Author's Note: There's been a battle raging inside of me about whether or not this story should be a sequel to my previous work in this section called: In The Name of God and being that that battle has yet to be won by either side, I shall continue to keep this story purposely vague. I hope I am not burned at the stake too much for making Dracula appear more sympathetic then other "Vlad returns from Hell" stories and for making Karl a little more noble then he appears in the book or film. For both, blame Milton's Paradise Lost. I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Three: Absolution Sought

It was sometime before the stain glass was broken but after Gabriel sent the chair against the wall when Van Helsing released a pained, enraged scream that shook the windows and made Malik shrink back in amusement and fear. Pacelli remained staring at the window, hands folded behind his back, in thought. There was helplessness in the air that made everyone tense, and uncertain. The grand plan had failed, and the last dim hope was fast becoming something torn and dying. Malik stood in the far corner of the Cardinal's offices, resting against the wall weakly. His skin was raw and pink, not the usual bronzed hue, and his eyes were blacked out coal with only the slightest glimmer of fire shining like a pupil. IN this weakened state, Malik looked human, weak.

Which is how everyone felt.

"What do you mean he's human?" Gabriel asked coldly, knuckles clutching the back of the last remaining chair till they turned white.

Pacelli inhaled, and repeated the truth once more. "We didn't take into account the nature of hell. Tormenting the soulless has no purpose; therefore a Vampire has no place in perdition. His human self however…" Pacelli's voice turned cold, upset that Vladislaus had been so uncooperative. "His humanity is what the devil wanted. That's what was imprisoned, and what Malik brought back."

"So he's useless to us."

Malik cursed and stepped forward. "My results are never useless! You asked for the man who defeated Lazarus, which is what I delivered. You have but a sword, untried. The knowledge you need rests within the heart. You need to release it."

"How?" Pacelli asked quietly. He had turned from the window to stare at the Jinn.

"A Nightfeeder. Return him to his place as Vampire Count, and you shall have your sword anew."

Gabriel looked up, studying Pacelli's face. The Cardinal's cheek twitched slightly, as if a momentary objection had risen in throat and was silenced just as quick. "He's human now. It makes him an innocent." Pacelli prodded softly. "Our duty to the world is to protect the innocents."

"Are not humans born into sin?" Malik countered, like he was supposed to. "And this one, brought back, should be doubly-damned for his crimes. Why not use his fate for some good?" There was a cold smile that crossed the Jinn's features, making the innate fire within flare with amusement. "You speak of healing blood, and blood making all things new…give Vlad back his thirst for blood and you have your means to heal."

Pacelli turned and met Gabriel's eyes for a moment. "I need to think on these matters." He said finally. "We will discuss this later."

There was something queer about the scene, Karl thought, as he sat, watching Vladislaus Dracula while Pacelli and the others discussed matters he had no desire to understand. Dracula had adjusted himself to sit upright, and had pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his head and crossing his arms over his legs. For a long time, he had been mumbling something in a tongue that Karl later realized to be Romany. Without appearing so, Karl had leaned forward to strain to hear what Dracula's words had been. He had realized to his chagrin that Dracula was praying.

Not to Satan, but to God.

Now, hours later it seemed, Vladislaus had stopped and just sat in his ball in silence. He pushed down legs, and touched his chest with the tips of his fingers, gingerly at first as if unfamiliar with his hand, his skin, his senses. Then, Vlad slid his hand flat over his chest, opening his mouth in wonder at the heart that beat under his flesh.

"It stings." He whispered suddenly, making Karl jump.

"Wha…what?" Karl asked, dumbly. He pushed himself up against the wall to stand in a feeble attempt to appear commanding. He wondered how opposing he could seem to the man who had once ruled nations.

"My…heart." Dracula whispered, in his familiar rough Gypsy brogue. Karl couldn't tell if the pause on words came from the roughness of his voice, or Dracula's hesitation on using English. The idea of Dracula being nervous when using English struck Karl as profoundly human. Whatever his musings however, Vladislaus was too concerned with his heart to care. He whispered the word twice more as if awed to be in possession of the muscle. "It hurts so much…" He looked up, staring at Karl with simple, trusting brown eyes devoid of all ire. "Father, do you take confession?"

"What?"

Dracula motioned weakly to his heart. "Confession. I seek absolution." A long pause. "For my sins…"

He can't be serious, Karl thought in awe. He's…well, certainly he must know who he is. Karl was quiet for a long time before walking towards Vladislaus and squatting down to be eye level with the prisoner. Karl kept his voice low, as if he were addressing a mad animal rather then the most hated of all monsters. "Do you truly seek absolution?"

Dracula looked up with the clearest brown eyes that for a moment lulled Karl into a feeling of security and sympathy. There was no hate behind those eyes, Karl noted, and despite his better judgment, the friar reached over to touch his cheek tenderly and push the hair from Dracula's face. Dracula exhaled heavily and leaned into the touch, hungry for any small sign of compassion. He took this one with great enthusiasm despite the pain and exhaustion he must have felt.

"I will take your confession." Karl said. He wanted very much to comfort the man, so much so, that had he the power in that moment- Karl would have released Dracula from his binds and sought a nurse. As it was, Karl could only offer the meager reprieve of a Confession. Gingerly, he crossed himself, calling to mind the proper words. "Bless you, son."

Dracula made a movement to mimic Karl in and cross himself but his chains held him fast. Vladislaus blinked back laughter and tears and looked over at Karl, before shifting to sit up straight on his knees. "For…forgive me, Father. I have sinned."

Karl shut his eyes, attempting to keep fear from his voice. "And what are your sins?"

Dracula's voice came through the darkness, shaky and emotion-choked. There was a tender panic that thickened his accent, making his ethnicity and unfamiliarity with English more evident. Sometimes Karl would catch words in an older form of Romanian but it was quickly silenced as if Dracula feared invoking something of his Gypsy past would aid in his damnation. "I…I have damned myself, Father. I believe I have sold myself to something terrible…and old. I was a fool to believe I could stop it, could hinder it someway, but now Father…I fear it has overtaken me." A shudder. A prayer in Romany, then continuation. "My Gods have forsaken me, my Lady falls silent when I need Her most, ignoring my faithful service. I have nowhere else to turn to. No one else can save me but you…they have abandoned me. I stood too long by their altars, clung too long to my ancient believes that now I wait here for my death." He looked up at Karl again. "Alone. Even Gabriel has abandoned me." There was a terror that filled his brown eyes, making him appear so terribly young. "I would doubt that stars and Angels existed, but never…never would I have imagined a instance that would part me from Gabriel. Father, if you know tell me what terrible thing has past to cause this. Tell me what has transpired, and for God's mercy tell me what is my sin?"

Karl shuttered. "You do not know?"

"I have such terrible visions." Dracula whispered, hoarsely. "Sensations and illusions from Satan himself." His eyes shut as his face twisted into pain. He forced the next words out. "I…taste…blood…Father. On my lips, in my mouth…I want to scream but I cannot. There's such terrible pain, a…a hunger…somewhere deep inside as if Satan himself has nestled within me." He touched his mid-section then, gingerly, and afraid to awake whatever specter awaited him. "It's a monster, as dark as night and just as cold. So hungry…so voracious, that I cannot fight him. I feel him…mocking Gods and men, tearing out of me and reaching skyward as if he means to tear down heaven with his claws." No longer able to contain the terror and pain, Vladislaus slumped forward, into Karl's arms and broke into sobs. "Such terrible thoughts, Father! Such tastes! Tell me you can give absolution…tell me you can release me from these crimes that cannot be mine!"

Karl rocked Dracula in silence, rubbing small circles on Vladislaus' back. He wanted very much to grant absolution, to promise peace and Zion to Dracula but knew, somehow, somewhere, that no redemption could be sought for crimes like Dracula's. But the believer him challenged the cynic. He was a man of God, and what right had he to deny Christ's mercy to anyone, regardless of their sins.

Or was the mercy of the Nazarene only for a select few.

Karl made up his mind then that he would do whatever was in his power to help Dracula.

"Have faith, my son…the crimes you speak of belong to a dead man. They have no part of you now." Karl whispered, quietly. "Your days of fighting are over."

"There's still one more battle." Called a cold voice from the doorway.

Karl and Dracula looked up, directly at Gabriel who had spoken. He was regarding Karl with a dark, hateful glare although the rest of his face was mask. He turned behind him, to where Pacelli and Malik were; all three had been keeping watch but for how long Karl couldn't say. From some unknown well within him, Karl drew courage and tightened his grip around Vladislaus. The man responded by leaning closer to Karl. They never once looked at each other. There had been an understanding made somewhere in the moments between; a deep unfettered trust that whatever awaited them, they would face together.

Gabriel looked down, replacing his hat on his head and nodding grimly. There was a new look on his face, a resolute veneer had taken his features and fixed them on a course of action but whatever the intentions were was unclear.

"You do not to weight the matter," Gabriel told Pacelli, "We're leaving."

"He's no use in this condition." Pacelli reminded him and Gabriel ignored him.

"Send word to the others to amass in Thessalonica. We'll be there after we take a small detour in Naples."

"And what's in Naples?"

"Not what." Gabriel told him, "Who." Gabriel turned and began to walk down the hall. "We'll meet Moshe there."

Pacelli's face darkened as he sought to match a face to the name, and then, as understanding hit the Cardinal did something that set Karl more on nerve then Gabriel's cool calm voice.

Pacelli smiled.