A/N: This story starts out with a Dracula that has been seriously weakened by the events of the movie. Therefore at the beginning he is not that invincible and forced to interact with people and think, rather than just take it for granted that he is unbetable.
This story will consist of three parts, the first deals with Dracula's rise to power, the second will introduce Van Helsing, and the third will mainly deal with Van Helsing/Dracula. I will present my version of what I think might have happened between them in the past.
A lot of OC here, but after all this takes places 180 years after the movie and VH and Dracula are the only immortals. Yes, that means new brides, too - please don't turn away thinking they are Mary Sues, just because they are female OC's ending up with Dracula. It be against canon!Dracula not take new ones.
Thx to Jenny for her helpful corrections and to BellaBlack87, als well to Margit for her final beta-reading ;)
Dark Matters
Chapter One: Misery
'What a strange place,' Dracula thought looking at the barely illuminated ruins of a gigantic city. He had been told that it had been known as "The City of Angels" before it had been destroyed. The powers of darkness combined with the wicked ways of science had given the devil an edge. Except for the lack of food during some parts of his long voyage, he felt very comfortable here.
He enjoyed the view overlooking the city below. It was dark and reeked of human suffering. Vladislav felt an aura of power coming from one of the two skyscrapers. He knew that he had finally found it. This place fit the description he had gotten out of the gypsy fortune teller. "A city cast in darkness, with a centre of light in the shadows of a dark power," he said aloud in his native tongue.
He had travelled a long time to find this place. Still he had no idea if the gypsy woman had sent him to his doom or salvation. Dracula had forced a reading from her, threatening the life of her grandchildren. But the thing was, as a fortune-teller, she must have known that he was going to kill all three of them anyway.
Despite his body being tired and in need of fresh blood, he felt excited. Dracula was ready to rise back to power.
First he had stumbled through the dark and haunted Europe. Being too weak to fly, the effort of leaving his castle had nearly exhausted him to the point of starvation. Rarely had he found a living soul on his way. It was almost as if this world had been cast into eternal darkness, but the humans were still not conquered, their spirits still free and unwilling to submit to the powers of evil.
Dracula could only laugh at mortals. He waited for the day when they finally realised that resisting darkness made their lives only more uncomfortable. Yet whatever had happened, he was almost glad that it had not been completely successful. After all he wanted to rule the world; but since his last plan had been ruined so shamefully, he needed to recover, find new brides and an army capable of conquering what was left of this world and its inhabitants.
Dracula was not sure how many days he had walked before he had found the remaining gypsies in the valley where Castle Frankenstein had stood the last time he had been around. That Anna Valerious had not survived the night Van Helsing had defeated his plans and nearly him, was the first amusing thing he had heard since his rebirth.
It was not that he had not enjoyed quenching his thirst with the last drop of blood out of them. Which had not been so easy in his weakened condition; but the burst of fresh life power had given him back some of his strength at least partially. And now after eight years, not counting the sea voyage to America, he was close to finding his destiny.
There were a lot more survivors in the 'land of opportunities'. The frustrating thing was that no one seemed to remember what exactly had brought the world so close to falling into full darkness. Most people he had met were either crazy, mad loners or sadistic mindless bands of brutes, who brought nothing but terror and death; and those were too dumb to match his liking. The rest lived in religious-frenzy-driven communities, with despotic so-called 'holy crusaders' who dictated their miserable lives.
The crusaders were indeed a dangerous lot. In the nearly 180 years that had passed since his fight with Van Helsing, science had given mankind terrible weapons; and weakened as he was with the werewolf venom in his arteries, he had to flee and avoid them. It was a sad fact, how deep the mighty Dracula had fallen.
How he longed to leap in his bat form down into the valley where the city lay and make his presence known. Even if he had had the strength to change, with that mighty a power residing inside the city, it was best if he walked quietly down the dark path and gathered some intelligence.
Dracula glanced at the full moon and frowned. He hated the full moon. It weakened him, no matter how many throats he drank from. The vampire lord walked down the long pathway. A sign labelled "Valley of the fallen Angels" pointed that way. Halfway down, he sensed a group of mortals - very strong specimens.
Licking his lips he moved closer towards them. His hunger became almost unbearable and he had to concentrate to move without a sound. Almost too late he realised that it was an armed troop; but judging from their clothing they were neither crusaders nor raving brutes. There was something about those men, besides their blood, that appealed to Dracula.
"Who goes there?" came a firm voice; and the vampire could not believe that they had noticed him. He could see them in the dark, but mortals had weak eyes and he had moved without making even the tiniest noise. Vladislav had not even drawn a single breath.
A slender guy barely reaching the height of Dracula's chin stepped out of a circle of rather dangerous looking-musclemen. On his head was a strange metal device covering his eyes. The other men appeared to be alert - no easy prey in his current state. He reached a decision in a matter of seconds and stepped from the shadows.
The small man looked at his pale face shining in the light of the moon. The vampire realised that, at the moment, he was not really a frightening figure. Too long ago he had run out of blood; around the city were more dead things crawling than living bugs in the earth. He needed blood, but they would be able to wound him with their weapons way beyond what their amount of life force could regenerate.
"I can barely decide whether he is one of the un-dead from above or just a nearly half-dead man seeking his luck in the lost city -- or shall I say the 'last' city?" the guy addressed the others, who laughed hysterically.
'Vicious potential,' Vladislav thought; he hoped to remember the man's face despite the crude mask, so he would be able to kill him one day for his insolence towards him. Under different circumstances, the creep might have worked for him. So, smiling he, said: "I am absolutely ready to try my luck in this city."
Surprised they were, but they continued to laugh nevertheless. Then the small man bowed and pointed down the path. As he rose, the rest gave way. Dracula found it to be a strange scenario -- until passing them -- their leader said: "But know this - you won't get out that easily."
Dracula could not help himself; he turned and replied with a dangerous smile full of self-assuredness: "We shall see."
His opponent swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily, but the vampire did not wait for a further reaction and strode down into the city.
Street signs were sprayed over with graffiti and conveyed strange messages or were just a collection of neon and metallic colours. Strange figures passed in the distance between the dark buildings. Only a little light came now and then from fires burning in metal barrels, which served more as sources of heats.
The humans he saw looked even more run-down than he was, but this was not the time to be selective. He entered the labyrinth of streets despite the buildings crocked positions and found the small side alleys to be the perfect spot for a few killings.
He would not say that it was truly a divine taste, the old woman he took first was dirty and actually much younger than he had thought at first. After he had had his fill of throats and felt that it was no longer making him any stronger, Dracula decided to venture into the only part of the city where he had seen more light.
Verbatina stood at the top of the tallest building in Misery, the quarter of the poor. The young woman was not thrilled about this assignment, but she did not dare to complain. Her master had taken her from here when she had been seven; and she owed him all her luck in life. It was not really a difficult or overbearing duty, hardly ever anything happened around here, except the usual murders for clothing or food. Sexual assaults happened so seldom because the people who lived here had a hard time staying alive.
For Verbatina it was a constant reminder of her days of suffering, but of all her master's hands, she was the one most familiar with Misery. She was still upset by the sight of three eight-year-olds stealing shoes from an old man, as she realised that something was going on.
She crossed the roof and peered down into the opposite alley. Someone had been murdered there, but the body had been left with all its belongings. It took the woman a moment's hesitation, then she climbed down the fire stairs of the six-story building and examined the body. It was a woman, a very unhappy soul.
Verbatina thought it might have been what she would have looked like, if her master had not gotten her out of here in time. Reluctantly she took a closer look and saw traces of blood on the woman's chin. Pulling a rough piece of clothing away, the girl saw that the victim had a nasty wound, which left half of her neck open. Strange enough there was but little blood for such a large wound. Perhaps her master would have a clue what this meant.
Maybe she might be able to spot the person responsible; but just as she was looking for traces of the perpetrator, Verbatina heard the footsteps of several men behind her in the alley. Turning, she saw that they were also outsiders, probably some henchmen from the upper district looking for children left with all their teeth to sell them to the upper class.
Her small figure was hidden in rough dark clothing. As long as none of them realised that she was not from here either, she would have the element of surprise on her side. Most of them would never know what killed them. Playing a native to Misery she tried hard looking scared to death.
"What a pretty face," said one of the men who carried a large machete and was wearing a worn-out, dirty brown leather jacket. "With such nasty habits!"
Obviously he was the leader, for the other scoundrels were much more modestly dressed. Verbatina shook her head and stepped away from the older woman. "I think she might have had a heart attack."
"She might have had a heart attack," mocked one of the others with a high pitched-voice as they closed in on her.
With the wall to cover her back, she waited until the first were only a few feet away from her. Then the young woman flung herself forward, drew her sword and buried it eight inches deep in the leather jacket. Another swift move brought her closer to her next adversary. He was a bit more alert, but still too surprised to do more than faintly block her first blow with his spiked club. Somehow her hood slipped while she cut his throat with her long sword.
The remaining three gasped in shock as they saw her black-blue, stylishly short haircut. Instantly they knew that something was terribly wrong. Someone who could afford riches like this was not likely to be present in this part of town, unless they were extremely dangerous personnel and involved in something grander than their level of business.
Seeing their comrades going down, it would have been the smartest thing to run away; but their nature was probably telling them, that Verbatina was still nothing but a tiny girl with a little sword. Two attacked at once with their weapons - a heavy pipe and a sledge-hammer, while the other one backed up to get room for his chain.
But those three bullies were only experienced in taking on much weaker opponents, while Verbatina had been personally trained by her master. She blocked the pipe and split the wood of the hammer with two swift moves of her sword, while a kick in the balls send the now-unarmed scoundrel to his knees.
The chain-wielder yelled to his still standing comrade to get out of the way, but he would not listen. Insulting her, he continued attacking her. It did not take long for her to find a breach; and the sword cut straight through his vital organs. A second blow killed the other man before he had the chance to stop moaning in pain.
Facing the last man standing proved to be almost as easy. His moves were so obvious that she could dodge the first blow. Then she drew a throwing knife from her belt and settled the matter once and for all. Verbatina took a deep, angry breath. Whoever killed that woman, was now probably long gone.
A quick check on the men, revealed that they worked for Brooks, an upstart pimp from Merry Ville. Since it seemed unlikely that he had anything to do with the murder, she turned and looked for more clues to the identity of the real killer.
This story will consist of three parts, the first deals with Dracula's rise to power, the second will introduce Van Helsing, and the third will mainly deal with Van Helsing/Dracula. I will present my version of what I think might have happened between them in the past.
A lot of OC here, but after all this takes places 180 years after the movie and VH and Dracula are the only immortals. Yes, that means new brides, too - please don't turn away thinking they are Mary Sues, just because they are female OC's ending up with Dracula. It be against canon!Dracula not take new ones.
Thx to Jenny for her helpful corrections and to BellaBlack87, als well to Margit for her final beta-reading ;)
Dark Matters
Chapter One: Misery
'What a strange place,' Dracula thought looking at the barely illuminated ruins of a gigantic city. He had been told that it had been known as "The City of Angels" before it had been destroyed. The powers of darkness combined with the wicked ways of science had given the devil an edge. Except for the lack of food during some parts of his long voyage, he felt very comfortable here.
He enjoyed the view overlooking the city below. It was dark and reeked of human suffering. Vladislav felt an aura of power coming from one of the two skyscrapers. He knew that he had finally found it. This place fit the description he had gotten out of the gypsy fortune teller. "A city cast in darkness, with a centre of light in the shadows of a dark power," he said aloud in his native tongue.
He had travelled a long time to find this place. Still he had no idea if the gypsy woman had sent him to his doom or salvation. Dracula had forced a reading from her, threatening the life of her grandchildren. But the thing was, as a fortune-teller, she must have known that he was going to kill all three of them anyway.
Despite his body being tired and in need of fresh blood, he felt excited. Dracula was ready to rise back to power.
First he had stumbled through the dark and haunted Europe. Being too weak to fly, the effort of leaving his castle had nearly exhausted him to the point of starvation. Rarely had he found a living soul on his way. It was almost as if this world had been cast into eternal darkness, but the humans were still not conquered, their spirits still free and unwilling to submit to the powers of evil.
Dracula could only laugh at mortals. He waited for the day when they finally realised that resisting darkness made their lives only more uncomfortable. Yet whatever had happened, he was almost glad that it had not been completely successful. After all he wanted to rule the world; but since his last plan had been ruined so shamefully, he needed to recover, find new brides and an army capable of conquering what was left of this world and its inhabitants.
Dracula was not sure how many days he had walked before he had found the remaining gypsies in the valley where Castle Frankenstein had stood the last time he had been around. That Anna Valerious had not survived the night Van Helsing had defeated his plans and nearly him, was the first amusing thing he had heard since his rebirth.
It was not that he had not enjoyed quenching his thirst with the last drop of blood out of them. Which had not been so easy in his weakened condition; but the burst of fresh life power had given him back some of his strength at least partially. And now after eight years, not counting the sea voyage to America, he was close to finding his destiny.
There were a lot more survivors in the 'land of opportunities'. The frustrating thing was that no one seemed to remember what exactly had brought the world so close to falling into full darkness. Most people he had met were either crazy, mad loners or sadistic mindless bands of brutes, who brought nothing but terror and death; and those were too dumb to match his liking. The rest lived in religious-frenzy-driven communities, with despotic so-called 'holy crusaders' who dictated their miserable lives.
The crusaders were indeed a dangerous lot. In the nearly 180 years that had passed since his fight with Van Helsing, science had given mankind terrible weapons; and weakened as he was with the werewolf venom in his arteries, he had to flee and avoid them. It was a sad fact, how deep the mighty Dracula had fallen.
How he longed to leap in his bat form down into the valley where the city lay and make his presence known. Even if he had had the strength to change, with that mighty a power residing inside the city, it was best if he walked quietly down the dark path and gathered some intelligence.
Dracula glanced at the full moon and frowned. He hated the full moon. It weakened him, no matter how many throats he drank from. The vampire lord walked down the long pathway. A sign labelled "Valley of the fallen Angels" pointed that way. Halfway down, he sensed a group of mortals - very strong specimens.
Licking his lips he moved closer towards them. His hunger became almost unbearable and he had to concentrate to move without a sound. Almost too late he realised that it was an armed troop; but judging from their clothing they were neither crusaders nor raving brutes. There was something about those men, besides their blood, that appealed to Dracula.
"Who goes there?" came a firm voice; and the vampire could not believe that they had noticed him. He could see them in the dark, but mortals had weak eyes and he had moved without making even the tiniest noise. Vladislav had not even drawn a single breath.
A slender guy barely reaching the height of Dracula's chin stepped out of a circle of rather dangerous looking-musclemen. On his head was a strange metal device covering his eyes. The other men appeared to be alert - no easy prey in his current state. He reached a decision in a matter of seconds and stepped from the shadows.
The small man looked at his pale face shining in the light of the moon. The vampire realised that, at the moment, he was not really a frightening figure. Too long ago he had run out of blood; around the city were more dead things crawling than living bugs in the earth. He needed blood, but they would be able to wound him with their weapons way beyond what their amount of life force could regenerate.
"I can barely decide whether he is one of the un-dead from above or just a nearly half-dead man seeking his luck in the lost city -- or shall I say the 'last' city?" the guy addressed the others, who laughed hysterically.
'Vicious potential,' Vladislav thought; he hoped to remember the man's face despite the crude mask, so he would be able to kill him one day for his insolence towards him. Under different circumstances, the creep might have worked for him. So, smiling he, said: "I am absolutely ready to try my luck in this city."
Surprised they were, but they continued to laugh nevertheless. Then the small man bowed and pointed down the path. As he rose, the rest gave way. Dracula found it to be a strange scenario -- until passing them -- their leader said: "But know this - you won't get out that easily."
Dracula could not help himself; he turned and replied with a dangerous smile full of self-assuredness: "We shall see."
His opponent swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily, but the vampire did not wait for a further reaction and strode down into the city.
Street signs were sprayed over with graffiti and conveyed strange messages or were just a collection of neon and metallic colours. Strange figures passed in the distance between the dark buildings. Only a little light came now and then from fires burning in metal barrels, which served more as sources of heats.
The humans he saw looked even more run-down than he was, but this was not the time to be selective. He entered the labyrinth of streets despite the buildings crocked positions and found the small side alleys to be the perfect spot for a few killings.
He would not say that it was truly a divine taste, the old woman he took first was dirty and actually much younger than he had thought at first. After he had had his fill of throats and felt that it was no longer making him any stronger, Dracula decided to venture into the only part of the city where he had seen more light.
Verbatina stood at the top of the tallest building in Misery, the quarter of the poor. The young woman was not thrilled about this assignment, but she did not dare to complain. Her master had taken her from here when she had been seven; and she owed him all her luck in life. It was not really a difficult or overbearing duty, hardly ever anything happened around here, except the usual murders for clothing or food. Sexual assaults happened so seldom because the people who lived here had a hard time staying alive.
For Verbatina it was a constant reminder of her days of suffering, but of all her master's hands, she was the one most familiar with Misery. She was still upset by the sight of three eight-year-olds stealing shoes from an old man, as she realised that something was going on.
She crossed the roof and peered down into the opposite alley. Someone had been murdered there, but the body had been left with all its belongings. It took the woman a moment's hesitation, then she climbed down the fire stairs of the six-story building and examined the body. It was a woman, a very unhappy soul.
Verbatina thought it might have been what she would have looked like, if her master had not gotten her out of here in time. Reluctantly she took a closer look and saw traces of blood on the woman's chin. Pulling a rough piece of clothing away, the girl saw that the victim had a nasty wound, which left half of her neck open. Strange enough there was but little blood for such a large wound. Perhaps her master would have a clue what this meant.
Maybe she might be able to spot the person responsible; but just as she was looking for traces of the perpetrator, Verbatina heard the footsteps of several men behind her in the alley. Turning, she saw that they were also outsiders, probably some henchmen from the upper district looking for children left with all their teeth to sell them to the upper class.
Her small figure was hidden in rough dark clothing. As long as none of them realised that she was not from here either, she would have the element of surprise on her side. Most of them would never know what killed them. Playing a native to Misery she tried hard looking scared to death.
"What a pretty face," said one of the men who carried a large machete and was wearing a worn-out, dirty brown leather jacket. "With such nasty habits!"
Obviously he was the leader, for the other scoundrels were much more modestly dressed. Verbatina shook her head and stepped away from the older woman. "I think she might have had a heart attack."
"She might have had a heart attack," mocked one of the others with a high pitched-voice as they closed in on her.
With the wall to cover her back, she waited until the first were only a few feet away from her. Then the young woman flung herself forward, drew her sword and buried it eight inches deep in the leather jacket. Another swift move brought her closer to her next adversary. He was a bit more alert, but still too surprised to do more than faintly block her first blow with his spiked club. Somehow her hood slipped while she cut his throat with her long sword.
The remaining three gasped in shock as they saw her black-blue, stylishly short haircut. Instantly they knew that something was terribly wrong. Someone who could afford riches like this was not likely to be present in this part of town, unless they were extremely dangerous personnel and involved in something grander than their level of business.
Seeing their comrades going down, it would have been the smartest thing to run away; but their nature was probably telling them, that Verbatina was still nothing but a tiny girl with a little sword. Two attacked at once with their weapons - a heavy pipe and a sledge-hammer, while the other one backed up to get room for his chain.
But those three bullies were only experienced in taking on much weaker opponents, while Verbatina had been personally trained by her master. She blocked the pipe and split the wood of the hammer with two swift moves of her sword, while a kick in the balls send the now-unarmed scoundrel to his knees.
The chain-wielder yelled to his still standing comrade to get out of the way, but he would not listen. Insulting her, he continued attacking her. It did not take long for her to find a breach; and the sword cut straight through his vital organs. A second blow killed the other man before he had the chance to stop moaning in pain.
Facing the last man standing proved to be almost as easy. His moves were so obvious that she could dodge the first blow. Then she drew a throwing knife from her belt and settled the matter once and for all. Verbatina took a deep, angry breath. Whoever killed that woman, was now probably long gone.
A quick check on the men, revealed that they worked for Brooks, an upstart pimp from Merry Ville. Since it seemed unlikely that he had anything to do with the murder, she turned and looked for more clues to the identity of the real killer.