Journal Entry: March 17, 1875, Transylvania
My name is Jonathan Harker and I work as a realtor for a London office, negotiating deals for foreign clients who wish to purchase an English residence or business. My position requires me to scout out a suitable property to match each client's interests and prepare the legal paperwork for the transaction.
One day, my employer received correspondence from Count Dracula in the country of Transylvania, located beside Russia on the coast of the Black Sea. He was interested in immigrating to England and wanted us to find him a home that would satisfy a particular set of conditions. It took me almost three weeks to secure a property that he found acceptable, but after he reviewed the property, I managed to settle on a good price. Then, much to my chagrin, he requested that I deliver the paperwork to him personally at his castle in Transylvania.
I discussed the situation with my fiancée, Mina, and she encouraged me to make the trip. We were planning to be married in the autumn and the trip would possibly postpone our plans, but I knew that the count's business was important.
I did not know then that I would be placing myself and my beautiful Mina in terrible danger.
It was a long and difficult journey to Transylvania, first by boat from England and then on land by coach. Finally, after several days of travel, we reached a small town called Bistritz, nestled at the foot of a high mountain ridge. The driver informed me that his horses needed to be fed and rested, so I stepped out of the coach and found a quaint little inn where I could eat supper. The atmosphere was warm and friendly, and before too long, I was approached by the kind innkeeper, who offered me a glass of ale and a mutton steak. "Where are you headed?" he asked.
"I'm taking some legal papers to Castle Dracula," I replied. A sudden hush came over the room; everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me.
"Here," said the innkeeper, taking a gold cross from his neck and handing it to me. "You shouldn't go there. But if you must, take this. It can't completely protect you, but at least it's something."
I hesitantly put it on, and as I turned to leave, I thought I heard someone say "vampire."
The winding road up to Castle Dracula was rugged, yet we were driving at a modest pace. The air had turned frigid once the sun set behind the mountains, and for the first time, I realized just how high we'd climbed. I felt chilled from the inside out, as though someone had sucked all the heat from my body. I buttoned up my coat and sank down into my seat, hoping to stay warm, but it was no use. I stared up at the dark, foreboding sky and thought of Mina.
Finally, just after three o'clock, we arrived at the castle. I quickly climbed out of the coach, and had barely enough time to retrieve my suitcase before the driver cracked his whip and his horses sped off into the darkness.
"Good evening, sir," a voice spoke from behind me. Startled, I turned around and saw that there was a queer-looking man standing in the doorway. He had white hair, was unnaturally tall, and wore a suit that was completely black. "I am Count Dracula. Please, follow me."
I picked up my suitcase and followed the count through the castle's massive wooden doors, which he locked behind us, and up a flight of stairs. We came to a large, open living room, and I was pleased to find food and wine set out for me on a small table in front of a warm fireplace. "Your room is down the hall," he explained.
After I had put my suitcase away and freshened up, we sat down together at the table by the fire. The count did not eat; he patiently watched me finish my meal, and then talked briefly about the history of the castle. As he was speaking, I couldn't help noticing that his hands were covered in fine hair, like animal fur, and that his fingers were long and bony.
The next morning I awoke with a start, quickly washed, and changed into my suit. Then I went downstairs to find my host and discovered that there was no one to be found in the castle─not even a servant! There was only a note that read: Mr. Harker, Please feel free to explore the castle. But, if you come to a locked room, please do not attempt to enter it. Enjoy your breakfast. We shall discuss more tonight.
I wandered back up the stairs and noticed that a simple breakfast of bread, ham, and water had been set out for me by the fire.
After eating, I returned to my room rather unsatisfied and applied myself to preparing the final paperwork. I hoped that we would be able to finalize the purchase that night and I could begin the long journey home the next day. I was sorely mistaken.
I was preparing for bed that evening when the count knocked on my door and called me into the living room. We sat by the fire, and he asked me a series of seemingly bizarre questions about the home I had selected for him. I explained to him that it was a large, secluded property fenced in by a tall stone wall and surrounded by plenty of old trees. "It even has its own parish chapel," I told him.
"Ah! Does it have a cemetery too? So I would be close to the dead?" he asked.
I was thrown by his question─why would he care about such things? What could he possibly want with a cemetery? We continued talking for a long time, and I became so tired that I began to drift off. All of a sudden, I jerked awake and found the count's face close to mine. I could smell his foul breath─like the smell of death─and almost gagged in disgust. I apologized and retired to my room.
The next evening, I was relieved to discover that the count had signed the paperwork, but my happiness was quickly quashed. He asked me if I would be able to stay on in Transylvania for another month to assist him with some logistical concerns about transporting his material goods to England. I was disappointed; however, I reluctantly agreed because I felt I had no choice.
For the next fortnight, we met regularly, always after sunset, to discuss English culture, politics, and what he should expect in his new environment. In addition, I helped him arrange cargo shipping by boat, although he admitted that he had few material goods to transport. All the talk of the sea reminded me that Mina was scheduled to visit her best friend, Lucy, at her seaside home this summer. I foolishly told the count about Mina and my wedding plans.
One particularly dark evening, I was shaving by the light of a candle lamp, using a hand mirror that Mina had given me the previous year as a birthday gift. Even though I did not see the count's reflection in the mirror, I suddenly felt his hand on my shoulder and jumped back in surprise, cutting my cheek with the razor. "Ouch!" I screamed and threw my hand over the cut. The count rushed toward me and pulled my hand away from my face, revealing a drop of blood. I saw a strange hunger in his eyes. Then, without warning, he grabbed the mirror and threw it on the floor. It broke into a thousand pieces, and without a word, he turned around and abruptly left the room. I heard him lock the door behind him.
My heart was pounding, but it wasn't until I sat down on the bed to think about what had just happened that it dawned on me—I was a prisoner here! I was being held captive in Castle Dracula and there was no way out!