I now have several stories started on fictionpress, my penname is foxfirelightswitch.... just letting you know. If you were really bored or something, they'd be good reading, see? This is like a public service announcement or something.

Chapter Eleven: A Whole New World (like the Disney Song)

"Carl Carl Carl Carl Carl!"

"Whaa?"

"Wake— up!"

"Stop hitting me!"

"Then wake up!"

"I said stop hitting me!"

"I said wake up!"

"Stop hitting me and I will wake up!"

"Wake up and I'll stop hitting you!"

"We appear to be at a bit of an impasse," said Carl, eyes still closed, holding a finger up. "Where are we?"

"The more appropriate question would be when are we," corrected the voice of Van Helsing.

"Alright then, pedant, when are we?"

"Thursday, I think."

Carl groaned and forced his eyes open. "We appear to be in a dark alley, sitting on cold stone of some sort. What makes you think this is Thursday?"

"It must be Thursday," said Van Helsing. "I never could get the hang of Thursdays."

Carl groaned again and pounded the ground with his fist. "Wait till I get my hands on that Writer! I told her to stop stealing lines from Hitch Hiker's Guide."

"I'm guessing," said Van Helsing, "that she doesn't want to."

Carl stood up and began to walk towards the light, hoping it was in fact an alley and not the proverbial tunnel-with-a-light-at-the-end. In fact, just in case it was the proverbial tunnel— shouldn't he be walking the other way? Just to make sure. He hesitated, and Van Helsing, who'd been following closely, ran into him, knocking him forward into the street.

Carl picked himself up, glaring at Van helsing, who was ignoring him and staring at the world around them.

"Where are we?" he asked, amazed.

As if in answer to his question— in fact, it was in answer to his question, a group of letters appeared in midair. They said, in fancy script, LONDON, 2005.

Carl and Van Helsing looked at each other. "Did you see that?" they asked in unison.

"Did we make it?" Carl asked, dazed.

"I can't believe your invention worked!" said Van Helsing.

"What— why can't you?" snapped Carl irately. "My inventions always work. That's why I'm the Vatican's official inventor."

"Nooo, you're the Vatican's official inventor because you blow things up at least once a week and the monks, frankly, could do with the entertainment."

"Well, you're the Vatican's monster hunter because you threatened to blackmail Jinette if he didn't give you a good job. What of it?"

"Never mind, Carl."

"Don't you tell me to never mind, you tall, bloody-minded, glorified murderer!"

"Don't call me a tall, bloody-minded, glorified murderer, you short, flippy-haired, glorified comic-relief person!"

"I begin to suspect," said Carl frostily, in what was clearly meant to be an insult, "that in a former life you were an accountant."

"Stop arguing and lets just find Dracula, okay?"

"Dracula?" shrieked Carl. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh— oh, wait. Okay."

Van Helsing looked at him quizzically. "You okay, Carl?"

"Fine, why?" said Carl brightly. "Lets go."

They began to walk down the street, taking in the scenery. Tall buildings surrounded them, and hundreds of people walked by, into, along with and, in some cases, on them.

Carl stiffened suddenly. "Van Helsing," he whispered frantically. "Look at that girl. She's wearing— trousers!"

"Yes, I noticed."

Carl beamed. "The wonders of the modern world," he proclaimed. "Ooh, look at that one! She's wearing short trousers!"

Van Helsing looked. Smiles appeared on the faces of both men.

"I like this century!"

"Carl—"

"Look at that one!"

"Carl, wipe that disgustingly lecherous smirk off your face."

"Van Helsing Van Helsing Van Helsing!"

"And quit bouncing up and down, you're embarrassing me."

"But—"

"Come on, we're looking for Dracula."

"Oh, all right." Carl gave up and followed meekly behind Van Helsing, staring at the pavement. Why bother looking, he reasoned, if—

He walked past Van Helsing, who had stopped completely still.

"Van Helsing? Van Helsing— what is it?"

Carl tried to figure out what his taller companion was looking at.

"It's her," said Van Helsing hollowly.

"Who?"

"Anna."

"Anna?"

"Anna."

"Anna!"

"Anna."

"Van Helsing, Anna is dead. You should know that, you killed her yourself. Sorry, was that inconsiderate of me?"

"Anna."

"Van Helsing—"

"Anna."

"Shut up! Stop saying Anna!"

"Anna."

Carl reached up and clapped a hand over Van Helsing's mouth. "When I let go, simply be quiet," he said. "Alright?"

"Rmmph," said Van Helsing muffledly. Carl let go. "Anna. Anna. Anna."

"It is not Anna." Carl finally figured out who Van Helsing was looking at. "It doesn't even look like Anna! Okay, maybe it does. But not really. And it can't be Anna, as, as I said, she's dead."

Van Helsing turned to him, very excitedly. "Carl, if I were to say to you three days ago that in three days time we'd be in the future, what would you have said?"

"Well— wait, three days from now or three days from then?"

"Carl."

"I probably would have said, Do you think we should pack a lunch?"

Van Helsing made a noise of dismissal that came from his nose and sounded like Aaaarghunk! He began to walk off. Carl stared after him.

By the time he began to try and follow, Van Helsing had been swallowed up by the crowd.