Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story pertaining to Van Helsing are the property of Stephen Sommers. This is an amateur writing effort. It is for entertainment purposes only.
Chapter 11: Cages, Wolves, Smoke, and Fog
There was a golden rule, one rule that he was never meant to break. He was to never interfere, under any circumstances, unless ordered to. Everything that happened was meant to happen, and his decisions based on mortal morality were not helping at all. Gabriel wished they would pay attention to his propositions once in a while, but his superior ruled with an iron fist, and he knew better than to question him.
But there was a lingering feeling of danger that haunted him. He watched over the house, day and night, watching over the two occupants inside. The lights were on well into the night so it was easy to observe them. He would watch them through the windows, their eyes impassioned by their work. It was something about them that fascinated him, that kept him focused, that kept him coming back over and over again.
It sounded creepy, but he loved watching them. He loved seeing them together, seeing them apart, seeing them in general. It was nice to see her walking down a quiet street in her large dresses, wide rimmed hats, with a smile on her face as she spoke with friends and shopped in the large stores. It was comforting to see him in his study, searching through books with his tie hanging loosely around his throat as he read and re-read papers from clients. It gave him a feeling of normalcy, something his superior could not.
"Eventually you are going to have to accept the two different worlds, Gabriel," his superior said, coming up behind Gabriel. The two stood on a rooftop over London, looking down into the street where the two were walking arm-in-arm. "And you are going to have to come to terms with the fact that you can only exist in one."
"It's boring that way," he replied, "to exist in one world. I can't stand the thought of becoming someone as anal retentive as you."
His superior laughed lightly. Gabriel did as well, smiling into the night.
"Life just doesn't hold the same meaning for me anymore, not like it once did." Gabriel shrugged a little. "A long time ago it was so much more invigorating. The thrill of the hunt…the smell of the forest…" He closed his eyes in reflection, thinking back to the good old days. "It was so much more enjoyable than sitting here in wait, just praying that tomorrow the sky falls so you have something to do."
The man shrugged. "Perhaps. But that's only if you look at in terms of atheism. A life of God always has purpose, Gabriel. Every second is necessary for a great plan He decides upon."
"In that world," Gabriel pointed to the people beneath him, walking through the bustling streets. "In that world everything matters. A man on the street has a purpose in that world. But we don't. We are 'observers', we are guardians, but we do not have a purpose in their world."
"How can you say that?" the man asked surprised. His eyes narrowed but his face didn't wrinkle. "How can you say that we hold no purpose in those lives? Open your eyes and look at them, Gabriel. Watch them carefully, those two people who you are so deeply interested in. Look at where they are walking, Gabriel, look at where they are all walking." Gabriel followed them with his eyes, and they lead him directly to the Church two blocks over. He rolled his eyes at the point the man was trying to make. His superior walked to Gabriel's side and stared straight ahead. "We have a purpose in their lives, just as everything does. We are to be their shadows, Gabriel, nothing more. Merely the air they breathe and the water they drink, the earth they walk upon, the sky they stare at…we are the comfort when they cry, the cure for their fears…and while you scoff about having no purpose down there, those people cling to the thought of you. That is our purpose Gabriel. That is our reason for existence. Down there, in the hearts and minds of those people exists our divine purpose."
"You were a priest while you were alive, weren't you?" Gabriel said with a smile. His superior glanced at him and smiled as well. "Hell, I would have become Catholic with that speech."
The dream yielded to storm clouds, as the face of his superior faded off into the distance. Gabriel felt the rain tumble over his skin and through his hair, cascading over his body as his wings flapped powerfully against the strengthening winds. The shadowed figure flew towards him once more.
"Here we go again," Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes, just as the conversation and battle took place again. His wings snapped in half and pain consumed him from the toes all the way to his head, and suddenly he was falling through the storm clouds to the ground below.
White light spread through his vision as fresh snow tumbled blindingly around him. Mina's body appeared out of the fog, as she screamed his name desperately against the whistling winds.
And then there was darkness: soundless, sightless, and painless.
Mina pushed her bow into the wolf's mouth as her only line of defense. She propped her back against the bars of the cage and hooked her heeled boots onto the bow to keep the wolf at bay. It bit down hard on the aging wood, splintering it within its jaws. She pressed harder against the giant wolf, knowing the bow would break any second and there would be nothing between her and the beast's mouth.
And she knew the stories of vampires who had been bitten by werewolves. No amount of Excalibur would save her from that fate.
"There's a man up there inside with it!" The voices down below were calling back and forth to one another, loud enough to be heard over the cocking of rifles and pistols as they prepared to fire. Mina groaned. Would someone shoot this damn thing and fast! She pushed herself upwards towards the top of the cage and gripped the bars, fumbling with the heavy hook that suspended it in the air. There was nothing else to do but wait and hope that someone decided to pull the trigger.
The bow snapped in three parts, quickly tumbling to the bottom of the cage. Mina gripped the walls on her prison, staring directly at the beast that would be the death of her. It growled and seemed to smile at the sight of her, craving the taste of her flesh more than anything else in the world. She shivered at the thought of being consumed and concentrated only on the anger that came with the idea.
"I will not die here," she vowed silently to herself. "Not in a cage."
The wolf pounced just as Mina started to transform. It started at her legs, moving up from her boots to her thighs. Her toes lengthened into claws, white as marble with blue and purple veins running up her legs. When the wolf reached her body her stronger legs forced him back, throwing him against the opposite wall of the cage, knocking it senseless for a moment.
Bullets started firing from below, waking Mina from her trance. Her legs reverted back into their normal form, but she was left shaking and shivering from the other side of the wolf's body.
She had never transformed into one of those creatures. Her body had always become bats, and only when she commanded it to. She had lost control a moment ago, enough to have been completely-if not temporarily-consumed by the darkness that flowed through her veins.
The wolf suddenly came back to his senses. It threw itself onto its hind legs just as a bullet flew into the ropes holding the cage in the treetops. Mina felt it lurch in the direction of the wolf just as it started to fall, and she had to grip onto the wall to avoid being eaten alive. Her body moved upwards as the wolf clawed its way in her direction, climbing up the steeping wall to see the ground coming closer with every passing second.
Mina closed her eyes and braced for impact.
Carl was very proud of himself. He had fired a gun and actually hit something. It made him smile. It made him feel special.
Until he realized he had hit the rope holding the cage up into the tree.
It was hard to tell this of course, since the whole event happened so quickly he wasn't sure if it was his bullet or another that had actually caused the rope to snap. But after a brief calculation of his position and the size of bullet he had been using, he realized that it must have been him. And though the thought of actually hitting something was gratifying to the friar (who had been told by the 'almighty king of shooting' Gabriel Van Helsing that he wouldn't be able to hit an elephant if was standing in front of him), he couldn't help but become very worried about the state Mina Harker would be in once she emerged from the cage.
Cursing, Carl ran towards the falling cage, finding himself lost within a crowd of men. They were all shouting, pointing, running around frantically trying to find something to do. The friar squinted at the shape within the cage, the one he thought was Mina (although it was hard to see because of the giant mound of fur and teeth that lay beneath her in a heap) and just prayed for an answer. Must…do…anything!
Impact…
Carl had a habit of surprising him. He would always come up with a weapon that was absolutely perfect for his needs. There was the gas powered crossbow for Dracula's brides, the silver bullets for the thousands of werewolves he had killed throughout the ages, the sword for Morgan le Fey…
Carl had a weapon for every occasion, just as Gabriel Van Helsing did.
His first hunt was in Italy, not far outside Rome. The landscape was dotted with vineyards and farms for as far as the eye could see, and did not relent until he reached another bustling port or town filled with growing industry and churches. Nighttimes were absolutely beautiful in Italy as well, especially when there were no more buildings to obstruct your view, no more steeples to block out the moon and the stars from viewing.
Gabriel felt alive when he was outside the city walls. He felt like a fraction of his former self, or at least he thought he did. He wasn't entirely sure if the happiness that spread throughout his entire body was from a past life or from being away from the Vatican. Either way, he was content on those dusty roads that crisscrossed between properties, happier than he could ever remember being in his entire life.
The first mission was werewolves, of course. They ran rampant throughout the wilderness at sunset, as long as the full moon was visible in the sky.
The hunter stopped short at a crossroads, pulling his pistol out from his jacket. He was focused entirely, embracing his instincts as he attempted to track down the wolf.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" he chanted under his breath, willing the animal to come out of hiding. He cocked his pistol, looking around quickly to avoid missing anything. A single movement could lead him in the right direction, or so his instincts told him. Of course, they were instincts. He couldn't trust his conscious mind right now, considering the fact that he had yet to retrieve a single memory since waking up in the Vatican.
He wanted out of God's eyes, but he couldn't explain why.
A long howl rang out from behind him as the animal charged. Gabriel whipped around on horseback, firing expertly. The four or five rounds her fired hit their mark, causing the beast to catch flame and explode before it could land on him.
So it began…
Gabriel felt like he was floating. He could smell thick smoke whether he was conscious or unconscious, a fact that made his throat and nostrils burn even more. He choked on his saliva, sending him into a coughing fit temporarily, one that was abated by the feeling of cold water being poured down his throat.
He could hear voices above him. Once again, his instincts took hold. There were three women: one sitting and two standing, each of them nearby. The only gentlemen spoke seldom, but when he did the whole world fell silent to his words. Words that I can't make out, he thought, straining to clear his senses enough to listen in.
One of the women left the room, and by the sounds of her footsteps, she was angry, probably forced out of the conversation by the stern sounded gentleman and even stricter sounding lady. The other woman stammered, but stopped short mid-sentence. She was worried about something, but what could she possibly be worried about?
The fact that you have a centuries-old vampire elder chasing you might be a good reason. He squinted, finally realizing what Carl meant when he said that his sarcasm was inappropriate. His mind laughed, replying with a quick, it's not sarcasm. It's truth.
God damn it I'm outsmarting myself, Gabriel thought angrily. He tried to open his eyes again but found that they were too heavy, as if someone had tied them shut. Every time he tried to move he found an overstuffed pillow in his path, probably to keep him immobile and still for the healing process. Gabriel groaned quickly. He hated the healing process. Carl had once told him that Gabriel hadn't the faintest idea of how to recover correctly. By the time Gabriel could ask Carl what he meant, he discovered that the friar had drugged him. Carl paid dearly for his moment of fun however, when he came down with a case of the flu that left his bedridden for a week. Every chance Gabriel got he slipped something into Carl's food. The poor friar could barely go ten seconds without passing out again from some of his own potions. When he did get better Gabriel told him it was getting a taste of his own medicine. Carl burned the hunter's eyebrows off 'accidentally' the next time they were alone together.
The door open and shut as the man and woman left, dismissing themselves politely enough. The woman walked back to the bedrooms and had a few words with 'Angry Girl'. A door slammed. The conversation was obviously over.
Gabriel sighed deeply as the darkness consumed him once more.
"Ow…"
"She's awake."
Mina blinked. The dim sunlight flooded into her eyes as she attempted to regain to clarity. Everything was blurry, dancing around in brightly coloured shapes amidst the trees. The cold breeze made her shiver, even through she was fairly sure she was wrapped in layers and layers of blankets.
"You're either the bravest woman I've ever met in my life," someone began, just above her. Mina managed to catch sight of black curls before she had to close her eyes again. "Or the craziest."
Laughter. Oh, leave me alone. God, my head hurts.
"Mina?" Carl asked. She knew that voice at least. It was the soft and sometimes pathetic one. The one that made her smile even though she was still regretting ever waking up. She finally sat up slowly, gripping her head with every inch that she moved.
"What the hell happened?" She asked; her voice was quiet.
"Well that answers my question! She's British: crazy and brave." More laughing. Mina hissed and looked at Carl who was hunched over beside her.
"I may have shot the rope holding up the cage," he said guiltily, but then became impassioned in an attempt to defend himself. "But it killed the werewolf!"
"Wonderful," she said, getting back to her feet. The coat that had been wrapped around her wasn't hers. It was leather and fur lined; something that one of the gentlemen around her wore. Feeling as if she were betraying her current lover, she peeled the coat off her.
"Wouldn't do that," a man said, pulling it back over her shoulders. "Temperature's dropping and you took a nasty knock on the head. Better keep that on a little while longer." He walked around in front of her, inspecting her with an intense gaze. Mina felt naked suddenly and shied away, crossing her arms over her dress shirt and coat. The man smiled, bemused by her appearance. He was tall and thin, muscular from what Mina could tell. His body was toned by hunting probably, the most likely activity for him to partake in that far out from civilization. His hair was short and hung in tight ringlets close to his scalp and he had the makings of a beard of his chin, the sort of stubble one got from a day or two of not shaving. They must have been out here for a while, Mina thought, but said nothing. She was too distracted by his hazel eyes, the ones that bore into her own so deep she felt like he could see her soul.
One of the men said something in Transylvanian. The smiling man nodded and replied, just as quickly. Mina looked at Carl for help, but he just shrugged, inching closer to her. The men moved towards their horses and started saddling up.
"Forgive me," the smiling man said. "I am Dominick Matyas." He bowed deeply, rising before continuing. "And who might you be?"
There was no use in lying. "Mina Harker," she said. Dominick smiled and took up her hand, placing a small kiss on it. She took it away quickly, shakily, unsure of how to react. Dominick didn't seem offended at all. He backed off immediately, turning towards the friar.
"And who's your small companion?"
Carl looked up at the gentleman. "I'm not small."
"Pardon than sir," Dominick said, trying not to laugh. "You're name?"
Carl still looked offended. Mina answered for him. "This is Carl."
"Carl," he said with a nod. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. I never expected to go on a hunt and come back with such a lovely prize."
Mina blushed again. She had never received so many compliments before in one conversation. And Gabriel did call her beautiful. He just never said it so…so...
Poetically? She found herself inarticulate with Dominick's hazel eyes boring into her flesh. He couldn't tell could he? Did the pale skin give away her secret? Did her fierce eyes and flush cheeks tell of the evil inside her she dare not speak of? She prayed that it didn't. Staring at her with those wild, impassioned eyes was one thing. Staring at her because she was a vampire was a completely different matter.
"Storm's brewing, little brother," another man said, dragging forward several horses from the thicket of trees. "We better get going. As should you." He looked directly at Carl and Mina when he spoke.
"Heading in our direction?" Dominick asked.
"Depends on which way your direction is." Mina spoke eloquently. She prayed that they would keep as far away from Dominick Matyas as possible.
"Vaseria," his brother said. "And you better consider changing your plans. Snow storms hit hard and fast here. Our weather mimics our beasts." He mounted a horse and looked down at both Mina and Carl. "Besides, a young woman and a friar wouldn't want to be lost in a Transylvanian forest at night."
"You think I can't defend myself?" Mina asked him, eyes narrowing. The man on the horse shook his head. He was taller than Dominick with longer curls that came down past his ears. He had the same intense eyes and more of a beard as well.
"I never said that," he replied, offering a horse to Dominick. "From the little stunt you pulled today I know you can defend yourself. Not many women would be able to survive being locked in a cage with a balverine. But there are other dangers in this forest to look out for." The wind howled. Carl shivered. The brother smiled cruelly.
"The Countess hunts tonight."
"The Countess doesn't scare me," Mina said. Dominick grinned.
"British women," his brother said, rolling his eyes, "More crazy than courageous. Come with us to Vaseria tonight, and we will see how you fair against the countess."
Mina smiled coolly, an expression she rarely used. "Transylvanian men. Their bark is worse than their bite."
She walked off into the forest to fetch the horses.
It feels good to get the last word.
