Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story pertaining to the movie Van Helsing are the property of Stephen Sommers. This is an amateur effort. Infringement on copyright laws was unintentional. This story is for entertainment purposes only.


Chapter 5: Queen of Fey

Van Helsing read through the invitation several more times; looking over the fine movement of her handwriting on the note she had left him, beckoning him to her as if she were a secret lover of some kind. He could think of only two explanations for her behaviour. One was that she was manipulating him, a likely act for any type of monarch to partake in. The second idea was that she was truly interested in him, although he had heard the stories of what befell the men who were infatuated with such goddesses and monarchs like Morgan le Faye.

He could sense that something had followed him when he left the house, staying by him when he took a room at an Inn nearby so he could watch her movements. He did not sleep that night, constantly listening and waiting for the spy to make it self known. In the early houses of morning he heard the smallest breath in the corner of the room and promptly threw a tojo blade, catching the creature in its midriff and impaling it to the wall.

Its bottom half fell off to the floor and crumbled to dust while the top half gave a shrilly scream, writhing in agony before it to vanished to the wind. Gabriel made the sign of the cross and ripped his weapon from the wall, putting it back in his sleeve.


The scream awoke him from his light slumber. He stood up from his chair, the books and papers dropping from his chest as he got to his feet and turned towards the stairs frantically, walking there at a brisk pace.

His boots pounded on the oak floors of the home and even the carpet that ran to the second floor did nothing to mask his speed and strength applied to each step. The female servant stood outside the door, holding it closed as something inside pounded and shouted to be released.

"I didn't do anything, sir. She was asleep one moment and then screaming the next." He pushed her out of the way, holding the handle himself as the creature inside shouted and screamed more; the high pitched voice resembled a growl and a roar instead of a humanoid sound. There was the sound of furniture breaking as wood splintered and glass shattered. The banging on the door continued as objects were pelted at it and small pieces of wood were blown under the door.

When the screaming stopped there was silence for a moment. Finally, the human inside began sobbing as he banging on the door decreased with her strength of will and body. He went inside at last, finding her curled on the floor in her white night gown, her arms holding her knees close to her body as cuts ran along them and bruises were clearly evident on her bony arms. He felt his heart break as he saw her, blonde hair falling out of her scalp and body so withered that breathing on her could have caused a bruise. He came to her side, crouching down to better look at her before placing a hand on her back.

The reaction was instantaneous. She looked up with fangs barred at him and lunged.

Gabriel awoke with a start, still seated by the window. The sun was sinking in the sky, low in the horizon, showing the night was coming quickly. He shook his head to clear it, angry at himself once more for falling asleep. He wiped his eyes, breathing heavily as the last memories of his dream went away and his muscles relaxed.

"I wonder what a man such as you could be haunted by." The tojo blades moved into his hands again and he looked about the room, the last of the sunlight showing the figure in the corner clearly. She watched him, amused greatly by his aggression towards her. Gabriel did not put his weapons away and instead pulled on the handles that triggered their spinning. Morgan continued to watch him.

"You have an interesting collection of weapons." She said to him, holding up a clay canister of Greek fire, looking from it to him quickly, her blue eyes reflecting on her feelings of interest towards him. The light from the setting sun moved over her pale skin and black cloak and dress, one side of her hidden in dark shadow while the other basked in the warmth of the disappearing orb of fire. "Are these all for me or do you have some other purpose here?"
"Guess." He replied quickly, standing up, not allowing him self to remain vulnerable to her attacks. Although, he guessed she was not going to kill him at that point in time. Morgan did not move and moved the clay canister through her hands, her pale complexion clashing with the clay jars. "You have been placed under arrest by the…"

"Spare me." She said quickly, interrupting him. "I am under arrest by no man or God."

"You and every other beast I've killed in the last four years."

"I'm quite sure I am beyond compare to any beast you have caught. Remember that I have been around many more years than they and know much more than you think I do." She rolled the canister in her hands and eyed it suspiciously before looking back at him.

"So are you going to kill me or help me?"
"Which do you think?"

"I can't imagine that it will be very easy for you." She said, taking the canister in her hand before pelting it across the room at him. The clay struck him in the shoulder as he sent both of the tojo blades flying and the thick, black fluid moved all the way down his sleeve and splashed onto his face. Morgan tossed off her cape, the wide fabric catching both the blades as it was pelted to the walls. The blades slashed through the velvet fabric and pinned it to the walls as its mistress extended her right hand.

They were caught in an impasse, he with his two pistols pointed directly at her, she with her hand outstretched as the pentacle on her palm caught the light and burned with her power. His own weapons were loaded with the bullets Carl had given him, ready to fire at her and turn her skin to charcoal. He watched her own hand though, unsure of what dark spells could pour from her fingertips and ignite the Greek fire that was pasted to his flesh.

"Do it." She willed him, her lips curving into a smile. "You know you want you. What could I possibly do to defend against it?"

He didn't answer, and he didn't fire. He was thinking now of the potential blow-back from the pistols and thought that firing a gun wouldn't help the situation much.

She smirked.

"Fine." She said. "Then I will."

Her hand was engulfed in flames, coming together in front of the pentacle in a channeled orb of energy. Van Helsing fired quickly, the bullets hitting her in the left shoulder and upper chest before she threw the sphere at him. He swerved from it, catching several sparks on his jacket, not enough to harm the skin underneath but enough to ignite the flames on his shoulder.

Morgan spun around and growled to herself, holding a hand to her injuries. The bullets were forced from the skin and the fire was absorbed by her body as the burns healed themselves and the flesh became smooth once more. He continued firing until both weapons were empty and the fire reached his face. It made his hair sizzle and his skin burn with white hot fury that made him groan in agony. She looked at the collection of glass on the floor, watching him try to extinguish the flames himself in the corner of the room. She extended her hand again, paralyzing his body with the invisible force that sprouted from the pentacle insignia. He tried to pull himself from her grasp feeling the evil enter his soul once more with every second. She tightened his grip on him.

"You thought this would be so simply, didn't you?" She asked him, tightening her fist as the force grew on his body, threatening to crush every bone and every muscle inside him. But Morgan stopped when she started to hear his limbs snap. The fire moved over his neck and continued to burn. She walked to him, her hand still in a fist as she touched his shoulder, the fire flickering and slowly dying. Her fingers moved over his face and head, the hair growing back were burnt flesh remained. Her touch was cold, the fingers filled with nothing but ice now from ages of heartlessness. Every time she moved her fingers over his skin she caused the pain to fade but a chill reside in its wake. Morgan's face was so close to his he could smell her, the scent of flowers and salt water meeting his nostrils as she kept his body within the hold of her hand, continuing her hold upon him until her work was done.

"I take it I can't convince you to join me this evening?" She asked him, knowing he would not answer. His jaw was locked completely, his breath coming in and out through his nostrils like a bull. Morgan put on a face of mock sadness, pouting her dark bottom lip a little. She shrugged and flicked her right wrist, tossing him onto the bed. He felt the control of his body return to him again, just as she came to him and knelt on the edge of the bed, leaning over him slowly. The corset constricted her movements very little and she still seemed to move gently as if part of the wind itself.

"Killing you would be too easy." She said, hands on his shoulders, her touch like flames now. He glared angrily, pushing against her, but Morgan had strength inside her that was not visible to the naked eye. "So I will give you a warning: Follow me and I will finish what the fire started."

She got up and off the bed, walking out of the room so quickly he had barely any time to sit up and run after her. The door slammed on her command, her pale face looking back at him as she lifted her skirt and headed down the stairs.

Gabriel grabbed the door. The handle wouldn't move, locked in place.

He marched over to the window, finding it bolted. He grabbed his tojo blades and pistols, reloading them before grabbing the sword from under the bed and strapping it to his belt. Without another thought on the subject he ran and tackled through the glass.

It shattered around him and he landed on the slant of the roof, his feet striking the shingles. He took a moment to catch his balance, making sure that his terrain was not going to fall.

Her carriage pulled off into the street.

Gabriel watched her. The shingles started to slide down the roof. He tried to catch his balance but he tripped and slammed his head into the window sill before sliding down the roof. His hand gripped the ledge before he tumbled off.

She's not making this easy is she?


He knew Morgan wanted him to follow her. She wanted his attention. She wanted him to chase her because it gave her a purpose. It made her feel important in some small way to have the excitement of Gabriel Van Helsing pursuing her.

I'd hate to disappoint…He thought, pulling him self up to the roof again. He reached his hand for the window sill, allowing it to rest on the rough surface of the roof for a moment before pressing his palm to it tightly, trying to use it as a grip. He let go with the other hand and pushed his palm to the shingle. Gabriel shifted his hands upward. The sweat on his hands caused him to slide again, leaving tiny scratches on his hands that were riddled with grit and tiny pieces of grime. Getting a grip on the ledge again was a pain and his tendons were almost popping out of his skin.

Well, this is getting interesting. Van Helsing looked down at the buildings and alley beneath him, trying to get a clear view of where he could easily drop to. The roof beneath him was completely flat but easily twenty feet beneath. He looked to his right side, finding the street empty and the buildings made of antique stone, perfect for embedding his grappling hook into.

Awkwardly, he grabbed it from his coat pocket before aiming (also awkwardly), and firing. His hand slipped just as the hook flew outward and struck the ledge near the roof of the building, and Gabriel swung down to the ground below.

His feet brushed the pavement. He had just enough time to let go and slide to the ground face first before the gun struck the wall of the opposite building. He got back to his feet, brushing himself off a little before grabbing his gun and winding the cord back into the barrel for a future time. He did wait for the rest to ravel. He finished as he ran off down the street.


Morgan walked up the front steps with no escort, something she loathed more than anything. She thought it was Merlin's good sense that was finally taking hold of her, and despite her abilities to control Gabriel Van Helsing's mind, she ignored the notion because it took away from the enjoyment of her evening. The thought of him rushing out to be rid of her were making her heart pound in anticipation. He was chasing her like a hunter stalking his prey, but she was equally as cunning. She knew he would not stay inside his room. She knew the locks on his door and window would not stop him from chasing her to hell and back. He would be persistent with his hunt for her, and the idea kept her blushing all through the evening.

Her invitation was accepted immediately, although the doorman was giving her a strange look. The other women all arrived with a man latched in their arm, while she arrived alone and unattended without even a chaperone. Morgan was allowed inside anyways, and she smiled at the young doorman, picking up her skirt slightly as she moved through the crowds of people also invited to the party.

The ballroom was completely made over with the chandelier lit up at the ceiling. Over two hundred candles were burning at that moment, allowing the room to note the beautifully painted ceiling. Large angels and flowers flew around in a dazzling interpretation of Michelangelo's work on the Sistine Chapel. Champagne was chilling on large tables to the side with food from all corners of the globe. Music was provided from a small orchestra in the corner of the dance floor.

Ball gowns swirled around hypnotically, every person in the room mimicking a dance they had practiced in finished school. Jewels gleamed from the throats of every female guest while the men's slick hair glistened from the oil applied.

Hamilton was enjoying every moment as the centre of the attention. He stood at the bottom of the stairs with a champagne flute in his hands, laughing with the other politicians and businessmen as if he understood the jokes that were coming out of their mouths. He looked over at the stairs, noting the light coloured dresses of the women walking inside, but the darkness caught his eye, and the woman walking down the steps certainly wanted to be noticed in her dark dress and raven hair, looking like death's concubine rather than a noble.

The eyes stood out in a crowd. Her royal blue irises held a million tiny white lights that looked like stars. Every step she took echoed through his mind, her dark lips twisting cruelly on her face. Hamilton took a deep breath and coughed, hearing her dark voice inside his mind, the icy tone of her words as a million languages spoke to him all at once, and each of them were speaking of death.


Gabriel Van Helsing darted down the street. The sensation of Morgan had not left the street left, her scent still hanging thick in the air. He could feel the enchantments all around him, growing stronger as he reached the address he had read so many times on the invitation before hand. He looked over at the steady procession of men and women into the home, watching from the darkened street corner. The security would be tough to crack, he knew that. But it had never stopped him before. He got into Dracula's castle unnoticed. To him, a London manor would be a walk in the park. He walked through the moving people, tilting his hat forward and disappearing into the crowd. Darkness swallowed him up and kept the men at the doors from noticing him skulk around the side of the house and look up at the windows where the lights danced off the walls.

He jumped up a slight distance and grabbed the window sill, pulling himself upward.


Morgan watched him approach her from across the room. She knew his face, the pale features of a man who had everything done for him since he was born. John Hamilton was a tall man, a slight bit lanky but it was hidden well with the suit he had chosen to wear. His nose was large and pointed at the tip with a small rectangular mustache sticking out underneath it, the edges of his facial hair curving around his small lips. His eyes were blue and glaring at her, daring her to make a move on him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked her, setting his champagne flute down on the table. Morgan smiled at him a little.

"I would have thought you'd be happy to see me, John." She said. His face was turning red. "Oh, come now, stop looking so angry. Surly you knew I would stop by one of these days."

"I was hoping He destroyed you."

"Actually it was the other way around." Morgan replied with the same cocky grin on her face. "It's funny how every other member of your 'order' thought the same thing. It seems that you were misinformed."

"Get out of here Morgan."

"You invited me, John." He tightened his fists. "Now do you want to end this here or should we take this somewhere more private?"

"You're leaving momentarily." He snapped his fingers to the men at the corners of the stairs. They approached them slowly, eyeing the situation carefully.

"One way or another, John, you're dying tonight and I'm taking that sword with me. Now, we can interrupt the party with a public display of your death, or you can show me to a place where I can take off your head in peace. It is your decision."

Hamilton was thinking hard. She could tell by his tightened muscles and clenched jaw. Every vein in his hand looked like it was going to pop out right then and there. It would have saved her the trouble from doing so later. He looked at the two guards and shook his head, sending them back to their posts. With a clenched jaw he looked back at Morgan, her smug appearance filling him with more rage.

"This way." He said, forgetting to offer his hand. Morgan didn't care. They walked past the dancers and past the businessmen at the bottom of the stairs and she reached to her breasts, feeling the pommel of her dagger held to her chest by the corset. She smiled once more when she felt the winds bring her back the news that Van Helsing was outside. Everything was going as she had planned.


Gabriel swung himself inside the open window, landing on the carpeted floor of the office and looking around. The open door allowed the light and the music of the ballroom to cast eerie shadows across the walls of the room, each dancer looking like a ghost or a demon, twirling to a haunting melody he had heard before. He walked quickly past the mahogany furniture, taking note of the thousands of swords that surrounded the walls of the room. Morgan's interest in weaponry was answered at the party, he knew that. He just had to find her and kill her before she killed the man she was here to do much the same to.

The hall outside the door stretched down to the right. He reached for the handle of his sword as the footsteps resonated from the stairs, the discomfited steps of Morgan in her corset and the quickened steps of a man taking her from the ballroom. They were silent to each other, walking by without caring to notice him at all.

He left the room when they had entered another, closing the door and locking it behind them. He cursed himself for not being quicker, but was once again hit with a flash of creativity as he went back to the room he had entered from.


Morgan watched him take the sword from the hooks it was placed on in the wall. She watched him draw it from the sheath, presenting it to her, displaying the blade with the pale blue glow to her angrily as she approached it. Her breath was slowed in its magnificence, the nineteenth blade to be added at last to her collection. She was within a foot of him before she placed a hand on the sheath, running her gloved fingers over it.

"I won't allow you to take it." He said, holding the sheath tightly, taking the handle in his hand.

"Your order is almost dead." She told him. "And they were all as predictable as you."

Morgan grabbed the dagger from her corset before he could draw his sword. His throat was slashed, his breaths nothing more than gargling noises as he collapsed to the ground, the sword held firmly in her gloved fist as the blood ran down her cheek and neck, trickling into her mouth.

The window shattered in a fury of black leather as Gabriel swung inside and dropped from his grappling gun. The shards of glass struck her skin, tiny fragments embedding themselves in her face and chest as he got up to his feet and drew his sword, watching her carefully.

"I see you didn't heed my warning."

"I hardly ever do."

"Pity…" She said, taking out the sword from the sheath, the blue glow growing brighter from her right hand's power. She tossed the sheath aside, wielding the weapon expertly while her hand twisted it so she could lower herself into a lunge. Gabriel charged her.

Their sword met, her blade pushing against his with other worldly force. She swung the dagger up past his face, the blur of movement causing him to spin backwards, facing her once again. She took the handle in both hands and moved in again.

It was her speed he found hard to keep up with. He made slashing actions to her sides while Morgan propped the blade vertically, parallel to her body and spun quickly, her skirt twirling around her body. The meeting of their swords caused sparks to fly from the areas of contact, dancing around her body and illuminating her pale skin until she appeared ghost like. His strength was greater than hers when she was distracted, and she found it hard to power her body with magical strength while he attacked.

He stayed close, swinging wildly but keeping his body closed to attack from both her dagger and sword. Every now and then she would grab the dagger from what appeared to be thin air, slashing his cheeks and opening wounds in his trench coat. Blood dripped from under his clothes. He swung once more, intending on taking her off from the torso up as she lifted her sword to cut downwards but missed when she jumped back and lowered her blade before charging forward and stabbing him straight through the shoulder.

He heard the crunch of bone as she pushed forward on the sword. Gabriel lifted his sword weakly to her, but she held the dagger at his throat, pushing it into the skin and drawing a tiny amount of blood at the tip of the blade. The lamplight flickered. Morgan glared at him, kicking his sword out of his hands before she twisted the handle on her own causing more bones to crack and break.

He growled loudly, reaching for her. Morgan yanked out the sword and swung it away from him making a long slash across his chest. He groaned again, unable to breathe from the ribs she had broken when she twisted her sword. She lifted the dagger up, preparing to bring it down on his head.

There was a pistol shot from the door. Morgan looked from Gabriel to the woman in the arch doors before snarling.

"This isn't over, angelus." She said before summoning the sheath to her as another bullet exploded from the gun. The wind rushed in from the window and swept her away to nothing.

The bullet struck the wall.

The woman brushed a lock of brown hair from her face, looking to Gabriel Van Helsing with a concerned look on her face. He struggled to breathe, coughing as blood filled his mouth.

"Who are you?" He asked, his eyes filling with darkness. The woman holstered the pistol and walked forward.

"My name is Mina Harker." She said. "And you are Van Helsing."


Author's Notes: As I mentioned before, I have not read Dracula. I have read the graphic novel by Alan Moore called The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and that is my basis for the character of Mina. Please read anything by Alan Moore if you have the chance! He's phenomenal.

Oh yes, and Carl will be returning soon. And as a response to the review I got from Zed, it was my intention for Carl to have a back experience with faeries. But shhh! It's a secret.