"I tell you, Jervis, this time of year really exhilarates me!" said Professor Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as the Scarecrow, as he entered the apartment he shared with his friend Jervis Tetch, his arms full of Halloween decorations. "So much fear everywhere! A veritable celebration of terror!"
The weather outside was crisp and chilly – the leaves on the admittedly few trees in Gotham City's parks were turning gold, red, and brown, and crunching under the foot of its numerous pedestrians. Clouds had just started to move in, threatening rain and blotting out the autumn sunshine, so it was a relief for Crane to return home to the warmth of the apartment, just as Tetch poured a freshly-brewed pot of tea into two cups.
"I do find the autumnal weather very pleasant indeed," agreed Tetch, handing his friend a cup as they sat down at the table. "There is absolutely nothing to match the pleasure of a nice, hot cup of tea when you come in from a chilly day in the cold."
"Agreed," said Crane, taking a sip from his cup. He paused. "I daresay the Joker would tell us that we need girlfriends from a comment like that."
"Yes," sighed Tetch. "Fortunately he's not here, thank Carroll for small blessings, so don't do his jokes for him, for goodness sake. But on that score, we do need to start thinking about the Halloween party invitations."
"Oh, isn't there any way we can invite Harley and not the clown?" sighed Crane.
"I don't see how, unless you can convince her that you've suddenly developed a phobia of clowns or something," retorted Tetch. "And even then, she'd just beg you to let him come anyway. I imagine the thought of going to a party without him would be unbearable for her."
"Yes, she'd look at me with those big, beautiful blue eyes pleading, her gorgeous red lips trembling and inviting…" murmured Crane.
"Jonathan," said Tetch, warningly.
"I know, I know!" he snapped. "I'm not trying to prove hypothetical Joker right, you know! The last thing I want to imagine is his hypothetical smug grin on his hypothetical smug face!"
"I thought you said you were exhilarated about the celebration of fear, Jonathan," said Tetch. "When one is deprived of one form of passion, the only sensible thing to do is indulge in another. And human beings generally have a wide-range of interests – it seems mad to me to fixate on just one such as romantic relationships. Especially when there are many other worthwhile types of relationships out there."
"It didn't always seem mad to you, did it, Mr. Hatter?" asked Crane, lightly.
"No, I was too mad to see how terribly unhappy it was making me, because fixating on it didn't allow me to see all the other wonderful things about my life," replied Tetch. "My work in the science of the mind, my enjoyment of the Alice stories, and my friendship with you, Jonathan, were all things I took for granted and didn't appreciate because I was so intent on being miserable. I blinded myself to my life's joys just because I was deprived of one form of happiness. But there are others. Like the perfect cup of tea."
"Yes, I'm sure you're right," agreed Crane, with a sigh. "But it will be difficult to endure another evening of Harley fawning all over that monster while he stands there smiling and smiling and being a villain."
"Well, I must admit that there are few people I'd like to come to the Halloween party less," said Tetch, as he began jotting down the list of people to invite. "I mean, I honestly can't think of worse guest, aside from the Queen of Hearts."
A knock came on the front door at that moment. "I wonder who that could be," said Crane, frowning as he stood up to answer it.
His frown changed to a look of surprise as he saw the man standing behind the door. "Mr…Renfield," he stammered. "To what do I owe the…honor? And how did you get this address?"
"Hello, Professor Crane," said Renfield, smiling. "I'm pleased you remember me. It seems to me that since your transformation from Professor of psychology to Arkham inmate, you've been avoiding me."
"Well…I don't necessarily believe in mixing my personal and professional lives," replied Crane. "And since we met under a professional context, Mr. Renfield, it would be awkward for us to have a social relationship now."
"It's not a case of embarrassment about switching from an analyzer of madmen to a madman yourself then?" asked Renfield.
"No, certainly not," retorted Crane. "It was my decision to take my life in this direction. But it's good to see you out of Arkham, Mr. Renfield."
"I escaped," replied Renfield. "As you yourself did. But unlike you, Arkham is not where I belong. I am not mad, so I do not belong in a madhouse. Everything I said, everything I told you about the Master's imminent return, has come to fruition. Behold!" he said, gesturing to the man looming behind him. "The Prince of Darkness, my Lord and Master Count Dracula has returned from beyond the grave!"
Crane nodded slowly, smiling at him. "Will you excuse me for just one moment?" he asked, shutting the door. "Thank you very much."
"Who is it?" asked Tetch, looking up as Crane rubbed his temples, sighing deeply.
"Former patient of mine," muttered Crane.
"Patient?" repeated Tetch. "I thought you were primarily a teacher."
"Yes, I was," replied Crane. "But Arkham called me round to help with this one – he needed a specialist, and with my fear specialty, they assumed I'd be able to make some headway. Mistakenly, I'm sorry to say. Mr. Renfield has an acute paranoia, a religious monomania, and the delusion that he is the incarnation of the character from the novel Dracula."
"I'm afraid I've never read it," replied Tetch. "Those kinds of morbid stories aren't for me, Jonathan, I'm sorry. But I don't see what in particular is wrong with identifying oneself with a literary figure."
"Well, you wouldn't, would you?" asked Crane. "But in the context of the novel, the character of Renfield is not one anybody should be encouraged to emulate. He's a lunatic who consumes insects and spiders and small animals in order to ingest their life, a trick he learned from his so-called 'Master,' Count Dracula. Renfield is almost solely responsible for the near death of one of the heroines, since Dracula cannot enter a building without being invited in, and Renfield is the one who invites him into the lunatic asylum where the protagonists are staying. Fortunately the heroes manage to destroy Dracula before she can be entirely consumed by the vampire's curse. In fact, one of the most appealing things about the novel when I read it as a boy was that the heroes of the story weren't traditional heroes by any means – they weren't athletic, muscular warriors. The leader, Dr. Van Helsing, was an older, intellectual type, who used his knowledge and brains to defeat the great evil that threatened his friends. I found him a much more relatable role model than the typical action hero one usually reads about, like Batman."
"I can't see why any children would idolize a man who dresses in a bat costume and bullies people," replied Tetch. "But then I suppose children are often understandably naïve. But anyone older than the age of about twelve who idolizes Batman is clearly insane. What does this Renfield want?"
"He wants to introduce me to the man he claims is Count Dracula," sighed Crane. "Obviously he's projected his delusion onto some randomer who's decided to take advantage of the lunatic's enthusiasm to serve him. Honestly, how do these people find me?" he muttered, opening the door again and forcing a smile.
"Well, why don't you both come in?" he asked, gesturing inside.
"Thank you very much, Professor Crane," said Renfield, obeying as they both entered the room.
"This is my flatmate, Jervis Tetch," said Crane.
"How do you do?" said Tetch, extending his hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Tetch," said Renfield, shaking his hand. "I am R.M. Renfield, and this is my Lord and Master, the Prince of Darkness himself, Count Dracula."
"I…see," said Tetch slowly, sharing a look with Crane. "Well…would either you like a cup of tea?" he asked.
"I never drink…tea," said Dracula.
"Master consumes only the blood of the living, the vital fluid that gives and sustains life eternally," replied Renfield.
"Well, isn't that…fascinating?" said Tetch, slowly.
"Do you not believe in the Un-dead as well, Mr. Tetch?" asked Renfield. "I am aware that Professor Crane doesn't."
"I believe that there are things in the natural world that we cannot yet rationally explain, and which we call supernatural," retorted Tetch. "Which I believe is Jonathan's view as well. Science as we understand it is a relatively new medium and has yet to explore all possible avenues of research. But as someone who lives in a universe populated by super-powered aliens, I'm certainly not going to dismiss blood-drinking monsters out of hand."
"Yes, I never said I didn't believe in vampires," retorted Crane. "I was attacked by some vampire-like version of Poison Ivy and Catwoman some months ago. But then one can never be sure with those women whether they're demonically possessed or just in an hyper-sexual mood. I merely said I disbelieved that you were some sort of reincarnation of a character from a fictional novel, and that the fictional character Count Dracula was a real person."
"Well, see how wrong you are!" cried Renfield, triumphantly, gesturing at Dracula, who was glancing idly over the party invitation list Tetch had been working on. "Can you not sense the power and greatness exuding from his supreme being?"
"You are having a party?" asked Dracula, looking up at Crane.
"Yes, a Halloween party," replied Crane.
"And you are inviting the Joker?" he asked. "And his mistress?"
"I wouldn't call Harley that," retorted Crane, stiffly.
"I apologize – I am not entirely versed on modern vocabulary for a social arrangement in which a man and woman are sexual partners but unmarried," replied Dracula. "Is the preferable term whore? Or slut?"
"I think…girlfriend is probably the more appropriate word," said Tetch, glancing at Crane's livid face.
"Harley is not…a whore or a slut!" he hissed. "She is the most beautiful, most gentle, most precious angel who ever lived!"
"I am sure she is, and I meant no offense," said Dracula. "I am a stranger here and my knowledge of your vocabulary is limited. I do know of Miss Quinn by reputation only, and that reputation is as a stunningly beautiful woman."
"She certainly is," agreed Crane. "So…do you actually believe you're…the real Count Dracula?"
"How can you not believe it?!" demanded Renfield. "Look at him! Sense his power, his darkness, his…"
"I would like a quick word with Professor Crane in private, Mr. Renfield, if I may," interrupted Dracula. They went into the neighboring room, and Dracula shut the door.
"Honestly, the man is mad, but I don't know any way of getting rid of him for now," said Dracula, rolling his eyes. "The fact is, I am newly arrived in Gotham from Transylvania, and Mr. Renfield met me at the dock and has been following me ever since. I am actually here on business, and I am relieved to finally meet someone who doesn't appear to share Mr. Renfield's madness. He insists that I'm this Count Dracula person, and I don't wish to contradict him for fear of angering him and having him lash out at me violently."
"Oh. I see," said Crane. "Well, is there anything I can do to help? I can't call the police, being a wanted criminal myself, but anything else I can do…"
"It might seem a silly request, but…would you allow me the honor of attending your Halloween party?" asked Dracula. "I would welcome more connections in Gotham to broaden my social circle other than a raving lunatic."
"Well…all of the people there will be considered raving lunatics," said Crane, slowly. "But compared to Mr. Renfield, they all seem somewhat sane."
He nodded. "I see no reason to object. And you appear to already have a costume," he said, nodding at his clothes. "You'll make a splendid vampire."
Dracula smiled without showing his teeth. "Yes, Professor Crane. I certainly think I can manage that."