Van Helsing – The Heir of the Damned


Chapter 1

It was late in the hours, the air was bitter and cold, and flakes of snow continued to dance lazily in the air under the light of a crescent moon that sailed majestically amongst the rolling clouds above Transylvania. The cobbled streets of snow were deserted; all peasants were locked firmly inside, as they were on most nights to avoid the flying brides of Dracula.

A young boy leant on his window-sill, watching Dracula's castle at the top of the hill. His shutters were gently open, allowing his face to peer out into the cold night air. This was lethal for the village.. for the light of the gas lamps at windows could be seen for miles.. and be seen by Dracula and his brides. But this boy was not the wisest of humankind, why, he was only around his thirteenth year of life.

He made a sharp inhale as a knock came upon his bedroom door. His head sharply spun to glare at the old door, the light of his gas lamp flickering it's light eerily over from the corner of the room. A female voice called through, "Benden? Are you asleep?"

The boy called Benden stayed deadly silent, allowing his mother to assume he was indeed asleep. He heard the footsteps quietly retreat from his room. No doubt she'd be back soon to check.. to sickeningly check he was still alive. For that was the curse of the villagers in Transylvania, people were murdered in the night..

He turned his head back to look out across the land of Transylvania, studying the castle that was famously known as inaccessible, and the secret entrance that was rumoured was indeed kept a secret, only the Valerious family had ever managed to come close.. But now, someone had, and they were in there. Benden watched, astonished at the fact that someone had managed to enter. He then gasped, eyes catching a terrorizing bolt of electricity crash down upon one of the towers. A cry shuddered the night air from the building.. Benden felt his back suddenly run cold with shivers.

He watched in awe as he saw figures leaping from the towers, lightening bolts making a spectacular display. The top of one tower exploded as electricity crackled around it. Screams could be heard. Then.. a terrorized roaring. Benden's damp palms gripped his stone ledge as he leaned out, the only human witnessing the battle at Dracula's castle.

But what was happening? Who was conquering Dracula?

The sky roared and trashed with lightening, thunder rumbling and wind haphazardly tearing snow in his face. He was holding his breath, he couldn't speak, or blink, not tear his eyes off Dracula's castle, where somebody was risking everything for the people of Transylvania.

Then, the lightening subdued and a chilling howl echoed through the village. It was a final howl, or sorrow and anger. The animalistic howl transformed into the cry of heartache, before it faded away into the snowy mountains.

Benden gasped softly as the sky began to lighten, and stars appeared for the first time in centuries. Dracula's castle suddenly lit up with the glow of ice and snow as it was revealed for it's true and once hidden form. He closed his shutters, turning away from the window.

Dracula had been murdered..

Only a few hours had passed, and Benden lay awake in his bed, staring at his ceiling, watching a crack that had developed long ago. He sighed softly and rolled over, sleep was impossible. But it was usually because of fear. His head snapped up as he heard his door creak open, a panicked breath was gasped before he saw the face of his mother peer round to him, "Benden? Why aren't you asleep dear?" She asked, her voice smoothly spoken by her Romanian accent.

"Mother.." He began before galloping hooves from the cobbled street below caused both he and his mother to stiffen.

"It's him!" Gasped the woman, running over to the window and dragged open the shutters noisily, "The one from Paris!" Benden quickly joined his mother's side, they both stared down into the street where two horses now trotted loudly. One seated the leather cladded man from the West, the other, his associate, the Monk.

The mother of Benden made a startled gasp, and her hand reached to her chest as she caught the sight of Princess Anna's dead body in front of the hero.

"VAN HELSING!!!" Screamed a voice from opposite the street, "YOU MURDERER!"

The man on the horseback lowered his head gently as the words were cried that so often met his ears. For he was unknown and feared. His reputations of killings were all that came with his name.

As far as Transylvania was concerned, Van Helsing was no hero.

Except, for Benden Freiton.
I loved the Van Helsing movie; I hope I can do a good fic for it! Did you like this introduction?