The man laughed briefly before walking to stand in front of him. Chandler didn't look up just yet. But focused on his hands, he could see the man's boots. Shiny and new. Expensive probably. Not the kind of shoes you expect to see on anyone in a dirty back alley.

"I am not looking for trouble, Mr Chandler. But I do recognize a good story when I see one. And I want yours. Now….considering the situation you're now in, I can only assume you could use some money to find yourself a new place to stay. And clean bandages. I am willing to pay you...in exchange for that tale of yours."

The man's voice was loud and clear. He didn't sound drunk and he didn't seem to joke. With a tired sigh, Ethan finally looked up at the man's face. He was surprisingly young and tall. And he was smiling.

Ethan wasn't sure to like that smile. Or the reason behind it.

He tilted his head and shrugged with one shoulder.

"What story?", he asked before nodding once toward the back door of the warehouse. "All there was to see happened in here. You were inside, I saw you."

He focused his gaze back on his hands and tried to move each finger cautiously. A few of them caused a flash of pure, intense pain that made his heart start to beat inside his head.

When the man spoke again, his muffled voice didn't reach Ethan's mind directly. He probably noticed it by the grimace on Ethan's face and he crouched in front of the fighter to catch his eyes and repeat what he had said.

"Your story, Mr Chandler. I want you to tell me what brought you here. And how you turned into what you are now. Whatever your price is, I believe it will be worth it."

Ethan grunted and rolled his head back to press it against the cold wall behind him. He waited until the dark spots dancing in front of his eyes started to fade enough for him to look back into the tall man's eyes.

"How do you know my name to start with? And why are you so interested in knowing how I became such a mess, huh? Looking for a good story to tell during mondane and boring dinners?", he growled.

The pain had slaughtered the remains of his patience. All he wanted was to crawl somewhere and sleep it off. Tomorrow was another day. Another day to worry about the one after that and the one after after that. Each day its burden. Tonight all he wanted was to forget.

He didn't feel like talking. At all.

The man reached out to place his hand on Ethan's wrist. Ethan narrowed his eyes but didn't move. There was something too strange about that man for him to simply push him away. And the rage inside him, the one crawling constantly under his skin, had been fed for the day with the blood of the Irish and the other man. It was sleeping somewhere deep within the fighter, leaving his body too exhausted to fight again.

"I know many things. But I am not interested into how you started to fight for a few dollars in warehouses with men as desperate as sinking ships. I want to know how you, a brave and obedient soldier, a very skilled shooter...turned into a wolf. /This/ is the story I'm ready to pay for.", the man said calmly.

Ethan tensed and clenched his jaw. He looked around to check if they were alone. Was it a sick joke from the bounty hunters who were chasing after him?

His eyes fell on the man again. Clearly, he belonged to the most wealthy class. He was probably not the type to fret with the kind of men who were earning their livings by carryng balls and chains to catch fugitives.

"I don't know what you are talking about", he retorted. "You're probably mistaking me with someone else. I have that kind of face...the kind you think you saw before. Now...Sir...I advise you to go home before someone notices you and decides to rob you. Pretty boots. You'd be surprised what the people around here would be able to do to get some like these.", he warned. He forced himself to look down at his fists again, hoping this conversation was over. Nausea was starting to overwhelm him and he knew too damn well it wasn't caused by just pain.

The man pulled away and shook his head.

"I don't fear thieves, Mr Chandler. But I agree with you on the going home part. Join me. I can offer you a comfortable bed and a decent dinner for tonight. Then, once you will feel rested, maybe we can talk a little more.".

He stood up and took one step back.

"Come on, Mr Chandler. We both know you would be a fool to refuse."

Ethan snickered. "I wouldn't have lived that long if I was stupid enough to follow strangers anywhere. Do I look like a stray dog you can simply pick up and take home….Sir?" he spitted out the last word, looking up at the man through the few strands of dirty hair covering half of his face.

The man remained silent before starting to laugh, a whole-hearted laugh, that startled the fighter.

"Ah, Mister Chandler….you and I will get along just fine, I believe. No, no, I don't see you as a stray dog. I know that wolves are lonely creatures. But even them get hungry and tired, don't they? But I apologize. Where are my manners indeed? My name is Abe Van Helsing. I'm just a professor fascinated by….let us call it 'the unusual'. And you, Sir, are unusual. Now please….do not take offense of my insistance. All I want is the story. Whatever you will tell me….will stay between us. Let's make a deal. You tell me yours, I tell you mine. After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks. I mean you no harm...not to mention that I would be rather stupid to provoke a fight with you."

The man opened his arms and smiled. "I have no doubt you could overpower me pretty easily if you felt threatened. Am I right?"

Ethan listened to the man carefully before pushing himself onto his feet, using the wall behind him to stand up and support himself.

"I've learned that men who pretended to be weak are the ones you must be the most wary of. If you're just a professor then I'm a freaking lady.", Ethan muttered.

He was tired, he was cold and he was in pain. Indeed he would be stupid to refuse such a tempting offer. But tempting offers were often the first step to Hell.

Not like he wasn't there already.

He sighed deeply before nodding.

"Fine. I'll go with you. Doesn't mean I"ll say anything because I still don't know what you're talking about", he huffed.

"Of course, of course", Van Helsing said. Even if the smile on his face seemed to tell a whole different story.

He guided the fighter out of the alley and pointed at the corner of the street.

"I happen to live not far from here. That's how I knew there was a wolf in town. The dogs in the neighborhood have been whining for weeks and feeling utterly nervous. Do you always have this effect on them?", he asked excitedly.

Ethan glanced at the man before clearing his throat.

Damn.

Could he really know?

And...did he meet others like him?

This was a question that had tortured Chandler's mind for years. Whether or not there were others like him living among the people, pretending to be normal...pretending to not be...what he was.

"Why would I have any effect on animals?", he grumbled. "Do I look like a fairytale to you? Are you that kind of professor, maybe...the looney kind?

Provocation was his main weapon when he felt uncomfortable. So far, no one knew about him. How the Hell could that man have figured it out without Ethan noticing he was even watched to start with?

As they were walking side by side, Van Helsing started to explain.

"Mister Chandler….I've been through many things. Most of them...You wouldn't believe. I saw what lies underneath the layers of our reality. I hunted and met the evil. I lost dear ones because of it. I could have turned insane. But instead, I've become fascinated by all the secrets of the world around us. You cannot unsee what you saw nor unlearn what you've been taught. Trust me, I'd rather be a lunatic sometimes. But I know that most of the monsters in the tales we tell our children are real. I met one. Now don't get me wrong. I am not calling you a monster, Mr Chandler. I know how these looked liked. I've seen them from way too close."

His voice died in his throat and Chandler looked curiously at him.

Then he rolled his eyes.

Wonderful. Now he wanted to hear Van Helsing's story. God, he was such a pushover sometimes.

Van Helsing stayed silent until they reached a large and elegant mansion.

"This is where I live for now. It is not mine. It used to belong to Mrs Archer's family. After she passed away...I couldn't resolve myself to leave it behind. And since no one requested me to do so...My nostalgia kept me here for far too long. But who knows? Maybe it is Fate that knew our paths would cross, Mr Chandler."

He unlocked the door and opened it.

"Come on in and feel yourself at home. I will make us some dinner.". He passed Ethan and disappeared in a hallway leaving Chandler alone and mesmerized.

What a singular man, this Van Helsing.

Finding a wounded wolf outside, bringing him home….then turning his back to him like he was trusting the beast enough to not fear being maimed under his roof.

Chandler frowned then met his own eyes into a large mirror on the wall. He didn't recognize himself at first. It had been so long since he had acted civilized.

He shook himself up and turned around to close the door behind him. Then, welcomed by just wood cracks and ghostly whispers, he entered what looked like a dining room. Not knowing what to do with himself, not wanting to sit anywhere as he became rather conscious of how filthy his clothes and himself were, he walked around the table slowly, waiting for his host to reappear.

Then his eyes fell on something that made him smile. Something he had sorely missed.

Countless books pressed together on various shelves on the wall.

Happy to find something to keep him busy, he walked toward them and saluted each one with a gentle tap of his index upon their cover.

The wolf was starting to relax. People who loved books couldn't be evil at heart.

It was his only comfort. He loved them. He couldn't be just a beast.

He was an educated one.