#he said that whilst being so overwhelmed by the broken spirit of a man trying to will his team to score on the pp against a good goalie

[ratatatastic]

very important questions about the powerplay

post practise interview | 5.16.24 (x)

[anochuu]

injured!Kyōjurō x readers

⤧Fluff

⤧Very Slight Angst (if you squint your eyes)

The fight between Akaza ,the Upper Moon Three was beyond intense with Rengoku himself; even when (y/n) and Tanjirou was there, it seems impossible to defeat him. She didn't get hurt strangely because this particular demon claimed that he never fought a woman nor he will ever be but on the other hand, the Flame Pillar told her to move behind him and watch from the distance as he will take him on.

She believed in him;that the strongest Hashira will be able to win but all that hope turned her world upside down when the blood seeping out from his wounds are staining heavily in his uniform and haori; his face was battered and bruised,he might hit his head somewhere and had a cut whereas the red thick liquid oozes down covering one side of his profile.

That is when she felt the need to step in. So she worked with Tanjirou, guiding him throughout the whole fight.If he said he don't fight women,then she might as well become the bait while Tanjirou will be the one attacking him. She had asked Tanjirou to drag Rengoku away from the fight as it could hit him or even as a target. The order to retreat from him was obvious that Rengoku will chose to protect them both and fight to death.

Something that even in a thousand years she will never allow it to happen.

So She ignored him and continue to wield her sword,buying times until what felt like forever with more blood and sweats to spill,the dawn comes to a break leaving the now strong demon to flee out from the scene to protect himself from burning to death. She panted heavily,noticing Tanjirou who had the guts to ran after him into the woods,cursing at him that Rengoku Kyōjurō is the strongest Hashira will ever have,the irreplaceable Flame Pillar that have the responsibility to protect weak people as it is his job and will never abandon it even if it costs him his own life.

Relieved, (y/n) fell onto the ground feeling like all her energy as if sapped out.Though he said he don't fight women, he still manage to find ways to hurt her indirectly like purposely dodging Tanjirou's forms so it would hit her instead.

"(l/n)-san!" The boy came running back to her side, noticing how she is in pain, "Are you okay? I'm sorry i hit you with my sword! I didn't mean to! But he just sort of moved away so fast--!"

He continue to rant and right now it is not something so pleasant to hear.Don't get her wrong,she admire his spirit but there is more important thing to do.

"It's okay,Tanjirou.I'm alright,go help Rengoku,please."

He nodded firmly with a 'hmph!' and left her side to look after him.Her gaze hues follows him,crouching beside the yellow haired man who is on the brink of unconsciousness.For a moment his gaze travel from the boy and directly towards her but from the distance, she could not make out how is he looking at her.

Heaving a deep sigh,she let herself lie down on the dirt,closing both of her eyes as she overwhelmed with tiredness but later drifted off to a sleep where darkness greets her from the other side.

"Kocho,how is he?"

"Ah,if it isn't (l/n).How are you feeling?"

The perfect timing she met the Insect Pillar on her way inside the Butterfly estate where patients of the Demon Slayer will always be treated and taken care of under her wings along with the caretakers she have.

"I'm fine,i'm not hurt at all."

"Mhm, says your broken arm."

(y/n)’s eye twitched,it is so obvious she can never escape from her sharp eyes she is as if the professional doctor here after all.

"I'm really fine,it doesn't hurt anymore."

"If you say so!" She beams,smiling at her, "I don't know if i should say whether it is a lucky or a bad thing that you two encountered one of the Upper Moon Three considering the outcome."

She sighs, ignoring her remark, a little bit confuse to take it as a sarcasm or she genuinely meant it but Shinobu being Shinobu is a tricky woman after all.

"Can i see Rengoku please?" she averted the subject,

"Impatient to see your lover i see?" She giggles and (y/n) couldn't help but to turn into beet red,

"Whose lover!? Stop spreading such rumour!"

"Now now,no need to be shy.Everybody here already knows anyway."

Ugh

Is it true everybody thought that way? A part of her wanted to correct her but a part of her think it is better to remain quiet. Speaking of the truth, she can't deny how there is a chemistry between him and the Flame Pillar-there were intimate moments where they couldn't keep their hands off each other, the late night talks and the training together doesn't seems like an ordinary friendly meeting.

But at the same time he never had the choice to overcome whatever is between the two and confesses to her his true feelings as the same goes for her as well. So it is rather complicated. However the both latter cannot deny they are very concern for one another; overprotective especially Rengoku himself that despite his patriotic and passionate talks he always lose his composure whenever she is in to a danger mission.

"Don't give me that look,(y/n).It's a beautiful world i still want to live." Shinobu tease.

"Knock it off,Kocho." She groan, "Can i see him or not?"

"Of course of course,right this way please." She led her down the corridor and to the door at the last two of their left.

"We just stitched the hole on his stomach so try not to do anything to reopen them."

"What,like wrestling on the bed?" (y/n) meant it as a joke but Shinobu threw her a smug smirk which made herself panic with her own bidden words.

"I'll leave you two alone.Have fun~"

I swear i will hit her head someday just for her to learn her lesson

(y/n) took a deep breath in before letting out softly,sliding the door open that creaks faintly.Expecting to see him on bed fast asleep, he was sat up with his back adjacent to the frame behind him. Upon her arrival, he notices her and the usual smile on his face appears as if nothing has happened to him,

"Hello,(y/n)!" He greets, "How are you feeling?"

Is he seriously asking her that when he is the one on the operation table few weeks ago battling with death itself?

"Are you kidding me? how are you?" She went inside,closing the door behind her before taking a seat at the edge right in front of him,

"As you can see, it might take me a few more days until i can get back to duty again but i think i will be more than just fine."

Her eyes automatically glances towards his abdomen where the majority part of the wound is under that clothes.

"You have to take it easy.You took the largest blow out of any of us.He is strong but you cannot take him on alone again,do you understand?"

"It was the perfect time to fight him on that night that is what i thought; i won't miss the opportunity easily. I was prepared all of these to defeat them after all."

Her eyebrows furrowed; one thing that she never liked about him is the way he is thinking; his perception of himself to the world.

"You cannot fight him alone." (y/n)  repeated,a bubble of anger gurgling within her

"It is our responsibilities to protect the people.The reason why we became a Pillar is to prove ourselves that we can fulfil that duty.He is immensely strong i'll give him that,but that what makes me wanted to fight him again all the more."

Him and his damn patriotic words!

She knows very well that what he speaks are in fact,all the truths and there is no denying that the moment they signed up for this,they are willing to risk their lives to protect the weak,to make the world a better place. However, her heart and mind pointed out completely different currently.

How can he speaks of death so easily?

And who is she to forbid him from fighting? she have no rights at all.She is getting head of her emotions and that is the one thing she despise about herself.

"What if you get injured again? worst,get killed."

The smile never cease from his face,adding the fuel inside (y/n)’s burning heart,

"Then that is the honour i should redeem."

That is it!

"Are you mad!?" She fumed out of a blue,surprising the Pillar at her sudden outburst

"Can't you see that there is no possible way you could win back there!? Didn't you remember the pain of your own wound!?" She shot up from the bed,glaring at the male who had his eyes widened at her,blinking.

"He is the Upper Moon Three,Rengoku! And you insisted back there you wanted to fight him one on one! Were you out of your mind!? Is that how thirsty you are for power and killing? for reputation and image? Or was it because i wasn't even fit to fight alongside with you!?"

"Huh? No,(y/n)—"

"I saw you—you're bleeding,Rengoku.." Her volumised tone slowly fell,feeling the hot tears dangerously sitting on each corner of her eyes and her fingers balled into a pair of fists,clenching them tight until her knuckles turns white.

In the back of her head, she recalls the horrifying images- Rengoku lost a lot of blood,too much in fact that it scares her he might ended up dying because of it. She saw how Akaza's hand with his sharp claws went pierced through his abdomen where Shinobu explained to her earlier if he had moved a tad closer to the left,Rengoku would never survive from it.

"You are a selfish man,Rengoku!" She cries,reaching to clutch the material of his apparel upon his chest whilst her head hung down, not wanting to see the tears eventually stroll down her cheeks briskly from holding back.

"I just—" She took in a deep breath shakily,

"I couldn't watch you die."

His eyes widens; the pregnant of silence hovers in the air but her faint sobbing. In the end, he speaks,

"(y/n),you know i didn't mean it like that." His voice is so gentle that it might break her even more.

"Shut up." She snapped

"Look at me (y/n)."

She gulps down silently,shaking her head without uttering a single word as an answer. Rengoku lifted one hand,pinches the tip of her chin to make her face tilted upwards so now he can fully stare into her pair of golden eyes that went glossy with her tears.

"You know i never mean it like that. I never think of you as someone that's weak but you,are the strongest (element) and (element) breath user i have come to known ever." "I couldn't asked you to fight with me on that night because i too, am afraid he could hurt you."

Her eyes blinking slowly,taking in the words he had just explained to her wholeheartedly

"It is because he is very dangerous that i was too afraid that you will take all the hit for me knowing your characters so well." He pull her closer and she let him be; onto his lap though she do it very carefully as not to hurt his injuries,

One of his hand cradles the side of her face while the other held onto hers, intertwining their fingers. His thumb wipes the length of her cheek in attempt to wipe the tears away before kissing the corners lovingly-drinking the bitterness of her heart and her fear that the two shares

"Forgive me if i cause a misunderstanding and made you feel at fault.It turns out despite we are Pillars,i am afraid of losing you too."

"You are..?" She sniffs, and Rengoku laughs,taking her into his arms deeper

"Still am,my love." He pecks the side of her temple

"I actually tried to talked to Oyakata-sama to get us a separate team because all i do will ended up baby-ing you.I won't actually let you do anything!"

This made (y/n) finally chuckles, "It's your fault for flirting with me ever since we're just Mizunoto!"

"Hm? But it worked,didn't it?"

She huffs,muttering a 'yes' when she bury her nose into his broad chest,inhaling his scent deeper.

"(y/n),can i look at you again?"

"Why?" her voice muffled,not budging.

"I want to kiss you."

She pulls herself away just enough to admire his pair of beautiful sunset hues that always reminds her back then when they first met,she already found him very charming,she couldn't look away from his intense burning gaze.

"May i?" He asks,adding the red tints on her pale cheeks,

"You may.." her small,shy voice trails off.

Rengoku couldn't be more happy,leaning in to close the space between them and finally their lips mashed together,adding his weigh onto her as she arched her back.The kind of kiss that remind her he loves her so much that he would do anything to go through in this world to protect her; the kind of kiss is a clear sign that he adores her,he wants her.

[draculalive]

Dr. Seward's Diary

3 October. -- The time seemed terrible long whilst we were waiting for the coming of Godalming and Quincey Morris. The Professor tried to keep our minds active by using them all the time. I could see his beneficent purpose, by the side glances which he threw from time to time at Harker. The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a misery that is appalling to see. Last night he was a frank, happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. To-day he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well with the hollow burning eyes and grief-written lines of his face. His energy is still intact; in fact, he is like a living flame. This may yet be his salvation, for, if all go well, it will tide him over the despairing period; he will then, in a kind of way, wake again to the realities of life. Poor fellow, I thought my own trouble was bad enough, but his -- -- ! The Professor knows this well enough, and is doing his best to keep his mind active. What he has been saying was, under the circumstances, of absorbing interest. So well as I can remember, here it is:---

"I have studied, over and over again since they came into my hands, all the papers relating to this monster; and the more I have studied, the greater seems the necessity to utterly stamp him out. All through there are signs of his advance; not only of his power, but of his knowledge of it. As I learned from the researches of my friend Arminus of Buda-Pesth, he was in life a most wonderful man. Soldier, statesman, and alchemist -- which latter was the highest development of the science-knowledge of his time. He had a mighty brain, a learning beyond compare, and a heart that knew no fear and no remorse. He dared even to attend the Scholomance, and there was no branch of knowledge of his time that he did not essay. Well, in him the brain powers survived the physical death; though it would seem that memory was not all complete. In some faculties of mind he has been, and is, only a child; but he is growing, and some things that were childish at the first are now of man's stature. He is experimenting, and doing it well; and if it had not been that we have crossed his path he would be yet -- he may be yet if we fail -- the father or furtherer of a new order of beings, whose road must lead through Death, not Life."

Harker groaned and said, "And this is all arrayed against my darling! But how is he experimenting? The knowledge may help us to defeat him!"

"He has all along, since his coming, been trying his power, slowly but surely; that big child-brain of his is working. Well for us, it is, as yet, a child-brain; for had he dared, at the first, to attempt certain things he would long ago have been beyond our power. However, he means to succeed, and a man who has centuries before him can afford to wait and to go slow. Festina lente may well be his motto."

"I fail to understand," said Harker wearily. "Oh, do be more plain to me! Perhaps grief and trouble are dulling my brain."

The Professor laid his hand tenderly on his shoulder as he spoke:---

"Ah, my child, I will be plain. Do you not see how, of late, this monster has been creeping into knowledge experimentally. How he has been making use of the zoöphagous patient to effect his entry into friend John's home; for your Vampire, though in all afterwards he can come when and how he will, must at the first make entry only when asked thereto by an inmate. But these are not his most important experiments. Do we not see how at the first all these so great boxes were moved by others. He knew not then but that must be so. But all the time that so great child-brain of his was growing, and he began to consider whether he might not himself move the box. So he began to help; and then, when he found that this be all-right, he try to move them all alone. And so he progress, and he scatter these graves of him; and none but he know where they are hidden. He may have intend to bury them deep in the ground. So that he only use them in the night, or at such time as he can change his form, they do him equal well; and none may know these are his hiding-place! But, my child, do not despair; this knowledge come to him just too late! Already all of his lairs but one be sterilise as for him; and before the sunset this shall be so. Then he have no place where he can move and hide. I delayed this morning that so we might be sure. Is there not more at stake for us than for him? Then why we not be even more careful than him? By my clock it is one hour and already, if all be well, friend Arthur and Quincey are on their way to us. To-day is our day, and we must go sure, if slow, and lose no chance. See! there are five of us when those absent ones return."

Whilst he was speaking we were startled by a knock at the hall door, the double postman's knock of the telegraph boy. We all moved out to the hall with one impulse, and Van Helsing, holding up his hand to us to keep silence, stepped to the door and opened it. The boy handed in a despatch. The Professor closed the door again, and, after looking at the direction, opened it and read aloud.

"Look out for D. He has just now, 12:45, come from Carfax hurriedly and hastened towards the South. He seems to be going the round and may want to see you: Mina."

There was a pause, broken by Jonathan Harker's voice:---

"Now, God be thanked, we shall soon meet!" Van Helsing turned to him quickly and said:---

"God will act in His own way and time. Do not fear, and do not rejoice as yet; for what we wish for at the moment may be our undoings."

"I care for nothing now," he answered hotly, "except to wipe out this brute from the face of creation. I would sell my soul to do it!"

"Oh, hush, hush, my child!" said Van Helsing. "God does not purchase souls in this wise; and the Devil, though he may purchase, does not keep faith. But God is merciful and just, and knows your pain and your devotion to that dear Madam Mina. Think you, how her pain would be doubled, did she but hear your wild words. Do not fear any of us, we are all devoted to this cause, and to-day shall see the end. The time is coming for action; to-day this Vampire is limit to the powers of man, and till sunset he may not change. It will take him time to arrive here -- see, it is twenty minutes past one -- and there are yet some times before he can hither come, be he never so quick. What we must hope for is that my Lord Arthur and Quincey arrive first."

About half an hour after we had received Mrs. Harker's telegram, there came a quiet, resolute knock at the hall door. It was just an ordinary knock, such as is given hourly by thousands of gentlemen, but it made the Professor's heart and mine beat loudly. We looked at each other, and together moved out into the hall; we each held ready to use our various armaments -- the spiritual in the left hand, the mortal in the right. Van Helsing pulled back the latch, and, holding the door half open, stood back, having both hands ready for action. The gladness of our hearts must have shown upon our faces when on the step, close to the door, we saw Lord Godalming and Quincey Morris. They came quickly in and closed the door behind them, the former saying, as they moved along the hall:---

"It is all right. We found both places; six boxes in each and we destroyed them all!"

"Destroyed?" asked the Professor.

"For him!" We were silent for a minute, and then Quincey said:---

"There's nothing to do but to wait here. If, however, he doesn't turn up by five o’clock, we must start off; for it won't do to leave Mrs. Harker alone after sunset."

"He will be here before long now," said Van Helsing, who had been consulting his pocket-book. "Nota bene, in Madam's telegram he went south from Carfax, that means he went to cross the river, and he could only do so at slack of tide, which should be something before one o’clock. That he went south has a meaning for us. He is as yet only suspicious; and he went from Carfax first to the place where he would suspect interference least. You must have been at Bermondsey only a short time before him. That he is not here already shows that he went to Mile End next. This took him some time; for he would then have to be carried over the river in some way. Believe me, my friends, we shall not have long to wait now. We should have ready some plan of attack, so that we may throw away no chance. Hush, there is no time now. Have all your arms! Be ready!" He held up a warning hand as he spoke, for we all could hear a key softly inserted in the lock of the hall door.

I could not but admire, even at such a moment, the way in which a dominant spirit asserted itself. In all our hunting parties and adventures in different parts of the world, Quincey Morris had always been the one to arrange the plan of action, and Arthur and I had been accustomed to obey him implicitly. Now, the old habit seemed to be renewed instinctively. With a swift glance around the room, he at once laid out our plan of attack, and, without speaking a word, with a gesture, placed us each in position. Van Helsing, Harker, and I were just behind the door, so that when it was opened the Professor could guard it whilst we two stepped between the incomer and the door. Godalming behind and Quincey in front stood just out of sight ready to move in front of the window. We waited in a suspense that made the seconds pass with nightmare slowness. The slow, careful steps came along the hall; the Count was evidently prepared for some surprise -- at least he feared it.

Suddenly with a single bound he leaped into the room, winning a way past us before any of us could raise a hand to stay him. There was something so panther-like in the movement -- something so unhuman, that it seemed to sober us all from the shock of his coming. The first to act was Harker, who, with a quick movement, threw himself before the door leading into the room in the front of the house. As the Count saw us, a horrible sort of snarl passed over his face, showing the eye-teeth long and pointed; but the evil smile as quickly passed into a cold stare of lion-like disdain. His expression again changed as, with a single impulse, we all advanced upon him. It was a pity that we had not some better organised plan of attack, for even at the moment I wondered what we were to do. I did not myself know whether our lethal weapons would avail us anything. Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had ready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. The blow was a powerful one; only the diabolical quickness of the Count's leap back saved him. A second less and the trenchant blade had shorne through his heart. As it was, the point just cut the cloth of his coat, making a wide gap whence a bundle of bank-notes and a stream of gold fell out. The expression of the Count's face was so hellish, that for a moment I feared for Harker, though I saw him throw the terrible knife aloft again for another stroke. Instinctively I moved forward with a protective impulse, holding the Crucifix and Wafer in my left hand. I felt a mighty power fly along my arm; and it was without surprise that I saw the monster cower back before a similar movement made spontaneously by each one of us. It would be impossible to describe the expression of hate and baffled malignity -- of anger and hellish rage -- which came over the Count's face. His waxen hue became greenish-yellow by the contrast of his burning eyes, and the red scar on the forehead showed on the pallid skin like a palpitating wound. The next instant, with a sinuous dive he swept under Harker's arm, ere his blow could fall, and, grasping a handful of the money from the floor, dashed across the room, threw himself at the window. Amid the crash and glitter of the falling glass, he tumbled into the flagged area below. Through the sound of the shivering glass I could hear the "ting" of the gold, as some of the sovereigns fell on the flagging.

We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground. He, rushing up the steps, crossed the flagged yard, and pushed open the stable door. There he turned and spoke to us:---

"You think to baffle me, you -- with your pale faces all in a row, like sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think you have left me without a place to rest; but I have more. My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already; and through them you and others shall yet be mine -- my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah!" With a contemptuous sneer, he passed quickly through the door, and we heard the rusty bolt creak as he fastened it behind him. A door beyond opened and shut. The first of us to speak was the Professor, as, realising the difficulty of following him through the stable, we moved toward the hall.

"We have learnt something -- much! Notwithstanding his brave words, he fears us; he fear time, he fear want! For if not, why he hurry so? His very tone betray him, or my ears deceive. Why take that money? You follow quick. You are hunters of wild beast, and understand it so. For me, I make sure that nothing here may be of use to him, if so that he return." As he spoke he put the money remaining into his pocket; took the title-deeds in the bundle as Harker had left them, and swept the remaining things into the open fireplace, where he set fire to them with a match.

Godalming and Morris had rushed out into the yard, and Harker had lowered himself from the window to follow the Count. He had, however, bolted the stable door; and by the time they had forced it open there was no sign of him. Van Helsing and I tried to make inquiry at the back of the house; but the mews was deserted and no one had seen him depart.

It was now late in the afternoon, and sunset was not far off. We had to recognise that our game was up; with heavy hearts we agreed with the Professor when he said:---

"Let us go back to Madam Mina -- poor, poor dear Madam Mina. All we can do just now is done; and we can there, at least, protect her. But we need not despair. There is but one more earth-box, and we must try to find it; when that is done all may yet be well." I could see that he spoke as bravely as he could to comfort Harker. The poor fellow was quite broken down; now and again he gave a low groan which he could not suppress -- he was thinking of his wife.

With sad hearts we came back to my house, where we found Mrs. Harker waiting us, with an appearance of cheerfulness which did honour to her bravery and unselfishness. When she saw our faces, her own became as pale as death: for a second or two her eyes were closed as if she were in secret prayer; and then she said cheerfully:---

"I can never thank you all enough. Oh, my poor darling!" As she spoke, she took her husband's grey head in her hands and kissed it -- "Lay your poor head here and rest it. All will yet be well, dear! God will protect us if He so will it in His good intent." The poor fellow groaned. There was no place for words in his sublime misery.

We had a sort of perfunctory supper together, and I think it cheered us all up somewhat. It was, perhaps, the mere animal heat of food to hungry people -- for none of us had eaten anything since breakfast -- or the sense of companionship may have helped us; but anyhow we were all less miserable, and saw the morrow as not altogether without hope. True to our promise, we told Mrs. Harker everything which had passed; and although she grew snowy white at times when danger had seemed to threaten her husband, and red at others when his devotion to her was manifested, she listened bravely and with calmness. When we came to the part where Harker had rushed at the Count so recklessly, she clung to her husband's arm, and held it tight as though her clinging could protect him from any harm that might come. She said nothing, however, till the narration was all done, and matters had been brought right up to the present time. Then without letting go her husband's hand she stood up amongst us and spoke. Oh, that I could give any idea of the scene; of that sweet, sweet, good, good woman in all the radiant beauty of her youth and animation, with the red scar on her forehead, of which she was conscious, and which we saw with grinding of our teeth -- remembering whence and how it came; her loving kindness against our grim hate; her tender faith against all our fears and doubting; and we, knowing that so far as symbols went, she with all her goodness and purity and faith, was outcast from God.

"Jonathan," she said, and the word sounded like music on her lips it was so full of love and tenderness, "Jonathan dear, and you all my true, true friends, I want you to bear something in mind through all this dreadful time. I know that you must fight -- that you must destroy even as you destroyed the false Lucy so that the true Lucy might live hereafter; but it is not a work of hate. That poor soul who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all. Just think what will be his joy when he, too, is destroyed in his worser part that his better part may have spiritual immortality. You must be pitiful to him, too, though it may not hold your hands from his destruction."

As she spoke I could see her husband's face darken and draw together, as though the passion in him were shrivelling his being to its core. Instinctively the clasp on his wife's hand grew closer, till his knuckles looked white. She did not flinch from the pain which I knew she must have suffered, but looked at him with eyes that were more appealing than ever. As she stopped speaking he leaped to his feet, almost tearing his hand from hers as he spoke:---

"May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy that earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond it I could send his soul for ever and ever to burning hell I would do it!"

"Oh, hush! oh, hush! in the name of the good God. Don't say such things, Jonathan, my husband; or you will crush me with fear and horror. Just think, my dear -- I have been thinking all this long, long day of it -- that ... perhaps ... some day ... I, too, may need such pity; and that some other like you -- and with equal cause for anger -- may deny it to me! Oh, my husband! my husband, indeed I would have spared you such a thought had there been another way; but I pray that God may not have treasured your wild words, except as the heart-broken wail of a very loving and sorely stricken man. Oh, God, let these poor white hairs go in evidence of what he has suffered, who all his life has done no wrong, and on whom so many sorrows have come."

We men were all in tears now. There was no resisting them, and we wept openly. She wept, too, to see that her sweeter counsels had prevailed. Her husband flung himself on his knees beside her, and putting his arms round her, hid his face in the folds of her dress. Van Helsing beckoned to us and we stole out of the room, leaving the two loving hearts alone with their God.

Before they retired the Professor fixed up the room against any coming of the Vampire, and assured Mrs. Harker that she might rest in peace. She tried to school herself to the belief, and, manifestly for her husband's sake, tried to seem content. It was a brave struggle; and was, I think and believe, not without its reward. Van Helsing had placed at hand a bell which either of them was to sound in case of any emergency. When they had retired, Quincey, Godalming, and I arranged that we should sit up, dividing the night between us, and watch over the safety of the poor stricken lady. The first watch falls to Quincey, so the rest of us shall be off to bed as soon as we can. Godalming has already turned in, for his is the second watch. Now that my work is done I, too, shall go to bed.

[dong-hyucks]

fear is our enemy. | na jaemin [4]

➳ genre. spy!au, future!au, angst, minor fluff ➳ warnings. mentions of blood and death, character death in later chapters, swearing ➳ word count. 3.2k+ ➳ author’s note. admin cj wrote this b l e s s we are in the midst of a talented wriTER - admin. jade ➳ synopsis. [Y/N] Park, the adopted daughter of late director Park Minjun, crosses paths with Na Jaemin, a spy known for his aloof tendencies. now, they have to save her brother from an unexpected enemy.

➳ masterlists. | 1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8. | 9. | epilogue. 

  “That’s my brother sleeping,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. “And that,” you zoomed in, “is a shadow of a man with a gun.”

  Slowly, your whole body began to quake. Terror consumed even the darkest depths of your body, and Jaemin’s eyes went wide. If he could have one million tries to peg your personality, this wouldn’t even be in the top ten thousand. He never thought he’d see you look so broken. The pain in your eyes was almost unbearable, and the way your stitches gnarled your—what he could only assume—once gentle features was horrifying. 

  Jaemin just stared at you in disbelief for a few minutes. If you started to cry, he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t think your emotional spectrum was big enough to encompass this unbelievable amount of sorrow painted across your face—just anger and the occasional sprinkle of happiness that trickled through you daily life.

  “Hey,” Jaemin’s utterance was quiet—almost inaudible—his gaze burned into your tell-tale glare, “does his phone, perhaps, have a tracking app on it?” In an instant, your eyes brightened slightly and you dashed past him to Donghyuck’s cubicle-type office.

  You were sore all over, but none of it mattered. None of it fucking mattered. It wasn’t important that every time you placed your foot on the ground you flinched because it mimicked the sound of a gunshot, nor was it important that you had just left your assigned partner in the dust once again. All that you needed to find out was where Jisung was, and if he was safe. Your little brother had nothing to do with this, he was never involved. This was purely a dig at you.

  Baekhyun’s words were like an unhappy spirit that wouldn’t move on. They wouldn’t let go … not of you, not of anyone. The sentence was etched into your memory with the same knife that had cut through your skin. Through the blazing heat of your anger, you could remember bits and pieces of what he had said. “Chanyeol.”

  Then, Jongdae’s stammering response came back, “Park,” he had stammered, “Park Chanyeol.” Shuddering, you kept going, trying to clear your mind, but also stuffing it with new ideas simultaneously. Jaemin’s curt calls from behind you meant nothing as you walked down the seemingly endless hallway. Your breathing was unusually heavy and your heart was beating rapidly.

  Jaemin’s quick pace—one he rarely took—soon matched yours, but you paid no attention to him. “Y’know, you could’ve at least waited for me. It was my idea after all.” His utterance pierced the thick atmosphere like a sharp knife. The fiery glare that you cast at him did you no good, as he shot one back. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed and shoved him out of the way to open the entrance to Donghyuck’s work area.

  “What?” He paused. “No snarky comment? That’s new. I kind of like it; silence is a good look on you.” That remark set your insides ablaze. Your face burned with fury, but your mind was as cold as ice.

  “Oh,” you replied cooly, “I thought you already knew I didn’t care. Would you like me to say it out loud?” The gleam of amusement in Jaemin’s eyes hardened and he sneered at you, huffing and puffing as he made his way into the chilled space. Internally, you smirked triumphantly, but on the outside, your brow was creased in worry.

  As you walked into the cluttered sector of HQ, you grew surprised. Papers were strewn everywhere, computer parts were scattered about on the floor, and most of the desks were messy. Donghyuck’s eyes widened when you tapped his shoulder to bring him from the trance-like state he fell into while cleaning.  

  “I need your help.” Your voice softened word by word as you looked at all the cuts and bruises crowding his face. A grin played on his lips—it took away from the ugliness of the wounds. In an instant, the previous rage that had filled your body came back, and you whipped around to face Jaemin. His eyebrows flew up like they were challenging you to something, you sniffed and swiveled back to Donghyuck, trying to ignore Jaemin’s presence looming in the background.

   “Always,” he smiled, “what can I do for you, [Y/N]?” Donghyuck stood up and strolled to his computer, throwing glances over his shoulder every so often. When he reached his chair, he collapsed and spun to place his questioning gaze back on you.

  “Do you remember when you met my little brother?” Donghyuck nodded. “We put a tracker in his phone, right?” Nod. “Can you find it?” Nod. “Can you do it quickly?” Another nod. You pondered that fact, thinking back to your hacker days, trying to recall the day when Jisung had accidently saw you at “work.”

  “Just track it,” Jaemin interjected, breaking your train of thought. Despite your obvious dislike towards him, you silently thanked him, because you weren’t sure you would’ve been able to say it without mentally shutting down. Slowly but surely, you could feel the strong wall you had built up against reality begin to crumble, and it was killing you. You weren’t doing a great job convincing yourself that you could keep it together.

  Sneakily, Jaemin was peeking down at you—not in the least concerned, just validating his selfish worries. He couldn’t work with you if you were going to be a child—but you had no plans on doing so. Every time his eyes fluttered down to you, he noticed your hands doing something different. The first time, they were fiddling with your hair. The second, you were twiddling your thumbs. And, the third, your fingers flew across the keyboard, answering the security questions needed to access the tracking program.

  “Damn it, Jisung,” you cursed, “how the hell would I know the name of your first pet?” Jaemin laughed humorlessly to himself—and you, being trained in picking up small noises—pivoted your head, staring at him. “Would you like to try, Na Jaemin? Since you find this funny.”

  He straightened out immediately, and his solemn expression floated back onto his features. He stalked to the square letters and began to type, “F-L-U-F-F-Y,” he muttered under his breath as his long digits typed in the less-than-professional word. Pressing enter, he gazed victoriously at the screen. 

  “Find My iPhone is now locating—Park, fire emoji, fire emoji, Jisung’s iPhone.” As the speaker spat out the name, you looked up at the ceiling, and sent a silent prayer to anyone—or at this point anything—that happened to be listening. Fire emoji? Couldn’t it have just left them out? You just hope it found the phone fast.

  “[Y/N],” Donghyuck’s voice broke the tension in the air, “it’s in the alley behind Hakoya Ramen.” He copy and pasted the address, clicked into a new window, and tried to enhance the photo of it. “The only thing back there—” Donghyuck paused for awhile, seeming to have a mental debate on whether he should let the words slip from his mouth, or not, “—is a dumpster.” 

  In that instant, your heart stopped, and you felt yourself careening to the left. A dumpster. A dumpster was the worst place that Donghyuck could’ve said. You gripped your temples with both hands, and Jaemin whacked the back of your head with the palm of his hand. Donghyuck looked at him as white as a piece of printer paper, and rapidly rotated his chair to face the screen. Like an owl searching for its prey, your gaze whirled to meet his.

  “Standing there with your hands to your face isn’t going to get you to your brother faster,” Jaemin snorted, already on his way out. You hurried to catch up, not wanting to be in his shadow.

  “I was thinking of a plan, Jaemin,” you replied, voice taut. He exhaled sharply, wheeling around on the ball of his right foot. “Remind me to never ask you to make a quick decision then.” With that, a quietude fell upon the night, and neither of you spoke until you had reached the sleek, black travel vehicle. Jaemin gave the operator a slip of paper and muttered a single word before sitting back in his seat.

  “Drive.” 

  Arriving at Hakoya, the two of you were extremely conspicuous whilst climbing out of the van. If you were anywhere else—like on a mission, or at the airport—you wouldn’t have been noticed, but in front of the noodle shop, all customers could do was stare. You tilted your head down, partly because you didn’t want Jaemin to see the tiny tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes, and partly because you didn’t want anyone to recognize you. Admitting to being paranoid was an understatement.

  Jaemin wrenched your arm, pulling you into the dark backstreet. As soon as you caught a glimpse of the ineffably large trash heap, you stumbled a bit, feeling your stomach fold in on itself. He caught you just as you put a hand over your mouth. The slow, flaming sensation of vomit crawling up your throat was overwhelming, but you pushed it back down with a forceful swallow. Jaemin’s steps echoed as he neared the giant garbage can.

  “He’s your brother,” Jaemin chuckled, a bitter edge to his laughter, “you get to dumpster-dive.” Inching towards the metal contraption, you screwed your eyes shut and turned your nose up at the smell. It was almost unbearable, but you pressed on, hoping to locate something useful. Jaemin was showing no symapathy as he watched you dig through trash—but in his eyes, there was a glint on amusement. His gaze would’ve irritated you if a strong odor hadn’t captured your attention. 

  Soundlessly, you waved him over, no longer caring how much of an ass he had been. He awaited a comment, and you could sense him becoming impatient. It was only after a few minutes that you spoke.

  “Please,” you pleaded, “please tell me that it doesn’t smell like blood.” Jaemin walked to the place where you were pointing, and was suddenly bombarded with the foul stench of stale blood and sweat. He wrinkled his nose in protest, but kept feeling around—for anything, really. Jaemin’s body froze as his hand came in contact with razor-sharp shards of glass. Hastily, Jaemin retracted his gory appendage and muttered a string of profanities. After the spell of pain, he went right back in. But, this time, he pulled something out. While inspecting the object in his grasp, you became as still as a stone statue.

  “Goddammit,” Jaemin’s use of colorful language jerked you out of your living nightmare, “[Y/N], take the fucking thing out of my hands.” You speedily grabbed the picture frame, and watched as Jaemin ripped a portion of his black sleeve off to tie around the grotesque lacerations. Scrutinizing the rusted structure, you noted the crimson flecks that coated the outside of it. Instantaneously, the feeling of nausea—which you had become so dreadfully familiar with—washed over you. You choked on your own spit, trying to prevent yourself from heaving your protein bar up and onto the ground.

  “That’s—” your voice hit a snag, “that’s Jisung.” Jaemin trudged over to you, clutching his damaged arm to his side. You recalled the picture in vague detail. It was in the summer—right after Jisung’s school was out— and all of your family, your mother, your father, your older brother, and Jisung were all beaming. It was a sight to see. Everyone in your family—happy. The picture was unusual to say the least, but it was a treasured possession of yours, and you always left it with Donghyuck for safekeeping ... at his desk. 

  The seriousness of what was at hand was just beginning to set in, and your knees screeched in pain as they crashed to the cement below. Your youthful body should’ve been able to take the blow, but all you could do was sob. You knew where this picture was taken, and you knew where it was stolen from. It was photographed right after a successful mission against EXO. Your recollection explained the huge smiles on everyone’s faces—everyone except for Jisung. He was oblivious to the truth, he didn’t know that his whole family was apart of NCT, and that made your heart ache. When the break-in occurred, Baekhyun or Jongdae must’ve taken the photo as well as the documents. The thought itself was chilling, and you shivered, continuing to cry.

  All the while, Jaemin had already contacted HQ, getting the car to come back and pick the two of you up. In a few short minutes, he thumped the top of your head with a week-old, rotting newspaper. 

  “The car’s here.” His voice was strained, almost like someone was compressing it between both hands. “Get up, and let’s go.” You struggled to stand, and Jaemin grabbed your arms and roughly pulled you up, yanking you around the corner and onto the street. The van waited patiently, as you clambered into it.

  It drove into the darkness quietly. The engine humming a sweet melody as the yellow lines on the road began to move faster. The air was still, but it lacked the peace that one would usually find within it. As the seconds of the clock ticked by, your anger stewed and bubbled. 

  “Chanyeol,” you muttered, an acidic taste flooding your mouth, “Park Chanyeol.” Jaemin cocked a brow, but you didn’t offer him another word. You peered out the tinted window, hoping that you would see a corpse on your way back—preferably Park Chanyeol’s.

  You stormed back into HQ. Johnny tried to speak a hello, but you took no notice of his attempts at conversation. The look on your face should’ve been enough to send him—and others—running for the hills. Jaemin trailed closely behind you, lurking wordlessly in your wake. He knew exactly where you were going, but he decided not to disturb you, fearing for his life—and other, unmentionables he would like to keep.

  When you reached Taeyong’s office, your face was beyond the color red. In fact, it was almost blue. Jaemin couldn’t tell if you hadn’t breathing out of worry or if you were really that enraged. He didn’t know which choice scared him more, but he tried to keep his cynical remarks to a minimum.

  The loud clang that occurred when the metal structure of the picture frame crashed onto Taeyong’s desk resonated throughout the room. Sluggishly, Taeyong turned to peer at you. His eyes had a serious glint in them, one that practically spelled danger out on his forehead. But, in all honesty, you couldn’t have cared less. You stared back into his gaze with just as much ferocity. A twinkle of pride flashed across Taeyong’s features.

  “I want this DNA tested,” you growled, “now.” Taeyong clicked his tongue and drummed his fingers against the chipping wood of his work space. Though his stance was cold and his statements were sharp, you could just barely hear the empathy in his voice. 

  “I think you’re forgetting something, [Y/N].” The wide grin that spread over Taeyong’s mouth was enough to make the terrifying dread—that had consumed you once before—come back. In his challenging glare, something else skulked. It meant something, you could tell—and it wasn’t something good. You willed yourself to think back to the actual task at hand after capturing Baekhyun. 

  The documents. 

  “Oh. Oh, God,” you murmured, dizziness swamping your being. Jaemin exhaled deeply, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Working with you was exasperating, but it was a change from staring at a too-bright computer screen, in a too-dark room, in a too-boring place—so he would take it.

  “Didn’t you say something about a guy—” Jaemin’s ill-defined question penetrated the hushed feeling of the room jaggedly, “—Park, something?” Your eyes gained the small sparkle back, and Jaemin followed you out of Taeyong’s office as you carelessly sped down the hallway.

  “Chanyeol’s in on this,” you muttered, to no one in particular, “I just have to find out how.” It hurt Jaemin as he saw you trying to place all the pieces together in you brain. He wondered if you might literally blow a gasket if you worked any harder.

  “Are you sure you can handle this.” The teasing was back. “It’s looking a bit rough over there.” With a scowl that could kill a whole nation with just one glance, you glowered at Jaemin. He held his hands up in a fake surrender, waving them like tiny flags. “I was just saying.” The tone of his voice was mocking and it made your nostrils flare. At this point—steam was probably forming from your ears.

  “I don’t need you to say,” you retorted, “I need you to do.” Jaemin pursed his lips and frowned. You could tell he didn’t necessarily like your utterance, but he’s been alongside you for long enough now—Jaemin knows not to complain. “Now, go down to Donghyuck and see if he remembers anything from the occurrence.”

  The command was velvety and soft coming from your voice that was thick with sadness, but Jaemin complied, not daring to question you. As he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, you finally let yourself go. You backed into a wall, and sunk into a crouch. If Jaemin saw you like this, the taunting would never end, and it would be no one’s fault but your own. Warm tears trickled down your cheeks and dribbled onto your arms. The thin liquid tormented you as the salt stains became clear on your face. You buried your face in your crossed arms and wailed. At times like these, it was helpful to have soundproof corridors.

  “[Y/N], what happened?” Chenle’s innocent inquiry rang out from the other side opposite end, where the entrance to Taeyong’s office was. “Weren’t you just with Jaemin?” When Chenle mentioned Jaemin’s name, your head snapped up from where it was hanging, but you were undoubtedly disappointed. He hadn’t come back with information. It was just Chenle— which made you no happier than you had been a few moments ago.

 “It’s Jisung, Chenle.” Although your reply was low and hard to hear, it cracked and broke just the same. Chenle stared at you—his eyes glazing with pity and sorrow. They fragmented your already crushed heart. “He’s gone.”

  “Wh-Who would’ve done that?”  Even though you had no concrete evidence, you eyed Chenle murderously. The gleam in your eye was venomous enough to kill even the most poisonous snake. He stumbled back a bit—having never seen you like this before. You could practically feel his heart beating like a nervous rabbit’s.

  “I think you know who, Chenle,” you snarled, ripping yourself viciously from your place on the brick patterns, “what I need to find out��is why.” Your words were a big indicator for him, and his mouth dropped open.

  “Chanyeol?” He asked. Nodding grimly, you began to walk to the computer rooms with Chenle in tow.

  “I’ll tell Donghyuck to start tracking as soon as I find him.” Chenle’s declaration was music to your ears, and you faced him, brandishing a wicked smirk. He struggled with himself, trying not to run to his desk, scared out of his mind. Whipping back around, you carried on to where the light of outside met the blackness that dimmed the compound.

  “Good.” 

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DR. SEWARD'S DIARY

3 October. - The time seemed teribly long whilst we were waiting for the coming of Godalming and Quincey Morris. The Professor tried to keep our minds active by using them all the time. I could see his beneficent purpose, by the side glances which he threw from time to time at Harker. The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a misery that is appalling to see. Last night he was a frank, happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. Today he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well with the hollow burning eyes and grief-written lines of his face. His energy is still intact. In fact, he is like a living flame. This may yet be his salvation, for if all go well, it will tide him over the despairing period. He will then, in a kind of way, wake again to the realities o f life. Poor fellow, I thought my own trouble was bad enough, but his. . .! The Professor knows this well enough, and is doing his best to keep his mind active. What he has been saying was, under the circumstances, of absorbing interest. So well as I can remember, here it is: "I have studied, over and over again since they came into my hands, all the papers relating to this monster, and the more I have studied, the greater seems the necessity to utterly stamp him out. All through there are signs of his advance. Not only of his power, but of his knowledge of it. As I learned from the researches of my friend Arminius of Buda-Pesth, he was in life a most wonderful man. Soldier, statesman, and alchemist. Which latter was the highest development of the science knowledge of his time. He had a mighty brain, a learning beyond compare, and a heart that knew no fear and no remorse. He dared even to attend the Scholomance, and there was no branch of knowledge of his time that he did not essay. "Well, in him the brain powers survived the physical death. Though it would seem that memory was not all complete. In some faculties of mind he has been, and is, only a child. But he is growing, and some things that were childish at the first are now of man's stature. He is experimenting, and doing it well. And if it had not been that we have crossed his path he would be yet, he may be yet if we fail, the father or furtherer of a new order of beings, whose road must lead through Death, not Life." Harker groaned and said, "And this is all arrayed against my darling! But how is he experimenting? The knowledge may help us to defeat him!" "He has all along, since his coming, been trying his power, slowly but surely. That big child-brain of his is working. Well for us, it is as yet, a child-brain. For had he dared, at the first, to attempt certain things he would long ago have been beyond our power. However, he means to succeed, and a man who has centuries before him can afford to wait and to go slow. Festina lente may well be his motto." "I fail to understand," said Harker wearily. "Oh, do be more plain to me! Perhaps grief and trouble are dulling my brain." The Professor laid his hand tenderly on his shoulder as he spoke, "Ah, my child, I will be plain. Do you not see how, of late, this monster has been creeping into knowledge experimentally. How he has been making use of the zoophagous patient to effect his entry into friend John's home. For your Vampire, though in all afterwards he can come when and how he will, must at the first make entry only when asked thereto by an inmate. But these are not his most important experiments. Do we not see how at the first all these so great boxes were moved by others. He knew not then but that must be so. But all the time that so great child-brain of his was growing, and he began to consider whether he might not himself move the box. So he began to help. And then, when he found that this be all right, he try to move them all alone. And so he progress, and he scatter these graves of him. And none but he know where they are hidden. "He may have intend to bury them deep in the ground. So that only he use them in the night, or at such time as he can change his form, they do him equal well, and none may know these are his hiding place! But, my child, do not despair, this knowledge came to him just too late! Already all of his lairs but one be sterilize as for him. And before the sunset this shall be so. Then he have no place where he can move and hide. I delayed this morning that so we might be sure. Is there not more at stake for us than for him? Then why not be more careful than him? By my clock it is one hour and already, if all be well, friend Arthur and Quincey are on their way to us. Today is our day, and we must go sure, if slow, and lose no chance. See! There are five of us when those absent ones return." Whilst we were speaking we were startled by a knock at the hall door, the double postman's knock of the telegraph boy. We all moved out to the hall with one impulse, and Van Helsing, holding up his hand to us to keep silence, stepped to the door and opened it. The boy handed in a dispatch. The Professor closed the door again, and after looking at the direction, opened it and read aloud. "Look out for D. He has just now, 12:45, come from Carfax hurriedly and hastened towards the South. He seems to be going the round and may want to see you: Mina." There was a pause, broken by Jonathan Harker's voice, "Now, God be thanked, we shall soon meet!" Van Helsing turned to him quickly and said, "God will act in His own way and time. Do not fear, and do not rejoice as yet. For what we wish for at the moment may be our own undoings." "I care for nothing now," he answered hotly, "except to wipe out this brute from the face of creation. I would sell my soul to do it!" "Oh, hush, hush, my child!" said Van Helsing. "God does not purchase souls in this wise, and the Devil, though he may purchase, does not keep faith. But God is merciful and just, and knows your pain and your devotion to that dear Madam Mina. Think you, how her pain would be doubled, did she but hear your wild words. Do not fear any of us, we are all devoted to this cause, and today shall see the end. The time is coming for action. Today this Vampire is limit to the powers of man, and till sunset he may not change. It will take him time to arrive here, see it is twenty minutes past one, and there are yet some times before he can hither come, be he never so quick. What we must hope for is that my Lord Arthur and Quincey arrive first." About half an hour after we had received Mrs. Harker's telegram, there came a quiet, resolute knock at the hall door. It was just an ordinary knock, such as is given hourly by thousands of gentlemen, but it made the Professor's heart and mine beat loudly. We looked at each other, and together moved out into the hall. We each held ready to use our various armaments, the spiritual in the left hand, the mortal in the right. Van Helsing pulled back the latch, and holding the door half open, stood back, having both hands ready for action. The gladness of our hearts must have shown upon our faces when on the step, close to the door, we saw Lord Godalming and Quincey Morris. They came quickly in and closed the door behind them, the former saying, as they moved along the hall. "It is all right. We found both places. Six boxes in each and we destroyed them all." "Destroyed?" asked the Professor. "For him!" We were silent for a minute, and then Quincey said, "There's nothing to do but to wait here. If, however, he doesn't turn up by five o'clock, we must start off. For it won't do to leave Mrs. Harker alone after sunset." "He will be here before long now,' said Van Helsing, who had been consulting his pocketbook. "Nota bene, in Madam's telegram he went south from Carfax. That means he went to cross the river, and he could only do so at slack of tide, which should be something before one o'clock. That he went south has a meaning for us. He is as yet only suspicious, and he went from Carfax first to the place where he would suspect interference least. You must have been at Bermondsey only a short time before him. That he is not here already shows that he went to Mile End next. This took him some time, for he would then have to be carried over the river in some way. Believe me, my friends, we shall not have long to wait now. We should have ready some plan of attack, so that we may throw away no chance. Hush, there is no time now. Have all your arms! Be ready!" He held up a warning hand as he spoke, for we all could hear a key softly inserted in the lock of the hall door. I could not but admire, even at such a moment, the way in which a dominant spirit asserted itself. In all our hunting parties and adventures in different parts of the world, Quincey Morris had always been the one to arrange the plan of action, and Arthur and I had been accustomed to obey him implicitly. Now, the old habit seemed to be renewed instinctively. With a swift glance around the room, he at once laid out our plan of attack, and without speaking a word, with a gesture, placed us each in position. Van Helsing, Harker, and I were just behind the door, so that when it was opened the Professor could guard it whilst we two stepped between the incomer and the door. Godalming behind and Quincey in front stood just out of sight ready to move in front of the window. We waited in a suspense that made the seconds pass with nightmare slowness. The slow, careful steps came along the hall. The Count was evidently prepared for some surprise, at least he feared it. Suddenly with a single bound he leaped into the room. Winning a way past us before any of us could raise a hand to stay him. There was something so pantherlike in the movement, something so unhuman, that it seemed to sober us all from the shock of his coming. The first to act was Harker, who with a quick movement, threw himself before the door leading into the room in the front of the house. As the Count saw us, a horrible sort of snarl passed over his face, showing the eyeteeth long and pointed. But the evil smile as quickly passed into a cold stare of lion-like disdain. His expression again changed as, with a single impulse, we all advanced upon him. It was a pity that we had not some better organized plan of attack, for even at the moment I wondered what we were to do. I did not myself know whether our lethal weapons would avail us anything. Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had ready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. The blow was a powerful one. Only the diabolical quickness of the Count's leap back saved him. A second less and the trenchant blade had shorn through his coat, making a wide gap whence a bundle of bank notes and a stream of gold fell out. The expression of the Count's face was so hellish, that for a moment I feared for Harker, though I saw him throw the terrible knife aloft again for another stroke. Instinctively I moved forward with a protective impulse, holding the Crucifix and Wafer in my left hand. I felt a mighty power fly along my arm, and it was without surprise that I saw the monster cower back before a similar movement made spontaneously by each one of us. It would be impossible to describe the expression of hate and baffled malignity, of anger and hellish rage, which came over the Count's face. His waxen hue became greenish-yellow by the contrast of his burning eyes, and the red scar on the forehead showed on the pallid skin like a palpitating wound. The next instant, with a sinuous dive he swept under Harker's arm, ere his blow could fall, and grasping a handful of the money from the floor, dashed across the room, threw himself at the window. Amid the crash and glitter of the falling glass, he tumbled into the flagged area below. Through the sound of the shivering glass I could hear the "ting" of the gold, as some of the sovereigns fell on the flagging. We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground. He, rushing up the steps, crossed the flagged yard, and pushed open the stable door. There he turned and spoke to us. "You think to baffle me, you with your pale faces all in a row, like sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think you have left me without a place to rest, but I have more. My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already. And through them you and others shall yet be mine, my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah!" With a contemptuous sneer, he passed quickly through the door, and we heard the rusty bolt creak as he fastened it behind him. A door beyond opened and shut. The first of us to speak was the Professor. Realizing the difficulty of following him through the stable, we moved toward the hall. "We have learnt something. . .much! Notwithstanding his brave words, he fears us. He fears time, he fears want! For if not, why he hurry so? His very tone betray him, or my ears deceive. Why take that money? You follow quick. You are hunters of the wild beast, and understand it so. For me, I make sure that nothing here may be of use to him, if so that he returns." As he spoke he put the money remaining in his pocket, took the title deeds in the bundle as Harker had left them, and swept the remaining things into the open fireplace, where he set fire to them with a match. Godalming and Morris had rushed out into the yard, and Harker had lowered himself from the window to follow the Count. He had, however, bolted the stable door, and by the time they had forced it open there was no sign of him. Van Helsing and I tried to make inquiry at the back of the house. But the mews was deserted and no one had seen him depart. It was now late in the afternoon, and sunset was not far off. We had to recognize that our game was up. With heavy hearts we agreed with the Professor when he said, "Let us go back to Madam Mina. Poor, poor dear Madam Mina. All we can do just now is done, and we can there, at least, protect her. But we need not despair. There is but one more earth box, and we must try to find it. When that is done all may yet be well." I could see that he spoke as bravely as he could to comfort Harker. The poor fellow was quite broken down, now and again he gave a low groan which he could not suppress. He was thinking of his wife. With sad hearts we came back to my house, where we found Mrs. Harker waiting us, with an appearance of cheerfulness which did honor to her bravery and unselfishness. When she saw our faces, her own became as pale as death. For a second or two her eyes were closed as if she were in secret prayer. And then she said cheerfully, "I can never thank you all enough. Oh, my poor darling!" As she spoke, she took her husband's grey head in her hands and kissed it. "Lay your poor head here and rest it. All will yet be well, dear! God will protect us if He so will it in His good intent." The poor fellow groaned. There was no place for words in his sublime misery. We had a sort of perfunctory supper together, and I think it cheered us all up somewhat. It was, perhaps, the mere animal heat of food to hungry people, for none of us had eaten anything since breakfast, or the sense of companionship may have helped us, but anyhow we were all less miserable, and saw the morrow as not altogether without hope. True to our promise, we told Mrs. Harker everything which had passed. And although she grew snowy white at times when danger had seemed to threaten her husband, and red at others when his devotion to her was manifested she listened bravely and with calmness. When we came to the part where Harker had rushed at the Count so recklessly, she clung to her husband's arm, and held it tight as though her clinging could protect him from any harm that might come. She said nothing, however, till the narration was all done, and matters had been brought up to the present time. Then without letting go her husband's hand she stood up amongst us and spoke. Oh, that I could give any idea of the scene. Of that sweet, sweet, good, good woman in all the radiant beauty of her youth and animation, with the red scar on her forehead, of which she was conscious, and which we saw with grinding of our teeth, remembering whence and how it came. Her loving kindness against our grim hate. Her tender faith against all our fears and doubting. And we, knowing that so far as symbols went, she with all her goodness and purity and faith, was outcast from God. "Jonathan," she said, and the word sounded like music on her lips it was so full of love and tenderness, "Jonathan dear, and you all my true, true friends, I want you to bear something in mind through all this dreadful time. I know that you must fight. That you must destroy even as you destroyed the false Lucy so that the true Lucy might live hereafter. But it is not a work of hate. That poor soul who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all. Just think what will be his joy when he, too, is destroyed in his worser part that his better part may have spiritual immortality. You must be pitiful to him, too, though it may not hold your hands from his destruction." As she spoke I could see her husband's face darken and draw together, as though the passion in him were shriveling his being to its core. Instinctively the clasp on his wife's hand grew closer, till his knuckles looked white. She did not flinch from the pain which I knew she must have suffered, but looked at him with eyes that were more appealing than ever. As she stopped speaking he leaped to his feet, almost tearing his hand from hers as he spoke. "May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy that earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond it I could send his soul forever and ever to burning hell I would do it!" "Oh, hush! Oh, hush in the name of the good God. Don't say such things, Jonathan, my husband, or you will crush me with fear and horror. Just think, my dear. . .I have been thinking all this long, long day of it. . .that. . . perhaps. . .some day. . . I, too, may need such pity, and that some other like you, and with equal cause for anger, may deny it to me! Oh, my husband! My husband, indeed I would have spared you such a thought had there been another way. But I pray that God may not have treasured your wild words, except as the heart-broken wail of a very loving and sorely stricken man. Oh, God, let these poor white hairs go in evidence of what he has suffered, who all his life has done no wrong, and on whom so many sorrows have come." We men were all in tears now. There was no resisting them, and we wept openly. She wept, too, to see that her sweeter counsels had prevailed. Her husband flung himself on his knees beside her, and putting his arms round her, hid his face in the folds of her dress. Van Helsing beckoned to us and we stole out of the room, leaving the two loving hearts alone with their God. Before they retired the Professor fixed up the room against any coming of the Vampire, and assured Mrs. Harker that she might rest in peace. She tried to school herself to the belief, and manifestly for her husband's sake, tried to seem content. It was a brave struggle, and was, I think and believe, not without its reward. Van Helsing had placed at hand a bell which either of them was to sound in case of any emergency. When they had retired, Quincey, Godalming, and I arranged that we should sit up, dividing the night between us, and watch over the safety of the poor stricken lady. The first watch falls to Quincey, so the rest of us shall be off to bed as soon as we can. Godalming has already turned in, for his is the second watch. Now that my work is done I, too, shall go to bed. JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL 3-4 October, close to midnight. - I thought yesterday would never end. There was over me a yearning for sleep, in some sort of blind belief that to wake would be to find things changed, and that any change must now be for the better. Before we parted, we discussed what our next step was to be, but we could arrive at no result. All we knew was that one earth box remained, and that the Count alone knew where it was. If he chooses to lie hidden, he may baffle us for years. And in the meantime, the thought is too horrible, I dare not think of it even now. This I know, that if ever there was a woman who was all perfection, that one is my poor wronged darling. I loved her a thousand times more for her sweet pity of last night, a pity that made my own hate of the monster seem despicable. Surely God will not permit the world to be the poorer by the loss of such a creature. This is hope to me. We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our only anchor. Thank God! Mina is sleeping, and sleeping without dreams. I fear what her dreams might be like, with such terrible memories to ground them in. She has not been so calm, within my seeing, since the sunset. Then, for a while, there came over her face a repose which was like spring after the blasts of March. I thought at the time that it was the softness of the red sunset on her face, but somehow now I think it has a deeper meaning. I am not sleepy myself, though I am weary. . .weary to death. However, I must try to sleep. For there is tomorrow to think of, and there is no rest for me until. . . Later - I must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened by Mina, who was sitting up in bed, with a startled look on her face. I could see easily, for we did not leave the room in darkness. She had placed a warning hand over my mouth, and now she whispered in my ear, "Hush! There is someone in the corridor!" I got up softly, and crossing the room, gently opened the door. Just outside, stretched on a mattress, lay Mr. Morris, wide awake. He raised a warning hand for silence as he whispered to me, "Hush! Go back to bed. It is all right. One of us will be here all night. We don't mean to take any chances!" His look and gesture forbade discussion, so I came back and told Mina. She sighed and positively a shadow of a smile stole over her poor, pale face as she put her arms round me and said softly, "Oh, thank God for good brave men!" With a sigh she sank back again to sleep. I write this now as I am not sleepy, though I must try again. 4 October, morning. - Once again during the night I was wakened by Mina. This time we had all had a good sleep, for the grey of the coming dawn was making the windows into sharp oblongs, and the gas flame was like a speck rather than a disc of light. She said to me hurriedly, "Go, call the Professor. I want to see him at once." "Why?" I asked. "I have an idea. I suppose it must have come in the night, and matured without my knowing it. He must hypnotize me before the dawn, and then I shall be able to speak. Go quick, dearest, the time is getting close." I went to the door. Dr. Seward was resting on the mattress, and seeing me, he sprang to his feet. "Is anything wrong?" he asked, in alarm. "No," I replied. "But Mina wants to see Dr. Van Helsing at once." "I will go," he said, and hurried into the Professor's room. Two or three minutes later Van Helsing was in the room in his dressing gown, and Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming were with Dr. Seward at the door asking questions. When the Professor saw Mina a smile, a positive smile ousted the anxiety of his face. He rubbed his hands as he said, "Oh, my dear Madam Mina, this is indeed a change. See! Friend Jonathan, we have got our dear Madam Mina, as of old, back to us today!" Then turning to her, he said cheerfully, "And what am I to do for you? For at this hour you do not want me for nothing." "I want you to hypnotize me!" she said. "Do it before the dawn, for I feel that then I can speak, and speak freely. Be quick, for the time is short!" Without a word he motioned her to sit up in bed. Looking fixedly at her, he commenced to make passes in front of her, from over the top of her head downward, with each hand in turn. Mina gazed at him fixedly for a few minutes, during which my own heart beat like a trip hammer, for I felt that some crisis was at hand. Gradually her eyes closed, and she sat, stock still. Only by the gentle heaving of her bosom could one know that she was alive. The Professor made a few more passes and then stopped, and I could see that his forehead was covered with great beads of perspiration. Mina opened her eyes, but she did not seem the same woman. There was a far-away look in her eyes, and her voice had a sad dreaminess which was new to me. Raising his hand to impose silence, the Professor motioned to me to bring the others in. They came on tiptoe, closing the door behind them, and stood at the foot of the bed, looking on. Mina appeared not to see them. The stillness was broken by Van Helsing's voice speaking in a low level tone which would not break the current of her thoughts. "Where are you?" The answer came in a neutral way. "I do not know. Sleep has no place it can call its own." For several minutes there was silence. Mina sat rigid, and the Professor stood staring at her fixedly. The rest of us hardly dared to breathe. The room was growing lighter. Without taking his eyes from Mina's face, Dr. Van Helsing motioned me to pull up the blind. I did so, and the day seemed just upon us. A red streak shot up, and a rosy light seemed to diffuse itself through the room. On the instant the Professor spoke again. "Where are you now?" The answer came dreamily, but with intention. It were as though she were interpreting something. I have heard her use the same tone when reading her shorthand notes. "I do not know. It is all strange to me!" "What do you see?" "I can see nothing. It is all dark." "What do you hear?" I could detect the strain in the Professor's patient voice. "The lapping of water. It is gurgling by, and little waves leap. I can hear them on the outside." "Then you are on a ship?'" We all looked at each other, trying to glean something each from the other. We were afraid to think. The answer came quick, "Oh, yes!" "What else do you hear?" "The sound of men stamping overhead as they run about. There is the creaking of a chain, and the loud tinkle as the check of the capstan falls into the ratchet." "What are you doing?" "I am still, oh so still. It is like death!" The voice faded away into a deep breath as of one sleeping, and the open eyes closed again. By this time the sun had risen, and we were all in the full light of day. Dr. Van Helsing placed his hands on Mina's shoulders, and laid her head down softly on her pillow. She lay like a sleeping child for a few moments, and then, with a long sigh, awoke and stared in wonder to see us all around her. "Have I been talking in my sleep?" was all she said. She seemed, however, to know the situation without telling, though she was eager to know what she had told. The Professor repeated the conversation, and she said, "Then there is not a moment to lose. It may not be yet too late!" Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming started for the door but the Professor's calm voice called them back. "Stay, my friends. That ship, wherever it was, was weighing anchor at the moment in your so great Port of London. Which of them is it that you seek? God be thanked that we have once again a clue, though whither it may lead us we know not. We have been blind somewhat. Blind after the manner of men, since we can look back we see what we might have seen looking forward if we had been able to see what we might have seen! Alas, but that sentence is a puddle, is it not? We can know now what was in the Count's mind, when he seize that money, though Jonathan's so fierce knife put him in the danger that even he dread. He meant escape. Hear me, ESCAPE! He saw that with but one earth box left, and a pack of men following like dogs after a fox, this London was no place for him. He have take his last earth box on board a ship, and he leave the land. He think to escape, but no! We follow him. Tally Ho! As friend Arthur would say when he put on his red frock! Our old fox is wily. Oh! So wily, and we must follow with wile. I, too, am wily and I think his mind in a little while. In meantime we may rest and in peace, for there are between us which he do not want to pass, and which he could not if he would. Unless the ship were to touch the land, and then only at full or slack tide. See, and the sun is just rose, and all day to sunset is us. Let us take bath, and dress, and have breakfast which we all need, and which we can eat comfortably since he be not in the same land with us." Mina looked at him appealingly as she asked, "But why need we seek him further, when he is gone away from us?" He took her hand and patted it as he replied, "Ask me nothing as yet. When we have breakfast, then I answer all questions." He would say no more, and we separated to dress. After breakfast Mina repeated her question. He looked at her gravely for a minute and then said sorrowfully, "Because my dear, dear Madam Mina, now more than ever must we find him even if we have to follow him to the jaws of Hell!" She grew paler as she asked faintly, "Why?" "Because," he answered solemnly, "he can live for centuries, and you are but mortal woman. Time is now to be dreaded, since once he put that mark upon your throat." I was just in time to catch her as she fell forward in a faint.