Dracula in Istanbul

by Bram Stoker

  But Şadan’s ghost was completely different. That purity and beauty had given way to cruelty; and the familiar shyness on her face was replaced with a frightening lust.

  At a sign from the doctor we quickly left our places and formed a line before the door of the mausoleum. Doctor Resuhî Bey raised the lantern and drew the slide without hesitation. When the light fell on Şadan’s face, we saw that her lips were crimson with fresh blood and that the stream had trickled down over her neck and stained her shroud!

  We all felt a shudder of fear and disgust pass through us, as cold as death itself.

  I could see by the tremulous light that even Professor Resuhî’s nerves of steel were failing. Turan was next to me, and if I had not held him up he would have fallen.

  When she saw us, Şadan drew back and snarled like a dog. Then she glared at us. Her eyes, once kind and deep blue, shining like a morning star, now burned with the fires of hell. A sinister glow wreathed her face. With a careless motion she callously flung to the ground the child who up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. As the child moaned piteously, unable to move, Turan uttered another pained cry. With open arms and a wanton, hellish smile, Şadan advanced toward Turan invitingly. I saw the poor young man back away, covering his face with his hands.

  However, Şadan continued to advance with an enchanting and weird grace, and spoke with indescribable seductiveness:

  “Come to me; come, Turan! My arms are waiting for you; my lips are longing for you; leave them and come to me! Come, my love, come!”

  Ah, what kind of magic, what kind of hellish, devilish deception was in that invitation! Turan moved his hands from his eyes as though under a spell. He slowly opened his arms. He advanced toward this sinister, bloody creature from which only a moment before he had recoiled in fear and disgust. Şadan made a quick, joyful move to meet those open arms. But at that moment I saw Resuhî Bey dart out and hold an open book to her face; it was a Quran. The vampire turned away with a hideous growl. Her face was distorted with anger and hatred; she passed by the professor and moved furiously ahead toward the mausoleum.

  But we saw this horrible ghoul, this vampire, stop suddenly a few steps from the door as though arrested by an invisible force. A moment later she turned back, and the moonlight clearly illuminated her face. Never could I have imagined such a grotesque, unutterable look of lust, fury, and loathing. Could such a thing exist even if Azrael and Death itself had wished it?

  Resuhî Bey hurried toward the door and removed one of the pages that sealed the gap between the door and its hinges. Before we even understood what was happening, we saw Şadan’s physical body turn almost into water—no, vapor—and slip through that knife-edge crack!

  Then the professor turned to Turan: “Now, Turan Bey,” he said, “will you allow me to do as I wish?”

  Turan fell on his knees, covered his face with his hands, and cried:

  “Ah, Doctor, do as you must. It is horrible, horrible!” Özdemir and I took the poor man by his arms and raised him up. The doctor lifted up the child, who was off to the side, moaning. Deftly, we left it near a police station without revealing ourselves to anyone, despite the danger.

  As we parted ways, the doctor said:

  “Come to me tomorrow at noon; we will complete our job together in daylight.”

  Turan and Özdemir stayed at my house. We all lay down on one of the sofas. I do not need to explain the rest.

  * * *

  All four of us were at Şadan’s grave the next day at two o’clock. This time the doctor brought with him a long and heavy leather bag. We opened the coffin with trembling hands. My God; Şadan lay in the coffin with her bloody mouth, neck, and shroud—and her exceptional beauty. And by this time we had almost grown accustomed to this grisly scene. On one hand, we still could not believe our eyes and minds; on the other, we could not find in ourselves the courage to deny the evidence before us.

  Although there was still daylight, the doctor lit the lantern he took from his large leather bag to ease the air of gloom and decay inside the mausoleum. On the ground he placed his surgical knives and a thick, polished stake that was about three feet long. After doing this strange thing, he took out a heavy hammer with an iron handle.

  The professor looked up suddenly and said gravely:

  “Before we get to work, I find it necessary to say a few more things to you. What I shall tell you is about the deeds of these ghouls and the limits of their powers and abilities, which have been researched unceasingly and collected by age-old nations, societies, and some of the tribes who still live throughout the world. I shall explain everything briefly. When a human becomes a vampire, they also face the curse of living in that state forever. These things never die. As the ancients said, they will continue to live over and over and bring new victims and catastrophes to the world. For with the bite of a vampire, all who have their blood sucked by them and die become vampires themselves. And then they prey on other people. So this terror and disaster continues to grow. My dear Turan Bey, had you kissed poor Şadan without minding my interference, or had you embraced her last night, you would have been in danger of becoming the monster that the Slavic people call Nosferatu, Europeans call Vampire, and other nations call Hortlak. Now the exploits of poor Şadan, which you witnessed with grief and fear, are only beginning. The condition of the children whom Şadan has bitten is not yet clear; but if she continues to exist in this vampire form, she will have a constant influence and a terrible effect on them; they will come to her almost willingly to have their blood sucked. However, if Şadan was to truly die, the situation would be resolved. The wounds on the children’s necks would disappear on their own. There is another important point that must be considered; when we actually kill Şadan, her soul will be freed from the servitude of evil and she will find eternal peace and happiness. For this reason, the one who will strike the blow of salvation will be doing her the ultimate favor. There is one person among us who has the most right to do this duty, should he wish it.”

  At these last words we could not help but turn our eyes to Turan. This brave soldier, who did not lose his cheer even when surrounded by death, was now as pale as a ghost. His trembling figure was apparent even in the darkness. However, the poor young man rallied the last of his strength with a superhuman effort and said:

  “Tell me, my friend. I shall do whatever is necessary without hesitation!”

  Doctor Resuhî Bey said:

  “I know, you are as brave as you are patient. But let me tell you one thing: this will take very little time; but once you start, do not falter and do not stop; we shall be there with you.” Turan, who with only a little effort was to be the cause of eternal happiness and compassion, repeated in a hoarse voice:

  “Tell me, I am ready to do anything.”

  The old professor came closer to Turan:

  “Now take this sturdy stake in your left hand and be ready to put the point over Şadan’s heart. Then take this hammer in your right hand. Now, when I begin to read (here the doctor brought out a little book that I later understood was a Quran), you say “Bismillah”[12] and strike the stake over the heart, driving it through until it penetrates to the other side.”

  From where I stood I saw Turan’s face turn completely pale. His hands trembled. But suddenly he plucked up his courage and all of his strength, and now was brave and ready, just as he was instructed. When the holy harmony of the Quran, read by Resuhî Bey’s grave voice, began to vibrate in the mausoleum’s shadowy corners, Turan put the point of the stake over his lover’s heart, raised the hammer, and struck it with all his strength and might.

  We saw the body in the coffin writhe like a snake. And a hideous, blood-curdling screech came from the half-open red lips!

  Yes, the body quivered and twisted wildly. Her sharp white teeth champed together violently and her lips and tongue bled amid the sound of cracking teeth.

  Red foam came from her mouth and beg
an to drip down her neck. However, Turan never faltered. My tall friend looked like an incomparable statue as his strong, steady hands rose and fell, dealing heavy blows each time and burying the sharp stake even further into his lover’s heart. The horrible quivering of Şadan’s body slowly lessened. The champing of the mouth ceased. And finally the body, which had had a small fountain of blood over the heart, became completely still beneath the shroud. The terrible ordeal was over!

  The hammer fell from Turan’s hands. His large body reeled. Özdemir and I both moved forward to catch him. When we plucked up our courage and looked at the coffin a moment later, we were all frozen in place. The vile, unnatural, hideous color in Şadan’s face had disappeared, and the holy light of a calm soul resting in eternal peace had taken its place.

  Doctor Resuhî Bey turned to Turan:

  “Now you may kiss your Şadan,” he said.

  With feelings of deep respect, joy, and grief mixed in his eyes, he bent over the coffin and kissed poor Şadan’s forehead, which now glowed with the beauty of a pure flower. When Turan and Özdemir Bey left the mausoleum at the doctor’s sign, Resuhî Bey severed Şadan’s head with a surgical knife. He filled her mouth with garlic flowers. Then we closed the lids of the coffin and sarcophagus and went outside.

  After we jumped over the cemetery wall, the old professor turned to us:

  “Now, my children, the first part of our journey is complete. We accomplished our first task. However, there is a long road and a difficult trial ahead of us. All that remains now is to find the true author of these disasters we have suffered. I hope, after all you have seen, you will believe me from now on. When that happens, there arises an objective, a goal; but shall we walk together toward that higher, divine, and altruistic aim? I actually think I have some clues to the real culprit of these catastrophes.”

  We each took the professor’s hand earnestly and told him that we were all with him, even in death. The brave and heroic old man said:

  “Very well, we will meet two days from now to begin discussing and investigating this.”

  CHAPTER XII

  FROM DOCTOR AFİF BEY’S DIARY—continued.

  As I was leaving tonight, Professor Resuhî Bey gave me two notebooks and said:

  “Tonight I must go to Yakacık; this is very important. But a woman I know, Güzin Hanım, is coming here to meet with me. Unfortunately I will not be able to meet her. However, this young woman is very important. Both she and her husband Azmi Bey will be very helpful in our investigation. That is why I want you to meet with them. I will see her here later. One of these notebooks belongs to her and the other belongs to her husband. Before meeting with the wife, read both notebooks very carefully and with an open mind; then you will begin to understand the situation. Afif, my son, we face danger—a terrible, historical one—in these frightening, mysterious times. Güzin Hanım is a very clever and sensible person; you will see this when you speak with her. She was also the dearest friend and the sincere confidant of poor Şadan.

  29 September.—I read the notebooks belonging the lawyer Azmi Bey and his wife given to me by the professor; I wonder if what happened to Azmi Bey is really true? Or if this young man who went to Transylvania went mad. My God, what terrible web of secrets are we falling into? In my opinion, the veil of mystery surrounding us is not unraveling. It is becoming even more complicated, unnerving, and baffling.

  Güzin Hanım arrived as Doctor Resuhî Bey had informed me. After reading her and her husband Azmi Bey’s diaries, her value and importance had increased in my eyes even further. What a beautiful, charming, and thoughtful young woman. In truth, Azmi Bey is a lucky man. During our discussion of Şadan’s tragedy, I read some passages from my own diary to Güzin Hanım and she appeared deeply interested. I finally decided to let her read my entire journal. After reading these pages, Güzin Hanım said:

  “Your diary is very interesting and very important. I can see clearly that it is one terrible part of a very horrible and unbelievably sad story. Both Azmi and I worked almost day and night after the day we met dear Doctor Resuhî Bey. Today, in the hopes of gathering more information, Azmi went to that place in Bakırköy where Şadan first showed signs of illness and where we know all of the events in the diary occurred. But he will be returning tomorrow. If we keep working together, we will triumph over the most dangerous obstacles!

  After a brief pause, she continued:

  “Ah, Afif Bey, we will learn even more terrible things; we will confront something that began centuries ago. If only I could tell you what I think is about to happen.”

  From Güzin Hanım’s Diary.

  29 September.—My God! Doctor Afif Bey’s journal, especially the section regarding Şadan’s death, made me very uncomfortable! If I did not know what happened to Azmi in Transylvania I could have never have believed such a thing possible. Something occurred to me; I asked Doctor Afif Bey if his journal had been read carefully by Doctor Resuhî Bey.

  “No,” he said. “The professor did not need to see this.”

  However, I am thinking of this difficult, horrible situation we face. To better understand this threat that has been unfolding behind a dark fog for three or four centuries, and which has now stretched its arm to Istanbul, I find it necessary for that fascinating Doctor Resuhî Bey to read Doctor Afif Bey’s diary. I think it is essential. Even the smallest detail could help uncover the greatest secrets. My God! I almost see disaster unfolding before my eyes as I write these lines.

  When I gave my opinion to Doctor Afif Bey, he was persuaded to show the journal to Resuhî Bey. Turan Bey, Özdemir Bey, Resuhî Bey, and the rest of us will form a council of war, so to speak. By that time Azmi will be back from his investigation in Bakırköy. I have said that even the smallest detail may help to uncover great secrets. One example of this is the fact that Doctor Resuhî Bey and I have read Azmi’s notebooks, and we believe sincerely that this horrible creature called Count Dracula, and the coffin of this wild and dark shadow from the Turkish Empire’s past, has come to Istanbul from Bakırköy. Who would have thought that a few random lines about a ship with a Russian flag from Varna and crates of soil would yield such results? A vampire in Istanbul… and his identity… Am I dreaming, or am I reading a horror novel?

  From Doctor Afif Bey’s Diary.

  30 September.—Azmi Bey and his wife Güzin Hanım arrived today at one o’clock. I examined very carefully this man who lived a life of hell in the castle of the dreaded Count Dracula. A very polite, but also tough, clever, and athletic young man from Istanbul. He is also good-spirited, just like his wife. But at the same time, he is thoughtful. According to the plan set by Doctor Resuhî Bey, my large apartment has become a sort of rendezvous point. I set aside a room for Azmi Bey and his wife immediately. My private clinic of five or six beds will be very useful for these guests right now. It is really quite fortunate that I do not have many patients.

  Late afternoon.—Azmi Bey and Güzin Hanım have put their heads together as husband and wife and are arranging all of the papers in chronological order and by related events, just like expert investigators. I am both envious and amazed by them. According to my private conversations with Azmi Bey, Count Dracula is in Istanbul. He came here from Bakırköy. Through investigation based on the addresses written down by Dracula, Azmi Bey has discovered where they are taking the crates of soil. Azmi Bey already knows the address of the Istanbul house bought in Dracula’s name, but he may have bought other places of which we are unaware. I am a complete believer now, too. I am amazed! The truth of recent events is absolutely undeniable. So Doctor Afif believes in ghouls and vampires, eh?

  From Güzin Hanım’s Diary.

  30 September.—I can hardly contain my excitement. Azmi has returned from Bakırköy with very important information. With all our strength we have now declared—yes, I believe we have—war on Dracula, the Impaler Voivode, this vampire from out of the darkness of centuries. When I read our nation’s glorious history with tearful eyes, and sa
w the cruelties and murders committed by this unprecedented monster who had many names, like Dracula, Black Devil, and Impaler Voivode, I cursed myself for not being a Turkish sipahi[13] living 400 years ago. Does this chain of events bring me into the battlefield with that devil in a different way? Strange, very strange! The only person to make all of this right is our brave commander, Doctor Resuhî Bey!

  A moment ago, Turan Bey and his assistant Özdemir Bey arrived. Şadan’s poor lover, aide, and fiancé, Turan Bey, is a beautiful and kind man. Özdemir Bey is a paragon of the Turkish race and the Turkish type! We all sat and talked while Azmi was present. We discussed what has happened. Then, according to Doctor Resuhî Bey’s prior instructions, they read the notebooks of Azmi, Doctor Afif Bey, and myself.

  CHAPTER XIII

  FROM GÜZİN HANIM’S DIARY—continued.

  The night of the same day.—Finally our honorable and fearless leader, Doctor Resuhî Bey, has arrived. When we met two hours after sunset in Afif Bey’s large, private lounge, Doctor Resuhî Bey was naturally the chairman of the meeting.

  After scanning all of us with his eyes, the doctor said:

  “My friends, you have now read and examined for yourselves all of the documents we have. You are also well aware of what has occurred. But now, I would like to give you some information about the characteristics of the enemy we will be fighting. After I have laid these down I will also discuss his history, which will greatly help to set the course of our battle. Yes, my friends, despite what some may say, there are such beings as vampires and ghouls. Almost everyone at this meeting has seen it to be true. In fact, even if we had not the proof of our own terrifying experiences, the writings, stories, and legends of the previous centuries are proof enough. I must confess: I did not imagine the day I would believe in such things. Had I not endeavored to understand the vastness of life, the universe, and the laws of nature—and the fact that our comprehension of them is yet very limited—there would be no way for me to grasp the horrible truth we face. A vampire is not like a bee that dies after stinging a man once. He gains strength as he bites and sucks blood; and his power, abilities, and capacity to work evil increase as he grows stronger. This vampire, who is now among the unknowing people of Istanbul, is the same thing that Romanians, Transylvanians, and Czechoslovakians call Nosferatu; but in this single being is the strength of twenty people like us. He has unprecedented powers of trickery and deception, for they have been honed over centuries. Because he possesses special abilities, he can appear anywhere in an instant and can in certain places create storms and fog. He has the ability to change his form. He has power over some animals. He can grow and become small; he can pass through even the smallest of holes. He can at times vanish completely. This is the abhorrent monster we now combat. Are you prepared to enter into this terrible war?”