Bram Stoker's Dracula Retold

Jonathan Harker's Journal - May 3rd

May 3rd, The Year of The Monkey

I’m not sure if it really is the year of the monkey but an orang-utan has been following me around since I left London and I can’t seem to get rid of it.

The bloody train was late. I left the house early in case by some miracle it might be on time or God forbid early. I thought I would take a gentle stroll to the station. I wrapped it in a box and put it in my travel bag.

I had not made it very far when a thought struck me. I knew it would leave a bruise which would not look good when I reached my destination. The thought was this – Why are my legs cold? I looked down to find I was wearing shorts. Although it was May, and the weather was fine, I did not think it good business practise to go on a business trip in Bermuda shorts.

After a swift return to my house, I decided to get a coach to the station. I was still early for the train. I had a coffee. It tasted like shit. Damn British Rail cutbacks.

By May 1st I had made it to Munich. I could have made it there quicker if the trains had been on time. I did not have much time to spare in Munich. I did not have much change either as the orang-utan had asked me for a banana milkshake. I would love to know how it came to be travelling with me.

From Munich I travelled to Venice. I found out on arrival that this should have been Vienna. This buggered my plans up no end. My spare change had run out, and I needed to get to Vienna to catch my connecting train. After some persuasion, some dishwashing and some minor prostitution I was able to pay my way to Vienna.

I had to run through Budapest station like an Olympic athlete and managed to leap at my train just as it was about to depart the station. Unfortunately the doors were not quick enough in opening. My nose is still sore.

Once onboard, with two pieces of toilet roll stuck up my nostrils, I settled in for the next part of my journey. As I had only made it to the train by the crack of my nose, I believed that my hairy companion must have been left behind. I peeled a banana to eat in his memory. Before I could take a bite, a big orange arm reached over from the seat behind and plucked it from my hand. He was starting to get on my fucking nerves.

I arrived in Klausenburgh later that evening and was required to check into a hotel for an overnight stay. I preferred it to sleeping on the street. I had a chicken dinner, which was made using some lengthy foreign recipe. I made a note to get a copy of it for Mina, she loves cooking. She’s not good at it but she likes to burn things. I’m sure that she is a pyromaniac at heart.

I retired to my room soon afterwards. I was delighted to find that the room had wonderfully soft king-sized bed. I was, however, rather pissed to find that the right hand side was occupied by a large orange hump. He was snoring too. And his lanky arms were strewn over the other side of the bed. Had the bed not been so soft I would have slept in the chair. Instead I struggled to contain him on his own side of the bed and created a barrier of pillows down the centre of the mattress. I had no notion of what kind of ideas an orang-utan could get into its head and was not in a hurry to find out.

The night passed quickly. The orang-utan passed wind frequently. I passed out twice from the smell.

I was late for breakfast. Bloody hotel alarm clocks. I would have blamed the orang-utan but he was still asleep and snoring with such a deep rattle it was moving my bowels. I hadn’t been for three days so it was a welcome movement.

I made it to the station just in time. At least I would have been just in time had the train not been late. I had to spend an hour in the carriage before we moved. It did give me time to leaf through some booklets I had picked up in tourist information. My client, Count Dracula, had mentioned some of the beautiful landscapes that I would see. He was certainly not mistaken. If I was not soon to be married I would be very happy staying here with the landscape in the seat opposite me.

I arrived at the destination of Bistritz just after sunset. I had been given the name of the hotel I was to stay in for the night. The Golden Crone Hotel. I half expected to find an immensely valuable statue of an old hag waiting to greet me. Instead I got one made of flesh and bone.

She stood in the doorway as though she had been awaiting my arrival. When I saw an orange bulk in the hallway behind her I realised why. How the little shit had made it to the hotel before me I had no idea.

The woman was wearing clothes that were so tight I could see every bone in her body. I could also see very vividly the bulges of the pale, wrinkly flesh covering the bones. I felt my breakfast knocking on the door to my stomach asking to come out. I slid an extra bolt across to hold it down.

The hotel itself was not what I had expected. It was a shithole. I had believed the Count would have provided me with something decent as it was at his request I stay there. The windows were dirty, the door had a hole in it and there was some nasty stains on the hall carpet, which for once were not from the orang-utan.

Once I was inside the hotel, the old woman was joined by an old man. I suddenly felt very young.

“You are Mr Harker,” the woman stated.

“I was the last time I checked,” I said.

She said something to the old man that I did not understand. The orang-utan jumped up and down, clapping his hands together like two soggy loaves of bread. I hated to think he knew something I didn’t.

A moment later the old man handed me a letter. It was written in a dark red ink.

“My good friend. Welcome to my country. I am eager to meet you, and learn of the details you have for me regarding our transaction. I should also like to enquire as to whether you carry a donor card. I like to check these things for Health and Safety records. At three tomorrow you will leave for Bukovina, and at the Borgo Pass I will have a carriage waiting for you. It will be black and have four wheels. I hope your journey so far has been enjoyable and our pitiful train service has not put you out too much – All my love, Dracula.”

Behind me the orang-utan farted. The old man and woman passed out. I held my nose and climbed the stairs to my room. I closed and locked the door before the orang-utan could get in. I intended to have at least one decent sleep and now I have completed this journal entry I shall retire to bed. I would much prefer to be retiring to the Bahamas.