Disclaimer- Haven't done one of these in a while... I own nothing except for the plot, Daniel, Michael, David, William, John, James, and Analiese. Anything pertaining to Van Helsing is not mine. I do, however, own Carl the Stuffed Purple Dog....
A/N- After a couple hours of listening to the Hunchback of Notre Dame's song 'Sanctuary' and Evanescence's 'Tourniquet' for mood I whipped up this. I am actually very happy with the way it turned out, but all I can say is... look at the chapter title. It speaks volumes.
Doris()- Wow, I did not know that ff.net updated things so quickly.... I was still on, reading some fics, when I got your review... Yea, that chapter felt a little off with me too, but I couldn't quite get it to work. It was a 'transition' chapter, if you will, it didn't have much meat on it. I promise you, this one will be better! And I'm very glad to hear you say that about Analiese, that was exactly what I was going for.
Chia()- Thanks for your review! I love Dracula dearly... I hate being so cruel to him! He does show a little 'spark' at the end of this... but whether I am merciful to him or not is up to you:-)
Hypercaz()- I hope that wasn't sarcasm...? Sorry, I just can't tell if you were implying that he didn't get mad enough or if he was seriously pissed at the end. I know he didn't really lose it at Vlad in the other chapter, but I was saving that anger for this.
Irish Anor- Your reviews crack me up! And if you feel like killing me after you read this... blame it on yourself cuz you asked me to update:-)
This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Katze... a.k.a Bitchie Witchie. I use part of our 'infamous fight scene' in this chapter (she knows what I am talking about:-)
Chapter 11:
Bloodbath
He awoke, still in the armchair, around an hour before midnight. Analiese was still asleep in the bed next to him; he resisted the urge to stroke her cheek. If she awoke, she would throw a fit about him going to duel Dracula, maybe even try and come with him. Gabriel Van Helsing didn't need her to be caught in the crossfire. He spent a few minutes stretching out his considerable muscle, then pulled on his boots and headed down the stairs and out of the tower.
The armory was across the hall from the tower entrance, along with the library. Silent as death, he went to the armory. Moonlight shone in, casting glitter all over the swords, axes, spears and shields in the room. He walked into its milky light, the shadows he cast along the walls seeming so much more huge than he was; the things we fear the most are always much larger than we think they are. Absently, he ran his hands over each of the blades, trying to chose one that suited him. Normally, he wouldn't attack with a sword, but he had no other choice. Even as he was trying to choose a weapon, he was trying to surround his heart with walls of stone. He had to think of Vlad Dracula as a monster, not as his best friend, if he was going to kill him.
"Van Helsing?" asked a small, familiar voice from behind him. The hunter turned slowly to see Carl standing there, a sleepy look on his face.
"What are you doing here, Carl?" He asked quietly.
"I fell asleep in the library reading, and I heard someone open the door. I wanted to come wish you luck." The Friar mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"I wish you a good night's sleep." smiled Van Helsing.
"I won't be able to sleep for worrying about you. Please, be careful." He pleaded.
"Aren't I always?" He grinned.
"Well, actually, if I was to go through and analyze my records of all your missions, I'd come to the conclusion that-" Carl began in his usual way before Van Helsing raised a hand to silence him.
"That was rhetoric." He said with a wry and gentle smile.
"I never liked rhetoric. I like answers." Carl replied, seeming a little miffed.
"We all do." Van Helsing became distant once more, turning back to the weapons. At last he chose one; it was buried in a corner of the room behind some shields. The blade was slender and fine with a simple iron crossbar that had only a single gem on it. He also selected a worn wooden shield (A/N- honestly, I can't remember what their shields looked like in the movie... oh well, I'm makin' it up!) that was black with a red cross on it. "How do I look?"
"If I say awful, will you stay?" Carl asked sadly.
"Do me a favor." Van Helsing said, clasping Carl's shoulder. "Pray for me."
"Do me a favor. Stop breaking my shoulder." replied his friend with a sarcastic grin. In response, Van Helsing laughed quietly and squeezed harder, causing the Friar to yelp, before exiting the room. Neither had the heart to say goodbye.
Outside the castle, James walked furiously for the glen. He had seen Dracula and Daniel head in that direction on horseback shortly before him, and knew that couldn't be good, but hadn't had a chance to grab his own horse and pursue. It was quieter on foot anyway.
As he reached the glen, he couldn't hear or see them anymore. He cursed and began to pace back and forth, back and forth. Analiese! It was all her fault. Everything was coming out how he had feared. And he was terribly afraid. He froze all of the sudden, hearing the voices of Vlad and Daniel.
"What do you have in mind for me?" Daniel asked.
"You know how evenly matched... he... and I are, correct? If we are left alone, it will never go anywhere." Daniel must've nodded here, because James did not hear a response. They spoke so quietly, he could scarcely hear them anyways. "I want you to be an... insurance policy....you.....our best archer..." James froze entirely, the blood pounding in his ears making it hard to heard. Dear God, no... "....that alcove in the hall...the statue once was?....covered it with a tapestry... take your best crossbow.... hide there... you should know what to do then."
"Aye."
"Good."
There was the sound of hoofbeats pounding away; James burst out of the glen to see Vlad and Daniel galloping back towards the castle. NO! His mind screamed. He had to warn Gabriel that he was being cheated! But he could never get back in time... Cursing, he took off at a dead sprint.
Van Helsing walked into the hall just before midnight, his sword unsheathed. A faint breeze snaked through the room, causing decorations to twitch limply. Clouds had taken the moon and stars into their opaque grasp, cutting off their light. It was nigh impossible to see.
His footsteps echoed eerily as he slowly began to walk again, every sense on highest alert. Thunder muttered darkly somewhere nearby. It distracted him for a moment.
"Hello, Gabriel."
Van Helsing whirled, sword out and shield up, but could see no one. A crack of lightening revealed Dracula; he stood up by the table they had ate at. His arms were relaxed at his sides, his sword and shield lazily brushing the ground. A few strands of his ebony hair fell across his face in oblique lines as he smiled maliciously. Suddenly the flash ended and they were in darkness once more.
"Hello." Van Helsing replied tightly, his sword and shield still up.
"Why so eager to fight?" There was a dreadful scraping noise; Van Helsing knew that Dracula grew closer, dragging his sword and shield with him. The next flash in the spring electric storm revealed him to be much closer in a stance similar to before. Van Helsing raised his shield slightly. "A cross? Please Gabriel. That would not repel me. I am not a vampire anymore." He was even closer as the thunder roared, much closer now. He ran his hand along the painted cross. "But if I was a vampire, I'm sure I could dance to the beat of your heart right now..." He began to tap his hand against the shield like a heartbeat, gradually louder, louder, faster, faster. With the next flash, he drew back slightly and sank into an en guarde stance, his shield in front of him and sword raised. "What do you say, my friend?" The clouds parted slightly, casting moonbeams in a cage all around them. "Shall we dance?" Without warning, he let loose a violent side-to-side slash aimed for Van Helsing's head.
Van Helsing ducked and brought up his shield to intercept the blow, holding Dracula's sword up above his head with it. Then he lunged forward, his sword aimed for Dracula's gut. Dracula swept the blow aside with his own shield and, leaving Van Helsing thus exposed, kicked him squarely in the chest and sending him skidding. As Dracula advanced on him, shield up and sword high, Van Helsing scrambled to regain his feet and met the downward strike.
Metal rang as their swords met; there was a sharp crack as their shields smashed together. They were locked together there if only for an instant, staring into each other's eyes. But then Dracula spun quickly away, his momentum sent Van Helsing flying once more. Now they were switched, and Van Helsing had his back to the tapestry by the table. There was the telltale click of a crossbow being loaded...
Van Helsing feinted left than struck right, but Dracula had suspected that and ignored the first blow to catch the second. He knew that whenever Van Helsing struck left in a slash it was a feint; he favored his right slash. Dracula himself lunged, but was forced to dart out of the way when Van Helsing blocked the attack with his shield and sent his sword in a downward slash to lop Dracula's head off. Stumbling, he rolled to the side and Van Helsing's right. The Hunter turned to face him as he stood, his back once more to the tapestry.
As they fought viciously across the hall, whirling back, forward, in, out, and around in a cage of wood and metal, Van Helsing's mind seemed to drift away. His hands and feet knew every step of this deadly dance, leaving him free to think. He thought of how poignant, perfect, and painful this was; he was either to die at his best friend's hands or to kill him with his own. That's what happens when love and war, two of the most powerful things on this Earth, intercept; you are given all the passion of love, and the pain of war. The grief that links both is increased tenfold. You end up fighting against those you care about most, spilling the blood of the hearts you once held so dear. It hurts more than anything else on Earth. But this, this made perfect sense. The first blood each had drawn was on the other when they first learned to fight. It was well that the last blood would be drawn by that same person.
Van Helsing was jolted out of his reverie as Dracula caught him in a sword lock, holding him there. The Hunter frowned. Why didn't he go in for the kill...?
"Gabriel!" Shouted a familiar voice. Van Helsing turned his head in just enough time to see James, sword up, charging at the tapestry by the table. A crossbow was poking out of it...
The bolt (A/N- For anyone who doesn't know this, projectiles fired from a crossbow are called bolts. At least, I think they are...) struck James so hard that he fell to the ground, his sword clattering out of his hand. A pool of red began to form around him as he convulsed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, then lay still.
"He always did irritate me." Said a dark voice from behind the tapestry. It was then that Van Helsing knew... he was not alone.
"Traitor!" He snarled at Dracula, dancing away before the shooter could get a chance to reload.
"I had prayed that would be the last thing you ever said to me. Such a pity you are yet alive as you say it." Dracula grinned wickedly, pressing his attack.
"Then I'll spit it back in your face when I'm standing over your dying body, just so you can pretend that it's me dying and not you!" He growled back, blocking Vlad's attack and going in for a vicious riposte.
Their fighting now grew even more intense, fueled by rage and hate. Van Helsing was like white hellfire, never staying in one place for long, his defenses equally as devastating as his attacks. Dracula was hard pressed to get him over by the tapestry again, and fear began to gnaw at his stomach. How could he defeat this man when he moved like mercury across the floor and struck like iron?
They were now at the opposite side of the hall, where Van Helsing had first entered from. There was the sound of metal on metal, the shouts of battle, in the hallway leading to the tower, armory, and library...
"What have you done?" Gabriel shouted at Dracula, holding him in a sword lock. Dracula responded by shoving his best friend turned archenemy against the wall.
"I have done nothing!" Dracula yelled back.
"This fight was between us. What drove you to take it to our friends too?" He said, his voice low and cracking with fury.
"I told you, I did not intend for them to be involved!" Dracula screamed, slamming his shield, side first, into Van Helsing's ribs, then throwing him to the floor.
While Van Helsing lay on the floor gasping for breath, Dracula threw his sword to the side, kicked Van Helsing's own away, and picked him up by this throat, dragging him over towards the tapestry. Van Helsing's head began to swim and dots dance before his eyes as he made peace with God, but then he heard the voice of his salvation.
"Van Helsing!" Carl shouted. Through his darkening vision, Van Helsing could see the little Friar, blood matting his hair and robes. He held what appeared to be a short sword. Praying he knew what he was doing, he flung the short sword at Dracula...
And missed.
But it did not hit Van Helsing. It went straight through Dracula's shield, still strapped to his forearm, and stuck out the other side. In the moment of shocked silence that followed, another crossbow bolt ripped through the air. But it wasn't aimed at Van Helsing. It found it's target... right in Carl's chest.
"Good thing I have better aim than your friend..." The voice from behind the curtain chuckled.
"Carl!" Van Helsing screamed as his dearest friend slumped slowly to the ground, succumbing to darkness, a new pool of blood spreading out around him.
Tears of pain and anger bit savagely at Van Helsing's eyes as he kicked Dracula in the stomach, causing the duelist to fling him to the ground. With a wordless cry, he threw himself onto Dracula, trying to choke him. As he heard another bolt being fired, he rolled so that Dracula was on top of him. The bolt just barely missed them...
With a grunt, Dracula slammed his fist into Van Helsing's face, stunning the man enough so that he could wriggle out of his grasp. When he did so, his shield caught on a gap in the flagstones; to get away, he just yanked out of the straps that held him to it. It fell to the ground, face up. He leapt to his feet, bracing himself as Van Helsing charged. With lightening, snakelike motions, he drew a knife from his boot and moved to plunge it into the charging man's chest.
Thinking quickly and realizing he couldn't dodge the strike, Van Helsing turned to the side and allowed the knife to go into his upper arm, drawing a sharp cry of pain from his lips. Dracula pulled it out again and raised it high, preparing for the killing blow as his archenemy fell to his knees. But the next thing he saw was the ceiling, for a sly Van Helsing had tripped him up when he intended to strike. Cursing vibrantly, he leapt up again, raising his bloodied knife once more.
Van Helsing knew in his heart that the battle was about to end. Their bloodlust was overcoming them, they had gone back to being as primal and savage as beasts. Funny, He thought. Four hundred years from now, we will be fighting as beasts... Locked in a mortal struggle, they staggered back and forth. Gabriel was latched onto Vlad's wrists, not letting him drive home the fatal strike. He could feel himself collapsing, the warm blood from the wound on his arm pouring down over him. He realized it might be the last thing he ever felt. The salty tears and sweat on his face and the warm torrent of blood on his arm. And his internal anguish. Carl... James... his friends... they were all dead. Anna was dead, Analiese's spirit might be broken forever...
Might.
Just as his muscles were about to give in, he made one last, desperate move. He swept his foot around, catching Vlad off guard, then shoved him down with all his might.
He landed on his shield, his eyes wide with shock as the short sword that Carl had imbedded there impaled him. Light, color, sound, and feeling fluttered away from him. He cried out in pain that words could not express, knowing he would never, ever feel these again. He was dying, becoming hollow. He tried to beg for those things that the living had to return to him, hand outstretched, but the blood rising in his throat garbled the words and they slipped beyond his grasp forever. He had never fought so hard against something in his long life, and never lost more miserably.
"I will see you again, Gabriel..." He whispered as Van Helsing bent over him. Strangely enough, he wished that those tears staining the man's face were for him. It would be nice to have someone crying for him... But then the tears of blood weeping from his wound carried with them the last vestige of life, and he went numb in death's cold embrace.
Van Helsing slowly fell to his knees, numb with shock. He had done it. He had killed the man who was once his best friend. He didn't know what to think, wasn't capable of thinking as the blood coming from his wound mixed with the blood coming from Vlad's mortal one. He knew what he had cried out for as he died: hope, love, and life. He knew he was losing those precious things forever.
"I'm sorry that you could not have those things." He whispered softly.
"Gabriel...?" Came a soft, feminine voice from the door Carl had come through. Van Helsing looked up to see Analiese, the bottom of her white shift dripping in blood, coming into the hall. He had told her to stay in the tower no matter the costs, but the forces of fear and intuition had drive her there. He pulled himself to his feet.
"Analiese... Anna..." He whispered, stretching out his arms for her. With a strangled cry, she rushed towards him. This was what he had been fighting for, he remembered now.
She closed in on him, and as he was about to embrace her warmth, her body arched weirdly, as if some invisible force behind her was pushing her forward. Her head was thrown back, and her knees seemed to buckle under her. "Analiese!" Van Helsing cried, catching her as she fell. Sobbing, he fell to one knee and braced her against it. Looking into her eyes, he saw them to be as still and unmoving as the rest of her. "NO!" He shouted, seeing the bloody hole in her chest, pumping waves of red over her white gown.
"If he can't have her, no one can!" shouted a shrill voice from behind them.
Van Helsing looked up; there stood Daniel, the tapestry behind him wavering, crossbow in hand. His sobs quieting, Van Helsing lay her on her side, watching with an odd sort of fascination as the blood from her wound seeped into his boots and the ground. There was silence for a moment as a shaking Daniel tried to reload his crossbow, then a sickening crunch. Daniel froze in his task as he saw Van Helsing stand, the bolt from Analiese's back in hand. He fumbled once more to arm his crossbow, but it clattered to the ground and his muscles seemed unable to do the work required to retrieve it.
Silent as a hunting cat, Van Helsing went to Carl's still form and wrenched the bolt out of him too. Then he turned to face Daniel and walked towards him calmly.
"No... please, Gabriel don't!" Daniel cried, backing against the wall. Van Helsing pinned him there. Slowly, he lifted the arrow he had taken from Carl's body and twirled it lithely in and out of his fingers.
"You killed Carl. You killed my right hand. And for that, I deprive you of the use of yours." He suddenly stabbed the arrow through Daniel's right hand; the man screamed and began to weep, begging for mercy. Tears of his own began to slip down his face as the Hunter raised the arrow he had removed from Analiese. "You killed Analiese. You destroyed my heart. And for that, I deprive you of the use of yours." So saying, he plunged the arrow into Daniel's chest and began to turn it in a circle, before finally shoving it all the way through. With a strange choking noise, the man fell limp in Van Helsing's grasp. With surprising gentleness, he lay the shooter down before staggering back over to Carl. He knew now... he was alone.
Gathering his dearest friend, the little redheaded Friar, into his arms, he began to sob bitterly. He knew he was alone, he knew why the bottom inch of Analiese's shift was soaked in blood. All his friends, and Dracula's, had been in a fight outside in the hallway. Somehow, Carl had escaped the carnage, only to be shot down by Daniel.
With heavy, faltering footsteps, he tried to carry Carl over to Analiese, but found his strength waning, he was forced to half drag both himself and his dead friend over to her. Cursing the world and all its cruelty, he gathered both into his arms and allowed his sorrow to overtake them.
The blood on the floor began to mingle, his and Analiese's and Carl's and Dracula's and Daniel's. The doorway leading the tower had its own pools of blood. All these people, they didn't deserve to bleed together. Some deserved an honorable death, away from this horrid bloodbath, while others deserved no better. And yet there they all were, bleeding together, all bound by one common thread:
Him. Gabriel Van Helsing.
Some of their blood was spilt for him, some because of him, and some by him. But it was all linked to him. As he held his two dear ones closer against him, he envied his former self for not remembering this. He didn't want to remember this. Maybe God had not cursed him with no memory. Maybe... God had blessed him. As he sobbed even harder, he wished that his tears would join together as their blood had and wash away the scarlet sea lapping all around him.
A/N- If any of you feel the sudden urge to kill me, read this first: THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY! THAT FAT LADY AIN'T SINGING YET! This is just the end of part one folks, we got a whiles to go!