Van Helsing 2

by a fan fic fan

When a serial killer gets his hands on the Invisible Man’s invisibility serum, the Knights of the Holy Order bring in Van Helsing, along with some new monster-killers, to stop him. Includes other classic monster icons. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

2. Part 2

Chapter 4

"That laugh, where's it coming from?!" yelled Van Helsing, pulling out two pistols from his coat with fluid-like movements.

The insane cackling got louder and louder. It seemed to be coming from every direction, suffocating them.

All four looked around frantically and then at each other, all thinking the same thing.

Suddenly, Van Helsing felt something slam into his chest, knocking him several feet into the air and into a hand-crafted bookcase. He had felt something crack as he fell, although he wasn't sure if it had been the wood on the bookcase or his ribs. He would find out soon enough. Whatever had hit him, he knew three things about it. One, he hadn't seen anything coming at or connecting with him. Two, there was more than one object that connected with him. Three, the objects felt like human fists.

Jonathan remembered his hidden pistol in his coat. He pulled it out, his eyes searching carefully. Van Helsing stood up, groggily. Carl was leaning against a wall, completely and truly terrified. And still, the laughter rang through the house.

Jonathan, seeing a vase fall to the ground, fired two rounds into the wall near the fall, but still the laughter continued.

Van Helsing was still attempting to gather what was left of his wits. Whatever hit him took more out of him than he first realized. He felt like he had just gotten run over with a horse carriage… including several horses. He groaned. Maybe several dozen would be more appropriate in describing the pain.

Mina flew into the air with a sudden jolt and fell back to the floor on her back. Another crack, although nothing she couldn't shrug off after a moment. A disembodied voice replaced the laughter. "Are we all having fun yet?"

Even though the voice was completely foreign to him, Van Helsing felt as if he could recognize it immediately. Although he had never heard it before, he knew exactly who it was.

"Jack Bronson."

Van Helsing's eyes narrowed around the room. "I should have realized that you would have follow us. Know your enemy."

"Well said, my friend," said the voice, followed by a chuckle. Good, Van Helsing thought. Make him feel cocky. Cocky villains are always the ones that make mistakes.

Mina jumped up from the ground in such a swift movement that Van Helsing missed it entirely. In less than a second, Mina was standing. And just as fast, she kicked upwards in an arc. A groan of pain rewarded her efforts.

"Sorry," she said, "but no naked man is getting his hands anywhere near me while I can help it."

The growl of pain turned into a sickening chuckle.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Murray," said Bronson. His voice still held a casual, nonchalant tone. "And don't worry; I'm not the groping sort."

"Well, you know us London girls," replied Mina, just as casual, "we don't like taking any chances with all you hormonal men—"

Mina flew backwards in unexpected pain. Van Helsing used the moment of Mina on the ground to let loose a barrage of bullets in the place where Bronson should have been standing. But, yet again, the bullets slammed harmlessly into the opposite wall. She jumped back up to her feet, and kicked hard at what looked for like nothing but air. But her foot connected with something. Bronson shrieked in a high voice. Apparently, thought Van Helsing, Mina connected with a much more painful area. Then there was only silence. Mina looked at Van Helsing and Jonathan with a question in her eyes.

"Did I knock him out?"

"I don't know…" said Van Helsing thoughtfully. He knew that connecting like that had the power to down a man. But Bronson was no ordinary man.

Mina slowly traced her foot down on the floor; feeling for the unconscious body that they all hoped was there. But there was nothing there. Just as they feared. Bronson was still there.

"He's not here. Keep your eyes peeled—?" started Mina, but then something solid slammed into Jonathan, knocking him up towards the ceiling and back down with a crash. The insane laughter returned.

"Haven't you learned yet that you can't fight what you can't see?" the invisible man scoffed, his voice mocking and condescending.

"Maybe you're right," replied Van Helsing, "but I can sure try."

Bronson laughed again. Just as quickly, several things happened at once. Mina slammed head-first into a wall. Harker slumped to the ground forcibly as he started to stand up. Carl screamed as his head pounded into the wall he was again. All three were on the ground. Now it was only Van Helsing and Bronson.

Van Helsing fired both of his pistols in an arc, making sure that he didn't hit Carl, Mina, or Jonathan.

But as soon as he fired the first bullet, Van Helsing's pistols flew into the air after something feeling very close to a wrist slammed into his arms, and he felt the air leave his body as Bronson connected his fist with his chest.

Van Helsing fell to the floor with a groan. He felt something heavy push against him. Kneeling directly on top of him, making it sure that he couldn't move. Van Helsing felt hot breath against his face. He saw one of his fallen gun lift into the air, and aim directly at his head.

"I would have thought that being so high in the Order would have given you more common sense," Bronson sneered. "Enough common sense to know to not get involved with the likes of me. Too late now, you know. Just an observation." The pistol cocked. "Too bad the Order didn't teach you more on matters of survival."

"They did me."

Unexpectedly, something smashed into Bronson. The bulk that was on top of Van Helsing suddenly lifted. He then heard an audible grunt as Bronson hit the floor with a crash. .
"And I learned well." Helsing then realized that the voice was Carl's.

He looked up, and saw that Carl was standing in front of him, and on the floor were the remains of a priceless vase. Mina and Harker were standing up behind Carl carefully. Bronson must have hit them as hard as he had hit him.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Harker," Carl said sheepishly, turning slightly to the owner of the vase. "But I… well, saw my chance—"

"You took it," finished Jonathan, smiling faintly. The smile seemed at odds with the present situation. "Don't worry about it. I didn't like the color anyway. Why wants to own a puce—?"

Then another vase shattered near them. The pistol in Van Helsing's hand twirled athletically, firing several rounds into the wall near the fallen vase.

"Oh, what fun!" laughed Bronson, "although I am sure, Van Helsing, that Mister Harker does not appreciate having his living room redecorated. I do think that this would be much more interesting if you were a better shot."

"How to you know my name?" snarled Van Helsing. He backed up, so that all four were together, back to back against the wall.

"Well, it wasn't that hard to figure out, you know," replied Bronson, taking the manner of one explaining the climax of a mystery novel. "Your face is quite well known abroad. And as for your plot…" he smiled. "Let's just say you should guard what you say more thoroughly. Although I have to admit that your plan has merit, it has much to be desired."

Bronson laughed again. There was still no sign of the man. No random movement or mistake gave him away.

"And what is left to be desired?" asked Van Helsing, now just playing for time; time that Bronson could make a mistake.

"Oh, well, for starters, you are not thinking about one major fact… what if something tragic would happen to poor Harker here? With him dead, you have nothing."

Then Jonathan felt himself grabbed by the throat, and thrown to the ground. The hand tightened and tightened. Jonathan could see Van Helsing with his raised guns, but knew that Van Helsing didn't want to risk hitting him by mistake. Darkness started to cloud his eyes.

So this is how it will end, thought Jonathan. This is how my life as a monster-killer is going to end; being killed by an average serial killer after my retirement. I hate irony.

He started to close his eyes, as a sweet, lovely sensation covered the knowledge that he was in the throes of being strangled. So this was what it felt like to die. He had come close several times before. But never like this. It was time to give in… to sleep…

Then he heard a pain-filled cry, and the pressure at his neck was gone altogether.

Then he felt himself fall into deep unconsciousness…

"Is he dead?"

Jonathan suddenly awoke mentally when he heard the voice of Van Helsing.

Jonathan felt another pair of hands surround his neck. But these were different than the last ones. The other pair of hands was coarse, gritty, and painful. They had also tried to kill him. But these new hands… they touched his skin so softly, so delicately… they almost felt… familiar…

He remembered the same hands used to caress his face, and he remembered his own hands trailing themselves over another face… the face of a woman…

Jonathan opened his eyes slowly. He saw Mina kneeling over him, looking at him carefully and he saw that it was her hands that were on him. For a moment, and just for a moment, Jonathan thought he saw love in her eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by the familiar coldness. She must have seen him awake.

"No… he's alive," she said, removing her hands from Jonathan. Jonathan stood up. He looked around groggily.

"Where's Bronson?" he asked, not seeing any signs of the madman… except for a broken window.

"You can thank Mina for that," replied Van Helsing, "when she saw you getting strangled she lunged at Bronson with such unnatural speed that it took Bronson by surprise. Mina slammed into him full-force, crashing them both out of the front window and out into the street. By then, Bronson was gone."

Jonathan groaned loudly, gingerly rubbing the bruises on his neck. His back felt pain. Probably came from falling on the floor so hard.

"We had better leave here as quickly as possible," said Mina, looking around at the bullet holes in the walls. "Before he comes back."

"Yes, We wouldn't want sir no-clothes-required coming back, now do we?" asked Carl.

Jonathan said nothing, deep in thought.

"How are we to make sure that he isn't following us from this point on?" Carl asked.

"He won't," said Van Helsing.

"What's makes you so sure?" asked Mina.

"He has no reason to follow us from this point," replied Van Helsing, "he wants to get to the Black Lagoon, and he wants to get there as soon as possible. He's not going to stop just to make sure we aren't following him, which he is sure we are going to do."

"Well," said Mina, a charming smile coming to her lips, "I have never been one to disappoint…"

Chapter 5

Van Helsing, Carl, Harker, and Mina were all sitting at a small table, inside a quaint little bar they had found not far from Harker's home. Though the prices were a bit high, the food was not bad at all (although, health-wise, the food was the equivalent of a bowl of grease and pork fat). Van Helsing was slowly chewing a tough piece of steak, while Mina and Jonathan had both gotten the meat and vegetable stew order.

Carl, on the other hand, was quite shocked and horrified at the conditions of the tavern.
"Look at this!" exclaimed the poor friar, shoving an empty plate into Van Helsing's face. Van Helsing looked at the plate, clearly confused. "Um, Carl…?" he said uncertainly, "What's wrong with it?"

"No, look!" Carl snarled, pushing the cup more into Van Helsing's face. "Look at how filthy it is!" Carl took a deep breath in horror. "And to think that this tavern is allowed to stay open… I'll never understand this."

"Don't try, Carl," said Mina, her eyes of the friar, "only those raised in dank places like this know that hygiene is not on the top list of priorities. Surviving is hard enough in these parts."

Carl looked at Mina, silently contemplating her words. Jonathan put down his mug of cheap beer with a thud, making the other three of the group look at him.

But Jonathan had his eyes fixed on Van Helsing. "So, Van Helsing," he said quietly, "what is your plan of action?"

Van Helsing looked at the three faces now directed at him. They all were looking at him as a leader.

Anger nested itself into his heart. This was exactly why he didn't like to have partners. They all expected him to lead them into Hell and back again. But what if he didn't want to be the leader. What if he failed? What if Harker and Murray died like Anna? Once was more than he could bear, but not again… not again would he let that happen. The two former Order members could hold their own in such an assignment, they didn't need him… but then why were they willing to follow him?

"Van Helsing?"

Van Helsing looked up at Mina, who was looking at him with a sense of understanding in her eyes.

Van Helsing coughed. "There are some things we need to talk about before we do anything else."

"And what would that be?" asked Mina.

"Motivation... we can't go after him unless we know why he's going there."

"Let's start from the beginning, then," said Jonathan.

Van Helsing thought about everything the Cardinal had told him. "I have a feeling that Bronson's plan has something to do with when Griffin died. How did Bronson know about the serum, and on top of that, how did he know that the Order had it? That would take a lot of preliminary planning.

"The one thing that keeps jumping at me how everything linked to Griffin was mysteriously destroyed, as well as the people who knew him. I have a feeling that Bronson was linked from the beginning."

"An interesting theory," said Jonathan. "But if there was such a link, I'm sure the Order would have found it."

"Then who destroyed everything after Griffin died?" asked Carl. "There has to be someone else behind the scenes here. Those people didn't just kill themselves."

"I didn't say they did," said Jonathan. "I agree that there is foul play involved. I'm just saying I think it's kind of a reach going for Bronson."

Van Helsing raised his hands upwards. "Alright, we just need to know the questions to be asking ourselves. The big question that has the most to do with this situation is this; why is Bronson so interested in the Black Lagoon?"

No one answered. Each person was trying to think of an answer.

"Could it have something to do with the treasure supposedly hidden there?" asked Carl.

"Possibly," said Jonathan. "But I have a feeling that Bronson's plans include the Creature."

"But why would he want anything from the Creature?" asked Mina. "It doesn't make sense."

"The mind of a madman makes sense only to the madman himself," said Van Helsing. "But I have found that in the madman's mind, there is always a flicker of reason within it. Those madmen that have the flicker of reason are always the most dangerous criminals of all."

"And it is plain to see that Bronson's motives have more than a flick of reason. It seems that his warped sense of reason is what drives him."

"A terrifying thought, indeed," said Jonathan, taking a sip of his alcohol.

"We all know that we need to get to the Black Lagoon to stop Bronson," said Van Helsing. The other three nodded.

"But Bronson was right about one thing, and that was when he said we can't fight what we can't see… which means that we need to learn if our enemy has a weakness."

Jonathan's eyes lit up in understanding.

"So what you are proposing," said Jonathan thoughtfully, "is that we try to find out if there are any faults with the invisibility serum."

Van Helsing nodded. "But we should start immediately for the Black Lagoon. If we don't, Bronson will have accomplished his goal before we are anywhere close. So I think that we split into two groups, one to trace all the steps of John Griffin, find out if the first sweep missed anything, while—"

"I was part of the first sweep, Van Helsing," said Mina, "and I know that we didn't miss anything."

"For all our sakes, I hope you did miss something," replied Van Helsing coldly. Mina was silent.

"Harker, you and I will go to the Black Lagoon. Mina, you and Carl will go retrace your steps in your investigation on John Griffin. If you find anything, I know that you have…" Van Helsing raised an eyebrow, "talents­ that can get you there as soon as you find anything."

He looked at the other three, who were all thinking carefully.

"Well?" asked Van Helsing, looking from one person to another. "Harker?"

Jonathan thought for another moment, and then sighed thoughtfully. "It is a good plan, I dare say," he finally said begrudgingly, "but there is too much that can go wrong."

"True," said Mina, "but I think that it is the best course of action for an assignment such as this."

Carl put his hand up meekly.

"What?" Van Helsing asked, irritability heard in his voice.

"What if I don't want to go with Mina?" Carl asked.

Mina stared daggers at Carl, making the poor, terrified friar shrink back deep to the side of the table.

"Well…" he stuttered, looking at Mina as if she was about to sprout her ever-present fangs on him, "just curious if I had a choice."

"Sorry, Carl, not this time," replied Van Helsing, "unless you want to go back into your little basement at the Order and work on experiments that have the other clerics giving you the nickname 'friar blow-me-up'."

"I happen to dislike that comment!" Carl said, looking hurt.

"Oh, get over it," muttered Mina, but having a small twinkle of amusement in her eye.

"When do you want to leave?" asked Jonathan.

"Tomorrow morning," replied Van Helsing, sipping the last of his beer, "we'll take the night off… we're going to need it."

"We have the extra map in case we find anything," said Mina, early the next morning. "You don't need to worry about us."

The group of four was standing outside the inn, watching as the sun rose into the sky.

Each person had a horse, which Van Helsing had bought for an extremely horrendous price from the innkeeper. They had been planning on getting four horses and a carriage for Mina, but the woman protested so vehemently that they were forced to get just the horses They were all saying their good-byes; for indeed this could be the last time they saw each other.

Van Helsing shook Mina's hand energetically. "I'm sure you'll be fine," he said, and then smiled. "I'm just worried about Carl."

Mina smiled back. "Don't worry, I have had my fair share of jobs as a body-guard for marked men," she said, "and I am sure that, at worst, the friar is wanted only by local tavern girls back in Rome."

"I resent that!" Carl yelled at her, as Jonathan was giving him instructions.

Mina turned back to Van Helsing, and for a moment, Van Helsing was surprised to see her look almost… vulnerable.

"You'll keep an eye on Harker, won't you?" she asked, her voice low. "I'll watch him as best I can, Mina," replied Van Helsing, "but I have a feeling that he's going to watch my back on this mission as well."

Mina smiled again, but Van Helsing could see that she looked worried.

Then Carl came up to Van Helsing.

Van Helsing gripped the friar in a friendly embrace.

"You watch yourself, you hear?" Carl said sternly, trying to act like he was not saddened by their parting, "you know you'll get in a load of trouble without me."

"Just look at it this way, Carl; you'll be making sure Mina doesn't get into trouble."

Carl thought for a minute. He seemed to like the thought of watching the beautiful vampire's back.

Mina and Jonathan looked at each other from each carriage, both trying to figure out if they wanted to say good-bye or not.

Good-byes are never good things, thought Mina, especially right before a dangerous journey. It was bad luck. What if… she swallowed… what if this was the last time she saw him? She didn't want to think about that. What would she do if she didn't get a chance to say what she really felt? But, as usual for her, the sliver of pride found its way back into her heart, turning it cold once again.

She went up to Jonathan, who looked up from acting like he was not looking at her.

"Well, I guess this is it, Harker," she said, in the coldest voice she could muster.

Jonathan nodded. By the look in her eyes, Jonathan couldn't even really remember what love looked like in those beautiful eyes.

"Yes, Mina, this is it." he agreed, swallowing.

"We both know we'll get out of this fine," said Mina unconvincingly, "and we'll be right back here, laughing about something or other."

"Maybe," said Jonathan quietly, "but maybe not." They both looked at each other for a moment. Then Jonathan stuck out a hand.

"Good luck, Mina," he said sincerely.

Without thinking, Mina took his hand, and she didn't want to let go.

"You're the one who is going to need all the luck on this one," she replied. They both let go.

"Good-bye, Jonathan."

"Alright, let's go!" yelled Van Helsing to Jonathan.

Jonathan took one more look at Mina, and then stepped away, going onto the other horse next to Van Helsing's.

Van Helsing clicked his tongue, and both his and Harker's horses sprang into action.

Jonathan turned, and saw the figures of Mina and Carl get smaller and smaller into the distance, until they totally disappeared from view.

"Good-bye, Mina," Jonathan said softly into the air, "May the Lord favor your quest… and make you arrive safely home."

Chapter 6

Van Helsing's eyes were exceptionally alert, going from left to right in cautiousness.

The two horses had traveled for less than four hours, but it felt much longer. Danger had yet to reveal itself. Not a ghoul, not a were-wolf, not a vampire… not even a wolf or coyote. But Van Helsing doubted that their good luck would last much longer.

"Our task has started easily enough," Van Helsing said out loud.

Van Helsing's fellow rider turned his head.

"You may thank the heavens for small mercies." Jonathan replied in a low voice. "The dangerous lands that are quickly approaching will make us look at this peaceful time as nothing more than a memory."

"That bad, huh?"

Van Helsing rode for a time in silence. The more time he spent with Harker, the more he found the man to be mysterious. Harker was an economical speaker, only talking when absolutely necessary. He was cautious with his words, and kept it that way. And Van Helsing found himself irritated to the fact that Harker adamantly refused to explore the dangers ahead beforehand. "It will only let fear have more time to creep into us. It will give the mission a much greater chance of failure," Harker had said.

Van Helsing suppressed anger towards his companion. It would be better to know the dangers straight-forward, instead of these constant implications of it.

But apparently Harker did not care what Van Helsing thought. Harker only cared what he thought. Van Helsing could tell that Harker thought of himself as always right. Above reproach.

Van Helsing feared that this attitude would result in their deaths.

Jonathan looked at Van Helsing carefully out of the corner of his eye. Jonathan had other thoughts in mind, though he would rather slit his own throat than admit his thoughts to the like of Van Helsing. Van Helsing was only a means to an end, and that was all. Jonathan tried to pay the other man no mind, not that he thought he needed to. The muscular, strong man could take care of himself in battle; that much Jonathan was certain of. Besides, he had never been the protective sort.

"So where're we headed, Harker?" asked Van Helsing briskly, interrupting Jonathan's thoughts.

Jonathan thought carefully. He remembered this road as well as his mother's house, for it had been imprinted on his mind. He remembered every turn, every dirt road, every forest passage…

"We're headed for Glenmont's Bane," replied Jonathan, not turning his head to Van Helsing. Jonathan thought for a moment, and the words seemed to flow through him.

"It has been said that, long ago, a man by the name of Glenmont passed through the peaceful village of Varicoz. Glenmont was an evil man, filled with pride and self-righteousness. He felt that Varicoz would be taken over by other tyrants that had appeared in the village, so, single-handedly, he became the leader of the village. With his pleasing voice and seductive reasoning, he gained taxes from the people, and made a small army of trained secret police that did whatever the ruler demanded.

"Soon, Glenmont showed evidence of his true colors as a cruel leader, and the townspeople found that he was worse than even their worst ruler of old. Soon, Glenmont began to execute the people that voiced opinions against him, charging them with treason.

"His secret police killed the 'renegades' in their sleep, stabbing them to death. No one dared speak any ill against their leader.

"The people prayed for relief and salvation from their malicious ruler and, after two years of Glenmont rule, an old hag appeared in the town. She found the state of the people under the wicked ruler, and decided to help him. With magical powers, the hag gave food and relief to the people. Glenmont, terrified of the power of the hag, ordered his soldiers to burn her at the stake.

"And so the soldiers, ignoring the people's cries and pleas for mercy, took the old hag to the far west of the city, where darkness always covered due to the large forest trees. They tied her to an old, wooden stake in the center of the town.

"Glenmont came to the spectacle with pompous arrogance, pleased with the thought of the witch's death. But as the fire licked the wood under the witch's feet, the old hag laughed. She lifted a bony finger at Glenmont, and with a terrible voice shrieked, 'as I die, so will you die; for you have been a bane to these people! From this moment on, this accursed place will be known for its ruler's final folly!'

"Then, with another cackle, she uttered a magic incantation. The hag screamed, her head fell to her chest, and she died. At that moment, lightning from the heavens struck the wooden stake, and killed all of Glenmont's evil soldiers. More and more lightning struck, but not one bolt hit the people of the village.

"Glenmont, seeing the danger, jumped onto his most expensive and fastest horse, and made a wild dash for the cover of the forest. But as he got to refuge, a mighty bolt struck, incinerating Glenmont and his stead steps away from safety.

"And, just as the old woman predicted, the west of the village and the path to the forest was then named Glenmont's Bane. That part of the village is now a barren, evil place, filled with magical properties that give evidence of the mighty ruler's downfall."

Jonathan then stopped speaking abruptly, and stared straight on of their path.

"An interesting tale," Van Helsing said, wondering why Harker had told him the story. "But it seems to be only that; a tale. Any proof for this folklore?"

Jonathan smiled grimly. "Ah, but there is. The witch protected the villagers and their homes from the curse. But she left a warning, burned in the ground by her lightning, telling them never to enter that part of the village again under pain of death.

"To keep the warning alive, the villagers created a plaque, made of the finest silver and gold, and put it in the center of their village. The plaque, in bold letters, told of the story of Glenmont and the witch, and the warning that she imparted to them. Though over fifteen generations and governments of the village have come and gone, the plaque has remained standing, and will surely stand for many years yet."

"Why pass through that way?" asked Van Helsing.

"The path through the forest is the only way through the forest. Without entering through the road, we would add weeks to our journey. Weeks that we don't have."

"Is there any real danger?" asked Van Helsing, his eyes catching movement in the trees.

In this dark environment, Jonathan's words seemed most ominous.

"I have passed through that place twice now. This will be the third. And it is something that I really don't care to repeat. The worst parts of your life fall before you, your worst fears and doubts of yourself are realized." He breathed out. "It gives you a different perspective of yourself, that much is certain. Those she sees as evil never come out of the mist again."

Then Jonathan brought up a hand, stifling whatever questions Van Helsing had.

The horses came to an abrupt halt. They stood to the edge of an elevated hill. Then Jonathan spoke three words.

"There it is."

Van Helsing looked ahead. Below, at the bottom of the elevation, was a large city, with well-built but mediocre buildings. But that was not what held Van Helsing's attention. What he saw was an unnatural mist that covered the entire west side of the village, covering a fifth of the village and a large portion of the front of the forests.

"A mysterious sight, is it not?" asked Jonathan, looking firmly at Van Helsing. "We must hurry."

Van Helsing nodded just as firmly.
"Then let's go," he said, and then he smiled, "we have a Creature to catch and an invisible serial killer to kill."

Then they made their way towards the village. Although as they began their descent, Van Helsing could have sworn he heard a woman laughing down below. A laugh that seemed to carry in the wind.

Chapter 7

"Well…" sniffed Carl, irritably, "that man was certainly not kind."

Carl and Mina had been in Griffin's hometown less than ten minutes, and already they were watched with distrust. Faces of the peasants turned towards them suspiciously.

"Get used to it, friar," muttered Mina, her eyes searching. "I must admit I'm surprised being a part of the Order for so long hasn't toughened you up some."

"How do you know it didn't? Anyway, we aren't going anywhere if we can't find out where Griffin's house is?"

"Watch and learn," replied Mina, and she turned and walked towards one of the villagers. The villager, a middle-aged farmer, looked up from his work from piling wood and stared in surprise as Mina came towards him. His eyes looked over her.

"Hello, sir," purred Mina, using her most charming tone, "I was wondering if you could help me and my cleric friend."

The farmer reddened slightly, and he coughed in his fist.

"W- What do you need, miss?" asked the farmer, trying to keep his eyes fully on her face but failing miserably.

"Do you know where the house of John Griffin used to stand?" she coaxed, coming closer and closer to the poor farmer.

The farmer looked nervously from the right to the left, apparently hoping that no one would see him. "Uh..." the farmer mumbled, pointing shakily towards the end of the road. "N-no, I'm sorry… I've got an errand to finish… please excuse me." He fumbled past Mina, mumbling nervously.

"Well, I see that you have a certain effect on men," commented Carl, coming next to Mina. Mina scowled at him.

"Excuse me," asked someone behind them. Mina and Carl turned around.

Standing behind them was a young man. He could be no older than his mid-twenties, but the way he held himself and the look in his eyes revealed the knowledge of someone much older. His blonde hair was combed neatly to the left side, leaving a small section of the bangs covering the tanned skin of the man's forehead.

He smiled and bowed from the waist politely towards Mina.

"Excuse me, are you talking to us?" asked Carl.

"Yes, I was," replied the man, walking towards them. "I overheard you're looking for the Griffin ruins. And by the way the look on the unfortunate farmer's face, I am assuming he didn't tell you what you need." He shrugged. "So I thought that I would down here and offer some help."

"Why do you say 'unfortunate'?" asked Mina, eying the youth with a roving eye.

He smiled devilishly. "Where do I start? Well, for starters, he should be more accommodating to beautiful damsels in distress… such as yourself." His eyes twinkled.

"A damsel in distress, am I?" Mina laughed. "And what makes you think of me as defenseless?"

The young man raised an eyebrow, taking the challenge. "I don't recall calling you defenseless, my lady," he replied. "All I saw was that you needed some assistance on the lay of the land. I simply offer my assistance." He bent down slightly, and kissed Mina's hand.

"And what is the name of such a noble youth?" asked Mina, her eyes shining with mischievous amusement.

"Thomas Stoker," the youth replied, standing back up again. He tilted his head at her. "I would highly appreciate you returning the favor. What about you?"

"My name?"

"Well, that was what I'm looking for. I'm not exactly looking for your uncle's."

"Wilhelmina Murray," replied Mina, grinning. She nodded towards Carl, who was standing next to her. "This is Brother Carl."

"A monk…" said Thomas, a grin appearing on his face. He lowered his voice, as if hiding a secret. "I do hope you haven't come for confessions. If you have, don't waste your time talking to all the villagers, just go to the busybody Tina Reese." His grin broadened. "She seems to think she knows everyone's sins in the village, including mine."

Mina raised an eyebrow. "You? Sins? I would have never guessed."

"Uh…" gapped Carl, confused. "So what you are saying is that you will help us?"

"Exactly," said Thomas. He glanced over Carl. "You catch on quick… for a clergyman."

Then Thomas turned to Mina before Carl could figure out if he had just been complemented or insulted.

"So will you have me?"

"We would love to have your assistance, Mr. Stoker," said Mina, acting completely cordial.

"Can you give us directions?" asked Carl.

Thomas smiled. "Better than that, my good clergyman," he replied, putting a strong hand on the friar's shoulders, "I am going to take you there myself. Consider me your…" his eyes lingered on Mina. "…personal guide of our beloved town."

Thomas pointed up the road. "It's not far from here. Come on."

As she walked with him, Mina found herself watching the young man carefully. He apparently was not unsure of himself. He knew his features were good-looking, and he clearly knew how to exploit the fact.

"Miss Murray, did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry," Mina said, smiling up to him. "What did you say?"

"I asked why would this place interest you. Care to tell me?"

"We're relatives," Mina said, concocting a lie as quickly as possible. "I've always been curious about this family legacy, so I wanted to come and see it for myself."

"Well, you'll find everything the same since then. The building has not been touched since it collapsed."

"Why?" asked Carl. "Why not build over it—?"

Thomas shook his head unquestionably. "The villagers say that the house fell because of some kind of magic the youngest often experimented with. The villagers don't want the curse put on them, so they leave the site completely untouched."

He put out the crook of his arm to Mina.

"May I have the honor of escorting you the rest of the way?"

Mina smiled charmingly. "It would be my pleasure."

She put her arm through the crook of his arm, and they walked. Mina wasn't sure what to make of her feelings. She could admit that it was such a nice change to feel attraction for someone and have those feelings returned. Even if this was for a brief period of time, Mina was going to make sure that she enjoyed every moment of it. It was beautiful to play the cat-and-mouse game once again. It had been too long in coming.

Together, the three of them walked down the road.

The Griffin mansion had been said to be the first house built when the small town had first been established. The first Griffin, a man by the name of Evan, had married one of the young women who had come from the East. Evan had been wealthy, and his family had remained rich from generation to generation all the way down to John Griffin's parents.

Evan and his wife soon found that with hard work and lasting friendships with the right people, they had become the town's leaders. They supervised the production of the town, as well as giving thoughtful, well-meaning advice to anyone that asked for it.

The Griffin family had a large legacy, much of which was known in the town lore. But now much of it was forgotten. Everyone that had known the family was now dead. Many of them had died over the course of nine months. It had been right after the Griffin mansion had burned to the ground, killing everyone in the family but John.

Now Mina, Carl, and Thomas looked at the decimated foundation of the house. Rotting, charred wood lay scattered in all directions of the site. It was just as Mina remembered. It had remained unchanged for seven years. There was nothing solid left where the house had once stood. The house had been utterly blown from the foundation. Even the Order could not find a similar case of such a peculiar occurrence happening. A peculiar explosion, indeed. An explosion involving either magic or advanced science… and Mina thought that the evidence proved the latter.

"The Griffin ruins," said Thomas. "How far the mighty fall. The Griffins had been the backbone of the village for generations. Now all that is truly left of them is the charred remains of their house. Such a sad legacy."

Carl looked in shock, thinking about how large the explosion that could have done this was. "Especially after all the good they had done. Even after all that, this village forgot them in eight years. Yes, a sad legacy, indeed."

"So what are we looking for exactly?" Carl asked to Mina, immediately turning his voice low enough so that Thomas did not hear them.

"I'm not sure, Carl," replied Mina just as softly, "but we have to find something. Anything that could help our friends."

"You two looking for souvenirs or something?" asked Thomas, looking at them curiously.

"You could say that," replied Mina.

His eyebrows raised, Carl gestured towards the wreck. "Be my guest," he said, "but please try and not to attract too many evil spirits. The village has enough of them already."

Carl and Mina walked into the center of the wreckage. It was just incredible how anything could do this to a house that had lasted over eight generations. Almost as if God had just blown the place right out of existence.

"Carl, you look there," said Mina to Carl, pointing to her left, "and I'll look over here."

Carl nodded, and started off.

As Mina was looking through the charred wooden blocks, she felt Thomas standing over her.

"What are you really looking for, Mina?"

Mina stood up. That was the first time he had said her first name. She rather liked how he said it. "I don't recall ever giving a specific reason," she said, still playing with him. ". But Thomas seemed not at all phased by that.

"Think about it, Mina. Two strangers come to this small town, saying they are relatives of the Griffins. They seem to have come for the simple reason of scouring through the remains of a blown-up house…" Thomas chuckled. "Oh, we get those kind people every Wednesday."

Mina thought for a moment. What was she to tell this man? Sure, there was the fact that she found him attractive, but was she will to risk telling—?

"You're not really a member of the Griffin family… are you, Mina?"
"Mina!"

She turned around abruptly, promptly forgetting Thomas's inquiry. She saw Carl standing over a patch of dirt.

"What?" she demanded, standing up and looking at Carl. But her anger quickly dissipated. Carl's facial expression said it all.

"I think I found something…"

Chapter 8

The village was a dismal sort of place. The houses were sturdily built (though maybe old fashioned) and the streets were well kept. However, Van Helsing could not rid himself of the sense of gloom. Gloom seemed to be the very foundation the village was built upon. Several people walked about, doing average daily activities. They all stopped whatever chores or errands they were doing and watched the two new arrivals with looks of suspicion and hostility.

At least Van Helsing thought he saw hostility. It was hard to see in these people. But there was something in their eyes he couldn't place.

"Lovely place," muttered Van Helsing wryly, keeping his hands loosely at his sides. This action was made on his part for two specific reasons. The first was to make no obvious movements that would be looked upon as aggressive in nature by the villagers. The second reason – and to Van Helsing, the most important reason – was to keep his hands as near his weapons as possible in such a potential hostile location as this. With his left hand, he slowly pulled his fedora farther down, keeping the alarming alertness in his eyes invisible.

"They won't harm us," said Jonathan, softly enough that only Van Helsing could hear his words. "As long as we keep to ourselves and don't bother them."

"In other words, don't talk to them and don't insult their culture," grumbled Van Helsing as a glum reply.

"Right."

Their trek continued through the town. The townsfolk did not speak or move the entire time the two men were there. A few times, Van Helsing was sure that the people were going to attack them with pitchforks and torches. But the attack didn't come.

They soon found themselves walking into the far west of the town. Surrounding the entrance to that part of the village was a large blanket of mist and fog. At the entrance to the fog was a golden plaque, with a silver board and words written on it. There was no way of knowing how old the plaque was.

The two men stood at the entrance to the accursed place. Van Helsing looked sideways at his companion; Jonathan seemed firm and resolved on their next decision.

"Are you sure you want to go in?" asked Jonathan, his face not moving, but his eyes turning to look at Van Helsing.

For Van Helsing, there was no turning back. "Let's get this over with."

They both walked into the mist, and disappeared from the sight of the villagers. After a few moments, and the two strangers did not reappear, the villagers returned to their way of life, quite sure of the fact that they would never see the two strangers again.

From the moment they walked into the mist, Van Helsing felt as if he had fallen out of time. It felt like he was walking in a time where there was no time. A place where time was meaningless.

The smoke and mist seemed to assail his senses, blinding him, giving him no sense of direction. He could not taste, hear, or smell anything. He seemed to almost be part of the mist, forever flowing but never leaving the accursed land. His mind seemed to leave his body, watching as his bodily shell continued forward – or backward, there was no way of knowing – into the mist. He felt some sort of power constrict over his heart, giving him a sense of dread. Hope seemed to disappear as if it had never existed.

"Don't give in," Van Helsing heard Harker mutter, and felt the man's hand lying on his shoulder. Harker's voice seemed to be an echo from a large distance away. Van Helsing was shocked to hear the man's voice. Why had Harker not fallen into the curses of the mist's spells? But then Van Helsing remembered that Harker had passed through this before. He could do it again. And if Harker could do it, so could he.

"The curse was meant to keep everyone but the most valiant away," remarked Jonathan.

"She didn't do a bad job, either," Van Helsing replied, grinding his teeth. "I still have no way of knowing if we are going forward or backward."

"We are on the right trail." Harker's voice held a glint of apprehension. "That much I know for certain."

After a dozen more steps, the feeling of horror was almost unbearable. Van Helsing felt the urge to bolt the opposite way – even if it was the wrong way – back to life, back to safety—

"Be cautious," said Jonathan, holding back Van Helsing from taking another step. Van Helsing realized that he could see again, although the fog was still dense all around them. It almost seemed as if the fog was much lighter in the area that they were now standing.

In front of Van Helsing was a large clearing, in the middle of which was a large pile of wood and ash. Buildings had been built side-by-side of this clearing, giving that section of the village a horseshoe-like appearance. At the end of the clearing was the forest, a path cut directly through the trees clearly visible. Right at the foot of the entrance into the forest was a large burn mark, signifying the exact place where the corrupt ruler had met his gruesome – yet well-deserved – fate.

Jonathan pointed to the pile of wood and ash that resided in the middle of the clearing. "There is where the words of the witch are burned," he said, walking closer.

Van Helsing could see by the houses that no one had lived in this section of the village for many years. Cobwebs were connected from house to house, and occasionally he heard the scurrying of rats.

"Look," whispered Jonathan, pointing to the edge of the forest. Van Helsing looked down, and saw what Harker was pointing to.

On the ground were dozens of skeletons. Van Helsing's eyes narrowed, his ears alert to pick up any danger. But there was nothing except the feeling in his gut. He knelt down towards one of the skeletons. This particular skeleton was fresher than the rest, though the rats and smaller creatures still in the mist had taken most of the flesh.

"Look at the face, Van Helsing," prompted Jonathan, kneeling down next to him. The face was one of pure terror and horror. Even the skeleton showed that. This man had died horribly.

"What do you think he died of?" asked Van Helsing, standing back up from the body.

"Only what he took in with him," replied Jonathan. Then he got up, before Van Helsing could ask what he meant.

"Let's get moving."

They walked carefully into the clearing. Van Helsing didn't trust the apparently harmless atmosphere. The skeletons had unnerved him, making him turn his head from side to side, making sure no enemy lurked in the shadows. There was a clear and present danger here, something that Van Helsing knew for certain. But where the danger lurked and with what intensions was something he had no way of guessing. He hated being put in a position such as this… where he fought an enemy that was not made of flesh and blood. It was made of his own inner fear and doubt.

As they got closer to the center of the clearing, the words engraved on the ground were getting clearer. The large, bold, black letters seemed to still smoke from the curse of long ago.

"From this day onwards, let this place be forever cursed…" Jonathan spoke in a soft voice, careful to speak without emotion. "Those who travel or venture into this accursed place, I give fair warning. If those of you with evil pasts and memories of guilt, know that in passing you may lose your sanity and your life. Leave this place, or face the penalty for your sins."

Both men looked up towards the entrance to the forest. Van Helsing could not see any danger, though he could feel it. His senses were screaming at him, telling him to be ready to defend himself. But how does one defend oneself from a curse and a dead witch?

"What lies ahead of us there?" asked Van Helsing, feeling more and more dread as time wore on. He wanted to make a decision soon, for he felt that soon, he would go mad.

"Madness for those that enter with an evil heart," replied Jonathan. He looked at Van Helsing. "Who are you, Van Helsing? Are you an evil man?" His eyes pierced Van Helsing right through his very soul. "Does evil fester in your soul, slowly clawing away any decency or morality that still exists inside of you?" But as Van Helsing began to open his mouth, Jonathan waved his hand to stop him. "Don't bother answering. I already know the answer. Don't forget I was exactly like you once."

Jonathan looked back up at the forest. His eyes seemed to soften, though the determination in them never wavered. "For if you are anything like I once was, this will be your ultimate test. It is time to face your inner demons, and choose whose side you are really on."

Van Helsing, absent-mindedly, grabbed the golden cross that hung from a silver chain around his neck. He remembered that, as a young man with no memory of his past, a cleric of the church took him in, nurtured him… saved him from himself. This golden cross was a gift from that cleric. He could still remember the words that Cardinal Jinette had spoken to him, as though it was only a passage of moments instead of years.

"I see great things for you, Van Helsing. Things that only the Lord can see. Remember your life here in this humble church, and never fall from your faith. That is where your true strength lies. Not from weapons you carry or the strength of your arm… your faith. Remember that, my son, and the Lord will always use you for His will."

That was what Van Helsing had been told, and that was what Van Helsing hung onto for strength and courage. And he would need both for this journey. Without answering Harker's questions, Van Helsing stepped forward towards the forest.

He knew that the possibility of death was high. For someone in his profession, death was riding shotgun everywhere he went. The trick was learning how to accept and learn from it. Learn how to beat death at its own game. Jonathan stepped slowly, following Van Helsing farther into the mist. Although Van Helsing never saw it, Jonathan Harker smiled.

Van Helsing counted his steps as he went forward. One… two… three… nothing had happened. Four… five… six… he was close now, so close he could feel the breeze from the trees. Seven… eight… nine… for a moment, Van Helsing thought he was safe.

Ten…

Eleven…

Twelve…

There was someone else in the mist. And it wasn't Harker… it was someone else. Gripping the pistol from his belt, he turned and pulled the gun out, ready to take down any foe in front of him.

A young woman, no older than twenty-five years of age, stood before him. Her emerald eyes stared at Van Helsing with infinite hatred. Black raven hair twirled in the wind. Van Helsing could not pull his eyes off of her. He knew her.

"Anna?" Van Helsing was entranced by the woman that he had loved two years ago. He could not – and would not, if he could – look away from her. "Anna Valerious?"

"You dare utter my name?" spat Anna, her eyes flashing dangerously, her hand resting firmly on the hilt of her family's sword. "You… my murderer? Of course, you have never put that label on yourself, did you?"

"No…"

Van Helsing stared at her, horrified. This was all wrong. This was not real. This couldn't be real. He had seen Anna! He remembered. He had seen her in her spiritual form with the rest of her family. She was at peace in death, something that she had never been in life. But here she stood, as real and solid as he, glaring at him with loathing in her eyes.

"I—" Van Helsing tried to speak, but no words seemed to be able to escape his mouth. He had not meant it. He was a were-wolf when it had happened, unable to know friend from foe. It had been an accident. He had been able to kill Dracula, but he had also killed the woman he loved… the woman that had been holding the serum to save his life.

The truth, although Van Helsing never wanted to look at it, was that Anna Valerious had died trying to protect him. And he had killed her for it.

"I didn't—"

"You didn't what, Van Helsing?" Anna laughed caustically, each word a worse wound than any bullet or knife could make. Van Helsing felt the sting of each syllable. "You killed me. You can't deny it, you can't rationalize it. It's simple." She glared at him. "And you know it. I can see in your eyes. You know that there must have been a way. Some way of stopping the wolf's instincts… You should have controlled the beast inside of you. But you didn't, and now I'm dead."

She then smiled at him, a smile filled with hatred and spite. "I hate you for what you did to me. But you will pay for it… oh, how you will pay…" she laughed, deep and terrible.

Then another being appeared next to her; one that was at first made of mist. Then the mist began to spin and swirl, taking the form of a familiar figure. Then the mist solidified, and Van Helsing saw in alarm that it was the Frankenstein monster. Seemingly in the flesh.

"It was your fault!" the monster rumbled, the left side of its face covered with a bland grey hood. The right side burned in righteous anger. The monster pointed a grey, bony finger at Van Helsing accusingly. "You could have been responsible for the deaths of millions and millions of people, and only through the help of others did you succeed. You are of the devil! You could have doomed us all! You stand on the shoulders of greater men for your success."

"You're wrong." Van Helsing said softly.

Anna laughed, her tone biting. "Who are you trying to convince; us… or yourself?" Then she and the monster laughed at him, pointing at him, mocking him.

"Spawn of Satan!"

"Murderer!"
"Abomination!"

"Killer!"

"No!" roared Van Helsing, jumping towards Anna and the monster. All he wanted for was for them to stop… for them to stop… stop laughing at him. But deep inside, he knew they were right. He could feel their words boring their way into his mind. But as he reached them, both Anna and the monster were gone. His hands touching nothing but smoke.

"Anna!"

"You were always a fool for a woman's affections, my old friend..."

That voice… Van Helsing quickly turned around. His heart constricted in his chest. In front of him was Count Dracula. The vampire's black, perfectly-tailored cloak flowed in a gust of wind. The same black, pony-tailed hair; the same sneering smile…

"But then, it was thinking like that that got you cursed in the first place, wasn't it?"

"Dracula…" Van Helsing brought up his pistol, and shot two silver bullets towards the count. But the bullets simply passed through the lord of vampires, leaving no imprint of any wound behind. Dracula simply looked down at where the bullets had passed through him and clicked his tongue sadly.

"Human weapons are not as lethal as you give them credit for," commented the count, looking at his cloak. "Your fascination with human behavior is what got you into this mess." Dracula sighed. "Oh, that's right. You don't remember anything, do you? You don't remember your glorious legacy…" He laughed disdainfully. "Nor why you fell from your high station in existence."

Dracula brought up his left hand. For the second time since meeting the vampire, Van Helsing saw a finger missing. The finger that once had a ring encircled upon it. The same ring that Van Helsing now wore. "Remember this?" Dracula hissed. "I started to tell you right before you chose to kill me. That ring was important to me. A gift from above…" he smirked. "Well, maybe a more appropriate phrase would be 'a gift from below', don't you think?"

"What do you want?" demanded Van Helsing quickly, while gripping the small golden cross in his right hand with all of his might and courage that still remained in him.
Dracula seemed to ignore Van Helsing's question. He stared at the cross on Van Helsing's neck.

"You don't actually think that's going to work, do you? I hope not. Such a disappointment from the right hand of God."

"I remember that line from our last encounter," countered Van Helsing. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"I never said I expected you to," replied Dracula. "I doubt you remember our battle. Interesting tactics for a member of the Elite, I remember. I underestimated you, Gabriel. This is why you were able to finally kill me. It never occurred to me that you might actually be as dark as any of the Fallen."

"You're lying," Van Helsing finally said. "I don't know why, but I know it. You're not making any sense."

"I see that He did well making sure the lost memory stayed lost," said Dracula. "Even after seeing me, a ghost from the past, you still don't have even a small inkling of your real purpose here."

Dracula looked at Van Helsing, not saying anything. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. As if he had decided on a different thing to say, he spoke again. "You and I are not so different from each other, my friend." Dracula's black eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light. "In fact, we might be more alike than you could possibly realize."

Dracula stepped closer to Van Helsing. Van Helsing took a step backwards. Something was wrong, he yelled at himself again and again. Dracula was dead. He died two years ago. This could not be him… A smirk appeared on the count's face at the sight of Van Helsing's quite apparent thoughts.

"I really would have told you of your past, you know. Together, we could have taken over the world; we could have had every living being groveling and begging at our feet. But fate decided to gave you another path, choosing you to be the benefactor of my demise."

Count Dracula laughed again, this time it seemed with true glee. "I still could, you know."

"You could what?"

"Reveal your past to you." He raised a finger. "Not all of it, mind you. I rather like the role He chose for you to play. I wouldn't want to spoil the game too soon."

"What game?"

Dracula smirked again. "Ah, but that would be telling. It is not yet time. Oh, but I am sure He will tell you the truth when He deems it time." The last sentence was said with mock sympathy.

Dracula began to pace slowly, his hands behind his back. "As you know from last time, you were the one to kill me several hundred years ago."

"But that's impossible!"

"Is it? What are limitations to the right hand of God?"

"I told you, I don't know what you mean by 'the right hand of God.' That's—"

"Impossible? You are beginning to repeat yourself, my friend. It's rather tedious." He turned his eyes from Van Helsing and looked upwards. "After you killed me, I was sent into Hell. Have you ever seen Hell?" He laughed. "But why even bother asking that? You and your ilk would never stoop so low as to see those of the Devil, would you? The unending pain and anguish must be hard for one as pure as you to watch." He narrowed his eyes and looked back at Van Helsing.

"It is a terrible place. Eternal flame... it is one of those places that makes you think of your life… and wonder why you wasted it. But there was something about me that, even to this day I don't know what, got the attention of the Devil. And he offered me a choice. Stay in Hell for all eternity… or get my life back on Earth."

The vampire smiled caustically. "But as I was yet to learn, the devil is not one of those people you invite for tea and crumpets. Just as such, never trust anything he says to you."

"Then why should I trust anything you tell me, count?" asked Van Helsing coldly.

"Because I am the only being on this earth who can tell you the whole story. Now please control yourself from interrupting." He thought for a moment, and then continued. "I was willing to do anything to escape Hell. Even sell my soul. His offer seemed simple enough. So I took it. But, as I should have realized, making any deal with the devil comes at a terrible price… which, in my case, was my humanity. I became one of the living dead. A vampire. Doomed to a life of feeding off of others."

Dracula stared into space. Then his eyes blinked. "But while in Hell I learned many things. I transcended through all mortal boundaries. And I learned what happened to my killer. You know, you were the first."

"The first what?"

"The first angel to kill a human in cold blood."

Van Helsing couldn't believe what he had just heard. Was Dracula actually serious in calling him an angel? It was just… it couldn't be.

"I see that you don't believe me." Dracula shrugged. "Not that it matters if you believe me or not. It doesn't change the facts. Not in your eyes and not in His eyes. But you were an exception. You were a leader, Gabriel. You were—"

"The right hand of God, yes, you said that already," said Van Helsing. "Now who's repeating themselves?"

"You have no idea the chain of events you started all those years ago. Doing such a heinous deed… and as God's most trusted servant, no less. You know, Lucifer once held your high standing in the eyes of God. And even he thought he could change the rules of the game. For that, he was banished from God's sight. Just as you were… just as you are."

Van Helsing's brain was doing flip-flops. Was there any truth in this deceiver's words? Was there any way of trying to find another way of finding the truth? Was Dracula truly the only one with the truth?

"But God chose another consequence for you, didn't he, Gabriel? He didn't choose for damnation in Hell for you. He had something else in mind, didn't he? You were willing to take a life. Angels aren't allowed to do that, last I heard. So you were punished. Have you figured out why?"

"To fix the mess I made."

"Exactly. I returned to the living as a vampire. And I killed people. Of course, He looked at the whole situation as your fault. So he sent you down here for… community service, as it were. You were to clean up your mess." Dracula stopped talking suddenly, and brought a hand to his lips in mock shock. "But wait a moment… you did clean up your mess, didn't you? You did kill me. So why are you still here?"

Dracula laughed. "There are so many secrets surrounding you, Gabriel. Things you cannot even imagine. You have no idea where your true purpose lies. And you may never find out. You may never know your true past.

"You are cursed, my friend. And this curse is not one that has an antidote. You will never know the life you lived, the life you lost, the true reasons and circumstances that brought you to this lowly state. The memories will forever prick you, as little flashes and glimpses in the night. And they will all disappear just as quickly as they came."

He walked closer, until he and Van Helsing were inches away from each other. "Just a little piece of advice, Gabriel. From friend to friend. I would not be too eager to find the truth if I were you. I have found that certain truths are ones best left unknown. And this truth is one of those."

"Think of it as a locked door. A locked door that haunts your mind whenever you sleep. You imagine all the treasures in the world being behind this door. You have a key in your hands that you have searched the world for. All you have to do is enter the key into the lock and open the door. But once you open the door, you see not treasures or wealth. You find a python. Certain truths will strangle you. Believe me, I know."

Dracula seemed to stare at Van Helsing for a long time. His smile widened. "You want to know something, Van Helsing? If we were not such bitter enemies, I might actually have had it in my heart to feel sorry for you."

Then, with a final derisive cackle, Dracula was gone, disappearing into the smoke he appeared from. Van Helsing couldn't think. Was all of this for real? Was what he had just seen Dracula's true ghost, coming back from the grave to stab one last blade of self-doubt into his dreaded enemy's soul?

Could any of it have been true? Was he really Gabriel, the leader of angels? The angel that stepped into the position that Lucifer once held? Or was it all simply one of Dracula's mind games? There was no real way of knowing.

Van Helsing looked around. He could see nothing.

Then he could see everything.

Hundreds and hundreds of faces appeared all around him, from every direction. He felt he was suffocating by the amount of faces. They screamed at him, laughed at him, mocked him… all the faces. His pistol fell from his nerveless fingers.

Mr. Hyde… Dorian Gray… Anna… Prince Valerious… hundreds of others… all of them murdered by his hand. He knew each and every face, even if he did not know their names.

All of them murdered for the good of the world, for the honor of the Knights of the Holy Order… Van Helsing groaned desolately, and fell to his knees in agony. He could hear all of their voices. All of them intermingled, but he could still hear each one of them.

"See how the mighty fall!"

"He was our killer!"

"He deserves to burn in Hell!"

"Die, oh great warrior; die like the rest of us!"

"Come to us…"

"Die like us…"

"What have you to lose…?"

"You have no one…"

"You are alone…"

"You are nothing…"
"Die…"

Van Helsing put his face in his hands. He was nothing. He deserved the same fate of those he killed. In reality, was he any better than they were? Did he not kill just like them? What was the difference? Did he feel justified that the orders were given by the Order? Were the souls of the Order any better than these were?

"Be like us…"

"There is no hope…"

"Join us…"

"Come to us…"

"Die like us…"

Van Helsing looked down at his knees. His mind was coming to the breaking point of any human endurance. He was no better than those he killed. No, he was worse. He had killed more than any of those killed ever did. Did he have any more reason to live than they did? His thoughts began to blur, his hands sweat. What would happen to Carl…?

"Fall into our embrace…"

"We will have you…"

"You cannot escape your past…"

"Feel the peace of death…"

"Die with us…"

He felt the little left of his sanity start to slip from him. All he could think about was all of the voices. Why couldn't they stop? They hurt him. He grabbed the sides of his head in anguish. What if, by living, he killed someone else? What if he led to the death of someone he cared for, like Anna? What about Carl? Did he want to be the reason the innocent friar met his untimely death? It seemed at that moment that everyone who had meant anything to him was dead or going to die because of him.

He felt himself dying… he felt his grip on reality leaving… Better to die now, he thought bitterly, than have my friends die because of me. His eyes closed…

Then a bright light assailed his senses, one that seemed to come from all directions. The voices were gone immediately, as quickly as a rabbit at the sight of a fox. The light was coming from behind Van Helsing. But – try as he might – Van Helsing could not turn his body around. He was frozen.

Then a deep, musical voice spoke to him, and it seemed to him as if he was a man dying with thirst being given water for the first time. It was the voice of life and death, hate and love, sorrow and joy, peace and war… it was the voice of all things. But for some reason… Van Helsing thought that he had heard this voice before… somewhere a long time ago…

"Your task is not yet complete. You will not fall as Dracula did to the false allure of power. Nor will you fall by your own hand," spoke the Voice, gentle and loving. "I have given you the strength to pass thus far; I will not relinquish this hold at the first stroke of the hammer of doubt or hate. My shield over you shall not break, though you know not who I am."

"Who are you?" whispered Van Helsing, wishing with all his might that he could turn and see the face of one so full of caring and strength. But still the barrier held. "Are you… Him?"

"I have many names. Thousands of names. But it is not yet time for My appearance to you, my child," spoke the Voice. "But rest assured, through your trials, I will be there. I will not abandon you."

"But what of what Dracula said? Did he speak the truth—?"

"Dracula is a seducer. But as all of his kind, their lies are based in truth to make them more convincing. Dracula is a master at deception. Do not fall for his lies, but also do not be blind to the truth."

"But am I really Gabriel? And if I am and I was sent to kill Dracula, why am I still here?"

"There was something that Dracula said that you must take to heart. But you must look at the words in a different light. My light. When he says 'some truths should be best left unknown,' I say 'some truths should not be sought until the right time.' It is not the right time, Van Helsing."

"But how will I know when it is the right time?"

"Be patient. You will know. You have work to finish. Farewell…"

Then the Voice was gone. In its place was a blood-curdling scream, one that Van Helsing felt could rip the flesh off his body. A scream of rage and anger.

It was the scream of a witch that was thwarted her prey.

Then the scream, too, was gone… and Van Helsing found himself kneeling on the ground. Almost a praying position. He looked down, and found that he had fallen on the burn mark at the edge of the forest. He had survived the curse. He was safe.

Then he felt a hand fall on his shoulder. He could tell that it was Harker.

"Get up, Van Helsing," said Jonathan, his voice giving no emotion whatsoever, "We must leave. We will run out of time if we linger for even a moment."

Van Helsing nodded, and stood up slowly. He saw that his pistol was still on the ground. He bent down and picked it up. He felt strength return to his limbs again. He put the pistol back into his coat. His coat was covered in dirt and stains.

"Come on," said Jonathan, and gave Van Helsing a small smile.

As they walked through the forest, Van Helsing looked around. As they got farther and father away, the mist and fog seemed to lessen in distinctiveness. After a while of traveling, Van Helsing found that there was no longer any residue left of the accursed mist. For a long while, neither man spoke, each buried deep into their own thoughts.

"Not something easily forgotten, is it?"

Van Helsing turned to Jonathan.

"No… it's not," replied Van Helsing. He had thought about his experience the entire time they had walked. Though a part of it now made sense now that Van Helsing could think clearly, there was still a large part that did not.

He did realize that Anna and Frankenstein and all the rest of the spirits had been nothing more than illusions created by the curse of the witch to drive him to insanity. It was quite an ingenious way of protection, thought Van Helsing. For those that had nothing to fear, had done nothing wrong, they could pass throughout the cursed place without anything happening to them. Only those with ghosts from their past had anything to fear.

If it had not been for the Voice, Van Helsing would now be dead… or worse, insane.

But then what about the Voice? And Dracula? Dracula had said things that Van Helsing couldn't have even guessed. The illusion of Dracula did not come from his mind. It had come from an outside source. No, it couldn't have been the real Dracula. Van Helsing had seen the body disintegrate. The body that had been very much dead. No, that was not Dracula. But then what was it? Could it have been the Devil? Possible. But, again, there was no way to know for sure. Van Helsing mentally noted to put the occurrence in his long list of things he had no earthly way of finding out.

And the Voice? Who was it that had saved him from all his doubts and fears from himself? Deep inside, Van Helsing knew who it was. Maybe, in the future, he would finally be able to meet the Voice…

Then a thought came to him.

"Harker…" said Van Helsing. "I know what I experienced from the curse… but what about you? What evils did you see from your past?"

Jonathan smiled, thought Van Helsing saw no warmth in it. "I ask for the same luxury I have given you. No questions asked." Jonathan turned and looked back from where they had walked. It was still possible to see a faint glimmer of the mist still. "The curse does strange things. It is never quite the same in what it reveals. Sometimes it shows the person things that, in their heart, they know but can't bring themselves to see. Things they would rather die than confront. Every man has something in their lives like this. And these are the things that must be kept private. Known only to themselves." He turned back. "Come on. Let's get going."

"My pain is my burden alone…" He whispered to himself, so softly that Van Helsing didn't hear him.

Chapter 9

"What is it?"

Carl looked at the mount of dirt in front of him, and scratched his hair. "I'm not sure," he said in confusion. "But it seems to be some sort of door."

Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "It could just be one of the room doors blown up."

Carl shook his head. "No… I don't think that's it at all. This one looks connected to something…"
"Let me see," said Mina, kneeling down towards where Carl was. Carl had been right, Mina thought. It was a door. It seemed to be some sort of cellar door.

"Help me lift this," said Mina, as she grabbed the door handle while Carl swept the dirt and broken wood off of the door. Thomas came next to them.

"Ready? Pull!"

Together, all three of them pulled, and the door gave way, opening with a crash.

"Look…" said Carl, pointing down. Behind the door was a staircase.

Thomas looked at Mina with respect. "Did you know about this?"

"No," replied Mina, "I'm just as surprised as you are."

Thomas stared hard at her, and Mina wondered if he might have seen through her lie. Then his eyes blinked. "If you say so."
They looked down the staircase for a moment. Then Thomas stood up.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going down first, or should I?"

Mina smiled. "Let's go, Carl," she said, and she went down the staircase, followed by Thomas and Carl.

The environment was dank, reeking of mildewed dirt and humid air. Mina looked to the corner of the wall. There was an unlit torch, with cobwebs covering it. She picked it up off its platform.

"Here," said Thomas, giving her a match.

"Thanks," she replied.

She lit the torch, and they started their descent down the stairs.

They walked slowly down each step, which was immediately followed by the creak of floorboards.

"What a charming place," muttered Carl, looking nervously at the large spiders crawling over the brick walls.

After about two dozen steps, they came to the end of the stairway.

"Oh my…" breathed Mina, looking around in awe.

The room was a large laboratory. There were three tables, each at the three sides of the room. The wooden tables were large, each with a chair next to it. Chemistry sets and strange vials filled the tables, as well as countless pieces of paper that seemed to fill as much room as the chemistry sets.

"Well…" said Carl, looking at each table in turn. "Does this count as something?"

Mina looked up and saw that there was a platform hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. She put the torch into the platform, and it fit perfectly.

"So what are we looking for exactly?" asked Thomas, watching as Carl and Mina went from table to table, looking for something.

All the papers had theorems and equations that even Mina didn't know what they meant. A few of the papers showed small diagrams, but nothing enough to tell her what she needed.

Mina stopped her search for a moment to look at Thomas. "I'm sorry, Thomas," she said, "but that is not something I can tell you."

"Well, you'll have to tell me something," Thomas countered, waving his hand at the laboratory, "because if you don't, I am going to assume that this is illegal and report it."

"You wouldn't dare," hissed Mina, walking menacingly towards Thomas. But the young man stood his ground, staring her right in the face.

"Yes, I would dare," Thomas replied.

Mina glared at him. "Fine," she finally said.
"Mina, no!" uttered Carl, shaking his head at her.

"We'll only tell him enough to get him to help us," she said, not looking at Carl. "Alright… we are here to find a way to stop an evil serial killer. The only way to stop him is to find something in this room that we can use against him."

Thomas looked at her for a moment. "Do I have your word that you are telling the truth?"

"You have my word."

Thomas nodded appreciatively. "Alright, that's good enough for me."

He walked up to the other table. "Give me some clue on what you want."

"That's just it," replied Mina angrily, "I have no idea exactly what we are looking for!"

"Well, if I see anything that looks important, I'll tell you." And they searched.

Carl wasn't sure what he was looking for. So far he had found the equation of probability, something that he couldn't make heads or tails about. Then he found a piece of paper with a diagram on it. It had the figure of a man on it, although the features of the man were not shown. It was just the outline. On the top of the paper was the phrase: mist and fog; counter effects

I wonder what that means, thought Carl. Then his eyes caught something else. In so doing, he forgot about the paper in his hands, which he simply put into his pocket absent-mindedly…

"I think I found something!" said Carl from the right table. Thomas and Mina came towards the friar.

"What is it?" asked Thomas.
In Carl's hands, he held a small stack of papers. There were more than fifteen pages. He handed them to Mina.

Mina looked at them, and saw on the front were the words that made her hands shake.

Invisibility serum and antidote

"You were right, Carl," Mina said, smiling. "We found what we need."

She looked down the list. It had all the ingredients and theorems that they would need to create the serum, as well as make the antidote. This could be their salvation…

"We need to contact the Order," she said, holding the papers securely in her hands.

"Right," said Carl, taking the torch from the platform above. Then he looked at the rest of the laboratory. "But what about the rest of this stuff, do we just leave it?"

"We'll shut the door, and no one will know of this place," Mina replied. "It is better that way, raising no unwanted questions."

"Except mine," said Thomas.

Now Carl and Mina looked at him.

"What about me?"

Mina thought for a moment. "You'll come with us," she finally said.
"Now that is a very bad idea," started Carl, but Mina cut him off.
"We don't have a choice, Carl," she said coldly, "he's already seen too much. We have to contact the Order about what to do next."

"What is this order you keep talking about?" asked Thomas, looking from Mina to Carl. "Are you part of the law or something?"

"Yes and no," replied Mina. "We are going to take you with us, at least until we get a confirmation from our superiors."

Thomas shrugged. "Sounds fine to me," he said, and then smiled roguishly. "Though really, I can't think of someone prettier I'd rather be kidnapped by."