Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story belong to Stephen Sommers, the writer/director of the movie Van Helsing. This is an amateur writing effort and no money was made off this story. It is for entertainment only.


Chapter 9: Darker Shades of Black

Gabriel was freezing. He had finally dried his clothes enough that they were somewhat comfortable and was starting to climb the steep bank towards Transylvania. He allowed his instincts to take control at that point. They took his mind away from the cold that had settled over his body and started paying attention to the more important things.

Running water…there's a stream nearby.

Moss…least I'm heading in the right direction.

He shivered again, buried in his clothing to protect him from the sun. It had moved into the center of the sky now, shining directly on him. The heat itself was making his skin crawl, but offered little protection against the frigid winds that billowed through the trees.

Elizabeth's voice was thankfully gone from his head, but he found little time to celebrate. He was thirsty, he realized, and even though he had taken handfuls from the stream when he passed it, it did nothing. It was wishful thinking to imagine that it would. After all, it was hours into the transformation, and he was already allergic to the sun. Blood would be the only thing that could quench his thirst now. The thought revolted him, but he trudged on.

He thought of Mina often, his thoughts drifting back to her over and over obsessively. He imagined her doing simple things, the sort of things he had taken for granted over the years; reading, writing, grading papers…the true activities of a schoolmarm. He would joke with her about it whenever he could, leaning over her shoulder as she sat at her desk, staring down at the frail pages of a novel in the golden lamp light.

"You're always reading that same book."

"I like it," she'd say, still watching the page rather than him. "I'm not doing it to annoy you."

"I never said it annoyed me," he kissed her on the cheek. "It's just it's quite hard to ravage you, my lady, when you're seated so far from the bed." His coy smirk made her finally turn to him, green eyes gleaming with ideas of mischief. "Now, that's getting better."

Jesus, they were foolish. They were like two lovers in a novel or something, heading towards eloping without wanting to stop. Gabriel had considered running away with her. He considered it often. It was another thought that bounced around in his head as he marched on through the dying forest. It came as natural as breath to him. Whenever he saw her, he saw her on a horse with him, riding off into the last of the sunset (or sunrise, but the sunsets were always more romantic). The ideals of just escaping the tightening clutches of Jinette and the Vatican were gaining more and more appeal.

From him anyways. He knew better than to decide that fate for Mina. She was traditional for the most part. She barely allowed him to touch her for the first month or two, let alone see her even partially nude. There was always a restraining hand in his way from loosening the corset lacings, always a sharp tongue preventing him from touching any of her more private areas. She believed her actions left her as the fallen woman, a fornicator, a sinner, and even though her belief in Christ was waning, he could see the sadness in her eyes the first time they made love.

And then there was Jonathan. It was like he haunted the very shadows Gabriel shrouded himself in. He was always there, watching over his ex-wife with an intensity that truly bothered the hunter. He couldn't remember Jonathan. He couldn't remember how much he meant to Mina.

But Mina could remember. Mina could remember everything.

Gabriel dropped to his knees suddenly, cringing in pain. His neck was throbbing as if someone was thrusting a white hot poker into the flesh slowly. He heaved forward, his stomach doing flip flops and his body stiffening. Christ, it hurt. It hurt terribly. The ache moved through every vein, enveloping his brain from the root to the top of the skull. He was brought to his hands, in a crawl, looking down at the ground with his pain filled eyes. He squinted so hard that tears dropped to the dirt below him, freezing at his eyelashes from the wind.

"This is how I want you to greet me, lover," Elizabeth said, whispering in his ear as she loomed at his side. She brushed her jet black hair from her face, coming closer with a menacing look in her bright red eyes. "On your knees, submissive, completely giving into me like my slave. And when you rise you will accept me as your mate, and drink from my veins. Then, and only then, you will reap the benefits of this power I have given you."

Gabriel gritted his teeth and smirked despite the agony his body was in. He managed to speak at last. "I don't want your power."

He tackled Elizabeth to the ground, but when he opened his eyes next, he found that she was just an illusion. There was no one else in the forest but him.


Mina was wearing a mask. She stared at him through the metallic bands that tied around her face. He gently reached orward and lifted it from her head, the thin chains that hung from it in semi circles jingling as he removed it. She was silent, watching him carefully with her cat-like features, unmoving like a statue.

"Mina?"

Silence. She looked away from him, straight ahead at the golden walls of the chamber they were in. The maroon fabric of her dress collected at her legs, her corset bound with thick leather straps as leather cuffs and sheer fabrics draped down her arms. He nudged closer to her, snapping his fingers in front of her eyes. "Mina, answer me."
"Why should I?" She demanded, turning slightly to meet his face. The collar at her throat tightened a moment, digging into her flesh. Blood dripped from beneath it at a slow but steady pace, like a pulse. "Answer you? You never answer me. Every question is given a shady response is if you are tying scarves about my eyes. You use me Gabriel as an outlet for your rebellious nature, crawling back to my doorstep like a desperate whore just looking for another night in bed with me. And for what? So you can run away by the time the sun comes up as if the carriage is going to turn back into a pumpkin the second dawn rolls around?"

He was left speechless. Mina's cruelty was always seen and never heard, unless you counted the low growls and piercing hisses when she turned into a vampire. But her words were hardly ever cruel, and even more seldom were they cruel to him.

"That was unfair."

"Unfair, Gabriel? Do you even know the meaning of that word?" Her eyes bore into his soul. "It leaves a taste in your mouth as stale and acrid as rotten milk and thoughts as hazy as the clouds in your memory. You cannot comprehend the meaning of unfair. You do not have a clue what it means, do you?"

"I don't have a clue?" he was shouting now, "You don't understand what it's like to be ordered around like some god damned servant, obeying the laws of a God you hardly believe in."

"Oh, poor Gabriel, the dying martyr; the saviour of men, charging forward into battle with the shadows cast by God himself. The hunter of hunters, the evil of all evils…the man who looks in the mirror and sees a reflection only the devil could leave." Mina looked towards him again. She didn't look like herself, the demonic being before him, with her eyes dolled up in black kohl and hair in tight ringlets in a halo of burnished copper around her head. "Oh to be the fallen one, thrown down from the clouds to the steps that Peter built. Oh to be the wandering soldier, following the laws of a demon in an angel's costume. Oh to be the great Gabriel Van Helsing, who kills the Count Dracula and sleeps with his mistress."

"And what of you? To be so powerful and frightened to use that power? You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

"You accuse me of fright? You run when someone reaches out their hand and promises you the past, and yet you use that fact as an excuse for your helplessness."

"I didn't run from you."

"I didn't promise you the past."

"What does it matter, huh? What does it matter to you? It's my problem, my brain. You don't have anything to do with it." Gabriel's jaw tightened as he reached forward to her and grabbed her chin, forcefully. "Get out of here, Elizabeth. She's not your property."

The collar tightened on Mina's throat suddenly. Her back arched as blood streamed down her chest, soaking into the dress. Gabriel allowed her to drop back onto the bed, trying to remind himself that all this was just a dream, and that was all. Mina's fine, she's fine…

"Why should I?"

The room changed suddenly, the golden walls and candles disappearing, immediately transforming into a darkened tower chamber. Mina's body disappeared behind him as he was thrown against the mattress someone tackling into him from the side.

Lightning struck and the face came into view. It was Mina again, staring down at him with ferocity in her eyes that only a vampire could possess. Her appearance was different again, her black corset and skirt flooding over his body as if it were alive. Her hair was jet black and she was wearing a silver crown, one that wrapped around her scalp and towered over her head with diamonds hanging from every band.

"Why should I let her go? Do you not like this body, Gabriel? You've touched every inch of it, kissed all the important parts, held her memory so close to your heart that even now, as your strength fades and you bend to my will you are forced to remember her over and over and over again. You're relentless Gabriel!" She threw her fists against his chest, lowering to his face. The lightning flashed again, the light showing the face for who it really was: Elizabeth. The darkness came over once again and it was Mina's face once more, transformed by her inner evil. The pale skin was no longer warm but frigid as her fingers crawled over his chest. The blue veins were more pronounced, the eyes more violent and wild. "You hold her close to you Gabriel, closer than that pathetic friar that consumes the past five years of your known existence, but what of before…long before that. What of the beginning of your wretched mortal existence? What of the immortal one?"

Gabriel pushed back suddenly, rolling Mina onto her back on the bed, holding her down by her shoulders. The dress came alive again, wrapping about his legs and hands like ink. He ignored it. "And so what? So what of the immortal life? Stop taunting me with her body and her face! Show yourself!"

Mina laughed cruelly, her fangs all the more evident as her mouth opened wider and wider. The laugh became a cackle within moments as she rose off the bed, regardless of how much strength he pinned her down with. She lifted herself to his ear and whispered, "Show yourself."

Then her fangs pierced his throat, and the final image that filled his mind was Mina, lying on her back in the snow, her eyes closing in defeat.

And then came the faintest of whispers, as if the wind itself delivered the message to him, and it was the sound of Mina calling his name.


Carl had a headache, not uncommon for one to have when they had been up into the wee hours of morning, guzzling back ale with the other sailors on the ship. He had been hung over before, more times than he could count actually, and even though he was considered a genius (mainly by the muses in his own head), he could create weapons of mass destruction that could obliterate the forces of evil, but for the life of him he could not concoct the cure for a hangover.

Someone shook him to wake up. He told whoever it was to go away, at least he think he said that. His tongue felt thick and swollen and the syllables weren't coming out right. But he waved the person on anyway, attempting to tell them the dreams of sexual ravishment were much more interesting than the waking world.

That's when Mina lost her temper. She proceeded to dump a full bucket of soapy water over his head.

"God damn woman I'm trying to sleep here!" His ears were ringing as he sat up quickly. Too quickly. Carl's already throbbing head struck the base of the top bunk with an agonizing crack, one that made Mina wince. She doubled back, turning away from the enraged friar so that his flailing arms wouldn't catch her. "You bloody bastard! I'll tear you limb from limb!"

Carl rolled off the bunk, landing in a heap on the floor. He jumped to his feet, armed with a silver stake and a bottle of ale he had kept hidden in his sleeve from the night before. Mina gave him a warning glare as he tried – and failed – to remain calm.

"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded, crossing his arms in what Mina found to be a larger version of a child when they don't get their way.

"We've arrived, by the way. The Captain wants us off so he can continue to his destination as soon as he can."

Carl hesitated a moment, unfolding his arms. "Well, in that case…you could have avoided the bucket."

"I doubt that very much, friar," Mina said. "Now let's get going. We have a lot to do, and there is very little time left."


He crawled when he couldn't walk, and he slept when he passed out from exhaustion. Sleep would come to him every now and then, just long enough for Elizabeth to toy with his memories and thoughts, manipulate his mind to her bidding. He had lost track of the hours, maybe because he wanted to or because they had just slipped from him as everything else had.

The sun was on his left now, setting in the West. Setting, he thought. The sun setting meant that time for him was running out. It meant that his hours as a human were numbered, and his biological clock was starting to break.

Gabriel came to a stop, kneeling as the world spun madly around him. It was all he could do. His body had stopped, the weight of the world crushing every bone in his mangled body. What was the point in continuing forward? Every step led him in her direction. Every time he put his foot forward he played her game of cat and mouse, and for a while he had thought himself the cat. But she was winning now, probably watching him through his own two eyes, smirking coyly as she won her game and slowly started to eat him alive.

He lurched forward again, lying on the ground motionlessly, as the dream consumed him again. The snow whipped around him as the cold wrecked his body with shivers. And suddenly, out of the darkness came the pure white blanket that lay underneath Mina's black clad figure, and there was her whispering voice again, calling for him to come to her.


Carl opened the door without knocking, just like he always did. He stepped inside, babbling hurriedly about the Cardinal wanting Gabriel to get dressed and meet him in his office. "I tried to tell him you were still moping around this bloody room but he wouldn't listen to me…Van Helsing?"

The friar had taken notice that Gabriel was still lying on the bed, his bandaged back facing the door and his head buried into the flattened pillow. "Van Helsing, are you alright?"

Gabriel muttered something. Carl inched closer cautiously, having seen Van Helsing in action and not wanting to tempt the man into something violent. Gabriel repeated what he had just said. "It's not coming back."
"What's not coming back?" Carl asked, taking another step closer.

"Take a wild guess, Carl," Gabriel said, looking over his shoulder. "I sit in this room, day after day, and I can't remember a God damn thing."

"It'll come back."

"No!" Gabriel said, sitting up suddenly. "It's not coming back! None of it! I'm twenty or thirty something years old and I have only two weeks of life in my head. I could have a family or something out there but instead of looking I'm trapped down here in this rat infested hell-hole with nothing to go on but these dreams!"

Carl didn't know what to say, if anything. He allowed Van Helsing to vent as much as he liked.

"I can write in twenty different languages," Gabriel said, pointing shakily at the desk in the corner where pieces of parchment were piled messily. "I can speak in many others and understand books in more dialects than some of the priests know." He took a deep breath, staring at Carl with his pain filled stare. "I know how to handle a gun; how to fight with a sword…I know that from this angle I can incapacitate you in two different ways without you being able to defend yourself. I know all of these useless things, these disconnected instincts, but I don't know who the hell I am!"

The friar's mouth went dry. He took a step back from the bed, small and insignificant, but enough that his chances of escape were increased.

"I'm not going to see the Cardinal," Gabriel said, standing up from the bed. "I'm getting out of here, and you're going to help me."

"And how are you going to do that?" Carl asked, taking another step back from the advancing patient. Gabriel didn't say anything. His instincts told him how to move. He threw Carl into the wall by the door and knocked his head against the stones, looking around the room.

"Well that was easy."


Author's Notes: I haven't died. I've merely been in a state of hibernation. But now I've returned to public life and I've another chapter to show. Sorry about the review responses. I did receive them all but I figured everyone would want to see this before the answers to their reviews. To Grissom, my beta, if you're reading this you have to know that my e-mail is royally screwed because of a virus. When it's all fixed I'll get your e-mail and make my revisions as I need to. Thanks so much!

Thank you to all the readers who stuck with this story after a month of no update. I am terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, it was not my intention. Now please, enjoy.