A/n: My apologies for taking so long to update! My mum has banned me from using the computer on weekdays :( But I will try to update weekly ok? :) And I need some help...I don't know how change scenes except to use lines so bear with me while I try to find an alternative...

Disclaimer: Nothing on ff.net is original...

The succession of footsteps was the only sounds that could be heard bouncing off the walls of the rooms. They moved in silence, not speaking, tearing through one room after another. No words were needed – both their goals were the same. On their way towards their destination, Van Helsing and Anna met a few unfortunate minions of Dracula, all of which were killed. Ironically, they all seemed gleeful about something that remained unknown to them. After the umpteenth grinning faces they met, Anna's patience was stretched taut.

Grabbing hold of one of those horrid creatures, she glared at the smirking thing. "What's so funny?!" The ugly creature's grin widened perceptibly and her grip tightened. "He has gone with it. The Master will reward us!" it shrieked gleefully, its laughter sounding like a banshee screeching through the night. Anna dropped the creature in revulsion; surely laughing in such a manner at such a repulsive matter is not very healthy for a sane person. To her benefit and Van Helsing's none of those repulsive creatures bothered them for the rest of the journey.

"This is it. We're here," Dracula announced to the human clinging to him like a lifeline as they emerged from the enshrouding darkness. The room was massive. The pale marble pillars were barely discernable with the dim torches that hung from it. The gloominess of the place seemed to affect the people in the room. Carl surveyed his surroundings, eyeing the long line of people nervously. His grip on Dracula's arm did not loosen as his fearful eyes swept over the room again. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice barely audible from the trepidation gnawing at his insides. Dracula fought the urge to smirk at Carl's dependence upon him. The twerp knew nothing.

With slow deliberation, he peeled Carl's fingers away from his arm, almost wanting to refuse him an answer. But the twerp would just pester him. And that would be irritating. "They?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at the queue; Carl fidgeted under his strong gaze. "Yes, them," he replied, his attempt to sound curt failing horribly when his voice came out as a squeak. Amusement smiled from Dracula's eyes. "Waiting for their turn, of course. It usually takes a long, long time..." he drawled, completely refraining from answering his question directly. Carl's puzzlement was apparent as he pondered briefly what Dracula meant, then decided it would do better not to know. He turned his gaze from Dracula, opting for surveying his surrounding so he would at least know where he was. Somewhere in his mind, a voice said, 'Hell, of course.' He slapped himself mentally. Now even his mind was against him. It wasn't his fault he landed here, in Hell, of all places.

Van Helsing and Anna arrived at the bridge linking the two towers without any other incidents. A gap large enough to fit in another tower stood where the middle of the bridge had been before. Their efforts to get here had gone to waste, and time was slipping like water with every ticking second. Van Helsing growled in frustration. They would have to go all the way back down again and climb up the second tower. And there was still the third tower. All this would need time, and time was not a factor that they had in their hands.

Nevertheless, sitting duck on the broken bridge was no option. Turning swiftly, both Van Helsing and Anna made to backtrack the way they came from. Above them, a light wind blew by and the clouds parted to reveal the glowing full moon. Anna watched in palpable horror as Van Helsing began transforming into a werewolf again. In less than a few seconds, a snarling werewolf stood in place where Van Helsing was. It advanced towards her, backing her towards the edge of the bridge. A brief glance over her shoulder told her that she was too close the edge for comfort. And that brief glance was enough time for the werewolf to attack. It pounced and Anna sidestepped the werewolf, barely missing the entire weight of the werewolf but was rewarded with a slash across her shoulder for her inattentiveness.

Moving swiftly, she made her way away from the edge as the werewolf turned and advanced upon her with a deadly predatory look dancing in its red homicidal eyes. It leapt in a fluid motion and she moved away quickly, only to find herself falling as she tripped over her own leg. She landed heavily on her side, pain shooting up her ankle from the impact of the fall. The werewolf bared its fangs at her – she was almost sure it was grinning. Without a warning, the werewolf was upon her again, and she rolled over, avoiding its claws by mere inches. She needed a plan. She could not possibly hurt Van Helsing, but being knocked around like that was not good either. A thought flashed across her mind. If Dracula was able to control her brother, perhaps she could control Van Helsing too?

Anna got to her feet, immediately placing some distance between herself and the feral creature. Controlling him was the only option she had, and it might even work. Fixing a glare upon the snarling werewolf, she braced herself for another attack. Sure enough, the animal flew at her, giving her scant moments to prepare herself. "In the name of the Lord, stop!" Anna shouted, her command ringing into the silent night. No response came and the werewolf was still hurdling towards her. 'When plan one fails, take up plan two,' she thought to herself. But she had no other plans in mind, and the animal was still coming at her.

The room was certainly eventful. So many things were going on around Carl – many things that involved torture in one form or another. Sure, he could not exactly see what was happening, but from the strangled gurgling cries and yelps of pain, he could almost feel the torture. Every few moments there would be a weird sizzling sound that he positively did not want to know what it was, and every other time the whirr of the whip slapping across the cold hard floor could be heard, followed closely by a piercing scream. He winced instinctively as another cry sounded somewhere.

He looked around and the sound of crying caught his ears. A young woman, badly mangled was being dragged past them by to guards, crying incessantly. Carl sprung forward to help the young lady, only to feel cold hands gripping his arm and yanking him back. "Are you mad?! You have to mind your own business here! You could get into trouble if you don't!" Dracula hissed, eyes narrowed. Carl shivered involuntarily. Getting into trouble now was definitely not good. The queue moved slowly, and it was a long time before they were actually near the front. A large and high table sat at the front, with candles being the only source of light for the judge. The sight of the judge was simply revolting. The tortured cries were not exactly helping too, as his mind took on the imaginary road of whatever was happening to the tormented souls somewhere in this hellhole. His nervousness did not exactly bode well with the fact that they were near enough to hear the judge's verdict.

So far, already two of the five people that were previously before them were sent to Hell. Each deceased took along time to be judged, for their lives had filled many pages in the large thick book before the judge. Carl was starting to feel the stirrings of regret – he was not a very good friar in life. He wondered if he would be condemned to Hell or Heaven. Sure, he had done a number of cursing in his life, but he had saved the barmaid from the vampire too, and also had invented very useful things. The tension became too much to bear – he turned to Dracula's intimidating form beside him and almost immediately regretted doing so when he found Dracula's gaze fixed upon himself. "Can you go first?" he inquired fearfully. "No," Dracula replied emotionlessly, looking away. "Please?" Carl begged. There were only two people before him now. Dracula did not reply, and Carl knew his answer without asking. "But why not?" he ventured. Dracula's leering face swam into his line of vision. "Because," he said slowly, as though explaining to a two year old kid, "First-timers always go...first," he finished, a smirk dancing across his features. Carl wanted to glare at him for enjoying the merciless teasing Dracula put him through, but thought better of it.

Anna watched as though the werewolf was moving in slow motion as it came closer to her. At the last possible moment, she ducked low and the werewolf sailed past her and over to the other side of the bridge. She whirled around, adrenaline pumping through her system. However, the werewolf seemed distracted. It had seen something...

To be continued...

A/n: Thanks to all who reviewed, especially Sparrow's Chick: you don't know what your words mean to an amateur like me :) And also to my editor who wishes to remain anonymous. For the reviewer who wanted Dracula to slap Carl, I'll try to include that in my next chapter...For now, try to get yourselves off the cliff :)