#nina reads dracula 🦇

[ninadove]

Well, guys, we’re finally doing it. After two years of being subscribed to the newsletter but never actually taking the time to read the god-damned e-mails, I am finally committing to reading Dracula Daily.

So I’m going to dump my thoughts here as if it were the AO3 comment section. Bear with me.

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 3rd

We start off very strongly with an excellent instance of food-as-a-metaphor for love:

“(Mem., get recipe for Mina.)” 🥺

From here, it only gets better:

“I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams (me too, Jonathan). There was a dog howling all night under my window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been the paprika (!!!), for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping soundly then.

I had for breakfast MORE PAPRIKA —”

King of not learning from his mistakes!!! Love this for him!!! Also, excellent taste.

I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata." (Mem., get recipe for this also.

AU in which Jonathan runs a culinary blog and weird paranormal stuff keeps making its way into his posts 🍝👻

My Friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

Your friend,

DRACULA.

Such a friendly gentleman 🥰 You know you can trust him from the way he declares his friendship twice in the same note 🥰 Which is a thing friends do 🥰

I absolutely love that the note starts and ends with these declarations. It feels like a trap… but surely our good friend Dracula could never…

Sleep well tonight… 🦇

Next >

[ninadove]

Happy Sloppy Letter (in more ways than one) Day to those who celebrate!

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 15th

MY GOOD FRIEND JONATHAN HARKER IS ALIVE AND —

Once more have I seen the Count go out in his lizard fashion.

— 1,000,000% done with this shit apparently. Good for him.

That key must be in the Count's room; I must watch should his door be unlocked, so that I may get it and escape. I went on to make a thorough examination of the various stairs and passages, and to try the doors that opened from them.

SMART BOY SMART BOY!!!!! I love how quickly he bounces back into action!!!

The castle was built on the corner of a great rock, so that on three sides it was quite impregnable, (!!!) and great windows were placed here where sling, or bow, or culverin could not reach, and consequently light and comfort, impossible to a position which had to be guarded, were secured. […] To the west was a great valley, and then, rising far away, great jagged mountain fastnesses, (!!!) rising peak on peak, the sheer rock studded with mountain ash and thorn, whose roots clung in cracks and crevices and crannies of the stone.

In other words it is the perfect prison. Cool cool cool cool cool.

My lamp seemed to be of little effect in the brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me, for there was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart and made my nerves tremble.

😭

Here I am, sitting at a little oak table where in old times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with much thought and many blushes, her ill-spelt love-letter, and writing in my diary in shorthand all that has happened since I closed it last.

OK OK the thought did occur to me during the shaving scene but now that I see more crumbs: Transfem Jonathan everyone? Anyone…?

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 17th

OK HERE WE GO I AM MENTALLY PREPARED TO LEARN ABOUT LUCY’S DEA —

Lucy Westenra's Diary.

Nevermind that. Guess I’ll have to do it all over again.

Four days and nights of peace. I am getting so strong again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed through some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me. I have a dim half-remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing; darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present distress more poignant: and then long spells of oblivion, and the rising back to life as a diver coming up through a great press of water.

The pain of hope alright…

To-night Dr. Van Helsing is going away, as he has to be for a day in Amsterdam. But I need not be watched; I am well enough to be left alone.

‘Cause here we go, go, go again 🎶

Thank God for mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our friends who have been so kind! I shall not even feel the change, for last night Dr. Van Helsing slept in his chair a lot of the time. I found him asleep twice when I awoke; but I did not fear to go to sleep again, although the boughs or bats or something napped almost angrily against the window-panes.

EVERYONE. IS TRYING. SO HARD.

Anyways BACK TO RENFIELD:

Suddenly the door was burst open, and in rushed my patient, with his face distorted with passion. I was thunderstruck, for such a thing as a patient getting of his own accord into the Superintendent's study is almost unknown.

Right. But he did escape the facility itself twice, including once with your complicity. So maybe the safety protocols need a liiittle bit of reassessing here.

Without an instant's pause he made straight at me. He had a dinner-knife in his hand, and, as I saw he was dangerous, I tried to keep the table between us. He was too quick and too strong for me, however; for before I could get my balance he had struck at me and cut my left wrist rather severely.

FIGHT!!!!! FIGHT!!!!! FIGHT!!!!! FIGHT!!!!

He was lying on his belly on the floor licking up, like a dog, the blood which had fallen from my wounded wrist. He was easily secured, and, to my surprise, went with the attendants quite placidly, simply repeating over and over again: "The blood is the life! The blood is the life!"

Renfield’s DYI Guide to Vampirism: now available in a bookstore near you!

I cannot afford to lose blood just at present;

This is a terrifying and strangely sweet thought and I will be reusing this turn of phrase.

Happily Van Helsing has not summoned me, so I need not forego my sleep; to-night I could not well do without it.

Telegram, Van Helsing, Antwerp, to Seward, Carfax. Do not fail to be at Hillingham to-night.

Now that’s what I call comedic timing.

Anyways back to… Lucy again… Oh…

I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

Talk about an emotional roller-coaster.

Presently the door opened, and mother looked in; seeing by my moving that I was not asleep, came in, and sat by me. She said to me even more sweetly and softly than her wont:—

"I was uneasy about you, darling, and came in to see that you were all right."

I feared she might catch cold sitting there, and asked her to come in and sleep with me, so she came into bed, and lay down beside me;

SEE WHAT I MEANT LAST TIME. Yes Ms Westenra is dying but she still wants to watch over her little girl! Yes Lucy is a grown adult but she still needs her mum! It’s all about love

After a while there was the low howl again out in the shrubbery, and shortly after there was a crash at the window, and a lot of broken glass was hurled on the floor. The window blind blew back with the wind that rushed in, and in the aperture of the broken panes there was the head of a great, gaunt grey wolf. Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a sitting posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would help her. Amongst other things, she clutched the wreath of flowers that Dr. Van Helsing insisted on my wearing round my neck, and tore it away from me. For a second or two she sat up, pointing at the wolf, and there was a strange and horrible gurgling in her throat; then she fell over—as if struck with lightning, and her head hit my forehead and made me dizzy for a moment or two. The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seemed to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert.

OK OK not to (surprisingly) turn into your local Mrs Westenra Defender™ but. But. If this exact ordeal happened to you and you did not have the benefit of knowing the lore, would your natural conclusion not be that the flowers attracted the wolf? Because that sure as Hell would be mine.

I tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear mother's poor body, which seemed to grow cold already—for her dear heart had ceased to beat—weighed me down; and I remembered no more for a while.

WAIT SHE’S DEAD????? WHAT ARE WE BLAMING HER FOR EXACTLY????? SHE FUCKING DIED

The maids shrieked, and then went in a body to the dining-room; and I laid what flowers I had on my dear mother's breast. When they were there I remembered what Dr. Van Helsing had told me, but I didn't like to remove them, and, besides, I would have some of the servants to sit up with me now.

I WAS TOLD LUCY’S MUM THREW THE FLOWERS AWAY AND THAT DIRECTLY CAUSED HER DEATH. THAT COULD NOT BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH. WHAT HAPPENED

My heart sank when I saw what had happened. They all four lay helpless on the floor, breathing heavily. The decanter of sherry was on the table half full, but there was a queer, acrid smell about. I was suspicious, and examined the decanter. It smelt of laudanum, and looking on the sideboard, I found that the bottle which mother's doctor uses for her—oh! did use—was empty. What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.

WHO WHAT AND HOW

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

LUCY NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO —

Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra (Unopened by her.)

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

My dearest Lucy,—It seems an age since I heard from you, or indeed since I wrote. You will pardon me, I know, for all my faults when you have read all my budget of news.

Why don’t you twist the knife even deeper Bram.

Well, I got my husband back all right;

A little bit of light in this God-forsaken world

'My dears, I want to drink your health and prosperity; and may every blessing attend you both. I know you both from children, and have, with love and pride, seen you grow up. Now I want you to make your home here with me. I have left to me neither chick nor child; all are gone, and in my will I have left you everything.' I cried, Lucy dear, as Jonathan and the old man clasped hands. Our evening was a very, very happy one.

And twist the knife deeper he did.

So here we are, installed in this beautiful old house, and from both my bedroom and the drawing-room I can see the great elms of the cathedral close, with their great black stems standing out against the old yellow stone of the cathedral and I can hear the rooks overhead cawing and cawing and chattering and gossiping all day, after the manner of rooks—and humans.

Windows! Parallels and contrasts!! Something monstrous VS something divine and most of all human!!! I’m fine this is fine we’re all fine —

How is your dear mother getting on?

ALRIGHT BRAM THAT’S ENOUGH TWISTING.

and Jonathan wants looking after still.

🥺🥹 (<- Hanging on by a thread)

And now I have told you my news, let me ask yours. When are you to be married, and where, and who is to perform the ceremony, and what are you to wear, and is it to be a public or a private wedding? Tell me all about it, dear; tell me all about everything, for there is nothing which interests you which will not be dear to me. Jonathan asks me to send his 'respectful duty,' but I do not think that is good enough from the junior partner of the important firm Hawkins & Harker; and so, as you love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all the moods and tenses of the verb, I send you simply his 'love' instead. Good-bye, my dearest Lucy, and all blessings on you.

Yours,

MINA HARKER.

(Thread snapped)

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 12th

MY GOOD FRIEND JONATHAN IS ALIVE (and going through the supernatural equivalent of a police interrogation)

First, he asked if a man in England might have two solicitors or more. I told him he might have a dozen if he wished, but that it would not be wise to have more than one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as only one could act at a time, and that to change would be certain to militate against his interest.

Do not slutshame the Count… Do not slutshame the Count…

"But," said he, "I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not so?"

"Of course," I replied; and "such is often done by men of business, who do not like the whole of their affairs to be known by any one person."

"Good!"

Billionaires are vampires confirmed

"Have you written since your first letter to our friend Mr. Peter Hawkins, or to any other?" (Oh oh.) It was with some bitterness in my heart that I answered that I had not, that as yet I had not seen any opportunity of sending letters to anybody.

"Then write now, my young friend," he said, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder (Oh oh…): "write to our friend and to any other; and say, if it will please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from now." (OH OH.)

"Do you wish me to stay so long?" I asked, for my heart grew cold at the thought.

"I desire it much; nay, I will take no refusal. When your master, employer, what you will, engaged that someone should come on his behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be consulted. I have not stinted. Is it not so?"

MR PETER HAWKINS SIR DID YOU SELL YOUR INTERN TO THE COUNT

They were all of the thinnest foreign post, and looking at them, then at him, and noticing his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine teeth lying over the red underlip, I understood as well as if he had spoken that I should be careful what I wrote, for he would be able to read it. So I determined to write only formal notes now, but to write fully to Mr. Hawkins in secret, and also to Mina, for to her I could write in shorthand, which would puzzle the Count, if he did see it.

HELL YES YOU GUYS WERE RIGHT ABOUT THE SHORTHAND. LOVE SAVES THE DAY (maybe probably hopefully)

"Let me advise you, my dear young friend—nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But if you be not careful in this respect, then"—He finished his speech in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were washing them. I quite understood; my only doubt was as to whether any dream could be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of gloom and mystery which seemed closing around me.

Oh great! It gets worse!!!

I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed—I imagine that my rest is thus freer from dreams; and there it shall remain.

YOU FOOL KEEP IT AROUND YOUR NECK

I am beginning to feel this nocturnal existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings.

“I’m going to get a good grade in abusive behaviour, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve” — Count Dracula, circa 1897

I did not see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the movement of his back and arms. In any case I could not mistake the hands which I had had so many opportunities of studying.

His sharp canines and general assholery have bewitched my good friend Jonathan body and soul

But my very feelings changed to repulsion and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge from the window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over that dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like great wings.

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature is it in the semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place overpowering me; I am in fear—in awful fear—and there is no escape for me; I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of...

MINA HELP COME GET YOUR MAN

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 11th

Today we meet another good friend of ours: sweet Lucy! Let’s see if we can find out more about this mysterious handsome man who has been courting her…

Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you.

>:(

We met some time ago a man that would just do for you, if you were not already engaged to Jonathan. He is an excellent parti, being handsome, well off, and of good birth. He is a doctor and really clever. Just fancy!

Oooh, so Lucy is also trying to add to the polycule. Tell us more about this excellent parti, please!

He is only nine-and-twenty, and he has an immense lunatic asylum all under his own care.

ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION

I can fancy what a wonderful power he must have over his patients. He has a curious habit of looking one straight in the face, as if trying to read one's thoughts.

FLY YOU FOOL

Do you ever try to read your own face? I do, and I can tell you it is not a bad study, and gives you more trouble than you can well fancy if you have never tried it. He says that I afford him a curious psychological study, and I humbly think I do. I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.

OH NO I LOVE HER… 😭 (Task failed successfully)

Mina, we have told all our secrets to each other since we were children; we have slept together and eaten together, and laughed and cried together; and now, though I have spoken, I would like to speak more. Oh, Mina, couldn't you guess? I love him. I am blushing as I write, for although I think he loves me, he has not told me so in words. But oh, Mina, I love him; I love him; I love him! There, that does me good.

HERE’S THE TEA FINALLY 🫖☕️

I wish I were with you, dear, sitting by the fire undressing —

Well that escalated quickly.

— as we used to sit; and I would try to tell you what I feel. I do not know how I am writing this even to you. I am afraid to stop, or I should tear up the letter, and I don't want to stop, for I do so want to tell you all. Let me hear from you at once, and tell me all that you think about it. Mina, I must stop. Good-night. Bless me in your prayers; and, Mina, pray for my happiness.

Just gals being pals… nothing to see here…

P.S.—I need not tell you this is a secret. Good-night again.

SHE’S SO CUTE HELP

My good friend Jonathan hasn’t written in a while though… I hope he’s OK…

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 3rd

Van Helsing has come and gone.

THE END

OK no seriously.

When I told him of our friendship and how you trust to me in the matter, he said: 'You must tell him all you think. Tell him what I think, if you can guess it, if you will. Nay, I am not jesting. This is no jest, but life and death, perhaps more.'

It’s not his fault! Bedside manners hadn’t been invented yet!

This was when we had come back to town, and he was having a cup of tea before starting on his return to Amsterdam. He would not give me any further clue.

WHEN DID THIS TURN INTO A PROFESSOR LAYTON GAME SOON HE WILL TELL US WHITBY IS NOT REAL

He seemed not to notice, but remarked that the smuts —

The what

— the smuts in London were not quite so bad as they used to be when he was a student here.

Nevermind.

How can he'—and he pointed at me with the same look and gesture as that with which once he pointed me out to his class, on, or rather after, a particular occasion which he never fails to remind me of—'know anything of a young ladies? He has his madmen to play with, and to bring them back to happiness, and to those that love them. It is much to do, and, oh, but there are rewards, in that we can bestow such happiness. But the young ladies! He has no wife nor daughter, and the young do not tell themselves to the young, but to the old, like me, who have known so many sorrows and the causes of them. So, my dear, we will send him away to smoke the cigarette in the garden, whiles you and I have little talk all to ourselves.'

Did he just

Did he just call Seward bitchless

Is that what happened

I took the hint,

[Slow clap]

The disease—for not to be all well is a disease—interest me, and the sweet young dear, she interest me too. She charm me, and for her, if not for you or disease, I come.'

I think Van Helsing knows a little too much of a young ladies.

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

June 17th

We are BACK!!!!! We are so back!!! And our friend Jonathan hasn’t been turned into a raisin yet!!!

This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed cudgelling my brains —

What does that mean. What the FUCK does that mean.

[Confused French noises]

… Jonathan are you OK —

With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the yard two great leiter-wagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great nail-studded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots.

YAY!!!!! OTHER HUMAN BEINGS!!!!!

Again a shock: my door was fastened on the outside.

:(

Then I ran to the window and cried to them. They looked up at me stupidly and pointed, but just then the "hetman" of the Szgany came out, and seeing them pointing to my window, said something, at which they laughed. Henceforth no effort of mine, no piteous cry or agonised entreaty, would make them even look at me.

NO!!!!! OTHER HUMAN BEINGS!!!!!

Shortly afterwards, I heard the cracking of their whips die away in the distance.

🎶 Alone again (naturally) 🎶

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 13th

Happy Friday the 13th! Let’s find out what the horrors are today! 🎉

"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into her room. She was sleeping soundly—so soundly that even my coming did not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There were a lot of those horrible, strong-smelling flowers about everywhere, and she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I feared that the heavy odour would be too much for the dear child in her weak state, so I took them all away and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with her, I am sure."

IS SHE ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE ON FRIDAY 13TH IT WOULD BE TRAGIC BUT ALSO HILARIOUS

Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down. He raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair, and then beat his palms together in a helpless way; finally he sat down on a chair, and putting his hands before his face, began to sob, with loud, dry sobs that seemed to come from the very racking of his heart.

AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT ABRAHAM

Again the operation; again the narcotic; again some return of colour to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy sleep. This time I watched whilst Van Helsing recruited himself and rested.

Presently he took an opportunity of telling Mrs. Westenra that she must not remove anything from Lucy's room without consulting him; that the flowers were of medicinal value, and that the breathing of their odour was a part of the system of cure. Then he took over the care of the case himself, saying that he would watch this night and the next and would send me word when to come.

After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal.

What does it all mean? I am beginning to wonder if my long habit of life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own brain.

See that’s the thing: she’s bound to do it again. Seward himself, who has known and looked up to Van Helsing for years, is starting to question his own perception of reality. And I understand telling a deathly ill woman about vampires is not exactly a solution either but. Of course this dying mother who has already been failed and doomed by medicine is going to throw the flowers away once more. Of course she will be driven to do something she thinks is profoundly nice and caring one last time. It’s her little girl. She loves her. ARGH

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

August 12th

TREMENDOUS NEWS Mina survived her sleepover with a freshly bitten vampire (Vampire… larva? Vampire caterpillar?)!!! Also she got some mail:

I write by desire of Mr. Jonathan Harker, who is himself not strong enough to write, though progressing well, thanks to God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary. He has been under our care for nearly six weeks, suffering from a violent brain fever. He wishes me to convey his love, and to say that by this post I write for him to Mr. Peter Hawkins, Exeter, to say, with his dutiful respects, that he is sorry for his delay, and that all of his work is completed. He will require some few weeks' rest in our sanatorium in the hills, but will then return. He wishes me to say that he has not sufficient money with him, and that he would like to pay for his staying here, so that others who need shall not be wanting for help.

HAPPY JONATHAN IS ALIVE DAY 🎉🎉🎉🎉

P. S.—My patient being asleep, I open this to let you know something more. He has told me all about you, and that you are shortly to be his wife. All blessings to you both!

Aaaaaw 🥺

He has had some fearful shock—so says our doctor—and in his delirium his ravings have been dreadful; of wolves and poison and blood; of ghosts and demons; and I fear to say of what. Be careful with him always that there may be nothing to excite him of this kind for a long time to come; the traces of such an illness as his do not lightly die away. We should have written long ago, but we knew nothing of his friends, and there was on him nothing that any one could understand. He came in the train from Klausenburg, and the guard was told by the station-master there that he rushed into the station shouting for a ticket for home.

Aaaaaaaaaaw 🥺

Seeing from his violent demeanour that he was English —

HDKSKSKSKKSS

Be assured that he is well cared for. He has won all hearts by his sweetness and gentleness. He is truly getting on well, and I have no doubt will in a few weeks be all himself. But be careful of him for safety's sake. There are, I pray God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, many, many, happy years for you both.

People! Being!! Kind!!!

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 2nd

VAN HELSING HAS JOINED THE CHAT I REPEAT VAN HELSING HAS JOINED THE CHAT

But first some news from Doctor Medical Malpractice:

I found Miss Westenra in seemingly gay spirits. Her mother was present, and in a few seconds I made up my mind that she was trying all she knew to mislead her mother and prevent her from being anxious.

It runs in the family…

'I cannot tell you how I loathe talking about myself.' I reminded her that a doctor's confidence was sacred, but that you were grievously anxious about her. She caught on to my meaning at once, and settled that matter in a word. 'Tell Arthur everything you choose. I do not care for myself, but all for him!' So I am quite free.

I… guess.

I could easily see that she is somewhat bloodless

Always a good thing to be! 🎉

I could easily see that she is somewhat bloodless, but I could not see the usual anæmic signs, and by a chance I was actually able to test the quality of her blood, for in opening a window which was stiff a cord gave way, and she cut her hand slightly with broken glass. It was a slight matter in itself, but it gave me an evident chance, and I secured a few drops of the blood and have analysed them. The qualitative analysis gives a quite normal condition, and shows, I should infer, in itself a vigorous state of health. In other physical matters I was quite satisfied that there is no need for anxiety; but as there must be a cause somewhere, I have come to the conclusion that it must be something mental. She complains of difficulty in breathing satisfactorily at times, and of heavy, lethargic sleep, with dreams that frighten her, but regarding which she can remember nothing. She says that as a child she used to walk in her sleep, and that when in Whitby the habit came back, and that once she walked out in the night and went to East Cliff, where Miss Murray found her; but she assures me that of late the habit has not returned. I am in doubt, and so have done the best thing I know of; I have written to my old friend and master, Professor Van Helsing, of Amsterdam, who knows as much about obscure diseases as any one in the world.

DOCTOR MEDICAL MALPRACTICE SENIOR

He is a seemingly arbitrary man, but this is because he knows what he is talking about better than any one else.

IIIIII don’t know about that Jack.

Anyways onto the man the myth the legend:

When I have received your letter I am already coming to you. By good fortune I can leave just at once, without wrong to any of those who have trusted me. Were fortune other, then it were bad for those who have trusted, for I come to my friend when he call me to aid those he holds dear.

Why does this lowkey sound like Dracula’s welcome speech. I do not like this. I do not like this at all.

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 25th

Today, we’re meeting two new penpals! Starting with Dr. John “Jack” Seward, the epitome of joy:

Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.... (<- 4 dots. You know it’s serious.)

I like that he’s keeping his diary on a phonograph as if he were retelling medical observations. It’s a nice touch!

So how does this fine young man handle rejection, you ask?

As I knew that the only cure for this sort of thing was work, I went down amongst the patients. I picked out one who has afforded me a study of much interest. He is so quaint that I am determined to understand him as well as I can. To-day I seemed to get nearer than ever before to the heart of his mystery.

I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with a view to making myself master of the facts of his hallucination. In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell.

(Mem., under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell?) Omnia Romæ venalia sunt. Hell has its price! verb. sap. If there be anything behind this instinct it will be valuable to trace it afterwards accurately, so I had better commence to do so, therefore—

… Well at least he’s self-aware. So there’s that.

R. M. Renfield, ætat 59.—Sanguine temperament; great physical strength; morbidly excitable; periods of gloom, ending in some fixed idea which I cannot make out. I presume that the sanguine temperament itself and the disturbing influence end in a mentally-accomplished finish; a possibly dangerous man, probably dangerous if unselfish. In selfish men caution is as secure an armour for their foes as for themselves. What I think of on this point is, when self is the fixed point the centripetal force is balanced with the centrifugal; when duty, a cause, etc., is the fixed point, the latter force is paramount, and only accident or a series of accidents can balance it.

Why do I have a feeling this guy is going to be important. Noting it down.

Now onto our second penpal:

Letter, Quincey P. Morris to Hon. Arthur Holmwood.

[Slides in with a cowboy hat and a rose between my teeth] Hey ~ 🌹

My dear Art,—

We've told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies; and dressed one another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas; and drunk healths on the shore of Titicaca. There are more yarns to be told, and other wounds to be healed, and another health to be drunk. Won't you let this be at my camp-fire to-morrow night? I have no hesitation in asking you, as I know a certain lady is engaged to a certain dinner-party, and that you are free.

How does this book keep getting bi-er and poly-er. We must study it for science.

There will only be one other, our old pal at the Korea, Jack Seward. He's coming, too, and we both want to mingle our weeps over the wine-cup, and to drink a health with all our hearts to the happiest man in all the wide world, who has won the noblest heart that God has made and the best worth winning.

Case in point.

Yours, as ever and always,

QUINCEY P. MORRIS.

Man I wish that were me…

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 19th

Today, we get an introductory lesson in covering-your-tracks from our good friend the count:

I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked me in the suavest tones to write three letters, one saying that my work here was nearly done, and that I should start for home within a few days, another that I was starting on the next morning from the time of the letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived at Bistritz.

And some tips to survive a hostage situation from Jonathan:

He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; my only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape.

Followed by a not-ominous-at-all:

I therefore pretended to fall in with his views, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters. He calculated a minute, and then said:—

"The first should be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June 29."

I know now the span of my life. God help me!

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 16th

Thought things couldn’t get worse for our good friend Jonathan…? WELL YOU WERE WRONG:

God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past. Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to hope for, that I may not go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose. Great God! merciful God! Let me be calm, for out of that way lies madness indeed.

Is the Count running for N.1 Abusive Technically-Not-Boyfriend? Because he has a pretty strong shot.

Up to now I never quite knew what Shakespeare meant when he made Hamlet say:—

"My tablets! quick, my tablets!

'Tis meet that I put it down," etc.,

for now, feeling as though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of entering accurately must help to soothe me.

We’re his only comfort and we can do nothing to help… 😭

When I had written in my diary and had fortunately replaced the book and pen in my pocket I felt sleepy. The Count's warning came into my mind, but I took a pleasure in disobeying it.

The fact that this was an intentional infraction breaks my heart in the best way possible.

In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, for, though the moonlight was behind them, they threw no shadow on the floor.

More normal human things!!!

There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth.

Honey I think Mina will forgive you for [checks notes] being manipulated through vampire pheromones

There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on my throat.

SOMEONE DRAG HER AWAY FROM HIM

I was conscious of the presence of the Count, and of his being as if lapped in a storm of fury. As my eyes opened involuntarily I saw his strong hand grasp the slender neck of the fair woman and with giant's power draw it back, the blue eyes transformed with fury, the white teeth champing with rage, and the fair cheeks blazing red with passion. But the Count! Never did I imagine such wrath and fury, even to the demons of the pit. His eyes were positively blazing. The red light in them was lurid, as if the flames of hell-fire blazed behind them.

NO NOT YOU

"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him:—

"You yourself never loved; you never love!" On this the other women joined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through the room that it almost made me faint to hear; it seemed like the pleasure of fiends. Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper:—

"Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done."

Queer-coding? In my XIXth century monstrous villain? It’s more likely than you think!

"Are we to have nothing to-night?" said one of them, with a low laugh, as she pointed to the bag which he had thrown upon the floor, and which moved as though there were some living thing within it.

Oh oh.

Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious.

Jonathan would love 2024 Tumblr slang! He too was once overcome by The Horrors™!

I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count must have carried me here.

YIKES.

I am sure this diary would have been a mystery to him which he would not have brooked. He would have taken or destroyed it.

😭

As I look round this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were—who are—waiting to suck my blood.

Was this staged…? Was this entire assault staged as a fucked up manipulation tactic to get Jonathan to seek protection from the Count??? I need answers

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 12th

How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers. He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not dread being alone to-night, and I can go to sleep without fear. I shall not mind any flapping outside the window.

Oh babygirl… Oooh babygirl………

Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.

I don’t remember who said vampirism reminded them of a chronic illness but it’s really showing through Lucy. Jonathan had more of a metaphor-for-abusive-relationships vibe going on but I definitely see it now!

Well, here I am to-night, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the play, with "virgin crants and maiden strewments."

Hey can you and Van Helsing stop with the ominous references please and thank you

Good-night, everybody.

🥺🥺🥺🥺

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[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 8th

Today we pick up where we left off with our good friend Jonathan!!! I hope he’s having a wonderful day!!!

I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come.

:(

If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he! —

Every day this story reads more and more like a Beauty and the Beast retelling… 🦇🌹

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count's voice saying to me, "Good-morning."

JUMPSCARE

I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment.

Uh-oh.

When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat.

At least buy him dinner fi — oooooh so that’s what all this food was about… got it… carry on…

I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

"Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country."

THE CRUCIFIX WORKS MY FRIENDS

"And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity. Away with it!" and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave —

HOW IS THAT EVEN A TOPIC OF CONCERN RIGHT NOW JONATHAN

The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! […]

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit.

The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

A PRISONER WHO CAN’T EVEN SHAVE!!!!! (and shouldn’t)

Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count.

Smart.

[The Count] did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along thought—that there were no servants in the house. When later I saw him through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the dining-room, I was assured of it; for if he does himself all these menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else to do them.

It’s not his fault his love language is acts of service 🥺

This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here.

HOLY SHIT I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT

I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.

May I suggest you STOP WRITING YOUR GODDAMN JOURNAL AND BURN THE WHOLE THING THEN

In his speaking of things and people, and especially of battles, he spoke as if he had been present at them all.

HAHAHA… Haaa…

Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace;

You would think that, wouldn’t you.

(Mem., this diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for everything has to break off at cockcrow—or like the ghost of Hamlet's father.)

:))))))))))))

Guys… I don’t want to alarm anyone… but I think… I think the Count might be… you know…

… a werewolf…

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