I must have fallen asleep during the journey.
If I had been fully awake, I would surely have noticed when we arrived at such a remarkable place.
The courtyard was enormous, or at least it seemed that way in the darkness. Several shadowy passages opened beneath huge stone arches, making the place appear even larger.
I still had not seen the castle in daylight.
When the carriage stopped, the driver climbed down and offered me his hand.
Once again, I was struck by his incredible strength.
His hand felt like a steel clamp around mine. If he had wanted to, I was certain he could have crushed my fingers without effort.
He unloaded my luggage and placed it beside me.
I was standing in front of a huge wooden door covered with old iron nails. It was set into a massive stone entrance, and even in the weak light I could see that the stone had once been covered with elaborate carvings.
Centuries of wind and rain had worn most of them away.
The driver climbed back into the carriage.
He shook the reins.
The horses moved forward, and within seconds the carriage disappeared into one of the dark passageways.
I stood there alone.
I had no idea what I was supposed to do next.
There was no bell.
There was no knocker.
The walls were so thick and the windows so dark that shouting would probably have been useless.
I waited.
And waited.
The silence seemed endless.
My mind filled with questions.
What kind of place was this?
What sort of people lived here?
And what exactly had I gotten myself into?
Was this really a normal assignment for a solicitor sent from London to help a foreign nobleman purchase an estate?
Then I remembered something that made me smile despite everything.
I was no longer merely a solicitor’s clerk.
Just before leaving London, I had received confirmation that I had passed my examination.
I was now a qualified solicitor.
Mina would certainly be pleased to hear that.
Still, standing alone in that dark courtyard, I began to wonder whether I was dreaming.
Everything felt unreal.
I almost expected to wake up in my own room in England, with the morning light coming through the curtains after another exhausting day of work.
To make sure I was awake, I rubbed my eyes and pinched myself.
It hurt.
I was definitely awake.
I was really in the Carpathians.
There was nothing I could do except wait.
Then I heard footsteps.
They were heavy and slow, coming from somewhere behind the great door.
A faint light appeared through the cracks.
A moment later, I heard chains moving.
Then came the deep metallic sound of bolts being pulled back.
Finally, a key turned inside the lock.
The lock sounded as though it had not been used in years.
The massive door slowly opened.
An old man stood inside.
He was tall and completely dressed in black.
His face was clean-shaven except for a long white moustache.
In one hand he held an old silver lamp.
The flame burned without a glass cover, casting long, trembling shadows across the walls.
He raised one hand and invited me inside.
Then he spoke in perfect English.
“Welcome to my home.”
His accent was strange, but his words were clear.
“Come in freely. You are welcome here.”
He did not move toward me.
He simply stood there like a statue, his hand still extended in welcome.
I stepped across the threshold.
At once, he came forward.
He took my hand.
His grip was unbelievably strong.
I winced.
But what disturbed me even more was the temperature of his hand.
It was freezing cold.
It felt less like the hand of a living man and more like the hand of a corpse.
He smiled.
“Welcome to my home.”
“Come freely.”
“Go safely.”
“And leave some of the happiness you bring behind.”
His strength reminded me of the mysterious driver who had brought me here.
For a moment, I wondered whether they might actually be the same man.
I looked at him carefully.
“Count Dracula?”
He gave me a formal bow.
“Yes. I am Dracula.”
“Welcome, Mr. Harker.”
“Please come inside. The night is cold, and you must be hungry and tired.”
He placed the lamp on a bracket in the wall.
Then, before I could stop him, he picked up my luggage himself.
I immediately protested.
“You don’t need to carry that, Count.”
He shook his head.
“No, my friend. You are my guest.”
“It is late, and my servants are not available.”
“Allow me to take care of you myself.”
He carried my luggage down a long stone passage.
Then we climbed a huge winding staircase.
At the top was another long corridor.
Our footsteps echoed loudly against the stone floor.
At last, he opened a heavy door.
I was relieved to see a warm, brightly lit room.
A table had already been prepared for supper.
A huge fire burned in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth.
Dracula put down my luggage.
Then he crossed the room and opened another door.
Beyond it was a small eight-sided room with a single lamp.
There were no windows.
He opened another door on the opposite side.
This led to my bedroom.
It was large, warm, and brightly lit.
Another enormous fire was burning in the fireplace.
Dracula placed my luggage inside.
“You should freshen up after your journey,” he said.
“Everything you need should be here.”
“When you are ready, come back to the other room. Your supper will be waiting.”
He closed the door.
The warmth of the room and Dracula’s polite manner eased some of my fears.
For the first time since arriving, I felt almost normal.
Then I realized how hungry I was.
I quickly washed and changed before returning to the dining room.
Supper was already waiting.
Dracula stood beside the fireplace.
He gestured toward the table.
“Please sit down and eat as much as you like.”
“I hope you will forgive me for not joining you. I have already eaten, and I do not take supper.”
I took out the sealed letter Mr. Hawkins had given me.
“This is from Mr. Hawkins.”
Dracula opened it and read it carefully.
When he finished, he smiled and handed it back to me.
The letter explained that Mr. Hawkins was suffering from gout and could not travel himself.
Instead, he had sent me because he trusted me completely.
The letter also said that I was energetic, capable, discreet, and loyal.
Dracula seemed pleased.
He uncovered one of the dishes himself.
Inside was a beautifully roasted chicken.
I immediately began eating.
There was also cheese, salad, and a bottle of old Tokay wine.
I drank two glasses.
While I ate, Dracula asked about my journey.
I told him everything that had happened since I left England.
He listened carefully and asked many questions.
After supper, he invited me to sit beside the fire.
He gave me a cigar.
I lit it.
Dracula did not smoke.
Now that I had time to observe him properly, I found his appearance extremely unusual.
His face was long and sharply defined.
His nose was thin and strongly curved.
His forehead was high, and his dark hair was thick except around the temples.
His eyebrows were heavy and almost joined above his nose.
His moustache hid much of his mouth.
But I could still see his teeth.
They were unusually sharp and white.
His lips were remarkably red.
For a man of his apparent age, he looked strangely full of life.
His ears were pale and pointed at the top.
His chin was broad and strong.
His cheeks were thin but firm.
And his skin was extremely pale.
I had noticed his hands earlier in the firelight.
From a distance, they had looked pale and delicate.
Now that he was sitting close to me, I saw that they were actually broad and rough.
His fingers were short and thick.
There was even hair growing from the center of his palms.
His fingernails were long and sharply pointed.
When Dracula leaned toward me and his hand brushed against mine, I shuddered.
There was something deeply unpleasant about being so close to him.
Perhaps it was his breath.
Perhaps it was something else.
Whatever the reason, I suddenly felt sick.
Dracula noticed.
He slowly moved away.
A strange smile crossed his face.
Then he sat down on the other side of the fireplace.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
I looked toward the window.
The first faint light of dawn was beginning to appear.
Everything outside seemed unnaturally quiet.
Then I heard something far below in the valley.
Wolves.
Many wolves.
Dracula’s eyes suddenly seemed to shine.
He listened with obvious pleasure.
“Listen to them.”
“The children of the night.”
“What beautiful music they make.”
I must have looked surprised.
Dracula smiled.
“You people from the cities cannot understand what a hunter feels when he hears them.”
He stood.
“But you must be tired.”
“Your bedroom is ready.”
“Tomorrow, you may sleep as late as you wish.”
“I will be away until the afternoon.”
“Sleep well, Mr. Harker.”
“And dream well.”
He gave me a polite bow.
Then he personally opened the door for me.
I returned to my bedroom.
I felt completely overwhelmed.
Everything about this place was strange.
I was frightened.
I had doubts that I could not explain.
There were thoughts in my mind that I was almost afraid to admit even to myself.
I could only pray that God would protect me.
Especially for the sake of the people I loved back home.
7 May
It was early morning again.
Surprisingly, I had spent the previous day rather comfortably.
I slept until late and woke naturally.
After dressing, I went back to the dining room.
A cold breakfast had been prepared for me.
The coffee was still warm because the pot had been placed beside the fire.
There was a small card on the table.
It was from Dracula.
“I have to be away for a while.”
“Do not wait for me.”
“D.”
I ate a hearty breakfast.
When I finished, I looked for a bell so I could tell the servants that I was done.
There was no bell.
In fact, I had not seen a single servant anywhere in the castle.
That seemed very strange.
The castle was filled with signs of enormous wealth.
The plates and cutlery were made of gold and beautifully crafted.
The curtains, furniture, and bed coverings were made from extremely expensive fabrics.
Many of them were centuries old, yet they had been preserved remarkably well.
I had seen similar fabrics at Hampton Court.
But the ones there were worn and damaged.
These were almost perfect.
Yet there was something very strange about the rooms.
There were no mirrors.
Not even a small dressing mirror.
I had to use the little shaving mirror I had brought with me.
I still had not seen a servant.
I had not heard anyone moving through the castle.
The only sounds were the wolves outside.
I finished my meal sometime between five and six in the afternoon.
I was not sure whether to call it breakfast or dinner.
Since I did not want to explore the castle without Dracula’s permission, I looked for something to read.
There were no books in the room.
No newspapers.
Not even writing paper.
Then I noticed another door.
I opened it.
Behind it was a library.
I was delighted.
The shelves were filled with English books.
There were also old magazines and newspapers.
The books covered almost every subject imaginable.
History.
Geography.
Politics.
Economics.
Botany.
Geology.
Law.
Almost everything was connected with England and English life.
There were even reference books such as the London Directory, Whitaker’s Almanack, military lists, and the Law List.
Seeing books about English law in Dracula’s library made me strangely happy.
While I was examining the shelves, the door opened.
Dracula entered.
He greeted me warmly.
“I hope you slept well.”
“I did, thank you.”
He looked around the library.
“I am glad you found this room.”
“I think you will find plenty here to interest you.”
He placed his hand on several books.
“These have been my good friends for many years.”
“They taught me much about your country.”
“I have spent countless hours reading them.”
He looked thoughtful.
“Through these books, I have come to know England.”
“And because I know her, I have come to love her.”
“One day, I want to walk through the crowded streets of London.”
“I want to experience the noise, the movement, and the endless flow of people.”
“I want to see everything that makes your great city alive.”
“But there is one problem.”
“I know England only through books.”
He looked at me.
“You must help me learn to speak English properly.”
I smiled.
“But, Count, your English is already excellent.”
He shook his head.
“Thank you, my friend.”
“But you are too kind.”
“I know the grammar.”
“I know the vocabulary.”
“But speaking a language naturally is another matter.”
“I still have much to learn.”
“You speak extremely well,” I assured him.
He smiled faintly.
“Not well enough.”
“If I walked through London and spoke as I do here, everyone would immediately know that I was a foreigner.”
“That is not enough for me.”
“Here, I am a nobleman.”
“I am a boyar.”
“The people know me, and I am their master.”
“But in a foreign country, a stranger is nobody.”
“No one knows him.”
“And when people do not know you, they do not care about you.”
He looked toward the bookshelves.
“I have been a master for too long to become powerless.”
“I want to live among your people without constantly being reminded that I am a stranger.”
“You have come here as the representative of my friend, Peter Hawkins.”
“You are here to tell me about the estate I have purchased in London.”
“But I want you to stay with me for a while.”
“You can help me learn the correct English accent.”
“And whenever I make even the smallest mistake, I want you to correct me.”
“I am sorry I had to leave you alone for so long today.”
“But I hope you will understand.”
“I have many important matters to deal with.”
“Of course,” I said.
“I will be happy to help.”
“May I come here whenever I wish?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“You may go anywhere you like in the castle.”
“Except where the doors are locked.”
He looked at me carefully.
“Obviously, you will not wish to enter those rooms.”
“There are reasons for everything here.”
“If you knew what I know and saw things as I see them, you would understand.”
“I am sure I would,” I replied.
Dracula continued.
“You must remember that this is Transylvania.”
“It is not England.”
“Our customs are different.”
“You will see many things here that seem strange to you.”
Then he gave me a faint smile.
“Although, from what you have already told me, you have experienced some of those strange things yourself.”
We talked for a long time.
Since Dracula seemed eager for conversation, I asked him about many of the unusual things I had experienced.
Sometimes he avoided a question.
Sometimes he pretended not to understand what I meant.
But most of the time, he answered openly.
Eventually, I became bold enough to ask about the blue flames I had seen during my journey.
“Why did your driver stop at those places?”
“Do those blue flames really mark hidden treasure?”
Dracula nodded.
“That is what people here believe.”
“On one particular night each year, when evil spirits are supposed to have complete freedom, blue flames appear above places where treasure has been buried.”
“So the treasure really exists?”
“There is little doubt.”
He leaned back.
“The land you traveled through has been fought over for centuries.”
“Wallachians, Saxons, and Turks have all battled there.”
“Almost every part of that land has been soaked in blood.”
“Men died there.”
“Women died there.”
“Children died there.”
“Invaders and patriots fought again and again.”
“When enemy armies approached, the people sometimes hid their valuables in the earth.”
“Some even waited in the mountains and caused avalanches to bury invading soldiers.”
“And when the invaders won, there was often little treasure left for them to find.”
I thought about the blue flames.
“But if those flames reveal where the treasure is buried, why hasn’t someone found it?”
Dracula smiled.
His lips pulled back slightly, revealing his long, sharp teeth.
“Because the peasants are both frightened and foolish.”
“The blue flames appear on only one night of the year.”
“And on that night, no sensible person here wants to leave his house.”
“Even if someone did go searching, he would not know what to do.”
“You said that your driver marked one of the places.”
“Do you think he could find it again in daylight?”
I shook my head.
“Absolutely not.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Dracula smiled.
“Exactly.”
We moved on to other subjects.
After a while, Dracula said:
“Now tell me about London.”
“And tell me everything about the house you bought for me.”
I apologized for not discussing the matter sooner.
Then I returned to my room and took the documents from my luggage.
As I arranged the papers, I heard dishes and silverware being moved in the next room.
When I walked through, I noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamps had been lit.
It was already dark outside.
The library was lit too.
Dracula was lying on the sofa.
He was reading an English railway guide.
I could hardly believe it.
He put the books and papers aside when I entered.
Then we began discussing the property.
We examined maps, legal documents, contracts, and financial details.
Dracula asked an enormous number of questions.
He wanted to know everything about the estate and the surrounding area.
He had clearly done his homework.
In some respects, he knew more about the property than I did.
I finally mentioned it.
“You seem to know an extraordinary amount about the area already.”
He smiled.
“But surely I must.”
“When I move to London, I will be completely alone.”
“My friend Jonathan Harker will not be there to help me.”
“You will be in Exeter, far away from me, working with my other friend, Peter Hawkins.”
“So I must prepare myself.”
We went carefully through every detail of the estate at Purfleet.
After I explained everything and obtained his signature on the necessary documents, I prepared a letter to Mr. Hawkins.
Then Dracula asked how I had found such a suitable property.
I showed him the notes I had made when I first inspected it.
The estate was called Carfax.
It stood on a quiet road near Purfleet.
An old, neglected sign announced that it was for sale.
A high stone wall surrounded the entire property.
The wall was ancient and had not been repaired for many years.
The gates were made of heavy oak and iron.
Rust covered them.
The estate covered roughly twenty acres.
There were many trees, some so dense that parts of the grounds were almost always dark.
There was also a deep pond or small lake.
The water was clear and seemed to come from underground springs.
A stream flowed away from it.
The house itself was enormous.
Some sections appeared to date back to medieval times.
One part had extremely thick stone walls with only a few narrow windows high above the ground.
Those windows were protected by iron bars.
That section looked more like a fortress than a home.
There was also an old chapel or church nearby.
I had not been able to enter because I did not have the key.
I had taken photographs of it from several angles instead.
Over the centuries, the house had been expanded many times.
The additions were irregular, making it difficult to determine exactly how large the building was.
There were very few other buildings nearby.
One was a large property that had recently been converted into a private mental asylum.
Fortunately, it could not be seen from the Carfax grounds.
When I finished explaining everything, Dracula smiled.
“I am very pleased that the house is old.”
“And that it is large.”
“I come from an ancient family.”
“Living in a modern house would make me miserable.”
“A house cannot become a true home in a single day.”
“And a hundred years pass very quickly.”
He paused.
“I am especially glad that there is an old chapel.”
“We Transylvanian nobles do not like the thought of our bones lying among ordinary graves.”
He looked toward the dark window.
“I do not care for parties or laughter.”
“I have no desire for bright sunlight or beautiful gardens.”
“I am no longer young.”
“And I have spent too many years mourning the dead.”
“My heart has no room for happiness.”
He looked almost lost in thought.
“My castle is already falling apart.”
“There are shadows everywhere.”
“The wind blows through the broken walls and windows.”
“I prefer darkness.”
“I prefer solitude.”
“I want to be alone with my thoughts.”
Something about his words disturbed me.
His expression did not match what he was saying.
And whenever he smiled, there was something dark and almost cruel about it.
A little later, Dracula excused himself.
“I will leave you to organize your papers.”
After he left, I looked through some of the books around me.
I found an atlas.
It was open to England.
It looked as though that particular map had been studied many times.
Then I noticed several small circles marked on the map.
One was near London.
It appeared to mark the location of his new estate.
The other two were near Exeter and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.
I wondered why those three places had been marked.
Nearly an hour passed before Dracula returned.
He saw me still reading.
“Ah! Still studying the books?”
“Good.”
“But you cannot work all the time.”
“Come. Your supper is ready.”
He took my arm and led me into the next room.
Another excellent meal had been prepared.
Dracula once again explained that he had already eaten while he was away.
He sat beside the fire while I ate.
Afterward, I smoked.
He stayed with me.
We talked for hours.
He asked questions about England, London, and almost everything else imaginable.
It became extremely late.
I knew it must be close to morning, but I said nothing.
I felt that I should respect my host’s wishes.
I was not tired because I had slept so much the previous day.
Still, I could feel the strange change that comes just before dawn.
The atmosphere seemed to shift.
Then a rooster suddenly crowed outside.
The sound was strangely sharp in the clear morning air.
Dracula immediately stood.
“There is morning again!”
“I have kept you awake far too long.”
“You must make our conversations about England less interesting.”
“Otherwise I may forget how quickly time passes.”
He gave me a polite bow.
“Good night, Mr. Harker.”
Then he left.
I returned to my bedroom and closed the curtains.
There was little to see through the window anyway.
It faced the courtyard.
Only the gray light of morning was beginning to appear.
I closed the curtains again.
Then I wrote down everything that had happened.
8 May
I have begun to worry that I am writing too much in this diary.
Now, however, I am glad I recorded everything from the beginning.
There is something deeply wrong about this castle.
Everything here is strange.
I want to get out.
Sometimes I wish I had never come.
Perhaps living according to Dracula’s strange schedule is beginning to affect my mind.
But I fear that is not the real problem.
If there were anyone else here to talk to, I could endure it.
But there is no one.
The only person I can speak to is Dracula.
And I am beginning to suspect that he may be the only living person in this entire castle.
I must stick to facts.
If I allow my imagination to take control, I may lose my grip on reality.
So I will write down exactly what happened.
I had slept only a few hours when I woke.
I felt that I could not sleep anymore, so I got up.
I hung my shaving mirror beside the window and began to shave.
Then I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Good morning.”
It was Dracula.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I could not understand how he had entered without my noticing him.
The mirror showed the entire room behind me.
If he had been there, I should have seen his reflection.
When I jumped, I accidentally cut my face with the razor.
I did not notice the cut immediately.
I answered Dracula’s greeting and turned back toward the mirror.
This time, I knew I had not imagined anything.
Dracula was standing directly behind me.
I could see him clearly over my shoulder.
But there was something terribly wrong.
He had no reflection.
The room behind me appeared perfectly normal.
I could see myself.
But Dracula was completely absent from the mirror.
I stared at it in disbelief.
After everything else that had happened, this pushed my uneasiness to another level.
Then I noticed the blood running down my chin.
I put the razor down and turned slightly, looking for something to cover the cut.
Dracula saw the blood.
His expression changed instantly.
His eyes seemed to blaze with fury.
He suddenly lunged toward my throat.
I recoiled.
His hand brushed against the crucifix hanging around my neck.
The effect was immediate.
The fury disappeared from his face as quickly as it had appeared.
He stepped back.
“Be careful.”
“Be very careful when you cut yourself.”
“You do not understand how dangerous that can be in this country.”
Then he grabbed my shaving mirror.
“This wretched thing is the cause of all this trouble.”
“It is nothing but a foolish object made for human vanity.”
“Get rid of it.”
He opened the heavy window with one powerful movement.
Then he threw the mirror outside.
It fell into the courtyard far below.
It shattered into countless pieces.
Without another word, Dracula left.
Now I have no proper mirror.
I suppose I will have to shave using the back of my watch case or the bottom of my metal shaving bowl.
When I went to the dining room, breakfast was waiting.
But Dracula was nowhere to be seen.
I ate alone.
Something has been bothering me for some time.
I have never once seen Dracula eat or drink.
What kind of man does not need food?
After breakfast, I decided to explore the castle.
I went upstairs and found a room facing south.
The view was breathtaking.
The castle stood directly beside a terrifying cliff.
A stone dropped from the window would fall nearly a thousand feet before hitting anything.
Below was an endless sea of green treetops.
Deep valleys cut through the forest.
Far away, rivers appeared as thin silver lines winding through the mountains.
Under normal circumstances, I would have been fascinated by the view.
But I could not enjoy it.
I continued exploring.
There were doors everywhere.
One after another.
Every single one was locked.
I searched for another way out.
There was none.
The only possible openings were the windows in the outer walls.
And those were far too high above the ground to use.
I finally understood the truth.
This castle is a prison.
And I am the prisoner.