The Death We Hoped Would Kill (revised)
Chapter 1
It had been one year since the Cardinal for a new mission had called him back once more to the Vatican. It had been one year since he'd been promised the return of his memory at Dracula's death. It had been one year since he'd lost the only thing more precious to him than his past, and it had been one year more of lurid dreams and sleepless nights. And on one such night, Van Helsing awoke to violent banging on the door to his home. He had managed a good hour of dreamless sleep thanks to the medicinal treatment Carl had been experimenting with on him and wasn't happy at the prospect of ending the temporary peace he'd found.
Accepting the fact that the knocking wouldn't stop until he answered, Van Helsing swore and leapt out of bed furiously, dressed in nothing but the trousers he'd worn the night before. He nearly tore the locks from their wooden setting as he undid them and wrenched open the door, snarling.
"This better be good," he growled at the man who greeted him emotionlessly and immediately Van Helsing banged his head against the side of the door. He recognized the crimson, purple, and gold uniforms of the Vatican emissaries and watched the man uncap a tube at his belt to extract a small scroll with the papal seal at its heart.
"By his Most Reverent Hand—"
"Go fuck yourself." Van Helsing rumbled and the emissary trembled in surprise, but opened his mouth to continue. "Hard." The young man jumped and scurried away in complete terror and Van Helsing glared after him, tearing the seal with more vigor than was necessary and barely reading the contents. If he died before ever seeing the Vatican gates again, he'd die a happy man, memory or no.
He slammed the door shut and threw a log into the dwindling fire that roared jovially at the addition. Van Helsing smashed his body against a poorly upholstered chair and propped his feet on a wooden box containing his pistols, knives, and other weaponry. As he sunk his teeth into the cork of a half-empty absinthe bottle to pry it off, he stubbornly refused to acknowledge the part of him that reasoned well, this is what you live for … literally. He poured the strong liquid down his throat without so much as a shudder. Don't let it touch your tongue. The voice he'd forced himself to forget rang clearly in his brain and he threw the bottle into the fire, satisfied at the loud crash that resulted as it shattered.
The next morning he woke early, before dawn, and packed the few belongings he carried with him into two leather saddlebags. He paid the groggy innkeeper generously but the man was too asleep to notice he'd made twice his monthly wages off of the tenant who patted him thankfully on the back. Van Helsing stepped out into the cold wintry morning and found a saddled horse already waiting for him in the courtyard. As he secured the saddlebags and mounted, the innkeeper's daughter of barely seven summers ran up to him. He smiled under the shadow of night and lifted her up onto the saddle with him.
"You forgot your hat," she said breathlessly, her wide brown eyes still dull and laden with sleep. She plopped it firmly onto his head and gave him a kiss on his stubbly cheek. He looked at her shivering form and ruffled her hair gruffly before the emotion caught up with him, setting her back down on the frozen ground.
"Go back inside where it's warm," he told her and she backed away a few steps, yawning broadly. "I left something for you under the floorboard of my bedroom." Her eyes sparkled and she ran inside as Van Helsing spurred the horse forward into the night, the snow whipping his face as he galloped against the wind.
He reached the train station in Istanbul as the sun had just risen over the horizon, lighting the sky with a brilliant crimson fire. As he sat in the warm passenger car he'd paid for, he felt no curiosity, no interest towards whatever task Cardinal had found for he and Carl to accomplish. What are we hunting and how do I kill it? That's all he ever asked, until one year ago, that is. He'd asked lots of questions last year, and she'd answered them all. Van Helsing ran a warning hand through his hair to dispel the thoughts and closed his eyes. He'd be in Rome in eight hours.
When the train pulled into the terminal in Rome, Van Helsing was surprised to see Carl's face, pink from the winds of winter, waiting for him there. He threw a heavy saddlebag in his direction that the friar caught, body sinking slightly under the weight. Van Helsing laughed and walloped Carl on the back in greeting.
"I was hoping I'd never see you again, Carl," Van Helsing shouted over the rush of people hurrying to and from the locomotive. The friar looked up, hazel eyes gleaming sarcastically.
"Likewise," he replied as they climbed up the stairs to higher ground. "We've got a bit of a problem, Van Helsing. It's about Dracula." Carl laughed nervously as Van Helsing glared down at him in suspicion. "Well, it's the damndest thing …"
"Spit it out, Carl."
"Somebody found his body, exhumed it and brought it back to life and we're not sure where he's at or what he's up to but so far he's killed three people and a flock of sheep."
Van Helsing stopped walking and Carl had to double back to his side. "He's alive?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Carl whimpered, and Van Helsing swore so loudly and so offensively that half the station turned around and looked reproachfully in his direction. "You know, Van Helsing, your social skills could stand a bit of work." Van Helsing plunged towards the busy Roman streets leaving Carl stranded. "For example, storming off in the middle of a conversation…"
Carl rushed to catch up with Van Helsing who had already rented the services of a taxi-cab and threw his saddlebags inside, along with the one Carl carried once he'd caught up. "Son of a bitch," Van Helsing muttered angrily. "Stupid, non-dying son of a bitch."
"Yes, well that was very intelligent of you, well done," Carl sighed climbing into the cab that had already begun to depart from the side of the road. "Van Helsing, I don't have very much room to breathe with your bags crushing my esophagus …"
Ignoring him Van Helsing raged on. "Am I missing something? Am I missing something, Carl? Wasn't it an understanding that I kill the bad guys and the Order handles it from there? Hadn't that always worked out before? And now, because the Order screws things over, they call me in to clean up after them." He glanced over at Carl's bluish face and yanked a bag off of his chest.
"Look, I know this isn't the most advantageous of situations for you to be in, Van Helsing, but it's not so hunky-dory for me, either," Carl grumbled, slowly regaining his normal breathing patterns. Van Helsing was quiet for a moment and leaned his head back against the crude leather interior.
"You're right, I'm sorry," Van Helsing muttered and Carl almost fell out of his seat in surprise.
"You are?"
"Well, yeah…"
"Oh. Okay." Carl watched the huge majestic form of the Vatican slide into view and he was forced to admit the supreme masterwork of the architecture. "We're back," he said quietly.
Van Helsing slung a bag over his shoulder and Carl carried the other as they walked past the guards into the vast marble courtyard, scattering pigeons that huddled in gray masses that scavenged for scraps of bread. They climbed up the stairs to the main cathedral and Carl indicated that he'd be waiting below. Removing his hat, Van Helsing strode purposefully into the body of the great cathedral and locked himself in a confessional.
"Well, I'm here," he sighed and the screen slid up to reveal the Cardinal's rough, Italian features waiting for him on the other side. Van Helsing nodded his head. "Cardinal."
"We appreciate your alacrity. This matter is by no means to be taken lightly." The Cardinal stood and switched a secret lever that caused the wall behind Van Helsing to slide up, revealing a steep spiral staircase. "We hoped to find you in good health," the Cardinal called as Van Helsing followed him down the steps. They both knew the translation of the question to be 'We hoped to find you sober and not completely self-destroyed.'
"I've never felt more alive," Van Helsing responded dryly. I'm functioning, aren't I? They reached the foot of the stairs and Van Helsing's lips parted in surprise. The whole underground had changed. Not more than three or four souls wandered the floors, and all the equipment, maps, books, tools, were gone. Only the small corner of the room Carl used for his laboratory remained and it seemed to be smaller and more cramped than usual. "What happened here?"
"Rumors of Our existence reached the public," the Cardinal grimaced and descended the last few steps to the ground. "We were forced to relocate, to scatter. It, of course, has made things much more difficult at times like these." Van Helsing set his jaw and followed the Cardinal into the empty headquarters. "I assume you've been briefed on our situation?"
"Yeah, Carl filled me in," Van Helsing murmured and the Cardinal nodded in approval.
"Good, good. Well, let's get to work, then," he said, rubbing his hands together. "The world needs to be rid of this monster once and for all. However, all of our previously developed methods, everything you've been trained to know, learn, it all means nothing. We're dealing with something very much over our heads in this territory, and so we've brought someone in who knows more than we can hope to learn in the little time we have."
Van Helsing stopped as his eyes landed on the back of a woman working at a destitute little wooden table completely engulfed by papers, books, and parchment. He looked back at Cardinal in disbelief with an expression that clearly read you've got to be kidding me. Glaring at him warningly, Cardinal called the woman's name and she turned in her seat.
"Van Helsing, this Mrs. Harker," Cardinal said, bowing slightly in the woman's direction. "She's come to assist with Dracula's destruction. We're all extremely thankful she's volunteered her efforts."
Van Helsing glanced at the woman skeptically and cleared his throat.
"With all due respect, sir, I work better on my own," he said, avoiding the woman's eyes.
"You won't even notice I'm around," Mina interrupted with a quiet smile. "I work in complete discretion."
"See? I couldn't have found you a better partner, Van Helsing," Cardinal sighed, clapping his hands. "Now, the last location Dracula was sighted—"
"Partner?" Van Helsing repeated. "No, no, no. I only have one partner, Cardinal, and that's Carl. There are too many lives at stake with three."
"Which is why I've decided to take Carl off the field for this," the Cardinal barked impatiently, and Van Helsing began to interrupt. "It is done, Gabriel. Your partner is Mrs. Harker, and I need not remind you that she is now your responsibility as you are hers." He stared imperiously at them both and nodded. "Right, now let's get to work, shall we?"
Cardinal pulled down a yellowed sheet of screening paper from the ceiling and extinguished the lights. A photo reel spun a distorted image onto the screen that Van Helsing glared at with smoldering eyes. Next to him, Mina took out a small notebook and fountain pen, taking notes.
"The whereabouts of Dracula now are unclear," Cardinal began as Mina's pen scratched furiously across paper. "When you destroyed him, Van Helsing, no one thought to verify where his remains were to be buried. No one believed there was anyone left in this world that would want this creature alive, so to speak, again. This mistake may have cost us all our lives."
"Why? Can't we vanquish him like last time and just attach his to remains to a monk's belt for the rest of eternity?" Van Helsing asked wryly. Cardinal looked at him with a disapproving stare.
"No, I'm afraid not," he murmured, tapping the tips of his fingers together. "You see, he was destroyed on All Hallows Eve, the Day of the Dead."
Mina gasped, her pen clattering to the floor, but Van Helsing failed to make any connection.
"Why does that matter? Hundreds of people die in a single day, Halloween or not," he frowned. "It's just another day."
"If I may," Mina interrupted calmly, bowing her head respectfully at Cardinal who gestured for her to continue. "For the living who die on All Hallows Eve, it is just another day. But if one who is the Undead, the Nosferatu, dies a second death on All Hallows Eve, his body does not decay. Instead, it awaits reanimation, upon which it can be destroyed by nothing except his own blood that is fatal to him."
Van Helsing ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, letting the air whistle out between his teeth. "And when we destroyed him, we destroyed his wives and his children."
"The only carriers of the blood we need," Cardinal concluded glancing at Dracula's image. "And the only creatures that can produce more of the blood is another of his kind…another bride."
The room was quiet as the reel stuttered on its worn track and the Cardinal changed the slide to a map of Northern Turkey.
"There is only one option," Cardinal said slowly, getting to the core of his discussion with apparent disgust. "And that is to put an agent undercover as…as one of Dracula's brides."
He paused, looking grimly into each pair of eyes. "I think you can put the rest together."
The silence hung like a hangman's noose over them. It was so heavy, Van Helsing didn't notice Mina's hand tremble as she wrote, or the subtle glances from the Cardinal in her direction.
"There's no other way," Van Helsing finally agreed and the Cardinal hung his head. "But there's so much that could go wrong. The woman we send … what happens to here once she's bitten? Once she's given birth?"
Cardinal motioned to a monk hidden by shadow in the corner of the room who stepped forward. "This is Father Jerome Mulhaney. His branch of the Order in Budapest has developed an antidote, similar to wolfsbane, that can combat the vampirism if administered up to seven months after the bite."
"Seven moths?" Mina repeated softly, keeping her voice level. "Only seven months?"
"It's the most we've got," Cardinal sighed. "Father Mulhaney and his men are working day in and day out to develop the strength of the antidote, but there's no guarantee the woman will survive this task."
Mina held his gaze with darkened eyes, and Van Helsing watched her carefully. She stood up from her seat and paced across the stone floor, her brows knit in concentration. Mina paused in front of Father Mulhaney.
"You've a transfusion of vampiric blood, Father?" she asked, looking up at him. The monk nodded but frowned at her.
"Yes, but our supply is no where near the amount needed to be fatal to Dracula," Father Mulhaney began.
"Yes, of course," Mina murmured hurriedly, "But could I access the transfusion? Perhaps conduct a few tests?"
"May I assure you I have the world's best scientists working under my supervision," Father Jerome sniffed with a air of condescension. Mina's back straightened and Van Helsing noted with satisfaction that her pride clearly had been hurt.
"I would hope any means possible to save the life of one of our own would be more than welcome, Father," she said coolly, and Cardinal laughed, patting them both on the shoulders agreeably.
"I'm sure we can arrange something suitable for you, Mrs. Harker," Cardinal said, trying to ease the immediate tension which had sprung up between the two. "Father Jerome, Mrs. Harker is experienced in the science of the chemistry of blood. Her thoughts are invaluable."
"As you wish, sir," Father Mulhaney murmured gruffly, folding into an awkward bow. "I'll have an escort deliver a portion of the transfusion to headquarters as soon as possible." He bowed again, and exited the room.
"Well, he's not the most personable individual, but he's the best we've got," Cardinal sighed, features growing heavy and drawn. "I'll leave you to it, then. When you're ready, Carl will have your weapons ready for you. Mrs. Mina, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you, sir," she whispered with a little smile. The Cardinal surveyed them both briefly before following Father Jerome's path. Mina watched him leave and Van Helsing watched Mina watching Cardinal until she glanced in his direction and caught his gaze. "Well, is there anything you'd like to know about me, then?"
Van Helsing smirked and stood up from where he leaned on an old wooden table. He slid his leather coat from his shoulders and draped it on a chair, revealing a long, muscular frame. "What and how do you know about Dracula?"
"I've studied him and his methods extensively for the past two years and developed new methods of warding off his kind with a colleague of mine, Dr. John Seward," she recited as if she'd planned a defense to any jibes from his direction.
"And your husband?" Van Helsing added, crossing his arms with a bemused, yet distanced, expression on his face.
"Dead." His arms slipped slightly from their position and he watched in private awe at the simple nonchalance with which she'd state the fact. She was barely twenty years old and already a widow. Her eyes were storms of murky brown that revealed nothing and so he surrendered with a respectful inclination of his head.
"I'm sorry," Van Helsing said, looking back up to see she'd turned her back on him and was studying her notebook. "How did he die?" He asked, knowing he'd never get an answer from her. He was right. Her hands gripped the leather-bound book in a vice and her back stiffened.
"Well, I'm going to see Carl about weaponry," Van Helsing called to her over his shoulder as he paused by the threshold of the room. She looked halfway over her shoulder and nodded before turning back to her work. Van Helsing shook his head and made his way down a long hallway with sloping ceilings and walls that gave it a whitewashed look. The hall emptied out into Carl's laboratory where Van Helsing discovered him, as usual, hunched over a small chunk of foreign debris.
"Hullo, Carl," he said, leaning on the worktable with a disgruntled expression on his angular face. "You've heard, then?" The significantly shorter man looked up from his work, hazel eyes magnified to three times their size by the spectacles he wore over them, and nodded.
"Yes, I have," he sighed, clasping Van Helsing by the hand and forearm in greeting. "But, I'd have to agree with the Cardinal's decision. My experience with vampires is minimal, elementary, you might say." Van Helsing looked up at this and Carl rolled his eyes. "Well, aside from last time, that is. Anyway, you're safer with someone who knows more about it than I do." Van Helsing scoffed in spite of himself and stood up, crossing his arms and glaring in Mrs. Harker's direction.
"What can she know about this, really? Cold facts and medical research on the effects of vampire blood. What is she going to do when we face Dracula, throw reference books at him?" He snorted and turned back to Carl who watched him with a surprisingly impassive stare.
"You really don't know anything about Mrs. Harker, do you?" Carl asked calmly and Van Helsing looked over his shoulder again at the young woman conversing again with Father Mulhaney.
Van Helsing sighed and shook his head. "All right, Carl, I don't. Enlighten me." Carl turned his attention back to the electrical outlet he was attempting to invent.
"Three years ago, her cousin, Lucy Westenra, was attacked and bitten by Dracula. She was weak, and could not withstand the poison and soon died from the bite," Carl began, melding two pieces of steel together with a torch. "Soon after she died, incidents all over the village in England they lived in began to occur, all tied to a 'beautiful lady who induced small children to follow her' and afterwards, they'd return home with small pinpricks on their necks, no larger than a small animal bite. Eventually, the children started to change, disappear. Days later, a ship manned completely by the dead floated into harbor, the captain chained to the mast with a bible in his hands. The only living creature on the ship was a wolfish dog who, when sought out, disappeared into the mist.
"It was about this time Mina's husband returned from a business trip in Transylvania, and she found him changed. He raved about a Count Dracula who trapped him in his mansion for his bloody appetite, and when he discovered Lucy's death and the children, and the wolf, he knew the source of the evil at once."
"Dracula?" Van Helsing assumed, and Carl nodded. Van Helsing was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. "Carl, the possession in England … years back, it was all over the post …"
"Yes, you've got it now," Carl bowed his head, extinguishing the torch for a moment. "When Jonathon, Mina's husband, went out to hunt Dracula and send Lucy to her grave, with the help of his close friends and Lucy's husband, Mina was left alone in her home. The details are vague, but Jonathon found her late that night in the clutches of the Count with his blood on her lips. When she took his blood, completing the ritual, she became, as he was, 'unclean' so it was called. As you know, a cure for the bite in itself had not been discovered yet, so the only way to cure Mina was to destroy Dracula."
"Which they did."
"Which they did, yes, at the price of Jonathon's life." Van Helsing looked up, brow knitted over his darkened eyes. "In his wolf-state, Dracula punctured Mina's husband's heart just as Jonathon had shot the beast with a silver bullet. Mina was cured, of course, but was never the same after Jonathon's death. She and her husband's friend, Doctor John Seward, worked non-stop ever since to develop new ways of protecting oneself from the vampires and methods to kill and destroy them." Carl shook his head and sighed deeply, relighting the torch. "So, moral of the story is … be nice to the girl."
"I'm always nice," Van Helsing muttered, ill tempered now that the guilt tortured him from his stomach. Carl snorted and continued his work. "I'll be back for weapons before we leave."
"I'll be here," the friar called as Van Helsing moved away from him. When he'd gone, Carl looked up and back to Mina sadly. "Poor girl. He's got no idea what he's getting into."