Title comes from Jonathan's vow on October 3: "To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone."
Jonathan Harker's Journal
3 October. — I write this from the chair beside the bed where Mina sleeps. I am glad to see her sleeping so soundly, and apparently undisturbed by dreams, but I cannot claim the same respite. I am tortured by memories of this morning, and hounded by a confession that I may make nowhere but in the pages of this journal. But make it I must, for should the worst come to pass, the others will require answers, my darling Mina most of all. If you should read this, my love, forgive me!
After I saw that Mr. Morris was keeping watch outside our door, I tried to sleep alongside Mina once more, but found I could not. My mind would not quiet, and one question echoed within it. I knew I had no hope of sleep until I had found an answer, so I crept from the bed and to the door. There was one person who might have the information I sought, and so I knew it was to the Professor that I must go.
Mr. Morris was outside the door as before, and he looked up at me with a question in his eyes as I slipped out. "I must speak with Professor Van Helsing," I told him, and I saw the pity in his eyes as he nodded. He must have thought that I went to beg Van Helsing for some way to save Mina. If I thought there was anything I could do, I would, but Van Helsing had made it very clear before: the only way we could save Mina was to kill the fiend, and we had tried, but oh! He escaped us this time, and I fear he will again. Mina begged for us to be pitiful to him, but in my heart of hearts, I am not sure I can do it, for I do not think there is a single thing I desire more in this world than for him to be gone and all of us to be safe.
Van Helsing was still awake in his room, as I had hoped, and he answered the door quickly when I knocked on it. "Friend Jonathan!" he exclaimed at the sight of me. "Is something amiss with Madam Mina?"
"No more than was before," I replied. My mind was once again assailed by images of her this morning, stained in blood, but I shook them off. "Professor, I have questions I must have answered."
Van Helsing looked very grave, but he stepped aside to let me enter his room. "Of course. I will hear your questions, and I will answer as simply as I may."
Van Helsing sat on the edge of the bed, clearly leaving the chair to me, but as soon as I sat in it, I knew I could not stay still and stood once more. "I must ask- I must know-" My voice was very weak, and I channelled whatever strength I could into it. "What is happening now to Mina, what the Count did to Lucy… Is that the fate of all those who are bitten by one of the Un-Dead?"
"No," Van Helsing replied, shaking his head, "there is a process by which one of the Un-Dead turns a human into another of their damned kind. It is not so simple as a mere bite. No, for the transformation to occur, the blood must pass from one to the other on both sides. That is why the Count make dear Madam Mina drink from the wound in his breast, and why the Sacred Wafer burn her skin. It is that tainted blood that begin the transformation from human into one of the Un-Dead."
That was as I expected, so I nodded. I began pacing before the bed, my limbs so full of anxiety that they could not help but move. "And what are the symptoms, Professor? Of the change?"
Van Helsing looked even graver than before, and I could tell he did not like to answer, but he did. "Slowly, they become one of the Un-Dead themselves. Holy things burn their skin, as we saw with Madam Mina. Their teeth grow long and sharp. They sleep in the day and are awake in the night, and they do not eat like we do, for they desire only blood. They care no more for the things they love, and they care only for death and the commands of their maker. Oh, Friend Jonathan, I fear I tell too much; your face goes so white!"
I am sure my face was white, for I felt as though every strength had drained from me. I sank into the chair and covered my face with my hands for a quiet moment, calling on whatever courage I may still possess. I fear there is but little; I am not so brave as Van Helsing, or Mr. Morris, or Dr. Seward, or Lord Godalming. I am not even so brave as my dear Mina, who remains so strong despite all that has been done to her. No, I am not her equal! But I must try to become so, for her sake if not for my own.
When I uncovered my face, Van Helsing stood before me with a glass of brandy and a look of sympathy that cracked me in two. "You must not despair," he told me firmly as I accepted the glass with trembling hands. "We will save Madam Mina, and she will not have to suffer as dear Miss Lucy did. She will be saved. You must believe she will be saved. For her sake, you must."
I told Van Helsing that I knew, that I believed. I sipped from the brandy, but I felt its warmth only distantly. There was a fog upon me, a fog that has been there perhaps ever since the castle, so many months ago. It lifts and falls, but it is never gone, not truly. I worry it may never be.
"You must sleep, dear child," Van Helsing told me when the glass was empty. "You do none of us a favor by exhausting yourself so, yourself least of all! Sleep, and perhaps things look better in the morning."
I do not think anything will look better in the morning, but I took my leave of Van Helsing and returned to the room. Mr. Morris was still outside, and he clapped my shoulder tightly and bumped his arm against mine in his American way. Would that it were enough to comfort me! But I fear I am beyond comfort now, and the only thing that would ease my mind were if all of this had never occurred at all.
Mina has made some noise in her sleep; I fear my distress is affecting her somehow. I must calm myself. I must be calm, and I must finish my confession. I do not know if I can be calm while I write this, but for Mina, I shall try.
There is a reason I asked those questions of Van Helsing, a reason beyond my fear for Mina. There is something that no one here knows, for I never wrote it in my journal; at the time, I did not think it important, and after, I forgot it ever occurred until the scene this morning stirred my recollection. I must write it somewhere, but I will not, I think, share this entry with the others, not unless the time comes when I must. I will not even share it with Mina, though I must harden my heart to do so; how I hate to keep anything from her! But it will worry her only, and perhaps unduly, for I do not even know for certain that what I remember is real, or any concern at all. Yet, I fear, I fear!
I must be calm. I must write the words that now frighten me so. To business, now, and the Lord preserve me!
There were times, when I was in Dracula's castle, when I woke feeling more tired than I had before I fell asleep. At first, I thought they were a consequence of my strange schedule there, for the Count would keep me up talking all night and only release me shortly before sunrise, and my sleep would be troubled at those times by the strangeness of that timetable. I know now why the Count would only speak such at night, but oh! Peace! To business, now, and business only.
When I began to become aware that something was terribly wrong in the castle, once I knew that I was a prisoner and that the beings which held me were not so human as they appeared at first glance, I thought my tiredness came from fear, or because my mind would not let me truly rest in a place with such awful danger. I was not eating so much then, for all my food came from the Count himself, and even when I could bear to eat what his hands had made, he had been lessening it slowly. My appetite still has not recovered from the ordeal, not fully. And now I fear- No! To business! There is more I must write, though I would give anything to never have to think on these things ever again!
As I said, there were times when I woke feeling heavy from exhaustion, and though I did not know it at the time, I now am certain it was because the Count or his awful companions were feeding on my blood as I slept. I do not know how many nights this continued; I have faint memories of a few strange nightmares, but all my memories of the castle are clouded, and I did not know even then the full account of it. I fear it was very often, though I have no scars upon my body to mark where their teeth broke my skin. They hid their tracks well, very well!
But there was one night- And oh! I shudder to think of it now, with what I have just learned! But I will write it down, for I must: There was one night when I woke with the taste of blood in my mouth, and with blood upon my teeth and lips. I did not think too deeply on it, for I was ignorant and a fool! But I rinsed and cleaned my mouth, and I found that my lower lip had split, as though it had been struck. That must have been the source of the blood, I told myself, and I must have bitten my lip in the night, or else it must have become dry and cracked. Even then, I do not think the explanation fully satisfied me, but I did not think on it too deeply, for fear it would drive me mad. I still do not wish to think on it deeply, and I still fear what it will do, but now I must, for if what Van Helsing said is true, then I fear, I fear-!
I fear I have disturbed Mina once again, and I find there are tears falling from my eyes; I must control myself. I must think of this as a scientist would, like Van Helsing or Dr. Seward. One becomes one of the Un-Dead when there is an exchange of blood; the vampire drinks from the human, and the human drinks from the vampire. This begins the unholy transformation. The symptoms are thus: an inability to hold that which is sacred, a lengthening and sharpening of the teeth, a shift towards a nocturnal schedule, a lack of appetite for human food, and an apathy towards anything but the one who made them.
And now, for myself: I know the vampires drank from me, and I fear I may have drunk from them. I do not know that I have touched anything sacred with my bare hands since that night; there were crucifixes at the hospital in Buda-Pesth, but I did not touch them, and since coming here, I have often touched the Sacred Wafer to sterilize the Count's earth-boxes, but I have never touched it with my bare hands; it has been in its little envelope, or I have touched it with gloves. There is the little silver crucifix which Van Helsing gave to me, but has it ever touched my skin? I cannot remember, and I fear to try now.
For the other symptoms: I have run my tongue along my teeth many times as I have sat here writing, and I cannot tell if they are longer and sharper than they were before. They are somewhat sharp, I feel, but they do not feel sharper than they have recently. Then again, it has been months since that night in the castle; if they are longer and sharper now, they would have become so long ago. My schedule has shifted many times out of various necessities, and I cannot say how I would sleep if I listened only to the needs of my body. I can say that I do not feel tired now while I did earlier today, but with the events of this morning, I cannot say with any certainty that it is a symptom as Van Helsing listed it. Of late, I have mostly been awake until I could be no more, and then I have fallen into sleep no matter the time; it is not a nocturnal schedule, but it is not much of a schedule at all. My appetite never fully recovered from the castle, and of late it has been even worse, but my stomach is constantly churning from fear, so I cannot be certain of the cause.
Oh! There are too many uncertainties for my liking, too many symptoms I cannot be sure of. At least there is one thing that I know: I do not feel the apathy that Van Helsing mentioned, not at all. I am not sure that my emotions have ever been higher than they have been of late. And I care for the things I love, I care for Mina so deeply it is almost painful! Should that ever fade, I will know there is something to fear. I can only hope that, if such a thing should ever come to pass, I will have enough of my own mind left to know to fear it.
Mina is shifting in her sleep again; I fear she may be troubled by some dreams. I will join her in the bed, and perhaps she will find some comfort in my embrace. I may be tainted by unholy blood, but so is she. No matter what may come, neither of us will face it alone.
May God keep us, and if He does not, then we shall keep ourselves.
