Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story pertaining to Van Helsing are the property of Stephen Sommers. This is an amateur writing effort and is for entertainment purposes only.


Chapter 8: The Problem With Vampires

He felt at peace with the world, and that was something that Gabriel hardly ever felt. He allowed his arms to descend into the thick, inky liquid that surrounded him as his lover ran her hands over his torso and licked the blood from his body. He blinked. He found himself within arms reach of Elizabeth Bathory, standing waist high in a pool of blood. Her tongue moved over his lips again as she hissed. She moved down his throat, softly biting him as she reached his collarbones. With a loud hiss, she jumped forward and bit down hard into his chest.

Gabriel thrust forward with his tojo blade, but was met only with the sound of a cackle and the rush of wind. He jumped up to his feet, looking around frantically for Elizabeth. The countess was gone. The staircase was empty and every sensation of evil had disappeared. He grabbed the door handle and swung the door open without another thought.

His whole face was burning as if set aflame. He dropped the tojo blades, crying out in anguish as the pain consumed him. He kicked the door shut furiously, blocking out the light. He tried to control his breathing, his chest pounding for air. The heat faded from his face as a chill spread from his neck to his forehead. The blisters vanished quickly and slowly but surely, he was himself again.

God damn it, he cursed himself, getting back to his feet. He snatched his ornately designed bandana from his pocket and covered his bare skin from the nose down. The rest of his face was hidden by the wide brim of his hat.

He could feel the curse of the vampire weighing heavily in his veins now, almost like euphoria as it spread from his fingertips to his shoulders. He took off his glove and found his hand pale as Mina's face, blue veins spreading up to his forearms and beyond. He reached apprehensively to the bite on his neck, regretting doing it afterwards. The skin was inflamed and infected, coagulated gore still dripping from the wound. His eyes watered from the heat radiating from it.

This is just brilliant, isn't it Gabriel? The sun's up. A few hours more before you're sucking blood and whimpering at her feet like a dog.

No, he thought, pounding his fist against the wall. She won't break me. She won't.

Oh, so naïve Gabriel. There was a cold laugh. Inside of his mind, in the dark recesses of memory and time was Elizabeth Bathory's cackle. Take a look outside, will you? I left you a present. Something you'll find most delightful.

Collecting his tojo blades, he opened the door again, hanging his head low behind the rim of his hat. The shadow protected him, but only just. He could still feel his flesh tingle at the heat that fell over his black clad body. He kicked his feet a little, drying blood sticking to the base of his boots. He lifted his head cautiously, looking straight ahead at the ship deck.

It was a battlefield, littered with corpses, drenched in blood and torn flesh. Gabriel couldn't breathe as he looked over the crewman; their mouths open; their eyes wide and staring…

And there, at the mast was the writhing body of Janos. He was bound with thick ropes and covered in small bites. Gabriel ran to him, grabbing at the ropes in a futile attempt to free him. Janos groaned.

"KILL ME!" He shouted at Gabriel, still struggling. "That bitch countess and her thralls. Destroy me before I destroy you."

"There's still a chance," the hunter said, untying the rope. Janos groaned loudly and demanded for him to stop again. "If I can kill her, I can…"

"No." Janos's head hung down, hidden behind a layer of his blood covered black curls. Gabriel stopped pulling at the ropes. "It's too late for me. You know that. End her line, fedeles zsebóra. Do not allow her evil to be birthed in me."

His whole body went rigid. Gabriel's eyes burned as the thought of actually killing a man came into his head. The thought of slashing Janos's throat, one of the few people in the world he had laughed with once upon a time; one of the few men in the world who had a name for him that didn't sound like 'murderer'.

But in that moment, he realized he didn't have a choice. He took up a tojo blade from his sleeve. Janos's eyes closed, his breathing slowing. Gabriel took aim, shut his eyes and slashed the spinning blade across his friend's throat with an enraged cry.

Blood spilled down the front of the body and splashed out onto the hunter's bare face. He shouted out every curse he knew to Elizabeth Bathory. He threw the tojo blade into the deck of the ship, hurling his fists onto the ground.

"GOD DAMN YOU!"


"You don't understand!" Mina protested to the harbour master again as they marched across the dock. "We have to set sail tonight. It is imperative that we reach Transylvania within a certain number of hours."

"So you've been saying," the harbour master said, looking over his parchment again, pretending to be gazing at something interesting while staring blankly, as if straight through the list of cargo and ships in his port. "It is also imperative that these ships stay on course. I've already had one ship leave in that direction and that's all that's going in that direction. Good night, Madam." He gave a small salute, unsure of how to behave given the state of things. He had been approached by a woman – dressed in trousers and a suit coat, no less – and a friar, both on the verge of hysteria, babbling about needing a ride across the Adriatic Sea.

"I take it you're not doing any better than me?" Carl said from behind her. Mina groaned, shaking her head. She stared out at the sea, watching the sun come up in the distance, just a sliver, but a warning nonetheless. Mina hung her head in defeat and gazed at the dock. There is nothing you can do. Even if you did charter a ship, you wouldn't find him before he becomes a thrall. And then there's no use.

Mina clenched her fist.

No, she thought, she's not going to have him. Gabriel Van Helsing is mine.

She punched her hand and turned back to face Carl. "Give me a weapon," she commanded, "And something to hide my face. We're leaving this port tonight."

"As normal citizens or as fugitives?" Carl asked, and was very worried when Mina didn't reply.


The sun had become something he could depend on. After five years of constant movement, his life shifting in and out of balance, the sun and moon were the two things that never stopped rising and falling, yielding dominance to the other when their own twelve hours were up. He would stand on a chair in his darkened room in the Vatican to look through the small, dusty window in his room as the sun rose in the sky. The golden brilliance slowly overtook Rome in shades of red and oranges before swallowing it completely with the cerulean sky.

And now look at you, cowering behind a mask and a hat for fear the sun will consume you entirely, he scowled at the notion and looked up and over the walls of ship. He could see the shore not far off from him, a sight which would have been a relief hours ago, when the crew was alive. Now that the odds were slightly in Elizabeth's favour, the shore was a sight met with dread.

Gabriel swiftly moved to the stern of the ship, checking all his pockets and the compartments in his jacket that his weapons were secure before leaping over the side of the ship and into the frigid waters below.

He held fast to his hat and bandana, ensuring that impact did not leave him vulnerable to the sun. His legs struck first and sent a chill up his spine while his flesh stung, before even that disappeared with the rising water.

Despite the large amount of metal he was carrying, he was an unnaturally good swimmer. He kicked himself back to the surface and started swimming in the wake of the ship at first before steering away from it, propelling himself inland towards the coast. There was no telling which coast it was, Elizabeth had taken care of that, but he no longer cared where he was heading anymore, as long as it was in the general direction of Transylvania.


"Get that cargo up on deck!" The captain shouted; his voice was thick with the makings of a cold and his throat was stinging, but the sun was coming up on the horizon and they were already behind schedule. "Put your backs in to it gentleman! This century please!"

He put his hands on his hips and shrugged his shoulders, groaning loudly as the cargo got loaded at the same pace regardless of how much he ranted. He waltzed over to his cabin door, shouting another insult over his shoulder before stepping inside and slamming the door behind him.

"Lazy bunch of dogs," he said, grabbing the bottle of whisky from his desk. He yanked the cork from the bottle, just as a pistol cocked and came to rest at the base of his skull.

"Stop," an alto voice commanded. The Captain's eyes narrowed as the vaguely British voice spoke. He went to turn only to have the pistol pushed deeper into his thick neck flesh. "My associate will disarm you."

He rolled his eyes as the small figure emerged from the shadows.

"Is this your first time hijacking a boat or something sir, because you're doing a terrible job?" The Captain said, pointing at the small assistant.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Carl said, pulling his hood from his face. Mina groaned and shot Carl a sharp glare. The Captain laughed and turned, unafraid.

"Kindly put that pistol away," he said. Mina hesitated, but eventually complied, sliding it back into the holster on her hip. "Very good." He balled his hand into a fist and went to punch her. Before the blow could come, however, the Captain keeled over onto the ground, landing at Mina's feet. She looked up at Carl, who was holding a smooth club in his hands.

"I told you this wasn't going to work," he said, "But does anyone listen to me. No, they never do. Always rushing off, wanting to play hunter in the big world."

"Help me," Mina said, her teeth clenched as she took the thick wrists of the man and rolled him over. Carl grabbed the man's ankles, but didn't stop his rant.

"You know you're just like him. Always doing things the hard way. No, Carl, let's not try and reason with people through conversation. Let's immediately resort to violence…" She reached in her coat and yanked out the few bowstrings she had within, their strong cords the only material she had to tie the Captain up with. "What are you doing now?"

"Tying him up," Mina said simply, halting her movements. Carl was getting a look on his face that surely meant, 'You're an idiot for thinking of such a plan.' "What would you suggest I do?"

"Finally! You're willing to listen to me." He swatted her hands away and stood up again, grabbing the bottle of whisky from the desk. "Don't say a word."

Mina opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, but she mutely obeyed, watching him as he poured the whisky on the man's face to rouse him.

The Captain coughed and spluttered as Carl emptied the bottle on him. "What the hell do you think you're doing you bastard?" Mina took a step back from him, watching as Carl fumbled with the knife he drew from within his robes. The Captain jerked back at the sight of the blade. "Now, now, what are you going to do with that?"

Carl swallowed hard and loomed over him, his jaw tightened. "You're going to keep us on board. And you're going to change course and head for Western Czechoslovakia."

The Captain was silent. He cocked a brow. Mina looked at Carl, wondering what would happen next.

Finally, the Captain laughed. "That's all you wanted? A ride?" He laughed again, harder this time, before breaking into a coughing fit. It subsided soon and he continued. "Put the knife down friar. I don't like men coming aboard my ship and demanding to stow away, but I can always be told to make two stops. For that dagger, I'll make hundreds."

Carl glanced at Mina.

She shrugged. It was all she really could do at that point.


The cold was starting to wear him thin. His limbs felt like lead and by the time he did reach the rocky coastline and he flopped onto a shore looking like a drowned kitten. Gabriel crawled up to the forest and finally stopped to take a breather. The whole world was spinning wildly again, and in the shade of the trees he finally looked around with his vampire eyes.

He had only ever heard the accounts once, long ago, while visiting the Order's dungeons. A female vampire was watching him from the confines of her prison cell, staring at him with bright, red eyes. "You're the hunter who kills his prey?"
"I could say the same about you," he replied. The vampire brushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled.

"Are you expecting me to say I deserved that?"

"The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem," Gabriel crossed his arms proudly. The vampire laughed.

"I wouldn't be talking," she said quickly. "You kill with discrimination, and even I can't admit to that."
There was silence for a moment. The vampire reached through the bars of her prison and smiled softly. "Do you have a cigarette at all?"

He was just inches away from her fingertips. They hovered over his chest, just brushing over his trench coat and shirt. Gabriel didn't move, unafraid by her advances. He shook his head. "I don't smoke."

"Good choice," she pulled back her hand, "It'll kill you."

"Not that you have anything to worry about."

"You're the only thing I have to worry about, isn't that right?" She looked around her prison cell once more, sighing deeply. "The view isn't good from in here."

"I heard vampires could find beauty anywhere."

"Rumours," she scoffed, "Vampire eyes cannot find beauty is places so…Catholic."

He laughed a little at that. The vampire turned and stared at him, entranced by him for a moment.

"Through your own eyes, your face is so human. It's so plain to see a nose, a mouth, two eyes…to a vampire all of those features burn with supernatural clarity, as if they are set ablaze by hell's fire." She faced him fully, her chest pressed against the bars of the cell. "If you saw yourself through a vampire's eyes you would appear so different."

"Indulge me," he said, challenging her. The vampire rose to the occasion it seemed, looking over his shoulder at the monks behind him, drawing another beast into a cage. Gabriel ignored them and waited for her answer.

The vampire slipped into her native tongue and spoke in smooth French.

"Your face is smooth, not wrinkled by stress and pain. No scars mar your flesh for it appears as mine does, etched in the fabric of humans as if carved from stone. Your body is human, yes, but your eyes betray you. In your eyes I see..." Her voice quieted as she turned back into the darkness. Gabriel became aware of eyes on him, and he turned. Jinette stared at him intently.

"Here to help transfer the prisoner?" The Cardinal asked. The hunter said nothing as the cell door opened and the vampire was led out, surrounded by attendants carrying crucifixes. She took a step towards Gabriel and smiled, whispering the final word to him sensuously.

"Blood."

As he lay in the forest, pulling off his layers of soaked clothing in the safety of the trees, he found what she had been speaking of. The world burned with intense clarity. The trees seemed greener, the ground seemed browner…everything was rich with colour and burning in his vision, "As if touched by heaven's light." He could never describe it in words, and feared he never would be able to, but he found that every vampire could find solace in such a world, even without sunlight. He caught his breath while losing himself into the beauty of the world.


It was still dark as they set sail, and even as Mina stepped out on deck it was still twilight. The moon still shone brightly, the stars still twinkling like diamonds; she found that the air was colder though, sending shivers down her spine as she stared into the navy blue waters.

"And what's your friend's name Carl?"
"Silent fellow, ain't he?"
Mina said nothing, turning over on the bunk to hide her face from the candlelight. The crew was still passing around a flask, playing poker and betting with cigarettes. Carl had joined in not to long ago, winning nearly every round (Mina assumed he wasn't playing fair, judging by his habit of hiding things in his sleeves).

"Oh, well that's…" Carl droned off, praying that Mina would say something.

So she filled them all in, turning over on the cot and standing up. Her face was hidden by the hood on her coat and she calmly stated, "Harker. My name is Jonathan Harker."

And then she walked out of the cabin to the deck.

The helmsman said nothing to her, mumbling to someone that Mina either couldn't see or wasn't there at all. The wind caught her cloak and hair, throwing back the hood. She no longer cared about her identity. Woman or man, she was still getting out of the cramped living quarters and taking in some air.

The sun cast a long stream of light over the open water, covering her face and basking her body in golden rays. She remembered missing the sunshine, and realized that over the course of one year she had gained another dependency on it.

"Ah, sunlight, how one misses it."

Startled, Mina whipped around to face the man who spoken. He turned a little, hidden behind the hood of a black jacket. His face was pale, his eyes an icy blue coloured, and his features were very defined. Mina knew what she was looking at. She was staring into the face of a vampire, and not just any vampire it seemed. This one she knew. The strangest feeling of déjà vu came over her as she stared into his face.

"Darling Mina you look so…human."

She reached for her belt, feeling for the pistol she carried. By the time she had aimed, the vampire had disappeared.

Something dropped down on the deck behind her. Mina turned again, but the vampire had already grabbed her wrists and shaken the gun from her hands before she could use it.

"Did I scare you?"

"Let go of me!" She kicked his shin but his grip didn't loosen.

"You don't recognize me, do you?"

Jesus, this must be how Van Helsing feels all the time.

She ripped her hands from his grip and punched him, but her fist struck nothing but air. The vampire had disappeared again.