Blood Ballade part 2: Acceptance

by Shoysrock

Anne Van Helsing, now a vampire, finds refuge with the vampires that saved her. But will that protection be enough to save her from Dracula's resurrection? Note: Contains lots of references from other vampire fiction. Sequel to Blood Ballade 1. Rated T.

Acceptance

I am vampire.

Call me what you will, Nosferatu, undead, blood drinker, Satan acolyte, whatever. I cannot now change the way I am.

I, Anne Van Helsing, daughter of the greatest vampire hunter, am one of the un-dead.

From the central park in New York, to the swampy bayous of New Orleans, to the war tattered barriers of Berlin; I wander forever the streets and forests of this world, ever hungry for the blood of the living. I still dream of when I was innocent and oblivious to the world. Of when the word 'vampire' chilled my spine and being held by the king of them all made me cold, terrorized, and filled with the nightmare that haunts me today. I think it is trying to tell me something still. What transpired a little while ago I think of as my chilling acceptance of the undead.

I have endured many dark things in this part of my life. The un-veiling of my leader. The discord among the order. The turmoil of freedom. And the return of the darkest demon of all. The being that made me what I am. Oh, how much I had endured I wished to even stake myself into the oblivion. But I found a guide that had shown me the way to this present day.

I wear, as you see me now, my black pageboy hat, and the simple black T-shirt and vest, holding my increments of battle. Namely stakes and holy water, tightly corked. By my side buckled to my chain belt, is the silver tainted sword my father's father and his father before him had passed down for generations. This is my main weapon, to kill the vile, truly evil vampires. Why, you ask, does a vampire lady like you, hunt your own kind?

I will reveal why I kill the wretched ones, those who abuse their power for the death of innocence. I kill too, every night, to satisfy my hunger, for I must drink the blood. It is the life. I only kill the dying ones, lost frail children, the elderly, and the sad stray animals I steal from alleys and shelters. I offer death, most of the time, as a choice to my sad, dieing victims. Whether they like it or not, they will sustain me, for it is the only way to feed with dignity and compassion, and not call me a monster.

I must live to carry on the Helsing name. To proudly do the job my family had always done. To rid the world of such demons, and my first great fight caused me a deadly gift, to be the most powerful of the Helsings, but succumbed to their curse they always fought. Now, the last of this noble house, I stand alone, until I find another love, to rid the world of evil. I will always be here; it seems, forever until I succumb to the next hunter, to help humanity.

Even if I am the spawn of evil, I am not what my kind had intended.

I begin this tale with the saddest of memories.



The bar was crowded with all sorts of humans. Refugees from the war, Nazis, other riff-raff from the area. I pretended to sip the mulled ale, watching the crowd. I wore my blue dress and jacket against the cold and my corset had a stake hidden away. But I didn't really need them, and I didn't care. I wanted to go back to as pleasant an existence as possible for a vampire. I didn't want to hunt them nor kill innocents. I had survived with the Order of the Dragon for around 30 years, and I still did not want to join in their fights with powerful lords and coven leaders, their petty battles to extinguish evil ones. But I could not survive without them.

I noticed a wounded gentleman who was Nazi. He had an arm missing and a leg, his eye shot and his age old. He was the enemy to the rest of Europe. He deserved to die.

Placing the coins in the bar tender's hands; I singled out my prey, waiting outside for him to leave. For a vampire I was weak, for I refused to kill the sweet, young men and woman that kept others strong. I substituted on alley cats, dogs, rats, and once in awhile when my hunger was unbearable and I need my 'vitamins.' I would at least take it out on the dieing, vile Nazis. If they were at war with England, they were my only enemy. Who cared so deeply about ridding the world of evil undead? What help was needed was to rid of the evil humans,

And I could be part of the action by sucking one once in a while.

My prey limped out, his wounds old and new leaving a delicious scent. I followed him in my dress, my boots tramping on the snow. I didn't mind the cold, unlike him who hugged his army coat against him, shivering.

I never liked scaring my prey. The others would find it amusing with young humans and Nazis on midnight battle fields, but they were cruel, relishing the taste of blood and had already abandoned the human emotion of kindness. Even a crippled Nazi didn't deserve this.

I tapped his shoulder, my steps unwittingly silent. He turned his grizzled face to stare at my stark white completion, my golden eyes filling with red hunger, and the dark rings under my eyes. It spoke of starving and sadness.

"Guten...taug madam!" he exclaimed with a shock and tried to turn away, but my arms held him fast. I pressed my cold gloved hands over his mouth, for I didn't like to hypnotize my food. It felt wrong.

"I am Nosferatu, German. You are an enemy of the humans, and I hunger. Do not think me wrong, but I never chose this existence." I began, telling the sentences I say to my prey, "You are weak and don't have long to live anyway. Please, I need you to give me blood. It won't hurt much." I ripped his shirt collar away, and with concentration I controlled my bite into his dirty flesh, trying not to lose control and get carried away. He did not deserve this pain.

After awhile, the blood stopped flowing that freely, and my strength was at it's zenith for the week. I was refreshed and exhilarated from him, and let his soul leave to wherever they go. With a trash can nearby, I stuffed him in, for the collectors if any to find in the morning.

"If you keep thinking about your food you might never appreciate its full value." Said the dark voice from the roof. I looked up to see master Fallen Angel standing against the dark sky, his duster flapping in the wind, his handkerchief covering his face, and the fedora sheltering his head. I bowed my head in reverence. He was the leader of the Order. "Master Fallen Angel." I stuttered in surprise that he watched me.

He leaped down in from of me with a speed that a human couldn't see. "To be strong you must embrace death. You are not human anymore; their laws of kindness and thought do not affect us. You are death, Anne, and the only way to live like you want to in this changing world is to join us." He turned away, his beady red eyes still burned in me still. "We have kepted you with us because we know you are a good soul, but not for long. Soon you must make a choice." He walked away and turned the corner, where the rushing of wings could be heard. I let out a sigh. He was like a strict father, giving out his comfort in snappy remarks, always to the point.

I left this place, sad and very full. Avoiding the prying eyes of Nazi solders, which were quite simple for me, I left the occupied village to the thick patch of forest the Nazis had yet to destroy.

The quiet of the woods was somewhat disturbing. Vampires liked quiet. I didn't. I would rather read a book with a phonograph playing quiet piano unlike the other's of the group, who danced to the disgusting modern jazz with each other or sulked in the dark, brooding over there bloody meal. Gruesome but comforting that there were vampires that wanted death to other evil vampires, but maybe they were the evil ones, killing innocents normally and sometimes for sport. Most of them were dark and ranked of bloodlust and animalistic intentions. Only a few others were my family.

The large rowan tree near the middle of the woods had a small symbol carved on it. A dragon breathing flame of a pentagram, the dark seared symbol on the bark of the tree. It was the safe-house we were living in right now. I pressed Father's ring in the seal, where upon I uttered the words, "In the name of the dragon, open this door." The grass and snow covered door immediately became unlocked with a click, and I opened it with the handle a convulsed root. These ancient safe houses were quite useful to an Order member. But I wasn't officially one, and didn't plan on it.

Dropping to the ground from a large height, these were easily accessible by vampires, seeing as a human would break a bone entering this secret lair. Walking down the passage way, I entered the gas lit foyer, where most of the gang was sitting, eating, or fixing weapons.

I was part of the main group Batticus. There was group Wyvrenius and Ravenna around the world, as the order had around thirty or so members, all vampires. They traveled from place to place, hunting the vampire lords, werewolf epidemics, mages and other evils. Before the Vatican got there first. These people in this group apparently were good guys, but there motives I could not place.

"Hey, Anne!" Venom called. She was my best friend here, the only other vampire who respected me as I was. She had a similar dark past, and had accepted her fate as a member. She became a vampire in 1809, from the bite of Varney in Paris, and after she said that to me for the first time I mentioned that my beloved Hector had killed him. We became fast friends.

When you're a vampire I soon realized, you stay the same age. Venom looked in her middle twenties, I was 18. It's been 30 or so years and I have been the self proclaimed 'stay at home' vampire to the group, refusing to go with them on the staking missions or necromancy battles with wizards, vampires and werewolves. I go out alone to eat in peace, and take walks or sit by the lakes if any and read by the moonlight, and paint with dark oils if I could afford them. Others would just steal them.

We sat together, her reading a French romance novel and I sketching my thoughts. She was the tough girl in the group, her white butch-cut hair stark against her green and black leggings, jacket, buckled boots and long fingerless gloves. She prided herself on her always stocked utility belt, many filled with silver daggers. Her favorite way to attack was to leap out like a snake and throw some. She was the hit-and-run hunter. Considered a senior member, she had a soft spot for French novels and me. She was French, after all, and had a caring heart behind a tough attitude.

Then Brimstone came in. He was the biggest almost, and was Irish. He had a big blasting bazooka, and personally made all his bullets, stealing gunpowder from the Nazis he killed and scratching his mark on them, a pentagram with a clover. He was Danny's boy alright. He wore a black jacket and baggy pocket pants, but his shirt was a bright orange he liked flashing off in battle. He had always his good luck charms on his neck, and resented that he could no longer go near a cross; he was a studious Catholic in the Irish army and recently turned in world war one, around the time I did. But he liked his pale undead existence. He got to use big guns. He was charming and still smoked cigars; I guess the nicotine habit still goes to you with the grave. He was another kind hearted guy to me. We have had many conversations together.

Brimstone relaxed and proceeded to smoke quietly. He winked at me, betraying a smile. He wasn't that serious in his work for the order, and liked goofing off when he can. He had forever to do that.

"How's hunting these days?" I asked pleasantly, hiding my anguish over the Nazi I killed.

"Oh, the usual. Me fancy that some nice Polish women might be tasty, but order's orders. Eat Nazis. Yum yum." He sighed, his rough Irish peppering his words. Letting out a smoke ring, he looked at me. "Eat a human lately?"

"Yes." I sighed. The temptation was too strong and I gave in again. Once a week I killed someone. It just doesn't seem natural to me. But I was getting weak on cows and cats, and a dieing solder suffused to give me strength. I was always gloomy, hiding my heart of cheerfulness behind my mask. "This war that the world is going through has been supplying us excuses to kill, but when it ends, who knows? It has been easier now for blood, but it will end, and I will starve." I said those words flowing through my mind. I placed the anguish and worry in my drawing.

"Man, Anne! Just kill a person on the street and you won't starve! When ya gonn'a learn to eat properly!" He spat out some bloody phlegm. "They'll die anyways. If you gonn'a be strong for the order…"

"That's enough! I do not need to be strong! I am not fighting anyone or killing for this order!" I hunched up, letting Venom's arm pat me. I started crying and scribbling at the same time, my mind feverishly stroking with the wooden pencil on the picture of my note book.

"What are you drawing, Anne?" Said Violet behind me.

Violet was the most feared among the Batticus. She had black long hair and worse crisp, revealing jackets over her dark purple dresses. As long as she could move with ease and use her silver scythe as a weapon. She was pale, very tall, and loved to torture her prey. She was invaluable to the group as one of the oldest members and led the groups into kills. She was cunning and sharp minded. I knew that she didn't like me not a member of the order. It was only time till they kick me out or give me an offer. I would refuse it and move on with my life. But I had a few friends here, and leaving them would be a lonely existence.

I pushed the sketchbook close to my chest, hiding the picture close to me. "None…of your business Lady Violet."

"Come now, Anne. I only want to see your beautiful skills." I couldn't stop her as she reached over and her strength surpassed mine. The book was grabbed out of my arms and into her long fingers. Brimstone got up and growled like a bear. He didn't like her ether.

Her darting eyes were taking in the emotions I had put in the sketch, like drinking them in as a sort of amusement. After awhile with her cat eyes stopped searching, she let out a haughty cruel laugh, and ripped the sketch in half, the parchment paper falling to the floor.

"You should stop wasting your time drawing such things. You should revel in the fight of vampire life, dear, not scribble like a little mortal girl." She tossed the book to Venom, who eyed her angrily. I got off the couch and kneeled on the floor, hiding my tears as I picked up the paper scraps. I looked longingly at them.

It was a market square, and a stake in the center. Tied to it was a young woman, shaved and in white rags, clutching the cross. Guards and crying peasants surrounded the pole, and flames were starting to leap higher and higher to the crying woman tied there. In a podium stood black clad figures, wearing crosses and with stern looks on their faces. And flying in the sky was a dove, but the clouds were as gray as ever.

I picked the pieces up, and I smelled dawn approach. I slid into my coffin, hoping I would not have those dreams again.



My senses were tingling as I waited for the night. I felt the presence of twilight outside underground, and sighed as I hugged my linen pillow. The white linen lining of the coffin I had gotten used to sleeping in a coffin. They were quite comfy and the dank smell of the coffin was relaxing. But night was almost here, and the group would be out to kill their latest assignment: A vampire Nazi, created recently by an un-known vampire, was leading his division to a British base of communications. Not only was the vampire a deadly Nazi, and his master yet to be found also, but the British were the good guys. I was born in Britain.

The feeling of night enveloped me, and I quickly arose. It was Walpurgis Night, exactly 30 years this night that I became turned. I rubbed my eyes of sleep and tidied up around my little room. Most of us had our rooms, and I shared mine with Venom. I began brushing my short blonde and brown streaked hair, and put on my white and yellow trimmed house dress Brimstone gave me last year. (I dared not think of the blood stain on the collar. How he got the dress I could imagine.) It made me think of the sunshine I could only look at through photographs and paintings. How often I painted dawns and sunsets when I was happy, and by happiness meant melancholy. I then placed my golden chain around my neck. It had a locket in it that I had bought awhile ago in Warsaw. It could hold three pictures, and it held a photograph of Hector in it that I found on his father's body. Another was of father, his face wrinkled and happy, holding me near his face. I was 6 then, a few years after my mother died. I sat in the wooden chair by Venoms black coffin. I never got to know much about Mr. Seward. But I was saddened by Hector. My finger trailed over the smiling image of Hector, his mess of dark brown hair, his deep blue eyes, the soft round look of his face, and he was my first love. But I killed him, by accident. He staked Dracula and I stabbed the count with my silver sword at the same time. It was enough to kill but my sword…don't cry Anne. He's dead, he got in the way, and he's gone forever. I must move on with my immortal life.

The creak of the coffin signaled that Venom was awake. The lid landed with a thud as usual, and her flaring white head and smile greeted me. I smiled back.

"How's ze early bird?" She said in her rough French accent. She yawned and turned serious. "I'm sorry about last week's, sketch incident." Venom was long to apologize, and only in secret.

"That's alright. I need to get used to her. She should not be so mean."

Venom got up and started putting on her jacket and loading it with daggers. "I hate her. She's the second in command in the group. You know us two and Brimstone is the only ones that rebel against the strict laws of bloodlust and ways of the Dragon code." Around the Batticus, which were 12 members in this division, we were known as the youngest members, and in my case, non-member. "Once a Dragon, always a Dragon. At least you have the chance to leave before they give you the choice." Venom continued.

"You and Brimstone are the only nice ones to me. I guess you are right. Tensions are rising, and I think I should go. But what about you and Brimstone?" I asked, realizing the situation. I was distraction to the other hunters, some of them said. And Violet was picking on me much more. My time was limited her in this little safe house of my kind.

"Ah, don't worry about us. I'm kind 'a happy killing things. You, though, seem unnerved about it. This isn't really the right place for you. You've experienced much pain for a vampire." Her tone became sympathy, for I was turned by the king of the darkness himself, and the thought of seeing his face again stirred a longing to see him again…wait! He was evil! Seducing me, hurting me, he is NOT romantic! He is dead, deceased! I have no master, and he will not rise again!

"As soon as we are out of this war zone, I will leave. I hope I will see you again."

"So far there aren't any missions after this. But I hope we get out of this place. There's food but danger of being found. Well, off to breakfast and a German staking." Popping her last dagger up her sleeve, she went down the stone hall to the foyer. I followed behind.

All the 12 members were gathered around, standing or sitting at the Rowan wood table. Fallen was sitting at the end, his aura of coldness and red eyes glittering across the table. I stood in the doorway, watching them load their stakes and weapons under their belts and jackets, preparing to kill.

"We are the Order of the Dragon. Our job is to vanquish evil. Today, Dragon members, we will hunt this freshly turned German Nazi who is planning on killing many innocents. Not only that, he was turned by a vampire master we have yet to know about, and his knowledge will help us. We are at its strongest this night, for it is Walpurgis Nacht. Be wary and secretive, as to not arouse suspicion to the British that this evil being in life and death was what they would most fear. We are a few miles away. Let us hunt." A round of cheers erupted from the group, and they prepared to file outside. Fallen got up and looked at me, pulling his handkerchief over his face, and walked out. He took a second glance at me, and uttered the words, "Take care."

I nodded a curtsy, and watched as he, then Venom, left. Violet was the last to walk out. She shot me a most unnerving glance, and gave a slight smirk hidden in her frown. Since I saw Dracula, I was detailed in smirks. I don't like smirks at all.



The quiet of the foyer, with the lamps dimmed, was the most peaceful quiet I ever heard. I could sketch in peace. I sat for awhile, drinking some blood from a human Fallen or the other's had killed for breakfast. The blood was already ripe, and it was pleasant to sip while writing in my diary. I rarely went back on the pages, trying not to recount in my mind what happened years ago.

This was a night I needed. My mind with hard decisions, and it was my death anniversary. I turned on the phonograph to play some Chopin, and I relaxed as it played 'Funeral March.' The melody made me wander in my mind as I dozed in the armchair, the lamp and candle light dancing in the gloom. Oh, the sad but pleasant gloom. The gloom I will have to live with forever. And I thought my mind truly at peace since 30 years of stress and bad memories.

I heard an unmistakable chuckle in the shadows.

My eyes flared open to reveal Rienfield standing over me, his knife in his hands and his looks rugged. And dirty. He was unshaven and his hair grey and wispy. The shirt was the same, and his pants stolen from a Nazi. But the eyes had an even worse glitter to them, glowing of insanity and cunning.

"Master dead, yes, but master will come! Master told me so! Master wants blood drawn…from bride and Rienfield." He kicked the phonograph away and I involuntarily gave a little scream. "Master must rise. Master must fly again!" I couldn't move as the knife slit my neck.

I felt searing pain and clutched my bleeding throat, but in a few seconds the cut healed, and the pain gone. But I was worried then was that Rienfield stared at the blood on his knife. He was bleeding on his wrist also. Then the blood disappeared, evaporated. I prepared to lash out at him when I felt pain course through my body.

I screamed as the blood in me felt like it was boiling, and through my dizzy fluttering eyes I saw that Rienfield too was convulsing, on the floor. The tremor causing pain lasted for awhile, and after it simply disappeared I felt weak. Rienfield and I struggled to gain our breaths. I felt like my blood was sucked again, my life temporally drained.

I was too weak to attack Rienfield, who staggered away and out the foyer, calling "The master is awake. The master will come!"

I closed my eyes and slept.



The burning stake was higher and higher. My mind begged for deliverance. Why had I deserved such a fate! To be condemned for reasons my dream can't remember, and the people crying. If the public wanted me alive, then why still I burn? The executioners, a glint in their eye, standing in the name of God to kill an innocent. For a reason why it was not revealed to me, as the tongue of fire burned my feet. I cried out in the pain. The taste of the pain of Hell.



"Are you alright?" Venom was standing above me, her neon green eyes filled with worry. Unlike humans, I wasn't unnerved by them. They were vampire. And I was too. She looked tired and had some dirt on her face, but that was about it.

"I…think so." I groaned, trying to sit up. My hand brushed my forehead, covered with cold sweat, and I felt my neck. Yes, it still had the faint trace of a healing cut. Rienfield was no dream. Nor was the feeling my mind kept on saying, master is awake, master will call…damn it that they didn't kill him before! I looked around the foyer to see Violet standing far in the corner, Brimstone with a puzzled look on his face, and Fallen making a potion at the desk, grinding ingredients.

"Is she awake?" Fallen said quietly.

"Yes, master. It looks like she was cut on the throat by a large knife." Venom said placing a damp towel on my head. It was aching with the slow chant of master. Venom pushed me back as I tried to get up. "Please, stay relaxed. We must know what has happened to you."

"I must tell you! Rienfield, Dracula's servant, came in here and slit my throat, and he kepted on saying that the master must rise, and that's when he and I felt our blood literally boil. It was a bit when the pain left. Then Rienfield left. I don't know why that happened." I still felt hot, and tried. Like my blood was taken.

The comforting, but serious voice of Fallen at least abated and arisen new fears. "What Rienfield did to you was an ancient ritual only practiced four times in history. The blood of the servant, bride or husband vampire, and the remains of an innocent must be drawn on a specific night of the undead, Walpurgis Nacht, which is, or was tonight." He gestured gravely to the wooden clock, ticking away at the time of 4:56. It must have happened at midnight. "As long as a cut is made anywhere in the world at that appointed time to each of the three subjects, as long as the blood reached the surface, then the vampire arises from his dust." He mixed the ground ingredients in a heated vial. "I am afraid your master has returned from true death, Anne."

I stiffened, struggling not to cry. Dracula was alive, and he was most definitely going to reclaim his bride. Rienfield was a long way by now, and Hector had died over Dracula's remains. The blood of the innocent…Hector's blood traces was sufficed to raise the dead prince of darkness.

Before I could say anything, Fallen briskly walked over and made me drink his potion. "Here, this tonic aught to relive some of the chants in your head." I drank greedily, trying not to think of grief. The pasty liquid had the taste of an herb I couldn't identify, and the taste and texture was weird. "The elixir is of mustard seeds and dried dragon blood."

"Chill and serve." Brimstone couldn't help but comment. He was always trying to cheer people up. And in this grave situation, it made me think of other things. After swallowing the last of the elixir, my head cleared, and my fever quieted down. They let me stand up as I tried to look proud. But I wasn't. I was a little girl again, a human like I had always tried to be when I was not. Now I was in danger.

"Well, what should we do now? A werewolf got him, then a holy sword. What can kill him now?" Venom bowed her head, hopelessness on her face.

"We will most certainly kill Count Dracula. There is something mystical about Anne and Dracula has long been threatening the safety of humans and vampires. Anne must not rejoin her master before he is truly dead." Fallen went back to his desk and started packing the items in a sack. "The Order of the Dragon is the sworn enemy of Count Dracula since he left to do evil. We shall stop him again!"

"I think we should hide away Anne. He doubtless wants his best of brides, and there are untold ways a bride can be useful in rituals and other schemes." Violet trailed from the shadows, her shadowy cloak making her a thin wisp of darkness in the underground. "We can't bring her with us. She is no use in killing Dracula and his acolytes are many. She is a beacon to his eyes. The Batticus Safe house in England is the only place away from the human war where she will be protected." She looked at me hungrily, her eyes betraying no worry. "Each of the three safe house guards its vampires away from the sense of their masters…unless the master is in the mansion. She will be safe there while we kill the greatest fiend of all!" Her eyes then blazed with bloodlust, and quieted down.

I was quite tired. It really was true. He had literately sucked my blood, from miles away, seemingly impossible, but I was getting used to that. I hated being the damsel in distress. It made things unbearable. I groped to my coffin in fear and weariness. It would be morning soon.



The night air was calming to me as I flew. Our hoard the Batticus flew silently in the cold night air above the grim forest of Germany. Only little cottages could be spotted once in a while above the dense cover. Our next stop was to be in a few miles, another small Order safe house was in the midst of the Black forest, and we would rest there till night fall. Our objective was to England, where I would be safe from Dracula's prying eyes. But on the way there was a different matter.

The 12 members, flying above the clouds, the stars so close. Venom was near me, her daggers ready to fly out from her chest straps, legs, hips and arms, and Brimstone in his deep orange form, flapping behind me carrying his bazooka. The group clearly resented me, and Fallen had made the point to me that it wasn't very often they escorted vampires. Only in the ancient Blood Wars (When in 1643 three noble families of vampires had skirmishes over feeding rights.) was when the Order escorted young vampire nobles and other members of the opposing sides as body guards. But that hadn't happened for hundreds of years. Now they resented suddenly protecting the 'little white girl' as they called me. For my bat form was a stark, creamy white, my claws golden along with my eyes. I could see why that scared them. Vampires were creatures of the night. My blinding body was easily seen. It looked out of place with the others, dark browns, red, purples, greens and blues, even gray. And of course dark orange for Brimstone. The only true dark one who blended with the shadows was Fallen, his form pure ebony, and he was the biggest.

I tried to enjoy myself flying around. It was rare that got this chance these few years, as patrol planes and tanks from Nazis and the like. War time Europe was not a nice place for freedom. I looked forward, feeling the flow of the beating wings silently flapping in the wind. Soon we will be there.

A scream erupted from Thunder, the gray one who started falling, a silver arrow glinting from his chest. Then more came as the ones farthest away were falling, calling out in pain as they turned to dust in the air.

"Fall in! Group Strike attack! Group Cloak fall in!" Fallen cried out, shooting cross bow bolts at the trees, where I saw the arrows were coming from. Then before I could pull out my sword I was surrounded by several of the large members. We were dropping into the trees at a slow descent, the back vampire with a large black shield protecting the end of the swarm I was in. I glanced around in my panic and saw Venom screech like a bird of prey, as she dove into the trees releasing a volley of daggers. She poisoned some of them, and I heard cries of humans below.

We entered the trees, landing in our human forms. My sword was drawn, and the four guy vampires, armed with guns, a whip, and the shield bearer were running with me at vampiric speed we dodged trees and fallen logs. The world was a blur, and I hadn't been running in awhile. For a human, you wouldn't really understand how a vampire can deftly without worrying move and avoid objects at such high speeds. But we were.

We were running quite sometime, and we were slightly out of breath, the horror of horrors I had expected to never see was Father Christian shooting a silver bullet into the heart of the one in front of me.

"Look out!" I screamed, but it was too late for Ash, the young vampire in front, who moaned and crumbled to dust. We stopped and scattered.

Father Christian, his smoking gun in one hand, and a sword in the other, stood firm and resolute. Last I saw him, he had black hair with a few traced of gray. But now his head was completely gray, the hair in the same clean style. He was wrinkled and sterner, his face with a long scar on the cheek and his robes the same color of deep red with the silver cross emblazoned on his front of the flowing robes. He was dead serious and ready to kill. And kill he did.

"Order of the Dragon members, it is my sworn duty on this mission to retrieve the vampire Anne Van Helsing. Release her immediately to my custody or I will be forced to kill more of you."

"We have a sworn duty too, and that is the protection of Anne. We have it covered." Gore said with a stern tone. He was in the trees above; no doubt ready to shoot him full of lead.

"If you want to play hard, so be it." And Father Christian leaped up in the air, dodging the bullets that Gore was shooting. From the underbrush behind Christian a vampire leaped out and reached to bite his neck, but hissed back as then I spotted the chain of a cross repel him. Instead, he reached his butt of the heavy pistol to strike his head, but Christian intercepted with his silver sword, cutting off his hand. The vampire howled in pain, and this was my chance to escape. Sneaking in the underbrush away, I circled round and ran as fast and as quietly as possible. My mind was a-buzz, the swirling events causing panic in my mind. The Vatican was armed with silver and crosses, stakes and water. And they were out to get me. And worse, the despicable Father Christian was with them. Fleeing for my very life for the sake of getting to the safe house, I felt the presence of dawn draw near. I ran faster.

Then pain struck me. I tumbled as I felt a dart in my back, and I pulled it out, and immediately felt tired. Looking around in my sitting position, like a stupid duck about to get shot, and saw Father Christian with a blow gun to his lips. He smiled. Then darkness fell. Damn it.



Awaking from the nightmare of the burning stake, I saw I was bound tightly with a strange cord, silky and…making me feel weak. The place was a wooden coffin, lightweight but reinforced, and a bit dark. I was clearly moving, feeling the bumps and jolts of a carriage hurry at a fast speed. The smell of flowing blood betrayed the presence of 5 humans, and the tingling presence of silver, crosses, and in the far corner bottles of holy water. It was almost twilight, and the carriage was lit with lots of light.

Trying to keep quiet, silently shuffling my bounds, I realized this was sprit thread. When I was with the Vatican for four years, I learned about sprit thread, and its uses as being nearly indestructible. It was used in whips and ropes, used to bind vampires and other evil things, weakening their powers and as a weapon worked like a silver whip. Well, I was back in the societies arms again. Now that I was a vampire, I hope they didn't think of killing me. In this state, and on the carriage ride, they could easily stop and put a stake in me.

The lid creaked open in a few moments. Father Christian with a look of despair on his face and other members in dark cloaks were hiding their crosses and other holy symbols. I was deathly afraid that they were going to destroy me.

"Good evening, Miss Helsing. As you know before, I am Father Christian. We were not able to pursue you for 30 years because you were held captive and turned vampire by the Order of the Dragon." He said, failing to project much concern.

"You are wrong, Father. Dracula got to me first, and I stayed with the Order because they saved me, and they do good work killing evil as well as you." I spat out. I would have just loved to bite his damned little neck.

"The Order of the Dragon is a power hungry group of vampires created by Dracula's father himself!" He said and leaned closer.

"Dracula's…father? He founded the thing?" I didn't know that! The prince of all evil, his grasp ready to pounce on me and the world, had a father that founded the vampire hunters?

"I see you are confused. Long ago, Lord Dracul, Dracula's father, founded a noble society of catholic holy knights, and sought to destroy evil. But when Dracula came to power, Valerious the elder, his real father who lived in hiding in the Order, banished him to his castle for all the evil his son did to the world after he died and became vampire from being killed by the left hand of God. Then the devil gave him wings, and he had and now is stalking the realms of the living, and one of his priorities is the destruction of the Order of the Dragon. For they turned vampire after Valerious died, from a curse Dracula placed on them. To this day, the Order only accepts vampires, and has become corrupted." He paused, watching my grim face. "Since the historical Blood Wars of the three vampire noble families, the society has become power hungry and no longer fights for good. They fight to rid the world of all possible large and medium threats so that they can take over the world, and there are only a few things left to stand in there way, one is Dracula and the other…you." His tone was grim and he gave a sigh. "I am sorry you were under their sway, and you became cursed Nosferatu from the greatest villain of all. But you will be safe in the Vatican in a special vampire home, away from the usage of the Order and Dracula."

"Why would the Order, if they were evil as you said, want me? I am just the last of the Van Helsing line. No more! As a vampire I'm pretty much like an average one."

"You are descended from the angel Gabriel, and you seem to have had a past life of another saint. Your dreams when you recorded them when you were with us, gave us a description of your incarnation." Pah, my mind thought. There is no God. My father was no 'incarnation', and neither am I!

"We had sent a spy there when you killed Dracula. He mentioned the word Gabriel when he died. And, I procured your diary." He held up the dog eared green book. Bastard, he read it! "Your dreams are more vivid now. And for one thing, you wrote of when you were down in his chambers at Castle Bran. He called you, Joan de Arc. You have since wondered at its meaning." I desperately wanted to know, but I felt it was night fall, and something was not right. Something's were flying toward us, with vampire hearts. I didn't say a word, hoping that it was the order, silently waiting for Christian to say who she was, but the moment never came and the carriage stopped.

"What is going on Friar John?" He opened the carriage door a bit to look outside. But he was dragged out by a brown gloved hand with the ring of the Wyvrenius Order of the Dragon. Christian yelled while the others got to their weapons, launching out of the other doors and attacking the Order. Guns, screams, thunks and sword swishes could be heard while I was alone in the coffin, tied with sprit thread. I struggled and managed to sit up, though I was weak from the affects of the thread. Then Ruthven came in.

They didn't call him Ruthven, but Dark Oak, Oak for short. All the members didn't use their real names as to 'release their once human identity.'

Anyways, Dark Oak was in his usual out fit of a black cape over his strong firm form, and wore an old Victorian brown and green suit. He wore his top hat and eye glass and his mustache. He always looked dead serious, maybe because he was dead. I had learned he was the leader of the Wyvrenius. A black long gun smoking in his hand, he bent over and used a dagger to cut away the thread.

"Nice to see you again, Lord Ruthven." I asked smartly. I never had trusted him, and this time something was wrong.

Not a bit startled by his real name, he still cut the bonds. "I am here to take you with us to the Grand Castle. We were planning to meet you at the safe house, but we had to rescue you." He didn't like me either, I could tell. With the thread off, he picked me up in his arms and paused, looking my body over with longing eyes I didn't like, then hopped out of the carriage.

The scene around me was blood and one dead vampire. The others from the Wyvrenius order were clustered around ragged bodies, 18 in all, drinking the Vatican men's blood. Father Christian was clearly alive, but unconscious and was being stuffed in a sack. I realized how weak and hungry I was.

Setting me down on a rock, I stared hungrily at a dieing young man. I reached over, and dragged his neck up to my mouth.

"Solider of the Vatican, I starve. You are dieing, and to waste your precious blood would be a waste. I must feed. May your soul forgive me." He tried to say something, but the bullet wounds made him cough blood up, and I drunk heavily.

After my fill, I was much stronger and the group was ready to head off.

"I am supposed to go to the Batticus safe house in Britain." I said to Ruthven. "But you are taking me to the Grand Castle, where ever that is. What for?"

"The castle is in the Carpathian mountains. We switched orders because currently Dracula is past us now and heading to England. If we were going there, he could intercept us or find us in England. The Grand Fortress is much safer and nearer." He and the others prepared for flight. "We must be off at once." He handed me my backpack I was carrying, with the dairy and sword.

Turning into my white bat form, I flew in the formation east, and noticed that some of them were from Batticus. Angling away from Ruthven in his brown form, I was next to a Batticus, his name being Dusk.

"What happened to Fallen and the others?" I asked, hoping Venom, Brimstone, and the others were not dead.

"Fallen lived, along with Venom and Brimstone. They gave us the task when we joined them in battle, but it was almost dawn and we could not follow your carriage in daylight. We took over and the rest of Batticus that was injured by silver stayed behind. They are pursuing Dracula along with the Ravenna." And he said no more.

My hair rippling in the wind as we flew, we headed towards Dracula country. Where supposedly they said Dracula was not there. I hope what Father Christian said was not the truth.



The mansion was quite comfortable. For a vampire anyways. I was a bit used to right now dark and gloomy old mansions and castles. But I was still uncomfortable in these places. They stirred memories of…Dracula's castle. And carriages, they were of Ruthven, who was right now in the grand coffin room down the hall. I was uneasy about the Wyvrenius taking over my custody, seeing as I was never around Ruthven with the Batticus. Ruthven always looked at me with longing, worry in his eyes and an undying sadness. He was shifty yet firm; with a friendly heart underneath but portrayed sternness. I would have loved to have conversations with him, but why he let Dracula turn me into my present form I resented him.

For two days I busied my self around the Grand Castle. The place was like a comfortable palace for a vampire to live in, with a dark but cheery atmosphere at the same time. It was well swepted of spider webs, had fires in the fireplaces, and an enormous library. There was a large hall, not dark and buttressed with gargoyles, but with tapestries, bright gold flourishes, and with plenty of torch holders. It was not too big, and the outside was cleverly disguised as abandoned. The members were enjoying them selves, with target practice, reading, flying in the halls, playing the hall organ and piano, and of course inviting men and women from the nearby villages to dazzle them and eat for dinner. I avoided them at meal time. I was eating off of the sheep and pigs from the innocent farmers.

My delicious dinner finished, I set about to scour the library for this 'Joan de Arc.' I hardly paid attention to world history with the Vatican, and I had forever to learn it.

The large book room was comfy, with large blood red arm chairs and books by the thousands. After basking in its glory, I set about the world history section.

It was by far the largest section in the place, and most of the history section was written by vampires and about the Blood Wars and other vampires in the human world, I found a large book chronologically listing important events in the world. I skimmed the pages from start to finish, looking for any word of Joan. I surprised my self how I went on with this for an hour, my vampire eyes never tiring as I sat on the couch.

I was quiet bored looking and skimming, now in the beginning of the middles ages with the invasion of Normandy, when I heard small voices it seemed, urging me to look up. I noticed it was almost morning, but that didn't bother me since the windows were closed during the day and opened at night. But I saw a most beautiful piano.

I didn't notice it before, for it was in another open room that was attached to the library. Bored, I promised myself to return reading it after I tinkle the ivories.

Gliding in the room, the room was lit by candles, and the place dark and shadowy. Placing myself by the dusty keys, the grand piano was a slick black, the keys looking used but new, and on its music holder I nearly gasped. It was sheet music, old and tattered, but readable. It was 'Novelette' by a certain Kabalsky. I heard that name before, and Fallen mentioned awhile ago that Kabalsky was a vampire. No wonder it was here! But still it was eerie. I felt that voices were guiding me here. Without sense of time or idea, I began to play.

I was rusty for the first few measures, but as I went on the sight-reading I began to play better, my mind at peace and sadness. My feelings poured out into that beautiful of pieces, it's melody like a sighing of my life's sorrows. Oh, the piece was made for me! I played it over and over, silently and with eyes closed, expressing myself through my tears and fingers, its melody entrancing me until I stopped after playing it over and over for how many times I didn't know. I was a bit out of breath, and I then noticed a presence I didn't like. A presence I had not felt for 30 years.

"You play beautifully, dahling." Count Dracula said from the shadows behind me, his hand delicately placed on my shoulder.

My mind was racing, and my heart would have been too if I had a heart beat. I recoiled from his hand and batted it away, but the moment I touched his hand, my will was faltering. I stopped and froze, the strange feeling from my hand flowing to my head, and I felt so weak, so up lifted, so…much in need of some one to hug and hold. The voices were stronger now, and I recognized the voice as Dracula himself then, and I couldn't deny them as they made me look into his eyes.

He was little changed since I last saw him, his face glowing in the candle light, with soft curves, and demeanor that tingled my body, and a stature of nobleness and beauty I had never seen before. In the flesh since 30 years he was more beautiful then I had imagined. His face and lips spoke of power, love, and want.

What the hell was I thinking?! He was a murderer, and intended me as his 'puppet on a string', like he said all those years ago. But it felt like yesterday when I saw him. Now, he was here to claim his bride. I still had not moved away, rooted to the spot in in-desions.

"You…came back. I was told you were near Britain…" I spoke with fear. I thought it best to get away from him. Yes, Anne, don't fall for those eyes, those voices.

"Ah, I see you still trust the Order, my once truest enemy." In a flick of the wrist, he grasped my hand and twirled around, holding my hand as he stood above me, placing his chilling hands on my shoulders. "The Order of the Dragon, with my 2 most trusted vampire slaves, is the secondary leaders. They have infiltrated the Order. And you, with the help of Ruthven and Carmilla, placed you with out notice, dahling, at this wonderful castle where all the members of the Order will meet there doom." I was frozen with fear, my mind aching to be held in his arms, but I refused them by sitting still at the piano, taking in the information he gave me. He glided smoothly, reclined and relaxed his voice smooth and seductive. I trembled as he put his arm around me, his hand on my other shoulder. Still staring in his beautiful blue eyes, I tried with my hand on the bench to get away, but his other hand grasped it and I could not get off. Scooting away only made him sit closer and more comfortably on the bench.

"Why do you pursue me still? I'm only a bride, you have had many…why me?" I struggled to breathe, his face ever closer to mine, dreading what he would do.

"Ah, you vill understand, my sweet. Let me count the ways. One, you are bait for the Order." He brought my hand up to his, kissing it lightly. "Two…You are my…perpetual revenge…against my murderer." His next kisses were crawling up my arm, limp and tingling from the sensations, my whole body falling in his grip. "Three, someone strong and wise to rule the world with me." He advanced, and we glided off the bench, and he backed me onto a velvet couch, his hands on my shoulders and sides, my purple dress smooth under his hands. "Four…we will need heirs to my throne, a supply of sons and daughters." He was on top of me, his weight holding me down and my heart started beating again. His passion and the mind link between him and me were igniting it.

"Please…go away…don't touch me…" I pleaded, my heart fluttering. He was intoxicating me; I was struggling to deny the whims the master was demanding. He was fighting through my defenses, reaching my mind to let him rule me, to make himself the puppet master.

"The bride shouldn't refuse her master. Especially now. Give up, dahling. You are my vampire, beautiful and blood thirsty. Live like one." He stared kissing cheeks and face, the hands pinning me down and holding my head towards him. My will was crumbling. His fingertips of cold and strength were picking at the walls that held passion at bay. He was truly a vampire Lord.

"Five…I passionately…ravishingly…love you." And he kissed me, eagerly diving in with fury, and my struggles ceased. Closing my eyes, I gave up and let him do what he will, tears down my face. What had I done? My father if he was here would cry at my lack of defense. I was weak. I clutched Dracula, hanging on and wishing I was truly, honestly dead. I was trapped forever now, to be his slave. Until he died, I was to be owned.

It was when he started fumbling with my ribbons, trying to take my dress off, when I noticed something above his head. I peeked, and Lord Ruthven, fury in his eyes, had a stake over Dracula's heart in the back. My joy surmounted, but then Dracula noticed, and stopped kissing.

"You'll have to do better then that, Ruthven, to kill me." He smirked, still staring in my eyes. He turned his head to look at Ruthven's, his stake and gaze held firm, Dracula still not moving. "She is mine, Ruthven, not yours. If you want her, go ahead, stake me. She will be yours when I'm dead, baht seeing that a silver stake is not possibly useful, try again some other time." While this was going on, Dracula's nails sharpened and trailed over to my palm. I was fearful by what he would do; strike out at Ruthven or something else. But it was something else.

Searing pain was on my hand, a pain like had never felt before, a pain like a curse. I screamed and burst into tears with my eyes clamped shut, then pain slowly throbbing away but still there and I clutched my hand, feeling on fire. Voices were chanting evilly in my head, my eyes seeing red, and the face of Dracula, his smirk and wild eyes, laughing and turning into mist. Ruthven was stunned, his stake dropping away, his eyes filled with worry and concern, and he bent over me, holding me in a comforting embrace, the pain throbbing and dieing away. I closed my eyes and was crying, letting him hold my burning hand while the other grasping his suit jacket for support as he carried me away to my coffin. I fluttered my eyes around, seeing vampires with stakes and guns, other's getting ready to fight, but at the sight of my hand, they stopped in disbelief.

We had managed to reach my room, the scent of dawn in the air, and he placed me in the brown coffin, looking with wonder on the hand. The pain was hardly there, and I managed to look on my palm.

It was a bloody capital D, with a look of menace and evil. I felt terrified, like I was infected with a disease or something terrible.

"What did…he do?" I asked, fearful for the answer.

Ruthven knelt down and looked down and away from me. "He has marked you. All his brides and servants had his mark on their palm. But they were always lower cased, and the mark gave power and ownership in the sprit and the mind, and depending on how deep the wound is the more strength and vampire powers the bearer has. Only powerful vampire lords can spare to give power to chosen individuals." He pulled off his glove on his right hand, and showed his palm to me. It was an upper case D, but smaller. "In ancient times and the Blood Wars, it was prideful to show one's mark of their master. But vampires are dying out, and very few vampire lords exist. Count Dracula, one of the oldest vampires, has that power to even embody an upper case letter of his name." Holding my hand as I drifted away in exhaustion, our marked palms touching, I felt something linking between us, like another one even more similar to me was there. And it really was, it seemed, to happen and be, for Ruthven was marked seemingly as I was. He quickly recoiled, and looked much bolder. "I was marked as you were, but not as strong. You will be tired and weak for a day, and the result will be great power, power unknown. This type of marking has not happened for a 100 years." I couldn't sit up anymore, and I wanted to sleep.

"What about…Dracula?"

"We will take care of him, if I can. He is my master also, and even now, he is telling me to call off the search. But they will look for him. I promise you." I let him lay me back into the coffin, and I let sleep take me, trying not to remember the pain, Dracula's return, and his intoxicating kisses.

"Rest, beauty, rest." And I closed my eyes as Ruthven, with what I thought was a trickle of adoration in his worried eyes, place the lid over me. The thoughts of the night were postponed, as a sleep that I had never felt before, as the sense of evil was in my mind, from the mark of the Devil's spawn.



The burning heat of the licking flames was higher and higher. More straw and kindling was added, and my feet were blistering. The pain was dreadful, the crackling of the twigs and the cries of the people a chorus. I looked through the smoke at the dark figures. They were staring in justice, like it was good for me to burn. I felt betrayed, and terrified, my mind struggling to stay strong. But it was hard as the pain from the physical fire was stronger then the essence of God I was trying to reach. God, hear me! Are the voices true? Am I doomed for letting myself follow you? Should I have taken communion and put on the clothing of women? But no, you said not to! Oh, God, please may I die quickly!



The glimmer of evening was upon the mansion. The cold of early November was chilly and wet, and rain pounded outside. I could feel the humidness and wind when I woke up in a sweat.

Lying peacefully now, I was very hungry. Soon the night will be nigh, and I can awake and see about eating. The others must already be up; searching for Dracula's where abouts, and no doubt I was guarded. Damn, how did he find me? If Ruthven didn't appear, I would have been taken away, and no doubt, something I didn't want to think about. And he placed a mark on me and the pain, oh the pain it was, but now I feel weak. He said it was a side effect as the mark let power control the mind, and mobilized itself in the body. The thought of that stared a chill down my spine.

Struggling with my strength, I managed to open the coffin and it clattered on the floor. The scene was dismal, and I sensed vampires around. But there was something strange in them, and aura of evil and disobedience. I staggered upwards and stepped put of the coffin towards the armchair, catching my breath. I didn't know how I was to hunt. I'll have to ask someone, anyone, to get some blood.

I looked out to the door, where Ruthven stood in the door. I was shocked, for he was dressed in black robes, his hat off and hooded, his gloves taken off to reveal his pale hands. He looked like an executioner, a druid of the devil.

"Ruthven? Why…" I wasn't answered, only by him and Violet with the same robes swooping upon me, knocking me out. White hands on my face were all I saw.



I was conscious for a little bit, aware that I was being lifted by two vampires, arm and arm, with a sack over my head. I could have thrown them off, but the mark had weakened me. I wasn't wearing my dress I could tell, but another dress, white and simple, with a gold belt. We were going down stairs, and the place felt dark and humid, then the stairs ended. A door opened and I was taken through, and I was aware of candles and dryness. I heard whispers and stray strands of vampire thoughts. The air was thick with guilt and vile intentions. I gulped. I feared for my life, and Ruthven and Violet had a look of sternness. Were Dracula's words about them true?

The sack over my head was lifted off, and I gasped. A ring of candles was around a glowing red circle and star, and I with my hooded captors was in the middle. I had the notion that the circle was of the symbol of the Order.

"The blood is the life; so be it that we shall drink." Ruthven's voice resounded through the room. It was so dark around the candles that I couldn't see. Then a ring of hooded black figures, their hands holding golden cups, raised them to their lips and drank the blood in them. My captors let me go, and I fell to the floor, where upon one of them brought a cup to my lips and urged me to drink. I was very hungry and my bloodlust made me drink. After it was all gone, my thirst for now satisfied, I realized what I had done. This was a ritual, and I had with my weakness no choice but to fulfill.

My holders left me and became assimilated into the masses. The glowing red symbol on the floor I saw was the Order of the Dragon now. I had kneeled, and saw Ruthven's and Violets searching and evil eyes look upon me.

"Behold one of virtue and a heart of justice has now been seen. And the vampire of the night shall now join the brotherhood for the good of the evil spawn. She has shown admiralty and good purpose against the evils of the world. Now she will develop them in the undead form she now lives in." He took a sword, glinting silver in the candle light, red and silver, with draconic features to it. He raised the sword above his head, casting a shimmering glow that dazzled the room.

"You bloody bastard." I looked at him angrily. He was performing the Order of the Dragon ritual against my will! The contract to their ranks with out my consent! That's why they brought me here to the Grand Mansion. They can only do it here. I stood up; looking around the room, but it was so dark that vampire eyes couldn't penetrate it. I was surrounded by shrouded figures, holding silver daggers now.

"The child that was of the light, now turned into darkness, wishes to redeem herself. And the Order of the Dragon wishes to accept that request." All of the figures nodded in agreement, the daggers raised above their heads, pointing to the heavens. Ruthven advanced slowly, the sword held high and was in front of me, who had not moved in the trapped area.

"Show your master's mark, brave wandering soul."

"Never. I do not want to part of the Order! To fight evil is not my choice! Let me go away I peace! Please, Ruthven, let me live eternity with out struggle." I was pleading with him; I had never thought he would do this. In an instant his hand grasped mine, and squeezed me so hard I fell on my knees, and my hand held high.

"The mark of the master, induct that she is no more under your ownership, and the mark to now bear allegiance to the Order of the Dragon, the force of good for the cursed Nosferatu. She is no more under the influence of good or evil intentions of the master until the blood is spilled once again." My mark and his was glowing red, a light like no other. The others of the order raised their other hand next to the silver blades they held, their master's mark glowing red also. Some were stronger then others, depending on what their masters indicted.

"Let the blood spill and the induction complete." He was about to cut my wrist, and the other's also. I prepared my weak self for the pain of silver. I was to be no longer Dracula's, I thought, but under the order of power and hidden evil I was warned about.

I had expected pain, but it didn't come. Instead, I opened my eyes to hear hisses as a familiar vampire walked onto the circle. Ruthven looked behind him to shroud in surprise and disgust. Count Dracula had barged in on the ceremony. His clothing dark and gray, the strides purposeful. He was certainly trying to project an aura of menace and as a deliverer.

"Master Dracula, you are here just in time to see your power leave this incarnation. She will be ours in a few moments." Ruthven said sternly but a bit weak. He seemed to be defying the voices I was sure Dracula was placing in his head.

"My dear servant, I still have a hold on you when I renewed you. You look strong, but you are weak. You really think that I will lose her when you cut her? Think again, Clarence, think again." Clarence? That was Ruthven's first name? But I had to concentrate, as I was still held in his grip. I didn't know if I should let Ruthven cut me and relieve me of Dracula's ownership, but then I would be indicted in another evil organization, which most likely killed Fallen and my friends Venom and Brimstone! Damn it all. Then the voices of encouraged Dracula were in my head. Then I had the strangest feeling. The veil that the mark placed on my mind was lifting. I was stronger, my weakness lifting. Then I had the strangest idea. I stared at my hand, Ruthven's sword poised over it to slice my skin. With the will building up in me, and my fear lifting, I rebelled against the situation. With anger, I yelled, "NO!"

The strangest thing happened. The mark glowed with a bright red light, and Ruthven's hand let go, and was smoking. Dracula still stood a smile on his face with a glee of aprovement. Ruthven, looking at me horrified, his hand blistered and healing, with a realization on his face. The vampires, the fear scent on them, backed away and started fleeing, with whimpers and frightened glances. They were looking at my eyes.

I stood up with renewed vigor, anger flowing through me and out my palm, as astonished I was the hand projected red beams of light that made the members flee even fast, the beams burning their robes. Soon, only I, Ruthven and Dracula was in the room.

My anger settled down, and I was not weak as before. The glow died down to a faint spark, still there to be ignited when ever.

"Very good, dahling." I hated it when he used that word. It made me feel weak, like a little child. But I wasn't. I hoped not anytime soon. "The mark has given you great power, and I would be proud to teach you well. Come, bride, into your master's arms." I began without thinking to stride over to him, my thoughts and actions only of him. "Yes, master."

Ruthven held me back and shook me. I wanted to strike and kill him, but the hold of Dracula left me. Shaking my head, I realized what I was doing. But I didn't trust Ruthven still, for he was a servant of Dracula and could easily be persuaded to hand me over to him. I was free of both of their grasps.

"I'll never become a Dragon member. Or be Dracula's doll!" Knowing that I had some sort of vampiric beams of red, I was armed a bit. I started backing away, preparing to fly and cast the beams, if I knew how again. I was a vampire too.

"Dahling. dahling, dahling. You are just a fledgling. You don't even know how great an extant of your power is! You are weak and mine for the taking." He held his arms aloof, his expression a mask of puzzlement over a vile grin.

"I am none of you! Be gone, go away, or get hurt!" I was seriously low on my bravery, my moral melting before him, and Ruthven was coming close too. I felt a draft from the exit. This was my chance.

I wisped myself into my white bat form, and turned towards the draft with speed. I felt wing beats immediately behind me, but I didn't look back as I flew out the exit door way, up the narrow stairs but big enough for a large sized bat formed vampire.

I zipped out towards freedom in the great hall, the candles lit as usual. But I was flying for my life, and I turned my head to see them.

Dracula, black as night, his slick black hair and pony tail glinting in the candle light, and stray strands over his ugly maw, his body with spikes, and Ruthven, a deep russet brown with a mop of brown hair and a thinner body then Dracula's, but the same size. His face was much more in his likeness, seeing as the features change to be more animalistic in time. They were both flying and trying to grab me.

Dodging around the columns, Ruthven was faster and was chasing me around, but after a bit it was working out for Dracula, which the chasing led me into his arms. I screamed as his dark arms enclosed around me, a deep evil laugh from his throat. My head was pressed against his chest, my arms held tightly with one arm while the other fended off Ruthven, fury in his eyes as he tried to scratch and claw me out of Dracula's hold. Dracula was fast for being bigger, raking him off while hovering backwards. I didn't know how long it was, the fighting and crashing as we repeatedly slammed into walls, but I was held tight and immovable in his arms. It was only when we landed, and I changed back with Dracula, my mind racked with fear, my breath quick and my mind in despair. Dracula and I were standing on the mantle above the large fire place, the room a mess with crumbling plaster, knocked over torches and blood. Ruthven was standing barely on the other side almost, on the upturned hall table, bloody and scratched, limping wearingly in the black robes he was wearing. Dracula just stood with me held close like a hug, I only saw with my head turned back. The cold from him seeped through my silky white dress. He was laughing, and only a few cuts with minor blood flow were all I could see. Ruthven was not winning, in fact, he could very well die.

"You have disobeyed me, Clarence. You have failed in claiming my bride and trying to indict her into your service." Claiming me as Ruthven's bride? Was that true, his fight was of jealousy? "I am afraid that you have defied me for the last time. She is mine forever, and you shall never see her again. Come get me, vampire slave."

Ruthven had anger in his eyes as he stood stock still, trying to catch his breath. When he still had not moved, Dracula pulled me closer to him roughly, and Dracula's hot breath was heavy and sticky on my face, his eyes looking at Ruthven, his lips closer to mine to invite a kiss. Ruthven couldn't stand it any longer. He launched forward, his body morphing as it went his words to the pleading, "No!"

He was stopped in mid air as a black bat shape descended and blocked his path. The long black mane of hair and the muscular body I recognized with hope as Fallen Angel. He had grabbed Ruthven and stopped him from charging, other wise Dracula was now ready leap out of the way. I looked at Dracula's face. It was of surprise.

"Ruthven? I thought you killed him!" Dracula snarled and swooped with quick speed with me at the other side of the room, upside down. Fallen turned along with Ruthven to face us. Hope grew again, as Fallen clutched my golden sword.

"Yes, I live, Dracula. Ruthven and Violet wanted her to be part of this Order, not for you to claim her. 'Course, Ruthven had to follow your orders, and, well, it turned out all right." Fallen had a gleam in his eye, and Ruthven stood along side him. "I will claim her, Dracula, and you shall never rise again. Behold, the Order of the Dragon waits to fight you." Ruthven outspreaded his hands as he said that, and Vampires, including Venom and Brimstone and the others, were striding in armed to the teeth.

"Claim?" Fallen turned towards Ruthven, with anger in his eyes. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" He grabbed Ruthven with his grip, teeth bared. "MY DAUGHTER WILL NOT BE YOUR BRIDE!"

The entire room was aghast. Hisses and whispers were every where, and I was dumbstruck. I could have fainted. Fallen was my father. The leader of the Order of the Dragon, the religious, quiet man I knew, was a vampire in my midst all along. I should have noticed years earlier.

Laughter erupted from Dracula, making the scene more awkward. "I knew all along, that your pathetic order was led by the world renowned vampire killer. See, Gabriel, how this truth you had hid from your beloved daughter has shaken her trust." He went behind me, twirling my hair and chuckling even more. I was weak with the realization, and closed my eyes in tears. "Baht, Gabriel, I killed you and made sure that you would not rise! I admit to be bewildered by your undead resurrection."

Father started to stride over slowly, my sword drawn in his hands. "That night I felt evil come, and so I was ready to fight. I made sure that my sword was given to Anne, and made the preparations necessary. Unexpectedly, you were the visitor, and killed me. Anne called the society and took my body to the Vatican. They tried to preserve me, for I was the angel Gabriel on earth, and very valuable to the corrupted holy knights at that time." He took the bandana off his mouth and I saw his full face for the first time. It was my father, young and unshaven, love and sadness on his face. I had known him for 30 years as harsh and tough, hiding his un-dying love for his daughter he did not reveal to.

"Why, father, why?" I whimpered, Dracula's squeeze even harder.

He didn't answer, but continued. "The life essence is still in the body when a vampire bites, we all know. The soul stays with the vampire victim, like a ghost trapped in a shell. Using a ritual or somehow or another, they didn't tell me, God let me live, and they bit my soul infused body from a vampire three times, for to come back, the only way I was to be alive again was to be a vampire." He looked at me, pleading in his eyes. "The knights had changed since I retired, and wanted to use me. I left them and met the Order, easily becoming its leader and to suit its needs to mine. The world would be a better place under vampiric rule, but not under the ruling of evil vampires. Don't you see, Anne, that the world needs powerful leaders? The Order of the Dragon is doing well to the world."

"How can you be my father if you didn't care for me? Your vampiric powers have taken you over! You were devout and didn't want to change the world when I knew you! You have changed for the worst. Please, come back, leave this place, and we can live happily as a family again. Please?" I didn't like this at all. His eyes, his form, his changed ambitions; I wanted away from Dracula and to be with my father, if he changed back. The Order was evil, and so was Dracula. The holy order of knights was vile too. What hope was in the world now?

"Anne, I have always loved you, and we can be happy together leading the world to freedom of its oppressors. Understand that if I revealed to them that I was the leading vampire killer, and that you were my daughter, they would have killed me and you! Only I and Ruthven held them at bay from getting you. I have found a future in my existence. I want you to share it with me." He started crying, unaware that Ruthven pulled out his black gun.

"Look out!" but it was too late. A gun shot resounded through the hall as a bullet hit him in the heart. Dracula, pulling me along descended on near father's twitching body. He let me go as I ran over and knelt by his side. Father was twitching, as he was slowly disintegrating into dust.

"I don't want to change the world, father." I managed to say.

"Don't worry…Anne…I…never talked to…you fatherly…because I…wanted you…to be strong enough and…become a true vampire." He wheezed as his legs and fingertips turned to dust. "You must…fight to…get where you want to go…as a…vampire. I…love…you." He motioned towards my sword on the floor next to him. I got the hint. Dracula was standing above me. I had a chance.

The moment that the famous Van Helsing turned to dust in my hands, Ruthven whipped his other twin pistol up and shot at Dracula. I heard an unearthly scream from Count Dracula and I looked back. Dracula, with two silver bullets in his chest, staggered backwards with hollow retching. This was the chance for me to grab my sword and run up to Dracula. I was charging and ready to stab, when I heard screaming, commanding voices in my head. I stopped, holding my head, my ears ringing with Dracula's calls to stop. I looked up, my teeth clenched; my will refusing to move me forward, as Dracula was backing away, clutching his chest as he crawled up the wall a stained glass window. I looked around through the pain and saw that Ruthven and all the other vampires also were receiving his voices. Dracula's face was of pain and defeat; he was running away. He stood exuberantly on the precipice against the window, surveying the surroundings that he was leaving. If he didn't command me, I would have killed him with the two bullets and my sword. But the voices were stronger, and I fell to the ground in moaning pain. Damn him to Hell! Murderer, tormentor, impaler of thousands!

"You may have escaped from my clutches this time. But the next time, there will be no escape!" He gave a grin, hiding poorly his pain. He turned, and with his fists broke a hole in the window large enough to walk through. It was raining, and lightning flashed outside. He gave an evil laugh, and jumped out. Staring in wonder, not at his leaving, not at the vanished voices, not of sadness, but at the window.

Ruthven placed his now comforting hand on my shoulder, recovered from the spasms of commands. "What do you see?"

"Look."

The window, broken at the base, was of a woman, hair shaven and wearing linen clothing. She was tied to a burning stake, in the middle of a cobblestone square, town houses around it. People were jeering, and on a wooden podium were priests, halos on their heads. The woman held a cross of wood, and doves flew in the blue sky, and a light shone from heaven. The young woman's face was of evil; she had bared teeth, and evil eyes. And wrapped around her tied to the pole, was the unmistakable red colored devil, winged and tailed, snarling and clawed, hugging her, like claiming her place in Hell.

And at the top, in stained glass, were the Latin words: The Burning of Joan de Arc.

I fainted in Ruthven's arms.



The new night dawned on the moor. It was a dismal night, rain pouring down but thankfully no lightning. The little mausoleum that stood on the hill, white marble and dripping with the rain. The stone precipice, home to my father's ashes, encased in silver so he will never rise again, and a carefully placed cross on the lid. The rites were said and the vampires of the order left already. Only Venom, Brimstone and I were standing there. I placed a daisy on the grave marker, the words Gabriel Van Helsing etched on the door. I remembered then the meadow that I played in, on the Sunday that my father died. Yes, I remember now, the bright sun, making daisy chains in the meadow at Purfleet, England. I hoped to go to my old house again, perhaps see what was left of my belongings and his. The Vatican probably cleaned it out. But father had lots of secrets.

"I didn't know he was…the vampire murderer. Ruthven must have known along with Violet." Venom stood besides me, her hand on my shoulder. She had a scar on her face from a silver blade, and those wounds took a while to heal. Her presence was like a mother. Now, Brimstone behind me smoking his cigar in the rain was the closest to a father figure, but that wasn't very good.

"I can't come with you to England, Anne. My purpose is here with the Order. Now that Ruthven's gone, we and the other misled group will be under Violet's purpose." She sighed and let her hand fall. "I hope you find a future. Away from Dracula." I turned towards her, her face stark and trying to hide tears. I would miss her, my other friend vampire in the world now.

"Good luck, lassie. You were a humorous spark in 'ah fight' in lives. It's ah shame ta see ya go." Brimstone, my other friend, patted me on the shoulder and gave me a big hug. I didn't mind the cigar smell. I was just glad. Vampires can get friendly, and are naturally inclined to gang up when threatened. But most of the time we all felt solitary. At least we three tried to act more human. Now I will separate to find a life of my own. I already booked a boat to America after my visit to old Britain. I was sick of the old country.

"I'll miss you all. I hope to meet again in the near future." I didn't feel much compassion. My mind was in turmoil, betrayal, fear, and sadness. I was to strike out on my own, and live a future that I want to the best of my abilities.

Venom and Brimstone left me alone in the dreary rain. The night was lit well with my night vision. There I stood, preparing for a future I never wanted, alone unless I find another. Or be found again. I could take care of myself now, I think.

Turning away, the onset of the new day nearing, I saw Violet standing on the high hill at the end of the cemetery. But in a blink she was gone. She was watching me.

With sorrow in my heart, I took strides over to the hill, and saw the beautiful scene before me. The Carpathian Mountains, with snow on the peeks, and the cloud cover grayer then the night, rain falling gently on the forest and scattered meadows. For the years ahead, I thought, my mind might be forever that way, sad and beautiful. A warm mortal hand was placed on my shoulder.

"I'm glad you never submitted yourself to the Order of the Dragon. And to the Vatican." Said wearily Father Christian. I turned to see him, with bite wounds on his neck, and on crutches. "I was thankful that they didn't drain all my blood for your swearing in."

"I didn't expect to see you again, Father." I said, and was surprised at myself how cold I was. The events must have affected me greatly.

"Part of their ceremonies involves blood draining. I was the victim and stuffed in a sack. You thought me killed. Well, I can't force you now to come with me in my condition." He looked at me with a look of realization. "You have made a choice; and it is wrong to force someone to work against their will. I should have realized it earlier. I will make your case to the holy order." If I wasn't so gloomy, I would have smiled at the relief of the Vatican pursuing me no more. One less thing to worry about. He started walking away. "The order was kind enough to release me. I assure you, we will do everything we can to hunt down Dracula. God speed." He walked down the hill, and I felt dawn rise.

The little shrine of the dead vampire hunter would strike the first light of every new day. A joy he hadn't felt for decades. It would be a little while for me though.

Alone at last, I sighed. Death had finally come to my changed father. I was hidden, persecuted, and alone and needed him in my new way of life. But he didn't come. I didn't want to be like him. But perhaps I'll have too.

Then I looked up at the little rays of dawn. The rain had stopped, and I heard a bird sing out. The mists of the rain were flowing around me, and I thought I saw a man in the mist.

I couldn't believe my eyes: It was father, old and kind, his dog eared fedora, half moon glasses, and gray long hair. He smiled at me, I couldn't help but cry. He disappeared into the air, and the rain clouds were floating by, and I saw his face in them. He was crying too, and other faces were around him, beholding light I had never seen. I heard voices, kind and chorused.

"Sleep in the day, child. Your time will come when you can see your family." Was what my thought's strung together. I listened.

Good bye, I thought in my head.

I started to turn, and saw another face in the clouds. Of a beautiful young woman, holding a flag with lilies, and wearing amour. She had my eyes and face. And she nodded.

I nodded back.

I walked with another new beginning in mind. To strike out freer then any human. The sun was coming, and my resting place called.

I am vampire.



The master rested deeply, healing his wounds. The servant was coming, for he called him. An assignment was needed, and lost items returning. His vessel will be free, but for a short while. The demon prince will rise to power, and traps to be laid. The unwary will fall and be used, and brought to the mark maker. The mark bearer will cry and find true comfort with its leader. For that is the way it folds.

The wild man will live long. And despair will come from Devil's wings.

The End