Phantom of your Nightmares

A/N: Rather unoriginal title? No? Well I'm comforted, lol. Anyways, here it is, another rather strange story I came up with. Not for quite a while, so I hope many of my other reviewers of the other story will forgive me. But anyhow, here it is. You know, it feels strange. I actually thought of this idea while looking through the 'endangered species' websites. Now isn't that awkward? But I guess you know now where my head is poking through every now and then. I love animals, so I do dearly wanna help. lol O.O;; Anyways, here's the summary, if you like how it goes so far, then you can move onto the story. Please review and tell me what you think! ;) Greatly appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything inside or outside Van Helsing, the movie, though I dearly wish I do because then I would be owning a bit more than this story. But anyhow, all I own is my terribly awkward but interesting plot, ideas, characters. So no touchy there! Thanks!

Summary: Someone is hunting werewolves, but not to end their reign or terror. For their parts. Van Helsing now must go investigate, but unfortunately he himself is still tainted with the curse. What will happen to Van Helsing's fate?

Ok、 bawring? Well, go on, move along to the story. Shoo!

Regrettable Choice

A terrible howl echoed through the cold forest. Whatever creature the howl had come from, it was terribly wounded or had just been killed. Not one breathing man or woman bothered to investigate, for those woods would be the perfect place for a werewolf to grab them and rip them to shreds. But it had been rather strange lately, it scared the villagers. There was no sign of death in the village and even though the villagers were relieved with this fact, they were more worried now about the stranger. The man that had come to their village some time ago to 'hunt and kill werewolves for humanity'.

But the people of the village were smarter than that. They knew something was up. For although they were grateful for the stranger, there was something quite wrong about him. When he came back, one of the villagers noted, he always carried a big sack with something large in it. Worried glances and whispers was all that villager got for telling his fellow members. But certainly, rumor was now spreading, and now even farther through towards the cities. There was something evil about the man's doing.

So when they heard the terrible howl that sounded more like a death cry rather than a vicious hungry cry, the villagers knew the man had killed the werewolf in the forest. But it was still howling. If the man had killed the werewolf, it would have been swift. Why was the man pausing to kill? Finally the forest echoed with three deafening sounds of bullets whizzing through to meet flesh. A flock of crows, frightened by the sudden noise, flew into the air, leaving behind black feathers that disappeared into shadow.

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Nigel Koster was curious. He wanted to know what the man was doing. He heard from his father the deeds the man had done for the village, but with a cost it seemed. Yet somehow Nigel secretly admired the mysterious man. The stranger was helping the village. That was all that mattered... wasn't it?

Nigel dressed up quickly into his hunting clothes and picking up a pistol. He put it his belt and tightening the belt so the pistol wouldn't slip away while he was running or walking. He was sixteen now and he can handle himself alright, with or without his parents. His father was out anyway for business, crossing the sea and his mother was sleeping above her room soundly. Slipping his boots into his feet, he put his knife into it, hidden away, and brushed his hair back quickly with a flick of his hand. He was only going to have a look, a simple glance wouldn't hurt.

Nigel got off his bed and started to walk down the wooden creaking steps. He carefully did so, trying his best not to make any more sound. His mother will get angry at him if he was found. Finally his boots landed on the ground and he grabbed his coat, wearing it roughly on him. Pushing the door of his house, he locked it quickly and ran out of it, rushing through the night. Most of the time, it would have been dangerous for anyone his age to get out. But now that the werewolves were killed by the stranger, the villagers were safe from attacks. The night shift guards had disappeared because of this, and there was a bit more cheerfulness in the night now. And yet something clung to the air, foul and untrustworthy.

Nigel noticed none of this as his boots sank a bit into the wet dirt, or mud, since it had rained that morning. But it was drying up, slowly from the looks of it. Nigel ruffled his hair, which was dark chocolate and looked up at the full moon. It sprayed light at Nigel and at the village. Nigel smiled as his also brown eyes watered from the cold. It was beginning to come closer to winter, and soon the wind will carry not just cold wind but snow that will glisten on the ground as it mounts. Icicles will hang on the edges of the houses' roofs. Soon enough, light will pour down onto the snow and melt it away, telling the villager's a new year has come.

Nigel started to walk towards the forest. He was nervous, he couldn't deny that. But what he also felt was not fear, but excitement. He hadn't felt so much of this feeling since his childhood, but even in his childhood, his memories included limited times when he felt excitement as hard as this. One of them was the thought of meeting the man. He was a hunter, Nigel knew, but he hadn't exactly seen his face in person, although he did see the color of the man's hair from the hood that he always wore over his face. It had been coal black, and straight as well. Warmth rushed towards his cheek as he wondered what he would say to the man.

His foot landed on mud, each time he took a step. As he continued on towards the forest, more trees surrounded him, confusing his path. Twigs littered the ground, as if someone had purposefully plucked it off the trees and decorated it on the ground. Nigel grimaced at the idea of getting lost. Even though the stranger had probably killed off all the werewolves living in this forest, he was still nervous with the fact that he might get killed. If there was ever a slight chance that one werewolf lived, Nigel would be no more then food for the creature. He wouldn't stand a chance, even with his pistol. Nigel now regreted the thought of going into the forest alone. Perhaps he should have brought his friend, Magel, with him. The forest seemed like the perfect place for anything vile and hungry to attack its prey.

There was a sudden sound of a twig snapping and Nigel quickly looked back at his shoulder, his eyes round with fear. But the boy listened closely. It wasn't the familiar sound of the twig snapping under the weight of a werewolf. It was the sound of a boot crushing the twig in half! Nigel felt relief come back to him. He followed the sound of the breaking twigs and saw the back of the man's shoulder. Delighted, Nigel started to walk up to the man to patt his shoulder. Instead he stopped as a horrible stench, mixed with the smell of blood and fur, filled his nostrils. His eyes widened as he saw what the man was doing. Mouth gaping open to croak a scream of fear and horror, he muffled it as best he can and ran as fast as he can away from the strange man and the werewolf corpse.

A/N: Now what do you think Nigel saw the man doing:) I hope you review!