





Dearest Quincy,

Eight years ago the Devil himself came to London to dwell in Carfax Abbey. Eight years ago my dear friend Lucy became one of the Un-Dead, and my own soul was cast into peril by the pernicious Count Dracula. Eight years ago Quincy Morris, your namesake, gave his life to see the evil destroyed. Would that his sacrifice had not been in vain.

My dreams have become troubled, my sleep disturbed by visions of a castle in the Carpathian Mountains. I see a carriage with four black horses and smell the salt of the sea, and the awful tang of blood. I wrote to Professor Van Helsing at once when the dreams began, and he confirmed my fears: the Count is returned.

As the dreams continued, I awoke one night to find myself standing in the hall with Mr. Morris's old knife in one hand. I knew not what mischief I might have wrought had I not awoken when I did, nor did I have any longing to learn. I packed my things, kissed you and Jonathan good-bye, and departed that morning to visit Arthur - Lord Godalming - in the country. Doctor Seward and Van Helsing arrived soon after, and we hunters of the Vampire were thus reunited. Only Jonathan remained, staying with you, my son, to keep you safe.

My son, we do not know where Dracula makes his lair, nor do we know his ultimate goal, except that it is evil and a grave peril to all the world. He lives despite our efforts, and his revenge will be terrible indeed.

Jonathan's instructions are to give you this letter in the event of my death, when you are old enough. I hope that you never read these words. I hope that I will come home to you. But I fear that none of us may survive the fury of Dracula.

With Love,

Your mother, Mina

-Letter from Mina Harker, to her son, Quincey, 1898





