SEWARD:
September 8th. I sat up all night with Lucy.
LUCY:
Arthur, I'm afraid.
SEWARD:
My dear, you can sleep tonight. I'm here watching you - nothing can happen - and I promise, at any sign of bad dreams, if I see anything, I'll wake you at once.
LUCY:
You will? Will you, really? Then, I'll sleep.
SEWARD (narrating):
I sat all night by her bed side. She did not wake once during the night, although the boughs or a bat or something slapped almost angrily against the window pane.
September 11th. Still quoting from my private journals. This time I received a message from Purfleet. 'It read '10:20 pm, St. John's Hospital. Serious complications, case 891. Your immediate presence in London imperative.' I had no choice. Sometime later, a paper was found among Lucy Westenra's belongings--
LUCY (narrating):
I write this and leave it to be seen so that no one may get into trouble through me. I went to bed as usual, taking care that the window was closed as Dr. Van Helsing had directed.
LUCY:
About two in the morning, I awakened.
I went to the door, called out - 'Arthur! Arthur!' There was no answer.
LUCY (narrating):
Something's broken the window! I'm in the room alone. I dare not go out. The house seems empty. The air . . . full of specks, floating, circling in the draft from the window. The light burns blue, dim. What am I to do? Something very sweet and very bitter all around me - like I'm sinking into deep water. There's singing in my ears.
DRACULA:
You shall be flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood ...
LUCY:
Ahhhh . . .
SEWARD (narrating):
September 12th. Late. Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry tonight. We found her sprawled on the floor, and there was a draft in the room from the broken window. The throat was bare, showing the two wounds, looking horribly white and mangled.
VAN HELSING:
We are too late, my friend. We have failed. God's will be done.
SEWARD:
She is dying?
VAN HELSING:
Yes, she's dying. Stay beside her. It will make much difference, mark me, whether she dies conscious or in her sleep.
SEWARD (narrating):
It was late in the afternoon before she opened her eyes.
LUCY:
Arthur . . . Oh, my love, I'm so glad you've come.
SEWARD (narrating):
I took her hand and knelt beside her. Her breath came and went like a tired, peaceful child. And then the light from the setting sun fell on her face and then, insensibly, a strange change came over her. Her eyes grew suddenly dull and hard - her breathing was heavy - her mouth opened and the pale gums drawn back, made the teeth look large and sharp!
LUCY:
Arthur . . . Ah, my love, I'm so glad you've come. Kiss me. Bend down and kiss me . . .
VAN HELSING:
Run for your life! Run for your living soul and hers!
SEWARD:
Lucy!
VAN HELSING:
She's dead!
SEWARD:
Poor girl. Lie in peace at last. The end.
VAN HELSING:
Not so! It is only the beginning. Wait and see!
==================================
NEWS VENDOR:
Extra! Special! Extra! Special! Kensington Horror!
VOICE:
Westminster Gazette. September 25th. A Hampstead Mystery. 'The Kensington Horror' and 'The Woman in Black' are vividly recalled to mind by a series of events that have taken place recently in the neighborhood of Hampstead. Several cases have occurred of young children straying from home or failing to return from playing on the Heath. In all these cases, the children have given as their excuse that they have been with 'a beautiful lady' who offered them chocolates. In each case, the child was found to be slightly torn or wounded in the throat.
The wound seemed such as might be made by a rat . . .
NEWS VENDOR:
Extra! Special!
VOICE:
. . . or a small dog.
NEWS VENDOR:
Extra! Special! Extra! Special! Hampstead Horror! Read about the beautiful lady! Extra! Special! The Hamstead Horror. . .
VAN HELSING (reading):
The Hampstead Horror. Another child injured by the beautiful lady. We have just received intelligence that another child, missed last night, was only discovered late in the morning. It has the same tiny wound in the throat.
VAN HELSING:
Well, Seward, what do you think of that? You mean to tell me, my friend, that you still have no suspicions as to what poor Lucy died of?
SEWARD:
Nervous prostration following great loss or waste of blood.
VAN HELSING:
And how was the blood lost or wasted? You are a clever man, my friend, and a good doctor, but you do not believe that there are things that you cannot understand. You are wrong, Seward. Are you aware of all the mysteries of life and death. Can you tell me why in the Pampas there are bats that come at night and open the veins of cattle and horses - and suck dry those veins? Hmm? How on some islands of the western seas there are bats which hang on trees all day, and then when the sailors sleep on deck because it is hot, sweep down on them, and then in the morning are found dead men, as white as Miss Lucy was?
SEWARD:
I understand none of these things.
VAN HELSING:
After tonight, Seward, if you dare to come with me, perhaps then you will understand.