Pre-Show Announcement

ANNOUNCER: The following episode contains discussions and depictions of violence, body horror, imprisonment, and death, as well as menacing situations, disturbing content, and jump scares. Viewer discretion is advised.

Episode Begins

[Silence. Then… a drop of rain.]

[The drop becomes many. Soon, it is a downpour. Wind blows around us. Above, thunder crashes.]

[After a few moments… a window is shut, lessening the sounds of the storm.]

[We can now hear a fireplace somewhere around us.]

[A person takes a few steps. They reset a typewriter. Take a breath.]

WOMAN: All right... I think it’s time to begin.

[She begins typing. As she does:]

WOMAN: The rules that govern the vampire are well known. He does not die, but clings to life forever. Having lost his own life, he must steal the life of others by drinking their blood. If a place is a home, he may only enter after he’s been invited in. He has to rest in a box of dirt, taken from the land of his origin. He is destroyed by the sun, and cowers at the sight of religious symbols. He can be put to rest by a stake through the heart, or by the removal of his head, or by means of fire. And when he crosses a mirror, he leaves behind no reflection.

[She tears a page away from the typewriter. Takes a breath.]

WOMAN: Those who are killed by the vampire can rise as vampires themselves - a virus that can turn into a plague if left unchecked. And though the vampire may look like a man, all traces of intelligence vanish upon death, leaving behind nothing but a beast. There are no vampires that can think like a man.

[A pause. Then from around her…]

MAN: None... except for one.

WOMAN: Well, well, well... have you decided you’d like to be a part of this after all?

MAN: Oh, come on, Mina... I was there at the beginning, it’s only appropriate that I be here at the end. This is it then, on the table? All of it?

[She is MINA HARKER. He is JONATHAN HARKER. There is some rustle of paper.]

MINA HARKER: All of it, yes, to the best of my abilities. Every written account on the matter of the creature from Transylvania. A full report on everything that happened. The order might seem somewhat... haphazard at first, but... the way these papers have been placed in sequence should be clear in due course.

JONATHAN HARKER: And you’re sure you want to begin with the journal, then?

MINA HARKER: Trust me: leave the record keeping to the professionals.

JONATHAN HARKER: That’d be you, I’m guessing?

MINA HARKER: Of course, that would be me. You’ve known from the day you’ve met me: I’m the strong, clever one.

JONATHAN HARKER: And what am I?

MINA HARKER: You’re the pretty one that got by on his good looks.

[Jonathan laughs a bit at that.]

JONATHAN HARKER: So... together, then, darling? One more time?

MINA HARKER: Don’t call me that. But... yes. Let’s go through it all. From the top.

JONATHAN HARKER: Very well then: from the top.

[Jonathan opens a book.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The journal. Spring of 1893. The first meeting of Jonathan Harker... and Count Dracula of Transylvania.

[A blast of thunder.]

[Dracula: The Danse Macabre’s theme music plays.]

ANNOUNCER: Dracula: The Danse Macabre. Starring Peter Coleman as Jonathan Harker and Evangeline Young as Mina Harker. Episode 1: The Happiness You Bring.

[The theme music fades out. We hear birds and the sounds of a train.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Journal of Jonathan Harker. May fifth, 1893. Kept in shorthand. I left Munich at 8:35 PM on the first, arriving in Vienna the next morning. I barely got a glimpse of Budapest from the train. A month ago I was in New York. The old and new worlds have never been closer.

[An eerie droning sounds around us.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Arriving at the post town of Bistriz, I found two letters waiting for me. One was from the gentlemen who I am traveling to assist. It read:

[He flips a page.]

JONATHAN HARKER: “My friend - welcome to the Carpathians. At three on the fifth the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Burgo Pass my carriage will await you and bring you to me. Your friend, Dracula.” The other letter was from my wife. I held off on reading it until I had a quiet moment to myself.

[Footsteps, which turn into hoofbeats and the churn of carriage wheels.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Once I was on the diligence itself,I tried to engage my fellow passengers in conversation. I only had my broken German to communicate with them, but I made some progress. Then I mentioned where I was heading. From then on, none of them would meet my eye, save for when an older woman made the sign of the cross at me. I... suppose there are worse things than to travel in silence.

[A whiny from the horses. The coach sounds come to a halt.]

JONATHAN HARKER: A few hours after sunset, the coach came to a stop in a mountain pass.

JONATHAN HARKER: Is there a problem, driver?

COACHMAN: Yes, sir.

JONATHAN HARKER: He replied.

COACHMAN: This is the place, sir, Burgo Pass. Where I was hired to bring you.

JONATHAN HARKER: It is? Very well. I am supposed to meet the Count’s carriage here.

COACHMAN: There is no carriage here. Sir must come with us to Bukovina.

JONATHAN HARKER: I - I have business at the castle. If the Count’s carriage is not here... I will just have to wait.

JONATHAN HARKER: The man stared at me. Then, coming so close that I could feel his breath on my face, he whispered:

COACHMAN: You must not go there. Or at least you take this with you, please.

JONATHAN HARKER: He pressed something into my hand. A crucifix.

COACHMAN: Keep it with you, sir. At all times. But please, it is not too -

[A whip cracks. Horses whiny and approach.]

JONATHAN HARKER: At that moment, there appeared a carriage, pulled by four black horses, driven by a tall man with a great black hat.

COACHMAN: I - I was just leaving. Apologies.

[A snap of reins, and the carriage departs.]

JONATHAN HARKER: And just like that, they were gone. The driver did not step down from his box to help me in, but merely gestured at the door -

[A squeak as the door opens.]

JONATHAN HARKER: - and it swung open of its own accord. A... neat trick.

[More hoofbeats as the new carriage travels.]

JONATHAN HARKER: We got underway shortly after that. We traveled in a silence so heavy it made me nostalgic for the lively chatter of the previous coach. But... since I was finally by myself, I opened the second letter. The one from my wife.

[The sounds of the carriage fade, replaced by wistful music.]

MINA HARKER: My darling Jonathan. If all has gone according to plan, this letter has arrived at Bistriz ahead of you. Think of it as a bit of home that has come to meet you on your travels. Now, I am told that it is tradition for wives, on the occasion of their husband departing on a long journey overseas, to spend their days just awash in melancholy - waiting for the smallest scrap of news about their men and being completely useless. Given that we have only been married for a few weeks, I hope you won’t mind if I break with tradition on this occasion.

[Jonathan chuckles.]

MINA HARKER: Don’t you spend a second worrying about me. I know how to keep myself busy, and I’m sure Lucy will keep me on a steady diet of gossip. So please: focus your attention on the work, and come back safe and sound. Yours truly, Mina Harker.

[A woosh, and we return to the first space, with the fireplace.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The last name on it. You wrote the old one and crossed it out.

MINA HARKER: I’d only been married for three days when I wrote it. Old habits die hard. Are we really going to dwell on that detail? [Pause.] Terrific. What happened next?

[The carriage sounds resume. A howl of wolves. Then more.]

JONATHAN HARKER: There was a howl in the dark. Then another. And more still. Until suddenly -

[The carriage stops. All around, wolves growl.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The carriage came to a halt. Ahead of us, at the sides, even behind us - there was suddenly a ring of wolves, white teeth bared. That’s when the driver raised his hands. He swept his arms -

[A dark, screeching sound goes through the air.]

JONATHAN HARKER: - and all at once... the wolves stopped. A cloud passed before the moon, leaving us in darkness. By the time it was gone... so were the wolves.

[The carriage resumes traveling.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I didn’t quite know what to make of this. What kind of man can dismiss wolves with a flick of his wrist? I was still mired in these thoughts as the carriage pulled up into the courtyard of a vast castle.

[There’s a rumble of thunder overhead. The carriage stops.]

JONATHAN HARKER: It was a remarkable place. Castle Dracula looked as though it had been carved into the side of the cliffs themselves, its parapets rising over a ravine that lay far bellow.

JONATHAN HARKER: Which way should I go?

JONATHAN HARKER: The question had been directed at the driver, but when I turned towards him I found that he had disappeared.

[A grunt of effort as Jonathan picks up his luggage.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Seeing no better alternative, I grabbed my bag and approached the tallest, most imposing door I could find. There was neither bell nor knocker, so after a bit of polite hesitation, I simply... pushed.

[A large, creaking wooden door opens.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I found myself in what must be the main hall of the castle.

JONATHAN HARKER: H-hello? Good evening?

JONATHAN HARKER: There was no reply. Until suddenly...

COUNT DRACULA: Welcome to my house. Enter freely and of your own will.

[It is a man’s voice, old and with a thick accent.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I could not see any figure, but the voice seemed to come from every part of the hall at once.

COUNT DRACULA: Come freely. Go safely. And leave something of the happiness you bring.

JONATHAN HARKER: Then, I turned my gaze upwards. At the top of the stairs, I saw him. He was tall, clean shaven save for a long, white mustache. Clad in black from head to toe, without a speck of white anywhere on him. And he seemed ancient. Old in the way the walls seemed old. I bowed and said -

JONATHAN HARKER: Count Dracula, I presume? Jonathan Harker, of the New York branch of Tellson’s Bank. At your service.

COUNT DRACULA: Marvelous. I bid you welcome, Mr. Jonathan Harker of the Tellson Bank of New York.

JONATHAN HARKER: He took my hand, and shook it with a grip so tight it made me wince. His fingers were cold as ice.

COUNT DRACULA: Come, sir. The night air is chill, and you must be in need of food and rest.

[The scene fades to a new space. Erik Satie’s Gnossienne No. 1 plays.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The Count led me to his dining room, where dinner had been laid out for us. Or rather for me.

COUNT DRACULA: You will, I trust, excuse me that I do not join you: I have dined already.

[A rustle of papers.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I presented Dracula with the letters from my superiors. As he read them, I couldn’t help but look at his hands. His nails were long, cut to a sharp point.

COUNT DRACULA: It says here...

JONATHAN HARKER: Oh, yes, the property. It is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face. The estate is located on Blackwell’s Island on the Hudson River. It’s function as -

COUNT DRACULA: Thank you, Mister Harker. I am acquainted with the property. But no, here: your Mr. Hawkins speaks most highly of you. He says you are a... “fine young man, full of energy and talent.”

JONATHAN HARKER: That - that is very kind of him.

COUNT DRACULA: No, no... it is truth, I can see it. Even at a glance. You are...brimming with fine qualities.

JONATHAN HARKER: ... thank you sir. If everything seems to your satisfaction, your signature is all that -

COUNT DRACULA: No, no, Mr. Harker. The important things in life should never be rushed. Tomorrow, we examine these papers with the care they deserve.

[In the distance, a wolf howls.]

JONATHAN HARKER: As you say, Count. I must admit, sir, I am... surprised that a man of your station, sir, would want to relocate to America.

COUNT DRACULA: Ahh, this is an old land, and I am an old man. There is such a thing as growing too familiar with a place. And a place growing too familiar with you. A new country will be good for me. But please - eat. The journey here, I know, is a long one and it will not do to have you depleted. We must revitalize you.

[He pour wine into a cup.]

JONATHAN HARKER: You are a very gracious host. I know you have eaten, but will you join me in a glass of wine?

COUNT DRACULA: Ahh, I am afraid I do not drink wine.

[From outside, another set of wolf howls.]

COUNT DRACULA: Listen to them. The children of the night. What music they make.

JONATHAN HARKER: I didn’t quite know what to say to that. The Count must have noticed some disquiet in me, as shortly after this he said -

[A chair is pushed back.]

COUNT DRACULA: Ah, sir, you must be tired.

JONATHAN HARKER: He bid me up with a gesture, and led me up the grand staircase where I had first seen him.

[The Erik Satie piece fades away, replaced by the sounds of footsteps.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The pathways of Castle Dracula are a tangled, twisting spiderweb.

COUNT DRACULA: It is not far now.

JONATHAN HARKER: Please, Count Dracula, I am quite capable of taking my own suitcase, this really is too much -

COUNT DRACULA: Nonsense. You are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. I will see to your comfort myself.

JONATHAN HARKER: Carrying my suitcase had left me winded more than once, but Count Dracula handled it like it was nothing but one more piece of paper.

COUNT DRACULA: You will make yourself most at home. If you find a door, try the handle. If it opens, consider all beyond it at your disposal. If you find it locked, it is one of the few bits of privacy your humble host would impose upon you. Very simple, yes? Ahh, here we are.

[A door opens.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The room I was ushered into was a welcome sight. A great bedroom, well lighted and warmed. From the doorway, the count wished me -

COUNT DRACULA: Good night, Mr. Harker. Sleep well and dream well.

[An ominous woosh goes through the air.]

JONATHAN HARKER: A moment later, he was gone -

[A door thuds shut.]

JONATHAN HARKER: - and I was left alone with my thoughts.

[The scene fades, returning to the fireplace from the opening.]

JONATHAN HARKER: That’s it. End of the first day at Castle Dracula. What do you think? Onto the second?

MINA HARKER: No. Read the third one.

JONATHAN HARKER: The third one? You want the third entry in -

MINA HARKER: The third letter. That was waiting in Bistritz. The one that isn’t mentioned in the journal. Read it.

[A pause. Then, an adventurous organ theme begins to play over:]

JONATHAN HARKER: “From Mr. Peter Hawkins of Tellson’s Bank. Written in encoded shorthand. “Welcome to Transylvania, Mr. Harker. For many years, we have kept a distant eye on these lands, as they seem to be a hotspot for various occult activities and supernatural incidences. The man Dracula has also long been a person of interest to us - for decades, almost everyone who has associated with the count has disappeared, often to reemerge weeks later as a vampire, stalking the countryside. If Dracula truly intends to relocate to America, the nature of his connection to the undead plague must be ascertained. Your mission, then: Enter Castle Dracula. Ingratiate yourself with the Count. Use the promise of the property we’ve acquired for him as a lure. Determine whether he is connected to the occult matters in the region. If he is, do whatever you can to neutralize the threat before he brings it to America. Remember to protect yourself: keep a crucifix on you at all times. At all times, Mr. Harker. Good luck.”

[The music theme fades out.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Yes, I suppose that is a bit of important table-setting, isn’t it? And speaking of context, now might be a good time to talk about your own activities. May the fifth... what were you doing as your dear husband arrived at Castle Dracula?

[Mina takes a deep breath. Above them, thunder rumbles. As the sounds of the scene fade away:]

MINA HARKER: From the journal of Mina Harker. May 5th, 1893. I was called up to St. Joseph’s in Englewood Township. The priest there had noticed something strange in their churchyard. The grass had wilted around one of the graves, and the local wildlife was avoiding it. Not so much as a fly would touch it.

[Sounds of wood creaking and straining. After a moment, it breaks and comes loose. Mina exclaims with relieved satisfaction.]

[A lilting but determined piano tune plays under the following:]

MINA HARKER: Father, how long?

MINA HARKER: I was talking to Father Sheridan, the priest at St. Joseph’s.

[A church bell rings above them.]

FATHER SHERIDAN: On Sunday it would have been six months since we buried him, God rest his soul.

MINA HARKER: And when did the desiccation begin?

[As they speak, we hear the sounds of Mina examining a corpse.]

FATHER SHERIDAN: ... we started to see signs three months ago, and it’s only gotten worse. I’m - I’m sure this matter could wait until Mr. Harker returns from his travels, Miss -

MINA HARKER: Oh, come on. I’m here, you’re here, the dead body’s here: let’s live a little. And it’s Mrs. now, for the record. Got married five weeks ago.

FATHER SHERIDAN: I... fine. Since you are here already. Is... is he...?

MINA HARKER: Undead? You can say the word, Father, it’s not a sin last I checked. Well, it is a bit difficult to say just yet... although for someone who’s been in the grave for months, there’s very little decay...

[Some shuffling and a fwumph as she moves the body about.]

MINA HARKER: No rigor mortis. That’s curious. And... Hmm. Father, is there a reason for these indentions?

FATHER SHERIDAN: Indentations? What indentations?

[A harrowing drone begins to sound in the background… getting louder…]

MINA HARKER: These ones. The ones that run along the... interior of the coffin lid. [Pause.] Ahh, damn. I was hoping for an answer other than stunned silence.

FATHER SHERIDAN: What - what are you - ?

[Suddenly, there is a hideous snarl from the body. Both Mina and Father Sheridan exclaim!]

[A thump as Mina holds the coffin lid shut. She will struggle to hold down the undead creature over the following:]

MINA HARKER: Well father, I think I’m ready to answer your question now. You have a corpse that refuses to decay, which claws at the lid of its coffin, and which is now struggling to get out of said coffin as I try to hold it shut with my bare hands. I think the answer is yes, you are dealing with one of the undead!

FATHER SHERIDAN: Oh god. Oh my god.

MINA HARKER: Oh, sure, bring Him into this, I’m sure he’ll be of tremendous help. But in the meantime, do me a favor and get me a wooden stake, a pair of pliers, some holy water, and - just in case this all goes poorly - some kerosene and a box of matches. Quickly, please!

[Another snarl from the undead creature.]

[Then, suddenly a burst of flames. The struggling and the droning noise both stop.]

MINA HARKER: Well, it went poorly.

[The sound of burning fades in, accompanied by the pained screams of the undead creature in the background. We are now outside - birds sound overhead and a church bell tolls in the distance.]

FATHER SHERIDAN: Poorly? “It went poorly?” Is that all you have to say? It is a miracle the entire church did not burn down! Is that - that thing even going to - ?

MINA HARKER: To die? Again? Probably in another minute or so. The undead can be stubborn, but fire does tend to give them the peace that eludes them. It’s a matter of anatomical integrity. Or lack thereof.

[Another burst of fire, accompanied by a final scream from the undead creature. Then, all sounds from the creature stop.]

MINA HARKER: Oh, see? There we go. The man is at peace now. Saints be praised.

FATHER SHERIDAN: But what - what was - what was - ?

MINA HARKER: A vampire, if I’m not mistaken. Unsettling, but little more than a feral animal. Any humanity or intelligence it had in life goes when they die. What’s left is just... hunger. Hunger for the life that’s gone.

FATHER SHERIDAN: But - but - ?

MINA HARKER: What causes someone to become such a creature? I’m just going to fill in your questions, otherwise this will take all day. Well... it’s a matter of some debate. The surest way seems to be by becoming the victim of a vampire. It’s a bit like a virus, really. But sometimes it just... happens. Some people, their bodies just reject death.

FATHER SHERIDAN: So that... that poor man. He’s been down there for months just... clawing at the lid of his coffin?

MINA HARKER: And doing it very inefficiently. Oh, come on: your hands? You’re not going to get anywhere with your hands. You can apply much more kinetic force with your feet. What you want to do is kick up. See if you can break the lid of the coffin, and then tear away at the dirt with your feet. You’ll have more room to maneuver, and most people are buried wearing shoes, and those will absorb some of the shock - another plus. What?

FATHER SHERIDAN: How do you know these things, Mrs. Harker?!?

MINA HARKER: Oh, let’s just say I’ve led a rather interesting life. But, in any case, I believe my work here is done. Thank you for a very entertaining afternoon.

FATHER SHERIDAN: What? But - the - the church is a mess! Half the pews are singed, the hall is covered in soot. What am I supposed to say about - ?!

MINA HARKER: I’m sure God will help you find the right words.

FATHER SHERIDAN: But - wait! Mrs. Harker! Please, you can’t just leave like this!

[The scene fades away, returning to the fireplace from the opening.]

MINA HARKER: I just left like that.

JONATHAN HARKER: You’re all heart, Mina.

MINA HARKER: Oh, please. I’d done the hard part. Was I really supposed to hang around to sweep up? Do I have to do everything around here?

JONATHAN HARKER: How many had you seen? In your life, what number was that?

MINA HARKER: Vampires? That would have been the... twenty-ninth. But they were all what you’d expect. Just animals. Mindless creatures. What was waiting in Transylvania was... different.

JONATHAN HARKER: Oh yes. Quite different.

[The sounds of the room fade away. Pages turn.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Journal of Jonathan Harker. May 6th. In spite of how exhausted traveling had left me, I slept poorly last night.

[The squeal of a rat nearby, the growl of a wolf, the screech of a bat.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I had strange dreams, in which a terrible beast stalked me through the woods. The episode with the wolves must have been lingering with me.

[The nightmarish beast sounds fade away.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Once I had dressed myself, I went into the room where we had dined, and found a cold breakfast laid out for me. There was a note with it.

COUNT DRACULA: “Friend Jonathan. There is business I must attend. Make yourself at home, do not wait for me. Dracula.”

[Footsteps as Jonathan wanders through the castle.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I spent the day acquainting myself with the castle. I have always been an observant sort of fellow, with a good sense of direction, so, naturally, I became hopelessly lost no less than six times.

JONATHAN HARKER: [echoing] Hello?

JONATHAN HARKER: I had yet to see a servant, or heard a sound near the castle.

[In the distance, a wolf howls.]

JONATHAN HARKER: All right… no sounds except for the howling of wolves. And in spite of the Count’s admonition, I had yet to find a locked door.

[A door handle rattles. Locked.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Save one. A door in the back of his kitchen. A pantry by the look of it. What could he want to keep private in so prosaic a place?

[The buzz of a fly.]

JONATHAN HARKER: And what beyond the door is attracting all those flies?

[Another wolf howl from the distance. A door opens. In the background, a fireplace crackles.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Another door led to a library, in which I discovered a vast number of books in English. I’d begun to thumb through an almanac when -

COUNT DRACULA: I am glad you found your way here.

[Jonathan exclaims, surprised.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Ahhh, a-apologies, Count. I was - I was not expecting you.

COUNT DRACULA: It is of no matter. These friends have been very good to me. Through them, I have come to know your America. Your New York.

JONATHAN HARKER: Glancing down, I noticed something.

JONATHAN HARKER: Count Dracula, your... your hand. Is it all right?

COUNT DRACULA: Ah, this bandage? It is nothing. I burnt myself today when breaking my fast. I was careless.

JONATHAN HARKER: I am... very sorry to hear that.

COUNT DRACULA: Do not give it one moment of thought. Here, come this way...

[The fireplace grows more pronounced. A sparse, creepy piano theme begins to play under the following:]

COUNT DRACULA: My friend, I was wondering if I could impose upon you for an... eccentric favor? As your host?

JONATHAN HARKER: You certainly could, Count.

COUNT DRACULA: Yes. I cannot help but notice that you wear a Christian cross around your neck. I have a certain... animosity towards the church. Could I ask you to rid yourself of it?

JONATHAN HARKER: Ahh, that is -

COUNT DRACULA: A large favor, I know. But... for your gracious host?

JONATHAN HARKER: I... I am sorry, Count. You see, I am a very devout man.

JONATHAN HARKER: I was nothing of the sort.

JONATHAN HARKER: And this particular crucifix, my beloved wife gave it to me.

JONATHAN HARKER: She had done nothing of the sort.

COUNT DRACULA: So you will not remove it, then? You are very being very rude, Mister Harker. But... between friends, I suppose we can allow it.

[A rustle of paper.]

COUNT DRACULA: You know, Mister Harker, I get many letters in my function as ruler of these lands.

JONATHAN HARKER: I - I would imagine that to be the case. Naturally.

COUNT DRACULA: Most of them are very dry. But a few of them can be rather.... captivating. What do you make of this one?

[Another rustle of paper.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I’m... I’m sorry, Count. I cannot read your language. I’m afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage.

COUNT DRACULA: Ah, of course. Well, in that case, I will translate. “You are a monster. What have you done with her? Give her back to me. Give back my child. How could you...” Well, it goes on like that for some time.

JONATHAN HARKER: Sir...? What... what is this letter referring to?

COUNT DRACULA: If I am honest with you, Mister Harker? I have no idea. It seems this woman’s daughter - a girl of only seventeen - has gone missing. A tragedy. But what she wants me to do about it... [Bark of laugh.] Although... I might have some idea of how to help this poor woman, if only my mind was not so preoccupied by... rude guests.

JONATHAN HARKER: His meaning was rather plain. I... I could not abandon someone to this man’s evil designs, even at the cost of my safety. Slowly, I took the crucifix from my neck.

COUNT DRACULA: Into the fireplace, please.

[A burst of fire from the fireplace.]

COUNT DRACULA: Good man. Now, let us speak of gladder things. We shall -

JONATHAN HARKER: Count Dracula. The girl?

COUNT DRACULA: Do not concern yourself, Mister Harker. I am certain now that the matter will come to a rather... sanguine conclusion. Yes?

JONATHAN HARKER: As you say, Count. Shall we look over the papers for the purchase?

COUNT DRACULA: Soon, my friend, soon. But first, you must speak to me of your home. Of your history. Your language!

JONATHAN HARKER: But Count, you already know and speak English marvelously.

COUNT DRACULA: No, no. My speaking must be indistinguishable from your own. Any imperfection, however small, you must correct. After all... you would not want to have me at a disadvantage, no?

JONATHAN HARKER: We spent the remainder of the evening in conversation, but my thoughts kept returning to my crucifix. To give it up was a terrible blow, but I could not help but feel it was also -

MINA HARKER: Idiotic.

[We are back in the first space, with its distinctive fireplace sound.]

MINA HARKER: Unspeakably idiotic.

JONATHAN HARKER: Noble. I was going to say noble. A life - the life of an innocent girl - was on the line.

MINA HARKER: Oh, I’m not saying it wasn’t without merit. When I say “unspeakably idiotic” the two of us should understand that to mean brave, and sweet, and kind, in a way only one man - only the man I married - could be. But Castle Dracula wasn’t a place for brave and sweet and kind. It was a place for reality. How anyone could think that Dracula had any intention of sparing the girl, regardless of what happened to the crucifix, is beyond me. What could make someone be that shortsighted?

JONATHAN HARKER: Hope, perhaps? Hope that good can triumph over evil?

MINA HARKER: Are you trying to make me laugh or vomit? Because it’s either one or the other.

JONATHAN HARKER: All I’m doing is trying to tell the story. As it happened. Can I continue? Good. Let’s continue:

[The sounds fade away.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Journal of Jonathan Harker. May seventh. I slept poorly again last night.

[We hear a series of surreal, distorted nightmarish noises. A strange, disquieting drone plays over the following:]

JONATHAN HARKER: Nightmares. Stress. Without the crucifix, I feel considerably less safe.

[He starts with a gasp.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I kept bolting awake, checking the lock on the door and the seal I’d jury-rigged on it. Come morning, both were still in place, but I woke up lightheaded, with a pounding migraine. I had a brought a small shaving glass with me. I half-expected to see puncture marks on my neck, but... I found my skin unharmed. If the rumors connecting the Count to vampires are true, I have yet to see any about the castle, and they have not yet fed on me. Yet.

[The sounds fade, replaced by the crackling fire.From Dracula’s dining room.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I wish I could say that I spent the day in search of substantial evidence of Dracula’s involvement with the occult and the supernatural. The truth is I spent most of it in a daze. I didn’t see Count Dracula again until he summoned me for dinner that evening.

[Cutlery scrapes on plates, and we hear various sounds of Jonathan eating under the following:

COUNT DRACULA: Are you well, Mr. Harker? You seem... a little spoiled.

[Dracula’s voice has changed slightly - both the accent and the affectations of his speaking has lessened in a light but perceptible way.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I’m sure it’s nothing, Count. Just a headache.

COUNT DRACULA: Ahh. It is to be expected. You had a great deal to drink last night.

JONATHAN HARKER: I... did?

COUNT DRACULA: Cup after cup of wine. You really should be careful. You wouldn’t want dear Lucy to think you were misbehaving, would you?

JONATHAN HARKER: Lucy?

COUNT DRACULA: Your wife, Mister Harker. Lucy.

JONATHAN HARKER: My - sir, my wife is named Mina.

COUNT DRACULA: Ahhh. [smacks his lips] Yes, of course. Mina. My... my mistake.

JONATHAN HARKER: But how - ? How do you know about my wife? About our friend, Lucy?

COUNT DRACULA: My friend, you told me about her. Last night. Do you not remember? [chuckles] Perhaps, you should get back to bed, Mr. Harker. You are looking a little pale.

JONATHAN HARKER: Perhaps. Although... you are looking rather well, Count.

JONATHAN HARKER: And he was. It was like his youth had been half-renewed. His cheeks were fuller, and his white hair had gone iron-grey.

COUNT DRACULA: It’s all thanks to you, my friend. The pleasant company and good conversation, they have... revitalized me.

[The last words seems to reverberate through the air as the scene fades away.]

[A swarm of bats flies around us as we hear:]

JONATHAN HARKER: Journal of Jonathan Harker. May 8th.

[A series of strange, disconcerting sounds, coming at us quickly and unpredictably.]

JONATHAN HARKER: More restless dreams last night.

[Jonathan wakes up with a startled gasp.]

JONATHAN HARKER: It was past noon when I woke up.

[He moans slightly as he gets up.]

JONATHAN HARKER: As I left the bed, quite a bit of my hair stayed behind. In a single night, it had gone grey.

[Footsteps as Jonathan walks through the castle. From here onwards, his present-day speaking voice sounds a bit thinner and weaker.]

[Disconcerting, discordant piano music plays under the following:]

JONATHAN HARKER: My life is being drained away from me, and it is Dracula that is doing it. I am starting to see the truth behind the rumors now, and it is chilling. I do not understand how he can be a vampire and have retained his mind into undeath, but I cannot deny the reality around me. He is not just connected to the vampiric plague in Transylvania, he is its source.

[Footsteps as Jonathan walks through the castle. A wooden, creaky door opens.]

JONATHAN HARKER: My time was drawing short, I had to find something. Now that I knew what he was, I had to find Dracula’s resting place, the key to his unusual faculties, some weakness - something! While I still had the strength to put it to use.

[Another wooden door creaks as it is opened.]

JONATHAN HARKER: A tapestry hid a door, from which a staircase led to a tower. At the top of it was a door of sheer black wood, a pair of dragons carved into the stone frame above it.

[Under the following, we hear Jonathan straining with effort as he tries to open the door.]

JONATHAN HARKER: But it had no handle, latch, or lock, and it was so heavy that it barely budged at my efforts. It would take the strength of ten men to open it - in my current state, I was no match for it.

[The scene fades away. A wolf howls in the distance.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Night came before I was ready for it, and I’d made no further progress when the Count found me. I decided the time had come to face reality: I needed to leave Castle Dracula at once. I could return to complete my mission once my strength had returned.

[The sound of a fireplace fades in.]

COUNT DRACULA: Ahh, Mister Harker. I was thinking today we could talk a bit about your American Revolution.

[Dracula’s speaking sounds even less affected than it did before. Besides the occasional odd pronunciation, it now sounds like a native English speaker’s.]

COUNT DRACULA: A people ruling themselves, it still seems like utter lunacy to me, but... well, maybe you can make me understand.

[A rustle of papers.]

COUNT DRACULA: What’s this?

JONATHAN HARKER: I think, sir, that it’s time to conclude our business. The matter of these papers, concerning the sale of Carfax. You’ve had days now to review them.

COUNT DRACULA: Are you saying you no longer wish to be my guest, Mister Harker?

JONATHAN HARKER: I am saying that I would like the business between us finished.

[Pause. Then…]

COUNT DRACULA: Oh, very well. Do you have a pen on you?

JONATHAN HARKER: I do, sir. In my bag.

[Jonathan opens his bag. Rummages through it. As he does:]

JONATHAN HARKER: And suddenly... there it was. The crucifix the coach driver had given me. I’d slipped it into my bag and forgotten all about it.

[A warm, angelic tone sounds through the air.]

COUNT DRACULA: Mister Harker?

JONATHAN HARKER: Apologies, sir. The pen.

[A rustle as Dracula takes it. As he talks, he signs various places on the contract.]

COUNT DRACULA: Thank you, my friend. And while I do this for you. I would like you to write three letters to your superiors. Is that initials or… Oh, yes initials. One saying that your work here is nearly completed, another saying that you are starting your journey home, all matters having concluded to your satisfaction, and one more, saying you have safely arrived at Bistritz.

JONATHAN HARKER: Why would I do such a thing?

COUNT DRACULA: Because, my friend, posts here are few and uncertain. Having these letters prepared would ease the minds of your friends and family. Think of Lucy. Excuse me, I mean, Mina. Will you not do this thing, Mister Harker?

JONATHAN HARKER: No, Count, I shall not. For two simple reasons. The first is that I shall not be leaving your castle in a few days. Now that our business is concluded, I intend to depart this very instant.

COUNT DRACULA: And the second?

JONATHAN HARKER: The second that I still have this.

[The angelic tone becomes much more pronounced as Jonathan raises the crucifix.]

JONATHAN HARKER: For a long moment he just stared at the crucifix in my hands, hatred plain in his eyes. Then -

COUNT DRACULA: Of course... my friend. Not an hour shall you remain in my house against your will. Allow me to summon my coachman.

JONATHAN HARKER: I am happy to walk.

COUNT DRACULA: And your baggage?

JONATHAN HARKER: I can send for it some other time.

COUNT DRACULA: Very well, then. Come.

[The angelic tone fades away. We hear soft footsteps as the two men walk. Dramatic music begins to play under the following:]

JONATHAN HARKER: The Count was silent as he led us to the doors through which I had first entered the castle. He drew back the bolts on it, and began to pull it open.

[A creak as the massive door opens.]

COUNT DRACULA: Goodbye, Mister Harker.

JONATHAN HARKER: Goodbye, Count Dra-

[Suddenly, there is the sound of a pack of wolves, growling menacingly. It continues under the following:]

JONATHAN HARKER: There, on the other side of the door, were no less than two dozen wolves. Teeth bared, jaws red. All waiting. Waiting for me.

COUNT DRACULA: Well, Mister Harker? Is there a problem? Were you perhaps... over-hasty? Would you like me to shut the door? Ah-ah… say “please.”

JONATHAN HARKER: ... please, sir. Shut the door.

COUNT DRACULA: Throw it to them. No, don’t look at me. You know what. I will not have it in my house. Throw it to them.

JONATHAN HARKER: Well, what could I do?

[A grunt of effort, accompanied by a rattle from the crucifix.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I threw the crucifix to the wolves.

[The giant door slams shut, blocking out the sound of the wolves.]

COUNT DRACULA: Be a good boy and leave the three letters on the desk when you’re done with them. I’ll handle the rest.

[The scene and the music both fade away, replaced by an eerie droning.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Any pretense of me being anything other than a prisoner was gone. Every morning, I woke up weaker. Every evening, Count Dracula seemed to grow younger. I knew my time was almost done, and every day I tried to find a way to get past the black door at the top of the staircase.

[A groan of effort.]

JONATHAN HARKER: And I could not help but feel I was missing something - something obvious.

[Another groan of effort.]

JONATHAN HARKER: And that’s when I remembered. I had found more than one locked door in Castle Dracula!

[The eerie droning fades down. We hear footsteps.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I made my way down to the kitchen. The art of picking a lock is a subtle, delicate one.

[A grunt of effort, followed by a metallic impact and the sound of wood and metal breaking. A door creaks, now open.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Having no time for such nonsense, I instead broke the lock with an iron poker from the fireplace.

[Flies and other insects buzz around.]

JONATHAN HARKER: What I found inside froze my blood. The body of a woman. A young woman. She had been held here for days, bound at the wrists and the ankles, tied to a post. But her neck... I couldn’t look away from it.

[Tense, menacing music starts playing.]

JONATHAN HARKER: There were holes in it. Punctures. But who was she? She looked not a day past seventeen. Seventeen… A dark thought. Could she - ?

[Suddenly, there is a horrible, rasping gasp as a young woman startles awake. Not dead. Her voice is panicked, weak, and terrified.]

[Jonathan gasps, startled.]

DRACULA’S VICTIM: Please. Please. Please, please -

JONATHAN HARKER: I -

DRACULA’S VICTIM: Help me. You have to help me. Please. Oh god. Please. You don’t understand. He’s feeding on me. He’s been feeding on me for days. Please, before he comes back! You have to make it stop!

[The last word echoes out. The scene fades back to the first space, with its distinctive fireplace.]

JONATHAN HARKER: She was saying it in Romanian, of course. But... that was the heart of it. Make it stop. Please.

MINA HARKER: And then?

JONATHAN HARKER: There’s a page missing from the journal. It was torn out.

MINA HARKER: But you know. What happened.

JONATHAN HARKER: Oh, what do you think? She was hobbled, and weak, practically at death’s door. It was a miracle she had any life left in her at all. She made it as far back as the great hall, before she collapsed and just... stopped. The journal begins again.

[The scene fades, replaced by an eerie droning noise.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The course of action which I have settled upon is a mad one. But I find myself in a place of madness. The creature that inhabits this castle must be destroyed. And the means lie past that sealed door, I’m sure of it. Leaning out of my window, I could see it. High above me: another window, into the room in the tower, beyond the black door. I have a way forward, if I dare to take it. To slip and fall would mean death. But so would remaining here. So I go now to the attempt. God help me!

[A book slams shut. We are back in the first space.]

JONATHAN HARKER: And that’s it. The final full entry. There’s just one more note, on the last page.

MINA HARKER: Yes, but... You could say what happened. What came next. If there were another journal entry... you could say what would be written there.

JONATHAN HARKER: I... suppose I could. Are you sure you want to hear it?

MINA HARKER: After all I have been through? Let’s have it all out in the open. Let’s get it right.

[Jonathan takes a deep breath. As he speaks, the sound of the space fades away.]

JONATHAN HARKER: The stones were big and roughly cut. But still... I found a slow, halting way up the tower.

[A grunt of effort. Erik Satie’s Gnossienne No. 1 begins playing again.]

JONATHAN HARKER: In no time at all, I found myself climbing into a bedchamber. Directly opposite the window sat my enemy: the great black door which had long taunted me. The rest of the room was... odd. A majestic bed, which looked like it had never been slept in. A magnificent wardrobe, swathed in dust. And in a corner of the room, a door, different from the one that led back to the halls of the castle.

[A creak as the door opens.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I found it unlocked, and beyond it a circular stairway, which went steeply down. I armed myself with a torch, and begun the descent...

[A burst of flame, followed by footsteps. The Satie piece fades away.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I must have journeyed in the dark for a quarter of an hour. The stairway went further than the deepest chambers of the castle. At the bottom there was a dark, tunnel-like passage, through which came a sickly odor. The smell of old earth, which had just been dug up.

[More footsteps. Around him, there is a creepy droning sound.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I had arrived at a ruined chapel, which had been used as a graveyard. Strewn about the place were four or five dozen wooden boxes.

[The creak of a wooden lid.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Filled with dirt. Otherwise empty. But then, there it was. Set upon a pedestal. A stone sarcophagus. On the lid, carved, one word: Dracula. The Count’s resting place. Here was my chance.

[He groans with weak effort.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Here at last... was my chance...

[Another groan of feeble effort.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Ah, it was no use. My legs were barely holding me aloft, I was so weak. The stone lid must have weighed half a ton. I could not lift it in my state. But to come so close! No, there must be a way. I set about, trying to find a crowbar, or some piece of metal I could use for leverage. And in the dark, I saw another passage, leading into a vault of some sort. What more secrets could this place hide?

[Footsteps as he walks further.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I ventured further into the depths, and arrived at a strange sight. A circular room of carved stone, with nothing in it but a great pillar of stone, right at the center of it. At first, I thought it was solid. But no. On the far side, a stone was missing, about a foot in length. The pillar was hollow! I brought my torch to the opening.

[A woman’s voice. Startled, she gasps.]

JONATHAN HARKER: It was a woman, dressed in white. Ancient, with long grey hair, and eyes like sapphires. Good god, the Count was keeping another captive!

JONATHAN HARKER: Who are you? Are you all right? Can you understand me?

[The woman gasps, her breath racing.]

JONATHAN HARKER: I reached through the opening.

JONATHAN HARKER: Take my hand! We might be able to -

[He screams in pain as, with an animalistic snarl, the woman bites into his arm.]

[The sounds of the scene fade away.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Sapphire became crimson. I saw the change in her eyes. Right before the fangs went into my arm. I don’t remember anything else. The world went black.

[He wakes up with a gasp. He takes a few relieved breaths, looking around him.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Until… I awoke back in my guest chamber. Alone. Or so I thought. Until...

COUNT DRACULA: If a door is locked, you don’t go in there. Was that really so complicated?

[Dracula now speaks without an accent at all. In fact, he sounds identical to the way Jonathan did when he arrived at the castle, differences in intent aside. Jonathan, meanwhile, is so weak and spent that his voice is barely recognizable.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Count... Count Dracula?

[A flip of a page.]

COUNT DRACULA: Though I suppose curiosity has been killing the cat for some time now.

JONATHAN HARKER: My... my journal. You can read it? But - but I write in shorthand.

COUNT DRACULA: Yes, but you can read it. Which means I can read it.

JONATHAN HARKER: What?

COUNT DRACULA: Do you know your Deuteronomy? “Be sure you do not eat the blood. The blood is the life, and it does not do to eat the life with the meat.” Well, I eat the blood, and the blood is the life. Which means that at this point I have... ooh, quite a bit of your life in me.

[Jonathan takes a gulping swallow.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Who is that woman? In the vault?

COUNT DRACULA: A monster, Jonathan. Just a monster. What do you think? How do I look?

JONATHAN HARKER: What?

COUNT DRACULA: New clothes, for a new continent. But I still feel it’s missing something. [snaps his fingers] Yes, of course. That lovely traveling cape of yours. I think it’s just the thing.

[A fwumph as he throws on the cape.]

COUNT DRACULA: There. How do I look?

JONATHAN HARKER: Like pure evil. You’re - you’re a vampire.

COUNT DRACULA: Oooh, have been for quite some time now.

JONATHAN HARKER: But... you’re not like other vampires. You’re not like the vampires I’ve killed.

COUNT DRACULA: No. There’s nothing else like me. I’m going to fix that, actually.

JONATHAN HARKER: What?

COUNT DRACULA: Oh, Jonathan, I’m afraid you don’t have time for the long version. The short version, then: I’ve been looking for a way out of a couple of rules that have been holding me back. And well, the thing is... when you spend four hundred years eating the smartest people in a superstitious, religious, xenophobic land... it starts to be rather difficult for that culture to produce the kind of people who would be able to find a way around those rules. It mostly just makes the land more superstitious, religious, and xenophobic.

[A touching, sparse piano piece has begun playing.]

COUNT DRACULA: I’m afraid I’ve slightly run this place dry. So I’m going somewhere new. Somewhere... revolutionary. I’m going to help you the desk now.

JONATHAN HARKER: Why?

COUNT DRACULA: Because you’ve always been afraid of dying in your bed, old and infirm.

[A creak as Dracula helps Jonathan up from the bed. Jonathan starts to weep.]

JONATHAN HARKER: How - how do you know these things?

COUNT DRACULA: Because I do. You deserve to die with a pen in your hand, my friend.

JONATHAN HARKER: Did - did you know? The whole time? That - that I’d been sent here to -

COUNT DRACULA: To investigate me? I suspected as much. I know Tellson’s keeps an eye out for all things old and occult. Bad for business, they say.

JONATHAN HARKER: Then - then why?

COUNT DRACULA: Well, you had what I wanted. Carfax. It’s necessary for a really... neat idea I’ve had. And I suppose I wanted to see who they’d send. Whether they’d underestimate me. Here, sit.

[He drops Jonathan onto the desk chair.]

COUNT DRACULA: And I have to confess, Jonathan... I do feel a bit underestimated. No, it’s okay, it’s okay. Here.

[He hands Jonathan something.]

JONATHAN HARKER: What? What do you...

COUNT DRACULA: It’s your journal. The last page of it. Anything you want to write. Any last words. Any last message to Mina. Or to Lucy. It’s okay, I know you never stopped loving her, even after she turned down your proposal. Even after you married her best friend.

JONATHAN HARKER: How do you - ?

COUNT DRACULA: Your life. I took it. It’s mine now. All but this last bit.

JONATHAN HARKER: But - I checked. My neck. I -

COUNT DRACULA: Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry, my friend. It’s an old trick. A veil drawn over your eyes. But if you insist.

[Dracula snaps his fingers. Jonathan cries out in pain as the sound of flesh tearing open is heard.]

COUNT DRACULA: The wound’s been there for days. I just... spared you from it. The whole time you’ve been here, you’ve been having nightmares, haven’t you? That was the part of you that knew. Knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong. But it doesn’t matter now. Come, write.

JONATHAN HARKER: What - what should I write?

COUNT DRACULA: Whatever you want. Whatever you wish to leave behind.

[We begin to hear a heart beating in the background. Jonathan tries to write. Then…]

JONATHAN HARKER: No, I - I can’t. I’m too weak.

COUNT DRACULA: Shhh, shhh, shh... Here... I’ll do it for you. Give me the pen, and tell me what to write.

[Jonathan takes a deep, shaky breath.]

JONATHAN HARKER: Journal of... of Jonathan Harker. Final entry.

[The sound of a pen scratching on paper continues under the following:]

COUNT DRACULA: And so he told me what to write.

[The heartbeat slows down…]

COUNT DRACULA: And I wrote it down for him. And then... it was done. The end of the journal of Jonathan Harker. The end of... Jonathan Harker.

[Both the heartbeat and the music stop.]

[The scene fades away, replaced from the distinctive fireplace of the opening scene.]

JONATHAN HARKER: And then, there was only me.

[Except… we now realize this isn’t Jonathan Harker. It hasn’t been from the start. Here in the frame story, it’s been Count Dracula talking to Mina.]

MINA HARKER: Count Dracula.

COUNT DRACULA: If it’s any consolation, your husband faced death much more courageously than many, many others.

MINA HARKER: Jonathan was a good, kind man, who gave his life in the name of stopping creatures like you from harming anyone else. He was my husband and... whatever else there may have been between us, I loved him. And when you killed him, we had been married for five weeks. But do please share more of your glib little observations, I assure you I am extremely consoled by them, you have no idea. And afterwards?

COUNT DRACULA: Afterwards... well, things advanced quickly. I finished my preparations. Packed some snacks, set off on a journey. Went to America. And then... I met you.

MINA HARKER: And then you met me. And you made a mistake.

COUNT DRACULA: Yes. I underestimated you.

[A pause.]

MINA HARKER: So? What happened next?

[A blast of thunder.]

[The main theme for Dracula: The Danse Macabre begins to play. Over it, we hear:]

ANNOUNCER: This has been Dracula: The Danse Macabre, created by Gabriel Urbina. Tonight’s episode was written and directed by Gabriel Urbina. Based on the novel by Bram Stoker. Starring Evangeline Young and Peter Coleman. Featuring original music by Alan Rodi and sound design by Jeffrey Nils Gardner. Tonight’s episode also featured Gnossiene No. 1 by Erik Satie. Script editing by Sarah Shachat. Recorded by Robby Schwartz at Soho Recording. This has been a Long Story Short Production. Thank you for listening.

The End of the Show

GABRIEL URBINA: Hello, dear listeners, and welcome to the end of the show. This is Gabriel Urbina, the writer and the director of the episode you just heard. I want to take just one more minute of your time to share three quick asks with all of you while I still have you here.

First, if you love the show, please take a second to rate and review it, especially on Apple Podcasts. I've been doing this for ten years now and I cannot tell you how much of a difference those ratings and reviews make for a new show trying to find its audience, and, well, we definitely want this show to find that audience.

Second: if you thought the hour of free entertainment you just heard was worth a dollar… well, we'd love to have that dollar. This show was made possible thanks to a generous grant from the Gabriel Urbina Foundation for the Independent Online arts, and if you go to my Patreon at patreon.com/gabrielurbina, (there is a link in the episode description) you can sign up to make a recurring donation and help me make more of this show and make other shows like it, and keep those shows free for everyone to listen to. Even a dollar a month makes a big difference, and there's some fun extras on there for those who want to be a little bit more generous.

Finally, if there's someone in your life that you think would love this show, please tell them about it. Making this podcast has been a labor of love for us, and I want to make sure that people hear the extraordinary work that Peter and Evangeline, our actors, are doing on this show, that Jeffrey our sound designer is doing on this show, that Alan our composer is doing - just everyone on the team. So if you can help us reach even more person who could use a fun, spooky escape in their life? Please, please do so, we’d be so grateful to you.

All right, that's it for me right now. We'll be back with our second episode on Wednesday November 27th. But don’t worry - that doesn't mean that things will be dark until then. Next week I'll be back on this feed to tell you about a different show that I love and think you should be listening to, and I'll be doing a Creator Commentary for this episode that you just heard over on my Patreon next Wednesday night. So there'll be plenty of stuff to keep us busy for a little while.

But for now, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for listening, and we can't wait to have you back here in two weeks for Episode 2: A Stranger in a Strange Land.

Episode 3: The Confrontation