When they reached the archives, they found the third room empty of people and filled with scrolls, old tomes, and thousands of pieces of paper.
"Now that we're away from prying ears, care to tell me exactly what's going on?" asked Carl. Normally he would be briefed before Van Helsing's return from his last mission, but things were a little different this time.
The hunter pulled out a chair and sat, his back to the wall. "For the past few weeks, members of the Order have been found dead across Europe." Carl froze at the words. "Each man was found stripped, flogged, and nailed to the floor of his church in front of the altar, stretched out as if he were crucified. In addition, every man was stabbed below the rib cage on the right side."
"That's where the man in the church stabbed Michael," murmured Carl, face intent.
"Exactly."
"How many dead so far?"
Van Helsing heaved a sigh. "Twenty five." Carl gasped. "Six in England, three in Spain, nine in France, and seven, so far, in Italy. The killer has been moving southerly." Van Helsing frowned.
"What else?" asked Carl.
"Apparently one man - the man I saw today - is responsible for all these deaths. Jinette said that they receive word of a new death roughly every four days. There is also a picture of him - I'll get it for you. Apparently there was no obvious link between any of the victims either. They are all ages, with different specialties, and no physical connections, according to Jinette."
Carl frowned. "You said the man is moving toward Vatican City?"
"Apparently."
"Well, that doesn't make much sense."
"How so?" asked Gabriel, trying to see where Carl's deductive mind had taken him.
"Well, the Order is very widespread. This man is killing members of the Order, yet he is not killing all of them. He only killed three in Spain, while I know for a fact that there are most definitely over thirty members of the Order in Pais Vasco alone."
"Well, then his objective is not primarily to kill members of the Order."
"Is there any connection among the . . . deceased?" Carl hesitated on the last word, his unease showing.
"If there is we're going to have to look very hard to find it. We need more information about the victims," said Van Helsing. He stood. "I'm going to get a list of the dead from the Cardinal. Start with these archives - see if you can find anything. Look for a Father Williams, who was recently assigned to a chapel on the outskirts of Rome."
"Right."
Leaving Carl busily poring over a large tome, Van Helsing quickly sought out Cardinal Jinette. After obtaining the names of all Order members that had been killed, he attempted to use Carl's shortcut back to the archives.
Frowning, Van Helsing slipped out from behind a tapestry that he knew he'd never seen before. Gazing around, he found himself lost, again. Choosing a direction at random, he began to walk. At this point, he reasoned, it didn't really matter. Sooner or later, he would find himself in a familiar section of the complex.
Feeling his considerable patience waning, Gabriel opened the next door he came across, and found himself inside the chapel where he had first spotted the murderer. A frown creased his brow.
Something intangible was teasing at the back of his mind.
Walking toward the altar, Gabriel stopped, his hand coming to rest on the pew to his right.
He could feel the rough grain of the wood against his palm.
He could feel the evil that swirled around the creature dressed in white.
Gabriel blinked, pulling his hand from the wood. He looked warily at the pew. It was no different from any other. The color, texture, cut of the wood was ordinary, mundane. And yet, this particular area of the chapel felt . . . tainted. Strange as the sensation was, the knowledge that it was a familiar sensation was even more perturbing.
He frowned. Hesitating, Gabriel reached out a hand and placed it once more against the pew. Wrongness flooded through him, awakening things in the back of his mind. Van Helsing clamped his fingers determinedly around the wood.
The creature snarled, blood dripping from its fingers. Red lines were scored across the thing's body. For all it looked like a man, it couldn't have been more different.
The creature lunged, and Gabriel dodged. In a beautifully precise move, he turned and thrust the flaming object in his hand through the creature's heart.
It laughed. "You cannot defeat me! You have forgotten who you are! You have no power over me!"
Knowing the lies for what they were, Gabriel reached out, reached beyond, to bring the full extent of his power, his being, against this creature.
Pain. Something was wrong. So much pain! What was happening? This was not right!
Gabriel barely had time to realize the attack before consciousness was ripped from him.
Gabriel pulled his hand from the pew, and stared at it. In his senses, this bench was dripping with evil, corrupting the entire atmosphere of the church.
Shaking his head, he turned from the pew and swiftly left the church. Nothing short of an exorcism stood a remote chance of cleansing the chapel now. He needed to talk to Carl.
Pushing his memories away for now, Van Helsing quickly made his way through the friars' chambers. On his arrival in the archives, he found Carl muttering to himself in front of a large map.
"What's this?"
Carl turned to fix surprised eyes on his friend. "I've just been trying to see if there's a pattern of any sort. I've marked the location of each death, yet there's no correlation that I can see."
Van Helsing also gazed at the map. "He's meandering all over Europe," the hunter murmured.
"Indeed. There's no straight-line path, pattern, or symbol marked out by his route."
"It's strange. Almost as if he's . . . looking for something."
"What?" Carl was caught off-guard by the absent remark. "What do you mean?"
"Well, look at it. He's killing precisely, yet seemingly at random within countries. Yet once he's done with a specific nation, he leaves and doesn't return. His general direction is also pointedly southward. It's systematic, in a way. He's searching, and eliminating."
But there was more to it than that; Carl could see it in the hunter's eyes. There was a buried awareness, of something . . . out of reach. "That's not all, is it?" the friar demanded.
Gabriel said nothing, staring blindly at the map.
"Van Helsing!"
The man in question jerked, blinked, and took a deep breath. "I - can't be sure."
Carl was anxious. His confident, almost cocksure friend was displaying signs of uneasiness, and more worryingly, insecurity.
"I just - I have this feeling that he's looking for something."
"Something he thinks the Order has knowledge of? Or possession of?" Carl mused, trying to connect the factors.
"I don't know."
"Well it would make sense. Maybe if I research more the sites of the murders rather than the victims . . .."
Van Helsing nodded. "From what Jinette has already told me, any connecting factors between the dead would be random, and difficult to locate."
It was an unspoken agreement between them that, knowing the thoroughness of Jinette's scribes, their effort would be better spent researching in a different direction.
"Ah." Van Helsing said, hours later. The two had spent their time poring over the scrolls and tomes, yet they had found nothing of much use. Carl was comprising a list of the locations, and what he deemed were relevant points about each town and chapel.
"What is it? Did you find something?" Carl's voice rose with excitement. Given the monotony of the past few hours, the discovery of any kind of connection would be exhilarating.
"No," Van Helsing responded. "I remembered that I was meaning to ask Father Anthony if he would perform an exorcism in the chapel."
"What?" Carl was annoyed.
"The entire part of the building - reeks. With evil." The hunter shrugged, unable to find a better explanation.
"Father Anthony is ill," Carl replied.
"Is there anyone else who-"
"A few. It depends on how badly the contamination has spread." Carl stood, and stretched.
"Where are you going?" asked Van Helsing, glancing up from the paper-strewn table.
"Well, you said you needed to find an exorcist, and I'm too tired to think any longer."
"Why do I have trouble believing that?" Gabriel interjected wryly.
"I'm going to go see for myself," Carl responded, ignoring the playful jibe.
"Carl? I'm not so sure that's a good idea. Carl!" Gabriel pushed himself to his feet, swearing lightly under his breath as he followed the friar down the passageways toward the chapel.
"Carl, I really don't think it's a good idea to let anyone into the chapel until there's been a chance to cleanse it."
"You went back in it."
"I've already been exposed to the evil there. I'm used to it. But it's getting worse." Their quick pace down the corridor didn't slow.
"Getting worse? How?"
"It's stronger each time I go in there. Like a festering wound."
"In that case, someone must evaluate it quickly and see who would be the best person to handle the rite."
"Not to tramp on your self-esteem Carl, but isn't this a little . . . out of your league?"
"You'd be surprised at what they teach us," the friar replied with a sniff. "But I'm not going to be the one evaluating. The Cardinal will."
"What?"
"You heard me," Carl continued resolutely. Van Helsing followed in his wake, slightly surprised.
By this time they had reached Jinette's chambers. Few were in the passageways, for it was now late in the evening. Carl knocked, and opened the door the instant the voice inside said, "Come."
"Carl," said the Cardinal. "And Van Helsing. What do you want?"
Carl entered the room, which was slightly larger than most, but almost as sparse as his own quarters. Van Helsing stayed by the door, tense and unhappy, though it didn't show in his face.
"We'd like you to come to the chapel, Cardinal." Carl's request was soft-spoken and reasonable.
"For what reason?"
"It needs to be exorcised. " Van Hesling's tone was harder, unyielding. Jinette frowned at him.
"How do you know this?"
"It's my job," said Van Helsing. The two men stared at each other for a short time, locked in a battle of wills. Jinette's expression relaxed ever so slightly, and he responded, "Very well."
The friar and hunter waited while the Cardinal stood and preceded them out of the room. The walk to the chapel was silent, the journey through the darkened halls almost eerie.
When they finally reached the doors, the Cardinal pushed one open slightly, and walked in. Carl followed without hesitation, and Van Helsing, giving the room a wary glance, followed them down the main aisle toward the altar.
Halfway there, Van Helsing froze. He looked to his right, and saw the pew in which the creature had sat that morning.
Jinette and Carl continued to the front of the chapel, unknowing that Van Helsing was far behind him.
"I sense nothing," said Jinette, turning around sharply. He paused, and looked over Carl's shoulder. Confusion shone in his eyes at not finding Van Helsing behind him. Carl, too, turned.
The hunter was standing stock-still in the center aisle of the church, paying no heed to the holy men at the altar. He was staring, facing the right side of the church, pale features fixed on the pew in front of him.
"Van Helsing?" Carl asked.
The hunter made no response.
Shooting a concerned look at the Cardinal, Carl walked toward the hunter, aware of Jinette's footsteps right behind him.
"Van Helsing?"
The hunter blinked, looking at them. His face was pale, a sheen of sweat glistening over his skin. "Can't you feel it?" he whispered hoarsely, disgust rippling across his features.
Carl shook his head, taking a step forward. "Gabriel?" he asked, placing a hand on the other's arm.
Carl froze, and his face went dead white. He swayed, an ill expression crossing his face. "What -" he gasped, swallowing hard against the bile rising in his throat. "What is that?"
"Evil," said Van Helsing.
Jinette looked at the two with some concern. "Carl?" he asked, placing his own hand over the friar's, where it rested on Gabriel's sleeve. The cardinal stiffened with shock, and pulled his hand away.
"Carl, you must let go of Van Helsing. Now!" the older man ordered, voice lashing through the air. Carl started, and lost contact with the hunter. Almost immediately, color returned to his face. He staggered a few steps backward, and slumped in to a pew on the opposite side of the chapel.
"What was that? What happened?" he asked, voice quavering.
"I am far more concerned with why only you can sense this great evil," Jinette responded, staring hard at the hunter. "Why only contact with you allows us to feel it."
"Regardless," said Gabriel, voice still hoarse, "this room needs to be exorcised."
Jinette shook his head. "How can we cleanse what we cannot sense? This is beyond the skill of any of the Order to fix. Until Father Anthony is well, we must close this chapel off."
"It will only grow in that time," Van Helsing insisted. "Is there any way to contain it, until the Father is well?"
Jinette shook his head. "Unless the evil emanated from a source, there is no -"
"There is a source." Van Helsing took a step forward. "He was sitting on this pew, and the wood is saturated."
"Where did he sit?" asked Carl, keen eyes searching for a clue.
"Here." Gabriel pointed, and then his hand dropped. He took another step forward, and Carl said, "Is that such a good idea?"
He hadn't finished asking his question before the hunter had placed a hand on the back of the pew.
The creature snarled as Gabriel approached. It looked up from the man writhing, naked, in his own blood.
Gabriel could see the man's agony as he came closer. The creature slowly backed away, eyes never leaving him. Yet the hunter's own gaze was fixed on the sufferer, ignoring the creature.
He knelt by the man's side, unaware that he knelt in a pool of blood. One hand reached out to gently stroke the tousled curls. The man groaned, and his eyes cracked open. Misery was painted across his face. "Please," the man whispered, eyes soft and begging. "Please."
Knowing what the man was pleading for, Gabriel nodded slowly. The man relaxed slowly, a brave smile trembling on the corners of his mouth. "It will be quick," Gabriel whispered. "Sleep."
A weapon appeared in his hand, and he plunged it into the man's heart. The body heaved once and relaxed beyond belief. The head lolled, eyes shut, and a small smile on his lips.
Gabriel turned and stood, glaring at the creature.
"The Destiny will be mine," it snarled. Gabriel advanced forward, encroaching upon the creature's space. It backed away, fear and defiance shining in its eyes. "You may be the Left Hand, but I am sent by a higher power. The Destiny will be mine!"
"There is no higher power," Gabriel snapped.
With a roar, the creature attacked -
Someone pried his hand from the pew. Gabriel blinked, and Carl's ashen, shaking form snapped into focus. Coming back to himself, Van Helsing quickly pulled away, knowing how adversely touching him affected those around him - for only through him could they sense the evil that was now almost overpowering.
"We must get out of here," Gabriel managed, forcing himself to keep from stumbling out the door. Jinette closed the heavy oaken doors, and stood staring at Van Helsing.
"What happened in there?" he demanded.
The hunter, his composure returned, glanced at the Cardinal. "I remembered - something."
"What?" Carl's voice was laden with curiosity.
Van Helsing frowned. "I'm not sure. I've met the creature before, that much is certain."
"Creature?" Jinette looked at him carefully.
"Yes." Gabriel's response was firm. "He may look like a man, dressed in white, but he is not human. He's something else."
"Vampire?" asked Carl, voice trembling. The two of them had had enough encounters with nosferatu, the undead, recently.
"No," Van Helsing replied with a terrible realization. Horror stained his tone. "Something much worse."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sorry about the excessive delay. I hit a snag, and had to rework the whole plot. Add to that what they DON"T tell you about wireless internet. In addition, I was attacked by a relentless plot bunny that forced me into Stargate SG-1 fanfiction for a time. So, the fruits of that labor, while almost finished, are posted. Sorry!
