My name is Jonathan Harker. I had been looking for employment since I graduated from college six months ago with a degree in Eastern European history. My resume and photo on the Internet had not garnered me any job offers. In fact, I hadn't even had an interview.
Then, I received an e-mail from an employment agency working for a prospective employer in Romania offering me employment as a personal secretary. As a college exchange student, I had been to Poland and Czechoslovakia, but had not made it to Romania. I was excited by the prospect of spending time in an Eastern European country, and since I didn't have any other offers, I decided to accept. In only a matter of days, I was provided with a plane ticket and directions to a mansion where I was to be personal secretary to a Romanian count named Vlad Tepes Dracula,
I arrived just before dusk, the final few miles in a horse-drawn carriage from the nearby village. The driver dropped me off about 500 yards from the entrance before dumping out my bags, turning the carriage around and whipping the horses away. When I got to the entrance, I used the huge knocker attached to a carved gargoyle on the door. Presently, the door opened, and I saw the largest man I had ever seen in my life. He was bald, with a coarse, brown/gray beard. He was at least 6-foot-8, and seemed as thick as he was tall. At 5-7 and only 135 pounds, I felt more than a bit intimidated.
"Uh ...." I cleared my throat . .... "I'm Jonathan Harker. Are you Count Dracula, sir?"
The giant gave a grim smile, took my bags from me and ushered me inside.
"No sir," came a deep voice from the large man. "My name is Renfield, sir. I am Count Dracula's servant. The Count is expecting you, sir. Please wait here in the drawing room while I take your bags to your quarters."
I looked around as I stood there, straightening my tie, and shaking out my longish blond hair. I looked for a mirror, but there was none in the room. I smiled to myself over being so uneasy. I came here for employment, and I had decided that I wouldn't be intimidated by being in a strange country. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the Count. He seemed to materialize right next to me. He was a tall man, about 6-3, bony and gaunt. His jet-black hair slicked back, his face heavily lined, and when he spoke, it was in a rather teasing, thick Romanian accent.
"Welcome, Mr. Harker," he said, and for some reason a chill went down my spine. He offered me his hand to shake. It was so very cold and clammy, and his fingers were so long that my small, slim hand was lost in his.
"You must be hungry, Mr. Harker, after your long journey," he said. "Please come into the dining room. Renfield has prepared your supper. I have already dined, and will join you shortly."
I sat and ate a very satisfactory chicken dinner along with a glass of red wine. When the Count returned, he stood by the table. I asked him if he would be having a glass of wine with me.
"I never drink," said Dracula ..."wine."
Another cold chill went through me. I stuttered a bit when I asked him about what my duties would be. He smiled, reminding me of a crocodile.
"There will be plenty of time to discuss your duties tomorrow evening, Mr. Harker," he said. "You must be quite fatigued from your travels."
I was suddenly quite tired, but managed to ask the Count why he said tomorrow evening.
"I dislike the daytime," he said. "We will do all our work at night. Would that cause you terrible inconvenience, Mr. Harker?"
"Uh ... no ... no sir," I replied.
Dracula slowly looked me up and down and exhibited that crocodile smile again. "You look very much like your Internet picture, Mr. Harker. Renfield will take you to your quarters. I hope you will have pleasant dreams."
Renfield appeared and led me upstairs to my room. The stairs creaked under his massive weight. He opened the door and let me in before respectfully backing out of the room. The door closed, and then I heard a key turning.
I walked over and tried the door. It was locked!
"Renfield," I called out. "Renfield! Why did you lock the door?"
There was no answer. I decided to just go to sleep and worry about it in the morning. I slept fitfully, dreams of howling wolves and dark mists preventing me from feeling rested when I woke up. Renfield came in and told me I was expected downstairs. I asked him what time it was. He told me 6:30 p.m. It was already nighttime. I couldn't believe how long I had slept. I figured I must have been more tired than I thought from my journey.
Not knowing how formal the Count was at meals, I put on my best suit and tie. I was about to go downstairs when Renfield came in again.
"That will never do, sir," he said.
Suddenly, the count appeared at the door. A foul, gray mist began to filter into my room as I saw him nod at Renfield just before I began feeling dizzy. Renfield's big hands picked me up as I passed out.
The next thing I know, I'm seated at the table across from Count Dracula, who was wearing a black, high-collar tuxedo. I didn't know how I had gotten there ... and I didn't know how I came to be dressed the way I was.
My body had been shaved of every trace of a hair, and I caught the scent of a subtle feminine perfume. It was coming from me! Renfield came over, carrying a large mirror. He put it in front of me. I couldn't believe what I saw. There I was in a lovely, light blue chiffon off-the-shoulders dress. My blonde hair was fashionably and expertly coifed atop my head. I looked at the Count in confusion. His face was stern, his eyes hypnotic. I was suddenly terrified. I wanted to get up and leave, but my mind had lost its will.
"You are a lovely young lady, Mr. Harker," said Renfield.
I wanted to scream, to get away, but instead, my bare shoulders slowly shimmied and my wine glass moved from my neck down to my small cleavage.
"What?" I thought. "I ... I can't have cleavage."
The count reached out and touched my chin with his long, cold fingers. Another chill went through me.