#I bet the Harkers look at their pocket watches habitually now

[see-arcane]

Something that I am rotating in my head after the Crew has written their wills is... They are all together, in a lunatic asylum. Mina's eyes are harder. There is no train to Varna for a week. They all share the same space. In a madhouse, going insane. Mina's fangs are sharper. Seward feels another cold shiver. She shares a bed with her husband. They all have written their wills. The vampire is away and the vampire is right here.

Each night the clock ticks like a hourglass of blood.

They are sitting trapped between two Hells.

Tick.

One is fully formed. One is growing around them.

Tock.

Each night makes the latter bud a little redder, a little sharper.

Tick.

And the Harkers sink a little deeper into its Pit.

Tock.