I do not claim that any of the Van Helsing characters are mine, nor is the plot that will come much later in the story.

"Is this really necessary?"

Ileana released an indignant huff of air as a pine branch slipped past her hand and swung forward, smacking her rather abruptly in the face. Eyes narrowing, she pushed the branch away once more, then glanced down. Her uncle stood at the bottom of the tree, bundled up in a thick jacket, scarf, hat, set of mittens (which were dangling from his sleeves) and feet clad in rather heavy boots. She wondered if he would ever adjust to the cold of Romania, but when she noted that he hadn't heard her - clearly too engrossed in whatever he was hastily scribbling in his notebook - she repeated the question a little louder, the stress in her voice evident this time. Her uncle, Victor, glanced up, frowned, then pulled the scarf down from around his mouth and nose, "What was that, darling?"

"I just don't see how this is necessary..."

"We're discovering things, Poppet," he replied pleasantly, grinning up at her, "I mean... We can always assume that our work isn't necessary, until we find out the results!"

Her brown eyes shifted from her uncle to the make-shift net that had been constructed moments before she started to climb the pine tree outside their Romanian manor. It didn't seem stable in any way, shape, or form, and yet she was now supposed to put her life in its hands and leap into it? Hmm.

"But, uncle Victor-"

"In the name of science, my dear, we must not second guess ourselves!" he pressed, tapping his pencil to his notebook, which was full of detailed workings for this experiment, and countless others that had been performed within the last few months. "Now, simply tell me when you are ready to fall, then I can time you."

The young woman released a series of unmentionable words under her breath as she continued to climb to the highest point of the tree, which she had been instructed to do beforehand.

"We shall find the rate of gravity, the rate at which a normal person falls," he explained, pulling his scarf back up as a particularly cold gust of air swept through the property. "Aim for the net, Ileana."

It wasn't that she didn't trust her beloved uncle, but the glee in his voice as he talked about letting her leap from a tree into a net - a task that would surely mark her death - wasn't sitting well with her.

But then again, it should be expected. Victor Frankenstein, the brother of her deceased father, was a man of science. He adored everything about it, and there was nothing anyone could do to persuade him to give it up. The man wrote texts for universities across Europe, and constantly made suggestions to review boards for new experiments for which he needed their funding for. Naturally, there were many that were rejected. Victor was a risk taker, Ileana knew, but it still broke her heart to see how crushed he was when someone told him that his work was too dangerous to earn their funding.

Ileana had been living with Victor since she was ten, and had moved to Romania as his ward after her parents died. Ten years ago, her shire in England was hit with a rather nasty swoop of a weak strain of the plague, and while many survived it, her parents were hit hard. They lasted about four months before the disease consumed them. Unfortunately, no one else in England could afford to take on another child; prices for goods were on the rise and wages were, regrettably, staying the same. Many of her relatives spoke ill of Victor Frankenstein. He was the eccentric one in the family; he had packed up and moved when he was twenty, leaving England to live in Eastern Europe. Apparently, various countries tickled his fancy until he settled into the mountains of Romania. He took to a village where the land was cheap and had a house built there, for which he had three servants brought in from England to run it while he worked his science.

He was a kind man. A bit of a recluse, Ileana soon discovered, but a kind man all the same. He took pity on her for not having a place to go, and was all too happy to take on his estranged brother's child without asking for a hint of money to compensate for her room and board. Unfortunately, the man had no experience with the Romanian culture. The people frightened him, he couldn't speak the language, and usually sent the maid out to fetch food and supplies. The same was passed onto Ileana; while she never feared the people, she was not given the privilege to experience them first hand. She was kept inside to work on her studies, and that was about all she was allowed to do. When she was older, she was slowly allowed to start taking part in his experiments more often, and soon, once she had finished with her lessons, she joined on as his assistant. While most were against a woman learning the scientific art that her uncle held so close to his heart, he was quite open to having a research assistant. It split up the work, he claimed.

And now, here they were, Ileana up a pine tree at the edge of their property, snow covering the ground and the harsh Romanian wind swooping through the nearby forest, and her uncle stood at the bottom, dressed from head to toe to keep out the cold. She was supposed to jump. Take a leap of faith and pray that the group would be forgiving if the net didn't hold. Good gracious, this wasn't how she would have it end, should this be the end. Clearing her throat, she glanced down once more as she neared the top, her lengthy brown hair swept up into a tight bun to keep the branches from tearing at her hair. It was a long way down.

"All right, Ileana," Victor called from the bottom, his light eyes gazing up at her. "When I tell you to jump, jump! I'll count the rate at which you fall. It will be fine, I promise."

"But, uncle-"

"This is in the name of science, my child!" he argued, a pleading tone oddly present in his voice, "For science, Ileana. Just think of where we can go when we know the proper, fine tune rate of gravity! The possibilities are endless!"

Oh, Ileana knew about gravity. As much as her textbooks could tell her. It would drag her down to the depths, if it could, and the depths weren't exactly inviting at this point. Swallowing thickly, she awkwardly pulled the cloak around her thick dress tighter to her body with one hand, the other arm wrapped firmly around the trunk of the massive tree. This was suicide. It was suicide in the making, and there was no way she could stop it.

"All right, on my mark-"

"Master Frankenstein?"

The soothing tone of their exceptionally English butler, Edgar, interrupted her uncle's countdown to her doom, and Ileana let out a heavy sigh of relief, the frosty breath swirling around her face for a moment before vanishing.

"Yes, Edgar?"

The poor old man looked just about as frozen as Ileana was, and she worried about him being out in the cold like this. Tonight the wind was rather violent, like a bad omen in the air, and part of her wondered if it would simply sweep down and carry Edgar away.

"A Lord Vladislaus Dragulia here to see you, sir."

"Oh, goodness, was that tonight?"

"I'm afraid it was, though he missed his alloted time. He is much later than originally planned."

"Not a problem, not a problem," Victor bustled pleasantly, his head cocking up toward Ileana. "Come down, chick pea. We'll finish this another night. There's a visitor I think you should meet too... He's interested in my latest experiment, and has some business deals to discuss. Come, come."

"Thank God," she whispered softly, easing her way down the pine tree as her uncle took down the flimsy net nearby and handed it to Edgar, "Put it aside, Edgar. We'll use it some other time."

A white eyebrow raised on the slim butler, and he folded the netting in half, "Shall I make it a little sturdier, Master Frankenstein?"

"Oh, please do," Ileana remarked quickly, cutting her uncle off. "Thank you, Edgar."

He nodded, giving her a knowing look, then turned back toward the house. Her uncle clapped his hands together once, as though dusting off his hard day of work, then grinned, "I think you'll like this fellow, Ileana. He has some very promising propositions to make, and I think he may be the benefactor we've been looking for. Come along, can't keep him waiting!"

He placed an arm awkwardly around her shoulder, and the pair began their hasty march back toward the house, their boots sinking into the growing piles of snow. All the while, Ileana couldn't help but muse to herself; perhaps this arrival, this Romanian Lord (by the sound of the name he was certainly local) had just saved her life. For some strange reason, she felt as though she owed him something.