╔╪Van Helsing 2 :: Shades of Gray╪╗
by: Ayame
╓Chapter Three╖
┌Assignments of Distraction┐
The Italian outdoor conservatories more commonly known as the Vatican Gardens that they moved through beneath the warm sunlight were a gracious change to that of when they had first entered Rome and took in the hub-bub of the masses going about their daily and altruistically mundane tasks. The state of Vatican City, home to much of Rome's collection of art and architecture, was an immensely beautiful area, housing gardens, museums, and basilicas of undeniable history. One of the most important states of the known world, the Vatican had powerful influence over other countries, as well as Roman Catholics. As he moved swiftly from one garden to the next, heading toward his destination, which rested atop the Vatican Hill, Van Helsing had figured that that was the solitary reason why the Knights of the Holy Order had chosen to operate here.
"By the way, Carl. I had meant to thank you earlier, before we left Scotland. If you hadn't fired that shot and distracted the dog, I don't think I would have been so lucky as to use that latest invention of yours on it. I hadn't realized you were such a marksman." Stepping into a world that lacked the hustle and bustle of the marketplaces beyond the walls surrounding the City, almost as immediately as they had crossed into the encircling colonnade of the Piazza San Pietro, Carl and Gabriel made their way toward the sanctuary. As they climbed the steps of St. Peter's of Rome, they took in the bearing masonry of the Italian Renaissance structure. By far, the most immense and captivating thing about the cathedral – aside from its complimenting peristyle – was the elaborate dome at the top, and the flying buttresses that added to it.
Nearing the topmost platform which would lead to the entrance of the sanctuary, Van Helsing was surprised at how, no matter how many times he saw it, the Square and Cathedral of St. Peter was always able to take his breath away by the intricate beauty of the establishment. Although the British Isles had some marvelous land sights, he was glad to be away from foreign shores, but not too excited about the next mission that they might be sent on… well, Van Helsing was positive that Carl wasn't too excited. He had found that he had come to rely heavily on Carl's companionship as the years had passed, finding that there were perks to not working alone. For one thing, his clean-up of the vices that plagued the known world had not been as flamboyant as before, and even though there were still wanted posters out for him, the number in which they had come had dwindled. Of course, that could also have been because he was being sent on less and less operations in which the foe he hunted had a human form to go back to upon death and expose to the public. Having Carl to travel with, listening to his entertaining, if not offbeat, sense of humor also kept Gabriel from thinking about the more unpleasant side of his wanderings. Letting his dark eyes fall on the shorter man, he gave a seldom seen grin. When he had first dragged Carl with him on his undertaking to Transylvania three years ago, he had done so because he felt Carl's inventiveness would come in handy. He hadn't expected that the death of Anna would have bound their fate into being good friends, rather than just inventor and hunter, exchanging words on weapons. At the thought of Anna, his grin began to fade, and it vanished completely when Carl spoke.
"But… I didn't shoot at anything…" They had stopped at the top of the stairs, just in front of the entrance of the Cathedral. The sun beat down upon them, relentlessly, and bathed the area in a glow of bistre haze, which gave the vicinity a surrealistic feel. At the base of the steps, common folk went about their business, leaving St. Peter's and moving toward the marketplaces or the housing districts, taking little notice of the friar in rumpled robes, and the demon hunter in his dark garb. Van Helsing was well known throughout the cities of Europe, but if any of those passing through Vatican City recognized him for being the infamous 'murderer' that he was, they gave no signs of it. Now, standing in the sunlight before the a holy church of God, Gabriel Van Helsing raised his head only slightly, removing his wide-brimmed hat from his tousled hair, raised his eyebrows and studied Carl carefully.
"What do you mean?" his voice was evenly measured.
"I don't like guns." The friar said simply. He brought a hand up to his unruly hair and scratched the top of his head, rather annoyed at the fact that he didn't get all of the aftermath from their encounter with the black dog out of his appearance in his quick stop to try and make himself presentable before returning to Rome. He was carrying a pack, which was slung over his shoulder, making his appearance of a traveling friar only more complete. "Guns are too messy, as we witnessed earlier. I'm much better with unstable chemicals." He continued with a grin. Gabriel let his gaze wander away from his friend and drift to the scatter of people who were coming and going in front of the church. That feeling of unease that he had sensed after the demolition of the black dog wasn't just a false alarm, then.
"Well, either way that you look at it, Carl, it was actually your unstable chemicals that made the mess." Though he had cracked a joke, he didn't smile, as his thoughts were elsewhere. "Someone fired a gun, which distracted the dog. And that someone was an excellent marksman… If it wasn't you, who was it?" Feeling a tenseness fall over his shoulders, he rolled them, one at a time before looking toward the doorway of the cathedral. Carl seemed baffled by his question, but had no answers for him. On the deserted road out in the fields of Scotland, the fog had cleared to show that no one had been nearby. There were no obstructions that anyone could have hidden behind. Donning a look of concentration, he entered the quiet Cathedral halls, with Carl following behind him. It was something that he'd have to think on, but not at the moment. He looked to Carl and said, "So, what was it exactly, that I used to kill that dog. I thought they were indestructible." Carl grinned.
"Well, they're said to be, since you can't touch them. But the black dogs of the British Isles actually have different traits, and it is said that they have different weaknesses. But you didn't really kill it…" he frowned for a moment. "Though the messy explosion would beg to differ… Anyways, the bullets in that gun had an effect which would imbalance the ley line that the dog was connected to. That's what the light sparks were when you shot at it. When the ley line was disrupted, the dog had to leave this plane of existence. Uh, that's their connection to this world: the ley line."
Gabriel chuckled. "Yes, Carl, I know." Despite the vast halls, vaulted ceilings, and elaborate space in which the Catholic statues of saintly figures had been placed, their voices did not carry too far, leaving their conversation more or less private. It didn't take long to reach the confessional booths.
"Right. I really didn't see the point of going after a black dog, though. There have been many sightings of them, and not only that, people have said that there are a select few dogs that look extremely different from the others, obviously being leader-like creatures. In Yorkire, there's Barghest. Lancashire is the home of Skriker, but he's more commonly known the Howler. Muckle Black Tyke roams the roads of Scotland, but I don't think that's who we ran into. Mauthe Dog has been seen in the Isle of Man, and in Wales, there's Gwyllgi, the dog of darkness. I did some studying of the subject when the Order assigned you to this task. They're really quite fascinating… Van Helsing?" Carl's voice trailed off from the animated tone that had consumed it as he looked around, only to realize that he stood alone. He had stopped to study a statue of the Virgin Mother, while still talking to Van Helsing, who had apparently disappeared into one of the confessionals. It appeared to onlookers, much to Carl's dismay, that he was speaking and making gestures to the statue, rather than anyone else, since Gabriel had taken the liberty to leave without notification. "…Oh."
"You left me out there talking to myself! I looked like a madman!" moving from the stairway into the work area of the underground catacombs built beneath the city, Carl spotted Van Helsing almost immediately. He was leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, head bowed, amused smile on his lips as he glanced up.
"I won't tell if you won't." Carl let the bag he was carrying drop from his shoulders and plunk to the ground as Cardinal Jinnette approached, stopping the friar from any retort he might have started to make. With a small grimace, he picked up the bag again, nodded to the demon hunter, and moved into the fray of workers, inventors, smiths, and the like.
The look of regalement that had touched his features had been drawn into something of quiet seriousness, as it always did when facing the Cardinal and what seemed to be his never-ending succession of burdens. Burdens… Was that how he had come to think of his job? At times, burden was really the perfect word to describe how he felt. He could get pretty tired of being the most wanted man in every capital of Europe, save Rome, or of having people avert their eyes from him when they saw him coming and knew who he was. He had never admitted it to anyone else, but he ached to the look in the eyes of people that he'd encountered. The look that called him a monster, rather than the creature that may have been attacking them. It was true that there were people out there who thought of him as a holy man, doing God's work to rid the world of evil, just as it was true that there were those who thought him to be an executioner.
For the duration of his time of being a hunter of the unholy, he had successfully turned his back on both titles, doing all that he had been decreed to do by the Order, only becoming annoyed when Cardinal Jinnette had to reprimand him for his style of taking out enemies. He had successfully ignored being called a holy man simply because he felt there was nothing holy… nothing ordained by what he did. He had ignored the comments of being a murderer, though that was a bit more difficult since he saw the men and women as they breathed their final breaths as the persons that they had once been. He had effectively overlooked everything said… until the death of a certain young woman three years ago. Now, more often than naught, every fight that he was in, whether it was he who started or finished it, seemed like a burden. Every order he took seemed like a burden. In times when he could spend too much time reflecting on the past… life seemed like a burden.
But, at the same time that his work was a burden, it was a blessing as well. It kept his mind preoccupied, unable to drift to memories that were not pleasant. It kept him from being able to reflect on his encounter with the late Vladislaus Dracula, and his apparent past encounters with the vampire. But he was thinking about it now. How many times before that had he really gone at arms with Dracula? Had it only been once, centuries ago? Centuries… How could it possibly have been centuries? When Van Helsing's mind wandered to thoughts like these, the nightmares he had during the midnight hours became near unbearable. So he tried his best not to think about it. Not to think about his mission, three years ago: the mission that indeed proved that he was a murderer. Anna…
He had been following the cardinal in light of his thoughts, moving deeper into the underground catacombs that had been kept secret from everyday society so that the Holy Order might do its work in peace and without probing questions. They had come into one of the many work rooms where vicars, priests, clerics, monks, and friars did their work and study under the vigilant and guiding hands of other cardinals such as Jinnette. But when they stopped near a workbench, Gabriel noticed that Cardinal Jinnette was studying him with a worried, if not impassive look.
"Your mind wanders." He stated simply after catching the attention of the younger man. With a gesturing nod, he moved forward a few steps, where a projector had a map of Europe displayed on a white screen. The cardinal continued to speak as he stared at the map. "There has been a change in you, my son. Subtle, but it is there, and it has been there ever since Transylvania." Gabriel said nothing as Jinnette lowered his gaze to the floor and shook his head, but this was only an instant of an action before he looked up at the map again. The cardinal had a fatherly affection for Van Helsing, as he had been the one who had lent that guiding hand which brought Gabriel's mind back to the world of the sane, shortly after loosing his memories years ago. Not long after that, Van Helsing was employed to do work of God by riding the world of evil threats. While many did not see Jinnette's affability for his ward straight away, they could usually hear it in his tone, when he took the time to scold the hunter for certain faults, much the way a father scolds his son. The cardinal began to speak again, but not of missions.
"Sometimes I wonder if it was a good idea to send you to Transylvania. There were others I… we could have sent, yes. But I chose you, because you are the best. You have a mindset that no other hunter before you has had: you have that ability to sense what is evil and what is not. Though you sometimes have that indifferent temper…" a wistful smile touched his lips. "I don't know the details of what happened in Transylvania. I'm not sure that I want to. I don't know what went on in those lands… what your encounters with the Count Dracula led your thinking… your faith to go… I know that loosing those that you had been assigned to protect and help, Prince Velkan and his sister, Princess Anna, was not easy on you. You hadn't been given a task similar to that one previously in your work." He gave a short sigh before continuing, his voice dropping an octave or two, to something above a whisper.
"I could tell you, like I have so often in the past, that this is all just a test of faith." He glanced up at Van Helsing, his dark eyes meeting the hunter's. "But I'm not going to. I once knew a young man. He was under the care of Cardinal Davide. He was a monster hunter, like you; willful and headstrong. Often stubborn and had the most irritating way of making messes out of his assignments. Giuseppe was his name. But he had a good heart, and he did his work to the best of his abilities. He had a sister – Bianca. While fending off some monsters… werewolves, she got tossed into the fray, and was killed. The werewolves were stopped, yes, but not before the casualty. After her death, he continued to do his work, but it wasn't the same as it had been before. He started becoming reckless, as though eager to join her in death. He eventually did." The cardinal rested his hands upon the image projector, letting the cool feeling of the metal sate the memories, as well as his thoughts. He looked at Van Helsing.
"I'm not saying that you want to join the Valerious Family in the death that they have met. You're actions have not been to that point of recklessness. You're work speaks well of you. But something happened in Transylvania, and it is plaguing your mind and perhaps your heart. I only wish for you to be careful, take a more heedful path. Find out the real reason behind a mind that wanders."
Van Helsing watched the cardinal with growing interest, but his face did little to betray his thoughts. He felt that there was something else to be leaned here, that what Jinnette has said was more than just a worried caution. The monster hunter wondered if the cardinal was in fact telling the truth about how much he knew of the dealings in Transylvania, but he didn't ask, and the wonder was only fleeting. Rather than answer him with a response to all that he had said, Gabriel directed his gaze to the projection of the European map and gave a curt nod.
"What's my next assignment?"
Jinnette watched him for a moment, as though trying to read his thoughts, but it was of no avail. Letting his gaze drift toward the map projection, he sighed. "There is an unspoken evil that has been rooted in the heart of Transylvania. We've sent some hunters out to investigate, but all signs of abnormal activity have waned in and out of existence and no signs of the supernatural have been found. Just the occasional were-creature, and of course, the vampires: though sightings of both of these have dwindled since your visit. We've traced patterns of the activity and have found that it has started to arise within the lands of the British Isles. That's the reason why you were sent there earlier: to confirm the mount of an unearthly atmosphere upon the land. I trust you will be able to determine whether or not you should start your investigation there." It was a statement, rather than a question. As he spoke, the maps shown on the projection were different areas, first of Transylvania where the source of this strange but haunting spiritual nexus was thought to arise, but was not found, then to areas in the British Isles. "We'll need you to report back to us every-so-often with reports on what you find. If need be, you'll start in the Isles, and make your way back to Transylvania."
True to his words of worry, Cardinal Jinnette had sent Van Helsing on what he referred to as a 'fetch me a chicken' quest. Only once or twice before, in all his time of working with the Order, had he been sent on a fool errand such as this. But he hadn't argued. They had not given him a neither a name, nor a creature to go after. Hell, they hadn't even told him where to go. The British Isles, though by comparison not equal to the whole of Europe, was still a vast area, three different countries, in which he was supposed to 'look for information.' He hated it when he was given such bland jobs to do. But, this was Jinnette's way of giving him 'time off,' though time from hunting monsters and demons, and flushing them out of the world of the living should never be a factor. He was basically going to catch a chicken. And clear his mind in the process of whatever lingering effects Transylvania had had on him. He wondered how long it would be before he was given a real assignment as he headed through the catacombs, nodding to some of the members of the clergy, heading toward Carl's laboratory.
He could hear the voice of the blond man as he stepped around a bend that led into a work area teeming with workers and busy-bodies. They didn't even look up at him as he moved through the dispersing conflux of monks, friars, and clerics. He spotted Carl easily amongst the workers, talking animatedly to a much younger man, presumably in his teens with fair skin and thin black hair, sitting atop his head much the same way a bowl might sit atop someone's head. Both looked up upon Gabriel's arrival.
"Going on a vacation, then, are you?" Carl said, his words punctuated by the arch of his eyebrows. The inventor, still in his plain brown robes of linen, accented only by a corded belt at the waist and a similar, but smaller cord at the collar, moved from one side of one of the many work tables to the next, putting different items on the wooden surfaces in what appeared to be a specific arrangement. His hair, seeming to be permanently combed into that wispy razored look – perhaps fashionable and stunning for a member of the clergy – but by no means a statement of debonair finesse, was disorderly as ever, blond wisps sticking out here and there. The thin, wiry man, by no part looking the latter, as he often proved to be, beckoned toward the youth that followed him around as he continued to arrange. Van Helsing nodded toward the boy who was with Carl before looking over the friar's latest contraptions, his footsteps echoing across the stone floor as he picked up a bag and began to load it with miscellaneous items, some random, and others he had used before. Carl followed him.
"Not likely. They say its investigative work, the easy stuff that I'm not meant to do. I have the feeling, though, that whatever they don't want me to know, I'll find out anyways, and when I do, I'll need all the help I can get." He paused at a tear-drop shaped container, the size of a rather large orange, that was sitting on a pedestal, apparently filled with some sort of amber liquid. There was what appeared to be a bangle secured across the widest part of the strange looking storage device, with small nodes and wires protruding from each. The wires, by no means flexible, stretched in a smooth arch to the tapered tip of the tear-drop shaped contraption, connecting to a small metal clip. Quite intriguing, it was. Gabriel nodded toward it. "What's this do?"
"Ah! That's one of my latest inventions. Actually been working on it since we got back from Transylvania. It's liquid fire!" Carl seemed quite pleased with himself.
"Liquid fire?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow, the beginnings of a grin coming to him. "Isn't that a little…oxymoronic?" Carl shrugged for a moment, but tensed as the tall, dark-haired man picked up the glass, tossed it into the air, and caught it deftly. "So does that set things on fire, or does it get things wet?" Gabriel had a notion that whatever was in that little container acted very much like one of the explosives that Carl had first shown him when they had first met. A single drop made quite a big bang, from what he recalled.
"Well… yes, but… no one ever said that an inventor had to make sense." The inventor shrugged. "It's supposed to set things on fire with a lovely, but searing explosion of heat. Though, it works best on a wet surface... which is also oxymoronic, when you think about it. You can do all kinds of things. Start a bon-fire, roast some marshmallows… not to mention a few limbs…" Carl reached for his dangerous invention, but Van Helsing held it up, out of the way, feigning times where he would drop it, but neatly catch it again. He had quite a bit of fun, nearly giving Carl a heart-attack when it came to these types of inventions. At leisure, he relinquished the item to the friar.
"Are you trying to kill me, or is this just your idea of fun."
"Well, I'm trying to kill you, Carl, but I have to skillfully hide that fact." He stated matter-of-factly with a small smile as he continued to grab some items. Looking over his shoulder, he found that Carl was also making up a bag of gadgets and items, as was the boy, who had yet to speak. Carl looked up.
"Oh, I almost forgot introductions. Van Helsing, Albert, Albert, this is Van Helsing." The boy nodded, and judging by his gray robes, he looked to be an apprentice of some sort. Carl's next words confirmed just that. "Albert is an apprentice monk, friar to be, you know. The interesting stuff. The Order has decided that I can take him on as my student." Gabriel gave a mock pained expression and cringed.
"I don't know what the Order was thinking, letting you get a hold of this poor boy to corrupt."
Carl's retort was a wry look and a dismissing sentence. "Well, hope you have fun on your vacation." Gabriel chuckled.
"I will. You're coming with me." Carl started to protest, but Gabriel knew that, be it investigative work or action-packed hunting, Carl would have gone with him anyways. Hence the packing and assorting of items into bags and satchels. "If I'm going to go somewhere and be bored out of my mind searching for something that doesn't exist just so that I can report back to the Order and tell them I found nothing, I'm sure not going to be bored alone." With a wry smile, Carl made a comment.
"You're too kind. Any idea where we're going?" That was easy. Van Helsing thought. It was getting easier and easier to have Carl tag along as his side-kick.
"Definitely. We're going where all the paranormal action is: The Scottish Highlands."