A Love Unrequited

Life had been unkind to R. M. Renfield. Many failed business endeavours and unsuccessful courtships and stripped away his confidence and sense of self-worth. These defeats, he knew, were the reason he ended up in the care of Dr Seward at the Carfax Asylum.

John Seward was a kind man, and his work with Renfield inspired in him hope for a future. But, at the age of 59, Renfield was aware he had already surpassed the life expectancy of 1897 by seventeen years. To ensure he was able to see his dreams achieved, Renfield’s thoughts turned to ways in which he could extend his remaining years.

And thus he began to devour live creatures, believing their life essence would be transferred unto him and grant him more time on Earth. He started with the beasts readily available in his cell; spiders and flies. Occasionally, when his reflexes were quick enough, he could reach through the bars of his open window and snatch a bird from the air.

The variety of Renfield’s diet was improved when the foreigner entered his life. His new friend would send a great range of insects to his cell, providing Renfield’s palate with new delicacies.

Though repulsed by his eating habits, Renfield knew that it was worthwhile when he was introduced to the most beautiful woman ever to grace the planet. A friend of Dr Seward’s romantic interest, Wilhelmina Harker visited the hospital with her husband and several other men. Renfield spied her through his cell door and was instantly smitten.

Her face was that of an angel, soft and glowing. Her delicate frame spoke of her need to be protected and loved. Dark circles around her eyes hinted of nights of sleeplessness, a sign that she was troubled.

Renfield knew that he could ease Wilhelmina’s woes, that he would quell her fears and grant her a peaceful rest. All he needed to do was break free and confront her; their love would do the rest.

And so, Renfield set about escaping the asylum. Day after day, hour after hour, he pulled on the bars at the window, loosening them by imperceptible degrees. He stopped only to attend interviews with Dr Seward and his new-fangled phonograph, to eat the meals sent by his mysterious benefactor or to gaze with longing whenever Wilhelmina was near.

In less than a fortnight, Renfield had freed two of the bars. Two days later, the rest followed and he was able wriggle through the opening and flee Carfax.

Hiding out in the cemetery beside the mental asylum, Renfield waited until Wilhelmina’s next visit then followed the carriage back to the Harker’s home. He waited until night had fallen before forcing his way in and creeping through the house.

In the bedchamber, he found couple lying together in their marital bed. Incensed, Renfield felt an overwhelming urge to take a candlestick from the dresser and dash Jonathan’s head to a pulp. He resisted, knowing that the time spent despatching his rival would be better spent in Wilhelmina’s company.

Peeling the covers from her sleeping form (and averting his eyes from her nightgown), Renfield carefully lifted his love and carried her to the drawing room. He gently placed her on the chaise lounge, draped an embroidered throw over her and pulled a chair closer.

Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, hypnotising him in wonderment. Her lips trembled as her breath was softly expelled.

He could not say how much time passed before she stirred. Her eyelids fluttered twice, and flicked open to reveal beautiful sapphire seas behind them. She stared at him and he felt the powerful emotion in that look.

This was it, Renfield knew. This was the moment he would reveal his love for her and they could begin a new life together. No more would she need to pretend affection to the man upstairs. No longer would Renfield’s days be devoid of light or joy. All he had to do was choose the perfect words.

But his mouth was dry, his throat constricted. His belly quivered and danced, nervous and giddy and excited. Fear and doubt roiled in his gizzards like a turbulent ocean.

For the first time in his life, Renfield experienced butterflies in his stomach…

…and regretted his breakfast of caterpillars.