Introduction
I am a great fan of the original Universal Studios monster movies from the 1930s. Nothing could beat the atmosphere of the black and white photography of ethereal other worlds shrouded in shadows. The best scenes of Dracula starring Bela Lugosi were those in his castle in Transylvania. Wouldn’t it be fun if the entire story were told in the dusty, cobweb-covered main hall with its magnificent huge winding staircase? And that story is so familiar to everyone it’s hard to take it seriously anymore. That’s why I’ve set my novella in Dracula’s castle and played the whole thing for laughs.
CHAPTER ONE
Sunset was hours ago.
The joint was jumping in Count Dracula’s castle in the wilds of Transylvania. You wouldn’t believe the shenanigans going on in the game room. It used to be a grand dining hall until Dracula brought in his latest three brides. They were centuries younger than him and had different ideas about having a good time, which included a trapeze, trampoline, dining tables padded with feather mattresses and a large vat of rendered animal fat.
Because of his advanced age, Dracula tended to sleep in quite a bit after the last rays of daylight had disappeared. Visitors banged the huge iron knocker on the front door, which roused him from his coffin in the dirt-floored basement. He stretched, yawned and scratched the hair in his palms before climbing the stairs and entering the main hall through an intricately woven through worn tapestry hanging over the basement door.
Taking his time, Dracula walked to the bottom step of this grand staircase where he took an aristocratic pose. The banging continued, which aggravated him to no end. Placing his hands on his hips, he called out, “Isn’t anyone going to answer the door?”
Loud naughty laughter emanating from behind the double doors to the game room drew his attention. The doors flew open, and Salacia, one of Dracula’s new wives, appeared wearing a shroud which barely covered her more provocative body parts and snarled, “Get it yourself! We’re busy!”
Slammed the doors shut and another round of raucous laughter erupted. Dracula stamped his foot and wrapped his satiny black cape close around his body.
“Count Dracula, Prince of Darkness, and I have to open my own front door! What’s the use of having three wives if you have to open your own front door?” More giggles bubbled from behind the double doors. He sneered in its direction. “Brazen hussies!”
More pounding at the front door returned his mind to the business at hand.
“All right! All right! You’re making enough noise to wake the dead!” He paused to laugh. “Too late! I’m already up!”
Opening the door, Dracula ran back to the stair case to resume his dramatic stance on the bottom step. Mina Seward, young and beautiful but dressed very prudishly with a collar up to her jaw, and her hair in a tight bun, entered with her hand outstretched to shake the hand of the master of the manor.
“I’m so very pleased to meet….” Her voice trailed off, she almost lost her balance as she discovered there was no one there to accept her greeting. However, Mina recovered quickly and smiled when she noticed her host on the staircase. “Oh, there you are. “I’m so very pleased—“
“Good evening,” Dracula interrupted her and bowed deeply.
Following Mina was Dr. Van Helsing, an elderly bearded man, who had a steamer trunk on his back and a small valise in one hand. He was not an unattractive man considering his advanced years and the fact that at this moment his eyes were bulging from the excessive weight he was carrying. His knees began to tremble.
“Terribly foggy, don’t you think?” Mina inquired politely about the weather. “Anyway, I’m so very pleased—“
“I am Count Dr. Dracula,” he interrupted her again.
Van Helsing first went to his knees and then bent over to balance himself on the floor with both his hands and knees.
“Yes, I assumed you were. As I was saying, I’m so very pleased—“
“I bid you welcome,” the count interrupted a third time.
“Help,” Van Helsing whispered.
Mina’s unflappable British comportment began to get flapped. She repeated very quickly, “I’m so very pleased to make your acquaintance.” She breathed deeply and returned to speaking normally. “There. I finally got it all out. I am Mina Seward, and this gentleman….” Her voice trailed off once more as she turned to introduce Van Helsing to find he had disappeared.
“Help,” the professor pleaded, gasping for air. At this point he had collapsed on his face, the trunk forcing his torso into the dusty stone floor.
“Oh fiddlesticks,” she exclaimed in exasperation, “Where has he gone?”
“Help.” The old man’s voice whimpered.
Dracula gracefully alit the stairs and approached Mina, waving his hand in Van Helsing’s direction. “I assume you are referring to the gentleman on the floor under the steamer trunk.”
Mina quickly regarded her companion. She looked quickly a second time to make sure she understood what she beheld. “What a ghastly place to take a nap.”
“I am not napping,” the old man wheezed.
“Then mind your manners, professor,” she lectured in a crisp tone. “The count is waiting to greet you.” When Van Helsing did not respond immediately, Mina turned to smile at Dracula. “This is Dr. Van Helsing, a friend of the family.”
With great difficulty—and a moan—Van Helsing rolled the trunk off his back, stood and offered an unsteady hand to the count.
“I bid you welcome, Dr. Van Helsing, a name known even in the hinterlands of Transylvania.”
The two men exchanged formal bows and engaged in a firm and courteous handshake, ruined at the last moment because the professor began giggling.
“Pardon me,” he explained, returning to his usual solemn composure, “but the hair in your palm tickles.”
Dracula withdrew his hand and hid it behind his back in a huff. “Forgive me. I forgot to shave when I arose.”
Mina, always nervous in awkward moments—and this was definitely an awkward moment—stepped between the two men. “Thank you for allowing us to drop in unannounced. After Jonathan’s last letter, we were quite concerned.”
“Of course. And your journey must have been fatiguing.” Dracula motioned to an elegant long divan in the center of the entrance hall. “Please, have a seat.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Van Helsing plopped on the divan which created a huge billow of dust to upsurge. “My God! When was the last time you cleaned this place?”
Mina’s eyes fluttered. “Why, Dr. Van Helsing! Spring cleaning season doesn’t begin for another week!”
“Miss Seward?” Dracula smiled and pointed again to the divan.
“Thank you, count.” Mina walked over to where Van Helsing sat, paused to consider the cloud of filth still floating over his head and turned away. “On second thought, I’d rather stand, thank you.”
“Whatever.” Dracula could not conceal his pique.
“Jonathan had written several letters since his law firm sent him here to settle your financial matters and arrange for your passage to England.”
The count resumed his elegant affability. “Yes, Mr. Harker has been most helpful.”
“His first letters were his usual, very level-headed, very business-like self,” she continued.
“Would you care for some wine?” the count asked.
“Yes,” Van Helsing responded quickly. “I’ve got to have something to get this dust out of my throat.”
“It’s very old wine,” Dracula said.
“The older the better.” He tried to stifle a cough.
Mina stepped forward and wrinkled her brow. “Dr. Van Helsing, do you think it’s wise to imbibe before we eat?”
“I take it you don’t wish to have a glass, Miss Seward?” the count asked.
“Of course not.” Her eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t try to impose your Victorian prudery on me, girl,” Van Helsing shot back. “I have to drink something or else I’m going to have one of my hacking episodes.”
“As you wish, professor.” Dracula went to an elaborate cabinet by the staircase and pulled a wine bottle from a shelf to pour into a delicate crystal goblet.
Mina took a few steps his way to continue her discourse on Jonathan. “I began to wonder about my fiancé when in his last letter he said you had three wives—three very lovely wives—who were driving you up the wall. He said he was sure of it because he saw you crawling up a wall one night.”
Trying to ignore her, the count served the professor his wine. “Mr. Harker has a vivid imagination. Here’s your drink, doctor.”
“Jonathan has no imagination at all,” Mina relied, just the least bit offended. “That’s why I love him so.”
Van Helsing sipped the wine, nodded, acted rejuvenated and gave Dracula a sly look. “Perfect.” He stood and began to inspect the interior décor of the entrance hall. “What an interesting place you have here, count.”
“Thank you.” He bowed.
The professor went to the tapestry hanging next to the staircase. “This is fascinating.”
“Thank you, again.”
“You usually only see tapestries like this in castles hundreds of years old.” Van Helsing ran his fingers lightly over the weaving.
“Castle Dracula is indeed ancient.” The count smiled tightly, careful not to reveal his teeth or formidable fangs.
The professor began to lift the tapestry. “I’ve always wondered how these tapestries were hung.”
Dracula, eager not to have the door to the basement and his coffin revealed, rushed over to Van Helsing to push the tapestry down. “Very, very carefully. That’s how tapestries are hung.”
The old German doctor chuckled to himself as he appraised the Transylvanian who obviously was in a great deal of social discomfort. He sipped on his wine and sauntered back to the sofa. As he sat, another cloud of dust rose to circle his head. “As I said, this wine is perfect. You must have some.”
“I never drink wine.” Dracula stiffened.
“Good for you, Count Dracula,” Mina chirped. “You see, Dr. Van Helsing, English aren’t the only prudes. Transylvanians are prudes also. Isn’t that right, count?”
He shook his head in confusion. “This word prude is not familiar to me. Forgive me, my English vocabulary is not what it should be.”
“That’s quite all right.” She paused and ten approached Dracula. “As I was saying about Jonathan’s letter, it seemed so very odd that he should say you had three wives. Oh, you’re not one of these American people who have all the wives, what are they called?”
Van Helsing lifted his glass to drain the last drops of wine. “Mormons.”
“I’m not familiar with this word Mormon either.” He turned to Mina. “But I assure you, I am not one.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Mina replied with a sigh. “Anyway, I was discussing the letter with father when Dr. Van Helsing dropped by and became quite agitated over the contents of the letter. He said Jonathan’s soul was in mortal danger, and that we must come to Transylvania immediately.”
Dracula laughed lightly. “Mr. Harker’s soul is not in mortal danger here in Castle Dracula. Nor is he being held here against his well, if that thought has crossed your mind.”
Van Helsing stood and straightened his German shoulders. “Frankly, the thought has crossed my mind.”
“Would you care for another glass of wine, doctor?”
“No.” He extended the goblet, upside down, to his host. “One glass refreshed me. A second would only cloud my capacity for reason.”
Dracula snatched the glass and returned it to the cabinet. “How unfortunate.”
“I put it to you forthwith.” Van Helsing walked around the sofa to confront the count face to face. “Is Jonathan Harker being held here against his will?”
“Ask him yourself.” He pointed to the double doors where licentious giggling emanated. “Mr. Harker is in there. You may call for him yourself.”
Mina hesitantly went to the doors and tapped lightly. “Jonathan? Are you in there? It’s Mina, darling.”