Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long to update. I have been busy with "Man of La Mancha" performances and next week is finals week, so I've had little time to write. Not to mention being sick most of the last 2 weeks. Also this story is not based on one version of "Phantom of The Opera" or "Dracula." Probobly closest to both original books and the ALW film of POTO. So if you have a pretty general knowlege of both stories, you can understand this story.

I heard only this morning the sad events of last night. Renfield seemed a kind-hearted, intelligent man, when he was not completely insane. Of course this observance was only from my brief meetings that Dr. Seward oversaw. He would be discussing some aspects of science or philosophy with a very dignified air, so that one might easily forget that they were addressing a lunatic. Then the next day he would be huddled in a corner, eating flies, and screaming about lives. I do wonder if Dracula was the cause of Renfield's insanity. Perhaps Renfield was completely sane all the time, except when prompted by Dracula.

The men are all out again, investigating our mystery, except of course Dr. Seward. So with his permission I am following him on his daily business around the asylum. Throughout the day there had been little I have not already seen around the asylum. We did pass Renfield's cell where some attendants were attempting to scrub the blood stains from the previous night off of the floor, it was a grotesque sight.

One of Dr. Seward's last stops of the day was to see one patients, a girl, who had arrived just yesterday who was particularly interesting to me. Before we went to her we had to get an attendant, to accompany us for reasons of safety.

As we stood outside her cell Seward cautioned me, "You may watch me but you may not come inside."

I looked at the woman who sat in the room, innocent and child like. "She appears harmless." I protested.

"Looks can be deceiving Mina, she nearly throttled me to death yesterday."

I could not help but smirk at the idea of such a tiny woman attacking him.

"She appears harmless. That was why she was able to knock me down. I was caught completely off guard." He said, understandably defensive.

As Dr. Seward entered the room the woman sat up. Immediately I saw something in her face that was odd, she looked upset but she did not have that same look that most patients here had. Her eyes were fixed and not franticly wandering about in her head. Something else struck me as odd, she was so young. Rarely had I ever seen a lunatic so young. She could not have been more than 17.

"Where I am I?" She asked before Seward had the chance to speak. As she spoke it was obvious she was a foreigner. Her accent was not strong, but it was unmistakably French. Actually it was a nice sound, not an annoying misuse of the English language. She spoke English rather well, but she would probably always sound French.

"Calm down." Dr. Seward replied, probably more to himself than to her.

"I am calm Monsieur." She said truthfully. "Who are you?"

"I am Dr. Seward, and I am-"

"This is an asylum, isn't it?" she interrupted. "For the insane?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Just as I thought." She said quickly as she stood and began pacing the small room. "I afraid there has been a terrible mistake."

"What is that?"

"I am not insane." She answered plainly. Though I had heard many lunatics say this, I believed her against my better judgment. She just seemed so sincere about it. Perhaps it was that she reminded me so much of myself. Though I am probably 3 years her senior, her features are very similar to mine, dark curly hair, mid-stature, thin build, round face, and big eyes though hers were brown and mine are green. Were her clothes not as dilapidated as they were, with her hair up, from a distance I would venture to guess that she might easily be mistaken for myself.

When I was younger I used to take great pride in my hair, Jonathan always admired it, but I find myself lately, especially since my marriage to Jonathan, keeping it close to my scalp. I want to be taken seriously, and I find that if I keep my hair as out of sight as possible, men will not be constantly reminded of my gender. I am a married woman now, and thus do not need to show off silly things like my hair.

"Oh. Is that so?" Said Dr. Seward a little disingenuously.

"Monsieur, do not patronize me." she said seeing right through Dr. Seward's false seriousness. "If you could only call for my husband, he could resolve this entire situation."

"And who, may I ask, is he?"

She stopped a moment before answering. "That is difficult. If I could only tell where to find him."

"It would be nearly impossible for me to find someone if I do not even know his name."

"I am sorry, but I can not tell you." She answered.

"Why is that?" Seward prodded.

"Because he wishes to remain anonymous."

"Why? Are you fugitives?" He ventured to guess.

"No." She answered offended.

"Then why can you not tell me?"

"It is complicated!" She said, sounding as if on the verge of breaking. She took a few moments to regain control of her emotions then added "If anyone were to find out who my husband is, we may have to return to Paris."

"What is so dreadful about Paris?" Seward ventured.

"Our past and I do not know what awaits us there."

"Please, tell us." I interjected from behind the bars. "We will not tell a soul. We only wish to help you." Seward and the woman both looked at me. Seward with a sort of embarrassed look, but I paid him no attention. The woman looked directly at me, as if she had not noticed me standing there this whole time. Her big brown eyes piercing, as if she could see right through me. It was not a malicious look, but a sad one. Finally after a time she nodded at me with a small warm smile, that seemed to say 'thank you' then looked back to Seward.

"Doctor," she said. "Do you swear not to tell anyone?"

"I swear." The doctor promised.

There was a pause and then the woman answered. "Raoul De Changy."

"The Vicomte?"

"Yes. You know of him?" She asked surprised.

"I have heard of him yes." Seward stood and proceeded out the cell door.

"Thank you so much Monsieur!" She said as Seward closed the door behind him.

"Don't worry. We will have this whole thing settled." I said to her as we walked away. We had made it halfway down the hall before it dawned on me to ask her something. I ran back to her and asked.

"What is your name?"

"Christine." She answered with a smile. "And yours mademoiselle?"

"Mina." I smiled back at her. "Mina Harker."

I rushed back to doctor Seward. "We should hurry, before the men return."

He just stared at me a second and then replied "You believed her?" He shook his head and laughed "Mina you of all people."

"What? Why? She seemed like she was telling the truth." I retorted.

"That is because she is a lunatic." He said simply, "She probably believes it to be true."

I found myself becoming defensive of the poor creature, throwing my sensibility to the wind. "What makes you think it is not the truth?"

"Because Mina," he said plainly "According to the newspapers, there is something that she would surely know about the viscount, were she actually married to him."

"What is that?" I asked.

Doctor Seward answered me with frankness "That Raoul De Changy is dead!"