Miss Harker's Journal—22 May, midnight. This house has become a lonely house, as of late. What with Uncle Arthur's passing and Lucy's condition! I stayed up, keeping watch over my beloved Lucy. Quincey peeked in through the doorway and said to me, "Will you be all right keeping watch over Lucy for the night? Or would you rather I stay with her? I can stay up with her, if you wish."

I could see that my brother is overly concerned for Lucy. I can see why! After all, they will be married soon—though when, nobody knows, as yet.

I turned to him and said, "Go, Quince! You may take your rest. Lucy is in good hands. She is safe with me. You may watch over her some other time. You are not fit, at the moment, as you have had but little sleep. You would be a better watchman when you are rested."

Presently, he entered the room, embraced me, and said in my ear, "Thank Heaven for you, darling sister."

Then, he walked over to Lucy's bedside and kissed her forehead, and after that, her lips. After having bid me good night, he left the room.

I kept watch over Lucy, as I sat in an easy chair opposite her bed. I pushed the chair closer to her bedside that I might be of assistance should the need arise. I sat in the chair, reading by the lamplight, when I heard a voice calling me! It was clear! It still rings in my ear as it did hours before!

"Elisabeta," it said, "Sleep, Elisabeta... Sleep..."

Mist filled the room, and I felt as though I were spinning! Lord! Everything went strangely dark! I collapsed as the darkness enfolded Lucy and I! Terror struck my heart! I was sure that I must have been asleep for a couple hours, when I heard the voice, yet again! It said, "Elisabeta... Rise! Elisabeta... Come to me. Behold! Your Husband and Master! I am He whom the Scholomance has resurrected. I am He that controls the weather... I am He that controls the beasts of the earth... I am the monster that living men would kill... I am He that loves you! I have crossed oceans of time...come to me..."

It must've been a dream! But try as I might, I could not wake myself from sleep! All at once, I felt myself rising to my feet, as though some unknown force were compelling me! Though where I was going, I knew not...

Half asleep, half awake, I wandered the halls of the Holmwood estate. I was being led somewhere, someplace...by this...this...this voice!

It seemed so familiar yet so strange to me! He spoke in some foreign language, but I understood him as though he were speaking English!

It was as if I knew his voice!

I ventured into the garden, and through the labyrinth, until I came upon a bench. I recall a wolf, howling, calling.

I was aware of some unknown yet familiar presence! I cold chill ran down my spine, and my heart was filled with dark horrors! Then, I saw...Him! Oh, the red eyes! The deathly pallor of his skin! The red lips!

He kissed my lips, and brought his own lips down to my neck! I could feel his lips... Oh, God! I could taste the blood from his mouth when he kissed me! I could feel his serpentine tongue churning, tasting my neck! I can still feel his sharp, canine teeth, tearing into the flesh of my neck! He...He drank my...blood...

Whether it was a dream or no, I could not recall. What I know is that I awoke on the marble bench in the garden, wearing only my corset! Where on earth was my nightgown? Had I walked about in my undergarments? Good God!

I awoke to find Quincey, Charles, Arthur, Father, and Uncle John, all gathered round... They were all holding up their crucifixes in their right hands, and their pistols on their left...

Presently, Charles came up to me and embraced me, ever so tightly, while Father and Arthur barked orders for the servants to search the rest of the grounds. Quincey left the group and joined the search. Although what they were searching for, I know not.

Charles whispered in my ear, and said, "Love, I was so anxious about you. Never wander off like that again. You scared me half to death."

I promised him that I will do no such thing again, and he kissed me. He was hurt when he saw me recoil. Oh! If he only knew of my dream...

Father and Arthur joined the search, leaving Charles and I to ourselves.

"Come," said he, taking my arm, gently, "Shall we go inside? It is not good for a young lady like you to be wandering about in the cold."

I took his arm and thanked him. What a gentleman he is! Thank God for men like Charles Seward!

He accompanied me back to the house, and sat with me in the parlour, while he requested for some tea.

What a comfort it is to be with Charles!

He comforted me to the best of his ability, and uttered soothing words to pacify my shaken nerves...

That is the reason why I love Charles Seward... But that voice... That voice... It sounds familiar...

___

Quincey Harker's Journal.

22 May, early morning.—No rest has come to me, yet again. For when I had been asleep for nearly three hours, I felt as though someone had roused me, though no one had. It must have been intuition, for I felt in my heart that something had gone wrong. I rushed to Father's room, then to Uncle John's. They both said they were sure of a strange presence—as I was. We looked for Arthur and Charles, and we searched the grounds, looking for Betsy.

We scattered, searched the whole estate, until we came upon the labyrinthine hedges. We snaked our way through the maze, lost our way, until finally, we found poor Elizabeth, lying unconscious, in the arms of a demon from the pit! He raised his head when we came upon him, blood dripping from his mouth!

I knew by Father's description in the journal—the eyes, the red lips, the pale skin—I knew it was the Count! By God, I saw the scar which Father spoke of!

I could not believe my own eyes! None of us could!

I heard Father whisper, hoarsely, "In manus tuas, Domine!"

Uncle John crossed himself, and said, "The Count! But how?"

I was the only one among the group who had the presence of mind to raise my crucifix and train my pistol at him. The other's followed suit, but the devil of Hell vanished quickly into the darkness!

I heard Arthur and Father bark orders for a search of the whole estate. Charles Seward came forth and embraced Betsy, offering her words of comfort.

Presently, Uncle John and I came away to join the search, as did Father and Arthur.

By God, if the Count has returned, and Quincey Morris is on the loose, then we have more trouble than we had feared! What with Lucy and Elizabeth being bitten!

Good God! Lord, watch over our souls!

We must not trouble ourselves with this matter, at present. Today is the day Uncle Arthur has chosen for his will to be read. Father has the honour to do so, as Uncle Arthur has made him his personal lawyer.

We must wait until the reading of the will. That is why I write this in my journal. I must do something or I shall go mad! Charles has challenged me to a shooting match, but I am not up for it, as I am still weak from last night's exertions. And I am anxious for both Lucy and Elizabeth.

___

Jonathan Harker's Journal.

22 May, Two o'clock.—After a bit of lunch, we proceeded to Arthur's study, where I was to read his will. The young Holmwood is to inherit his father's title of Lord Godalming. Also, he shall be entrusted the whole Godalming Estate, while Mary and Lucy shall each inherit the Westenra estate, and another located in Whitby.

Young Arthur shall receive £10,000,000 in notes and gold, while Mary, Lucy, Elizabeth, and Wilhelmina shall receive £50,000 each. Godalming has expressed in his will that Wilhelmina and Elizabeth are as daughters to him.

Charles and my son Quincey shall receive the same amount that Arthur has promised to his daughters and mine.

After the reading of the will, I dismissed all but Dr. Seward. I wished to speak with him in private.

There was a part of Godalming's will that I did not read out loud. It was addressed to me, personally.

In it, Arthur had told me to open his safe and pull out an old, worn-out letter. Seward and I are to read it.

I took out an old, yellowish piece of note-paper from Arthur's safe, read it, and looked it over, one more time, with Seward.

The paper had faded, as had the writing on it. It had three distinguishable tears in three areas of the paper. It had been folded, and appeared to have been pierced through with a knife. It was soiled and blood-encrusted.

My God! It was a memorandum from Morris! He must've written it before that fateful battle and concealed it in his shirt, knowing that the end was near. It was to serve as a warning to us. My God! Can this be? Can it be true? He knew of his own possible return and had tried to warn us!

___

Memorandum, Quincey P. Morris, to Van Helsing .

My friends:

I beg your forgiveness. We endeavour to save a soul, while my very own is lost. I am more lost than dear Mrs. Harker.

I have succumbed. Forgive me, Professor. I did not know better. Forgive me, Arthur. Forgive me, Jack.

It was the night we came to investigate Lucy's crypt—after we saw her in her demonic form. That night, she came to me in a dream.

Instinctively, I reached for my pistol and trained it at her—at It! Try as I might, I could not bring myself to fire at her! She advanced, and I dropped my pistol, and it clattered to the floor. She let out a laugh!

It said to me, "Make love to me, Quincey. You know you desire me. I know you desire me. Come to me, Quincey. I do not love Arthur. It is you whom I love. Forget Arthur. What matters is you and I, here, together."

She ran her hands up and down her body as she moaned! God! I was frozen! I was being hypnotized!

She closed the distance between us, and climbed into bed. She straddled my hips and began toying with the buttons of my nightshirt!

She said, once again, "Make love to me."

I swear to Heaven, I loathed her! But I could not resist! Forgive me... She undressed herself, and started unbuttoning my nightshirt! God, save me! I helped her undress me! Oh, God!

I made love to Lucy! While in the throes of our love-making, she sank her teeth into the flesh of my neck and drank my blood! God, it is all still clear to me!

She wounded her chest, and forced me to drink her blood, as we had witnessed the Count do to our dear Mrs. Harker!

God, my soul is lost! Once again, forgive me... Forgive me, Jack! Forgive me, Arthur! I know how much you both loved her! Forgive me, Harker—I have failed Miss Mina... Forgive me, Professor...

Sincerely,

Q. P. Morris