Carl stepped out the door, closing it gently behind him. He shuffled forward and started to head down the steps, only to halt in shock. A bloody, crumpled man lay on the steps face-down with one hand extended, as if reaching for the top of the steps.
"Van Helsing!" Carl fled back into the building calling for help.
Van Helsing woke slowly, his limbs still heavy from deep sleep. Savoring the release from cold oblivion, he took a deep breath. He instantly regretted doing so, for pain ran sharply through his chest and sides. He dragged his eyes open, finding only a bland ceiling to meet his gaze. He started to sit up, only to have Carl appear and push him back down.
"You are not going to strain yourself this time, Van Helsing. Not after being beaten to a bloody pulp," Carl's eyes dared him to protest.
"And what makes you think I'll obey?" Van Helsing studied him curiously.
"You owe me for losing my inventions," Carl replied, rather sharply.
Van Helsing grimaced. "Fine," he yielded, "any idea what the next assignment will be?"
Carl shook his head. "It's always about assignments with you."
Van Helsing glared at him.
Carl raised his hands defensively. "I heard something about a demon. Other than that, I don't know."
Van Helsing nodded in satisfaction and laid his head back, staring at the ceiling.
Carl sighed. "You know if you keep throwing yourself towards the next assignment they'll forget you need rest and you'll never get a chance to work on your faith."
"I'm working on earning redemption, Carl."
Carl opened his mouth to reply, shook his head, and left the room.