But Jonathan was a man of business, not of superstition. As night fell, a black coach drawn by four horses arrived. The driver’s face was hidden in shadow. They raced through the Borgo Pass, and wolves howled on every side. At last, the great castle loomed before him—a crumbling fortress of stone and decay. Count Dracula greeted him at the door. He was a tall, pale man dressed in black. His breath smelled of blood, and his hands were cold as ice. “Welcome,” he said in a low, polite voice. “Enter freely and of your own will.”
Lucy grew pale and weak. Dr. John Seward, a young psychiatrist, called his old teacher, Professor Abraham Van Helsing from Amsterdam. Van Helsing looked at Lucy’s throat and whispered, “This is no ordinary illness. The wounds are like pinpricks. And she is losing blood, but there is no bleeding.” Van Helsing placed garlic flowers around Lucy’s room and wore a crucifix. “These will keep the evil away,” he said. But Lucy’s mother, not understanding, removed the garlic. That night, a bat flew against the window. The next morning, Lucy was deathly pale. Her gums had receded, and her teeth looked longer. dracula short story pdf
The men fought the gypsies. Jonathan Harker slashed the throats of the horses, stopping the cart. Van Helsing opened the box. The Count’s eyes flew open—red, furious, burning with hatred. But his power was weak in daylight. But Jonathan was a man of business, not of superstition
“This is not Lucy,” Van Helsing said. “She is one of the Un-Dead—a vampire.” They raced through the Borgo Pass, and wolves