My story begins about seven years ago, in 1875. My name is Jonathan Harker, and I live and work in London. My job is to buy and sell houses for other people. One day a letter arrived for me from a very rich man who lived in Transylvania. He wanted to buy a house in England and he needed my help. The man was Count Dracula, and I agreed to help him.
I found a house for him, and he asked me to take all the papers for it to Transylvania. I was not very pleased about this. I was planning to get married in the autumn, and I did not want to leave my beautiful Mina.
‘But you must go, Jonathan,’ she said. ‘The Count is rich, and perhaps he will give you more work later.’
So I agreed to go. I did not know then of the terrible danger which waited for me in Transylvania.
And so, on 4th May I arrived at a little town called Bistritz. Transylvania was a strange and beautiful country. There were mountains, trees and rivers everywhere. And somewhere high in the mountains was the Count’s home, Castle Dracula. I had six hours to wait before the coach came to take me there, so I went into a little hotel. Inside the hotel it was warm and friendly. The people there were all laughing and talking. ‘Where are you going?’ they asked me.
‘To Castle Dracula,’ I replied.
Suddenly the room was silent and everyone turned to look at me. I could not understand why they all looked afraid.
‘Don’t go there,’ someone said.
‘But i have to,’ I answered. ‘It’s a business.’
They began to talk again, but they were no longer laughing. Slowly, the hotel keeper’s wife took the gold cross from her neck and put it into my hand. ‘Take this,’ she said. ‘There is danger at Castle Dracula. Perhaps this will help you.’
When the coach arrived and I got into it, a crowd of people came to watch, and I heard the word ‘vampire’.
The coach travelled up into the mountains. Higher and higher it went, faster and faster. The sun was bright, but above the trees there was snow on the mountain tops. Then suddenly the sun went down behind the mountains and everywhere was dark. In the forest around us, the wolves were howling. It was terrible sound.
Suddenly the coach stopped. A small carriage came down the narrow road on the right. Four black horses were pulling it, and the driver was dressed in black, with a black hat pulled down over his face.
‘Where’s the Englishman?’ he called. ‘I’ve come from Castle Dracula!’
He looked strange, standing there in the moonlights, and suddenly I was afraid. But it was too late. I could not go back now.
Soon we were on our way to Castle Dracula. The mountains were all round us and the moon was behind black clouds. I could see nothing – but I could still hear the wolves. The horses went faster and faster, and the driver laughed wildly.
Suddenly the carriage stopped. I opened the door and got out. At once the carriage drove away and I was alone in front of the dark, silent castle. I stood there, looking up at it, and slowly, the big wooden door opened. A tall man stood in front of me. His hair was white and he was dressed in black from head to foot.
‘Come in, Mr Harker,’ he said. ‘I’m Count Dracula.’ He held out his hand and I took it. It was as cold as ice!
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