Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Van Helsing.

Contradictions
By Rhea
rheavigilant at hotmail.com

I. Prologue

"Bless me, father, for I have sinned."

Yes, I have. Not once, not twice. I have sinned so many times that to an average observer, the number would be countless. Contradiction? Not really. I remember every single time I watched them die, watched them become the men they once were. I guess my mind subconsciously counts every single time I have acted against myself, against the laws of God, in the name of God. Contradiction? Not really. Or if it is, then so is my entire life. But of that I cannot be certain.

There are times when I wonder, what's there to be sure of besides the color of blood. That's but one thing that seems to stay constant. In the world which seems to be turning no better, despite the ironically evil crusade against, well… evil, few are things that stay the same. But, who knows that demons of darkness, fought and slain, even dead never stop haunting the living.

I do. And I know they do, too. That's the price they chose to pay, only it's not them who pay it.

They say that having memories of those you have loved, and lost, is worse than having no memories at all. And I say, it would be, if the 'no memories' part were taken for what it is. But, it is not. Not when you fight your way through hell just so you don't burn in it. Remembering is good, but not remembering gives you purpose. A goal you go for, at any and all means, for the time being ignoring all the possible consequences that come with remembering.

Temet nosce.

I sometimes wonder, how would it change me. To know. To find the missing pieces. To put them all together, and, looking in the mirror, know who I am. I live by what I believe; would I still believe in what I live by? In every truth there's a bit of a lie; is there a bit of good mingled with all the evil?

Then there is love, or something resembling it as closely as it can. Love that turned into a curse, a burden. Its weight lies heavy upon my chest, a reminder of what I have done that is all but subtle. There's an image in my mind; an almost visible breeze of life, passing quickly but quietly from her eyes open wide, lips parted, a streak of blood on the floor. Passing into me, to save me. Out of her and into me, slowly, seeping out of her, sinking into me. A dance of spirits above my head, mourning her death for the sake of my rebirth. I cannot see it, for my vision is blurred; senses confused by the change of my form from one monster into another.

I killed you, Anna. I watched you die, and I did not understand. I watched life escape you and I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that salvation was but short ways of damnation for me. Then and there, in that very moment, as I came back to life yet one more time, a thousand years of grief had reached the foundations of my soul. A tear shed then was for you, for all I have killed. A silent, tearing sob, when a hand placed gently upon your chest felt no heartbeat anymore, was for myself.

For you I cried those bitter tears, but then I knew; as days pass, it is just another face to stand against in restless sleep. A faint memory that lingers within me against my will. A cause to be torn between the need to remember, and inability to do so without being consumed by a searing flame of guilt.

So, this is the prologue. After watching the movie, I was just too tempted to write something. If you like it, there might be more.

Note: 'Temet nosce' means 'Know thyself'