A/N-- I'd just like to pause and say that I will never, ever, ever do a story of this magnitude again. It's so emotionally draining to write... and I haven't been able to work on A Time for Chaos in days....

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG! I went dead on my Fanfics.... and I feel so bad! You must thank kydasam for her loverly slash stories, which inspired me to continue. So go on, thank her! Go read and review her fics!!! Here's M&M's for my reviewers (soon to become hers, riiiiight?):

The Wishmasters- Thank you! I hoped that you would!
Hey, I'd be nowhere without you! I wouldn't have even had the courage if you hadn't kept prompting and inspiring me! So this fic might as well be yours!
--glomps back--
Papilio- I'm so sorry to have made you wait so long!
Thank you so much for your review! Really... I'm flattered. I hope you enjoy this (long-awaited) update!
PineappleIce- LOL, the way you said that reminds me of my cousin Roxy.... And hey, I'm not laughing at you! Your pineapple dance is quite loverly! (that's my word of the day. Isn't it prettyful?) And you'll see what happens to Gabriel....
Jade- I made you cry? --hands tissue-- Maybe I should hand out tissues with this story instead of M&M's... Thanks for your reviews!
Ragweed- -- Hands out more tissues-- C'mon people, my writing can't be that bad.... surely not bad enough to make you cry.... (LOL) I hope you get working on your story soon! (aren't I one to talk?)
inga- LOL! We all make mistakes, don't worry..... Thanks for the review!
kydasam- (1st review) Nice to see you reviewing!! I'm in love with your story... without it, this one mighta died!
(2nd review) I'm so glad to hear you say all of that! (really, even the strangling part) That's exactly what I wanted to make everyone feel with my writing.
(3rd review) Everyone seems so captivated by the dolphin, but you're the first to catch onto the fact that the harpy also had blue eyes. very observant! You're also, perhaps, the most traumatized one yet.... this is really getting to you, isn't it?
(4th review) I actually had a lot of fun with that whole 'Heaven in kiss, Hell in tears' thing. That was my 'theme' for the chapter (if you look, in some chapters, there's a phrase that I repeat and restate over and over again.) Don't we all wish they could just be together? But like you said, not likely. But hey, I love angst romance!
(5th review) --hugs back-- You're welcome! That chapter was fun to write... and you had quoted just about all my favorite lines!
(6th review) You crack me up!!! Really.... And I don't mind long reviews! puppy dog eyes

This chapter's song is 'Whisper' by Evanescence. Next chapter's song is 'Hello' by Evanescence.

Chapter Eight:
Whisper

The night was cold and bitter, so befitting of the one man walking under its black expanse. Gabriel Van Helsing could not feel more at home with the night in those moments, even if he had been a vampire or a werewolf. He and the night were so alike at that time: frigid, bitter, and terribly empty from a terrible loneliness.

Why? Why did I say those things to Carl? He begged to himself and to his companion, the night. They both knew they answer; that image, that terrifyingly haunting image of Carl dying that night had driven him into madness.

His breath turned into a silvery mist, as evanescent as his happiness, and dissipated in the air. The town was almost behind him; he was on its seedy fringes, passing pubs and brothels. Once, a drunken whore latched onto him and tried to sell her wares. She had hair that could not decide whether it was blonde or red, and blue eyes that might once have shone happily but were now dulled by alcohol. It was like a perverse image of a female Carl. What led this woman down this path? Who betrayed her, sold her into this pit of misery? What if I drove Carl to this point? What if he's in some pub somewhere, drinking himself silly? He doesn't know his way around a fight when he's sober, he could get killed! Maybe even worse! God knows that where our world is concerned, there's always worse.

He shoved the whore away, perhaps harder than he meant to. She collapsed on the ground, and began to whine and yell. While the words were lost on his ears, they were not lost on the ears of one inside the pub she had staggered out of; the world grew suddenly foggy and dim as the prostitute's shouted words had been. There was the vague sense that something had hit both the front and back of his head- the back before the front -and then the coldness of the slick ground. On instinct, Gabriel hauled himself to his feet and whirled, hand on his pistol. A scruffy, inebriated man had hit the back of his head, knocked him to the ground. He too had blue eyes.

God, does the whole world suddenly have blue eyes just like Carl's? Or has my whole world suddenly become Carl so completely that I will see him everywhere now? the thought disturbed him. If his gut feeling was right and he would somehow be responsible for Carl's death, then very soon he might have to let his whole world go. He would not last two minutes without the Friar if he kept seeing his eyes, those soulful, beautiful, sparkling blue eyes, on every face.

The man- maybe he was the prostitute's pimp -aimed a clumsy but powerful right hook at Gabriel's jaw. He could have so easily blocked it, but allowed the strike to connect and send him to the ground once more. He deserved to be beaten into the ground until it ran red with the blood of his heart for treating Carl the way he did. Was that the way to treat so sweet, innocent, and loving a world?

Instinct kicked in again. The man only got one more strike- a savage kick in the ribs -in before Van Helsing fought back. It only took one well-aimed punch into the man's face to knock him out cold, and then he was on his way again. Staggering through the streets, Van Helsing was clutching the place on his ribs where he had been kicked and squinting his eyes in pain. But he wasn't so sure the pain was there. It was more in his heart, really. No, it was all over. His whole body, his whole heart, his whole soul, ached for Carl. A sharp pain, born of this ache, lanced down his spine and he collapsed against the wall of a building, breathing harshly.

"Carl... What have we done to each other? In so short a time, have we destroyed each other this much?" He asked the night air. It proved to be a silent companion; there was no answer from it. His body responded to the question with a fresh wave of pain, centered directly on his lower back. That always happened when he was under too much stress. His lower back would seize up in the worst pains and spasms[1] and he would be forced to stop. He had nothing at hand to stop the pain, not even adrenaline. At hand, that is. He could always crawl back to the inn and hope to find Carl waiting....

But no- onward, Fate compelled him. Van Helsing realized suddenly that he didn't even know mentally where the nest of vampires was, but his feet seemed to have the most precise idea of where to go. He surrendered himself to it. He wished for Carl, begged mentally for him to come and force him to lie down, command God to cease this madness known as Fate. Van Helsing knew that Carl could do that. What is there that a whole world cannot do? But as he thought this, another thought struck him. A dreadful, morbid one: his feet would not lead him back to Carl that night. He would not be going back by that road.

----
Catch me
As I fall
Say you're here
And it's all over now
----

He lost track of time, of everything, except for thoughts of Carl. Those clung to him like wet clothes; they fitted him well and snugly. But they were just the slightest bit uncomfortable; it is a terrible, unsettling pain to be thinking of something you know you can never have again. He knew it, too.

He knew a lot of things as his feet led him through the Transylvanian wilderness. He knew everything. He knew every emotion, every sensation, every laugh, every smile, every tear, and every word Carl had ever made him feel or say. And that, for him, was everything. Carl was everything. And, in that sense, he was happy that he was alone. Because if Carl had come, there was a chance of everything slipping away.

How profoundly their brief romance had changed him. Carl had to be the deadliest, stealthiest enemy Gabriel had faced yet. It had taken him only a few, soundless days to take over the whole world. Seeing this, Van Helsing realized that he could never truly be without Carl again, even if one of them was dead. He began to speak softly to the air around him- for that was Carl too. He begged forgiveness, declared love, murmured oaths, even laughing at some old jokes. But as he descended into the darkness of the underground lair he knew instinctively housed the vampires, he felt a sudden, crippling sickness in his gut.

Because he knew now... he was alone. Carl wasn't here, never would be. He had lost his mind, the world was no longer sane, no longer real. Carl was no longer real.

----
Speaking to the atmosphere
No one's here and I fall into myself...
This truth drives me
Into madness
----

Trembling, he stumbled through the darkness. He felt as thought he was about to fall apart. The dream was gone, Carl was not all around him. All around him was loneliness. He had driven his beloved little Friar away, and now he was all alone. It was all his fault.

"Calm yourself, Gabriel." He whispered to himself, pausing. He ran a shaking hand through his mocha colored hair. As he did so, he managed to relax. It was a motion Carl often went through, a motion that rang of Carl's love. He didn't feel so lonely now. Some nice memories had come to stay a while with him. "I really am losing my mind, aren't I?" He whispered sadly to himself. He took another deep breath and set off again. There was fire in his light, chestnut eyes. What was he thinking? Where was all this doomsday talk coming from? He was going to go in there, destroy those vampires, and then go back to Carl and beg forgiveness.

Or not. That nagging voice reminded him. He barely heard it in wake of the screams of the vampires.

He never stopped to count them. The Hunter burst out, and carried his thoughts away. One, a male, dove low over him. He threw himself onto the ground and drew both pistols, firing over his head as the vampire flew past him, trying to slow. The movement, normally fluid, felt odd to him. His whole body felt odd, twitchy. Like little spasms, invisible to the eye, were running through his muscles and jerking him every which way. It reminded him of what it had felt like to turn into a werewolf; that itchy, crawly feeling of tiny insects burrowing under your skin. This, however, didn't make him want to tear his skin off. It just made him want to curl up in a dark corner and let himself be overcome. Suddenly, things were slipping from his mind. His body still moved, still fought the vampires- he heard one die, not far away. But still his motions were jerky, rigid. Like he was trying to force his mind to remember motions that had once been second-nature.

Worse, he was starting to forget who he was. Why he was there. Whirling through the thick air, laced heavily with the scent of newly spilt blood, he allowed one of the vampires to knock him into a wall. Just as pain seared through his chest and back, a thought seared across his brain.

Love. He was loved.

He remembered then. He was Gabriel Van Helsing, Left Hand of God. He loved and was loved by a Friar named Carl.

That was, in fact, the worst part. Remembering. Because now he also knew, returning from that land of shadowy doubt, that he would forget again. He knew, as he came back, that he had indeed fallen. He felt it like a mark upon his skin: white-hot, burning for the whole world to see.

He was marked for death.

As the word death sounded through his head, three things happened. Another vampire, this one female, was killed by his silver bullets. She shrieked, writhed, and finally dissipated. One of her fellows screeched, although he couldn't tell from where. Sight went in and out for him, like he was forgetting how he was supposed to work his eyes. He didn't really need it anymore; an overwhelming instinct had taken vicious control of him. His body was wildly fighting against something, some foreign body that had slipped into his. He couldn't feel it, but it was there all the same.

The second thing to happen was a thought. Not a very important or large thought. Just a thought. A thought of him dying here tonight. It fled quickly; it was too afraid to stay.

The third thing to happen was another thought. This one was important, and very large. It was an epiphany, one that had beat in an endless refrain against his very soul all that night but seemed to new now. It was the thought of Carl dying.

It took every ounce of willpower he had to stop his body from seizing up in terror. God, it wasn't just him that was marked for death. This whole night was. He struggled with another vampire, a second male who fought with a sword. Van Helsing's movements were less than perfect; his thrusts and parries and feints were choppy at best. It added a frantic quality to their deadly dance, and reminded one of a man fighting for his life. All the while, that image of Carl dying added further determination, further fear into it. He wouldn't let him die. He did know how this fight would decide the Friar's fate, but he knew that it would. Concentrating on it was almost too distracting; because of the cause he was fighting for, he was almost destroying it.

If I can just stop thinking of that image and get through this fight, just one more fight, I can get back to Carl. I need to fight both them... and my own mind.

----
I know I can stop the pain
If I will it all away
If I will it all away
----

The vampire struck down, his sword a gleaming silver arc. Gabriel's caught it, an action that caused both weapons to ring and vibrate. Actions really were louder than words; but somewhere in the room, he could hear softly whispered ones, faint as drizzling raindrops, but consistent. A chant, almost. His opponent disengaged his sword and swung down to his right, as though he would chop him in half. Gabriel leapt to the left and brought his sword down to parry the other sword down towards his calf. His current enemy thus engaged, he drew his silver stake and thrust it towards the vampiress leaping in on his left. As it struck her, he activated it. Soon, there was nothing but dust beside him.

As their kind always did, the remaining vampires shrieked in mourning. But yet he could still hear that low, whispered voice. It was direct, insistent, almost like it was.... speaking to him?

He turned his head to look over his shoulder. There, in the back of the room, stood a vampiress and a male beside her. She was bent over an altar, her hands gripping the sides until the wood began to splinter. She was reading from a book....

He had no time for further thought. A sword smashing into one's temple will generally make all such creatures dash away in fright. Consciousness almost eloped with them, but eh clung fiercely to its trailing threads. He had fallen tot he ground, a steady trickle of blood falling likewise from his temple. A swift kick to the wrist disarmed him of his weapon, but he had more than one anyway. The remaining vampires were gathering to one side; a rather stupid idea, if he said so himself. But, since actions still speak louder than words, he let his Tojo blades do the talking.

Van Helsing rolled, the blades extended and chirring devilishly as they sliced through flesh and bone, taking both legs out from under three vampires. Before they could renew them, Van Helsing was on his feet and upon them again. Severed heads were not their specialty; all three perished.

And still the chanting.

He tried to listen to the words- what was it, Latin? -but that didn't turn out so well. Once more the creatures of the night were wailing for their fallen. It was a poignant touch, he thought, but one he couldn't fully appreciate since it only made it harder for him to kill them. It made him think that they might actually have loves and friends too. But I must sacrifice them to see my love again....

The chanting continued as he reengaged the swordsman with fury unquenched. Their blades rang and whined, almost buckling under the pressure of their strikes and blocks. The chanting grew more intense; once more, his body seemed to seize up and he lost track of his identity. Yet still he could not decipher it. In some ways, he was too afraid to.

The swordsman caught him in a lock, shoved him to the ground with the flat of his own blade against his neck. The vampire snarled with something akin to glee and raised his sword high above his head to cleave Gabriel's in half. Lightness flooded him, perhaps in preparation of his soul's departure, and with that lightness came memories. Carl, the whole of his world and his soul, dominated them all. All their times together flew by him; he supposed that was his life, flashing before his eyes, and ended in that image of Carl with a bloody hole in his chest. His blue eyes- God, those blue eyes.... -were still and lightless.

The light, rising sensation in him faded. Van Helsing blocked and shoved the vampire off him, reversing their positions.

He was not going to give in.

----
Don't turn away
(Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide
(Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes
(God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light
(Never sleep, never die)
----

His sword cut an angry line of black from one side of the vampire's neck to the other. The creature burst into dust, wild disbelief in his eyes. At the very last instant, they turned to blue... and there was relief.

I'm saving him! Van Helsing thought with wild joy. Carl will be alright!

He might be alright too, his mind continued eagerly. The vampires had stopped attacking.

But then it occurred to him. The vampires had stopped attacking.

Van Helsing jumped swiftly to his feet, sword bouncing as lightly in his hand as he bounced on the balls of his feet, looking around. On the ceiling? No. To his left? No. To his right? No.

Then he heard the chanting, building once more.

They were straight in front of him.

Two vampires were on either side of the chanting vampiress, and one larger male stood behind her. He knew instantly that they were the ones who would kill Carl. They were the would-be murderers. He hefted his sword up, allowing it to rest just in front of his face, as he advanced. Something about them insisted that he approach them slowly; they frightened him.

The four vampire guards each raised a hand. Whether they were halting him or beckoning him, he didn't know. The gesture and their faces were hard to read. Whether he was obeying or disregarding them, he crept forward like one in a trance. He was a in a trance, dazed by fear. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew this wasn't over yet.

----
I'm frightened
By what I see
But somehow I know
That there's much more to come
----

He quickly changed his mind about it not being over.

His crossbow was out, its bolts screaming across the room in a dazzling display of Carl's genius and Gabriel's fearsome prowess. Within seconds, it was almost over. Within seconds, all but the chanting vampiress were dead, even the large male vampire whom he had assumed to be the leader Jinette had warned him of. Gabriel thought that the Cardinal might have over-exaggerated him, and sent them on this mission thinking- or perhaps knowing -that it would be the death of one of them.

It was getting rather irritating, his thoughts being cut off by screaming vampires. But somehow, there was an agony in the vampiress's scream that inexplicably reminded Gabriel of himself. Because even though she was torn apart by loss, she was still chanting through her scream. She was still fighting him, and for the ones she had loved, as he fought for Carl. Overcome, he allowed his crossbow to fall to the ground.

Soon, I will cry too. Soon, I will either lose Carl... or myself.

----
Immobilized
By my fear
And soon to be
Blinded by tears
----

Van Helsing drew his sword once more and began his advance anew. Both chanting and screaming had stopped; from a few feet away, the vampiress watched him with a mixture of hatred and triumph. She did not flinch as he drew within striking distance. Once more, he was reminded of himself, refusing to give in, fighting for those he loved. Willing to sacrifice everything for his safety, as she was willing to sacrifice everything for their vengeance.

"The spell is almost complete. Strike me and it will happen." She warned with a snarl. She didn't need to tell him what 'it' was. He knew it without it being said. His body had already screamed it to him.

But still Gabriel paused, if just for a moment. Just one, sweet moment of thought. It hurt terribly to be so swept away, to have such a wild loss of control, to run on pure, thoughtless, bloodlusting instinct. But now he could think. There were thoughts of death.... and life. Two opposites, a duality both amazing and deadly. The ultimate mystery. He thought that when the day arrived, the day when he would stand on the very border of those two things, he would at last begin to understand their mystery. But he didn't now. And that was fine. He didn't need to understand.

He thought of life. Of letting her go free, and returning to Carl. The Friar would forgive him, comfort him for his defeat and help him find another way, even if there was none. Sweet, brilliant Carl. He would make another way, just for them. But then he saw that other way: he saw Carl lying dead.

There is a balance to this crazy world after all. He thought. I live, he dies. I die...

Gabriel Van Helsing never finished the thought. His heart knew it without it being said.

He would strike the balance.

He charged.

----
Fallen angels at my feet
Whispered voices at my ear
Death before my eyes
Lying next to me I fear
She beckons me- shall I give in?
Upon my end shall I begin?
Forsaking all I've fallen for
I rise to meet the end...
----

A/N-- [1] No lie. Whenever I'm under a serious amount of stress, especially when I'm holding it in like Gabriel was, I can barely move because of the pain in my back.

I really trimmed down on that last section. To understand what I took out, why I left his thought off at 'I die...,' you really have to look at the last few lines of the song. I think I probably could have trimmed down more elsewhere; that whole chapter felt a teensy bit overdone. But I leave tomorrow and I really wanted to get this done for yall. Try not to kill me?

But where does it go from here...? That is the question. Hehe hehehe.... review and you may find out....