Van Helsing: Resurrection
By Yami no Ryu
Rated: PG-13
Summary: It's two months after the defeat of Dracula. Van Helsing is
called on to stop a necromancer. Joining him are two very unlikely
allies: Daemon and Trin Winfell, American demon hunters. But they hide
secrets, and Helsing's past is restless…
Author's Note: Gabriel Van
Helsing will be called the afore mentioned, Van Helsing, Helsing, or
Gabriel. Just to clear up any confusion.
Author's Note 2: This
chapter takes place a little while after the first. Van Helsing is
already in London and has been there for a day or so.
===
CHAPTER 2: Remembering
The moon was full; Gabriel Van Helsing avoided looking at it. It
brought back memories he wished he could forget, yet was unwilling to.
They were his only lifeline, as painful as they were. His only
past.
There were flashes, sometimes, of
things before the last two and half years; things that he couldn't
possibly have witnessed. Things that happened hundreds of years ago.
And tonight was a night of remembrance; the moon's
light beat down on his back, and though he tried to ignore it, he could
not.
He remembered the all-encompassing hunger
of the Wolf; the screech of Dracula's wives; the cold of the
mirror-gate as he passed through; the pain of being called "murderer";
the torture of being hailed "hero". He remembered Dracula's face, when
they first met. He heard Anna's angry voice when he told her he had to
kill her brother. And then a flash of something new.
Blood soaking his clothes; his horse's matted fur
stained crimson. The life-giving substance dripping off his blade. All
around him, dead and dying, with those of the living tending to the
wounded. There had been a great battle. His horse stumbled, whinnied
and fell. He jumped aside, saying a prayer for the faithful creature,
and moved on.
Then the vision was gone, replaced
by something much more recent. The jab of something slick and thin,
sliding into his flesh. The burn of fire spreading throughout his
veins. The sound of breaking bones…and then clarity...and her.
Her lifeless eyes looking over to the side, as if not willing to
condemn him for his crime. The friar behind him, a silver stake held
tightly. He turned to the blonde, his eyes sorrowful. He had killed
her; the friar gasped as he understood. With a yank he pulled out the
needle, and he turned to her, and he howled. Howled with all the
anguish and sorrow he had. He had killed her. And the unspoken
accusation rang in his ears: murderer.
The knock startled him. He had his tojo blades out and spinning before
it registered; and he smiled self-deprecatingly. So used to baddies jumping out at you from the darkest corners of your mind, now they are real, Van Helsing?
he thought. He turned the whirring blades off and slipped them up his
sleeves before taking out a pistol and walking silently to the door. He
wondered, not for the first time, why he had rented a room at the dingy
bed-and-breakfast. Then he remembered: today the moon was full and
bright, and he didn't want to be outside. He didn't know what he would
do if someone startled him. Better to have privacy.
He opened the door a bit, pistol cocked and ready to fire. "Who's there?"
"Van Helsing? Oh, good, I found you!"
Helsing blinked. "Carl?"
"Let me in, Van Helsing," Carl said. "It's cold out here!"
Gabriel opened the door so the friar could come in.
"It's not much warmer in here." He slipped the pistol into its holster
before Carl could catch it out.
"You let the fire go out!" Carl yelled in dismay. Helsing rolled his eyes.
" 'Use your head', my ass," he muttered, then struck
a match against the stones and threw it over Carl's head into the
fireplace.
"Oh, thank you," the blonde friar
said, then began the tedious task of cajoling the fire back to life.
"What were you doing in the first place, that you let it go out?"
"Thinking," Helsing whispered. "Why'd you come all the way out here?"
"They wanted me to tell you that you are now
assigned to work with two American agents. And you stormed out in such
a rush I couldn't give you the rest of your weapons," Carl said, poking
some kindling into the growing flame. He didn't have to explain who
"they" were. While he coaxed the flame larger, Van Helsing sat
down and looked through the bag the Carl had been carrying. There were
two more boxes, though they were wood, not iron. He opened one to see
glass bullets, but with clear liquid instead of fire-water. He
suspected it was holy water. The second case contained four palm-sized
glass balls with more holy water.
"How do I know
which Americans to work with?" Helsing asked, adding the holy water
bullets and "bombs" to his arsenal.
"They didn't say precisely. Only that you'd know."
"And you say they don't want me killed," Van Helsing
said in amusement. Carl turned around to retort, but when he saw
Gabriel was only joking, he turned back to the fire.
"A couple logs should do it," Carl said a little
while later. He moved them into place, poking and shoving, before
turning to Van Helsing. "Van Helsing? Are you awake?"
Gabriel blinked, cursing himself for spacing out. "Yes, Carl, I'm awake."
The friar sat down next to Helsing. "Thinking?"
"No, spacing," the latter answered bitterly. If it were anyone but Carl, that could have gotten me killed! Then he reconsidered. If it were anyone but Carl, I wouldn't have spaced out in the first place.
"Well, that's better than broo--thinking," Carl said cheerily.
"Yes, Carl, it is better than brooding," Helsing said patronizingly. Carl flushed slightly.
"Well, you brood more than you think," he said defensively.
"Are you implying that I don't think?" the demon hunter asked, eyebrow raised.
"No, I--yes, I am."
Van Helsing smirked. "Well, if we're on the topic of shortcomings, you should exercise more."
"Are you saying that I'm fat?"
"No, I--yes, I am," Gabriel teased, mimicking Carl.
"Well, I'm not a field-man. I have to reason to stay in shape," Carl said indignantly.
"You've worked in the "field" an awful lot for not being a "field-man"," Helsing replied.
"Oh, come off it."
"Now, Carl--"
Whatever Gabriel Van Helsing would have said was lost when the famous Big Ben began to toll. Bong!
Helsing froze.
Bong!
He flinched, ever so slightly.
Bong!
Remembered Dracula.
Bong!
The Wolf's senseless madness battering his will.
Bong!
Anna's lifeless body.
Bong!
Dracula's ultimate form.
Bong!
Ripping open the vampire's throat.
Bong!
The sharpness of the needle.
Bong!
Anna's silver cross.
Bong!
Transforming into the Wolf.
Bong!
Slashing Dracula's wings.
Bong!
The pain of knowing he killed her…
Helsing sat stiff, waiting for the next toll. It
never came. Big Ben fell silent, but Gabriel stayed tense. Muscles
clenched, tendons tight, heart thundering, mind going in circles aroundandaroundandaround…
Then Carl's voice broke the stillness: "Van Helsing? Gabriel, are you alright?"
He shook himself mentally, relaxing physically. "Yes, Carl. I'm fine."
How could he say he was not?