Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to Nocturnal Transmissions, the fortnightly podcast that brings you dark tales both old and new, performed by your humble narrator, Kristen Holland.

Now, the more perceptive among you will have noticed that we've been indulging quite a number of

listener requests in recent times.

The thing on the doorstep, the dance of the hanged men, the kit bag, the crystal egg,

all stories are an Anzis. These were all requested by beloved patrons.

Now, as much as we love indulging you, our cherished listenership,

we feel it's time to present a story that, not to put too fine a point on it,

we wish to request.

Our humble narrator has had his beady little eye on this episode's selected tale ever since the humble beginnings of our pernicious podcast.

However, he has only just now worked up the gumption to tackle it.

We're talking about Bram Stoker's monument of a novel.

Dracula. Dracula.

Now put away your smelling salts, gentle listener.

He doesn't intend to perform the entire thing.

Just the part of the novel that he obsesses over. The part which in our humble narrator's opinion is

quite simply the best part. Jonathan Harker, first meeting. The Count.

Cast your mind back to Franz Murnau's 1922 silent film presentation of the story, entitled Nospheratu, or Werner Herzog's magnificent 1979 remake of the same, or even Francis Ford Coppola's gaudy adaptation from 1992, and of course, Bram Stoker's novel itself, there is one interaction that stands out as the most suspenseful, frightening, and deliciously entertaining interaction in the whole narrative.

At least that's what we think.

Oh, gentlelistener, we here at nocturnal transmissions do love it so.

So, here's what we're going to do.

Let's jump in right at the start of the novel.

As you may recall, the whole great epistolary tale begins with Jonathan Harker's journal,

...