Alrighty, bring in the sappy dialouge! Don't know if this chapie is so spiff, but I'd like to dedicate all of Carl's pillow-beating to RandomBattle cry, cuz she's really the one who gave me the idea. Oh, i want to apolize for Dracula's absence in this chapter, but it just got too long. He'll be back, i promise
An Argument and several realizations
Carl hadn't thought he had fallen asleep, but over the past forty-eight hours the only sleep he had gotten had lasted a whole of fifteen minutes. He awakened with a snort and bumped his head against something hard. Apparently he had fallen asleep under the desk.
Thomas wandered into the library, an excited and scared look on his face. It immediately turned into a mask of guilty mirth when he saw Carl crawling out from underneath the desk. Before he could utter whatever biting comment he had in store for the poor friar, Ashian stormed into the tower, shortly followed by Van Helsing. The two of them went to separate corners of the room, obviously having just disengaged from an argument.
"Umm, I suppose Dracula gave you a rough time?" This came from Thomas; Carl wasn't stupid enough not to recognize an angry monster hunter when he saw one, and there were two angry monster hunters in the area. For all his intelligence, Thomas was perhaps the most naive and witless person on the face of the earth.
"Dracula was a walk in the park compared to a certain abomination I could speak of!" Ashian shouted for extra measure, even though Van Helsing could have heard her just fine. Her clothes were dried, but hung raggedly, her hair had come completely out of its tie, and she had dark circles under her eyes. The whole effect made her look like something a vampire had bitten and left to die. Oh wait, that had already happened to her, seven times.
"Oh, burn in hell." Van Helsing took another swing out of a bottle of liquor he had grabbed from the bar on his way in.
"Oh my, Van Helsing, twenty years has done so much for your intelligence. Not only have you managed to bungle the one chance at information that I had, you have also come up with a witty and cutting retaliation as well as kept in mind the whole reason we were separated in the first place!" Turning on her heal, she turned on Carl. "I'm going to Dracula's lair. When he sobers up tell him I threw myself off a cliff just for the irony!"
Before Carl could say anything she swept out of the room, closely followed by Thomas, who gave her the entire history of the ice-portal-mirror that was in the weapons hall. He also proceeded to tell her why she use it instead of a horse, but she had already figured that our by the time he was done explaining why it had been set up in the first place.
Great, Carl was stuck in Valerious tower with a drunken Van Helsing. And not only was he inebriated, he was livid. Carl said a quick prayer, asking for protection and a reminder why he had ever decided to become a friar, and then approached the intoxicated brute.
"You, Van Helsing, are quite possibly the most stupid, brainless, self-centered bastard it had ever been my misfortune to meet!" Carl swiped the alcohol bottle out of Van Helsing's hand and hit him upside the head with it. He tossed the two thirds full bottle onto the fire and began to beat Van Helsing with a pillow.
Van Helsing grabbed the offending pillow out of Carl's hands and attempted to gag him with it. However, Carl's mouth might be big, but not only would the pillow not fit, Van Helsing was too drunk to get his aim right. When he finally established that the pillow would not fit in Carl's mouth, he grudgingly stalked down to where he and Carl were supposedly using as sleeping quarters, but actual sleeping had yet to be done.
Ashian stood in front of the mirror that in theory led to Dracula's castle while Thomas prattled on. With an exasperated sigh, she turned to face him, inadvertently showing her anger with extended fangs and glowing red eyes. Thomas shut up immediately, but Ashian didn't know why, because her reflection was just a mist on the mirror. If her heart had still been beating, she was sure it would have burst, but as that was no longer a problem she needed to worry about, she could find no way to dissuade herself that she would be in no danger - lethal, at least – at Hunedora Castle. ((F.Y.I. Dracula was a real person and even though Hunedora isn't in the middle of an icy sea, I'll use the name anyway))
She reached a tentative hand forward, and smiled in satisfaction and surprise when it slid through. Before she could loose her nerve she stepped through with one last warning glance to Thomas.
I hope by now I have established that despite his immense amount of book learning, Thomas Elkins has a one digit I.Q. when it comes to human interaction and the body language thereof. That being said, Thomas stepped through the mirror right after Ashian. And not only was he stupid enough to follow, he was also enough of a lack-wit to announce their presence to the entire castle by shouting at Ashian.
"Wait up! Have you no sense? No plan as to how to kill Dracula? You must be very distressed, but worry not, I will help you." Ashian stopped dead in her tracks, yet another sign Thomas failed to interpret.
"Thomas," Ashian whispered through clenched teeth. "Turn around before you come to serious harm."
Thomas mistook (once again) her anger for concern. "Oh, you need not worry about me. I can take care of myself. It is you, my dear, who has my concerns."
Ashian lost it. She dove toward Thomas, her skin turning an icy blue, wings sprouting up from her body, fangs extended and eyes glowing red. Thomas fell backward in fear, but it did nothing to save him. Ashian fell upon him and broke his neck with an awful cracking sound. Her fingernails raked his body, leaving awful trenches in his skin.
She was about to fall on his neck, in fact her jaw had begun to unhook, when she found herself again. Her skin reverted to its natural color, her teeth shrank, wings folded and her eyes became their normal hazel. She looked upon Thomas Elkins' dead body, glassy eyes and deep gashes marring his pale figure. Blood still flowed from the wounds, dying the pale snow crimson, as if to mark the place forever.
"Dear lord, what have I done?" Ashian stumbled backward, tripping on a decayed corpse. She lie in a crumpled heap, sobbing uncontrollably, and remembered her first innocent death.
Ashian, a girl of sixteen years, stared down at the body. She had been a nun, a holy daughter of god, that had been stolen away by a gargoyle and taken to its nest. Ashian and Van Helsing had attacked the nest, killing everything in it, including the captive nun. She hardly looked human with her skin shrunken in and her hair torn in uneven patches, but she had been human nonetheless. And it had been Ashian who delivered the killing blow.
A warm hand wiped the tears from Ashian's face. She turned to see Van Helsing behind her, pity and pain shining in his eyes. Hurting for her, he wordlessly drew her in and wrapped her in his arms.
"Oh Gabriel, what have I done?" Ashian sunk gratefully into Van Helsing's arms.
He took a deep breath before answering. "I am sorry for you, but if you continue this line of work, many innocents will get killed on your behalf. Just think of those that you have saved instead." He gently caressed her hair as he spoke.
"I can't do this, Gabriel. Not alone." Tears broke her speech patterns.
Van Helsing didn't know how to respond, but he wanted to comfort her even so. So he spoke, even when he knew he shouldn't. "Ashian, I promise that as long as there is breath in my body that you will never be truly alone. I promise." Instinctively he drew her chin upward and kissed her. At first she fell willingly into the spell of romance, but pushed him away sooner than he would have liked.
"You promised! You promised I'd never be alone! I AM alone! You promised! You promised!" Ashian sobbed, her shouts growing quieter. With one last gasp of "You promised me," she slipped back into the memory.
"Gabriel…" Ashian trailed off, unsure of how to voice her feelings.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." Van Helsing added, "But I wanted to."
"Gabriel, are you out of your mind?" Ashian punched him square in the jaw.
"What was that for? A gentleman kisses you and you punch him? No wonder Jack didn't want to dance with you!" Van Helsing rubbed his jaw in an attempt to suppress a grin.
"First off, you are no gentleman. Second …Gabriel, this would be too incredibly complicated. I… I can't." Ashian's fist curled and uncurled, debating whether to punch him or kiss him.
"Ashian, WATCH IT!" A gargoyle came diving from the treetops at Ashian's back. Van Helsing shoved her away and fired several rounds at the beast, killing it almost instantly. The body fell on the still firing gun, causing it to fire down where Ashian had been sprawled. It clipped her back, leaving several streaks of blood in the curve of her body.
"Van Helsing, you are a bastard." Ashian gasped while she attempted to staunch the bleeding.
"I'm sorry. Here let me help." Van Helsing had never had the healing hand, and his attempts only made the wounds hurt more.
"Ouch." Ashian bit back the pain and shoved him roughly back. "Van Helsing, what's wrong with you? You're being nice, and it scares me." There was a pause, and then Ashian spoke again, the words coming unbidden. "I'm not ready. Please, can't we be friends?"
Van Helsing's younger voice was husky with emotion. "Just friends?"
Ashian gently stroked Van Helsing's cheek, kissed him lightly, and said, "Yes, just friends."
That night Van Helsing got drunk; really drunk. Ashian turned him over to the nurse, and that's when the real problems began.
Ashian's sobs began anew, but stopped abruptly when a cold hand stroked her hair. She looked up and found Sonwaja smiling cruelly at her.
"Welcome, my dear. My master said you would come, and lo and behold, I find you at our doorstep. Could I invite you inside, perhaps get you a drink?" Sonwaja's mouth quirked at her joke, but it only made Ashian grimace.
"Dracula knew I would come?" Ashian let the frightened note shine in her voice. There is no lying to a vampire.
"Yes, it is always the same with his experiments and pets. They think they can stand firm, but he has yet to find one who can resist his will. He hopes that you will be different, but I doubt it. So far you have shown little improvement over the others." Sonwaja led Ashian into the castle and up a flight of stairs while she spoke. Her topic drifted to more grisly things that I have elected not to record.
Ashian listened to only some of what Sonwaja said. She felt like a little child, and if Sonwaja had not kept her icy grip on Ashian's hand she surely would have gotten lost. Eventually they came to a majestic and gruesome library with beautiful tapestries on the walls, marvelous weapons of old in cases, tomes older than Dracula on mahogany tables, and everything, and I mean everything, decorated with human bones. There was a soft sofa sitting in front of a roaring fireplace, and indeed it was this particular nook that Sonwaja led Ashian to. But the fire held no warmth for Ashian's frozen skin, nor happiness that comes from the glow of a fire, but rather chilled her further and set her in a mood of deeper despair.
"Why do you bring me here?" Of all the questions Ashian had wanted to ask of the bride, it was the only one that came to mind.
"It is personally my favorite room in Hunedora Castle; I thought that you would enjoy it. If you'd rather the old laboratory or the tower you are welcome to them. Of course there is also the dungeon, the torture room, my master's personal chambers, and the tower, only to name a few." Sonwaja poured herself a glass of something beyond Ashian's view. When she came back, Ashian was disgusted.
"Is that blood?" She watched in horror as Sonwaja sipped it like a fine lady would sip a select after-dinner wine.
"Why yes, would you like some?" Ashian shook her head in a morbid fascination. "Oh, but you must try it eventually, your existence depends on it." Sonwaja let the subject drop and waved to the library as if to tell Ashian to look around. Because she didn't want to make small talk with the bride, she swallowed her disgust and looked at several of the slightly less disturbed tomes.
"Van Helsing, you brute, wake up!" Carl beat Van Helsing over the head with another throw pillow. Van Helsing was currently in the throes of a hangover, and merely rolled over on the bed he had collapsed on. This not only encouraged Carl to continue the beating, he climbed onto the bed and began to kick Van Helsing out. The monster hunter landed with a heavy thud on the floor and groaned rather loudly. He still refused to get up, however, which convinced Carl (not that he needed much of an excuse) that dumping a pitcher of water over the sleeping man might wake him up. It did.
Van Helsing jumped up and chased Carl back to the tower library. Both men were panting considerably, seeing as Carl's feet had been gifted with the flight of fear and Van Helsing spent quite a bit of time running to and fro.
"Carl," Said Van Helsing, panting and stopping for air every few syllables, "Do that – again – and I swear – you'll be picking your – teeth off the floor."
"Well, fine. But I wouldn't have had to do that if you hadn't gotten so miserably drunk. And you wouldn't have gotten so miserably drunk if you and Ashian hadn't gotten in a fight. And if you and Ashian hadn't gotten in a fight she wouldn't have gone to Hunedora Castle – I mean, thrown herself off a cliff for the irony." Technically Ashian had never told him not to tell Van Helsing where she had gone, just as long as he told the brute she had thrown herself off a cliff.
"SHE DID WHAT?!" Needless to say, Van Helsing was bellowing despite the fact that Carl was only about three feet away.
"Well, all things considered, this is your fault." Carl kept his voice calm, trying very hard not to squeak or sound smug.
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Van Helsing was still yelling, but by the time he finished his sentence he had sunk wretchedly onto the blue couch and had lowered his volume.
"The obvious thing, of course. Go and get her back, you prat." Carl came around from the desk that had been protecting him from Van Helsing and pulled a stool in front of his friend.
"I can't do that." Van Helsing's head was in his hands.
"And why not?"
"Because… just because, alright?" Van Helsing was often blunt in the way he said things, which very rarely left him at a loss for words.
"Because you're afraid Ashian will ask questions you don't have answers for? Because you're afraid that you'll see her and lose all control? Because you can't handle seeing her without wanting to hold her? And because you're afraid that if you hold her just once you won't want to let go?" They were set as questions, but Carl already knew the answers.
"Yes," Van Helsing whispered. "How could you know?"
Carl grinned. "You've said it yourself, I'm a genius. But it doesn't take a genius to read you and Ashian like the Sunday post."
Van Helsing stood and began to pick up discarded weapons. "Alright, if I'm so transparent, what am I thinking now?"
"Um, 'I'm going to kill the friar'?" Carl winced.
"No; 'I'm going to kill Dracula and then the friar.'"