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Chapter 1:
Bistritz — Left Munich at 8:35 P.M. on May 1st, arriving at Vienna early the next morning. I should have arrived at 6:46 but my flight was late. There are 6,000 night clubs in Munich, and I suspect the pilot’s visit to each caused my delay.
Budapest seems like a wonderful place … from the glimpse I got at 35,000 feet. I feared to go far from the airport when I arrived. I was late getting there, and the connecting flight was already boarding. Harker Luck.
This was for the best. The sight of the local Children’s Railway sends me into maniacal fits of terror whenever it comes by. Nothing that colorful should be allowed to ride the rails!
The impression I had, once safely in the air, was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; flying over splendid bridges over the Danube and that infernal railway, which took us among the traditions of Turkish rule. We left in decent time, and arrived after nightfall in Cluj, which I think is pronounced “Cujo”. That would explain the St. Bernards roaming the streets.
I stopped for the night at Cluj’s Casino Royale. As a Jimmy Bond fan, I had to. I ate a tasty chicken done up some way with red pepper. Very good but hotter than the fifth circle of Hell. The one inhabited by mole people who shovel your good thoughts into the toilet while you’re sleeping.
The waiter served me a mug of Body Beer and an exotic meal. I asked the waiter what I was eating, and he said, “Paprika Hendl, a national dish!” This would explain the breath of the local color.
“You should be able to get it anywhere along the Carpathians.”
I replied, “Do they also sell Altoids in the Carpathians?”
My smattering of Klingon has proven useful here, Romanian falling out of favor after the loss of Internet during the most recent zombie uprising.
Fortunately, some enterprising Russians decided to unload their warehouses filled with Klingon for the Galactic Traveler and flooded Eastern Europe with them after the threat was contained.
I’m told there are not many Zombies left, and they’re more of a nuisance than anything else. The people here handle zombies the way Americans handle wasps … but with bullets.
Having some free time while at work in Manhattan, I googled Transylvania; it had struck me that some knowledge of the country, and quality time with Wikipedia, could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a famed business executive.
I now know CEO Dracula is the store manager for Eastern Europe’s largest Kay’s Kitten Kaboodle. He purchased the franchise from its former owner, Yankees announcer Michael Kay, and he finds Dilbert funny.
I also found the district the people named for the Count is in the extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Elbonia, and Latveria, in the midst of the Carpathian mountains. The Carpathians are one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe except when it comes to the accursed Richards and his team of adventurers.
I was not able get the exact locality of the Count’s home as there are no maps of this country online; but I found that Bistritz, the post town named for him, is known for being a location in the game Shadow Hearts. Beyond that the book of fame is pretty thin.
In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct nationalities: Saxons in the South, and mixed with them the Wallachs, who are the descendants of the Dacians; Hatfields in the West, and McCoys in the East and North.
I am going among the latter, who claim to be descended from Attila and the Huns, which is kind of improbable, but Wikipedia has yet to steer me wrong.
Finally, I read every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the center of a creepy imaginative whirlpool. I hope it’s true, I’ve always wanted to fuck a ghost!
- John Harker
(FYI: Despite what you might have heard, I do not flash my knife at children.)
