The Concluding

{Authors Note: This is a sequel to the “Revisit” and “The Letter” stories, and the third and possibly last installment in the Dracoola series. We wanted the series to go out with a big story, so that’s what we wrote. We both wrote it, and put our characters together in it. Again, it‘s a series of journal entries, letters, and other things. Think of it as a Christmas present to you, our readers. It‘s not as abstractly comedic as the others. It’s more story based, but defiantly a comedy story.}

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Diary of Herald Fitzgerald Frankoonstein

~April 29~ night

I find it hard to tell you of my latest experiences for I was quite drowsy and was strangely struck on the head by Mr. Whistle. It left a knot the size of a golf ball of sorts. Yet, I remember strange sights and sounds; howlings, ramblings, runnings, screamings, and poundings. It was most remarkable how I landed in the carriage of Charles, I would surely be gone if it were not for that fine gent!

What outstanding memories he must have of the chase to this hospital. I must read his dairy someday to, maybe, refresh my flickering memory.

Ah! I almost forgot. I have been in this bed for the last 2 days, and last night I had an odd happening that happened to happen to me. I was in a dream state of sorts, and the window was open and a chill wind rose from outside and floated in on me. I must admit it was quite nice feeling. That is until I saw a most unconventional fog wander it's way in. It was slow-moving and thickly. I laid, aghast at this side, and set up hastily. The fog, appearing to notice my sudden fright, shot back out the window. And, if my memory does not deceive, I think it actually spoke!

"Inside the mind, black wheels will grind!" It said, I presume.

I am truly speculating that it was a dream. Yet the past days and weeks forbid the thought to go far. I wish for morning light to touch my pale face.

Charles Hanes Whistle's Journal

May, 1

Dear, dear journal, and reader,

By the will of the good God by God I say unto you, thank you! I have just enough strength to write, so I shall!

Moona! I have never mentioned her in any of my previous entries but I shall tell you about her now! Her name is Moona! My dearly beloved Moona! How I do love her so!

She is coming to see me at noon today. I am in the town hospital as I write this. We will wed while I'm in bed. You see I have suffered from a brain fever from my experiences. I shudder at the thought of the Count, and what he has done to me. Though I salivate at the thought of his scrambles eggs.

Ah yes! how did I forget?! Herald Frankoonstein! He's fine but I'll tell you what followed after he crashed through the roof of the carriage and I wrote it down.

{April 27, four days ago}

I shoved my journal back in my coat pocket, but before I could put my pen up we hit a large bump in the road, and by God my dear pen flew out of my hands and out the window! It was tragic. I lay down and sobbed. The horses snarled and neighed. We were going at top speed, or was it bottom?

I lay there watching the trees fly without my window. Three days I lay there before dear Herald awoke. He started and screamed aloud. It was ear shattering. In-fact I had not seen him wake, and it gave me such a start I screamed also and layed him out with a knuckle strike. He fell back into a deep slumber. I felt horrible.

I gathered my strength and poked my head out the window to see if we were being followed. What I saw shocked me, it was so shocking I don't think I can explain what I saw, but I shall try. It was not wolves, it was not ogres nor werewolves, nor beasts or monsters, it was Dracoola, and he was hot on us. But not like the Dracoola I had known, I believe he had released all of the hell fury that was, or is, in him. And by God it was horribly terrible.

He was massive. He must have been 11 feet in height. His black robes were mighty, and many, if that makes any sense. His hair, long, tremendously long, and flowing, His teeth shown like icicles, and were terribly long! His eyes were at full blaze, wide open in hate! His eye brows were again a hot bar of iron, but now encompassed his entire forehead! Each stomp he made was like the sound of a great thunder storm! But strangely the ground did not shake, at-least not to me. But the strongest thing of all was the smell of him. Even from where I was I could smell him. It was the most overwhelming thing I have ever experienced! It was that smell of the drivers hair, oil! Horribly, terribly, tremendously, breathtakingly strong. I vomed on the spot and toileted myself.

I threw myself back in the carriage and started scooping the toilet matter out of my pants, and out the window at Dracoola. It was rank, and for some reason I thought it might stop him. It didn't of-course.

I had to get him off of our tail! I awoke Herald. He started but did not scream. There was a horrible looking knot just over his left eye where I had struck him. I said my apologies and they were excepted. I told him the situation at hand.

"I am at a loss, I don't know what to do." he muttered. Then grimaced, and lifted his right arm up. By God it was all wrong-ways. It was bent twice from the fall he underwent, once right past the elbow, and another time at the wrist. He held it out, staring at it, and said:

"Oh my, what a terrible inconvenience." And then with expert skill, slung it back in place, somehow. If I could describe to you how it sounded, it would be something like this: SNAP, CRACKLE, and POP!

Then the madness happened. Just as Herald had finished fixing his arm, a mighty arm crashed through Herald's side's window. It was the Count's, I could tell by the long finger nails, and the curly hairs in the center of the palms. But then something happened that was most wild. The hairs in the palms grew longer, and longer, soon they filled the entire carriage. They wreathed about us, and tangled around us. It was most frightening and odd. The oil smell came on me again, but I suppressed an upchuck.

All-of-a-sudden there was a great crash as if the Count had ran into a tree, and his arm flew back out of the carriage, ripping his palm hairs out, leaving them wrapped tightly around me and Herald. We untangled and stuck our heads out of the carriage and looked back to see if the Count had been stopped.

We were shocked to find him rather far behind, but still hot on us, his entire right side was dented in vertically in the shape of a tree-trunk. It made him run awkward. Then he yelled and leaped amazingly far. As he soared toward us I perceived he was going to crash on us. I grabbed up Herald, quickly made my way to the driver's seat, and leaped for a horse just as the Counts arms hammered the carriage to a thousand million pieces right behind us. I landed on the left horse, crotch first mind you, with Herald in my lap. I turned my head back and the Count was gaining and terribly angered, then I got an idea. I looked down at Herald and asked him if he had a knife. He looked as if he was fading in and out of consciousness, but nodded and produced a knife so large and heavy God knows how he fit it in his clothing. I grabbed it sliced down at the ropes that held the horses together. I freed the other horse and ran mine into it slightly to slow it down. It worked, and as it fell behind towards the Count, and with a terrible scream of anger he crashed into it and seemed to shrink back to his normal self as he tumbled and flipped on the ground. We were free!

"Ya!" I yelled. "To the town hospital!" I added, hoping the horse understood. Evidently it had. We reached the town and then made our way to the hospital. I jumped off holding Herald and the great horse darted away, back toward the castle road I presume.

{May 1}
And now here I lay, writing this down, waiting for Moona.

{Later}
Ah, my dear Moona! She made it on time and we wedded! How I love her so!
She had bought me some new clothes as a wedding gift. They were all brown, shoes, trousers, socks, undershirt, top coat, and a hat. Oh my Moona, how thoughtful of her! I hadn’t anything to give her and apologized. But she smiled and said: “Oh Charles! Don’t worry. Just buy me a new house sometime.”

“Of-course.” I said, and fell asleep.

{Later, before midnight.}
I have been through quite a-lot since I last wrote in the hospital. I shall tell where I am, and what took place.

{A few hours ago}
By God I was awoke by my hospital room door opening. And through it stepped a tall male nurse. I was instantly aware of whom the man was by the presence he gave off. The hairy presents. It was the Count! He was wearing the standard nurses clothing but it was drenched in blood. He glared at me. He was clean shaven, and his long hair was pulled back and bound behind his rather large head.

And just as he was about to lunge at me, I'm sure, another nurse waltzed in. He stopped and turned. The female nurse gasped and said:

"Oh my! Are you alright?! Is that blood?!"

And the Count answered, with cunning speech: "Ah? No, no. My dear lady, it is vine."

"Vine?" replied the nurse.

"Yes, vine." He was growing angry.

"Oh, oh... Wine!" chuckled the nurse.

The Count's eyes flamed! "YOU... RUDY... BITCH!" screamed the Count. "I SAID VINE!!!!" And with one mighty swoop of his long arm, he made open the woman's throat with a long, sharp fingernail. Oh my God, the blood! It was a mess, everywhere it sprayed. The count seized her before she fell. He opened his mouth, his tongue protruded out, letting the blood fly in. Bliss, on his face.

I jumped out of my bed while he was indulging. I grabbed up my clothes, sprinted across the room, out dove out the open window! I fell three stories and onto goose. God speed you wonderful fowl! It saved my life.

Diary of Herald F. Frankoonstein

~May 1~ dusk

This bed is beginning to feel like an awful coffin. It makes me think of the Count. I can almost feel him beside me. I am afraid to glance over my shoulder on occasions.

---(-)---

Good heavens! I fear I just saw a fellow fall by my window! A soft thump and a quack I heard follow. I wish I could stand and walk over to peer out, but both of my legs are broken.

Yes, they hurt.

---(-)--- near morning

The blasted fog of sorts is creeping into my window now! I lay as still as a man who has croaked. It is wandering toward me! I will jump up on my mangled legs and shut the window. This is not going to feel well, I presume.

I..I.. am bleeding, horribly. My God help me. Someone help me!

Charles Whistle’s Journal

I got up, and ran, and ran, and ran until I found my way to a library of all places. Outside I quickly dressed in the clothes my Moona had bought me. When I had dressed, I calmly strolled in the library. Inside was an old kind woman. Bent, very bent, but kind. I asked her for some water, she smiled, nodded, and was off.

I was then caught by the sound of labored breathing coming from the corner. I looked.

In the corner sat a monstrously large man. Six and a half feet at full height a presume. The chair he was seated in was dwarfed by the size of what was atop it. He was wearing silver-rimmed glasses. The man's hair was strawberry-blond. And what little he had left of it was swept back over his large shiny skull and came to rest at the back of his neck, there it curled upward. Curly sideburns running down each side of his intriguing face. His face was red and plump, below, three chins met a blue bow-tie. He was reading two books at once, cradled more by his huge stomach than his great hands.

I thought he was looking at me so I waved slightly.

No response followed.

I moved closer. When I got a better angle on him I found that the eye that I thought was observing me was cocked. He was reading with his right. I felt drawn to him. As if God himself were leading me to him. I approached and sat in a chair beside him. He didn't smell too well I can tell you that.

"Hello." I said.

He started slightly, grunted, cleared his throat, and turned his head, looking at me with his right eye. His eyes were a dark blue and keen, well, the right one.

"Hallo!" He uttered, with a tremendously deep voice. Barley discernible due to a thick accent I could not place. I started a tad at the shear power behind his voice. "I sorry I not see you there! My eye left is quite... dead." He said slowly and raised his hand, and flicked the lazy cocked eye.

I winced at the sight, but maintained my manners. I hardly knew what he said, but made sense of it.

"It's quite alright." I said. "What is your name?"

"Voon! Abroohoom Voon Helsing!" He grinned and shot up his right hand for a shake. As he did the books fell from his lap. "Ah no, hold on." He said and bent over for the books on the floor at his feet. He grunted and strained. The chair, squeaking and popping, seeming about to burst. He made one last lunged of sorts for the books, but no gold, as they say.

He grunted as he sat back up properly, cleared his throat, and shot back out the hand. I took it and shook it.

"My name is Charles." I said, his hand enveloping mine, a very warm, soft hand, but rough in texture. "Charles Whistle."

He released. "Ja! Nice to meet!" He said.

The old bent lady approached with the glass of water I asked for in her shaking, faltering grip. "Here you go dear." She said as she held out the water in her hand, sending it spilling and splashing on me. I seized it.

"Thank you so much." I said, but she was already off.I started drinking the rather warm water. But by God I was thirsty. Relieved, I turned back to Voon.

"So, where are you from?" I asked.

"I am Hollands!" He managed.

"Ah, um, you are Dutch?" I asked.

"Ja! You?" he replied.

"I'm from the London area." I answered.

"You must mauke money okee! London fine boozness if come there from!" he laughed.
I smiled, not knowing to answer or not.

He jolted in his chair, almost leaping off it. "Ah! Charles Whistle?!" he yelled, excitement in his eyes.

"Yes." I said.

"My Lord dear! I've you heard of! The lad went to Count's kasteel! And twice leeved to tell!" He coughed hoarsely and loudly, then brought a pipe to his mouth. But stopped before lighting it.

"Mind smoke?" he seemingly asked.

"Well, actually, I would rather you not, I'm not feeling too well." I said as politely as possible.

"Neen problem." he said, and put the pipe away, then cleared his throat. "Where were I?" He paused, and thought for a minute. Then suddenly jolted again. "Ah ja! ja! Charles Whistle!"

"Yes." I repeated."What honor! I've heard you of! Nice to meet!"

"Thank you." I said. “So, you've heard of me?" I asked.

He turned. "Ja!"

"Would you like to read this?" I asked and took out my diary, presenting it to him.

His eyes grew wide. "Ah! Ja! Ja! I love read!"

I handed it to him. And he started reading it. Every page. By God it was fascinating. A page every five or six seconds I presume!

As he read I heard the entrance door open, and through it walked a very tall man. He was wearing all black, a long black overcoat, and I wide-brimmed hat that shadowed his face. He reminded me of someone, but I was so enthralled by Voon's reading ability, my mind drifted from the strange man.

"Hmm." sounded Voon. "Ah! Mm. Ahem!"

A few minutes went by of the reading and the noises until he was done.

He took a deep breath and handed my journal back to me. "Brilliant!" He yelled. "Amazing!" His sudden outburst catching the attention of the tall man in black. Which was now wandering the shelves, examining some of the books.

"Ahhh! So okee! I okee news! I known of this Count! I tell you how kill!" Voon uttered.

"You know how to kill him?!" I asked, very shocked.

"Ja! Paal heart in!" he said.

"I'm sorry, "paal?" I asked.

"Paal... english?..." I presume it was a question."I don't know what you're saying." I said, confused.

"Uhhh.. paal... Wood! Sharp!" he was miming something seemingly obscene. Thrusting his hand up and down, as if stabbing something perhaps.

The tall man grew in agitation it seemed, and finally quickly turned and said loudly: "A stake!" By God the voice! It was revealed to me at once of who the man was that was so familiar to me! How dumb I was not to see it! It was him! The Count! I immediately began to perspirate! Shaking seized my body! I felt as though I was about to faint.

"Ah! Dank! Ja, a stake!" said Voon to the Count. Then glanced at me, obviously noticing my sickish state. "Okee you?"

"Ye.. ye.. yes. I.. I'm alright." The words managed to escape my weak lips. I don't think the Count knew who I was, it must have been the hat I had on. The Count put up the book that was in his hand, and left the library. He was probably looking for me, but I was surly saved!

I turned to Voon. "That was him!" I said. "That was Dracoola!"

"Sure?" he asked, quite shocked.

"Positive! That's why I looked sick just then!"

"Oh, pfff... Do.. think he heard me talking of kill him?!" Voon asked.

"I don't think he understood you much. Just maybe you trying to say "stake". Besides, you didn't say his name." I replied, still shaking a tad.

"God on our side!" He smiled. "Ah! Don't be troubles! Now he think you not here. You safe!" he smiled. "I live here. You may live here also! For time. Accept?"

"Yes, thank you!" I was relieved and humble.

"Ja, go stairs up, doon hall, doon hall right, second door left. That be you bedroom. I live next room." said Voon. "I tell old woman. Go, rest. We talk morrow"

"Thank you." I said and started for the stairs. I walked up them, then straight down a hall until I came to another hall on the right side, down it, until a reached the second door on the left. I opened it and before I walked inside Voon came thundering down the hall! His massive body squeezing down it and past me.

"Badkamer, badkamer, badkamer!" he kept repeating. He raced inside his room (the third room on the left) and slammed the door. A few clatters and a slammed door later I heard it. A prolonged yell of relief, and then the sounds immense defecation.

"Uahahahahahhhh... SPLASH! PLUNK! SPLAH! PPPFFFFF!" The yell of relief turned to a moan, followed by a deep breath.

I walked inside my new bedroom. It was small but cozy. A small bed, a table with a lit lantern beside it, a small sofa, a fireplace, and a medium sized window above the small table. And connected to my room was a bathroom. Thank the Lord! I had to toilet! I looked about and found a clock on the wall. It read: 9:05 pm.

I toileted, bathed, and now have written this down by the lantern light on the small table beside my bed.

Tomorrow, I shall talk some more with Voon, and find Moona, my dear Moona.So, good night.

{______

May, 2

Morning broke through the dark night sky like a ray of hope! I have just awoke no more than thirty minutes ago and am ready to see what the day brings! Off I go.

{Later, noon}
I'm writing this as me and Voon are outside a small cafe next to the rather busy town road. We are waiting for my lovely Moona! She is to meet us here. I put a letter of this text in her mail box this morning:

“Dear my dearly beloved lovely Moona! This is your husband, Charles.

I have encountered the Count in my hospital room but escaped! I made my way to the town library and met a man named Voon Helsing! He says he knows how to kill the Count!

Yes, the Count is in town but do not fear my dear! Voon says to where a cross around your neck and you'll be fine!

Voon and I would like to meet you outside the town cafe. We will be there all day until you arrive. So take your time if you must my love! See you soon.

I Love you so.

P.S. Listen closely to what Voon says, he is hard to understand.”

Now that I think of it, I don't know why I didn't just knock on her door when I put that letter in her box.

Me and Voon have talked today. And here is what was revealed to me about the Count by the professor Voon who has studied him and his ways for years:

-Dracoola is a voompire of sorts!
-He is hundreds of years old.
-He can be killed by a stake to the heart, or any other sharp object.
-He can appear as fog or mist.
-Can trance you in your sleep! And then suck!

Voon Helsing is very knowledgeable about many a-evil!

Moona! I see her on the road! Like a star coming forth through a clouded night! Oh here she is! Wearing a blue dress, and a lady’s top hat atop the most top of her head. By God how is it staying on? No matter! We shall embrace!

{Later, evening}
Me, Moona, and Voon are in Moona's house. Well wouldn't you know it's my house also! We are settling in after a short talk. Here is how the day has went:

{Earlier, just after Moona's arrival}
When I was done embracing for God knows how long, I introduced Moona to Voon. When we turned I noticed something about Voon. I believe he was aroused by the sight and quality my Moona. He came forth to greet her.

He reached and wrapped surrounding her. "You beeyutiful woman!" he said.

"Thank you." I heard my wife's muffled voice saying from inside the hulking cocoon-like hug.

He released her and turned to me.

"You beeyutiful wife, Charles."

"Yes, she is." I agreed.

Moona walked up to me and we sat down together, side-by-side. Voon sat opposite us.

"Do you have a wife?" I asked Voon.

"Neen, neen! I Rokkenjager." He answered.

"Ah." I replied, not knowing what he said. There was a moment of silence as Voon observed Moona. At last he spoke.

"Brilliant!" he yelled, starting us. "You okee couple!"

Me and Moona glanced at each-other.

"Th.. thank you." Moona said.

"Now to business!" exclaimed Voon. "Kruis round neck! Kruis.. english for kruis...?"

"Pardon me...?" said Moona.

"Oh oh... you not hear?" Voon asked.

"Oh! I think I understand, I'll tell her." I said and turned to my wife. "We need to put a cross around your neck..."

"At your service!" Broke in Voon loudly. "Here." and he came forth, and swiftly placed a necklace with a large silver cross on it around Moona's neck.

Moona nodded politely. "Thank you."

"Ah! Okee." replied Voon.

"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you." I said to Moona. "When me and Voon were talking in the library, a strange man entered. Tall, in all black, with a black hat obscuring his face. A minute later I came to my senses and realized who that man was when I heard his voice! It was the Count..."

"Don't be alarmed!" Screamed Voon. "He not know it wasn’t Charles! He left!"

"Yes." I said, looking at my wife’s worried face. Then she seemed sick. Then upchucked on me. It smelt of moldy mold.

"I go get clean!" said Voon and lifted up, chair still attached to his rear. He hammered his way into the cafe.

"I'm sorry my dear." said my Moona.

I took her face and kissed her, forgetting she had just vomed. "It's alright my dear." I said to her. "I understand, it was a frightening tale."

Voon returned with loads of soaking wet, steaming hot rags in his great hands. But stopped short of us and glanced to his left. "The Count!" He yelled, then dove at what he saw. His immense body slammed against a tall man, that was clearly not the Count. Both men went hurling to the ground with a tremor. Voon lifted up and saw what he had done. "Oh Lord!" he said, breathlessly. "I sorry, I thought someone else!"

Voon helped the tall man up, and the aghast crowd gasped. The tall slender man was.. bent back from the impact!

"Oh dear God!" muttered Voon. "You alright?!"

"Yes, I fear I'm fine. It's happened before it'll happen again." smiled the tall man, and walked off.

Voon came to Moona, and cleaned. "I sorry for delay!" he said. When the upchuck was cleaned, Voon sat back down, chair still attached. He cleared his throat loudly. Then again, louder. "Know I Count! We must garlic hang round house!"

"Yes! lets." I said.

We went to the Town market, purchased rings of garlic, went to our house on the edge of town, and hung the garlic around it. We came inside, bathed, toileted, and sat down with Voon around the fireplace.

"So!" started Voon, "Here stay we tonight. Morrow comes, we see if Count hath gone!"

"Yes." I said. "Perhaps the Count is gone! Perhaps he thought I ran away!" I looked at my Moona and she looked happy.

"Still!" yelled Voon. "We look morrow comes yet!"

"Ok." I said.

"If Count be gone," began Voon, "we meet friends, make team!, and wait for Winter to kill Dracoola!"

"Why Winter?" asked my Moona.

"Winter day short! More time to hunt!" answered Voon.

"But the Count comes out at night." I said.

"Do not question! I know we must do! It best time many a-reason." replied Voon.

"Alright. I'm sure it's best. We need time to plan also." I agreed.

"Yes! Rest, morrow we search!" said Voon, and we went to our rooms.

I will bed now. Goodnight.

{______

May 3,

{Dusk}
By God today went by quite fast. No sign of the Count. We searched as many places and asked as many people as we could. We got some strange stories but nothing to worry about. Thank God.

So, with the help of the good Lord we will, over time, gather our resources, and gather friends, to help us on this undertaking. In a few days, I’ll get Voon to meet the best man I know, and possibly the bravest! Herald Frankoonstein! I know he will help.

Diary of Dr. Herald Fitzgerald Frankoonstein

~May 10~ noon

The days since my last writings I was in a horrible coma. I dreamed and dreamed. The Count was in them. He talked to me. Black words. Dark words. I don't remember them. My head feels like a sack of pain! I almost fear to tell you of that night I last wrote, for it will force me to bring up awful feelings and memories. I warn you, they will be abstract, and maybe inaccurate. Here I try:

As I waddled on aching stalks of legs to the open window I tripped on something, I don't remember what, but I landed on the hard floor with a grunt. I saw the mist, somehow, form into a tall figure of a man. It stayed in this smoky form whilst it hurled my flopping body against walls, and tables, and the ceiling. And my memory is showing me an image of my body landing outside on a dead goose, strange. Soon after my diary somehow fell upon my chest, and I wrote those awful pleading words. I fell into the nightmares then.

Now, as I write, I am in another room than I was in before, and was informed earlier, by dear Whistle, that I am to meet a man named Voon.

Charles described him as a kind, large fellow with a mind of smarts. He also mentioned that his words are hard to make clear on occasion, "So listen carefully".

I am supposedly supposed to learn a great deal of the Count from him and find a means to dispatch of him! When I heal from my multiple body-wounds I hope I will be in-the-fits for it.

---(-)---Here he is.

My.. God!

> Maganificaant of journeey of alle red. Yet eye wander whye you "My... God!" write. It s' okee, tho.

---(-)---

What a lengthened, exhausting chatter we had. I jotted quick notes of it on a piece of scrap whilst I listened, to aid me on the task of transcribing it in this diary:

He slumped in and heavily, slowly squashed his massive rear into a waiting chair which he had presumably brought with him from the lobby. The chair creaked and snapped throughout our talk. He removed a long pipe from a breast pocket, lit it, and inhaled the swirls of blue smoke into his lofty chest. At length, he spoke:

"I'm never guess.. You be minuscuul!" He said with a tone of booming drums.

I pardoned myself and asked him to recite the last word again.

"English of minuscuul?..." He muttered and twitched an eyebrow to listen in on my response. I had none. And told him so.

He cleared his throat and waved his hand in a manner that clearly stated, "forget it".

He tossed his pipe from his brutish hand out the open window, leaned in closer to me, and spoke:

"I hear you stay Dracoola's Kasteel. Hard must have been, under all roof and stone. So high to see up, down. Crowded ways lead to him, not always, hmm?"

I was, in a way, too embarrassed to ask him to repeat himself again. So I only nodded, and grunted. My response was good enough, I guess, because he continued on after a deep loud breath:

"How to come like this?" He was pointing at me as he said it."How... to...?" I stuttered, and was unable to answer. He noticed. repositioned himself, and politely made a gesture which clearly said, "I will repeat myself".

"How you are come to this? Look of hurt."I figured he was asking why am I injured. As I was answering, he interrupted.

"Ah! ah! It okee... stop. Can read dagbook? I need read dagbook. I did Charles's. Must know what took place in the rooms of other odd things. Uh... English of dagbook?

"He was making a gesture that resembled writing. I figured he wanted to read my diary."Ah yes, you may." I answered. "By the way, it is called a diary in English."

He looked confused as I handed him this. "Dank." he said, grabbing it.

He sat there and read the whole thing before my very eyes a page every 5 seconds! His right eye was a ball of blur. I was most fascinated watching him, studying him. His soft-looking hand turn the pages, which looked so tiny in his vast grip. When he was done he took out a pen and scribbled the text you saw above, in the thick print. Then spoke again:

"Any off-normal have experiences when in Hospital?"

Then I remembered the fog and mist, which so oddly sweeps in my room some nights, and told him of it.

"Verven of fog?" He asked, as a male nurse walked in. Tall and slender. Black hair, long, curly, familiar.

The nurse oddly walked into the bathroom after starting as he saw Voon sitting in the chair, and shut the door.

After a silent second, kindly Voon asked again:

"Verven of fog?"

I hadn't any clue of what he was asking. And he could tell.

"English of Verven?" he strained the question.

I didn't know. He could tell.

Then the male nurse in the bathroom grunted angrily: "He wants to know what color the damn fog was!"

A relieved grin passed over Voon's round face as he motioned toward the bathroom door.I answered the question: "I think it was a grey-blue."

"Ah ja! color of Dracoola's!"

"Yes?" the man in the bathroom said. Voon and I looked at each other, puzzled.

"I mean... Yes, I... I..." The nurse spoke, then stopped. Voon understood what I understood. The nurse was, or could be the Count. That explained the odd smell of oils!

Voon somehow managed to lift himself from the chair and creep to the bathroom door, yet he stopped short and turned to me.

"Have kruis?" He asked. "English of kruis?"

"Cross!" The nurse screamed, straining.

"No, I have none." I answered.

Then Voon slung open the door with a massive crash. And put his two index fingers into a fat cross-shape. Dracoola's face turned into a demonic expression of hate and surprise. He instantly poofed into the mist, and floated down the skin drain as Voon swung wildly through the fog.

When the mist was gone Voon clutched at his heaving chest. Sweat beading upon his slick cranium. His red face was a grimace of pain and trauma.

"WATERRRRR!" He whined in a gurgling tone. Then fainted to the floor. Just then Whistle leaped into the room.

~May 12~

Voon Helsing apparently had a mind stroke of sorts, and is now lying in a bed to my left.

My God, he's a snorer. And no sign of that blasted fog so far, thank God.

As I lay here I simply think of my great new doctor, Sooward is his name. He has a fine smile, yet large teeth that frighten me on occasion. On either side of his strong face are long groomed sideburns that stop at plump lips. His hair is shoulder-length and quite straggly. And of course, the unmistakable smell of a doctor floats about him.

Letter from Doctor Sooward to Miss Moona Whistle (received, and opened on July 5)

-- My dearest Moona

I have had a good, healthy doctoring to the fine man named Herald Frankoonstein over the last four months. I have nurtured him back to good health, save for a small limp of his right leg. But that is just fine, and he seems in good spirits about it. Ha! he says it adds to his character. Great man. Good sense of humor. Hardened through a strenuous trial he had undergone in the month of April.

Any-who, my purpose of this message was to ask you if you would mind meeting in the wonderful garden by my house sometime. I am only going to discuss the dream I heard you had last week, and was wandering if you would mind of me bringing Voon Helsing to ask some questions. I believe he is writing a letter to your beloved husband, which you may receive before you receive this letter. Until then...

Cheerio --

Dr.S

Letter from Professor Voon Helsing to Sir Charles Whistle

Hallo there en, Charles MR!.

Diricting my thowts to you! I sure am anticipating a speedy diliver y to letter of.

His, by his, I say: Sooward set letter Moona too!

Hope decide to come, tho you are most welcom. Drean must have been awbad.

Under all condishons come if can? you!

>Vaarwel!

Voon

Clipping from The Town Press, pasted in H. Frankoonstein's Diary

Sunday, July 9

A most frightening thing transpired in a street in Mogham Park early yesterday morning as a many fled from the sight. A young couple were walking about and were suddenly seized by a tall man in all black. And, according to witnesses, were swiftly whisked up to the clouds almost!

Herald F. Frankoonstein's diary (following the clipping)

What a horrifying event. It seems now that the Count is amongst us, feeding of our street-folk!

I wander if he knows where I am.. I wander if you know. I'll tell you.

I was released from the Hospital no more than a week ago and am feeling not half shavvy. I truly regret not writing of my lengthy recovery, but I was in an awful mess and it pained my hand to grasp a pen. It was a wonder I survived I tell you.

As of now I am with Voon and my Doctor in a lodge just outside of Town. We only intend to stay for a night or so.

To my left is a window peering out onto a hill covered in yellow flowers that bend and wave at me when the wind a-blows.

Postcard, Moona and Charles Whistle to Dr. Sooward and Voon Helsing (Picture on front-side of an ornate silver cross, laying on a bed of silk)

Yes we will come to your fine cottage.

See you then

~Moona/Charley W.

Diary of Dr. Sooward

= July 11

They had come at last! It was noon, and our garden was delightful. Yet it was a down-pour.. Voon's sweat I mean. His greasy face was shining with it.

Voon and I were sitting on one of the stone benches in the garden, with Charles and his lovely wife opposite us, on another bench. I started the conversation:

"Many thanks for coming my dearlies. I suppose we should head straight for the point.

Moona looked to be in a good mood to discuss, so I let her speak, while Charles comforted her.

"Well. I was asleep; and having awful dreams of a man in a long black coat who seemed to hover ever closer to my window." She said intently. And I looked at Voon. His look was more focused on the giant bee buzzing round his right foot. His eyes large, and frightened. He began to sweat more, I think, as he saw it coming toward his chest. And suddenly with a mighty swap of his back-hand he sent it to the ground.

"Escuse! Go forward." He grumbled, and lit his pipe. She continued:

"Anyway, he motioned his hand and the window was made open, and soon a great, dark wolf jumped in! It's white teeth bared and shining in the bright moon-light. And for some reason Charles would not awake. I watched, frozen, as the tall man floated in and slew the beast and began drinking its blood! When he had done, he threw it in the closet and went away, back out the window."

"Then?" I asked

"I fainted and awoke the next morning." She ended, and collapsed in Charles's arms, who has crying immensely.

"AH!" Voon screamed, and sent us all jumping, then he gasped:

"Check it! Check closet! It always true to what dream say. It may!" Then he shot off alone toward Moona's house, I presume, yet it was across the town. But as he was running he stopped and turned round, shaking his head.

"Badkamer, badkamer." He was saying, as he passed us and came away into my house.

Diary of Herald F.

~July 11~ Night

After using the bathroom, Voon came to me and asked if I would join him in going to Moona's house to examine a body. I will admit that I was tired of body-work after my happenings with the Count, but out of courtesy, I agreed to help.

After a long, quite pleasant, walk with Sooward, Moona, my dear Charles, and Voon to the house, we walked up to a bedroom and Voon asked Moona where a wolf was put, or something. And I asked of what happened, and Charles explained plainly and quickly.

With a sudden, startling jerk Voon flung the closet open and inside lay the body of a wolf! It's hair was dark grey and matted with dried blood.

"AH! See I say so!" Voon screamed. "Must we, me you Herald, autopsy!"

I followed him slowly down toward a basement whilst he was holding the animal in one mighty grip. When we reached our destination, I watched him clear a table swiftly. Works of clay-art were shattered, and broken. I had heard this was Charles's hobby, poor fellow. I nearly got angry with Voon, yet I eased myself, and carried on.

He slung the body onto the table, and unraveled a long kit of surgical equipment.

"Please, grab what is needing." He whispered, and began shaving the fur off the belly of the wolf. The hair was sent flying all over Voon and into the air. When he had done, I took a small blade of sorts and laid open the skin. By God the blood erupted into Voon's face and hair. He grunted as I came to his aid, yet he waved his hand in defiance.

"Neen, neen! It happens all time!" he mumbled. After searching the bends of the basement for a moment, he came back with a stool and small rolling-chair, which he was sitting on as he came toward me with a smile.

"Here, friend Herald. The chair."

I thanked him, sat down, and we went back to work. Voon also seemed to find a dirty rag, which he was using to remove some of the blood splattered on him.

I made another incision and, thankfully, no more squirted out. Voon dug his hands into the two holes, and started crudely ripping things out of them. Innards were soaring amongst the walls, and floor. Now blood was immensely gushing; yet Voon was undeterred! I only sat back and watched. I may have been in some sort of shock, now that I think of it.

"How bloed much so? I know neen!" He screamed.

After an hour or so he was done. Exhausted, and panting he said: "Okee! This voompire dog!"

---(-)---

We are now returning upstairs where I smell hot tea, and a cookie I think. Moona must be a fine baker!

"I must shower before they see me." I tell Voon. He stops, takes me by my shoulder, and leans down close to my face.

"Do not ashamed!" He says sternly. "You done fine work. Now go eat. Forget of bloed and body.

I refuse, politely, saying that I can't eat while dirty.

He shakes his head. "Okee. Go clean."

---(-)--- near midnight, bedding in Moona and Charles’s sufficient guest-room.

After I showered I came away downstairs to a fine snack of cookies and tea. Voon was still bloody as he told of what happened in the basement.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

August 2,

By God I looked in the mirror today for the first time in months I suppose and my hair, it's damned grey!

I asked Moona how long it's been that way and she said ever since my last visit to the castle.Oh well, it doesn't look half bad on me I do say.

{______

August 7,

This forenoon, after finally cleaning up the awful mess that Voon and Herald made during the autopsy last month, wolf entrails, and my broken art works, I was downstairs working on a wooden sculpture of mine, Moona was at the Town Market, when there came a knock at the door. I rushed upstairs and opened the door to find a hunched man in a straight jacket and frizzy hair. I was somewhat frightened. I feared this man was an escaped trouble-doer. But I ignored the thought.

I greeted him saying: “Hello. Can I help you?”

“With what?” he said.

I thought I had been stumped, but recovered. “Well, with why you are here I suppose.”

“Why am I here?” he said.

“I‘m sorry is this a joke?” I said.

“Am I being funny?” he answered.

“Not at all.” I said, beginning to worry.

“I thought so.” he said. “I am here for you to aid me!”

“Aid you with what?” I said.

“With my problem!” he replied.

“What is your problem?”

“The beast!” he shouted.

“The beast?”

“Damn you to hell, THE BEAST!” he roared.

“Calm down sir.” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes. Sorry I got a little out of hand there.” he calmed himself. “I am chased by the beast.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t know what the beast is.” I pleaded.

“The beast. It’s the thing that’s been chasing me!” he shouted.

“Please sir calm down, what is the beast? Please tell me I may be able to help you.” I said intently.

“It’s the thing chasing me!” he cried.

“Alright sir that’s enough!” I said sternly. “If you don’t leave right this second I’ll…” I was cut off in mid-sentence by the man darting off.

The man started crying aloud. “Alright.” I heard him cry, “I want my doctor!” then he was gone.
I don’t know what the beast is. But I fear it may be the Count. I shall tell Voon of this mad man, and keep a lookout.

Clipping from The Town Press, pasted in Herald F.’s Diary (August 10)

Around five o’clock yesterday evening a wild man in some sort of a straight jacket was running toward West Street, whilst knocking pedestrians aside and yelling strange words. Witness, D. Rosebank, a stately man, claims to have seen the event first hand!
-“I tell you, he was pure mad I say! His hair was all frizzy and untidy. His teeth were a color of urine! … Oh, and after that a very towering folk, wearing all black, leapt after him. Yet the crazy fellow sped on faster. And the chaser grew tired and flew away, I think. … God help us all!”
Other witnesses did not comply to being interviewed.

Diary of Herald F. (Following the clipping)

I will try most hard to keep you informed through the passing months with these intriguing newspaper articles.

At present, I am living in a lodge, with my doctor Sooward.

~September 12~ midnight

What is that?!

I sit here peering out my window as a god-awful bat flutters it’s way round outside. The moon is large and ominous; as if it watches me look at it.

All is very quiet and eerie as I write this by candle-light.

If that blasted bat tries to come forth at me I am ready with my whacking-rod!

---(-)--- an hour later

I am frightened. I now watch a dark figure pass through the hedges out my window, a floor down. Silently.

Thankfully it now is moving away from the lodge. But the bat is moving slowly towards it and it appears the figure notices.

The bat and the figure now run with each other over a distant hill. My oh my, I sweat like a cold glass of water when I’m nervous! Which I could use right about now I tell you! And will get one swiftly.

Diary of Dr. Sooward

=Sep. 15

The case of Roonfield grows more strangely now. At day he is a violent bird, dangerous, with a quick temper. Yet at night he is quiet, calm, and dreary. He has escaped twice in the last month or so, and we always find him running to an old chapel of sorts in the west of Town. I am wandering why he does this, but I may be over thinking it. He is just a madman I presume.

He, as well as other patients of mine, are at the hospital to the north: “Hospital of Town” it is called. Rumors of my family say my grand-pap helped build it, and that it was in my blood to work there. I sometimes believe it, for I am as comfortable as a dog in bed while I am there.

Anyhow, back to Roonfield, He eats the most horrific things: Flies, flees, frogs, and once I even caught him with a cat! Blood was most all over.

Strange stories encircle Town of a tall man in all black terrorizing folk. I know not whether this has anything to do with Roonfield but I hope to find out with my studies on him.

= Oct. 30

Hallows eve - night. I sit now in the hospital with Voon Helsing discussing the odd ways of Roonfield. After over a month of not writing in this diary it is a refreshment to do so.

Voon says: “So, what his doing?”

I answer: “He suffers from many disorders. He eats many strange things.” I name them.

Voon shakes his head, and thinks. “I suspect he do deal with Dracoola for food.”

“Dracoola?!” I ask.

“Ja.” He answers, still shaking his head.

“Explain, please.”

He does: “You see, Dracoola make man mad. Mess him mind up. Very dangerous person encounter.”

I respond nodding. I truly hate to say it, but I find him uninformative.

He speaks again: “I’m say that his mind isn’t okee.”

“I know.” I answer.

He only shakes his head more, and begins to smoke his pipe.

A number of bumps from the floor above! Voon has noticed, and is standing up.
Screams now! It’s Roonfield!

(Later)

As we came into the room we found the poor madman sprawled upon the cold floor. His head was severely opened up, and brains were protruding.

“Now! Now! I make surgery! Help!” Voon screamed.

A moment later he had Roonfield on an operating table.

After long moments, Roonfield suddenly woke, and inhaled so long I thought his lungs would burst. Without hesitation, Voon asked him of the event that just happened, and he told.

“I tried. I tried to stop him..”

“Good, good.” I attempted to comfort him. “Then what?”

“He told me that he has sucked upon people! I felt I didn’t want him to do that anymore, so I attacked him.”

“Then?” I asked, as Voon’s eyes widened some.

“I thought I was winning. I though I was winning! Yet he flung me yonder into the wall, and my head opened. That’s all. I think I am fine to leave now!” And he tried to sit up! Voon swiftly put a shoulder-pinch upon him and sent him fast asleep.

“Don’t ask how know to know that.” Voon said.

The operation quickly ended as Voon patched his head round with bandages, and added: “I sorry, but I accidentally killed him.” As I was too shocked to respond, Voon slowly went away, the small chair stuck unto his hulking posterior.

Letter to Moona Whistle, from Loocy, (Sent on November 25th)

Dear Moona,

Congratulation on getting married! I'm so happy for you. I will be close to Town and would love to come see you, maybe have dinner with you and Charles.

So if so, please tell me. I'm staying at the motel outside of town for a month.- Your best friend, Loocy.

Letter to Loocy, from Moona Whistle, (Sent November 28th)

Hello Loocy! It's so nice to hear from you again.Yes, that would be lovely for you to have dinner with us. We live in the house just on the west side of town.

We will await your arrival.

Sincerely - Moona

Moona Wistle's Diary

Dec/3

My friend Loocy had dinner with us today. And what an adventure it was. I shall tell.

Voon lives here now but we didn't want to frighten Loocy by telling her his purpose. Nor have we told her anything about the Count.

When she arrived it was unexpectedly, and late at night. Voon was in the kitchen. I motioned to him to hide and he did so quickly, but not so subtly. He ran across the kitchen and into the small pantry.

Charles, knowing Loocy would ask about his hair color, quickly solved the problem by swiftly covering his hair in molasses. Making it seem as if it was his natural brown.

Loocy entered and Charles and I greeted her. Charles began to make dinner as Loocy and I sat down to talk.

But Loocy looked up at Charles and exclaimed: "Why Charles! your hair! It's so shiny!"

"Yes it is!" he said not turning around.

Loocy looked at me confused, but I just smiled.

"Well." started Loocy, "How has everything been going with you two?"

"Absolutely great." I answered. "We are so happy." Charles nodded.

"Well great!" she smiled. Silence followed.

It was broken by a tremendous flatulent coming seemingly from the small pantry. Loocy started and looked about. "Was that you?" she asked Charles.

"Yes!" Charles laughed, never taking his eyes off the carrots he was dicing.

"Well, what are we having for dinner Charles?" Loocy asked.

"Oh! Um! Peas and carrots!" he answered loudly.

We ate and Loocy asked if she could stay for a while. She hated the motel she was staying at. Not being rude people, we said yes.

Dec/7

It is Winter cold outside.

Loocy has not been feeling a great deal good recently. She has strange marks on her neck. I do hope she’s alright.

Voon has been hiding in the pantry for the past four days. So he can’t examine her to see what’s the matter. He is survived off caned beans and wine. At-least that’s what he tells us when we check on him. He also says as long as Loocy is hear, he will stay there. I don’t know where he toilets but I do say I smell it when I go by the kitchen. Whew.

Loocy has mentioned she’ll stay for a couple of more days. But I hope she leaves sooner. She’s quite a loud-mouth if you know what I’m saying.

Until next time, ta-ta.

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decimbor Seventh I beeleeve,
Oh dagboek! I lost yu in thy belly-fold and now found!

I in pantree. I am survive of beens and wyne. I toilet in empty bottles and place up! I alright! Ja Ja it stink. But I deal! A few day madam Moona tell me til Loocy leave us. I shall stay here then! I hath strength to!

Decimbor Eight,

Alas I hear scream! I abandon my hide! If Charles or Moona in trouble, I see! God give me strength!

Moona Whistle’s Diary

Dec/8

Oh no! Lord help us.

This morning, Loocy was banging around in her bedroom. It awoke me and Charles so we investigated. We slung open her bedroom door and lay aghast at the happening before us. What frightened us most was not the sight, but the knowledge of why it was.

Loocy was a voompire! And the cause must have been the Count! We had not protected her room with garlic or anything of the sort.

Loocy was on the ceiling flopping about. Apparently trying to fly I thought. I don’t think she knew or cared we were there, she just kept trying to soar into the sky, but only ceiling she hit! My Charles fainted just as Voon came crashing up the stairs out of breath, drenched in sweat, and beans, and other bodily fluids I don’t care to describe. As he saw the situation he ran - well, jogged - to his bedroom, and emerged seconds later with an assortment of evil-fighting tools strapped to him.

He entered the room, yelled in fury, and started flinging everything he had at the thing on the ceiling. Holy water, steaks, crosses, crackers, silver coins, bibles, babies, bunnies! Loocy crashed to the floor silent, dead… again… I suppose.

Whilst she lay there Voon took deep breaths for a minute, or ten, then lunged on her, grabbed a steak, and went at it. Pounding and Thrusting and stabbing and jabbing! Blood, oh Lord the blood! Five minutes, ten minutes, still going until there was nothing left but a figure of blood and guts.

Voon stopped and looked up, his face and body no less bloody that that beneath. “Water!” he yelled and fainted. Charles awoke.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 10,

It is as I have feared. The Count has found us. He knows we live here but we shall not leave. This house is too well protected. The Count found and turned Loocy into a voompire. Voon killed her and we stored the body in the icebox.

{Later, just after midnight}
It’s quite chill in this house. I think I’ll light the fireplace.

The damned thing won’t alight! The match that is. Why not?! I shall keep trying.

Moona whistle’s Diary

Dec/10

It’s just past midnight and Winter cold. I was just awoke by the chill and am feeling odd. I looked out the window a few moments ago and saw a strange mist slowly creeping it’s way toward the house.

Ah, wait! We forgot to hang the protecting things up after doing the house cleanup today! The mist is coming in through the door!

Charles is not in bed! Where is he? The mist is forming into a pillar! RED EYES! OH NO!!!!!!!

Charles Whistles Journal

{Still trying to light the match}
At last! The match alit! I knew it would… Moona! I heard her moan! I shall run up to her!

{Later}
Oh good heavens why?!!!! After I lit the match and wrote of the moan I ran up to our bedroom door. I tried to open it but it was locked! In fear I ran screaming to Voon. He jumped out of bed, grabbed his evil-fighting tools and we came to the door.

“Three we in!” Voon yelled.

“What?” said I.

“Three bust we in!” he answered.

“Alright.” I replied and we readied.

Voon started the countdown. “One!…..Two…..Three!” We hammered our shoulders against the door and burst in. Voon tumbled on the floor and recovered. What we saw was horrible!

By God Dracoola was standing tall in black pressing my Moona’s face to his bloody torso! She was drinking from a huge pulsing blue vein that ran diagonally across the Count’s massively hairy chest! His hair was long, curly and dark. His mustache, fully grown! He saw us and released My Moona. Voon jolted forward with a holy cracker held aloft! The Count screamed and lunged - soared is more like it - out the window, turned to mist, and was gone!

I ran to my Moona but fainted half way there.

{______

Dec 11,

By God I have been voming for the past few days from the grief. My Moona! She is unclean! God have pity!

This cannot stand! This will not stand! Me and Voon have decided now is the time! We will hunt and rid the world of Dracoola! It is the only way to cure my Moona.

I will write to my friend Herald, and tell him it is time! God speed!

Letter to Herald F. Frankoonstein. From Charles H. Whistle, (Sent on Dec 11th)

It is time Herald my dear friend! You and I have endured much together my friend! And I would be honored to endure again! We must reunite now. And find and kill The Count! Voon has agreed.

I shall tell you what has happened as of late quickly. Dracoola has found us. He turned Moona’s friend Loocy into a voompire. Voon killed her but the next night Dracoola came again and made my Moona drink his blood whilst I was trying to light a match! She is unclean but in good spirits!

Please do come Herald. By God I thank God for you!

Your friend - Charles.

PS. Tell Sooward to help too. Thanks.

Letter, Herald to Charles, (December 12)

Yes, I will go through Hell and high-water with you my enduring friend!

Moona Whistle’s Diary

Dec/13

It is a Winter cold outside.

Dear Herald and Sooward have just arrived to stay with us and help Charles and Voon on this upcoming undertaking. We have hanged the protecting things around the house.

I am in good spirits.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 13,

By God this morning there were eight letters in our mail box! They are all but one from the Count. And the Count’s were all sent on the same day. Yesterday. Four to me, one to my Moona, two to Herald, and one to Voon. I gave them each there letters accordingly, and will write mine below:

The first from Castle Dracoola, addressed to me:

“Old Friend Charles,-
Charley, Charley. Oh Charley you can’t hide from me forever in that little house. Come, let me in again. I’ll be nicer. I won’t bite… much.

-D”

{Following the entry}
By God he‘s so charismatic I almost fall for it.

The second from Castle Dracoola, addressed to me:

“Friend Charles, -
Damnit. You stupid boy. Let me in, and you and your wife will be swept away! Up to my castle! And then, well… you‘ll just have you find out.”

-D”

{Following the entry}
I shall not fall for his trickery!

The third letter from Castle Dracoola, addressed to me:

“Charles my friend,-
It is I, D. I’ll make my scrambled eggs for you Charles!”

{Following the entry}
Oh by God that does sound quite enticing! But I shall resist.

Fourth was from the Town Modeling and Sculpture Art Studio, addressed to me, (Sent on December 12th):

“Dear Sir Charles H. Whistle,
It is our profound pleasure to announce we have decided to include your wonderful wood sculpture of the “Wild Mongoose” in our gallery! We would be honored if you would come and show off your work with visitors and others.

It will be on display starting Jan/2nd, ending Jan/3rd, from 1:00 pm to 1:30 pm closing time.

Sincerely - President of the Town Modeling and Sculpture Art Studio, Rona Winker Riffelroffer”

{Following the entry}
By God I’m thrilled!

Moona Whistle’s Diary

Dec/13

My husband Charles gave me this letter this morning. It’s from the Count. Here is what it says:

“My new friend Moona,-
Ah Moona! Moona Whistle you taste so good! Let me taste you all over. I know you can’t resist. I’ll show you my hairy butt-crease!”

-D”

Oh God, I’m going to vom!

Oh what a mess. Nevertheless, I shall stay in good spirits.

Diary of Herald

~December 13~

A letter given to me by Charles, from “Castle Dracoola” to “Herald F. F.”:

“My dear friend Herald,-
I have many-a fine body for you to do great a-many experiments upon!

I’ve got…
Wolves
Deer
Rabbits
Trolls
Mice
Rats
Gerbils
Parrots
Carrots
Ferrets
And 17 women.

Please do remember of my power to lightning them to life with my fingertip!

-D”

His offering is but foolish and useless! I am far ever past the urge to do dealings with the dead again. I only feel to make dead the demon whom sent this message to me.

Another letter addressed to me:

*Blank*

I believe it not! I shall urinate upon the paper to possibly reveal a hidden message! My incident of spilling the tea many months ago on the train to the castle has taught me that there may be a possibility…

It worked! I can barley read of what is written but I suppose it says this:

“Inside the mind, black wheels will grind!

-D”

I remember this phrase! It came from the mist at the hospital last April!
I shall ask Voon sometime of what the inscription may mean.

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decombor thirteen,
I receev letar Kasteel Dracoola from! Heer wat a rad! Balow:

"Friend Abroohoom Voon Helsing,-
You so much as threaten me with your elephantine presences again and I’ll suck you dry!

Yet on the contrary, I have so many a-fine culinary delights to fill your appetite if you would but join me, for at least a day, at my castle.
Up to you!

-D"

I neen hungry for voompire food!

Diary of Dr. Sooward

= Dec. 13

I arrived at Moona and Charles’s house with Herald in the morning. It was a morning of light snow, and heavy fog. We were courteously greeted into their warm home. Once in we all came away upstairs to discuss the plans of attack upon Dracoola’s castle. The room had a circle of four chairs round a fifth. Voon sat in it and the rest of us seated in the rounds. Voon started the lengthy discussion, and we listened closely.

Here is the talk we had as best as my memory can conjure it up…

“Okee.” Voon started. “First off we all need know to kill him, Dracoola! I tell it. Anything wooden work best. Plunge the it into that cold heart!" He finished as he proudly swung his fists into an imaginary Count; fangs and all I presume. Charles was applauding.

“What things can hurt him most if we encounter a brawl before a fatal blow?” Asked I.

“Ha! Very okee question! Very okee.” A small pause, and an intake of breath later he answered.

“Holy water, cracker, stake, kruis, garlic, silver coin, bible, baby, bunny, etcetera, etcetera.”

Charles was applauding again, yet Moona bumped him with her right elbow. He quickly stopped.

“How shall we make our way to the castle?” Asked Herald.

“Separate into two group. I alone. Charles, Herald, and Sooward into another.”

“No, I will go too!” Moona shot up. “Right by my Charley, into the heart of our enemies territory!” Her husband stood up and hugged her, crying some. Which, in turn, sent Moona crying, and then Voon. Leaving only Herald and I dry-eyed. I’m sorry to say, but it was just not that emotional. Yet it sent Voon crying even harder. And he stood up (chair on his rear) and embraced the couple in a monstrous hug.

After the shedding of tears passed, and the three returned to their seats Voon spoke once more:

“I sorry. Moona will come to me to kasteel.”

“I object!” Charles started, and stood up quickly. “She will come beside me!”

Voon’s red face became even more the color. He started arising slowly. Anger was clearly seen building up inside him like a teapot! Poor Charles noticed this and swiftly sat back down. “Never mind,” said he.

Voon returned to his calmer self. “I protect she better than you is why. Neen offence.” He retrieved his pipe. “Any more question?”

Herald answered: “Ah yes! I found a hidden inscription on one of the letters the Count sent to me. It says the same thing that that ghostly fog of sorts that creeped into my hospital window said… ‘Inside the mind, black wheels will grind!’ What does this mean?”

Voon took a long puff of the pipe whilst eye-balling Herald in deep thought. “I know not.” Said he, finally, softly.

“Oh” Said Herald, despaired looking.

“Back to plan!” Said Voon. “We all may meet many evil! Be ready yet not fear. For all of us God in and will never not in. Not even Count him alone take way of what heart hath in, and all in soul and spirit what keep unto all time! Just take around neck a kruis.” And with that he took from a table in the corner 4 crosses, silver, beautiful, lavish, and placed them round our necks. We all at once felt safe from harm of evil!

“What about you?” Asked Moona.

“I have.” Voon answered and protruded a giant ornate golden cross that looked many many years old and used. “I have since I little baby. My mother tell of me that doctor put round neck when born, for I was ugly they said. Yet I hope it helped me grow to handsome man. But lady opinion I need to know for sure.” He ended and turned to Moona for response, smiling some.

“Uh.. I will go make us some dinner!” Said she, and quickly left downstairs to start.

I, Herald, Charles, and Voon waited anxiously for a while. Voon was salivating immensely as the smell of cookings floated its way upon us.

“It’s ready.” She called, and to our surprise, Voon was the first one down!

We fell at once upon potato soup, potato salad, baked sweet potatoes, biscuits, rolls, bagels, buns, croissants, crumpets, English muffins, and turkey-loaf. It was most exquisite!

After we had feasted, Voon held up some type of box for us all to see.

“I not know what these are come from!” He said. And I studied them. Upon the front, was written in an odd text “Ritz”.

“These be holy crackers! Moona. Oh, my God-blessed Moona! Come here me!”

Moona came to him, and he told her to kneel in front of him. She did so.

“In the name of holy one…” He said, as he placed the cracker upon her forehead. The cracker exploded as she screamed and was flung back as smoke puffed all about! Charles ran to her, yet fainted half way there. Voon, coughing on the smoke, was, I believe, asking what happened while Herald and I went to Moona in a fright. She was shaken, but apparently in good spirits and was quickly up cleaning up the supper table. A bright red circular mark shown forth where the cracker was placed.

It took nearly five hours for poor Charles to wake, and he immediately darted to his wife, crying profusely.

Herald F.’s Diary

~December 14~

Voon says we must give a funeral for dear Loocy; who died, I hear, quite appallingly. He has given me word to write a letter to her husband-to-be, Arthuoor. I fear it will greatly dismay him. We are to have the small gathering tonight at 9:00, Voon says. At present, it is around noon. Charles and Sooward now prepare the body as best they can, after retrieving it from the ice-box, are placing it in an ornate casket which Charles has so expertly made out of clay and wood for the past 2 days.

I will now write the letter and then rewrite it here for you all to read…

“ -Dearest Arthuoor

This is Dr. Herald Fitzgerald Frankoonstein; a good friend of Charles and Moona Whistle. It greaves me greatly to inform you this, and I know not of an easy way to do it.
Your beloved wife are killed.
Please meet at the Whistle house tonight at 9:00.

- Signing off,
H.F.”

I do hope I said it well enough.

I was just informed that Voon Helsing decorated the entire room that the body is in, and that he wants me to critique it. I suppose I will…

---(-)---

As I came away upstairs I smelled wild flowers, and perfumes. Wondrous and calming. I neared the room, and peered in. The rooms walls were covered in red, silk curtains. The ceiling was hung with the same. The windows were hidden behind the curtains so that the only light within came from burning, red candles which were set about on various tables, covered in red cloth. Covering every inch of everywhere else lay scarlet flowers.

The body lay in the center. They have apparently put Moona’s wedding dress on her for looks, I suppose it helped. But the face was covered in dried blood and other incongruous substances. Yet she somehow looked a-peace.
God rest her.

---(-)---

Poor Arthuoor has arrived, and is now knocking on the door. Voon is going to open it. In he walks. Charles looks upon him with shock in his eyes.

Arthuoor is sad and bent… My God he’s bent. His hair is brown, yet with silver streaks. Heavy bags crease under his tired eyes. Thin and so slow he is.

“I know” He says. “I know I appear old and worn. Yet I am but 26! The news of Loocy… aged me it seems.” He ended with a failed smile.

“Matters not!” Voon yells. “Herald, take him forth her!”

---(-)--- in bed

I did.

We creeped up the stairs. His head low and somber. His tattered hands grasping my arms for support. So hunched that he was at my level.

Alas, we reached the room, and he began to inch toward her. Yet he balked away, and came to me sobbing greatly. I held my arms to him. But by God he croaked on the spot. Poor bastard.
I came away downstairs and informed Voon and the others of the happening, and it grieved them greatly.

After a moment of prayers, they disposed of the bodies down the kitchen sink.

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 18,

{Morning}
Voon has told us to ready ourselves and get equipped. We are to head for the castle at noon. We have agreed that Moona will fight along side us. What a brave soul!

Voon has made the plan of attack, and the plan of attack is this: We will separate into two groups! Me, Herald, and Sooward in one group, and Voon and Moona in the other. My group will go through the great forest to the castle. Voon and Moona will go up the road! God knows why! At first I was reluctant to this plan, but Voon insisted. We will try to reach the castle at sunset on the seventh day at the same time and reunite. Then, shout for battle!

{Noon}
We are ready, and off!

{Heading through Town}
It is quite cold by God! But the town's beautiful Christmas decorations put my heart at ease some.

{Heading toward the castle road}
We see the road in the distance, and are heading for it.

{A bit later}
We are here. The beginning of the road. Oh God by God the memories! I am shivering. It is snowing hard!

“Time come has us to split!” Yelled Voon proudly over the roar of the onslaught of snow. “Remember what I have tell you! All of you! And neen fire!” he added.

We have split up now. We said our goodbyes and prayers. For the woods we go!

{Hours Later}
We are froze, but still tread!

I think we will rest for a while under the trees. I hope to God that Moona and Voon are alright.

“Can we make a fire?” Herald has said.

“I think not. Voon said It might give us away.” I answer.

I am hungry though.

“We can eat some nuts.” I say.

“Alright.” Herald replies.

“Good!” said Sooward.

By God these nuts are frozen hard! I fear my teeth are going to break. But we shall make dew! … or.. I mean.. make do!

{______

Dec 19,

{Morning}
A day has past us now. Last night wasn’t that bad. But I feel things getting odder by the mile. The snow has slacked off. It is most hard to toilet in this weather.

{Later}
On we tread. We are trying to stay as quiet as possible but we have struck up a few interesting conversations!

{Night}
We have lay to bed now and are hearing strange noises. Strange but familiar to me. I will Sleep.

{______

Dec 20,

{Morning}
I can’t stop thinking of Moona! How afraid she must be! But I trust in Voon to keep her safe! He is a very learned man.

{______

Dec 22,
Two more days of treading on! The toilet sessions harder and harder.

{______

Dec 23,

By God I’m frightened! Whilst we treaded through this old forest we saw many-a-thing! Blurs of running figures! Screams no more than a hundred feet beside us! And as me and Herald endured, we were shocked to find Sooward not with us! God knows what happened. It is a terrible and frightening loss! We try to stay brave but I fear I am becoming a burden to Herald. For just about every time I get a fright I faint or come close to it. And herald has to guard my unconscious body. But I must not let myself faint again! I ask God for the strength for the upcoming battle!

I have to toilet.

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decombor twentiithree,
Late is it. Dark. Me and Madam Moona ar walk on! She stronge as a furied horrse!

Lord! Whirl sneeuw round us now! Winter screem! Obese figures form in sneeuw! Wemon! I arouse but suppress it! They eviil wifves Dracoola! Must be! I bless round me and Moona! We waite fa dawn light! I hold them off! I must hipnotize Moona so won’t she go to wemon! I trance her bigen! I Wave hands my over her head many time. She out-sleep!

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 24,

It has became a nightmare! But me and Herald are holding on! We have not had any attack made on us yet. Thank God. We heard strange noises coming seemingly from the road last night. I hope to God Moona isn’t in any trouble, but I fear the opposite. Just at sunrise this morning me and Herald saw three figures dart up into the sky. To much they reminded me of the three women I encountered on both my visits to this awful place. But nevertheless I, and Herald must ready ourselves for whatever may come upon us during this journey.

{Later, dusk}
By God we are one day away from the battle. And I feel I am ready! And Herald tells me he is also. God hath given us strength! I hope the loss of dear Sooward will not weaken us to badly. But you know what? I’m not going to think that way. God speed!

Voon Helsing’s Notebook

Decombor twentiifouure,
Dawn came morning this! Wemon fled and we made off! Though fear I they tell Count of us! But that matter neen! God on our side!

Charles Whistle’s Journal

Dec 25,

{Morning}
This day has come at last! And it is snowing fairly well. I feel we are close to the castle! Herald and I both recognize certain things that tell us we are near it.

{Later, perhaps noon}
By God it’s quite exhilaratingly frightening! The presence of the place that is! The sky turns greyer the closer we get! And snowier! Howls! Howls of thousands of wolves in the distance! Toward the castle I presume. Screams of ogres maybe I here! Werewolves maybe!

God help us we have made it! Oh I am so terribly afraid. But with brave, strong Herald and his whacking rod here, I feel less fearful.

There the castle stands tall and grey in front of us! Oh dear Lord it’s so…. Well.. it’s standing tall and grey in front of us! And outside the castle, in the courtyard are hundreds of those old chairs!
Where is my Moona?! We shall wait for her and Voon to come, and stay quiet in the bushes.

{Some time later, near dusk}
There they are! We will greet!

I have embraced my Moona and told Voon of Sooward. He was saddened but undeterred. Then he told us of the women and that they might have told the Count we were coming. But it matters not now. We will fight still! And by God now is the time!

Incase I don’t write again, God speed!

We, together, went up in front of the castle, and stood in the road that led to the great door. We looked at each other, and knew it was time.

“DRACOOLA!” Yelled Voon Helsing so tremendously loud I toileted myself greatly.

As I pardoned myself and scooped the toilet matter out of my pants, there was a great noise of squeaking bolts, and unlocking locks coming from the great door. Slowly it opened, and behind it in the gloom stood the tall, dark figure of the Count. And he spoke, he spoke with a voice so horribly calm, loud and echoing, we stopped up our ears and ashuddered.

“Hello.” he said. “So you have decided to come?”

All ashuddered but one! Voon Helsing. And with a great voice he said in return: “Come we you end!”

Silence.

At last the Count spoke. “What?”

“COME WE YOU END!” screamed Voon with that great voice again. And again made me toilet a little.

Silence for quite sometime. The Count standing motionless in the dark doorway. “I’m sorry what in God’s name are you saying?” he said at last.

Voon grew in anger! “AAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” he screamed, “DIE!!!!!!” And with that he thundered toward the Count! Stake, and Ritz held aloft!

“Oh.“ said the Count. Then, suddenly, his eyes burst to a huge leaping flame! His Brows, a hot bar of.. well you know! He stepped down from the doorway, stood in front of us, ripped his shirt open, and shown forth his tremendously hairy chest! And with one flash of a swoop, cut open the huge pulsating blue vein that ran across his front, and the blood gushed forth out of it. Spraying and spraying out! Dracoola moaned loudly and longly, and seemed to be in a bliss of sorts, having orgasmic grunts and jerks of sorts. The blood rained down upon us like a summer storm! Oh so much blood, until we were soaked and covered in red! It smelt of bloody, oily cheese! But Voon thundered slowly, but surly on!

The blood flow stopped suddenly as if it had never happened, and the Count flew from where he stood, toward the charging Voon! The collision tremendous! With a great flatulent coming from Voon! Then charged Herald! Then me and my Moona! We met in the midst of battle and pounded on the Count. Voon smashed a bottle of holy water on Dracoola’s face and he screamed in anger. And with one mighty fling, he flung Voon through the air! Herald whacked the Count across the face with his whacking rod and sent him hurling back!

Dracoola turned, his face smoking from the holy water and cut from the whack rod, and with hell-fury in him motioned his arms forward! And out from around the castle came hordes of many-a-evil!

Werewolves, ogres, wolves, goblins, monsters, boogiemen, bats, rats, mice, zombies, cats, worms, mummies, spiders, beasts, brutes, freaks, geeks, monstrosities, behemoths, and leading them all Herald’s monster!

Voon got back on his feet and rejoined us. “Fight we, be no afraid!” he said, and we all charged the evils!

We fought for so long but all felt the strength of the holy ghost in us, and powering us!

We stabbed the werewolves and cut the ogres and shot the wolves and slew the goblins and crushed the monsters and beat the boogiemen and broke the bats and ripped the rats and kicked the mice and obliterated the zombies and killed the cats and stomped the worms and unraveled the mummies and squashed the spiders and slaughtered the beasts and pounded the brutes and destroyed the freaks and scared the geeks and executed the monstrosities and blew away the behemoths! And at last most of our evil-fighting tools were spent. But Herald confronted his monster.

It started with a few well placed whacks with his sturdy rod! I do say it dizzied him some. Yet he came again! Herald stepped aside and whacked his left thigh! It sent his leg a-limp and gave him time for a shot at his face! He quickly stabbed it’s bulging, glowing left eye out, causing it to yell loudly. Herald then swiftly spun-kicked it’s veiny throat, and proceeded that with a few more well-placed whacks to the back of it’s massive head, and at last it fell to it‘s death!

At that the Count stood infuriated! The Flames from his eyes reaching twenty feet at-least up into the air! He screamed terribly and motioned his arms again! And down from the snowy Winter sky came the three obese wives! Horn-rimmed glasses and all!

Forward stepped Voon in front of there path! They slammed him but he did not budge! Instead the three wives came to a dead crash and rolled on the ground. They got up, shook it off, and came at him! Screaming and laughing they fought him. Thrashing and clawing about! But Voon stood his ground and one by one, put a stake through their hearts, and they disintegrated into dirt that smelled of dust! And when he was done he looked at us, then at the Count.

“DIE HIM!!!!” he yelled, and we came at the Count!

“Fools!” screamed the Count! And as we reached him! The Count grabbed up my Moona and flung her down, breaking both her legs horribly! Then grabbed up the fighting Voon, held him aloft, placed his mouth around his, and with a tremendous inhale of breath that was ear shattering, sucked the air out of Voon until he was a shriveled boney figure of the former self! He released him letting his trembling, jerking, quaking, body fall to the ground. Oh Voon, God speed! The Count then turned to dear Herald and made a grab for him! But Herald whacked the groping hand away with his whack rod and whacked the Counts face again and again until the Count fell on his rear!

Enraged, the Count shot up and smote Herald across the body, sending him flying through the air and crashing into a stone courtyard wall! But before the Count turned to me I was so in a fury I grabbed one of the chairs beside me, ran toward the Count holding out the thing, and by God I ran all four chair legs through him! One hitting the heart! As the Count gasped I kept pushing and pushing him back until I ran his back into a wall making the chair legs go deeper into the horrible thing called Dracoola!

And with a long exhale of breath, and a flatulent, Count Dracoola turned to dust, and passed from this world.

I released the chair and came to my Moona. She was hurt but alive. We embraced, and after I came to Herald and was blessed to find him alive. A little shaken, a twisted right leg, and a huge bump on the back of his head, but fine.

We made it. I had to carry my wife and Herald back for five days, but Moona was cured and in good spirits. And Herald wasn’t that heavy. But by God my back may not be right for months. Oh well.

{Night}
I write this now in bed in our home. And have told you of that last act. A doctor is taking care of My Moona and Herald. And all is aright.

God bless Sooward and Voon who lay so costly a sacrifice to rid the world of that evil. And thanks to their sacrifice, it has been. We, have succeeded.

Herald will live with us here, with me and Moona, and I still thank God for him. What a brave and wonderful soul. We will get back to our normal lives. And I suppose me and Moona might have children one day. And that when they grow old, we may tell them of this story. And of our journey.

So now that all is said and done, I must rest. And later make mad love to my Moona.

Goodnight, and Merry Christmas.

---------------------



- Joey and Stefan

The Locked

The newlyweds spent the first time in their new home. It was quite cosy, but still felt foreign.
The wife Jessy was in the living room looking through an old box of books she found in the basement. Most were dusty and worn. She had to blow the covers off before she could read them. The fifth book she picked up was a maroon colored dairy. On the front cover was written "Jerald P." it was the last owner of the house.
She opened it, and flipped the pages. There was only one entry, it was at the beginning.
She read it aloud to her husband Ron, who was repositioning chairs in the dining room behind her.

__________________

February first, 1995.
It's been about five months now; since I last saw them that is. It's really hard to write this down, for it brings back such an awful feeling. It's like it was a dream. I still question whether it really was or not. But they still bump from time to time just to remind me I was awake.
It was September. It was hard to sleep as I was laying in my bed. The damn place was just too eerie feeling. I thought I heard things in the kitchen. Tapping and stuff. I got up the guts after an hour or so and went out of my room, and started down the hall. The kitchen was just around the right corner. The noises had stopped just as I opened my bedroom door. I flipped on the hall light, and went around not really expecting to see anything. But I did. These three things. I don't even know how to tell you what they looked like. I think they were kind of glowing, or something. Blue maybe. But I do remember what they did. As I was standing there in shock they just scooted down the hallway, and into the basement. God knows why I followed them, but I did. I found them in a wardrobe, I ran over and shut and locked them in.
I never told anyone this, so if you're reading it, just don't open the doors. Keep them locked in there, please.

___________________

Jessy and Ron never did open that wardrobe. And they did hear the bumps.

- Joey

Revisit

{This is a sequel to Dracoola}

April 19

By God! I am utterly surprised and somewhat delighted. I have received a letter from an anonymous horseman with long flowing black hair not thirty minutes ago. It was addressed to me so I opened it. And here is what it says:

"Dear Charles H. Whistle. It is I, D. I am most sorry for the inconveniences of our earlier meeting. I was very sickly and not behaving as my usual self. Therefor I would love for you to revisit me in my castle. I trust you remember the way. -D

PS. I almost forgot, I would like you to meet someone on the road to my castle. He will be on a train tomorrow. He is also visiting me for the second time. Catch the train and please do befriend him. His name is Herald F. Frankoonstein. A rather short fellow, the only one on the train, I'll make sure of that.

PPS. Oh, and do come on the 25th of this month, thank you."

{______

April 20

I'll recap the last twelve hours.

I awoke to a start. I had a dream last night. That a huge beastly fellow stood over my bed. Horrible looking, sown together I presume. Greenish skin and a fat mans head. He stood there groaning and snorting. And shot off. That's when I awoke.

I got out of bed, toileted, gathered my trappings and made for the long road to the castle. On foot I might add. By God I walked along the train tracks which I had not noticed were right beside the road the previous journey. Maybe they were newly added. I fainted when I heard a howl in the distance.

I awoke on the tracks to the sound of an engine. It was the train! It stopped before running me over, thank the Lord. I got up and walked around to the side door. There a small fellow let me in. Then it came to my attention this kind man was none other than Herald Frankoonstein. I befriended him and told him my name and business there.

I turned and walked out to get my trappings left on the tracks unaware that the train had started moving again. By God did I take a tumble.

I fainted and awoke to a start. I was on a horse, behind a man with long flowing black hair, that smelt like.... like... by God it smelt like OIL! It must have been the driver of my previous journey!

He informed me that we could not catch up to the train, but he would take me to the castle himself. I said thank you and nice to meet you again. He turned his head around and looked at me, to see who I was I'm sure. He grinned wide and said: "Yes, yes, nice to meet you again." By God his eyes were red.

I write this now still on the horse, by candle-light. It is quite jolting. I'm tired, I think I'll sleep.

{______

April 23

Two days ride. On horseback mind you. Faster than last time, but just as terrifying. Wolves again, and ogres I thought. Many times we caught up to the train, but never to the side door. And I thought I heard that small chaps voice. By God. I would awake beside the train, the driver gone, just me and the horse at full speed, then awake later to the driver in front of me again. Covered in blood I thought. Very odd by God.

Something just hit me in the face horribly hard. Something small and shiny I thought. By God I screamed. It put quite a knot on my left cheek I presume.

{______

April 24

This morning was rather pleasant. Birds sang in their nests. The sunlight danced on the leaves and blossoming flowers. We arrived at the castle no more than thirty minutes ago. In-fact no more than ten minutes after the train. That horse was quite amazing, a huge beast of a horse.

Since I am to arrive on the twenty fifth, not today, I will camp in the bushes outside the castle, until tomorrow. I am hungry, and thirsty. If only I had my trappings. Oh well.

{______

April 25

By God, By God, By God! It must be past midnight. I'm in the bushes on the edge of the forest, writing this by candle-light. I hear noises! Grunts! Howls! Snaps! Distant screams! By God I'm frightened. I'm toileting myself!

{Still April 25}

I'm aright. I'm in the castle. I'll tell you what happened.

After finishing my entry earlier I fainted. I awoke later to a start. It was still dark, very. And it was raining, I was soaked. That blasted thing was above me again! Moaning and snorting! It was not a dream. Then that must mean it was not a dream before! By God that thing had been following me! I toileted myself and it shot off!

I lay there trembling and on the verge of fainting, in-fact i did.

I awoke to morning. Grey and cold. Still raining. A letter on my chest, soaked. Here is what it read:

Come in. EAT! -D

So I got up and walked to the great door. It was open oddly enough. I walked in and the smell instantly was remembered. The smell of a toilet. There stood the Count. In a doorway at the entrance to a hall. A way that was closed on my previous stay.

"Ah, hello again!" I said smiling.

"Yes, yes, hello, dear Charles." he answered with an odd grin. "It is so nice to see you again. I'm so glad you came!"

He was wearing the same clothes as before, except no cape, but a black hat. He looked the same as before but this time he had a long grey beard.

I complemented him on the hat, but got no reply.

"Follow!" he said quite loudly, so I obeyed.

We went down the rather small hall. The front door slammed shut behind, then the hall door, the one we had just walked through. I started. We traveled to the very end and went through the left door.

There before my eyes was a great living hall. Two fireplaces burning, three great sofas, tapestries of medieval battles on the walls. And many cases of books. Brilliant!

He led me to the end of this fine room, and through an archway on the left. There was a rather small room and a bed against the opposite wall.

"Your room, sir." Smiled the count. "Toilet and join me in the living hall, just outside your room, of-course."

"Of-course." I said.

I looked around the room, and back toward where the count was standing to ask him something, and he was gone. A quiet walker I presume.

I found a toilet bowl in the corner with some newspapers beside it, and made a hasty one.

After I wiped, I walked back out into the living hall. There, in front of the closest sofa, was a table adorned with freshly prepared food. On the sofa sat the Count.

"Eat." he said gently. He did not.

As I sat on the sofa beside the Count, I studied the fine meal I was about to indulge upon. Scrambled eggs, bacon, a warm freshly baked loaf of bread, boiled eggs, bananas, some sort of pudding for dessert, and a pitcher of water with no glass to pour it into. I ate and the count watched the fireplace. The food was excellent; I said so and he smiled, his eyes never leaving the fire.

When I was done, I said so. He turned away from the fireplace and looked at me.

"lets talk then." he said. So I did.

"Ok. ah yes, there was a question a meant to ask you earlier. If you don't mind me asking, where is that small fellow I met? Frankoonstein."

"Ah yes, he is in his room asleep." The Count answered, then was silent.

"Will I see him again?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

"I should hope so." He replied. "Sometime I sure."

I nodded and smiled. "Ok. Why is he here?" I said.

"To help me with something." He answered, and coughed a great cough. It rattled my heart I thought.

"Excuse me" He said. "I'll see you tomorrow. But please, stay here and read until dark. Then bed. I have business with Herald." He got up, and left.

I sit now in bed. I read for eight hours and now am bedding. I do wish this room had a door. I here noises outside the castle. Bumps, moans. I don't know why I came back to this place. Perhaps it's the fabulous eggs. By God.

{______

April 26

It is morning.

Last night went by quicker than I feared. Although I awoke to a start in the middle of the night by a scream, I thought. Inside the castle, somewhere. By God I toileted myself and fell fast asleep.

I awoke to music, classical music, and Opera. It was nice. I got out of bed, toileted, and trotted out into the living hall. The music was coming from the far left corner, on the right side of the room. It was the Count. And by God the music was coming from his mouth! It was wide open but his prominentia laryngea was fiercely jumping up and down. Violins! Drums! By God a woman's voice! I remarked on it and apparently he had not known I was there. He started and screamed. His eyes turned to flame, and his brows turned to a solid bar of iron! It later fell off.

As I write this I'm in a carriage. I believe the same one I ventured in on my first visit to this place a year ago. Dracoola said he would like to give me a tour of his land, so that's what we are doing. It's quite great. The day sky is quite grey but not dark. His land is, well quite dank. Old, dead trees, old, dead grass, stinky bogs, and all around this winding dirt road through the forests are dead things. Seemingly drained of life, holes in their necks. Everywhere is riddled with these corpses of animals, and a few people. By God I can't reason why. I shall ask him.

Ah! He has told me there was a battle recently fought here. Brilliant!

We have aparked at a garden of the most strange flowers. Brown flowers, huge. Brilliant! The Count is eating one.

A werewolf! I had to be! Leaping through the forest. I will tell the Count.

Ah, he said there is no such thing. I am at ease now.

Although this journey through the Count's land is quite fascinating, i fear I am falling fast asleep.

I just awoke from a long slumber. I'm still in the carriage, but the Count is gone! Just me and the horses. Wait... There is a note on my lap. I'll open it... Here is what it says:

I forgot to do something back at my castle. Please, finish the ride, the horses know where to go. -D

I am at ease. I will finish the tour.

Three hours has gone by. No end to this ride has come about.

Three more hours. It's getting dark. By God when does this end?!

By God! That blasted werewolf again! Running through the forest! Great and hairy, long black flowing hair! Yellow eyes! Huge teeth! A trail of glistening spit streaming out of it's mouth, flowing behind it like some sort of strange scarf. I am frightened. Ah! I see the castle! Thank you Lord! We are nearing it. The werewolf, where is it?! It doesn't matter, I'm running for the castle. Here I go. God speed.

I made it. I'm in the living hall connected to my room. It's been four hours since I last wrote. I'll tell you what took place.

As I ran for the great door I glanced back behind me, by God the werewolf was hot on my trail. I reached the door, but by God it was locked! I was in panic. Not knowing where to go I shot off left, running as fast as I could around to the left side of the castle. I glanced back, the werewolf was still hot on me, but rather far away, and slower than i thought. I reached a regular sized door, and tried to open it. It too was locked, but I hadn't the strength to run any longer. In a last desperate attempt I banged on the door, screaming: "Let me in! Help! Let me in!" And by God the door swung open, and I ran in and flung myself down on the hard floor.

And by God the fellow that let me in was Herald! Herald Frankoostein!

He slammed the door shut, locked it, and turned to me. Concern and surprise on his face.

My heart was pounding, I had to toilet badly. But by God, it gladdened my heart to see him.

"Thank you Herald!" I said, sprawled on the floor.

"You alright?" he said, I could tell he was happy to see me.

"Yes, thanks to you. A werewolf was hot on me."

He helped me up and we talked for a while. He told me he was here to help the Count turn corpses right again, or something of that manner. I told him I was here for the second time because my first visit here was unpleasant, and the Count wanted to make up for it. We then parted our ways.

I somehow found my way back to the main entrance and was greeted by the Count. He was holding a large bowl of scrambled eggs. I salivated.

"How was your ride, Charlie?" he asked.

"Rather long but rather fascinating." I answered. "Ah yes, I was chased by a werewolf! I would have been surly eaten if it wasn't for kind Herald. He let me in and saved my life."

"Charlie, Charlie, there is no such thing as a werewolf." he said calmly, convincingly. I almost believed him but snapped out of the foolishness.

"No, no, your wrong!" It was a werewolf! It was right there, I saw it! It chased me!" I yelled. by God I think that was the first time I've ever raised my voice to the Count.

He looked rather angry. Then very angry! He grew in height! His eyes turned to flame! His brows, to a solid bar of hot iron! He threw the bowl of eggs into the wall, shattering it, eggs flying everywhere, then he screamed, it was terrible. "CHARLES! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A WEREWOLF!"

I toileted myself and fainted.

I later awoke where I sit now. On this sofa, next to the burning fire. I will bed now. I am exhausted.

{______

April 27

It is morning, I slept through the night peacefully. I am on a sofa again. I do hope the Count is not angry still. When I see him I will ask to be forgiven. I do forgive him.

Here he comes with my breakfast. It looks to be a bowl of spaghetti. Mmmmm.

I just told him I was sorry and that I forgive him. But he said he didn't know what I was talking about, and left. Most strange. I will eat.

By God I am poisoned! The noodles! It must have been the noodles, or the sauce on them! I am fainting.

Oh no, by God, oh no! I just awoke. I am on the top of a horribly high tower! By God what is happening? I'm strapped down to a table! My hands are barely free enough to write this. A wind! The Count is here.

"What are you doing?!" I yell.

"I'm feeding you to my wives." he said.

Oh my God! I see them flying toward me in the distant sky! By God! I have met my doom! No, wait! The cross on my neck! The cross I always draw there with a quill! It saved me before I think. It will save me again. I will show it forth!

I ripped off my collar! It's working! By God they are all repelled! Even the Count! I am unstrapping myself!

I'm freed from the table! I'm going to go for it! I'm going to leave this place once and for all! God speed.

I made it past them and down many flights of stairs and many halls. I am writing this as I run through the castle. I don't believe they are chasing me.

I'm at the great door!

I through the lock back, opened it, and ran out! The carriage, it's straight ahead. I will jump in!

I'm in! "Ya!" I yell to the horses. "Ya!" It's working! They are running down the road! I made it out! Thank God!

By god! That small fellow just crashed through the roof of this carriage and onto the seat beside me! He is unconscious but alive! I will take him to town, and to the hospital. God speed horses! What amazing beasts!

- Stefan