(Here we go!)
Carl pinned Van Helsing with his stare. "Sloth I can certainly claim, as these last few months have seen me work less and less. And Lust - ah yes Lust." Carl studied the ceiling idly. "You never even asked about that night. I bet you assumed I stayed safe in the Valerious Manor and watched as those tiny flying horrors attacked the town."
Van Helsing sat up. "They attacked the town? We had no idea! We found the castle, and the pods were already hanging. Then the storm whipped up, and something like electricity tore through all the pods. Next thing we knew, these baby vampires were popping out all over the place!"
Carl laughed bitterly. "Well, while you and Anna were gone, they attacked, led by the Brides. I saw them fly by, and ran down to the town to warn them, but I couldn't get there fast enough. Those monstrosities were feasting on anything that moved." He looked away, not willing to let Van Helsing see the horror that still haunted his eyes when he thought about those terrifying moments, the screams of the townspeople, the shrieks of the vampires, the sickening thud when another person's drained body dropped from above. "She was clinging to a lamppost, while a baby vampire tried to drag her off, to drain her blood and let her fall like the rest. I was terrified, but I had to do something. I grabbed a bucket and threw it. Somehow, I hit the thing, and it let go of her. I managed to catch her, catch her before she hit the ground like all the dead ones." His voice grew distant, quiet. He couldn't talk about it loudly. "I saved her. She'd have died if not for me. Then, suddenly, they were all dying, all the vampires, exploding spontaneously. She said, 'How can I repay you?'" Without even realizing it, Carl's expression softened. "I don't know where it came from. I just leaned over and asked her to lie with me. And she agreed." He heard Van Helsing's gasp of shock, but he ignored it. This was the key to his madness, Carl knew, and he had to explain it. "Her name was Gita. She was.... Fascinating. I know so few women. I wonder, are they all that strong? Like Gita and Anna? Her husband was dead. She had no family but an aged mother. She ran the tavern by herself. She owned it. She laughed like a brook, bright and quick." Carl smiled sadly, remembering. "I told her about our work, how we would hunt and defeat Dracula, and I can still see in my mind how her eyes TRUSTED me, how she believed that we could do it. And then she took me into her arms, and I have never known anything more glorious than that evening." He sighed, and ignored how Van Helsing leaned closer, his expression eager. "I finally felt alive. I finally felt like a real person. We laughed, and we coupled, and we curled around each other and I listened to her heartbeat. Every time we came together, it was like a miracle. And somehow, I felt more myself afterwards. Not long after I woke I found the moving painting. She just kissed me and left. Yet her confidence in me - it gave me hope."
The silence stretched between the two men. Carl was lost in memories of that night. Van Helsing seemed to be pondering the implications.
Finally, Carl sighed and returned his gaze to his companion. "So, now you see. I'm half mad, and all damned. I've tasted the pleasure of sin, and it haunts me to this day. I can't concentrate. This work, this mission," he waved his hand, indicating the whole Order, "is meaningless. I. Don't. Care. I don't. Now I know what's out there."
Van Helsing shook his head. "After London, you couldn't wait to get back here."
Carl raised a brow. "Do you think so? Maybe. After all, London was one terrifying moment after another. But in Transylvania, I learned something."
"What?"
"I can be the hero too." Both men paused to ponder that statement. Carl went on. "Everything is so very VIVID out there. I can't go back to the way I was before. It's like the Carl Sherman before Transylvania is dead. I can't even imagine how I was before."
Van Helsing made a face. "Look, lying with a woman does not change a man."
"Doesn't it? Doesn't that first time change a boy into a man? It was my first time. It was the first time I've ever felt like something I did actually meant something. Saving her, I mean. I saved her life. And in reward, she.... She gave me life." Carl buried his face in his hands, his piece of bread shredded to little more than crumbs on the plate. "So here is this new man. And he is not as interested in creating weapons or collating clues or researching history. I am half formed. I cannot go back to how I lived and what I did before, and yet I have no idea what to do next. There is Limbo on earth, and I have found it."
If he wanted an answer, it would be a long time coming. Van Helsing quietly rose, washing the plate and cup he used and setting them to dry. He pulled an apple from a basket and crunched on it, appearing to think carefully. Carl watched him listlessly. He'd spent the last months in agonized frustration, and now that he'd told the whole sordid tale, he felt drained of all emotion.
"What's in the letter?" Van Helsing finally asked.
Carl snorted. "The Cardinal's spies are thorough." From some inside pocket of his robe, he pulled a battered parchment. "As if my own mental anguish wasn't enough, this came two months ago. Now I have even less of an idea what to do with myself." He set the letter in front of Van Helsing.
The hunter reached for it, then hesitated.
"Oh go ahead," Carl snapped, annoyed. "You know more about me now that anyone else on God's green earth, you might as well read my mail too."
The parchment bore a simple direction: To Friar Carl Sherman, The Vatican, Rome, Italy. Gently, Van Helsing unfolded the paper and began to read.
(And here's where we'll stop for today, right before the big reveal! Yes, I gave the 'barmaid' a name. Gita is a fairly contemporary name, and rather Germanic rather than Slavic, but that was the name she picked for herself, I swear!)
Carl pinned Van Helsing with his stare. "Sloth I can certainly claim, as these last few months have seen me work less and less. And Lust - ah yes Lust." Carl studied the ceiling idly. "You never even asked about that night. I bet you assumed I stayed safe in the Valerious Manor and watched as those tiny flying horrors attacked the town."
Van Helsing sat up. "They attacked the town? We had no idea! We found the castle, and the pods were already hanging. Then the storm whipped up, and something like electricity tore through all the pods. Next thing we knew, these baby vampires were popping out all over the place!"
Carl laughed bitterly. "Well, while you and Anna were gone, they attacked, led by the Brides. I saw them fly by, and ran down to the town to warn them, but I couldn't get there fast enough. Those monstrosities were feasting on anything that moved." He looked away, not willing to let Van Helsing see the horror that still haunted his eyes when he thought about those terrifying moments, the screams of the townspeople, the shrieks of the vampires, the sickening thud when another person's drained body dropped from above. "She was clinging to a lamppost, while a baby vampire tried to drag her off, to drain her blood and let her fall like the rest. I was terrified, but I had to do something. I grabbed a bucket and threw it. Somehow, I hit the thing, and it let go of her. I managed to catch her, catch her before she hit the ground like all the dead ones." His voice grew distant, quiet. He couldn't talk about it loudly. "I saved her. She'd have died if not for me. Then, suddenly, they were all dying, all the vampires, exploding spontaneously. She said, 'How can I repay you?'" Without even realizing it, Carl's expression softened. "I don't know where it came from. I just leaned over and asked her to lie with me. And she agreed." He heard Van Helsing's gasp of shock, but he ignored it. This was the key to his madness, Carl knew, and he had to explain it. "Her name was Gita. She was.... Fascinating. I know so few women. I wonder, are they all that strong? Like Gita and Anna? Her husband was dead. She had no family but an aged mother. She ran the tavern by herself. She owned it. She laughed like a brook, bright and quick." Carl smiled sadly, remembering. "I told her about our work, how we would hunt and defeat Dracula, and I can still see in my mind how her eyes TRUSTED me, how she believed that we could do it. And then she took me into her arms, and I have never known anything more glorious than that evening." He sighed, and ignored how Van Helsing leaned closer, his expression eager. "I finally felt alive. I finally felt like a real person. We laughed, and we coupled, and we curled around each other and I listened to her heartbeat. Every time we came together, it was like a miracle. And somehow, I felt more myself afterwards. Not long after I woke I found the moving painting. She just kissed me and left. Yet her confidence in me - it gave me hope."
The silence stretched between the two men. Carl was lost in memories of that night. Van Helsing seemed to be pondering the implications.
Finally, Carl sighed and returned his gaze to his companion. "So, now you see. I'm half mad, and all damned. I've tasted the pleasure of sin, and it haunts me to this day. I can't concentrate. This work, this mission," he waved his hand, indicating the whole Order, "is meaningless. I. Don't. Care. I don't. Now I know what's out there."
Van Helsing shook his head. "After London, you couldn't wait to get back here."
Carl raised a brow. "Do you think so? Maybe. After all, London was one terrifying moment after another. But in Transylvania, I learned something."
"What?"
"I can be the hero too." Both men paused to ponder that statement. Carl went on. "Everything is so very VIVID out there. I can't go back to the way I was before. It's like the Carl Sherman before Transylvania is dead. I can't even imagine how I was before."
Van Helsing made a face. "Look, lying with a woman does not change a man."
"Doesn't it? Doesn't that first time change a boy into a man? It was my first time. It was the first time I've ever felt like something I did actually meant something. Saving her, I mean. I saved her life. And in reward, she.... She gave me life." Carl buried his face in his hands, his piece of bread shredded to little more than crumbs on the plate. "So here is this new man. And he is not as interested in creating weapons or collating clues or researching history. I am half formed. I cannot go back to how I lived and what I did before, and yet I have no idea what to do next. There is Limbo on earth, and I have found it."
If he wanted an answer, it would be a long time coming. Van Helsing quietly rose, washing the plate and cup he used and setting them to dry. He pulled an apple from a basket and crunched on it, appearing to think carefully. Carl watched him listlessly. He'd spent the last months in agonized frustration, and now that he'd told the whole sordid tale, he felt drained of all emotion.
"What's in the letter?" Van Helsing finally asked.
Carl snorted. "The Cardinal's spies are thorough." From some inside pocket of his robe, he pulled a battered parchment. "As if my own mental anguish wasn't enough, this came two months ago. Now I have even less of an idea what to do with myself." He set the letter in front of Van Helsing.
The hunter reached for it, then hesitated.
"Oh go ahead," Carl snapped, annoyed. "You know more about me now that anyone else on God's green earth, you might as well read my mail too."
The parchment bore a simple direction: To Friar Carl Sherman, The Vatican, Rome, Italy. Gently, Van Helsing unfolded the paper and began to read.
(And here's where we'll stop for today, right before the big reveal! Yes, I gave the 'barmaid' a name. Gita is a fairly contemporary name, and rather Germanic rather than Slavic, but that was the name she picked for herself, I swear!)