Disclaimer: I don't own Goosebumps; it is the sole property of R.L. Stine and Scholastic Books. Original Characters are of my own design.

A/N: This is a spin-off of Full Moon High, an amazing story written by the o so talented author, Stone-Man85. You rock man :).

This intro for my spin-off story of Full Moon High, Full Moon Nights. I will be publishing it along with chapter 1.

Please forgive any writing or spelling errors. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy. :D :D

Note:

Spoken – Words spoken in Romanian.

[Translate] – English translation

Full Moon Nights

Intro: Memories of Darkness

The black-haired boy stood still on the cold ground, his head rested on a rock. Images flashed through his mind: demonic and angelic creatures, a sward being brought down, a man being stabbed in the chest. The boy clenched his teeth, and tried to get up, only to grunt in agony, clenching the bleeding hole in his stomach.

"Is this... really the end?" the boy asked himself, as he coughed blood.

"No. It... cannot end. Not 'cough' ... not yet. I must live... to avenge 'cough' ..."

The boy once again tried to get up, but blood gashed from the wound in his abdomen and from his mouth, and he fell down weakly. His vision started to blur.

"No... plies... 'cough'." the boy begged, clenching a dark metal-like crucifix in his left hand. "Plies... give me... another chance 'cough'. I'm not... ready... to die..."

"Father, over here!" shouted a female voice, with a Romanian accent.

The boy turned towards the source of the voice, and saw two silhouettes heading towards him. One was taller, a black cloak covering his body. The other was small and slim, and from her voice, she was obviously a girl. The taller of the two bent down, examining the boy's wounds.

"Nu e bine. [Not good.]" whispered the figure in Romanian, before turning his daughter, and saying, in a deep Transylvanian accent:

"His wounds are fatal. There is no treatment for him."

The girl hanged her head in sadness, until a thought came to her, and, looking at her father with hope, she said:

"No human treatment, you mean."

The man shook his head.

"We can't just go ahead and turn anyone who..."

But just then, the dying boy grabbed the cloaked man's arm, and whispered weakly:

"Te rog... vreau... sa traiesc. [Plies... I want... to live.]"

Both the man and the girl where amazed that the boy was conscious, let alone able to speak. The man bent down, so the boy could hear him better:

"Boy... I can save you, but you will no longer be human. Are you ready to give that up."

The boy looked deep into the man's eyes, giving a small smile and a week nod. The man nodded back, and leaned down to the boy's year, whispering:

"Asta... o sa doara. [This... will hurt.]"

The boy then closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he felt some sort of liquid dripping in his mouth. Not arguing, he quickly swallowed. Suddenly, he felt an immense surge of pain, and opened his eyes. He saw the man's arm bleeding, blood dripping to the side, and he finally realized what he had drunk. But before anything else could happen, he felt another surge of pain, greater than any he had ever felt, and he screamed in agony. And then...

He woke up.

Slowly sitting up in the large bed, the boy looked around the large and luxurious room he was sleeping in. He took a moment to process what had happened.

"A dream?" he thought out loud.

Then, he felt something drip from his eyes, and down his face, as if he was crying. Wiping it away, he saw it was blood. He stared at it for a few moments, before closing his hand.

"No." he thought again. "Not a dream. Memories."

He then turned his head, looking at the bright moon that shone through the window.

He slowly got up, and walked to the window, opened a set of double doors, leading to a wide balcony. It offered a splendid view of the brightly lit city in the distance. A cool breeze entered the room as he stepped onto the balcony and, leaning on its edge, looked up at the full moon. The celestial body was giving of a bright light, illuminating the boy's face, revealing that he had pale skin, raven black hair and deep ruby red eyes. The eyes where eerie, able to unnerve even the bravest of souls, but also very deep, filled with grate knowledge, and, if one looked careful enough, grate sorrow. Based on his face and physical build, he looked no older than 18.

"Odd", he once again thought out load. "I haven't slept at night since...".

He stopped, deep in thought. He could not remember when he last let his conscious slip into the realm of dreams. It seemed so long ago. He opened his palm, the blood that had dripped from his eyes still fresh in its center.

The past months have been filled with bad events he had to sort out, and people he had to deal with. The activity of various individuals and factions had increased over the normal limit, something he found… disturbing. In addition, he had to sell some of his actions to various companies for legal and financial reasons. It had been very tiring.

He remembered the dream he had just woken up from, and closed his eyes, still deep in thought.

"Has it been..." he whispered, as he opened his red eyes, "... over 400 years already."

He stood for what seemed like hours, simply staring at the moon, contemplating his long and violent life... and then the phone rang.

He stood for a few moments, confused. He looked into the room, at the clock on his nightstand. It was a quarter past four. No normal person would call at this hour. So it was either someone who had the wrong number, a prankster... or someone who knew who he was. Or, more accurately, what he was.

He decided to risk it and answer. He entered the room, closing the doors to the balcony behind him. Stepping towards the ringing device, he lifted the receptor, and answered.

"Yes," he said in an emotionless voice.

"Hello Vali Ddraig. It's been a long time. Or should I say... Alucard."

The boy's eyes slightly widened, a mixture of confusion and surprise flashing on his face. But it only lasted a second, before he regained his emotionless composure. He spoke in a dark and firm, yet gentle voice:

"Hello Father Martin. It is good to hear your voice, after such a long time."

"The feeling is mutual, my friend. How have you been?" answered the priest.

"Fine." came the monotonous response.

"Really? One would think otherwise, considering you have completely disappeared for almost 6 months. What have you been doing anyway?"

"That is personal." Alucard answered in a slightly more firm tone.

"Of course it is." said the priest smiling on the other side of the line. But then he became serious.

"Listen Luke. I have information on The First Blood."

Alucard immediately became alert.

"Tell me." he said.

"There is this guy, Chris Nightshade. He's a vampire hunter."

Alucard was unfazed.

"And."

"Well, he lives in a nice house over on Rowe Street. Of course, he moved in after he got married to Helena, and they..."

"Helena Hellsing?" asked Alucard surprised. "He must be really good to be accepted in the family."

"I suppose he is." answered Martin "Anyway, they divorced some time ago. So now he lives with his daughter and..."

"Martin" said Alucard, annoyance and impatience present in his voice. "I do not care for your stories. What was the information you wanted to tell me?"

"Right, I forgot." commented Martin with pretended sadness. "You're not a good listener."

Alucard frowned at this, but said nothing. So Martin continued:

"Anyway, the thing is, Chris may have found the location of Ann's hideout."

Alucard paused for a second.

"Where?" he asked with rekindled interest.

"Don't know. You will have to ask him yourself."

"You want me to just walk in a hunter's house?" asked Alucard with skepticism.

"No, I expect you to knock first." said the priest, before starting to laugh.

"Hilarious," commented Alucard in a monotone voice. "His address?"

"Not now. I prefere to tell you in person. For... security reasons."

Alucard nodded in understanding. "I see. I shall pass by the church tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting," came the answer. Then, after a short hesitation, "Hei, you know... you should really get out more. You have been cooked up in that hunted house for months. Visit the city, go to parties... maybe even meet a girl. You know. Do normal stuff."

Alucard sighted, and closed his eyes. He almost looked sorry.

"I stopped being normal almost 400 years ago," he said "When I failed to die."

A short moment of silence than occurred. It was broken by Martin:

"So... I suppose we'll keep in touch?"

"Yes. I will contact you if I find something." answered Alucard. Then, after a short moment of hesitation, continued:

"It was good to hear from you Martin."

"And from you as well my friend. Take care"

"I always do." he answered, before ending the call.

He then walked to his nightstand, and picked up a cellphone. He dialed in a number, and waited. Soon someone answered.

"Hello Master Luke. What can I do for you tonight?"

"Salazar. You're awake." commented Alucard.

"As always." came the cheerful response from the other side of the line.

"Prepare my things. I'll be leaving at noon tomorrow."

"Is it going to be another one of those days?"

"Probably. I'm meeting a vampire hunter."

"Oh goody!" came yet another cheerful response. "I'll prepare an extra blood bag."

"You do that." said Alucard. "Meet me downstairs. I'll be there shortly."

"As you wish." answered Salazar, before continuing on a much more mischievous tone: "Sir." And then closed the phone.

Alucard gave an annoyed sigh. "La naiba Salazar. [Damn it Salazar.]" He than also closed the phone, an put it back on his nightstand.

Turning to the window one more time, he stared at the moon. He then faced at his empty bed, wondering if he could go to sleep again if he chose to. But he sighted in defeat, knowing the answer. Sometimes, he just wished he could sleep as humans do.