Free Trapped in Transylvania by Tony Abbott Page A

that Van Helsing had been waiting for this moment since he first stepped into this book. He stuck his hands in his pockets and began to stomp back and forth in front of us dramatically.
    â€œVampires!” he began. “What can we say of them?”
    â€œThey have fangs,” I said.
    â€œThey dress in total black,” said Frankie.
    â€œThey live in dusty castles,” said Harker.
    â€œAnd more much!” said the professor, raising his finger. “Vampires have been wherever people are. In old Greece, Rome, Germany, France, India, and China—”
    â€œHow about the U.S.?” Frankie whispered to me.
    â€œAlso there!” Van Helsing said.
    â€œYeah?” Quincey snorted. “Over my dead body!”
    â€œNow listen of my words,” the professor resumed. “The vampire dies without dying. He grows younger when he has fed on the lives of the living. Ya, also, he throws no shadow on the ground. He make in the mirror no reflect of himself. He can be wolf or dog or bat or bird. Being undead he only become stronger and stronger, with more power to work his evil wickedness on the world. Dracula is now as strong as twenty men. He can command the dead. Also the rat, the owl, the bat, the moth, the flea, the spider, and the wolf. He can become them and also grow or become small. He at times vanish himself and become unknown!”
    â€œSo, he’s pretty much invincible?” I asked.
    â€œAh, no!” the professor went on. “He can do all these things, but he is free not. He may not enter where his invitation is not. His power stops at break of day. If sunlight is on him, it does not tan him. It burns him up! A wooden stake piercing his heart will kill him, poof! And Dracula needs a coffin of evil dirt from his foul castle to sleep every night!”
    â€œThat explains why his coat is always so dirty, but why does he need fifty boxes of the stuff?” I asked. “Why not just one?”
    Van Helsing let out a little smile from under his puffy mustache. “Ah, can we not all guess why Dracula needs fifty such dirt boxes?”
    I raised my hand. “Because even though he’s a Count he can’t count?”
    Van Helsing shook his head.
    â€œBecause he’s evil, bad-evil?”
    He nodded. “Ya! But no!”
    â€œOoh!” said Frankie. “For when he takes road trips?”
    â€œMaybe ya, but no.…”
    I gasped. “Because he’s building an army! An army of vampires! And the dirt is for their slumber parties!”
    â€œYA!” Van Helsing exploded, stomping his foot joyfully. “You have hit the nail on its hat!”
    â€œBut how will we trap him?” Godalming asked.
    The professor twirled on his heels. “We destroy him with the stake of wood! Pfft! In his heart. Kapushhh , he turn to dust!”
    â€œCount me in, Professor,” said Morris. “I’m itchin’ for a fight with this varmint.”
    â€œI am with you, too, Professor,” said Godalming. “For Lucy’s sake. This Dracula grows more evil every hour.”
    â€œMore than much!” Van Helsing exploded. “That is why the vampire must be destroyed! But first, we find his where!”
    â€œHis what?” Harker asked.
    â€œNot his what—his where! We must find where is his where!”
    â€œWhere is his what?” said Harker.
    â€œWhat will he wear?” said Morris.
    Suddenly, there was a crashing sound and the window shattered into bits. A dark furry shape dove into the room, flapping thick black wings.
    â€œA bat!” said Dr. Seward. “Could it be—?”
    Mina, who had been fairly quiet so far, screamed. “Out! Out! You terrible ugly thing!” She rushed to the bat and struck at it wildly. She pulled her hand away quickly and the bat flew back out the window and away across the lawn to Carfax next door.
    Harker rushed to his wife. “Mina, you are