Dracula: New blood

Chapter two. Alive but not living.

My head is heavy and seems unsteady on my shoulders until the cold stone feels under it. I'm down. Kim's lips articulate words of concern, her brow marked by furrowed worry. Her fingers extend, assessing my pulse, and her gaze probes deeply into my eyes, an expression of authority coloring her features as she issues clear commands to the man at her side. My ability to hear is completely impaired by a continuous buzzing in both ears. Shifting my gaze upward, I direct my attention to the ceiling, seeking respite from the distress induced by her ministrations. A sense of nausea, a growing unease, clings to me, and as I continue to fixate on the ceiling above I think her actions are making me sick. Sicker. The ceiling looks familiar. I'm still in the tunnel.

"In the castle," the masculine voice corrects me, and I don't look for the owner anymore. It's the voice in my head as everything else is muffled.

"You're sick, very sick, and I'm weak," the voice continues.

I want to laugh. No kidding, no medical degree is needed for this!

"You really need to fight this. It's going to be now or never!" The voice says with some pressure. I want to say that my failure is not due to a lack of trying.

Kim's face shows up again in my visual field. She shows me two fingers. Hmm, considering the situation, one finger would be sufficient. Something terribly wrong is happening to me and this is different than mom's...

I feel the ground vibrating. Strange feeling considering the tunnel was dug up in stone.

"Who cares what you feel? Make an effort, kid!" The voice pressures me again and the people's voices are now getting clearer.

Amidst the haze that clings to my thoughts, I catch fragments of Kim's conversation with my father, carried on a voice thick with urgency. She delivers her medical opinion on my condition with determination, and a single statement stands out, distinctly alien to my comprehension.

"We should certainly entertain the notion of poisoning..."

The remainder of her words dissolves into the enigmatic fog that shrouds my mind.

"Kid," a resolute voice within me almost shouts, reverberating through the corridors of my consciousness. "You show no inclination to grasp the unfolding events! A concerted endeavor is imperative to fathom the current state. I find myself too feeble to gather the requisite information within your frail vessel. Summon forth an exertion, I implore!"

Where is this kind of talk coming from? The eighteenth century?!

As some sort of invisible force takes over my senses, I notice the vibrations of the floor getting stronger and now I can say with confidence there are two people running towards me. Two men. A heightened olfactory perception endows me with newfound acuity, enabling me to pass by Kim and journey towards the elevator. In spirit only, oddly! The scent of the approaching figures is distinct. One emanates from our driver, the other from the youthful guide. Even the distant, muffled chime of a phone within a pocket resonates through my heightened senses. I'm aware that a conference call is ongoing between one of them, the driver, and my father, facilitated by Kim.

"I see them, Sir," he notifies my father the moment I'm in his visual range.

It's strange how all my senses are enhanced but my mouth is not saying a word and my limbs are not moving.

"We need to focus all your energy on the essential ...processes," the voice continues. "You have no need to talk or move. Focus on what is different with you so we isolate the disease."

"WE...?"

"Did you say something, Lina?" Kim squeezes my hand gently. "Tell me anything, my dear. Move a finger. Anything!"