Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Van Helsing. I just like to write stories.

Author's Note: Well. Here we go. The last chapter of my Carl/Dracula story. A BIG thank you to everyone who reviewed. If it weren't for all of you encouraging me to continue this story, it'd be sitting there at chapter 5 incomplete. Also, you've all made this my most popular fanfiction yet. My love and hugs go out to each and everyone one of you!

Chapter Seven:

Dracula's head shot up, breaking off the kiss with Carl. Something had reached his ears. Van Helsing was somewhere in the castle, not too far. So was the werewolf.

Carl looked up at the vampire and could detect worry. He sniffed.

"They're here?" Carl did not have to expect an answer, for he knew what it was. He had to find someway to help ... Something to do. "You've got to flee. It's the only way you can survive ... You have to."

"Carl!" Dracula snapped at him. The tone made the friar flinch back, and the count relaxed. "Do not worry about me. I have lived long, and seen more than most can imagine. I've cheated death too many times. It's time I faced it. Not even the Devil can help me now."

And before Carl could respond, something made both their heads turn. Not even ten feet away from them stood a werewolf on its hind legs. He stood almost seven feet tall, and his eyes were large and black. His fur was thick and chestnut brown. His mouth was open, baring two rows of sharp pointed teeth. His paws were ready to strike. His claws glistened in the light of the moon. As he walked forward, Carl walked backwards. Carl tripped on his robe and fell to the ground. Van Helsing pulled him up.

"Do not try to help, Carl," Van Helsing whispered to him. "He is the devil in disguise, and the people he murdered need to be justified." His eyes were fixed on the werewolf advancing on the Vampire.

"The people he murdered ..." Carl's voice was unnaturally bitter. "The only death you wish to justify is Anna's!" His voice was raised and broken. "Because you cannot have happiness with the one you love, does not mean you must take that happiness way from others!"

"He does not love you, Carl!" Although Van Helsing's voice was loud, neither Dracula nor the werewolf turned to look. "He is not capable of loving! You should not waste your time on such fantasies." His eyes could've burned a hole through Carl.

It was at that moment that Carl realized that Van Helsing knew about how he felt for the vampire. His cheeks flushed, and his heart pounded as he thought about what his friend thought about it and how God would judge him now. But Carl could not respond. His own eyes were transfixed upon the scene playing before them. The werewolf slashed at the vampire's shoulder, causing a pained grunt to emit from him. In return, the vampire lashed at his opponent. Soon the two creatures were engaged in a fight, one which the vampire was losing.

"Go for his heart," Van Helsing ordered the werewolf.

As the wolf raised his paw to finish with the Count, Dracula hastily got away from him. Unfortunately, the attempt to regain his composure did not last long. The werewolf pinned Dracula against a cold, stone wall. The two locked gazes with each other and stared each other down. Dracula did not have to say what he was thinking, for the invitation to finish him off was written on his face. And, as the moonlight shone fully into the room causing the scene to unnaturally glow, the wolf struck.

Dracula felt the sharp claws tear into his skin. He felt a searing pain through out his body. As accustomed to pain as he was, this was beyond any pain the vampire had ever felt. It tore his insides; it stretched his skin. He cried out in pain and the werewolf stepped back. Over his final cries, the last thing he heard was Carl shouting angrily at Van Helsing through a teary voice. The last thing he saw was the full moon. Then he was gone.

"Come now, Carl," Van Helsing said softly. "No one mourns the wicked." He whistled, and the werewolf walked over. Silently, they returned to the village.

It had been a month since Dracula had finally been destroyed. Carl had been distant towards everyone once he and Van Helsing returned to Rome. He was sitting alone in his room, as he had done every night once his daily routine was over. He contemplated things as he sat there, with nothing to do but stare out into the night sky. That night, he was contemplating the value of a life without love, and Van Helsing's words, "No one mourns the wicked."

Angrily, tears filled the friar's eyes. They ran down his cheeks in a passionate rage as he wrote quickly on a piece of parchment that he attached to the outside of his door so someone would find it. The note read:

"To my dear friend, Van Helsing,

The door is unlocked. Feel free to come inside and pay your respects to me. You told me, not so long ago, that no one mourns the wicked. My dear friend ... You were mistaken. For one month know I've been mourning what was wicked. And now, my mourning is at last over. I go to meet my fate in purgatory.

My deepest regards,

Carl."

Van Helsing barged into the room of his friend Carl once the note was delivered to him. In cold shock, he stood transfixed. He knew that the image of the friar hanging from his ceiling cold and still would haunt his nightmares until the day he died, and then on to eternity.

Author's Note: So endeth my first (and hopefully not last) Van Helsing slash. I'm sorry to anyone who expected a far happier ending, but to such a story I didn't see any happy ending in sight. But, in a way, isn't Carl happy now? Hmm ... That will be up to you to decide. Thank you once again and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I have!