Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Van Helsing or any of it's characters; the only thing I own closely related to the movie are my ticket stubs from the theatre, hahaha.

Author's Note: Yay! Reviews! Thank you muchly to the morrigan three, Caryn de Lioncourt (think you can send those vamp minions after me anyways? ;-p), and once again to Liber Creperum-Liber Diabolus. This chapter is dedicated to you all, and, I should mention this (as I forgot it in the second chapter), chapter two is dedicated to the four who reviewed the first chapter. And a very good point was brought up by the morrigan three - my chapters are short. I'll try to make them longer (I have problems with that), but I write them as a typing warm-up in typing class so they're usually hurried. The ones I write at home I'll try to make them a bit longer. Anyways, onward!

Chapter Three:

It was late and Carl set down the final book. He had found nothing new, and he scanned every detail as carefully as possible. He felt like telling Van Helsing this, but Carl had heard him go into his room for sleep. Sighing, he stood up and walked around, looking for more clues.

Not even five minutes after, he stopped in front of the map that hid the entrance to Dracula's lair. 'Perhaps,' Carl thought to himself, 'I'll find something of use in there.'

Brushing off all knowledge of the stupidity of the idea, Carl opened the door and walked through. Snow flew around like maddened spirits in the cold night and Carl put on his hood. He walked carefully, so he wouldn't slip, and soon found himself inside the castle. The one place he did not want to see ever again his life.

He turned to leave but stopped. Why go back? He had come this far, and he didn't want to go back without some sort of new information. Besides, he was a good runner. Now he looked around. All he had to do was go down a few halls, check out a few rooms - nothing big.

As he walked along, the shuffling of his feet echoed hauntingly off the walls. A chill ran down his spine and he shifted his eyes around. Was someone watching him? Feeling spooked to the Heavens, his pace quickened. Check out a few things and get out. Quickly. It turns out, quickly wasn't quick at all.

Within ten minutes, our Carl was lost. He had forgotten to keep track of which hall he went down, and which way he turned. Now he had ended up in a large room, most like used for entertaining or meals. He stood in the center of it.

"Oh my," he said out loud to no one but himself (well, maybe the walls), "this isn't good. This isn't good at all."

"No, my dear friar, it really isn't." A bone chilling voice filled the room and the source could not be pinpointed. Yes, Carl knew who the voice was coming from, but where, exactly, he could not tell.

Feeling his heartbeat quicken, he tried to keep his cool. His eyes shifted for any indication of Dracula's location. Sweat started to form on his forehead. If Van Helsing found out that Carl put himself in this danger, then there'd be Hell to pay. He gulped.

"Well then, Mr. Dracula ... Sir," he said with a nervous laugh. "I'll just go then. Wouldn't want to bother you." He checked his hood to make sure it was still on. He began walking towards what he hoped was the way out.

"Running isn't an option." In a blink, Dracula was standing in front of Carl, smirking down at him. "Now pay close attention." He circled the friar slowly, menacingly. "You're going to be of some use to me, my good man. Gabriel would go to any lengths to help a friend." He now walked towards Carl and pulled off his hood. "And, I imagine, he'd want to get you out the deeper you were in."

With a twisted smile, he drew Carl towards him and began leading him, in a friendly manner, towards the exit. "However, I won't press on details tonight. It's late, and I want to have all your attention when the time comes." He stood Carl before the door. "This means I'll be expecting you shortly, my dear Friar."

With another cruel smirk, Dracula pulled Carl towards him again and placed a kiss upon his lips. Before Carl had time to object, he had been pushed through the door.

In his bed, Van Helsing sat up with a start. A noise had caught his attention and every part of his body was alert. He relaxed, though, when he realized that it was just Carl going to bed. He had to hand it to his friend, he may not be much for the fight, but he's always ready to help. With a ghost of smile on his face, Van Helsing returned to his sleep.