Sleep, those little slices of death. How I loath them so. Edgar Allen Poe
The storm passed by with some light left from the sun. They managed to stumble to the inn.
"Where have you six been?"
"We went exploring."
"You haven't answered any of my calls!"
"Oh oops." Lucy was rushed to her and Mina's room for a hot shower. She appeared to have come down with a fever.
John sighed lightly and rubbed his eyes yawning. He turned the page of his great grandfather's Diary slowly. He was pouring over the words hoping to find an answer to his odd behavior. It was starting to concern him. Perhaps he was going insane? He looked at the words and noted that his own handwriting was eerily similar to the words he was looking at when he wrote with a pen. It could have been his genetics. Or that he studied them so much slept with them almost.
"John?"
"Yes Mina?"
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine just reading."
"What could possibly keep you up this late?"
"My great grandfather's journal, I've been looking over it."
"Again." Mina muttered and John smiled at her.
"Again." He agreed. She sighed lightly.
"I don't get how you can read that shorthand."
"It's just that. The shorthand is easy once you figure what words are which. It is no different then speaking in slangs." John said and placed the book down turning to look at Mina. "What are you doing up? I thought you would be with Lucy right now."
"I woke up needing a drink. She was still asleep when I-" Mina was cut off by the sound of the door closing.
"What the hell?" John scowled a bit. He walked over to Quincy and Arthur's room.
"What is it?"
"It's not you. Mina go and see if it was Jack. Someone just closed the front door." Quincy pulled his shirt on and grabbed one of his large hunting knives. He'd bought them in the town claiming they would make for wonderful mementos and that they looked beautiful. John could understand that. They did reflect a certain beauty however he preferred the feeling of wood on his fingertips then of steel.
"It wasn't me. Mina's gone and checked. Lucy's bed is empty." Jack said from the doorway. Arthur got up faster.
"She must be sleep walking because of her fever. We have to go and get her before she gets hurt." He said pulling on pants and a shirt. John pulled on his shoes and opened the front door. The chilly night air rushed at him.
"Arthur you and Quincy look around the house Jack we'll head down the main street." He said and they nodded.
"Way to be a leader in time of need." Quincy chuckled and they split up. Jack looked at the other streets.
"Do you think she is alright?"
"I don't know. I've been going over my great grandfather's notes again."
"Mina did say you were slightly obsessed with them."
"I won't deny I know them better then a bible."
"Nothing to be ashamed of. I know my great grandfather's work better then one as well."
"Lucy seems so listless lately. Her fever isn't improving and it's been three days."
"She'll be better when we get home."
"I hope you're right she's starting to look dreadfully pale."
"There she is! Lucy!" The girl didn't stop and Jack raced forwards gently taking her arm. "Lucy. Lucy are you alright? Come now we must get you back inside." Jack said and John noticed a scratch on her wrist. There was another on her neck.
"Jack. Her neck and wrist have scratches."
"She must have hurt herself in her sleep." John wanted to say that the one on her wrist looked older but didn't. He wasn't sure what to make of this.
"Jack could I read your great grandfather's notes?"
"Sure. You don't think what happened to Lucinda Westenra is happening to our Lucy do you?"
"I don't know but I aim to find out."
They made it back to the inn and handed over the limp body of Lucy. Arthur set to waking her.
"Hm? Arthur? What's going on?" She murmured confused.
"You were sleep walking love." He said. John looked at the clock.
"It's late. We all need to sleep." He said and they agreed with him. John couldn't shake the feeling that he should have locked all the windows and doors.
'For the sake of those that love you…' The words of the Gypsy woman came back to his mind. John shook his head and closed his eyes. He would worry over it tomorrow. For now he needed to rest. They all did.
John's eyes snapped open and he heard something outside. He sat up and his heart beat wildly like he'd run a marathon. He looked over at Jack who looked at him frowning.
"What was that?" They demanded at the same time both climbing from their beds. They heard nothing more and John felt his cross around his neck gripping it tightly. He saw a shadow dart across the window and blinked.
"John?" Jack asked as the other male ran over to the back door opening it. A figure moved through the trees and then was gone.
"Did you just see someone walking through the trees then vanish?"
"Yeah." John nodded to Jack's slightly afraid plea.
"Come on let's go." John said heedless of his missing shoes. Jack looked ready to protest the matter but thought better of it and raced off with John to the trees. They followed after the person using the moon's light to guide them. They came to a clearing. Jack panted looking around and John frowned, eyes scanning the trees for the person.
"John I think we lost them."
"Or rather, they have lost us. Come it looked like they were possibly heading for the Chapel."
"That place was surrounded by wolves last time we were there."
"We never actually saw any wolves only heard them." John reasoned softly. Jack shook his head.
"I'm not risking it. We'll look for the prowler in the morning, for all we know it could have been one of the townsfolk." Jack sighed ready to turn back now that the adrenaline had rushed out and his cool logic returned to him.
"…" John gave a curt nod and looked back to Jack. His eyes moved passed the other man and widen. There is a snap from behind Jack and John's pale face didn't reassure him.
"Jack." John whispered softly as if he was afraid to speak.
"What is it John?" He breathed his heart trying to break through his breastbone and run free.
"Don't stop running." John whispered sounding as if he was barely breathing. Jack would have been concerned if their lives weren't in obvious peril. John carefully lowered to his knees and collected a large enough stone before chucking it forcefully over Jack's shoulder. There was a yelp and a hellish growl. Jack took off like a bat out of hell with John hot on his heels. Jack glanced back once. The wolf was huge and black as night.
"If we can get to the edge of town we can get help!"
"No we won't. Not on this night."
"What? Why?"
"There is no way that anyone in the town is going to open their doors on a night like this. It is a full moon."
"They don't leave the house because of Werewolves?"
"Yes."
"Well we have a wolf problem alright."
"If you can be cynical you can fun faster!" John grunted trying to push his poor human body passed its limits.
"Oh god we're going to die." Jack muttered trying to do the same to his body as the pounding of the Wolf's paws drew closer.
"No." John took a sudden sharp turn around a tree and the wolf ran passed. John walked them back around hiding them slightly.
"I'll draw it off. You wait here until it follows me and then go back to the inn. Get Quincy and his knives." John whispered and Jack looked like he was crazy.
"That's suicide!"
"I got you into this I shouldn't have taken off. Just go. See if Arthur is willing to leave Lucy. I doubt it but its okay. I promise I'll double back somehow. Go once you're sure it's followed me." John said before moving away.
"Jonathan you'd best come back or Mina will kill me." John smiled weakly and nodded lightly.
"What are best friends for?" He asked. He then darted out snapping a tree branch. The Wolf's head snapped up at him.
"Over here you mutt!" He yelled running again the Wolf followed him almost instantly. As if John had been it's target all along.
'And Mina claims that I am a boy who jumps at everything.' He wanted to laugh. He felt euphoria. He looked up the hillside and started to climb up the steep sides. If it were not for the threat of the Wolf losing interest in him John would have climbed a tree. But then it could go after Jack. He continued to climb desperately. He gritted his teeth and dared to glance back. The Wolf was taking a somehow methodical approach to its ascension. He finished scrambling up and was about to start his loop back when the Wolf leapt up landing in his path. Its eyes were a burning bloody red.
"Shit." John whispered backing away. He glanced over his shoulder seeing he was a step away from the side and would fall down the hillside and down in the creek below him if he took a false step. When he looked back at the Wolf he found that there was no long a wolf baring down on him.
Instead there was a man naked as the day he was born. His hair was curly and wavy falling in wildly dangerous strands to his shoulders. His skin was deathly pale almost as if he have never been in the sunlight. However his eyes are what struck John the most. They were a shocking bloody red color, just like the Wolf's had been, that was simply not natural. The man's face was familiar to John. But the man couldn't place it. He knew it but he didn't. The Man smirked at him showing a pair of sharp teeth. John was uneasy the pale moonlight barely slipped passed the leaves of the trees in this section of forest. John's uneasy heightened when the man's teeth seemed to glitter.
"It has been so long Friend Harker. And yet… Your scent has not changed a bit." The Man purred voice like velvet; soft yet rough. It seemed to caress John in the darkness of the shadows.
"Where did the Wolf go? I was being chased by one. It is dangerous here." He said trying to figure out what was happening. His mind raced as he tried to ignore the fact that this man who was familiar but not knew who we was. However he was far more focused on the danger that was surely still lurking in the shadows then the man before him. His eyes trailed away and he looked at the deep shadows. The Man chuckled and John's eyes widened slightly feeling his breath on his neck.
Long elegant fingers reached out and lightly touched the scar on his neck. The light tracing touches were soft almost as if there were memories connected to the scar. John could never really remember how he got that particular scar.
"You cut yourself shaving." The man supplied the answer.
"Did you not hear me?" John demanded taking a step back. He heard rocks skitter and fall down the hillside. He was running out of room.
"I heard you just fine Jonathan. As for where it is…" He chuckled once more smirking viciously eyes glittering maliciously. "Do you not remember the saying 'Wolf in sheep's clothing'? You are the one who told it to me after all."
"We have never met before. I've no idea who you are. Where is the wolf?" John said.
"Oh Jonathan… Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan, you silly boy. I have so missed your rejection of the truth and reality so dearly." The Man purred taking the slightest step forward his chest millimeters away from John's.
"Remember dear Harker, my Harker." A clawed finger traced down from the top of John's cheek to his jaw. "All the time you were so blissfully unaware of my plans for you and your Mina. I never thought for a moment a mere human such as you would be the one to destroy my plans and me. More of a delay on myself though really." He mused smiling darkly.
"You're speaking madness! You and I have never met before."
"Yes we have."
"No we have not." John growled a bit glaring. The Man pressed his chest to John humming softly. John felt his mind starting to blank with fear. He didn't understand. Why was he so afraid? He didn't know why he should be. It was just his instincts telling him he was in danger, mortal danger. It was that strange sense of self again. He was in control but he was not. Only this time the feelings of it were colliding. It was as if he was inside his body and not at the same time.
"Ge-Get away from me Count!" He shoved the Man away from him and then fell backwards. His eyes widened. He reached out for a tree but his momentum was too great.
He slipped backwards and it was like the world was moving in slow motion. The Man looked concerned but overall smug with satisfaction. John's mind raced to connect the dots that were glaringly obvious but slightly obscured by blurring vision. Memories were screaming at him trying to force him to remember things that he somehow forgot. He closed his eyes tightly and waited to hit the ground and continue his fall. He felt stone under him. He opened his eyes and the Man was looking down at him. His face was cradled between the Man's hands.
"Sleep." He cooed softly to John. He was commanding John to sleep. Why was this familiar? Like it had happened before? A baby wailed in the background. Because it was familiar. It was a memory.
"A baby… I hear a baby." He muttered trying to reason with the Man that something was wrong. Why was there a babe here? Where was here? Why was the Man, the Count, more concerned with him? Why was he a Count? What was he Count of? John desperately wanted to remember and forget. The Count chuckled lightly as sleep started to drag John down into the lair of Morpheus. John remembered this. It happened before. But before when?
"Sleep dear Harker. Sleep." The Count commanded as he bent his head kissing the fresh cut on John's neck. But wait that wasn't a cut it was a scar. John's memories –Or maybe they were really dreams– were blurring together in a haze of dull colours.
John's eyes snapped open. He felt like he'd just run a marathon. He heard a noise outside and looked over at Jack who was up as well.
"Did you hear that?" Jack asked softly. John looked towards the window getting up and moving to the door. He saw a figure walking through the trees before they disappeared. He reached up clutching the cross around his neck. He looked up at the full moon.
"John? Jonathan!" John jumped slightly looking back at Jack. Had it been a dream truly? Had he somehow imagined this?
"Who was that? If they are a townsperson we should go and find them. They could get hurt."
"Not tonight."
"What?"
"Not tonight. It's not a good night." John said clutching his cross tighter.
"John?"
"Tonight is not a good night." He said firmly and closed the door locking it before he drew a cross over it. The feeling did not come. He was himself throughout. He was Jonathan Harker.
"Jonathan?" Jack asked confused.
"It is confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution."
"Oscar Wilde?" John nodded and then walked back to his bed. He fell onto it without another thought. He knew that he would get no more sleep on this night however and simply lay there. He heard Jack shuffling about and then his bed groaned with his weight. John sighed softly and looked at the wall. He couldn't afford to sleep or the monsters would come. Or the Count would come.