Simon Hawke: The Dracula Caper

"Count Dracula," said Conan Doyle.

"I see you gentlemen are awake," said Dracula. "How are you feeling? I trust there were no ill effects?"

"Beyond a slight dizziness and a lingering headache, no," said Doyle. "We are apparently little the worse for wear."

"See here, Dracula!" said Stoker. "What is the meaning of this? What gives you the right to have us abducted in such a manner? What do you intend to do with us? I demand an explanation!"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Stoker," the vampire said. "You are in my home. Here, I am the master. I will insist that you address me in a civil tone. As to what gives me the right to bring you here, allow me to remind you that it was you who followed me, skulking in the night like a pair of common cutthroats."

"Whereas you. Count Dracula, are a singularly uncommon one," said Conan Doyle. "It was you, was it not, who was responsible for the vicious murders in Whitechapell"

"In part, yes."

'`Then my suspicions were correct," said Doyle. "There was more than just one killer. You had an accomplice."

"In a manner of speaking. yes."

"Then you admit it!" said Stoker.

"Certainly." said Dracula.

"You are a monster, sir!"

The vampire smiled ruefully. "In more ways than you realize, Mr. Stoker. I am, indeed, a monster. I could no more help myself than you could contain your moral outrage upon hearing my confession. In order to survive, I must drink human blood and if I am to spare my victims the agony of an existence such as mine, it is necessary for me to kill them. I cannot always do so, but when I do, believe me. I am doing them a kindness."

Stoker stared at him, appalled. "You are insane!"

"I shall not debate the point with you." said Dracula. "Insanity, you might say, runs in my family. The very idea of a creature such as I am is insanity itself.”

"Then you truly believe that you are a vampire'?" said Doyle. In response. Dracula bared his teeth, exposing his fangs. Stoker gasped and recoiled, but Doyle stood firm.

"Merely a malformation of the canines," he said. "An unfortunate defect, but not even all that uncommon. Certainly no proof of a supernatural existence."

"How very curious that you should use that word.” said Dracula. "Ironic, Mine is indeed a 'super-natural' existence, although not quite in the sense you mean. Come, allow me to show you something."

"The man is a raving lunatic!” whispered Stoker as Dracula led them out of the roomlighting their way down a long flight of stone stairs which followed the curvature of the castle wall.

"Unquestionably," said Doyle, "and highly dangerous, but he is nevertheless a man and not some reincarnated demon."

"He is only one and we are two," whispered Stoker. "We can easily overpower him-"

"Perhaps not so easily,” said Doyle. "Lunacy often tends extraordinary strength. I have seen grisly evidence of what this man can do in the bodies of his victims. Let us not be hasty. He has not acted alone in this. We must learn what we can and wait for a moment that is opportune, then we must make our move. But we must do it quickly. We can take no chances with this madman."

He led them down the stairs to the great hall of the castle and they saw that part of the huge structure was in ruins. Piles of rubble were on the floor where old mortar had given way and stones had fallen down, leaving large holes in the high ceiling. There was a gaping fissure in one wall and bats flew in and out of it, screeching, the echoes of their cries reverberating throughout the great hall. Huge cobwebs hung in the corners and rats scurried across the floor. Everything looked as if it had been abandoned for centuries. They continued downward, through a great wooden, iron- reinforced door and down another long, steep flight of stone steps, the light from the candelabrum throwing huge, garish shadows on the walls.

"Where are you taking us?" said Stoker fearfully. He stopped on the stone steps. "These stairs lead down to the dungeons, don't they?"

"Yes. Mr. Stoker, they do," the vampire said.

"In that case. I refuse to go another step!"

"I have no objection," Dracula said. "You may remain here if you wish and wait for us. Mr. Doyle, I think, would be interested in seeing what I have to show him."

"Very well, lead on," said Conan Doyle.

"Wait!" said Stoker, hurrying after them. He caught up to Doyle and whispered, "Forgive me, Arthur. I am ashamed of myself. Whatever happens from here on, we shall face it together!”

"There is no shame in being afraid," said Doyle. "I can feel my own knees shaking, but we must screw our courage to the sticking point and see this thing through, come what may."

"Listen!" Stoker whispered harshly. "What in heaven's name is that?"

From below, as if from a great distance, came a keening wail, an inhuman chorus of animal shrieks that grew louder as they descended.

"My God, Arthur," Stoker said hoarsely, "what on earth have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Steady, Stoker," Doyle said. "Whatever it is, we shall find out soon enough. Be prepared for anything."

They reached the bottom of the steps and followed Dracula down a damp, narrow stone corridor with a low ceiling. Stoker uttered a sound of disgust as huge rats scurried past their feet. Soon they reached another large wooden door. The screams were louder now. Dracula drew back a huge iron bolt and opened it. The chorus of screams rose suddenly in volume, almost deafening them.

They were on a stone landing high above a large, underground chamber lit by torches set into sconces in the walls. In front of them was a steep flight of stone steps, leading down to the dungeon floor. There was no wall or railing, nothing to stop them from falling to the stone floor thirty feet below should they lose their footing and slip.

"May the saints preserve us!" Stoker said. "We have descended into hell!"

Below them in the dungeon, behind thick iron bars set into the stone, were scores of creatures bearing only a passing resemblance to men and women. Their clothes were torn and filthy, stained with blood. Some were completely covered with hair, looking like rabid, snarling beasts. They hurled themselves against the iron bars and howled like wolves. Some attacked each other, jaws snapping, claws slashing, and a few had fallen and were being greedily devoured by others in their cells. Still others looked almost normal, except for their emaciated appearance, their hollow, staring eyes devoid of any sanity, and their abnormally long and pointed canine teeth, visible as they opened their mouths to emit throat-rending screams and thrust their hands out through the bars.

There were manacles set into the Wall and, in the center of the chamber, there was a smaller room partitioned off by steel-framed glass, inside of which they could see a bizarre array of laboratory equipment, among which were a number of large standing lamps, metal cabinets with trays holding surgical implements and a long operating table with strong restraining straps.

"Here is the solution to your case, gentlemen!" Dracula shouted over the uproar. "The dawn of a new race! The new breed brought forth by my creator!"

Both men stood frozen on the steps as Dracula descended to the floor of the chamber. He looked up at them, eyes blazing. "Here is true insanity for you!" he shouted over the din.

You wanted to learn the truth? Well, gaze upon it! Allow me to introduce you to my family! My brothers and my sisters! My creator's legacy!"

He hurled the candelabrum at the iron bars with all his might. sending sonic of the creatures scampering back.

"Shut up!" he screamed. "Shut up. damn you all. SHUT UP!"

As Conan Doyle and Stoker stood motionless, staring in stunned disbelief, the vampire slumped down, brought his hands up to his face and wept.