1 November, Cardiff, early – Oh, what a night it has been. The Count has eluded us once more, but we are close, I can feel it in my bones.
I watch as Mina tosses and turns in her sleep. Her face is flushed, and her brow feverish on my lips when I kiss her. She murmurs at my touch before returning to her fitful slumbers. Of the terrors occupying her dreams, I know not.
The night began quietly until what some call the “witching hour”. Emerging from the direction of Sophia Gardens at speed, I was nearly upended by a young man, his face white as a ghost and his voice trembling with fear. After calming the poor fellow, I determined that the cause of his distress was a ferocious beast roaming Pontcanna Fields. My interest peaked, I set off at once to investigate, leaving the man in calmer spirits. The howls of the beast cut eerily across the park, guiding me to its location. Its monstrous shadow loomed before me in the moonlight as I cornered it, its snarls and growls reaching a crescendo. Slippery as a snake, it made its escape when I made to capture it, back to its den, I suspect, as no further sound of it was heard.