came from the outside world, through the eyes of someone who was not like me.’
Agatha was silent in shock.
‘The story of Bluebeard,’ said Dracula, “is about how you don`t know what`s inside you until another comes along.’
‘What happened to Jonathan?’ Agatha asked after a few minutes of silence.
‘He`s dead,’ Dracula replied. ‘The brothers didn`t come for him.’
‘And what about the people who…’
Dracula looked at Agatha.
‘In the end, I did what they asked.’
They did not see each other for several days. The ship sailed in yellow fog, wrapped in it like an old lady in a moth-eaten rug. Agatha holed up in her room, leaving only to breathe in the sea air, eat and drink coffee in the wardroom. Looking at the ruffled passengers, she noted the absence of Dracula and Dr. Sharma.
For some reason, there are two of them. However, there were no girls either. But it did not calm.
On the evening of the third day, without touching dinner, Agatha returned to the cabin.
They didn`t quarrel. They did not insult each other and did not disperse, tossing and turning in bed, Agatha convinced herself. Who are they to each other anyway? Angry, she sat up, throwing the covers aside. The stars were fading out in the porthole in the gray sky. Shaking herself, Agatha threw on her robe and slipped out the door.
…Pushing open the cabin door, she entered, not surprised that it wasn`t locked. None of the sailors would have dared to disturb its inhabitant, and the passengers were busy with themselves. Once inside, she stopped by the bed. Dracula was sleeping on his back. Looking at his pale face, tight lips, and barely heaving chest, Agatha remembered asking him if he needed to sleep at all. It turned out that he did – although less often than people. But he slept much better.
Returning to the entrance, Agatha locked the door with a key. She walked back and, throwing off her dressing gown, climbed into a narrow bunk.
Dracula opened his eyes. There was no surprise or question in his gaze. In a fraction of a second, Agatha was lying in bed and only had time to think if he woke up or was still sleeping.
It was not at all like how they loved each other in a dream. And maybe that`s why Agatha called it that for the first time – albeit to herself. Freeing her arms, she wrapped them around his neck, throwing her head back and allowing him everything. To be where he wants, how he wants, for so long or so fast, pushing, panting, tormenting, flashing, and burning.
When it became impossible to endure, and clinging to his sweat-covered shoulders, she opened her eyes, the sun fell on her – pink, large. Still not quite awake from the pleasure that shook her, Agatha blinked.
The sun was still there. Through the cloudy glass of the porthole, it illuminated the cabin – the table, the glass of water on it, the wooden floor, and the bed. It illuminated the small drops of sweat on Dracula`s back, softly touching his hair. Rubbing his cheek against hers, Dracula rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.
Smiling, Agatha slipped out of bed and, pulling on her gown, kissed Dracula on the shoulder.
‘I`ll be back,’ she whispered, drawing the thick curtains again, and walked out the door.
In the morning, in the wardroom, Dracula sat down at her table, talking to her as if nothing had happened that night. After waiting for her to finish breakfast, he offered her his hand, and they went on deck. The fog cleared, but the sky was overcast.
‘I don’t fit the definition of a young girl for a long time,’ Agatha said.
‘And as far as I remember, the woman from the tale about Bluebeard became his wife of her own free will.’
‘You know, I never thought,’ Agatha said as if not hearing, ‘never consider vampires to be monsters.’
‘Monsters are not interesting,’ she said. Turned around. ‘Look. There, in the depths, whales live. They are huge and mysterious. For a small fish whose life is calculated in months, they are almost immortal. Aren`t they vampires of some sort?’
‘I loved reading about whales.’
‘And yet you decided to connect your life with small fish?’
‘I`m not afraid …’ Agatha looked at the water ‘I`m not afraid of what you can do to me. And you don`t scare me.’ She turned to Dracula. ‘Am I a monster too?’
‘You are a beloved child who did not know shocks,’ said Dracula. Stepping closer to her, he hugged her.
‘Will I be disappointed?’
‘But if I want? You will do it?’
From the vertebrae resting against his chest, prickly flashes diverged inside – flashes of the sun, Agatha thought distantly.
‘If I want to be like you?’
‘In our village,’ said Agatha, ‘there were interesting ideas about marriage. About matrimony and marriage. The bride was considered dead to her own family and born to her husband`s one. I have always been struck by this convergence of life and marriage, love and death.’
‘I`ll be careful. You won`t feel anything,’ Dracula smiled.
Releasing her, Dracula turned away. Frowning.
‘It`s strange,’ he said. ‘So many years… so many years I have been trying to create a companion for myself. I have been looking for a bride for so long. And now…
‘And now that you`ve found her, are your hands trembling?’
He was silent for a long time.
‘Those creatures in the depths,’ Agatha looked again at the waves splashing overboard, ‘follow the destined nature. And you? And… we?’
‘We are free to choose. Probably,’ said Dracula. He took Agatha`s face in his hands and turned it towards him. ‘Do we have a choice, Agatha?’
Affectionately, she covered his hands with hers. She smiled at the confusion in his dark eyes.
‘Ask me,’ she whispered. ‘Ask and I will answer you.’
The sound of the waves echoed in her ears.
‘Do you want to be with me, Agatha Van Helsing?’
And in the evening everything changed again.
Bursting into the cabin, Agatha slammed the door behind her.
‘How dare you?’ she hissed, coming close to Dracula. ‘How dare you?’
‘What`s happened?’ He didn`t seem to understand what had come over her.
‘You promised…’ Agatha growled. ‘You promised me that you would stop drinking the passengers` blood.’
Frowning, Dracula pushed her aside and, going to the porthole, looked out. Frightened sailors rushed about on the deck, in the weak light penetrating through the thick fog. The captain`s voice was heard in the distance.
‘Dr. Sharma is missing,’ Agatha said. ‘He hasn`t been seen since the night before last.’
‘At first, no one noticed. His daughter went to bed early, she always does. She slept most of the next day. And when she woke up, she realized that her father had not come either that evening or later. Sokolov suspects him. He thinks Portman didn`t die by accident. 'Dark Forces'’ she said grimly.
Agatha paused, looking accusingly at Dracula.
‘His cabin is empty, and the bed is untouched. All his things are in place.’
‘Is this known from his daughter?’
‘His daughter is deaf-mute,’ said Dracula.
‘She can read and write.’
Dracula was silent for a few moments. But he didn`t look worried. Rather, thoughtful.
Agatha looked at Dracula intently. She felt so ridiculous, so stupid.
How dare you play with him? Or with me.
‘We`ll wait until night,’ said Dracula. Don`t rush and make noise. I understand that the girl is frightened,’ he added, ‘or pretending to be frightened. I doubt he`s that smart though. I give you my word, Agatha, – I did not touch Dr. Sharma,’ he said. ‘And since I`m the only one on the ship – a potential killer,’ he smiled charmingly, ‘it`s unlikely that anyone else dealt with him.’
‘So we`ll wait until night,’ Dracula repeated calmly. ‘Or better, until tomorrow.’ He looked at the shadows flickering behind the porthole glass. ‘Something tells me they won`t find him sooner.’
‘They looked everywhere.’ Agatha ran her hands over her face. ‘They ransacked the ship from top to bottom. He is gone.’
‘Not everywhere.’ Dracula turned around and looked at the bewildered Sokolov. The wardroom was in the twilight; depressed passengers sat at the tables. ‘Captain Sokolov?’
Sokolov turned to Dracula.
‘If you don`t mind, let`s go down to the hold.’
The hold was dark and cold. As she entered the low, heavy door, Agatha shivered. She wanted to call out to Dracula, who had gone ahead, but before she could do so, a rustling and crackling sounded from the semi-darkness.
‘Ten boxes of soil,’ Dracula said, returning to the door. Cloudy light illuminated his hand, pointing to the nearest corner.
Wooden boxes of Transylvanian pine stood on the port side, stacked on top of each other. Dracula told her about them, said that he was carrying the Transylvanian soil with him, and said why. Looking closer, Agatha saw that the boards had been torn out at the bottom of one of the boxes. In the hole, as if in a caricatured picture frame, a shrunken figure could be seen.
Without saying a word, Dracula went to the box and dragged Dr. Sharma half-dead with horror by the collar.
‘I understand your impatience, captain,’ Dracula said without raising his head. ‘But I have questions for him.’ He grabbed the fugitive by the collar again. ‘Get him out of the cabin in an hour or two.’
‘Why are you helping me?’
In Dr. Sharma`s cabin, everything was the same as on the day when Agatha came there with the captain – when it became clear that the doctor was missing. A neatly made bed, almost unburned candles, books spread out on the table. In the far corner was a bag with the girl`s things.
‘Your daughter does not deserve public disgrace,’ said Agatha. ‘She may not hear, but she has eyes.’
Dr. Sharma shuddered and looked at her.
‘None of this should have touched her,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I didn`t want that.’
‘Nevertheless, you have brought suspicion,’ Dracula said coldly, ‘not only on yourself but on everyone else. While entering the port, the captain received a telegram,’ he glanced at Agatha, ‘which said that a ... dark person was hiding on board. An untrustworthy and dangerous person. Capable of harming passengers –’
‘I can`t harm anyone!’ yelled Dr. Sharma. His voice broke. ‘That`s the point. I don`t want anyone to be…’ He leaned his hands on the table and lowered his head on them. ‘I never meant anything bad to anyone,’ he whispered through muffled sobs. ‘I just wanted them to leave me alone.’
Agatha looked at Dracula, then back at the doctor.
The light from the porthole was refracted in the edges of the blue bottle. Agatha watched it flicker on and off. She was overcome with fatigue and anger.
‘For ten years I worked at the University of Calcutta,’ Dr. Sharma`s voice was quiet and somehow broken. ‘Clean, carefree ten years. My research occupied me completely. I had the best students you could dream of – smart, inquisitive, and daring. I had friends and a wife who I adored. Last summer we celebrated Yamini`s ninth birthday. And then everything went upside down.’
First, an epidemic of fever claimed the life of young Mrs. Sharma. Sparing the doctor himself and his daughter, the disease wiped out most of his senior colleagues, and peer scientists left for England at the first opportunity.
‘The university has lost half of its researchers.’ The doctor pulled the bottle closer to him, splashed some liquid into a small glass. ‘Discouragement and desolation reigned everywhere.’ He hesitated. ‘The students skipped classes. Many hurriedly left Calcutta. And then…’
‘In December, something strange began to happen in the department. Everyone was depressed before, they hardly spoke to each other – I was used to this. But now everything was different.’
‘People needed someone to blame for their troubles,’ Agatha said softly.
‘When they started talking about inappropriate behavior, I didn`t believe it at first,’ the doctor said. ‘They said that there are strange rumors among the students, that people are scared. They chatted about something else about the lost morale. And in January there was a story…’ he squeezed the glass between his fingers, ‘that a bad person lives on campus. Someone who is trusted by teachers and students. Someone depraved, unworthy, and vile. Someone who abuses not only adults but also... children.’
Agatha blushed involuntarily, recoiling.
‘It was easy to blame the local,’ Dracula said in the complete silence that fell on the cabin. ‘It`s convenient to direct the anger of those exhausted by months of fighting the disease and fear at the upstart from the lower strata.’
‘They told me they were going to take Yamini away from me,’ Dr. Sharma whispered. He lifted his head and looked at Dracula. ‘They said they would take her. After the death of my wife, she was my only joy.’
The child of a dismissed professor, humiliated, disgraced – at best, thought Agatha, the girl would be sent to some fine orphanage. At worst, she would become a servant, and end up on the street at all.
‘You are the only one who got on the Demeter at the last moment,’ Dracula said.
‘I doubted,’ Dr. Sharma told him. ‘Neither I nor my daughter had anyone in England. The university wouldn`t give me decent recommendations. If I was going to decide to escape – what was waiting for us, me and her?’
Agatha looked at Dracula. She didn`t need explanations to understand what happened next.
‘And then you sent the telegram,’ she said. ‘You wrote to a man whom you never saw, but who patronized you for several months.’
‘Mr. Balaur,’ the doctor started up. ‘How did you find out?’
‘You talked about him at dinner,’ Agatha lied. ‘Did he invite you?.’
‘The answer came on the same day. I was told to pack my things and, without warning anyone, for the sake of my safety and the safety of my daughter, flee to Europe. We crossed the ocean and took the train to Bistritz via Vienna and Budapest. At Bistritz, at the post station, two tickets were supposed to be waiting for us – for this ship. For Demeter.’
Listening to the doctor, Agatha nodded absently until a new thought struck her.
‘Dr. Sharma,’ she said slowly, ‘you said that Calcutta was suddenly in the grip of an epidemic.’ Agatha glanced at Dracula again. ‘What kind of epidemic? What was this disease?’
An even stronger pallor, flooding the doctor`s cheeks, confirmed her guesses.
‘It was a nosferatu,’ Agatha said confidently. ‘It all started with anemia. People were tired and weak. Many became lethargic and lost their appetite. Some died from chronic ailments, which by that time had suffered for several years. Doctors shrugged their shoulders – they could not find any virus or other causative agent of this strange disease, while it spread with no less speed than any cholera or plague.’
Dr. Sharma looked at Agatha with widened eyes.
‘Your friends and colleagues, your students,’ continued Agatha, ‘suddenly found themselves in the face of a threat, a terrible, vague threat that had no face and no name, about which they knew nothing and from which they did not understand what to expect. But you knew, you understood,’ she said, looking into the doctor`s tormented face, ‘you found the nosferatu. You released it.’
The sob – or cry – was so desperate, so hopeless. Before she finished speaking, Agatha saw Dr. Sharma jump up.
‘Your research,’ said Agatha, also rising. ‘It`s all about your research. It took you far at times. Further, than others might imagine. It took you to the cemetery,’ she concluded. ‘To the ancient Calcutta burial of the times of the former civilization.’ Agatha shook her head as if she herself could not believe what she was saying. ‘This cemetery is five hundred years old, if not more. You have been there, deciphering the signatures on the tombstones. You heard strange sounds. You knew the stories of the locals about the 'loud graves'. And one day you decided to disturb one of them.’
Agatha saw it as clearly as if she were there: a young, ambitious scientist whose whole purpose in life was her work and her only beloved daughter. She saw his fatigue, his desire to prove to himself and to the whole wide world that he was worth something, his sincere passion for science. His readiness for almost everything.
‘When you realized what you released, it was too late,’ standing opposite Dr. Sharma, Agatha looked at him point-blank. ‘The creature devoured people, ate their lives. You`ve been watching this for as long as you could. And then stopped it. It cost you dearly.’ She pointed to the scar on his cheek. ‘After that, you could leave right away. You wanted to leave. But you were not sure that you would not carry this infection with you. The bat,’ she said, ‘drawings and notes in your notebook. You tracked the indicators, counted the days. You thought you were transforming. And so I thought. It seemed to me that you… Oh my God. But you didn`t know it wasn`t enough. A single bite is not enough. You were afraid of yourself, afraid of your colleagues. And you ran away. You thought the world couldn`t keep up with you if you run fast enough.’
Having said this, Agatha suddenly felt so tired and bitter that she thought she was about to fall. Looking around for something to lean on, she stared at the glass in front of the doctor. She was terribly thirsty. Reaching out her hand, Agatha took the glass and drained it to the bottom.
The pain and dizziness were so acute that Agatha was not even frightened at first. Swaying slightly, she looked at Dracula and tried to say something. But her lips did not move, and her body convulsed. Agatha breathed in once, twice – and plunged into pitch darkness.
They were back in bed. Dracula hugged her. Agatha was shaking, she was unbearably cold. Starched sheets heaved around her, threatening to drown her, to enshroud her forever. Agatha darted among them, panting. When it seemed that she could not cope, that everything was over, she suddenly became hot. Her body boiled and melted, fire burning in her tortured throat.
‘What ... What is ... What is this?’ whispered Agatha, parting her lips with difficulty.
‘It`s poison,’ said Dracula. ‘You drank poison.’
‘Accidentally. I think he made it for himself.’
‘That`s all right. Agatha, look at me. You are safe.’
‘I will become like him,’ she whispered.
‘I will become a vampire and be like him, intimidated, hysterical, hiding in the corners. I will be a cowardly animal.’
‘You will never be like this. Please, Agatha, relax. Let me help you.’
Sighing, she buried her forehead in his chest.
‘It`s all right.’ His voice was low; it sounded like it was from afar. ‘Everything will be OK.’
The heat receded gradually, subsiding. Her body became light, she was put to sleep.
Opening her eyes, Agatha saw how the bedroom and the bed, blurring, begin to glow. Slowly and stubbornly, a golden glow shone through them. The sun`s rays, as they are when they penetrate the window in the early morning.
‘The sun is the only thing I can`t give you,’ Dracula`s voice was heard, gentle and sad. ‘But everything else is yours.’
Sleep overcame Agatha, her eyes closed.
She settled herself comfortably, hugging Dracula and resting her head on his shoulder.
And at that moment, Agatha`s heart stopped.
She woke up from someone`s screams. Outside the window, people were yelling – cursing or just arguing. Moving, Agatha opened her eyes and saw that she was in Dracula`s cabin. Memories flooded in like an avalanche, falling on her all at once. Standing up, Agatha looked out the porthole. She listened again. Two people were talking behind the door. Sokolov`s voice sounded anxious and furious. In response, Dracula`s voice asked him not to succumb to emotions.
‘So was he. Believe me, captain, because he put her in danger, I would have hoisted him on the mast, and he would have begged me for it. But I don`t think she`d like that decision. Leave it. He won`t harm anyone.’
The door slammed, and Dracula entered the cabin. He gave Agatha a surprised look.
‘I don`t see any reason to lie down.’
Dracula nodded. He came closer.
Shaking her head, Agatha said,
‘There is something more urgent.’
Ignoring Dracula, who stared blankly at her, she turned and, stepping towards the curtained porthole, ripped the curtains off.
Dracula screamed so loudly that she doubted for a moment – in her observations, in her conclusions made a few days ago, in herself.
In the next second, she was already on the floor – pressed, embedded into the rough boards, covered with the body of Dracula.
His scream still echoed in her ears.
Agatha felt herself suffocating, from the novelty of sensations, from the bright light. From how desperately he squeezes her.
‘Dracula,’ whispered Agatha. Releasing one hand, she touched his cheek. He lay on top of her, silent now, his eyes firmly closed. Horror and pain froze on his pale face.
He swallowed, took a breath. The expectation of death, like a blush, left his face. Very slowly, opening his eyes, he looked at Agatha.
‘I don`t understand,’ he said.
Agatha watched him straighten his shoulders, the sun washes over him. She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and laughed.
‘I wanted to say. That night when you and I were together for the first time in reality –’
‘I thought I was sleeping.’
‘Don’t dig another hole,’ Agatha smiled. ‘When you fool others for years, you stop distinguishing between dreams and reality. You thought you were dreaming about that morning,’ she said, turning serious. ‘But it was real. Morning and sun. I wanted to tell you.’
But then Dr. Sharma disappeared, they had a fight, and then she died.
Dracula got up and turned around. Sitting on the floor, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.
Four hundred years, Agatha thought, watching the tears run down his cheeks.
Finding his hand, she intertwined their fingers.
‘Now I'm hungry,’ she smiled.
He nodded and kissed her on the cheek.
It was noisy in the port of Whitby. Standing at the side, Agatha looked at how Dracula`s servants dragged bales and suitcases into the carriage. The Grand Duchess descended the ladder. Dr. Sharma stood on the shore and pressed Yamini to him. A letter was white in his hands. Agatha knew it was an invitation from the University of Whitby, Department of Science and Chemistry. Mr. Balaur knew how to make surprises. She shook her head.
‘Your future spouse was not supposed to meet you?’
Agatha turned around. She looked at Dracula standing next to her.
‘No. I should probably write to him,’ she said after thinking.
Dorabella swam past them, her hat feather touching Agatha`s cheek.
Can her marriage be considered romantic?
*Omoară-ma (Romanian) – kill me.