Hey guys, this is a short story I've been working on for a while that's set several years before Van Helsing when Anna is still growing up. I took the idea from Kevin Ryan's novelisation of the movie in which there is a scene where the village go out on a werewolf hunt but Anna is forbidden to go because she is too young; though she sneaks out anyway with almost disastrous consequences. This scene is unfortunately not in the movie.
In this story however, after much begging Anna is finally allowed to join the adults on the werewolf hunt, though they are still very protective of her; the werewolves however, have other ideas, and through all this Anna must prove to her family that she is no longer a child but a warrior.
This story is split in two as it's a little long to be posted in a single chapter. I would again like to dedicate this story to my BETA Nienna who has worked very hard editing this - hats off to you hon!
Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing; the movie or the novelisation, though I have included a couple of lines from the scene in the novel; if anyone would like me to put them in italics let me know and I will do.
Cry Wolf Part One
"Boris please, do not take her just yet."
"You let Velkan go when he was fourteen, why not Anna?"
Anna moved stealthily closer to the banister and peered over, relishing in the way which her ability to do this had improved over the last few months. Her mother was still offering excuses, but her father's face was determined.
"With Velkan it was different, he was a man at that age but Anna, she -,"
"She is ready my love and you know it; you've known it for months - she's not a child any longer." Anna grinned in triumph; he had given his final word, and by the end of the night her mother would be proud of her, as proud as she had been last time when Velkan had returned, pale and exhausted, but jubilant after his first kill.
Satisfied that her place in the hunt was assured, Anna slipped away from the stairs and into her room to change into her riding clothes; all black to give her cover in the darkness. Once she was ready she paced the room excitedly, unable to stand still. She had been begging her father to allow her to come ever since he began teaching her how to wield a sword. Her begging had become more and more passionate in the last two years since her brother had been allowed to go. The Valerious family had been leading the werewolf hunt every full moon for four centuries, protecting the village of Vaseria from the terrible curse of the werewolf, and finally Anna would take her place among them.
A door banged downstairs and the sound of many voices floated up to her room. She ran eagerly to the landing and looked over the banister. Yes, the village men who would make up the rest of the hunt were congregated below her. Boris was still talking with his wife, although they were no longer arguing and she merely looked resigned. Anna caught the tail end of their conversation as she slipped downstairs.
"She is wilful darling, she gets that from her father," Boris commented, and Anna felt a quick burst of pride, though her conscience pricked when she noticed how her mother's face had fallen at these words. For as long as the hunting party had gone out, her mother always retired to her room, though Anna knew that she always paced the floor anxiously until they returned safely. She laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Just take care of her," she murmured, and went back upstairs.
"Come Anna, we need to get you some weapons." Her father motioned her towards the armoury. Four centuries of weaponry was housed here, from sabres and scimitars to maces and spears. Her father was leading her right to the back of the room to a cabinet that stood by itself. Anna had rarely seen this open; the weapons within were the pride of the Valerious family and her father possessed the only key, which he was now drawing from his pocket. Nestled on a bed of velvet inside were two daggers and a revolver, all made from pure silver. Though swords and ordinary bullets could injure a werewolf, nothing else the hunt had would be able to kill them.
Boris took a dagger and handed it to Anna who slipped it into her belt while he headed to the nearby sword cabinet. She felt her heart sink when he reached for a short sword.
"But Papa," she protested, "Velkan uses one of the sabres to hunt, why not me?" She would be damned if she let her brother see her with a sword meant for a child.
"Velkan is sixteen and is taller and stronger than you. He can wield a sabre with far more ease than you could," Boris replied.
Anna was ready to say that, though Velkan was taller, she was just as strong and ready for an adult's sword, but Boris' gaze hardened. Anna took the sword from him wordlessly, buckling it around her waist; a look like that from her father gave no room for argument. Boris nodded in approval and handed her some throwing stars, then sent her back to the hall while he collected his weapons.
Her eyes fell on Velkan while she waited near the armoury door, and she found herself looking him over, remembering both her parents' comments about the way he had aged. Years ago he had been her companion in their childish games, and though she would never have admitted it she had sorely missed his company when he had claimed he was too old for such pursuits. He was the taller now where they had once been of a height. His voice had deepened in recent years, his shoulders had broadened, and the boyish roundness had vanished from his cheeks and chin. Anna had seen several of the village girls staring after him, and she supposed that to some he could be considered very handsome. Her father certainly regarded him as an equal, and even sought him out to consult him about defending their village against the darkness that threatened it. To him however she was still a mere child.
Velkan looked up then, and seeing her staring beckoned her over. Before she could move however the door beside her opened and their father emerged. His belt was bristling with weapons including the critical silver revolver.
"Come my friends," he called, "it is time to leave."
The roar of voices in the room fell to a hush at his words, and the company lit their torches and began to file out of the door. Bright moonlight illuminated the village square; on most nights it was flooded with light and ringing with laughter from the tavern, tonight however it was deserted and silent, the people shut tightly in their homes until the moon set. They passed through the town as quickly as they could and headed towards the fields, beyond which lay the forest. The werewolves had always appeared from there when the moon was full, and her father had guessed that Dracula's lair lay in this direction.
When the town was left behind Velkan fell into step beside her, and Anna noted that his face - lit up by the torch he carried - was marred with irritation.
"What is it?" she asked with a confused frown; out of all the hunting-party Velkan was usually the most excited for a good hunt - her father often joked that he seemed to thrive off the danger.
"Nothing," he said shortly, "father asked me to keep an eye on you tonight."
Anna's heart sank; did her brother regard her as incapable too?
"I can take care of myself," she muttered icily.
Velkan shrugged. "Be that as it may, it is your first hunt and father wants you kept away from most of the fighting –,"
"What?" she interrupted, "But I have to fight!"
"Not tonight you don't," said Velkan firmly.
Anna folded her arms resolutely across her chest; determined not to let this lie. After all, Velkan had certainly fought on his first hunt; fought and killed too! How was she to prove herself if they would not let her fight? Her brother held up a hand in protest. "There's no need to look like that Anna, I'm as unhappy about it as you are; I won't be able to fight myself if I have to look after you -,"
"Then don't!" Anna's cry was loud enough to have her father and several other members of the hunt glance behind them, and she hastily lowered her voice. "If you want to fight Velkan do it – I don't need you to watch me like a child – I -," Anna's voice cracked, and tears of rage at the injustice of it all pricked her eyelids, though she hastily blinked them away, unwilling to let her brother see her cry. Velkan seemed to notice her state, for the next time he spoke his tone was gentler.
"Look, Anna - it isn't that I don't think you can fight, I trained with you so I've seen that you can, but father had all those plans to track Dracula's lair down, destroy him and his servants before you ever had to do what we're about to do…"
Velkan fell silent, and Anna, whose heart had leapt when he had said that he thought her capable, sank again. She could well remember her father returning from all those trips through the mountains, as well as afterwards where he had stood silent and pensive for hours on end before the painting in their hallway. His increasing dispiritedness had made Anna even more determined to help, to make him proud of her.
The company had almost come upon the fields by the time her brother spoke again.
"I've seen how dangerous it can be out here, and neither I nor father would want anything to happen to you," he finished. The light beside Anna dimmed, and looking up she noticed that Velkan, believing that he had made his point, was heading back to join her father. She sighed; would they never understand? They wanted to protect her as though she was a small child, but she was strong, and good with a sword – almost as good as her brother, but still they treated her like a baby. Well tonight they would see.
When they finally entered the fields Anna was shocked by the silence. There were none of the usual night-time sounds there; not even the chirping of the crickets. She knew there could only be one reason for that; an unnatural predator at work that was feared by all others. Anna placed a hand on the hilt of her sword and made herself recall her father's words. The werewolves had to be prevented from reaching the edge of the trees, and it was the goal of the hunting party to deter them; for a werewolf during a full moon would be so crazed for fresh meat that it would distinguish neither beast from man. The hunt would act as bait, luring the werewolves to them before they could harm anyone in the village.
A twig suddenly snapped under Anna's foot; shattering the unearthly silence. Then a great howl echoed across the clearing as though in answer; the unmistakable call of a werewolf. A chill went down Anna's spine, remembering how as a child when she had heard it she would bury her face into her mother's arms.
They continued on their way to the trees, and before long Anna heard the low hiss of two people talking in low but urgent voices. She looked up and realised that it was her father and brother who were speaking, though they were too far ahead of her for her to be able to discern what they said. She edged closer to them.
"I don't like this father – it isn't right," Velkan murmured, "Clouds like that should take hours to gather…" Anna frowned; what clouds? The night had been clear when they left. She glanced up and nearly gasped; the bright full moon was in danger of being obscured by dense cloudbanks, tinged with yellow. Snow clouds.
"If there is a snow-storm while we are in there they will be much harder for us to trace," her brother continued, "and they will have no difficulty finding us – we could be leading the hunt right into danger."
"I am aware of that, but a storm like that will mean nothing to the werewolves – they will come to the village just the same. We cannot leave it undefended." Several other members of the hunt had noticed the snow-clouds and were muttering darkly to one another. Boris sighed. "We have no choice but to continue, Velkan."
"But father –,"
"Quiet," he muttered, and nodded in front of them; they had almost reached the edge of the trees, and there could be no more talk unless absolutely necessary.
Boris halted the company before motioning them to draw their weapons, and as Anna took her dagger from its sheath she noticed several snowflakes already starting to settle on her sleeve. She brushed them away with one hand as she walked up to join her family; they were the only ones with silver weapons and so would lead the hunt in the hopes that the revolver or the throwing daggers would be able to finish a werewolf before it came close enough to attack. Two riflemen would come close behind them with another two guarding the remainder of the hunt at the rear. If they were careful enough to stay upwind of the werewolves so they did not catch their scent, they would be able to take them by surprise.
Her father glanced up at her as she joined him.
"You may lead with us until we get to that clearing, but after you will stay behind the riflemen."
"But -,"
"Do not argue," said her father firmly. Anna sighed and turned away, watching as the company's torch-bearers put out their burdens and laid them against the trees to be collected later; for on this part of the hunt it was important to be as invisible as possible. When they were ready her father drew his revolver and levelled it before him, then led them off into the trees, the remainder of the hunt following closely behind.
Anna concentrated on keeping her tread as light as she could while they trudged on; the forest was as silent as the fields had been. Snowflakes were starting to settle on the path ahead of them, but for the moment they were few, and it seemed as though it might remain so for a while; perhaps the storm would not hit until the hunt was over. As they walked, Anna found that she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched, and though she stared fiercely through the snowflakes, without the torches the darkness was so complete that she could see nothing. They were heading along one of the main forest paths that Anna knew would eventually bring them to a clearing containing the sacrificial post. Centuries ago the villagers had left animals or even humans here as tribute to the werewolves, and her family had seen how this ancient tradition could come in useful – the clearing was defensible space and where the creatures could be lured and killed quickly.
After a quarter of an hour the snowflakes were falling thicker, and a thin carpet of snow had formed on the ground that muffled any sound that they made. Anna trudged close beside her father, watching as Boris' face grew graver as time wore on and the dancing snowflakes fell harder and faster. By the time they were closing in on the clearing the air was thick with whirling flakes and the path had vanished completely under an untouched blanket of snow. Even to Anna - who knew the forest well - the landscape around her had grown almost unrecognisable, and though she knew that her father could lead them blindfold, her stomach had grown tight with apprehension.
The company was closing in on the clearing, and Anna was shuffling along as best she could beside her father, her face turned to the ground so her eyes would stay clear from snowflakes. Suddenly she was drawn to something on the path just ahead of them. The absence of any animal presence tonight had kept the fallen snow free from tracks, but a few feet in front of them the ground had been disturbed. Anna felt the knots in her stomach tighten as she peered closer; animal prints ran from one side of the trail to the other; far too large to be those of any normal wolf.
"Father!" she hissed, tugging at his sleeve. Boris turned to her and started when he ran his eye along her pointing finger. He had realised two things; the source of the prints and that they were fresh as the falling snow had not yet covered them. Whatever had made them was therefore still close by. He whirled around to face the company and gave his orders in sharp but hushed tones. They halted and moved into a defensive formation with the riflemen at the edges and the remainder of the hunt, armed with swords and knives, in the centre; for in weather such as this they could not afford to take any chances. Boris, under the guard of a rifleman, went forward to read the prints. The waiting hunt remained still and absolutely silent; for werewolves were large animals that could often be heard long before they were seen. Anna strained to listen with the rest of them; but the falling snow still muffled any noises.
After several moments of stooping close to the prints to examine them Boris rose and cocked his revolver. Anna took a step towards him, peering through the snowflakes to see if he had spied anything, and her brother's hand had just closed on her arm to draw her back when a grey shape dived from the bushes before them in a shower of snow and slammed her father into the ground. Anna stood gaping at the first werewolf she had ever seen up close, but was startled back to life when the rifleman closest to her fired. The wolf reared up; standing at its full height of seven feet and roared. Boris flew up from underneath it and drew his sword; the shot had done its work of distracting the wolf from her father, but now it swept past Anna and hurled itself at the rifleman who had fired. Instantly the rest of the hunt submerged on it, trying to subdue it with their swords and clubs, but Anna knew that these would do little more than anger it, and they were gathered too closely for her to risk throwing her dagger. She drew her sword and was about to join them when Boris' hand closed around her arm and pulled her back. She almost sighed in relief when he ran past her, if he could get close enough his shot could dispatch the wolf before it harmed any of the men, but when she glanced at his hand her hope vanished, for the silver revolver had been knocked from it when the werewolf struck.
Velkan must have seen the understanding flicker in her eyes, for he shoved her towards the spot where it had first appeared.
"Find it Anna; for God's sake find it!"
She turned her back on the chaos behind her and ran; praying that the gun had not yet been covered by the falling flakes. She peered around the spot and found nothing, then dashed to the edge of the path and began to scrabble through the snow Boris' struggle had disturbed. Shots rang out behind her immediately followed by roars from the werewolf, but she ignored them and continued to search. When she could find nothing she risked a quick glance behind her; most of the hunt were gathered closely around the wolf, but several were already down and lying in the snow at its feet. As she watched the wolf gave one swipe of its great claws and effortlessly tossed a swordsman across the path to where she knelt, and a crimson stain spread slowly through the snow where he had fallen. Anna gulped and drawing her sword she hacked at the undergrowth at the side of the path until she had a way through; perhaps the revolver had been knocked away from the path.
Anna shoved bushes and branches aside and peered under them, searching desperately, and drew a deep breath when she saw a flash of silver. She groped frantically in the snow for a moment and emerged triumphant with her father's revolver. Praying that its priming had not become too waterlogged for it to fire she whirled around to dash back through the bushes, but before she could run something struck her on the side of the head, and she knew no more.
.:I:.
Sorry to leave it there guys, but Part Two will be up next week. Please read and review, as I really like to recieve feedback on my work, especially concrit.