Author's Notes: Well, here I am. I don't own Van Helsing, unfortunately. That's a full-fledged tragedy, right there… But, anyway… Here's one of many, many, many VH stories I've thought up at one time or another (I think it was thirty-something at last count…). Ah, yes, I remember my very first VH fanfic… I thought it was so awesome… But, anyway, that's a conversation for another time. Anyway, on with the show—er… Fic!
Chapter One:
The locks on the door finally broke as one final clap of thunder sounded. As the door swung open, the woman slowly walked into the ramshackle room, trying her best not to step on any floorboards that would creak loudly, or, at worst, break. Raindrops fell rapidly through tons of holes in the ceiling, and the room shook with every blow of the wind.
'This building's really showing its age,' Scarlette Lucian thought, smiling to herself. But her smile soon faded as she investigated the shadowy areas of the room; all she found were cobwebs and dust inches thick. There were obviously no vampires in the room.
"Bryce, you idiot," she muttered to herself, "did you even have a clue what you were talking about?"
Earlier that day, her fiancée, Bryce Denton, had rushed up to her, out of breath and paler than normal.
"Scarlette!" he yelled, "Scarlette!She turned to him, a bit startled. "Bryce! What is it?"
Bryce gripped her shoulder, catching his breath. "Scarlette… The old house… Seventeenth Street… vampires…"
Scarlette stared at her fiancée, skeptical. "Well, Bryce, if there are vampires there, why didn't you take care of it? You know how, you taught me!"
He let go of her shoulder and stood up straight. "Whatever are you talking about, Darling? Of course I took care of the problem."
She looked him up and down. "How? You're completely unprepared. You don't even have a gun."
Bryce looked her straight in the eye, "Exactly."
Scarlette had prepared, and had left, later. And her journey had brought her to this. Taking one final glance around the room, while listening closely, she shook her head and made her way toward the door, rain falling onto her head, soaking her black braid. However, something stopped her, something she hadn't seen before. There, sitting on a table off to the side, was a table. And on the table were two things: A book and a candle. Scarlette, intrigued, cautiously walked over to the table. Staring at the book, she took a match out of the pocket of her black duster and struck it, getting a flame. She lit the candle, and looked at the book again.
Nothing had changed at all. Gabriel Van Helsing was indeed too weak, as was his friar ally. The Dragulia siblings were forever united once more under the moon, and they knew their father would be very proud. They smiled softly to one another and transformed, flying off into the night. They drew blood, and took mates, and bred. Once more, vampires were taking over. They would soon have full reign.
"What is this…?" Scarlette wondered aloud. There was nothing else written on the page. Was it a story? Was it a journal? Fiction? Nonfiction? A prank? Reality? There was something that struck her interest, however, and that was a name. Her finger found its way to the name "Gabriel Van Helsing" and lightly circled it. 'And the name 'Dragulia…' she thought, 'Why does that sound so familiar to me?"
Instantly, she knew that this slice of information wouldn't satisfy her; she needed more. As if she were afraid of tearing the pages, Scarlette carefully flipped the page back once.
There was nothing written there.
"Well, that doesn't make sense," Scarlette murmured, "Why would they start an ending in the middle of a book?"
She flipped the page to where she had begun.
The writing had disappeared.
'What?! I could have sworn…'
Scarlette was certain she was only seeing things. Forgetting about ripping the pages, she flipped through it madly, unaware of the wind that was emitting from them. Suddenly, the book slammed shut, and all she saw was black.
---
"Carl, I told you. There's not a dead woman back here! I've been back here twice today and—"
"No, I swear, I just saw her—there she is."
Skeptical, the man looked at where his friend was pointing. Sure enough, there was a woman laying there, in the mud, by the river. And, she did appear to be dead.
"My God…" the man was speechless.
"I—I guess she drowned. Perhaps suicide. But, besides that, what should we do with her? Should we bury her? Should we leave her here, what should—Van Helsing, what are you doing?"
The man known as Van Helsing had knelt down next to the body. He pushed her thick, dark braid behind her shoulder, and did the same with a strange lock of violet colored hair. "I'm checking for a pulse."
Suddenly, the woman sat up. The friar gasped and ran into a tree. "She's alive!"
"Of course I'm alive," she said. Her hand instantly shot to her head. "Ouch! What the hell happened?"
Van Helsing stood, offering his hand to the woman. "I'm not quite sure. Carl found you lying here, earlier."
The woman took his hand and stood up. "Carl, who's Carl?"
"I'm Carl. But the question is, who are you?"
The woman glanced over to where Carl was leaning against a tree. "Me? My name is Scarlette Lucian, and I'm a vampire slayer."
"Oh, really?" Van Helsing inquired. "So am I. Except I don't just limit myself to vampires. I'm Gabriel Van Helsing, it's nice to meet you."
Scarlette glanced at him, eyes widened. "No! No you're not! You can't be! Gabriel Van Helsing's just a myth, nowadays. You all should know that, it's 2005!"
Carl and Van Helsing exchanged odd glances. "No, it's not…" they said.
"Alright, guys. Stop with the jokes," she told them.
"What jokes?" Carl asked, "You're not in 2005. You're in 1893."
Scarlette swallowed hard and grabbed onto Van Helsing's shoulder for balance. "What?"
"I said, 'You're in 1893.'"
"I heard you," she said. "There are two kinds of 'what?" you know. There's a 'what?' like 'What did you say? I didn't hear you,' and then there's a 'what?' like 'What?! I don't believe you.'"
The man whose shoulder Scarlette was holding looked at her. "And I assume you meant the latter?"
Scarlette nodded.
"Are you sure that fall you took didn't make you mentally unstable?" the friar asked.
Scarlette let go of Van Helsing's shoulder and glared at Carl. "I didn't take a fall, and my mind is perfectly stable, thank you very much!"
"Then how did you get here?" Van Helsing asked.
She threw up her arms in effect of not knowing. "I don't know! All I remember was that my fiancée told me to go to this building and slay the vampires there. But there weren't any vampires, so I was leaving, until I came across this book. I don't know if it was a journal, or what. But I started reading it. But when I turned to the beginning, there were no words. And when I flipped back to where I started, there were no words, either. And that's the last thing I remember before everything went black, and I woke up here."
"Mysterious time travel…?" Carl questioned, under his breath.
Van Helsing, however, seemed more interested in something else than in the point of Scarlette's rant. "So, um, Scarlette, is it? Alright, you said there was a book. Did it say anything peculiar that suggested time travel in any way, like a spell book or such?"
Scarlette thought a moment, then shook her head. "No, it didn't."
"What did it say?"
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of telling him the truth. But, she finally settled on it. "Actually, um… It told of your death. And Carl's. Yes, it mentioned Carl. You were to be killed by the three 'Dragulia' siblings, who I take were vampires and—"
"Dragulia?" Carl interrupted.
"Yes, Dragulia."
Once again, Carl and Van Helsing exchanged glances, this time worried.
"Maybe your fiancée was right," Van Helsing said quietly, "maybe there were vampires in that building. Just not at the time you were looking."
Scarlette looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"In fact, I'm not even sure. But, maybe, just maybe, the events taking place in that book you read, if it's even true, happened in that building. Your fiancée may have felt their presence there, and went to notify you."
"Does that really make sense, Van Helsing?" the friar inquired.
"It makes perfect sense!" the woman defended.
Van Helsing and Carl raised eyebrows.
"I believe in ghosts!" Scarlette defended her statement. "Don't you, Van Helsing? As a self-proclaimed 'vanquisher of evil,' I'd be honestly surprised if you didn't."
Gabriel shrugged. "I've never thought about it before…"
It was a rather awkward silence as the three merely stood around, watching one another.
"I want to help you," Van Helsing said, "But I just don't know how."
Carl intruded, "Actually, Van Helsing, we'll have to figure that out after we get back to Rome. I received a message from Cardinal Jinette, he wants you back in Rome as soon as possible."
Van Helsing glanced from Scarlette to Carl, back and forth. "You… You mean… Take her with us?!"
"Is that a problem?" Scarlette asked, placing her hands on her hips.
"N-no… Not really… I was just…"
Carl shrugged. "See, it's no problem. Come along, when we get to Rome, we'll sort this out. In the meantime…" the friar stared at the woman's mud-caked clothes and hair, "we'll need to make you look a bit more presentable."
Scarlette nodded, hesitated a moment, then followed.