To Hell(sing)
Rachel, The Lady Tigress
The sword rose higher, in preparation. The blow would be swift and sure. Death would be swift and sure. There would be no mistake.No, don't. Please don't.
No, there would be no stopping this death. It was an honorable death, a warrior's death. What more could one ask for?
No! Stop! PLEASE! STOP! PLEASE!
The sword was thrust forward with all the power that could be utilized. With surprisingly little effort that blade pressed through skin, flesh, muscle, and bone, to find the beating heart.
"NOOOOO!"
"NO!"
The horrified cry brought the slumbering boy into full awareness. Sweat dripped from his face to dampen the sheets now twisted around him. Panicked, the boy's eyes darted from shadow to shadow, searching for any menace that might be hidden in the dark.
Nothing. There was nothing. Only the familiar shapes of the furniture that sparsely decorated the room. It was only a dream. Exhausted, the boy – a man really, for soon he would take his place at his father's side – flopped back down into the mattress.
Why did he keep having these dreams? Always they were different, but always they were the same. They started with him racing through shadows and mists, and then... Well, the boy could never remember the 'and thens,' but one thing he was certain of. The dreams always ended in death. Sometimes the manner of the deaths differed – daggers, throwing knives, falling from great heights, arrows, being crushed, or some hand-held weapon the he had never seen before – but always death was the ending.
Tonight's manner of murder happened to be with a weapon that he was intimately familiar with – a sword. As the second eldest son of prominent family it was his duty to become a warrior and learn a warrior's weapon so that he could protect his family and his people. Yes, he knew the sword very well.
Especially since his elder brother had voyaged off to Rome to seek the blessings of God to lead the family. Father was still alive, thank the Mother, but his rule was failing. The time was soon drawing near for the old to step down, and make way for the new. And the new was very strong indeed.
With these thoughts in his mind the young boy closed his eyes, and tried to let sleep claim him. Morning would come soon enough, and the dreams never came twice in one night.
Still, as sleep drew its cloud over him, Gabriel Vilarius couldn't help but wonder why he was so terrified of deaths that were never his own.
Author's Notes and Disclaimer: No, I do not own Van Helsing. Dunno who does, but it ain't me. Okay, children, if you're reading this then this means SOMETHING about this story must have caught you, so let me explain on or two things (without giving anything away. Well, first off, this story is chronicle Gabriel's past. Yes, I know that the title is misspelled; it's supposed to be. It's meant to be a double entedee to hint two things. One would be like "To Hell" like a voyage. The other to be like "Into Van Helsing" – or how Gabriel grows from one person into another. And no, don't feel creeped out that I indicated that Gabriel was a direct Vilarius and so related to Anna. He's over 400 years old (remember in the movie he's the one who originally murdered Dracula before he became Dracula?) so the blood relation between the two would be extremely minimal. This is strictly movie-verse. Anyway, don't forget the R's. You read, you review. Good, bad or ugly, I want to know. Thank you guys! Rachel, The Lady Tigress