Poenari, Walachia
Three years later
The ancient crumbling castle was quiet, save for the footsteps of a man dressed in black. His glove clad hands held a pair of custom-built silver automatics, design derived from the Luger P08, but the modifications were very obvious. Longer barrel by half-an-inch, along with heat-sinks at the ends and intricate designs that resembled runes and symbols all over the body of the weapons.
Brown leather boots crunched on the small rocks that had fallen from the walls of the castle. His black Duster overcoat flowed with the moment of his steps with several sections of what appeared to be padding built in, while hanging from the right side of his brown vest was a golden chain with several gold and silver religious symbols dangling from it. His upper face was covered by the shadow from his wide-brim black hat, long light brown hair spread over his shoulders. But for anyone who cared to look under the hat, bright lit blue eyes shined like stars, almost pulsing.
And in those eyes was purpose. His quarry was here, though where in this place known as Castle Dracula was the question. No doubt, the person he hunted was making haste to preform whatever unholy ritual was needed to resurrect the devil known as Vlad Tepes; Dracula. And since the man in black had seen to the death of that horrible being once already, he was not all that anxious to face him again.
"Mister Renfield!" he cried. It gave away all pretense of stealth, but it was perhaps better to draw his prey out to him. Certainly, it would save him the trouble of searching this entire crumbling ruin. "We need to talk!"
There was a shuffling sound from above. Turning, the man raised his guns, ears able to hear the faintest noise. And then, he caught the low breathing, the sound of a man's heartbeat. Renfield was here, no question about it, and he sounded nervous. "I promise that if you surrender now, I will grant you mercy."
"And what of the Master!" came the hoarse reply. It came from the upper levels, definitely, and if the owner of that voice kept talking, it would be no problem to track down where he was hiding. "He will grant no such mercy if I fail him now!"
Yes, Renfield's master. That was without a doubt the core problem of this situation. "Mister Renfield," he continued, now holstering his weapons. "Your master must not be allowed to walk this earth again. That's why I killed him four decades ago."
A crass snort, and a laugh. "Yes," the voice hissed. "You know all about killing in the name of God, don't you, Van Helsing!"
"So he has heard," the man muttered. Sometimes, he wondered if having his massive reputation was indeed worth it. In some places, it was a boon, when people heard his name and looked to him with admiration, respect. But in others, it was a less than desirable response; hate, fear, and the desire to arrest him, in the few cases like Ireland and France.
But all in all, the reputation was well earned, or at least, the parts that were true. Gabriel Van Helsing was many things, but a murderer was not one of them. And if he could take R.M Renfield in alive, it might do enough to ease the trouble he felt over his work, even this long after understanding himself and his own nature.
There was something else now besides Renfield, up there in the higher floors of the castle. Not alive, for Van Helsing could hear no breath or heartbeat. Yet, it was a familiar presence, one that seemed to be calling from decades ago. And then, he recognized it.
"Oh hell."
"You look well, Gabriel," came the guttural sound, barely distinguishable as words. "You have not aged a single day since we last met forty years ago."
He drew out a silver handle, readying it for possible use. "I suppose that Mister Renfield succeeded in at least bringing you back to this world," Van Helsing replied as he crept toward the stairs. Judging from the stench, the other person up there with Renfield was not exactly whole, no more than a rotting corpse that was only just animated enough for movement and speech. "Not the best of bodies, I presume."
"Yes," the voice said. Van Helsing could hear quite a bit of disappointment in that voice with regards to Renfield. "Little more than a zombie for now, but soon, it will not be so."
Quiet as a breath, he rose up the stairs, eyes looking out for any movement while his ears trained themselves on Renfield's heartbeat. "I'm sure that Velkan would love to see you now," he remarked, walking up to the second floor and coming about to see his quarry. "Nothing more than a normal vampire, without all your powers and your invincibility."
Standing there, backs turned toward him, were Roland Mendal Renfield, formerly a solicitor of Hawkins and Harker in London, and a tall figure who was shrouded by a black cloak. Renfield spun around and hissed at the man known as Van Helsing, exposing his glistening vampiric canines. The other figure only laughed, calmly turning to reveal his decrepit flesh, the face pocked with holes and rotting muscle structure. But it was without a doubt Dracula, or at least, some semblance of him brought back from Hell.
"So it's true then," Gabriel muttered while stepping toward the two. "You have been revived in some capacity."
The corpse nodded. "So sad that Alucard did not return with me," he replied, pulling back his cloak to reveal the rest of his corrupted body. Like his face, the rest of Dracula's skin was falling apart, oozing with puss and other such wretched fluids. Exposed by the lack of skin, the muscles and bones of his fingers were bared to view, evidence of his very incomplete form. "But then again, he was allowed rest."
Van Helsing nodded. He would have to time this right, but if he did it, he could eliminate this pale shadow of his once greatest foe, then move to capture Renfield. He was already touched by the vampire's blood, no question about that, but perhaps there was still time to save him from becoming one of the undead. "I must ask," Gabriel began, trying to distract Dracula. "Just how was it that you came about returning to this world? Adrian's blood destroyed you, Vlad."
The corpse chuckled. A large piece of rotted flesh fell to the ground, along with a couple of teeth. "You'd be surprised at whom the distraught of mankind will turn to," he said, now taking a step toward Van Helsing. "Mister Renfield, for example. Already with a weak mind, so it didn't take much to draw him here to Walachia, where my gypsy servants worked to restore me to a physical form." He sighed now. "Sadly, the necromancy of the region is not what it used to be."
That could not be argued, though in Van Helsing's opinion, such was a good thing. "You know what I intend to do," he said to Dracula. "The question is, how much of a fight can Mister Renfield put up once you're back in Hell?"
The handle slid out a silver pike end, and with a grunt, Van Helsing flung it directly into Dracula's heart. The rotting vampire stared in horror, then looked from the stake to his foe, eyes unable to understand how he was defeated so easily. "One day," he hissed. "I will face you again!"
He crumbled, unholy life extinguished while Renfield hurried to escape. Van Helsing took his chance and gave chase, running up another set of stairs that led higher into the castle. Renfield's attempt to escape had been a bit of a surprise; Gabriel had expected him to be released from Dracula's hold the minute the vampire was dead again. It seemed that this time, it was going to take more work to destroy the count's reach into the mortal world.
As soon as he reached the next floor, Van Helsing was faced with what appeared to be a group of Szgany gypsy warriors, who all stood in defense of Renfield. "I was wondering when I'd get to you people," he muttered, now drawing out a handle piece that looked to be about a foot-and-a-half long. He flicked a switch, the clockwork mechanisms inside releasing a set of sections that transformed the handle into a quarterstaff. The gypsies stepped back, not sure of how to handle this well-armed foe. That was indeed the reaction Gabriel was expecting.
They charged at him, swords and knives in hand, but bringing up his own quarterstaff, Van Helsing proved he was more than a match for such numbers. A swift swing brought one end of the staff slamming into the chest of a gypsy, while a back thrust and tilt brought it crashing into the head of another when Gabriel spun around. Now spinning the pipe over his head, Van Helsing lashed out to crack a third Szgany across the temple, kicking back with his foot at the fourth before spinning on his heel and slamming his open palm into the man's chest. As the fifth gypsy ran at him, sword ready to strike, the man in black dropped down just as the blade was swung, bringing his leg up while he rose up again, and smashed his knee right into the gypsy's crotch. Van Helsing quickly cracked the man in the back of the neck with his elbow, knocking him face down on the floor.
A tap of the switch caused the quarterstaff to retract into passive form, and Van Helsing turned around, coat billowing behind him with the sharp movement. He stepped over the bodies of the fallen gypsies, taking care not to step on them. Renfield was nowhere to be seen for the moment, but Van Helsing could hear his heartbeat. He was close.
"I would suggest that you submit to the mercy of the Templar!" he called out. Hoping that some part of Renfield would listen to reason. "You are a troubled man, I'm sure they will understand and aid your rehabilitation!"
"A thousand plagues on you and your Templar!" the hoarse voice replied defiantly. Gabriel's ears could track it to the upper levels of the castle. He quickly ascended the stairs, right hand on the handle of one of his guns. He hoped it wouldn't come to killing Renfield, but if there was no other choice...
Well, at least God would understand, even if the Order didn't.
Van Helsing reached the top of the castle, looking out now to see the city below that stretched out toward the valley. There was no time to take advantage of the view, however. Renfield was still on the loose, and so long as that maniac was under Dracula's influence, it was possible that the count could be resurrected again. Doubtlessly, dispatching Dracula once more would not be so simple next time.
So much rubble here at the top of the castle, so many places for Renfield to hide. It bothered Van Helsing that so far, this man infected by vampire blood had surprised him several times. Before, in Sighisoara, he had eluded Van Helsing through sheer luck of departure. But here in Poenari, Renfield had proved to be ingeniously cunning, in spite of his insanity.
Someone leapt out from behind a large pile of debris, slamming into Van Helsing and knocking him to the ground. He vaulted back to his feet, drawing out his guns and trying to see his foe so that he could disable him. Renfield was proving to be one hell of a nuisance, that was for sure, and even with Dracula's death, he still was not released from the effects of the vampire's blood. Knowing how situations like this went, he probably wasn't going to be taking Renfield back alive.
"Richelieu's gonn'a hate me for this," he muttered.
Holstering one of his guns and pulling a small device from his coat, Van Helsing skillfully twisted the top piece, mixing the clear fluid in the catch with the blackened cold magma in the lower part. He rolled it along the ground before diving into the stairwell, and as a brilliant flare of light burst out, he could hear a scream of pain. That was his signal.
He rose back up from the stairwell, drawing both guns and catching glimpse of the staggering figure just as the last traces of light from the sun flare died. Renfield was stumbling about blindly, holding his eyes. No doubt, the flare was enough to blind any living human, but to one infected by the undead curse, it was bound to effect more damage.
"I warned you to surrender before," he said, walking over toward the ghoul. "Yield now, and the Order can help you recover your sanity."
Renfield hissed, turning toward Van Helsing as he lowered his hands. His eyes were blackened from the powerful surge of light, his skin burned as well. "I am no lunatic in a mad fit," he said, acting as if, despite the lose of his vision, he could still see. "I am a sane man, who has lost his soul!"
He charged toward Gabriel, hands reaching out to grab him, but Van Helsing quickly stepped aside, dropped to one knee, and brought his arm right smashing into Renfield's chest. The ghoul hit the ground, yelling angrily while he scrambled away and regained his footing. Again he charged, this time lashing at Van Helsing and forcing him to step back toward the edge of the roof.
There was a laugh from Renfield, one that sounded like it wasn't quite coming from him. "Death is not always the ending," he said, in a voice not his own. Now it was clear why it had been so easy to destroy Dracula's body; he had possessed Renfield's. "But for you, Gabriel, it will be."
"So sorry to disappoint you then," Van Helsing replied just as Renfield rushed at him. He dove aside, sending Renfield flying off the edge of the tower and to the ground below, where he crashed with a sickening crunch. Gabriel sighed with relief, as now, he could no longer sense the presence of the count. But, he had lost Renfield, something he'd actually been trying to avoid. "Requiem sachem patchi," he whispered, then made his way down the stairs to depart. There wasn't much chance of collecting Renfield's remains, for they already were quickly decomposing. It looked like the undead taint in him had also brought on the quick destruction of his body. The cardinal was not going to be happy with this. But, Van Helsing was used to not pleasing the cardinal, be it Jinette forty years ago, or Richelieu in the present.
His black stallion was still waiting for him in the city. Van Helsing sighed and swung his leg up while pulling himself onto the horse. Perhaps the poor soul who had been Roland Renfield would rest, but there was no resting for the man named Gabriel Van Helsing. It was back to Rome, where a new assignment was already awaiting him, no doubt. But he still had one stop to make before going back.
"I can't express how much it means for you to stop by."
Gabriel nodded to his host, walking alongside her as they headed into the large library of Corvinus Manor. "Anna, after forty years, I still cannot forget what your family did for the world, and for me."
The woman who, almost four decades ago, was once the fifteen-year-old Lady Anastasia Corvinus, now stood before Van Helsing as Anna Renard, fifty-three years old, yet physically she looked to not have aged since hitting her mid-twenties. No doubt, one of the few positive aftereffects of having been touched by Dracula's blood. She was older, wiser, just as beautiful, and now the loving mother of four children and a devoted wife.
Speaking of her parental duties, the youngest member of the family was sitting in the library, reading a book with Velkan while Van Helsing and Anna walked in. "Even though you did more for us than we did for you," she replied, glancing to Velkan. If Anna had aged very well due to Dracula's blood, then Velkan hadn't aged a day since that terrible battle. Owing to his own lycan heritage, Velkan Valerious was just as youthful and physically fit as he had been all those years ago, despite being sixty-four years of age. Truly, the blood of the ancient werewolves in his veins was a grand gift of the moon.
Noticing the arrivals, Velkan smiled and prodded his youngest niece to stand up while he as well rose from his seat. "Van Helsing," he said, holding his hand out to his old friend. "It's been too long since you paid us a visit."
"Five years," Gabriel add while shaking Velkan's hand. He glanced to the little girl who stood beside Velkan, then smiled and knelt down slightly to come more at eye level with her. "And I don't remember you being so big last time."
The child was obviously nervous, he could see that. "Maria, say hello to Unce Gabriel," Anna intoned. She chuckled faintly when she heard her daughter gulped. "She's a bit shy, just like her brother."
"It's alright," Gabriel replied, standing up and patting the child on the head. "Probably just the usual reaction I get from people." He watched as the girl hid behind Velkan, but she was smiling at him. "I'm afraid I can't stay long though, Rome will want me back as soon as possible, so that I can inform them about what happened with Renfield." He glanced to Velkan, his eyes saying that there was news which such a young child was better off now know. The lycan nodded and led the girl out, leaving Van Helsing and Anna in private.
She could pick up that something was wrong. "What happened?" she asked. "I heard rumors about some cult of undead worshipers, but-"
"We came very close," he said quickly, answering before she could ask the question. "Dracula was put into a very rotted body, barely able to hold him, and he was able to possess Renfield." Van Helsing saw the fear in Anna's eyes. It was warranted, but thankfully, it could be put to rest. "He was destroyed when Renfield was killed, though we got lucky this time. I thought the lycan tribes were going to keep an eye on the Szgany gypsies."
Sighing as she walked over to the large window of the library, Anna looked out at the late-afternoon sun. "The lycans have been kept more than busy with an outbreak of lupus that spread through Vaseria, so they haven't been able to keep watch as much as they'd like." She paused, now smiling as she walked over to the wall which bore a large oil-painting of a map. It was a view of all Walachia, and Van Helsing remembered this portrait all too well. It had been the doorway to Dracula's lost fortress four decades ago, the end of his search for his identity.
Anna pulled something from one of the shelves which had been set up nearby. As she walked back to Van Helsing, he could see that she was holding a long wooden case, about four-and-a-half feet in length and a foot in width, just big enough to hold a sword. "Velkan and I agreed that this should go to you."
As she opened the case, Van Helsing was struck by the urge to decline. Inside was a sword made of pure silver, solid gold gilded into the blade and hilt in an intricate design. A shining emerald topped the pommel, the entire weapon glittering in the glow of the recently installed electrical lighting. "Oh no," he whispered, knowing how much this blade meant to Anna. "I can't, this is-"
"Adrian would want you to have it," she insisted. There, once more, was that smile he could not refuse. Anna seemed to have inherited that talent of her ancestors. "And I'm sure that as well, Matthias would agree. It belongs with you now."
He sighed. If it had been Velkan, he might have been able to refuse, but Anna still had that charm which destroyed all ability to deny her request. No doubt about it, she was the relative of Adrian Tepes. "I know how much he meant to you," Gabriel finally said as he reluctantly accepted the case and sword. "This is all you have left of him."
There was a nod, but it was one that told she understood how Van Helsing felt about her gift. "Juste doesn't quite understand, and the children never would. So, we agreed that it should go to you." There was a spark of amusement in Anna's eyes now. "Who knows? Perhaps one day, you'll have a child of your own to pass your legacy on to."
That thought was amusing. "I don't count on it," Van Helsing replied. "But who knows? I just might, and then I'll be hoping that the Almighty doesn't get on my case about it."
Anna smiled, and Van Helsing could see that Adrian had been right about her. She looked amazingly like Elisabetha Corvinus, virtually her exact twin, right down to her sea-blue eyes. It was no wonder Adrian had been so attached to this woman when she was a child, and he did envy Juste Renard for having won her heart. "Well, I should be going," he at last said. "I'd love to stay for dinner and remind Juste of my standing promise, but the cardinal will have my neck if I delay too long, and I'm sure Velkan will fill in for me."
The reluctance to see him go was very evident in Anna's eyes, but she knew he had his responsibilities, and so, she nodded. She gave him a hug, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You're always welcome here," she said, leading him to the stairs. "Gabriel very much loves spending time with you."
"He best," Van Helsing quipped, smiling at the mention of his namesake. "I have high expectations of that boy, considering you named him after me and made me his godfather."
She nodded. "Adrian also has dreams of being just like his 'uncle', dashing, heroic, and selfless." Again, there was that glint of pride on Anna's face. Apparently, Van Helsing surmised, such traits ran in the family, if not the name alone. But then, something else shined in the woman's eyes. "And Annette is quite fond of you." When Van Helsing blinked and glanced to her, Anna nodded, letting him know it wasn't a joke. "She's taken with you, Gabriel. I do my best to make sure she has no illusions about it, but still, I think you should take some pride in being her first infatuation."
He gulped, not knowing what to say. Then again, sticking with the truth usually worked, so, why not now? "She is a lovely girl," he replied, trying not to let the thought of a young lady of royal descent having a crush on him get to his nerves. "Just as lovely as her mother, but...what would the cardinal say?"
Anna laughed. She had heard stories about Van Helsing's view on the men who were generally in charge of him and his abilities. She could remember all the times he'd ranted about Jinette, and having met the man once about thirty years ago, she could understand why he hated anyone who wore the robes of a cardinal. "You're no man of the cloth," she said, nudging him in the side. "That's for sure. But, it probably is the best for now. Just don't make her wait too long."
Now she was starting to play Mother Matchmaker a little too much. "I'll try and visit more often," he said at last as they reached the front door. "Give Annette my regards, and for God's sake, don't let her run off to Rome trying to find me. The last thing I need is a nineteen-year-old girl showing up at Saint Peter's and asking for me to marry her."