Van Helsing was sitting on a roughly hewn stool in a seedy, ramshackle Romanian bar. It was snowing very hard, and it looked as these would be his quarters for the night. He had already secured himself a room. He had been to this part of Romania before, and the owners of the tavern had not forgotten the favor he had done for them all those years ago. So, he would sleep in his room tonight with all the money he had arrived here with. Van Helsing didn't dare think of himself as a well-liked person, more of an unlikely, (and most of the time unwanted) hero.
The man across from him was speaking in hushed, pleading tones. He was very old and very, very scared. His gnarled fingers slid a few currency notes across the worn, unsteady table. "Please take them." He begged in Romanian, his voice raising in Helsing merely shook his head. "I cannot accept your money. Please allow me to take care of this pest free of charge my dear Sir." Normally, Van Helsing would have taken pay were it offered, but he had felt a pang of sympathy in his heart for this old man. He was interested in hearing what had made him so scared, and thought it would be unfair to take money from him, as it seemed the fellow didn't have much in his pockets to begin with.
The old man then slid a time worn, much creased sepia photograph of a young woman across the table. "My granddaughter, sir." He continued, his hands shaking. He took deep swig of his beer in an attempt to calm his nervous spirits. "Her parents are both dead. And now, he has her." The man Helsing picked up the photograph with a gloved hand. "She is very beautiful. I can see why she is of interest to him." He remarked, and pocketed the photograph for future reference.
"You see why I worry. She has gone to live with her other wealthy grandmother, on her father's side. I have not seen her in four years. She is twenty-two now. It was in her parents' will that she be sent to live with her. Lady Katherine is very controlling, and refuses to let Aurelia see anyone from her mother's side of the family. She was furious when she realized that Damon had married beneath him. Her arrogant, blue blood temperament is keeping me from seeing the only family I have. My wife passed away some years ago, and now I live alone.
I do however, take comfort in the fact that my Aurelia is living a better life with the her than I could ever give her. She has money, a title, a secure place in society. I thank the Lord each night that her grandmother had taken a liking to her and not thrown her out onto the streets.
Unforunately, all those aspects of her life that are blessings can also be considered curses. That is what drew him to her. That, and she is not the brightest of young women. Her grandmother seems to have impressed upon her that her value lies in her beauty, and does not even attempt to foster her intelligence. In her letters, she talks of how lovely her life is, how much she misses me and wishes me to visit. She never speaks anything of books, or intelligence. The deepest thing she has written is a contemplation of which gown she wishes to buy next. This is how I know all that I am sharing with you, Sir."
Now, she is staying at his castle...for his masquerade. I have heard talk, Van Helsing, and none of it is anything I wish to hear. It only makes me worry more and more about her safety. Promise that you will put a stop to this mad game."
Van Helsing took a deep breath and solemnly nodded. "You have my word that your granddaughter will be returned to you safely. The man of which you is a creature of the night, and vanquishing him will not be easy. But, it is a challenge I am all too happy to accept."
For once, the man looked absolutely at peace. His features relaxed and his hands stopped shaking. He sighed. "Forgive me, I have gotten myself so worked up that I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Richard Dimir." He extended his hand, and Van Helsing shook it. Even this small gesture of camaraderie was a breath of fresh air for him.
Van Helsing coughed and looked at the large coo-coo clock positioned on the wall of the tavern. "I should be going now." Richard said. "Thank you again, for your help, Gabriel. If you will not accept money, I will find some other way to repay you." Van Helsing shook his head. 'I assure you Richard, you owe me nothing. I'm merely doing my job." Richard shrugged balefully. "If you insist, Gabriel." The two men shook hands, and Richard picked up his cloak and left the tavern.
Van Helsing still remained at the table, and pulled out Aurelia's photograph. He held it up in the dying candlelight, watching it flicker on her noble, blue-blood features. He could tell that she was Richard's granddaughter, although she only subtly looked like him. He tried to imagine what this girl could possibly be doing right now. Had Dracula gotten to her? Was it too late?
His thoughts were interrupted by the clinking of a beer mug on the wooden table. "Courtesy of the gentleman over there." The barmaid said cheerily, nodding towards a cloaked figure sitting a few tables over, near the fire. Van Helsing tried to raise his glass in thanks to the mysterious patron, but only ended up balefully setting it down when he realized that the stranger was looking not at him, but at the tavern door. It was as if the stranger was looking at something Van Helsing could not see.
Without a word, the stranger got up from the table. They brushed past him without a word. Although, he could have sworn he saw the swoosh of a skirt from under the thick, heavy cloak pulled about their personage. Something clattered to the ground, although Van Helsing did not hear it as the door closing blocked this noise out completely. He reached down and picked up the article the woman had dropped. It was a silver hairpin with a metal rose engraved onto it. Two intials became visible once he held the trinket up to the candlelight. Squinting he picked out the initials A..D. embossed in a fancy scroll on the pin. Was this a clue, or some sort of awkward coincedence? Van Helsing pondered this as he ascended the stairs of the tavern with the hairpin tucked away in his pocket.
//
Moira slept fitfully her first evening in the castle. She tossed, she turned, and although she lay on silken pillows and damask sheets, she just could not get felt like rocks were digging into her back, and hot coals were stinging her face. Eventually, she gave up trying to go to sleep altogether. Moira quietly drew back the covers and got out of bed. Her silk slippers muffled any noise her footsteps could have possibly made as she exited the room and walked down the hallway. She grabbed a lit candalabra from one of the walls and made her way through the darkness.
A floorboard creaked behind her. She froze, like a statue. A voice cut through the silence. "Who's there?" It was meek and feminine, akin to her own. Moira slowly turned around and came face to face with a girl. She was thin and pretty with big innocent eyes and a cloak draped about her shoulders. Snowflakes still lay embedded in her auburn hair, like tiny sparkling stars. It was cold in the castle halls that these remnants of the outdoors had no melted yet. "What are you doing out so late?" Moira asked, momentarily forgetting her place.
"I could ask the same of you. In your nightclothes no less." The girl's tone was playful. "Oh..." Moira said sheepishly, looking down at her blue silken nightgown. "I couldn't sleep you see. I have terrible insomnia when I sleep someplace new. At least for the first night." Moira coughed. "I'm sorry if I sounded rude in my inquiry. You're under no obligation to tell me where you were. It wasn't even my place to ask." She apologized. The girl shook her head. "You are forgiven. In fact, I'm sort of glad you asked. Now I have someone to share my story with. And, when I am done, you are by all means, entitled to share yours. If you want to, that is. As a thanks for lending me your ear, I'd like to invite you to come to my room Miss er...." She trailed off. "Moira." Moira finished. "Moira DeCicco. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss..."
"Aurelia Dimir." The girl finished, adding a small curtsy. She had a distinctive accent that Moira knew, after hearing her speak for a bit was Romanian. She must have thought Moira very strange, with her dignified accent and habits of sneaking around at night. "Pleased to meet you Aurelia." Moira said, as she fell into step beside her soon to be hostess. "Forgive me, but, your accent. Am I right to place is as Romanian?" She asked. Aurelia nodded, her curls casting shadows on her neck as they bobbed in the candlelight. "Yes, you are quite right. I am Romanian, born and bred here. Up until the deaths of my parents a few years ago, I lived with them in our quaint little village.. They were carried off by a plague that took nearly half of our village. I was then sent to live with my grandmother. She introduced me to a life of class, societal worth, and wealth. All of the sudden I was thrust into the spotlight. I had fancy gowns, suitors, and a circle of dignified friends who would likely have turned up their nose at the sight of me before my transformation...."
Moira listened intently to Aurelia's story, pausing at the right moments and nodding when necessary. "I recieved my inviation to this masque a few weeks ago. And, now here I am." Aurelia had perfectly timed her story so that she was finished when they reached the entrance to her room. "Your past is very interesting." Moira remarked, once they had settled down inside. "You've asked if I'd like to recount my story now. And I think it's only fair." So she began, unspooling a seamless and elaborate lie, smoothing over everything awful, leaving out the voices, the crying, the unexpalined injuries. All reflected a good childhood, except for her parents' death. "We are both orphans." Aurelia remarked, once Moira had finished. "I suppose we must stick together then." Moira mused. "I suppose we could be considered friends now...although we haven't exactly know each other that long." Aurelia said, giggling softly as to not wake anyone else in the castle up."Yes." Moira said. "I think we shall, in time, get become very good friends." She nodded. "Oh Aurelia. I would like to thank you for the tea and company, but I really must make my way back to my own room now." Aurelia stood. "Wait, before you go. May I tell you something, Moira?"
Moira paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Yes, anything." She said, turning to look at Aurelia. "The reason that I was out so late, is that I was at a tavern. I was going to enlist the help of a famed vampire hunter to help me, but I could not bring myself to speak with him. You see, my grandfather was there. Talking to him....about me. How he feared for my safety. How he too realized the Count is a dangerous man....who may not even be human. I believe that the Count is....a vampire, Moira." Aurelia turned away from her and sighed. "Now I fear that you won't want to be friends anymore after I've told you this. You think I'm crazy, don't you?" She asked, turning back around.
Moira shook her head. "I don't think you're crazy, perhaps maybe a bit misguided. You don't really think it is possible such creatures exist, do you?" She asked cynically, pressed a handkerchief to her mouth to muffle a ragged cough. "Are you alright?" Aurelia asked. Moira nodded. "Well...yes, I do believe that vampires exist, Moira. I've seen my own people attacked by them. When I was very young, my village was attacked. Many people were snatched up by the vampires...in bat form...drained of blood right there on the spot, and then thrown down again as if they were mere petty playthings than people." Aurelia's voice shook as she recounted the horrible event.
Moira's brow furrowed. "That's horrible. To see something like that when you were so young." Aurelia nodded. "It's stayed with me the rest of my life. A vampire hunter was able to take care of them, and send them back to where they came from. Which is why I sought help from the man in the tavern. I fear this masquerade is just another disguise for one of the Count's nefarious plans." Aurelia said worriedly. Moira nodded. "Yes, well. I'll discuss this with you in the morning. Thank you again." Then, she exited the room.
Moira had walked a few steps before she realized she was in total darkness and had forgotten the candelabra in Aurelia's room. She was just about to back for it, when she heard a familiar, slimy voice sound from behind her. "Is Mistress lost? It isn't good for a lady to be wandering the halls at night. It just isn't proper." Moira slowly turned around and discovered the voice belonged to Igor, we was lumbering down the hallway slowly, a replacement candelabra in his hand. "May I escort you back to your room, Miss Moira?" Moira nodded. "Yes, if you please Igor." She made a point of making no further conversation with this man.
They walked silently back to Moira's room. The only detectable sounds were Moira's own, soft breathing in contrast to Igor's heavy labored breathing. And the sound of his heavy footfalls on the carpet. "Here you are." He said, and Moira said a silent prayer of thanks once they reached her room. "Thank you, and good night." Moira said quickly, slipping into her room and closing the door quickly behind her. Once inside, she did not make a move until she was sure that Igor had walked away and wasn't hovering outside her door. Moira took a deep breath, tucked herself back in, and interestingly enough, had absolutely no trouble falling asleep then.