AN: Hi again. Thanks for your reviews, really, they make me feel all warm and fuzzy. I'm very eager to get back to writing (despite all this silly college stuff pshh this is way more important) so…yeah. I hope you like it. Oh, and I'm kinda editing the 'Dracula' story to fit this plotline but it'll just be a few references here and there. And I'm sorry this chapter is way too short.

CHAPTER SIX

It took only a week for Abronsius to receive a letter in response to the few he had sent out to other supernatural experts all across Europe. Within that week, he spent his days at the Chagal Inn, whittling away to create as many wooden stakes as he could possibly fashion. His skill, at first, was subpar, but towards the end of the week the weapons looked like they could actually pierce a vampire's heart. The other villagers, he presumed, were doing something similar—at least those who had not packed up and left, risking hypothermia and more all to get away from what one man called "this vampire infested hellhole."

In any case, Abronsius was ecstatic to see that someone had finally written him back (and that the mail carrier had managed to find his current address.) When he saw the name written on the letter, he almost fell out of his chair.

"Van Helsing! Abraham Van Helsing has written to me!" he cried, not knowing nor caring if Rebecca could hear him. Ripping the letter open, he read it feverishly then burst into laughter, almost dancing with glee as he rushed down the stairs to tell Madame Chagal the news.

"What are you so happy about?" she asked, hanging up garlands of fresh garlic around the windows. Abronsius, by now, barely noticed the stench.

"Van Helsing…my idol, my inspiration, my…the most renowned vampire hunter in the world, has written back to me and he is going to help us!" Abronsius said breathlessly, handing over the letter for Rebecca to read, which she did so aloud.

"'Dear Professor Abronsius, I was very disturbed by your letter. You see, I was under the impression that the curse of the vampire had ended years ago. I assume you know about my slaying the devil known as Vlad Dracula, the very first nosferatu, and thus destroying the entire evil race. At least, that is what I thought had happened when I killed him. If what you say is true, that there are still vampires in Transylvania, then it seems I was mistaken…'" Rebecca stopped her, looking up at him with horror. "This doesn't sound like something to be happy about! He thought he had killed them all already, but clearly has not succeeded. Hmph. I see why he is your inspiration."

"Do not be so cynical!" the professor protested. "Even if he did not kill them all, he did kill the oldest and most powerful vampire in the world, presumably more powerful than any of the creatures up on that mountain. Is that not something to celebrate? The Graf should be easy work for a man like him."

Rebecca shrugged and sighed, then continued to silently read to herself.

I am on my way as you read this letter. I am trusting you as a fellow scientist, that you have told me the truth. I should arrive in two weeks' time, with a few of my men to assist us. Until I arrive, defend yourself and others as much as you need, but do not take any offensive action against the creatures unless it is absolutely necessary.

May God protect you all.

-A. Van Helsing

/

Meanwhile, during this week, the Graf routinely sent Koukol down the mountain as a spy, ordering him to take note of everything the villagers were doing, particularly the professor. Most of the time, Koukol returned with nothing to report, except that everyone was still making crosses and stakes. But one night, he returned with the news of Van Helsing's letter.

If it had been possible for the Graf to grow any paler, he would have at hearing this.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

Koukol grunted in affirmation.

"THE Van Helsing? He is coming here? In two weeks?!"

The hunchback nodded. Grigore didn't notice how tightly he was gripping the glass in his hand until it suddenly smashed, flinging red droplets everywhere. Hissing with pain, he cringed as he looked at his palm, into which several glass fragments were embedded. As he started the painful process of pulling the glass out of his skin, he sensed Sarah rushing into the room.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, an accident," Grigore muttered, gritting his teeth as he yanked out a particularly large fragment from his thumb and watched his pale flesh slowly sew itself back together again.

"What's this about a Van Helsing?" Sarah pressed on. "Who is he?"

"The bringer of our death, that's who," the Graf seethed. As he turned to her, she saw, for once, true fear in his eyes. "How can you not know who he is? It only happened a few years ago….only on the other side of Transylvania…"

"What do you mean? What did he do?"

"All you need to know is that he managed to destroy a vampire who was much older and much stronger than I. The very first vampire, in fact."

Sarah frowned, puzzled. She hadn't even heard of any other vampires, aside from the Graf, and those he presumably had turned. As far as she knew, he was the first nosferatu.

"Did you know him?"
"Van Helsing? No. I've never met him and never wish to."

"No, I mean this mysterious other vampire," she clarified. He shook his head.

"I have never seen him, not many people did. I only heard whispers about him. He seemed to be much more reclusive than I. Still, he was always greatly respected and feared—even during his human life," he said gravely, going silent for a moment before suddenly cracking a bitter smile. "But even a fearsome tyrant such as he fell at the hands of some mere mortal with a doctorate."

Sarah glanced around, unsure of what to say. "There is still the option to leave."

Grigore seemed to consider this for a moment. In the end though, he just shook his head. "I can never leave this place. No matter what happens. It was where I was born, and if I am meant to die after all, it will be here."

The image of a human Grigore was strange enough to Sarah enough as it was, but the brief image that struck her mind of what the Graf might have been like as a child, growing up in this very castle centuries ago, was quite unnerving.

"Well, we're almost finished with the barrier. Surely that should help keep them back. And Magda and Papa have already started gathering weapons from other villages…"

Well, 'gathering' isn't exactly the word for it. More like stealing weapons and possibly taking a little more than that from their owners….

But who could be bothered with such technicalities?

"Do you know how to use those weapons? Or even those that come naturally to us?" Grigore asked her with a raised brow, his arms returning to their usual position across his chest. She shot him an accusatory look.

"Do you? I doubt you've ever held any sort of firearm in your entire life," she scoffed with derision. From his silence, she assumed she was correct. "And as for biting, you know I have experience with—"

"Not just that, there's so much more that you haven't even tried-"

"So you keep saying. And yet, you never get around to showing me just what a vampire is capable of."

He turned away with a regretful sigh. "I did plan on teaching you. My promises were not just pretty words. It is only that more pressing matters have taken my attention recently..."

Sarah was well aware of that fact, but still had been dying to learn about the good parts of being what she was: all of those fanciful ideas he used to lure her to him in the first place. If it wasn't all just a load of lies (as she had suspected almost immediately upon her being bitten) then she wanted to claim her power, and claim it now. And this very moment was a perfect opportunity to ask. Stepping forward, she hesitantly rested a hand upon Grigore's shoulder, then gazed up at him with the most innocent, doe-eyed expression she could muster.

"You can show me now…"

He looked down at her, a conflicted expression on his face as he started to reach his hand up, almost touching her cheek with his fingertips before suddenly drawing them back. "We still have much work to do, Sarah."

"Would I not be more useful to you—when the battle comes—knowing all the extent of my abilities and practicing them?" she suggested, now daring to push her body up against his, smirking as he tensed. He let out a shaky sigh before shaking his head, chuckling quietly.

"I have already witnessed your natural talent with manipulation. But if you ever hope to seduce anyone aside from a mere boy like Alfred, then yes, you do need further instruction...how fortunate for you then, since manipulation and seduction happens to be my area of expertise."

/

Alfred's week had been unexpectedly calm. He had not spoken to the Graf nor Sarah in days, and if he ever saw them, it was only a brief glimpse in the halls of the castle. He might have said something to Sarah in these moments, but Herbert always managed to pull off a smooth distraction before he got the chance to do anything. Whether keeping him and Sarah separated was in Herbert's own interest or his fathers (or both), Alfred was not quite sure. In any case, the blonde vampire was behaving quite gentlemanly—all things considered.

They spent most of their nights helping to craft a solid defense plan against the vampire hunters. Alfred's job, naturally, was to predict what the enemy might do, although he insisted he really did not know much more about this than anyone else.

By the end of the week, Alfred and Herbert (occasionally with the help of Chagal and Magda), had managed to construct a formidable barrier around the castle. Or at least it would be formidable, once it was in action. For now, it mostly just looked like piles of sticks.

He was observing this would-be wall from the top of one of the castle's towers now, wondering in the back of his mind if this all would really work, or if they would all perish. Would their deaths be quick, or would they really be as painful as the Graf had forewarned? Pushing this thought away, Alfred looked up to the moon, once more reveling in its beauty. Leaning over the edge of the stone walls of the tower, he looked down a hundred feet or so to the ground, only to realize he was not afraid as he normally would be of such a height.

Herbert keeps promising that he will teach me to fly... I wonder if it would just come naturally. Perhaps if I just stepped off this ledge….

"Alfred."

The boy jumped immediately at the familiar, low murmur of the person he currently hated most: Graf von Krolock. Whirling around, he was even more startled to find the vampire's smirking face only a few inches away from his, causing him to step away. As he did, he felt his lower half hit the cold stone, but the upper half was leaning back into nothingness.

"Did I startle you?"

"No," Alfred lied. Since he had become a vampire, he was admittedly less fearful (and better at keep his voice from shaking when he was), but it did not stop the Graf from seeing right through him. But he ignored this, skipping straight to the point.

"Sarah needs you," he said with a strange, knowing look in his eyes. That gaze was always so predatory even when he was being amiable, and was always so firmly fixed upon whoever was unfortunate enough to be speaking with him. It was extremely unnerving. Turning around, his cape swirled around him as he motioned Alfred to follow. "Come."