Dracula: Jonathan's Story

Agatha's Journals

Jonathan stretched his limbs. He could see a weakening sun through the bars on the ground level window grate but that was no way to gauge the time. "Shouldn't be awake," he muttered. Every time he saw the Count it was evening, late night even. Darkness shouldn't be far off.

He stood and examined his surroundings. He moved easier than he did the previous night; the result of feeding. He gave silent thanks to Ilya's sacrifice, as he moved around the room straightening the chair and organizing the papers. The book shelves carved into the walls he saved for last. A well-worn bible lay on the floor, its place marked by a bookmark shaped as a cross. He picked it up, closing his hands around it expecting it to burn his palm. When it didn't he placed it back in the book and left it on the desk.

Agatha's journals dominated the reading material, organized by date. He found the current pushed off to one side of the desk ready for use, pen beside it, the page marked. He flipped it open to the final entries

"While it is odd that JH does not know his beloved, it can also be expected due to the trauma he has suffered. He should by all accounts of his injuries be dead either from the neck break by Dracula, or the fall from the tower, or even the drowning. That he isn't demonstrates a singular, stubborn spirit determined to live in spite of the body's limitations...." It was dated the few days before when he first arrived at the convent.

He turned the page. "The young woman is in shock. On the voyage over, I have told her often of what Dracula is, and she listens as if taking it in. It is one thing to hear of a matter, another to see it. That's why I insisted on her presence in the room with me as I questioned JH. She embraced him with tears of joy, and happiness intent on the desire of true love conquering everything.

I expect he felt some mixture surprise, relief, horror at what he'd become.  Worry over the jeopardy to his beloved caused by his presence.  I hope there was some love, and acceptance. For surely he loves her enough to live." He did. She was his northern star. His conscience. "I will find you again," he muttered.

He turned the page forcing himself to read the final entry. "The girl and I retreated in here, I at my desk with her at my feet. She relaxed at some point during the night enough to fall asleep. I remained awake, listening to every dying scream; my penance for not doing enough..."

There was a sentence fragment below that. "He let her go. I however will remain subject to his will; a sacrifice I willingly make."

Jonathan flipped through the rest of the book making sure there were no other random entries. Satisfied he put it back. He would pack the rest up for shipping when he left Hungary. He turned his attention to his clothing; the night shirt he wore was stained, and beginning to smell. He would have to pick up his belongings at the castle.

                                                                       ***

"Hello," Alexei's voice echoed through the Abbey. He pushed the door open waiting for instructions. "I've brought you this," he placed the uniform on the bed. Jonathan looked him, a wordless request for privacy. Some things he hadn't yet let go of.

Alexei retreated to the doorway. "You could stay with my wife and I. We have a room in the basement with a narrow window. The convent will be closed, and abandoned. No sisters remain. Agatha disappeared the same time the count did."

It was as good an offer as anything. "I won't stay long. Two weeks at the most, and then travel by evening stage overland through Europe," Jonathan hoped he could learn to control the hunger by then and learn more of his powers. Alexei nodded.