The Curse of Immortality Chapter 3: The Ball, a van helsing fanfic

Disclaimer: I still do not own any of the Van Helsing characters and other technical things related to the movie.

Carl and Diana walked into the brilliantly lit and extravagantly decorated ball room. Carl wore a black tuxedo complete with a top hat (he never looked so handsome), while Diana was stuck with a frilly gown with a rather low-cut collar that accented her bosom a little too much for her comfort. A waltz ended as they entered, and Diana involuntarily migrated towards the nearest source of food and refreshment.

Slightly confused and concerned, Carl inquired, "What are you doing?"

"Do you know why I ran away from home?" she questioned, nibbling nervously on a slice of ham. When Carl didn't answer, Diana continued, "I hated the aristocratic lifestyle. The joy of parties and celebrations was tainted by at least one person, who was only there to ingratiate himself with members of the higher class in order to steal from their fortunes. It was always about money and never enjoying life."

"So you became a monster hunter? How is that enjoying life?" Carl pressed.

"I was a healer before I came here, and it was only recently that the cardinal sent me to the field," she snapped back.

"I was only fooling," the friar muttered.

Diana sighed. "I know.'

"How did you learn to fight?" he continued, rather intrigued.

"My friends in Africa. It's a harsh continent; you have to know how to defend yourself against the elements," Diana replied, now fiddling with the cream lace that trimmed the sleeves of her dark maroon dress. If the Order wanted her to go to a party, they could have given her a nicer dress instead of one that their grandmother might have worn.

Just then, a sudden strange movement from out of the corner of Diana's eye caught her attention. "Excuse me, Carl. I need to go freshen up."

"But we just arrived-"

"Just go find Van Helsing," she interrupted, and then walked away.

Just as Diana turned around she noticed a dark figure exit through one of the back ball room doors, and followed it. If it was, indeed, the mysterious killer, Diana found it to be impractical for him to wear black. With the various colors of the party, the stranger looked rather egregious and would surely be suspected.

The door opened up into a small dark hallway, and though fear clouded her heart, it was wild curiosity that controlled her mind, pushing her further down the hallway until she was swallowed up in darkness. A crisp draft swept through the hall, chilling Diana's pale skin and fueling her fear. She felt something brush against her back, causing her to instinctively spin around as a strand of ebony hair fell out of the bun that Carl (and a few others) strained to make perfect.

"Who's there?" she asked the darkness of the room she had now entered.

There was no reply and it was to dark to see proof of anyone in the room.

Having finally satisfied her curiosity, Diana quickly but cautiously made her way back to the door. She was relieved to hear the sound of the orchestra from the other side of the door and the handle. She opened the door and light showered her as she re-entered. But and unsettling feeling washed over her as a deep echoing whisper from the dark hallway uttered, "Diana."

"Diana!" Van Helsing called, striding up to her. "Where did you go? Carl told me you ran off."

"Don't be so protective. I was merely inspecting for any suspicious activity. Speaking of which, have you discovered anything?" Diana inquired.

"No. Not anything we don't already know, at least. Nobody knows anything about what he looks like, what his name is, where to find him, where he is from. The trail is cold," he informed her.

"Do you think we should leave?" Diana wondered, hopefully.

"No, but as the party comes to a close, you can go out front to monitor the guests leaving, Carl will remain inside, and I'll go back to my post behind the palace," he replied.

"Oh, Mr. Van Helsing, you are too kind," she said, her words drenched with sarcasm.

He smiled and shrugged. "You know me all too well."

Diana childishly stuck her tongue out at the monster slayer and turned to go join Carl. At least he could try to keep her mind off her past life.

"Anything new?" the friar asked.

Diana shook her head. "Nothing," she replied dismally. A moment of unsure silence passed between them; then Diana finally spoke again, "Tell me about Count Dracula."

Carl looked slightly upward at his partner. "But you've heard about him dozens of times."

"Tell me about his appearance. If it is Dracula we're against, then I need to know what he looks like," she pressed.

"Oh, very well," he sighed. "Dracula was a rather fearsome creature. He had eyes that burned red with the very fires of hell and his sickly pale skin and black hair reflected the cold dark emptiness of his damned heart. This dangerous beast, with ghastly wings that were larger than anything man has ever seen and claws that could tear a man clean in half with one fell stroke, was forced to drink the blood of humans to sustain his wretched form of life, and his three equally monstrous wives assisted him on these strange hunts." Carl paused, noticing the expression of disinterest written all over Diana's face. "What?"

"You've had a long time to practice this, haven't you? Your story-telling skills have certainly improved, but I don't want to know about his eating habits or love life. I want to know what he looks like," she reiterated.

"I just told you what he looked like."

"What you described was a monster that was more fairy-tale than it was fact," Diana criticized.

"Look, I've told you what I know. If you don't believe me, then the only thing I can do is ask you to dance," Carl explained.

Diana stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"We're at a party, aren't we? We might as well dance," he offered.

Diana scoffed. "You expect me to know how to dance?"

"You didn't run away from home till you were sixteen. Sixteen years is long enough to learn how to dance. You're bound to remember something," he calculated.

"Oh, fine," she conceded, taking Carl's hand as he led her to the dance floor.

The twirled around the room along with the other couples (though they were probably the only couple in which the woman was slightly taller that the man). Diana never really saw the point in dancing. Some people saw it as a way to express themselves, but how would one do so when the dance seemed so uniformed? Everyone was always dancing the same way. How could there be expression through sameness?

Luckily for Diana, the minutes flew by and the guests began to make their way home, so she made her way to the front, where she could keep an eye on the attendants. It was rather dull, waiting out in the cold for something to happen, while party-goers continued their gossip and eventually said their good-byes. They soon all left, and Van Helsing and Carl joined her.

"You look tired," Van Helsing commented. "Carl, you and Diana can go back to the inn and get some rest. I'm going to stay her a bit longer."

"All right, but don't stay up too late. You need your sleep as well," Carl warned, helping a drowsy Diana down the steps to an awaiting carriage.

"Don't worry. I won't," he assured them. "Good night."

A/N: Well, it was longer, but had no action. I'm sorry. The next one will actually have some good action in it. I appreciate the review (sniffles at the fact that I didn't get more...you can tell me it sucks, i don't mind! :-) ). If I were to tell u who that bad guy was it would give away everything! (well not everything, but I would lose another chance to surprise my audience...i luv surprising my audience!)