Sometimes I wonder if things will ever change for the better. The world around me seems to constantly get worse; the enemies I fought against for generations now rule the world, right is wrong, up is down, yadda, yadda, yadda. Everything was bad when I was alive, and it's only gotten consistently worse. I'm starting to believe that the world will never change for the better, and that every action I take to defeat the evil is just delaying the inevitable.
-excerpt from the Vampire Journals
Chapter 15: Down in a Hole
Funny, but it had been almost twenty-four hours and Seras still wasn't tired. She understood how things were going to be different now that she was... different... but she thought that when the sun started coming up, she would feel tired again, like how she had used to. She had worked the night shift often, so being awake when it was dark out was something she had already been used to, but the sun coming up usually signaled the end of her shift. When her shift ended, she usually felt pretty tired, but now she hardly ever felt tired, almost as if she was constantly running on adrenaline.
Alucard had slipped away from her some time ago, and she had been alone with her thoughts ever since. She had plenty of time to reflect on everything she had been told, and sorting through it all in her mind had been a task in and of itself. She was no detective, but she wasn't stupid, so looking at the evidence and allowing it to show her a picture had been something she would do rather often when the paperwork got boring.
The picture that was being painted now was quite terrible.
At some point in his life, Alucard had fought in Dracula's army. During that time, Dracula had gone to war with the Valarious family for whatever reason. Nine generations later, Anna continued the fight, and her advisor, Gideon, decided to betray her. He was consumed, and then impersonated, by Alucard, who embedded himself into Anna's inner circle, and had fallen in love with her unintentionally. After a large battle, Anna had been turned by Dracula as punishment, and then Alucard consumed Dracula. Or, maybe Alucard consumed Dracula, and then turned Anna himself.
Or maybe Alucard had been Dracula all along, the voice in the back of her brain whispered.
But that wouldn't make sense! If Alucard was Dracula, then he should be dead! And if he actually is Dracula, then why is he working with the Helsings, sworn enemies of the supernatural? And furthermore, Dracula sounds far more intimidating than Alucard, so I don't see why he wouldn't just continue to call himself that.
Unless he's hiding something.
But what could he possibly be hiding? And why?
"Excuse me, mon ami", broke the train of thought that Seras was having.
In fact, it quite startled her. She quickly turned to find Pip, cradling his upgraded FAL, with a slight smirk on his face.
"Is this seat taken, perchance?"
She was about to tell him to fuck right off when she remembered that moment at the café when they had walked through the door together. Pip was probably a terrible person who had probably done terrible things, but she had to admit that he did something for her. She still couldn't quite believe that she found him attractive.
"If you're asking for a seat", Seras said, narrowing her eyes, "I'm told it's a free country."
"Ah, magnifique! The best kind of freedom! Freedom of Seat! Ha!"
His sense of humor, she began to realize, was all just cleverly disguised sex jokes. While she tried to unravel what juvenile humor had been injected into that little one-liner, he slid in beside her. For a moment, neither party spoke. Pip glanced at her, and then returned his gaze to his rifle for a moment.
"So", Pip began, as if there hadn't ever been an awkward silence. "I see you training with the sword, yes? Learning the motions that will make your attacker falter at every step, which will tire your opponent and make him surrender willingly to your every whim!"
Was that a handjob joke?
"I think I would like you using a sword more, if all of your movements weren't taught by someone so obviously inexperienced herself!"
Yep, definitely a handjob joke.
"Inexperienced how", Seras asked him. "She's lived for, what, two hundred years now?"
"Not inexperienced with the sword, mon ami", he corrected, lifting a finger to his lips, "but at lying."
"Lying?"
"You see, every once in a while, you come across a woman who is not as quick with her tongue as she thinks she is."
Was that a blowjob joke?
"When she tries to make it spin, it produces no feeling of warmth throughout your body, no feeling of being the only man in the world, no feeling of pleasure that comes between every individual stroke!"
Definitely a blowjob joke. That one was far less subtle.
"You see, mon ami, the point of lying is to convince the other party, and when the other party is unconvinced, you are forever known as a terrible liar!"
Oh, goodness, was that an ADULTRY joke?
"Look, Mr. Bernadotte", Seras began, "I'm sure you're going somewhere with this. Perhaps just getting to the point would help me understand exactly what the point is?"
Pip nodded, stretching himself out.
"Alright then, mon ami. Let's just lay it out to bake in the sun, like a lady of the night trying to blend in."
Ok, that was kinda funny.
"It is my firm and unwavering belief that the woman training you how to swordfight, Anna or whatever, is planning to betray us."
That caught Seras' attention.
"Why do you say that?"
"No outright denial, that's a start", Pip noted, as he pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket. "Do you mind?"
"Yes, actually, I do", Seras said with a frown.
Pip shrugged and replaced the cigarette to his coat.
"Well, mon ami, I say so for many reasons. First and foremost, my gut is telling me so, and eight years in the Middle East has taught me that listening to the gut is crucial to survival."
Seras wanted to debate that, but she understood it, too. There were many times when gut instinct saved her life on the night shift. Frankly, her gut wasn't telling her much of anything these days, but she wouldn't discount Pip's intuition.
"Secondly, I don't trust how quickly she changed sides."
She wanted to debate Pip on that, too, but she had already openly admitted that she hated vampires. The case against her was quite strong.
"Third and most importantly", Pip concluded, "she still hates every single one of us, openly admits to doing so, in fact. Yet here she is, training you in the archaic art of sword fighting, which, mind you, she can counter easily, because she has two guns at her hips now, too. And why would she train you in an art that she could easily counter? Because it makes us feel like we can trust her. That split-second of hesitation is all it takes for a bullet to pop an eye straight out of your skull."
It sounded like he was speaking from experience when he said that, but she wasn't about to ask him to elaborate; she had had just about enough of stories for one night. She did, however, spare a glance at Anna, who was rubbing an oily cloth over her sword. It looked like she was mumbling to it, almost as if the two of them, woman and sword, were having a conversation.
"Now", Pip continued, breaking her train of thought, "I know she's your girlfriend or whatever-"
"WHAT", Seras practically shouted, turning a furious glare on Pip and baring her teeth. "She is NOT my bloody girlfriend!"
"Alright, fine, she's not ton amour", Pip said defensively, retreating to the far side of his seat, and putting his hands up in surrender. "But she does have sway on you, no?"
"No she bloody well doesn't", Seras declared, jabbing an accusing finger into Pip's forehead.
"Good", Pip told her, lowering his hands, and standing up. "I just wanted to know that you'll be on our side when the shooting starts."
He jammed his hands in his pockets, and slinked away, sliding into a seat near his Mercs, who all immediately began chattering like monkeys in a cage. Seras turned her gaze back towards Anna, who was still mumbling to her sword. But suddenly, she turned a gaze on the back of Alucard's head that would have made a lesser man drop dead.
And Seras began to wonder if Pip wasn't on to something.
...
Schrodinger hadn't remembered falling asleep, but when he woke up, his hands had been submerged in a puddle of blood. So, naturally, he had to look for a place where he could effectively wash his gloves. Trying to explain away to the old Chinese lady at the laundromat that it was just tomato juice had been difficult, but a big smile never hurt anyone's situation. Now, while he was waiting for his clothes to be washed away of his sins, he was trying to convince the bartender that he was of legal age to drink. And once again, a smile never hurt his situation.
Milennium had always considered him too young to be indulging in the acute amounts of alcohol that he enjoyed, but what did they know? He could heal himself so fast that getting drunk was almost a chore, so pounding several kegs of beer in a night wasn't a party trick so much as it was a lifestyle. It seemed to convince the bartender, however, so he got his seat at the counter next to a woman who they claimed could easily outdrink him.
She was chugging a bottle of vodka when he slipped into the seat next to her. Her cheeks were already a little bit rosy, but from the look on her face, a score was out of the question. His reception upon firmly placing himself on the stool was not a warm one.
"Not interested", she said, in a thick Romanian accent, "go away."
Frankly, Schrodinger hadn't even gotten a very good look at her, but now that he did, he could tell that he was almost taller than her, and at his tallest, he curved off at five-foot nothing. She was wearing all black, naturally, with her hood drawn up to hide her pale face. Her green eyes stared angrily at her bottle, refusing to meet his own, but the two black bangs near the outside of her eyebrows swished at his suggestion.
"Not interested in a little more drinking?"
"Not interested in you", she confirmed, as she turned her piercing glare on him.
Usually, the eyes were enough to make women go nuts, but she was particularly stubborn. If he really needed to, he could just whip out the ears, but then women just treated him like a household pet. He was still a bit awkward around the ladies, and since they usually ended up treating him like a kid, he was even less experienced beyond, "Hey, wanna hook up?". But he wasn't here for any of that, and besides, the point of his newly acquired ball cap was to keep a low profile.
"Good, because I just want to get drunk. I didn't want to take the bill anyway."
Schrodinger slapped two twenties down on the counter, saying, "Your most alcoholic whisky, please."
The woman raised an eyebrow at him. As the bartender passed him a forty of Jack, Schrodinger gave her a lopsided grin. He tore the top off and put it up to his lips, draining the liquid straight from the bottle.
That seemed to get her attention. She raised her own bottle after only a moment of hesitation, and drank greedily from it, watching him out of the corner of her eye. They both finished around the same time, and already Schrodinger was beginning to feel the tunnel-like thought that signified a buzz. It had been a long time, almost since he had joined Milennium, since he had gotten a proper amount of drink in his system. Actually, he was starting to wonder if the ladies weren't the only ones treating him like a kid anymore.
The Nazis had seen him for what he truly was; a vicious killer, one who could carry out any order perfectly and without impunity. He had been trained, mended... built for that very purpose, and during the winter wars in Mother Russia, they had made extensive use of those skills, even allowing him a Death's Head cap and SS uniform. Yet, here was Milennium, dressing him in Hitler Youth attire, and sending him off to go film people instead of doing what he had always been meant to do.
He understood that killing Alucard was Milennium's ultimate goal, and the fact that he was a major playing piece in that puzzle was a great honor. But they made it seem like he was only still just a child, even though his ultimate goal was to bring down the world's greatest monster.
They finished their bottles at the same time, both slamming them down on the counter. The woman turned a curious gaze on him, and he returned a confident grin. Suddenly, the green began to melt from her eyes, replaced by a piercing red.
"I smell blood on you, boy", the woman told him.
One thing Milennium hadn't forced him to change was the SS knife that he had been awarded after a particularly brutal assassination. From time to time, he still touched it for strength, and now was one of those times. It was clear to Schrodinger that this woman was very powerful, maybe even close to Alucard in some aspects.
"Oh, don't worry", the woman said, turning her gaze away, the green returning to her eyes. "I'm not going to rat you out. Who was the unlucky sucker?"
Schrodinger casually lifted his hand from his knife to scratch his head.
"Suckers, actually."
He suddenly felt very guilty. He didn't want to think of those poor women that he had ambushed that way. They had brought him into their home and shown him compassion, and he-
"Four of them, right? I smell four very similar bloods. Though, they are inherently different, in their own similar way. Definitely clones. Maybe homunculi?"
Schrodinger blinked.
"Who are you?"
The question had come out without much thought behind it.
"Oh, it doesn't matter", she told him with a dismissive flick of her wrist.
Suddenly, she perked straight up. She gasped, pulling air into her lungs like she was recovering for a strike to the gut. She crushed her bottle in her hand, squeezing it around the glass until it shattered in an instant, putting several deep cuts into her hand.
She wheeled around, dashing quickly to the table behind her, her hood flying off in the process. Her hair was very short everywhere else on her head, cropped short enough that it stayed very close to her skull, but long enough to demonstrate just how thick it really was.
Her fist slammed down on the table, getting everyone's attention.
"The man in black armor", she said carefully. "When did you see him?"
"Uh... yesterday?"
"WHERE", she practically screamed, grabbing the man by his collar.
"In the movie theater! Where else are you gonna see Batman?!"
The woman blinked.
"Oh", she said, releasing her grip on him. "I thought you were talking about someone else. My apologies."
She quietly and calmly returned to her seat, ignoring all of the curious glances she was getting. She sat gently back down into her seat, casually putting her arm up on the counter.
Schrodinger didn't really want to say anything to provoke her, but...
"Your hand is bleeding."
"It is", the woman asked neutrally.
She gingerly lifted her hand, examining it. One specific wound on her thumb caught her attention. She brought it up to her mouth, and sucked on it, giving little moans of pleasure as she did so.
"Yes, I can almost taste it... that seed that was planted inside of me... by my Master..."
Schrodinger decided, in that moment, that hoes were crazy, and that he had had enough of them. He jumped straight off of the stool, and ran for the door as fast as he could. He supposed he would just pick up his laundry early.
...
"...And that's the way the cookie fumbles", Pip finished.
Apparently, it was an inside joke between the Mercs, because instead of calling him an idiot, the Mercs all suppressed their snickering. Alucard was beginning to get increasingly bored with their dumb jokes, but he couldn't really complain, since he had yet to contribute to le funny. This entire train ride had been one large buzzkill for him, and frankly, he wanted off.
Fortunately, they were finally almost to their destination. Finally, this long, terrible ride was about to be over.
The only problem was that they would be stepping out of the frying pan and straight into Hell.
The seat next to him creaked, and he had to admit that he was surprised to smell Seras next to him. She didn't speak for a moment, perhaps feeling out the situation, perhaps finding the right words.
"I keep going back to something Mum told me", Seras admitted. "She said that there was a third party of some kind."
"I don't know who it is", Alucard quickly said.
"But you do, don't you", Seras countered. "You do know who it is!"
Alucard thought back to the day that more than likely brought his downfall.
"Abraham, who is this? Where are you going", the Swiss Guard yelled.
"Just a man", Abraham told him, limping up to the post at the end of the road leading out of the Vatican. "And I don't know where I'm going. But I can't stay here."
"Of course you can, Abraham", the Guard told him. "You killed Dracula, after all! You're a hero to Christianity!"
Abraham snorted.
"And will things change now that Dracula's reign has ended? Will the Pope's corruption be brought to light and addressed? I think not!"
That made the Guard bristle.
"Watch your tongue, Abraham", the Guard scolded. "Being a hero doesn't make you immune to punishment!"
"Punished for speaking my mind, yes", Abraham said dismissively. "Let us through, friend. We must leave."
"Where are you going, Abraham?"
"I don't know", Abraham admitted.
"England", Alucard said, in a voice that surprised Abraham.
Undoubtedly, he was about to comment on his grasp of the English language, but he was interrupted.
"Hold the gate shut", a Bishop shouted, as he came sprinting up, trying not to trip over his long robes. "Hold the gate shut!"
The bishop had a stack of papers in his hand. Abraham Van Helsing's final after-action report, never filed, since he had been in and out of the Vatican's infirmary for the entirety of his duration back home. An after-action report that revealed all; that revealed he, in fact, did not kill Dracula, that he was still at large, and still a threat to humanity.
"I'm sure you have time to explain this before you leave!"
Abraham closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. When he opened them again, there was a look of acceptance in them. He opened his mouth to speak.
"I assure you he doesn't", Alucard interrupted, "and even if he did have time, he wouldn't waste it talking to a lump like you."
The bishop turned an angry glare towards Alucard.
"And this is him, then", the bishop asked angrily. "This is Dracula?"
"Name's Alucard", he corrected.
"Surely", the bishop said with a scowl. He turned back to Abraham, saying, "Well? Explain this!"
Abraham opened his mouth once more, and once more, Alucard cut him off.
"Tell you what", Alucard told the bishop, "how about a trade?"
The bishop turned his head, a curious gaze on his face.
"What kind of trade?"
"If you're so certain of who I am, then surely, a vial of my blood would suffice as a trade for those papers?"
Abraham turned a severe gaze on Alucard, but said nothing.
Alucard reached into his coat, producing one of the vials he had kept on him, on the chance that he ran into a werewolf. He pulled the cork out of the top, and clenched his hand around the cork. He put his hand up to his mouth, and bit into his finger, hard enough to get a sufficient leak going. He put the vial under the wound, filling it with his crimson essence.
When the small vial was about halfway full, he put the cork back in it, and passed it to the bishop. For a moment, the bishop merely stared at the vial. Then the bishop lunged for it. Alucard was faster, pulling it back.
"Papers first", Alucard told him with a wicked grin.
The bishop made a disgusted face, and thrust the papers towards him. Alucard ripped them from his hands, and tossed the vial to the bishop. The bishop, with a look of horror on his face, barely caught the vial. Alucard turned back to the Swiss Guard, the wicked grin still adorning his face.
"Weren't we supposed to be leaving by now?"
The Guard swallowed, and opened the gate. Man and beast walked through, ready to take on the world.
Yet even today, a nagging thought dictated to him that he had just orchestrated his own downfall.
"I don't know", Alucard told Seras. "It could be anyone. The only person who truly knew was Abraham Van Helsing. He sealed a deal with the third party, and sealed a letter containing their identity. He passed it down his family tree under strict orders not to open it, unless there was reasonable suspicion that the third party had been in some way corrupted."
Seras looked at him, wondering if what he was saying was true. She supposed it didn't matter. If he knew, he knew. But she didn't know.
"You talked a lot about Anna during that time long ago", Seras began, kind of shaky, "but I can't help but wonder where Van Helsing was during all of that?"
"You mean Abraham", Alucard asked.
"Yes", Seras affirmed.
"He was there the whole time... or, at least, most of it."
Alucard stretched out, putting his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, his lips curling up into a smile.
"After my second encounter with Anna, she realized very quickly that she was out of her league. So, instead of committing deathpacito by pressing on by herself, as her forefathers had, she called for help in the form of Abraham Van Helsing. Now, Abraham had been in a wing of the Catholic Church at the time, but he wasn't officially apart of the church itself. He was initially apart of the Illuminati, and yes, they're real, and everybody hates them."
"Now, his job, basically, was to kick ass. They gave him baller-ass weapons, and he gave them bodies, but he wasn't the kind of kick-ass that you keep close to you, because he wasn't fanatically loyal to either the Catholic Church or the Illuminati. They mostly had him doing milk run jobs, and on the side, he would beat up evil-doers by himself. That was, until he found Anna Valarious' discarded letter."
"Some idiot had literally just thrown it in a trash bin, and Abraham happened by it. When he read it, he immediately asked the ranking members if he could go to Romania. Of course, they told him 'no', and they had a good reason to."
"You see, there was a traitor amongst our ranks, and they had been grooming him to take over my-ahem, Dracula's spot. When he found out, he left him on a Vatican flagpole, and naturally, they turned to Abraham to go snuff Dracula out. But, by then, he had already secretly packed up and left."
"They started supporting him with money and guns from afar, and somehow, he managed to keep it secret. I think he smuggled it all in with the food they were importing. I don't know, I never asked, I didn't care, you can all fuck yourselves."
"Funny enough, but until he went to Romania, he had never even seen a vampire. but before he left, he did as much research as he could. When he got to Romania, he had a knowledge edge over us."
"Yeah, he was quite a sight when he walked through Anna's door..."
A dusty duster, a wide-brimmed hat, and two huge revolvers at his sides. He was greeted at first by absolute silence, but slowly, as the Romanians realized that he wasn't an imposter, they began to show their appreciation through gratuitous shouting.
Abraham ignored it all, asking in a deep, booming voice, with a thick Dutch accent overlaying, "Where is the Queen Anna Valarious?!"
The room quickly went silent, and Anna stepped forward from the crowd. Abraham looked her up and down, noting the sword at her hip, and the man's clothing that she wore for combat purposes.
He nodded.
"We have work to do", he said, pushing through the crowd to find a private area.
"Yeah", Alucard told Seras, "he was something else. He quickly gained everyone's trust, mostly because he didn't seek to gain it, and before long, he was Chief Advisory for War Efforts. And frankly, he did it effortlessly. He conducted supply raids on our own supply raids, ambushes on our reconnaissance, and feint attacks on our strongholds. He had us fooled from the very beginning."
There had always been something about him, a certain sadness that he identified with, a certain numbness that he almost wished he could replicate, and yet an unwavering faith in the Lord that he had once had himself. Abraham was someone who he could see as himself in another time and place.
Dinner with the man near the head of the table was strange. Usually it had been filled with outsiders attempting to lick Anna's boots for clout, and insiders mumbling amongst themselves about strategy. Everyone on the inside was already well aware of the threat that Dracula placed on them, so unity amongst them was never a shallow act. Anna tended to stick with the insiders, mostly because she hated having the outsiders so much as speak to her.
But when Abraham was around, everyone was rather quiet. The insiders were satisfied that they had finally found a man who could effectively lead them, and the outsiders... it was like they were afraid to speak. Afraid to be ousted as the frauds they were.
Anna sat next to him, as occasionally they would share glances. Every time her eyes turned on his, his heart melted. When they weren't together in public, they would talk for hours, usually about nothing important, but in a place like this, those little glances were the world to him.
After one such glance, he turned his head to see how far into his meal Abraham had gotten. What he got instead was a curious glance from the man himself. Curious indeed, but cold, and calculating. He was about to do something important, and Gideon's reaction to it might seal his fate.
Abraham suddenly stood from the table, and quickly asked, "How quickly would we be able to find a spy amongst the ranks?"
The table fell silent. People stopped moving mid-chew, some whilst still bringing food up to their mouths. Everyone was staring at him, and his eyes darted from man to man in turn.
Yarl, the man in charge of security, stood in his wrinkled and thinning uniform, the bags under his eyes accented by the lighting.
"We have men who are trained specifically to root out vampires amongst the ranks", he explained. "Dracula has tried planting spies before, and each time, we have stopped him. If you are worried about an assassination plot-"
"I'm not worried about assassins", he dismissed. "The assassin comes to do his job quick; too quick, he makes mistakes, he is easily found. Furthermore, he is easily countered. But what of a man who is not here to kill, but to learn? He is slow, careful, he takes his time, he is hard to find because he thinks ahead."
Yarl narrowed his eyes, saying, "I'm not certain I know where you're going with this."
"Is there any certain way to tell a vampire from a man?"
Yarl chuckled, saying, "There is garlic in every meal we have."
"The spy would not be warded off by garlic", Abraham told him. "The spy knows that garlic does not kill vampires, so he eats it happily. If it makes him sick, he hides it. Because he has learned that being human is all too easy."
The table was silent again.
"Mr. Helsing", Yarl said hesitantly, "are you saying that there is a spy amongst our ranks?"
For a moment, the silence persisted. Abraham straightened his shirt, redoing the collar on it. He calmly retook his seat.
"No", Abraham said carefully. "I am simply curious."
Anna glanced Gideon's way. It was not the accusing glance that he had dreaded, rather a concerned look that brought relief flooding through him. However, that may not be the case forever.
It was time to make his move.
"Two weeks later, I caught him alone."
The wood shed was not a place that was particularly inhabited by any one person; everyone was expected to do their fair share here. Since most of the town was on high alert at all times, there were almost never any unexplained disappearances from the Valarious household, so there was really no need to go anywhere in pairs. Abraham ending up alone in the woodshed was bound to happen at some point.
He recognized him before he had even stepped in behind him. And almost immediately, he reached for his gun. A quick maneuver disarmed him, and the big iron clattered to the ground. Abraham glanced back up, meeting his eyes, reaching for his other gun simultaneously. He wasn't fast enough.
The hand grabbed his forehead, and suddenly, they were both encased in fog. The wood shed was gone, replaced by an endless sea of rolling, silent fog. Dracula paced around him, as he once again attempted to reach for his gun, only to find it missing from the holster. Abraham slowly relaxed his hand.
"What do you want?"
"You assume I don't already have what I want", Dracula asked, continuing his pacing.
"If you did", Abraham said simply, not meeting his eyes anymore, "I would be dead."
"Very perceptive", Dracula commended. "I need your help."
"I'll never help you", Abraham told him.
"You don't understand", Dracula told him. "My army plans to invade Turkey by the month's end. We've learned from all of our mistakes. This time, we will be unstoppable. This time, we will conquer the whole world."
"So then", Abraham said sarcastically, "it sounds like you don't need my help at all!"
"They don't", Dracula told him, nodding in the direction of his castle. "I do. I want out."
Abraham turned his head in his direction. Apparently, he had his attention. he was a little too smart to prompt Dracula, however; clearly, his silence indicated that he wanted the most information he could get out of the conversation.
"I have begun to realize what ruling the world will require of me", he explained, "and I don't want it. I have found something else that I want for myself."
"I know who you are", Abraham told him. "It's not like you to suddenly change your heart."
"You have no reason to believe me", Dracula told him, "and certainly no reason to help me."
"But I do believe you", Abraham said, aligning himself with Dracula, staring down a creature that was easily a head and a half taller than him.
"Then I want you to kill me."
Both men were silent for a moment.
"Why me?"
Suddenly, someone called Abraham's name. Dracula's head snapped to the sound, his demeanor changing. He would have recognized that voice anywhere.
"It is too late", Dracula told him. "It is time for me to leave."
The fog dissipated, and with it, Dracula faded away.
Anna dashed into the wood shed, yelling, "Abraham, come quickly! You will want to see this!"
The Dutchman followed quickly behind the Romanian woman, leaving the pair of red eyes behind the wood pile alone.
"Well", Seras asked, giving Alucard a start. "What happened?"
"Uh, well", Alucard said, not realizing that he had spaced out, "nothing, actually. I just talked to him for a moment."
"And you felt the need to tell me this why?"
"You're getting snappy, Police Girl, but I certainly hope your reflexes are better than your wit. And possibly wetter."
"Oh, forget this", Seras said standing up. "I'm gonna go talk to someone who has a vagina."
"Tell Pip I said 'hi'."
...
"I suppose I could fight in a dress", Anna told Seras. "I have fought in nothing but a nightgown before. But pants are much more streamlined."
Seras only half-listened, tugging at her shorts.
"And don't get me started on long hair. Yes, it is, technically, a tactical disadvantage, but if I were to trim it down, it would be an admittance that someone has ownership of me. And since I'm neither owned, nor a masochist, I shall not be slave to man, woman, or child."
"Yep, you tell 'em, girl."
"I remain free, and so shall my hair."
"Uh-huh."
"Though I probably should cut it. Every advantage I can gain over Dracula is a needed advantage."
Suddenly, in the dark recesses of Seras' mind, a question formed.
"How powerful is Dracula?"
Anna looked at her sideways, taking on a thousand-yard stare.
"He's unstoppable", she finally told her, turning back to look at her feet.
On impulse, Seras reached over to give her shoulder a comforting pat. When her hand touched Anna's shoulder, her vision changed. Suddenly, she was hiding behind a pile of rubbish, mostly split wood. She was no longer in a train car, but instead she was in a decrepit and poorly lit sawmill. Equipment had been broken, tables had been overturned, and a large group of men, almost fifteen of them in total, were fighting desperately against an unseen enemy.
The noise of the place was overwhelming; something like cannons boomed, projectiles smacked into every conceivable area, and the sound of marching kept getting louder and louder. She heard a whimper next to her, and she squeezed her brother's arm, hoping he wouldn't feel her trembling.
Through an open doorway, the only glimpse of the battle she could get, fading sunlight glistened off of armored men, carrying older rifles that bellowed and belched white smoke as they advanced closer and closer to the sawmill. It was like they were completely surrounded by a sea of metal and smoke.
Suddenly, a hand, clad in black armor, with what looked like sharpened claws for fingers, raised up from the sea. Almost immediately, the sea stopped its advance, and the soldiers all put their weapons in a resting position. The hand went down, and was lost amongst the sea again.
The knights all let their weapons fall, their weariness evident. Some of them were heaving rapidly, having had to reload their percussion cap rifles faster than ever. One brave man poked his head over the table. He quickly ducked back down, mumbling about how odd it was that they would stop when they had them dead to rights.
Captain Rain coughed.
"Unstoppable", he breathed. "His army, his machines... he's unstoppable."
"Courage, men", Hogarth Valarious, Anna's unwavering father called out. "We have never in our history been as close as we are today! Valarious Knights in the past have seen his face... and felt his blade. But today, we are united! Romanians, Catholics, all may call this land home now! And all stand against Dracula!"
No calls of, "They stop, for they fear", no cries of, "Off with his head", and no roars of, "Victory or death!"
These men knew all too well how terrible their situation was.
Captain Rain quickly approached Hogarth, and said, in a low whisper, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, actually. The Vatican will send no more reinforcements."
Hogarth did not become enraged by this news. He did not shout that the world was unfair. Instead, he let out a long exhale.
"So", he said evenly, "this is the end."
"My four groups are all on their way", the good Captain told Hogarth. "Maybe together, we stand a chance."
"I doubt they will get here in time", Hogarth said evenly. "I would rather let Dracula come to me, as it is."
"Why would you", the Captain asked, appalled. "He chose the ground that we stand on! This is his endgame, not yours!"
"It has always been his endgame", Hogarth told him neutrally. "Every battle we've every fought with him has always been his. The Vatican was our last hope."
"So you would give up?"
"Perhaps you have a clever idea, Captain?"
The Captain, for a moment, was deathly silent. Slowly, he opened his mouth.
"I've never seen a vampire attack like this in broad daylight. He is efficient, ruthless. My men and I have been training since childhood to fight creatures like him. We have fought creatures like him. What was different this time?"
"Like I said in my letter", Hogarth said, shaking his head, causing his eyepatch to slide a little, "there are no monsters like him. He is ruthless and efficient, yes, but he has thought behind it all; and what's more, he has a moral code. Had he known my boy and girl were along today, I don't believe he would have fought at all."
Hogarth reached out a hand, patting the Captain on his shoulder.
"It is not hard to understand him. He was once like us, strong in the faith. But he was wronged, terribly wronged. Revenge corrupts all, Captain. If he fought like a Christian today, it is only because he knows us better than we know ourselves. He has seen our weakness, knows our strengths, and uses both against us. But he cannot win, Captain, for he knows not himself. If he does not die today, he will be stopped another way."
Captain Rain glanced at the two children behind the woodpile.
"And you know all of this, how?"
"The Valarious knew Dracula all too well. When he was a man, we fought alongside him. We love him and respect him, and we want to rid him of this disease that has corrupted him. This is a fate he does not deserve."
"Tell that to my men he left bleeding on that field", with that declaration, the Captain spat on the ground.
"The Vatican has never understood like we do", Hogarth continued, "but they always had the resources we needed. Now, their ignorance will leave us, Romania... no, the whole world shall be led to a dark fate because of today. Your men, Captain, they are to be remembered as the first few of the many to come."
Captain Rain leveled a look at Hogarth.
"Yurik", he called, "any openings?"
"No, sir", Yurik, one of the few knights still clad in some armor called. "Their formation is as tight as a drum, and we have not the firepower to sufficiently beat it."
"I'll be the judge of that", Captain Rain told him. "Will you give up then, Hogarth of Romania? On your children, no less?"
"They are the only ones in this room who are safe", Hogarth said confidently. "He will not harm them."
"I have seen creatures like him disembowel babies for fun. Do you want that to happen to them?!"
"You aren't listening, Captain", Hogarth said. "I told you, he is different. You've been fighting fully-fledged monsters your whole life, but this is not a fully-fledged monster!"
The Captain paused for a moment.
"Are you insinuating", he began, "that Dracula is still at an infantile stage in his development?"
"He is fully developed", Hogarth said, "but he is not fully monster."
"When people like you think like this", the Captain began, but he was cut off.
"HEAR, YE", a booming voice called out.
The room quickly went silent, and everyone stopped what they were doing, grabbing cover as fast as they could.
"Knights of Romania", the voice continued, "and of the Vatican. You are surrounded, your armies crushed. Your stand is a noble attempt, and because of it, I shall grant you this one mercy; a warrior's death. Prepare yourselves."
As the speech ended, fog began to silently roll towards the sawmill. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, and it seemed to be materializing out of thin air, swirling around the ankles of the steel-clad not-men. Captain Rain checked his percussion cap revolver, making sure every cylinder was loaded, and went to join his men by the makeshift fortifications. Hogarth, Anna's father, turned to where his two children were hiding, making his way towards them.
He knelt down in front of the two of them. His one eye gazing softly at each of them in turn.
"I am so sorry", he told them. "I have failed you both as a father, for a father's burden is to make certain that his own burdens are not passed down to his children. You know of the curse that our family is under, young ones?"
Anna nodded. She could hear her brother's hair swishing beside her.
"This curse will now be up to the two of you to break. I would rather you two had a choice in this, but... the curse is on your heads as well. And I would rather die than see either of you go to Hell."
He drew in a long breath, and continued.
"I will not survive this battle. But as long as my soul lives, I love both of you with all of my heart. Always remember this when you think of me. Anna, take care of your younger brother, make sure he has someone to turn to in his times of need, and someone to turn him away from his obsessions. And Christopher, take care of your older sister, as we both know that she will work herself too hard. Make certain you are there to stop her when she is exhausted."
Anna could hardly believe what he was saying. She didn't want her father to die, not now, not ever. Beside her, she could hear her brother begin to silently sniff as tears undoubtedly welled up in his eyes. Hogarth swept both of them up into a hug, and planted a gentle kiss onto each of their heads.
"I love both of you, and always remember, the LORD is your Shepherd."
He hugged them again, pulling them tightly to him. But outside, the sound of a heavy metallic boot hitting the ground began sounding out, as if someone in armor was stomping slowly up to the sawmill. The sound caused him to freeze completely, and he slowly released his children.
He stood up, drawing the Valarious family sword from its sheath, and slowly backed up towards the group of knights. As the sounds of footfalls continued, Anna could see the knights tensing up. They were all tired, but they were all willing to go down fighting. They lifted their weapons, and slowed their breathing, preparing for action.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
"Can anyone pin that sound down?"
"Even if we could", Yurik pointed out, "the fog is so thick that we can't see through it. We would be wasting shots."
"We might just have to", Captain Rain told him, in a voice that sounded tired.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
Anna looked back over at the doorways to see if she could see what was making the noises, but all she could see was fog, which hovered in front of the doorways, and strangely, wouldn't come in. She glanced back at the knights, and she could see sweat dripping off of most of their faces. She couldn't see Yurik's face under his helmet, but she was certain that he was sweating, too.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
Christopher began sniffing again, and Anna squeezed his arm, hoping that would make him quiet. The less noise the two of them made, the less likely they were to draw those monsters' attention. He obediently quieted, but he squeezed her hand in return.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
And all was quiet.
The knights began swinging their eyes from opening to opening, trying to see their enemy. Their eyes tightened, as did their mouths, and the sweat came down in greater droves. On some of them, their hands shook.
"GLORY TO GOD", one of the knights cried out, and ran from his cover, towards an open doorway.
"No, stop", Hogarth called out, but it was too late.
The man disappeared into the fog.
And reappeared only seconds later, sliding in on his back, trailing blood on the ground behind him. A huge dent had been left in his chest, and he slid awkwardly to a stop at Captain Rain's feet. He didn't move, but his eyes were wide open, in surprise and shock.
Anna reached over to cover Christopher's eyes and mouth, and as she did so, she noticed that some fog had crept into the building from one of the windows. It appeared to be travelling upwards, towards the roof, but it quickly dissipated. She thought it was a little odd, and her eyes traveled up to the ceiling, following its trail.
Hanging from the ceiling by his feet was a pale man in black armor. He had a cloak wrapped around himself, which inexplicably defied gravity, covering him down to his ankles. His long black hair seemed to defy gravity as well, falling almost lazily at his shoulders. But his eyes, red as fire, watched the knights that were under him in the proper direction.
Anna wanted to cry out, but she remembered her father's words, and she realized that she had to stay quiet. The knights slowly began retreating from the doors, walking directly beneath the man in black armor, and tears began welling up in her eyes. She opened her mouth to call out, but now she found she couldn't say anything at all, her voice strangled by fear.
Slowly, the man in black lifted his left arm, revealing a sheathed sword under his cloak. He slowly lifted his hand to it, and pushed his thumb against the hilt. It clicked out of place, sliding out of the sheath towards the ground. The man in black fell after it, directly into the center of the group of knights.
Her father was the first to notice, and he wheeled around, striking at the man in black, but the man blocked the strike. The other knights began turning, and one of them fired his rifle. The man in black dodged so fast, that the bullet missed him, striking another knight in the forehead. Another knight wheeled around with his rifle, and the man in black grabbed it, twisting the barrel up and around so that the gun was useless.
Three more swords clattered against the man in black's, and he expertly deflected each strike, even swapping hands to do so. The men with guns began stepping back, and the man in black seemed to notice. He leaped backwards, twirling the sword around so that it pushed through the abdomen of one of the riflemen. The man twisted his whole body around, and launched the body of the rifleman through the air, into two other riflemen who were preparing to shoot.
Another rifleman close by thrust his bayonet forward. The man in black parried, throwing the bayonet harmlessly away, and then thrust forward, skewering the man's neck. He withdrew his sword, and twirled, decapitating the rifleman.
Two knights with swords attacked him, and he deflected their strikes, slicing one knight's leg off, and thrusting his sword underneath the armpit of the other. He jumped onto the knight he wounded earlier, driving his sword through his chest. Another swordsman rushed him, and as he swung, the man in black let go of his sword, and stepped out of the man's way. He grabbed the sword with his other hand, and pushed it into the man's ribcage, twirling violently to tear open the man's chest.
With the sword now in his other hand, he deflected more sword strikes, even a few from Anna's father, who suddenly stepped out of the way. Behind him, a rifleman fired his rifle, the shot aimed squarely at the man in black's head. The man in black swung his sword so quickly it was like a blur, and the bullet glanced off his sword, blasting through a swordsman who was preparing for a strike.
The knights, seemingly understanding that their enemy had a knowledge of guns that they couldn't defeat, began throwing away their rifles, and drawing their swords. It seemed as though this was what the man in black wanted to Anna, because she could just briefly catch a glimpse of a smirk on his face as the last rifle clattered to the ground.
The man in black turned, and ran for an exit.
"STOP HIM", Captain Rain shouted, "DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE!"
One of the closest knights, a Romanian, was able to easily keep up with him, all the way up until the man in black veered to the left and ran up the wall. He decapitated the knight from above with a single fell swoop, and stopped.
"You underestimate me", the man said, a smirk growing on his face, "Captain Rain."
This seemed to startle Rain, and it gave the man in black enough time to lunge off the wall and onto a knight, breaking his back, and ending up putting him in the center of the action again. Despite the fact that he only had one sword, he deflected all of their strikes with ease, stepping almost casually, and twirling his sword around himself in a shell-like shield of metal.
He began focusing on a certain group of three knights, and had his back turned to the remaining group of three. They all coordinated, bringing their swords down on his back. At first, Anna allowed herself to relish in the thought of them defeating this monster.
But the monster was prepared. He lifted his other hand, and made a fist, and from it came a long, black pole, extending out to either side. It almost didn't seem real, like it was a giant mirage, and it caught the three swords deftly. He threw the swords up with the pole, and then thrust both of his legs out behind him, smashing an armored knight straight in the chest, caving in his armor. Blood gushed out of his mouth as he flew back into the wall behind him, crashing through it, and stumbling out the other side, falling dead before the man's followers.
Still balancing on only his hands, the man in black swept his legs around, tripping the three knights he had been focusing on, and threw out his arm holding the black pole. It turned into a long whip-like tendril, and wrapped around the neck of one of the knights behind him. He yanked him into Yurik, making both of them fall over.
One of the knights in the first group of three recovered quickly, and the man in black lunged for him, grabbing him under the armpit and carrying him to the other side of the sawmill. The knights recovered in time to watch the man in black sink his teeth into the knight's neck. The knight screamed in pain as he was drained of his blood.
"MONSTER", Captain Rain yelled, as he ran after him.
The man in black smirked again, and threw the limp corpse at Captain Rain, knocking him to the ground. He lunged for the three remaining knights, spinning his sword around. He closed the distance on one knight, and sawed him in half with his spinning blade.
"GRAPPLE", Yurik called, throwing down his sword.
The man in black seemed to understand what he was implying, and sheathed his own sword. He locked his hands behind his back, around his cloak, revealing the extent of his armor, which hadn't even been scratched this entire time.
Anna was certain her father would change that.
Yurik seemed to be offended by this stance, and he lunged forward, throwing a fist towards the man in black's face. He dodged deftly, planting his knee into the knight's chest. Yurik stumbled back, apparently winded by the strike, but he quickly followed up with another blow from his left hand. Once again, the man in black dodged deftly, throwing a knee into Yurik's chest. Anna could see from the way Yurik turned that the man in black was putting dents in his chest plate. Yurik twirled, throwing a kick up at the man in blacks' head. The man in black ducked, and then countered, throwing a kick of his own at Yurik's helmet. Yurik's helmet twisted all the way around, his surprised eyes meeting Anna's, and Yurik fell over, dead.
"VLAD", Hogarth called.
The man in black seemed startled by this name. He stopped in his tracks, and turned towards Anna's father.
"Beloved Vlad", he continued, sheathing his sword, "how we, the Valarious, have missed you so! We were once great allies, oh so long ago, and we have not forgotten the kindness that you showed us in our war for survival. It pains every Valarious throughout time to see you like this. They wouldn't want this for you... I don't want this for you."
The man in black... Vlad... stared him down, his cloak blowing in the light breeze that had begun.
"So then", Vlad said, "what do you want for me?"
"I want you to be free of this curse on your flesh", Hogarth told him. "I want your soul to pass on to Heaven!"
Vlad stared at Hogarth, his gaze level. His cloak continued to flap in the breeze, snapping at his ankles. Slowly, he reached up to the clasps on his cloak, by the neck, and undid them, letting the cloak float to the ground.
The armor underneath was blackened, but it looked like it had been made that way. At various ends, the armor became wicked points, as if to ward off anyone who wished to embrace him. Vlad reached his hand down to his sword.
"Then come", Vlad told Hogarth, "and take this curse from me."
"I do so", Hogarth told him, as he reached for his own sword, "with a heart that is both heavy, and glad beyond comprehension! Today, Vlad, is a glorious day!"
"I am Vlad no more", the man in black told him. "Have you forgotten that my name is Dracula?"
"I'll free you of that cursed name", Anna's father yelled, as he brought his sword down on Dracula.
The fight that ensued was an example of fine swordsmanship. Each swordsman twirled and danced around the other as if improvising some grand ballet. They each kept themselves protected, and each lashed out at one another with equal measure. However, it wasn't but a few minutes in that one of the men began to tire.
Hogarth began slowing down, just enough for Dracula to get a firm push in. As Hogarth stumbled away, Dracula's blade seemed to quiver and shake with a strange darkness to it, almost as if it were a blackened and burnt mirage.
Hogarth charged again, and Dracula jumped over him, and landed behind him, bringing his sword down into the area where the neck connects to the left shoulder. Hogarth stumbled, and Dracula released his grip on his sword, stepping back. Hogarth dropped down to his knees.
Anna could swear that she wasn't seeing what her eyes were telling her. Her father wore chainmail patches over gambeson under all of the exposed spots of his armor. Everyone knew, and Anna was personally witness to the fact, that swords simply couldn't pierce plate or mail armor, and usually had trouble with gambeson. If this sword had just cut through mail and gambeson, much less plate and gambeson, then it was unstoppable and undefeatable.
And, she realized with a start, her father had just been killed.
Dracula walked around to Hogarth's front, and pulled his sword from the man's shoulder, the blade followed closely by a geyser of blood.
"You are a worthy adversary, Hogarth Valarious", Dracula told him. "You move forward with the teachings of your family, both in faith and sword. For this reason, I will give you a quick death."
"But will it set you free, my friend", Hogarth asked, in a surprisingly calm voice, as blood squirted out of his wound. "With my last breath, I shall bring you peace."
Hogarth flung his sword out, throwing all of his strength behind it. Dracula deflected, and spun, cleaving Hogarth's head from his shoulders. His neck gushed blood as his body fell limply to the ground.
Her brother squeaked.
It briefly caught the attention of Dracula, making him turn his head slightly in the childrens' direction.
A pistol crack brought his attention back to Captain Rain. The man had finally stood up, and was stumbling towards Dracula, with blood dripping down the side of his face, and hatred in his eyes, thumbing down the hammer on his percussion cap revolver, and firing it at Dracula. The small balls sparked off of his armor as he lunged for the Captain.
Just as the Captain had the hammer thumbed down again, Dracula grabbed the body of the pistol and twisted to the outside of his body, forcing his finger against the trigger, and causing the revolver to discharge harmlessly into the ground. Dracula cruelly ripped the gun from the man's hand so fast that it seemed a blur. It happened so fast that Anna almost didn't notice how the man's skin had caught in the trigger guard, and had been ripped free of his finger, like a glove being removed, leaving behind white and red meat, and the barest hint of bone.
The Captain howled in pain as the bunched-up skin smacked against the ground, with blood dripping after it. Dracula cocked the hammer on the pistol, and put a shot through the man's leg. He howled again, and knelt to the ground.
"Captain Rain", Dracula told him, as the Captain clutched his wounded hand. "You have not shown me a tenth of the courage that your men have. I expected more from an Englishman, drafted by the Vatican though you are."
"The Vatican has nothing to do with this", the Captain admitted, looking up at Dracula with a grin. "They stopped sending support years ago, and then, suddenly, decided to aid Romania in a final, desperate effort against you? Good God, man, use your head!"
"Then who are you?"
"I'm still Captain Rain", he told him with that same grin. "You murdered my uncle. Me and my boys want revenge."
"Boys", Dracula asked, narrowing his eyes.
Suddenly, explosions sounded outside of the sawmill, and one of the walls was busted down. Moments later, a slew of men came charging in, the last visage of the sun dipping beneath the earth behind them. Dracula paused, and Anna got a good look at their weapons; lever-action rifles, revolving rifles, more percussion cap pistols, one man holding two of them, large brass cylinders that were propped up on men's shoulders, and one man even carried a hand-held and heavily modified Puckle Repeating Gun.
The two parties stared at each other, both quite stunned. Dracula stared down man, his eyes narrow, and man stared down Dracula, his eyes wide.
Captain Rain reached slowly towards the ground, gripping a small mound of sawdust in his hands. He threw it into Dracula's face, briefly blinding him. Captain Rain jumped out of the way, and then the humans unleashed hell on Dracula.
Every gun fired, deafening Anna's ears. The actions worked hard to keep up with how quickly the men were trying to fire. Bullets ricocheted off of Dracula's armor, sparking against the black metal as they did so. Anna had never seen steel armor that was able to block bullets like that. It was either thicker than it looked, or it was enchanted somehow.
The one with the Puckle Gun, the thing modified into a percussion cap handheld machine-cannon, turned the handle, and the gun boomed. The first shot barely missed Dracula, who was being jerked around by all of the bullets hitting him. The handle turned again, and the gun boomed once more. The second shot hit him squarely in the chest, launching him across the sawmill. He clattered to the ground, a limp heap, but the men didn't stop firing. Dracula's head was split open by dozens of bullets, spilling its contents like a rotten melon.
The last visage of the sun disappeared behind the men.
Instantly, the room darkened, and Dracula stood up, his wounds closing so fast it was hard to imagine what they had been like before they had healed. He opened his palms upward, and lifted up his hands, and the entire group of men were impaled by dark energy. Dracula lowered his hands, and the men all fell to the ground, pools of blood growing around them.
Dracula returned to Captain Rain, who had picked his revolver up off of the ground with his left hand, and began firing wildly at Dracula. Dracula deflected one of the balls with the palm of his hand, and it implanted itself into Captain Rain's gut. Captain Rain doubled over, and Dracula lunged, grabbing him up by his neck. He sunk his teeth in, and the Captain quickly became a withered husk of a man.
Dracula let him fall to the ground, just as more armored men, their eyes glowing red, stormed into the building. A short, black-haired woman shoved in past them, with what appeared to be a dagger in her hand, though it was wavering in the same mirage-like state that Anna had seen earlier.
"Master, Master", the woman yelled, vying for a glimpse of Dracula.
"Yes, Yasya", Dracula called to her.
"Make way", she shouted at the men, and they instantly stopped in their tracks and parted.
She barreled through them to Dracula's feet, and instantly bowed there in the most humiliating of fashions, with her knees and elbows alike on the dirt.
"Forgive me, my lord", she said in a voice that sounded very emotional. "They were upwind of us. They took us completely by surprise."
"They were professionals", Dracula dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You are forgiven."
She knelt at his feet, her head still bowed, and said, "Their armies have been defeated. Romania's rebellion and the Vatican's interference are no more."
"Then we can focus on building this army", Dracula told her. "But in order to do so..."
He turned, and walked over to Hogarth's decapitated body, reaching down to pick up father's sword.
"NO", Christopher screamed.
Dracula turned towards the pile, reaching for his sword. The woman, Vasya, produced another dagger, seemingly from thin air. The men all turned towards the pile, raising their rifles and pulling their swords.
Anna sprinted out from behind the woodpile, running towards where her father lay. She scraped the sword from off the ground, barely getting the tip airborne. She pointed it at Dracula, and his face donned a look of shock. His hand stopped moving for his sword.
"Get away from him", Anna shouted. "I'll fight you if I must!"
Behind her, she could hear a pistol cocking. Christopher had picked up Captain Rain's gun. She didn't know if it even had shots in it. Christopher was better with numbers than her; he probably knew.
Dracula still wore that look on his face, that one of shock, and now, he took a step back, as it transitioned to a look of horror. As if a realization that had never occurred to him suddenly became his reality.
The lady behind him charged, yelling, "I'll dispose of the rodents, my lord!"
He threw an arm out, hitting her chest lightly, and stopping her in her tracks. Unlike when he had hit the knights, the strike didn't dent her armor. She stopped immediately, a blush rising up her face.
For what seemed like minutes, the whole congregation stood like that, neither side advancing on the other. Anna was beginning to sweat from the exertion of holding up the large sword, dripping to the ground with little splashes. She had no doubt that her younger brother Christopher was beginning to feel his muscles burn.
"No" Dracula finally said. "This is my burden, and I must carry it."
"You mean it is our burden", one of the armored men shouted. "We have followed you for hundreds of years, and every time it is within your grasp to destroy the Valarious line, you hesitate! And when you hesitate, they destroy our army! And then we have to start all over again! I'm sick of it!"
The armored man stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Anna. He reached down to his sword, and began to draw. Suddenly, one of the daggers that the woman had been holding, the ones that seemed like mirages, impaled his neck. He toppled over, choking.
"Insolent, insubordinate creature", the woman, Vasya, yelled at him. "If you cannot respect your lord's wishes, you do not deserve to fight in his army!"
As the man writhed on the ground, Anna shifted her gaze back to Dracula. His own gaze had softened, into one that suggested he was sorry about the outcome of the day. He gazed down at Anna with that look, saying nothing.
"We have won the day", he finally said. He turned to Vasya, saying, "Inform our forces that we are to prepare for a trek into Turkey. We need fodder for our next conquest."
"Of course, my lord."
A raised hand from the woman, and the armored men retreated slowly, never turning their backs to the children, continuously keeping their weapons trained on them. When they cleared out, the woman turned around and walked out after them. Dracula was the last to leave, his turn hesitant.
He began slowly walking to the large hole in the wall, his feet making careful, heavy steps all the while. When he was close enough to the hole to put his hands on the wood, he turned around, sparing on final glance at Anna.
Memories flooded in, then, memories of a handsome man with brown hair and a small beard. The first of them were of him looking off into the distance, but the ones that came after were of him looking at her, talking with her, laughing with her, dancing with her, and of a single kiss on the embattlements of a castle. Of him pushing her away, gently, and telling her "no". Of him leaving. Of him not coming back.
Seras let go, and grasped at her own hand.
"That's", she began, unsure of how to finish, "terrible."
"Seras", Anna began, but she was interrupted by a shadow looming over the intrepid Police Girl.
"How much longer", Alucard asked.
Anna scowled.
"We're almost there, impatient creature."
"Poggers", he said in a voice that didn't sound convincing. "Gotta make a phone call real quick."
He reached into his jacket, and fished around. After a moment of fishing, he frowned, and removed his hand. He began patting down all of his other pockets.
"That's weird", he said. "I must have dropped my phone."
He turned to the Mercs, shouting, "Hey, retards! I just dropped my phone on the ground, bend over and look for it for me!"
He turned back to Seras, and grinned, saying, "You should get in on this, too!"
"Fuck's sake", Seras cursed under her breath, as she got up, and started looking under chairs.
"Hey, wait, I hear it buzzing, everyone shut the fuck up", Alucard shouted.
Out of the corner of her eye, Seras saw Anna reach into her pocket.
"Odd", Alucard said out loud. "It stopped really quickly. Must've been a telemarketer. Whenever they call my number, they get all scared and hang up early."
"I think it was coming from the front of the car", Anna told him, pointing to where the Mercs were still bumming around.
"You're right", Alucard said absentmindedly. "And those assholes up there sure do want to get fired. I think I'll go use my powers of persuasion to put a little pep in their step before they get peppered to death."
Alucard strode up to the front, and Seras followed, sparing a glance back at Anna as she went. As soon as she thought they might be out of earshot, Anna lifted Alucard's phone to her face, listening to the line. The Helsing girl was screeching at the other end.
"Alucard, listen! I've made a terrible mistake! I opened up Abraham's sealed letter, the one concerning the identity of the third party... Alucard, it's a t-"
Anna crushed the phone in her hand, set it gently on the floor, and kicked the shattered remains back over to where Alucard's seat had been.
She gently touched her father's sword, whispering, "Tonight, my family... everything changes."
...
Schrodinger had selected a nice perch. It had views of every angle of the warehouse, and, if need be, an open window nearby for him to slip into. He produced the handheld video camera, and opened up the screen on the side. The train slowed to a stop a mere fifty meters from the warehouse, and the occupants all piled out.
Schrodinger's finger hovered over the record, and as the last occupant exited, he said to himself, "And here... we... go!"
Author's Notes:
I apologize that it took me as long as it did to get this out. Life has been crazy as of late, and I've been quite lazy to date. For the time being, I probably won't be able to get stuff out on time. Expect one to three weeks per chapter.
On top of that, I've already begun production on new material. If you're interested, it'll drop sometime when I remember to upload. More on that note, I've got a continuation series in mind for after WWIII, and I've already got a head start on it. I won't post any of it until after I get all of this done.
Speaking of apologies, I recently learned that the .454 Casull is a real round, although the optics of trying to make an automatic handgun that would use it are insane. Alucard's hand would have to be as big as a dinner plate just to fit around the grip, and if you think the barrel's absurdly long in the anime, it would have to be about a half foot longer than THAT to seriously negate the recoil. I'll concede defeat, and make the necessary changes to all of the chapters, though that'll take a while.
Please, please PLEASE give me feedback about the story so far. I need to read the audience if I'm gonna know just how much longer this story will be.