Disclaimer: I do NOT own Dracula or any of the other characters save for Teresa. This story is based on Bram Stoker's novel, with some scenes from the 1931 and 1992 movies and some scenes I just came up with on my own.
DRACULA (from a different point of view)
CHAPTER 2
An hour later, the coach stopped and I peered out the window. It was nighttime and though it was dark I could make out the outlines of the trees. I felt the cushion sink a bit and knew that Jonathan was craning forward to see outside as well. Silence, save for the soft thud of horses' hooves. Footsteps descended from in front of the carriage and came to the door. The coachman's face was illuminated by a lantern, and though his face remained expressionless, I could sense (and I'm sure Jonathan could, too) relief in his voice. "There is no carriage here," the coachman said to Jonathan as if I was not present. "You and the Fraulein are not expected at all. You and she will now come on to Bukovina and return tomorrow or the next day; better the next day. "
The man had barely finished speaking when the horses began to neigh suddenly. Immediately, the driver ran forward to calm them down, but they continued to neigh and once or twice plunged forward a step or two. The sudden jolt sent me flying off the seat and across to the other side of the carriage. While the coachman continued to pacify the horses, Jonathan reached across to the other side of the carriage and helped me up. "Are you all right, Teresa?"
Before I could answer, a sound that sounded like rumbling thunder came upon our ears. As it got closer, we could hear the pounding of horses' hooves, and a moment later, a caleche drove right past our window and stopped. By the light of the coach lamps, the horses were revealed to be black, enormous, and well built. I had never seen such extraordinary-looking animals. And then, my eyes fell upon the driver, who was sitting in the top seat behind the horses.
He appeared (to my eyes, at least) to be a very tall man. A long brown beard and a great black hat hid most of his face so that I was unable to see what he looked like. The man turned his face towards the carriage and stared at us with a pair of eyes that glowed red in the lamplight. Something about those eyes seemed to frighten me and I felt cold all of a sudden, as if chills were slapping me across the face.
The man turned to our coachman and said, "I see that you are early tonight. "
Utter terror was present in the coachman's voice as he said, "The English Herr and Fraulein were in a terrible hurry." The dark man laughed- a low laugh. "That explains why you insisted that they travel on to Bukovina. Don't try to deceive me, for I know too much."
Our driver did not reply; he just stood beside our carriage door, as still as a corpse. Though his back was to us, both Jonathan and I seemed to know that he was paralyzed with fright. "Hand me their luggage," said the stranger and, it seemed, with alarming speed our luggage was handed out through the window and placed within the caleche.
