Gabriel had never felt so frightened in his life.

His heart threateded to burst from his chest as he ran through the darkened cavern, his torch's flame quavering as he went. Above him, he could still hear the heavy footsteps and furious voices of Dracula's guards, and frankly, his constant hypervenilating wasn't making the fact any better. His flushed, beardless face was dripping with sweat, mostly out of fear that he would get caught than the intense heat surrounding him. His legs felt as if they were burning; like a ravenous fire was snaking up his calf muscles and painfully inching towards his midsection. Although as a young man, he enjoyed testing his physical limits, this was totally uncalled for.

Gabriel was instantly snapped out of his trance by the sound of garbled voices hovering overhead.

"Footsteps!" one of the guards exclaimed. "He must be headed to the south!"

For a moment, Gabriel was scared shitless, but that was soon replaced by a quick sigh of relief. Luckily, a number of Dracula's guards were buffoons; simple men who couldn't find their asses with a map and a kerosene burner. Still, he had to get moving, because he knew that the guards would eventually find him. The earth pounded restlessly under him as he bolted through the dank caverns, splashing through foul-smelling puddles of brine scattered throughout the area. The warm, damp air sang in his ears, so severely that Gabriel thought he was hearing voices. His heart pumped even faster, and his lims began to burn as he drealized that he was hearing voices.

Gabriel flattened his back against the cavern wall and closed his eyes, trying his best to decipher the voices. They were garbled together, and it was impossible to figure out what they were all saying. Maybe they found him. Maybe it was too late. The footsteps began to get closer and closer, and his hand instinctively dove for the stolen pistol at his side. The voices began to get louder, along with the footsteps.

'It's either now or never." he muttered silently.

At that moment, Gabriel hear himself scream, and the world faded into a violent sea of red. When he came to, the cavern was illuminated with a bright orange flame, and two strange faces stared back at him angrily, their weapons drawn upon him as his were upon them. From what he could see, one was a ruddy, somewhat malnourished-looking pale man with a rugged face and ill-fitting clothing. In his left hand was what seemed to be a large gun of some sort; far larger than Gabriel's pistol. What susrprised Gabriel the most was the man's right hand, or lack thereof. Instead of flesh and bone, the appendage, from his hand to a percentage of his forearm, seemed to be made of metal.

"Hold it, buddy!" the man barked harshly, cocking his weapon as if he was about to fire. A slender hand lightly touched the man's wrist, as if to motion for him to stop.

Gabriel's eyes trailed over to see that the pretty hand belonged to a young woman. In her hands was a wooden crossbow, which was lined with silver. She had a skin tone reminiscent of caramel candy that looked sweet and soft to the touch. Her face was vaguely oval-shaped but attractive, neatly framed by her long crop of wavy, jet-black hair. Although the torch flame was considerably bright, he saw that the orange glow of the fire turned into an indescribable bluish-violet color in her big, bright green eyes. This young lady was beautiful, but familiar to a certain extent. In a way, she reminded him of something he had lost so long ago.

"Lower your weapon." the woman said softly, patting her comrade's wrist. "He doesn't look like one of them. Maybe he can help us get out of here alive."

Gabriel still aimed his pistol at the odd pair, at the same time listening to the cadence of the girl's voice. He saw her mouth move when she spoke, almost identical to the manner of Sophia. What he truly noticed was the barely noticeable crescent-shaped birthmark on the woman's right cheek, and tears welled in the older man's eyes as ten years' worth of pain and misery were erased in that one moment.

"Emmelianne..." Gabriel muttered unconsciously.

The young woman's ears perked, and she blushed. Only one man she had ever known had called her by the middle name her Creole mother had cursed her with. She turned from her comrade and stared over at him with wide, unblinking eyes. The pretty young lady smiled.

"Papa?"