The Dangerous Doors of Shannon Anderson

Chapter Three

Dr. Van Helsing finally lowered his crucifix. "My child, this is all strange, but I am in the habit of keeping an open mind. Come, tell me what you know that we might banish this enemy forever!"

"Well, what have you tried so far?" I needed to figure out where we stood in the story before I could offer any sage advice.

"It is all too horrible, too soon to recount, but I fear I must if I am to have hope of your aid," he said, slumping down into the desk chair I had pushed out of the way in my panic. "Poor Miss Lucy, dead and yet undead. Last night, accompanied by Lord Godalming, Mr. Quincy Morris, and Dr. John Seward, I ventured to the churchyard at Kingstead, the site of Miss Lucy's grave. Fearing as I did that she had been infected by that devil Dracula, I knew that we must open her coffin and sever the head from the body. Do you not quite agree that it was my duty, as a doctor of the metaphysical, to carry out this heavy task that our dear Miss Lucy might at last find peace?"

"Certainly," I said, leaning back against the desk.

"Certainly, indeed! With the consent of her fiancé, Lord Godalming, we enter the tomb, but Miss Lucy is not within! I fashion a putty from clay and the Host -"

"Ah yes, the Holy Play-Doh." That was another thing I remembered from the book. There was something delightfully sacrilegious about the idea of turning Holy Communion into a caulk for sealing mausoleums, and it was just as absurd to think about now as when I'd first heard it.

"My child?" Van Helsing's bushy eyebrows furrowed and touched.

"Never mind. Go on."

"Yes. I fashion a putty from clay and the Host, which I use to seal Miss Lucy's tomb so that she, an undead, would be unable to re-enter and that we, in our sacred duty, might set her free at last. In the end, it is her beloved Arthur who drive the stake through that poor woman's heart, sending her to eternal rest with God."

"I see."

"But our ordeal has only just begun! We must hunt the author of all this sorrow and stamp him out. I return to Amsterdam for the night to gather my resources; how fortunate that you, an expert on the nosferatu, should appear so mysteriously in my study."

"Yes, it's quite the coincidence."

Dr. Van Helsing folded his hands under his chin and for a moment the only sounds were the crackling logs in the fireplace and the patter of light rain against the windows. "We observe this Count Dracula shift shape," the professor said, "from man to dog to bat, and control the elements, forming a fog about his person that he might travel on the mist or moonlight rays. He shrink so small as to slip through hairbreadth space in doors, and see in the dark. Tell me, has this been your experience?"

"Yes. And I'll bet he can't come out in the sunlight either, otherwise his skin starts to burn up." Was that right, or was that only a modern vampire superstition I'd picked up from The Southern Vampire Mysteries? I had to be careful not to get confused or Dr. Van Helsing might decide that I was a vampire after all and start brandishing his crucifix again. "And he can't come into a house unless he's invited." I knew that was true.

"Precisely! Grace of Mr. Harker's inquiry, we know that fifty boxes of earth were transported from the Count's castle to his new lair in Carfax. It is my view that we must capture and kill the monster, or poison his earth so that he may no longer seek refuge in it. A branch of the wild rose will keep him in his coffin, a holy bullet can kill him true dead, as can the severing of the head, as you well know. We must be rid of this monster once and for all, and so I turn to you and your expertise and beg you tell me true, armed with this knowledge and the support of four brave men, will it work?"

"I have a very good feeling that it will." It felt a little weird to know how the story ended. It was like I was seeing his future.

Dr. Van Helsing sprung out of his chair, grabbed my face in his hands, and planted a kiss on my forehead.

"Do not move, Miss Shannon. I will fetch us some wine and we can continue to flesh out this grisly task. I would have your opinion on garlic when I return!"

He hurried out of the room, and knowing I probably wouldn't have a better chance to do it, I crept around to the other side of the desk where my purple door stood open, knelt down, and slipped back into my bedroom.

A/N: I based my Dr. Van Helsing directly off Bram Stoker's version, so if his speech/verb tenses seem grammatically incorrect or he seems a little off his rocker, please take it up with Mr. Stoker. How do you think Shannon is feeling after this weird encounter? Is this even real, or is she dreaming? Let me know your theories in the comments, and please vote if you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks!