Ragweed: Haha, I actually have a plot now! Aren't you happy for me!? You should all be happy!
Van Helsing: Ragweed, haven't you figured out by now in your tiny walnut of a mind that nobody gives a damn how sorry or happy or sad they're supposed to feel for you. They just want to read the freakin' story!
Ragweed: Shut up Gabriel. Thank you to Verona Dracula for the review (By the way I love your Van Helsing story) I'm a kissing up or what? I'm glad I got America's age right. We don't learn that here in Canada, I can however recite the Canadian anthem in French (and you care about that) Anyway, this is basically more story, so read…um, yeah…go ahead and read…why are you still here…read!


Crimson-Stained Shards of Memory

Chapter 3: Sympathy, or Something Like It

"'The darkness…the darkness,' mused Jack as his normally curious and childish voice became solid and undeniable. Tracing his hand over the painting longingly, the strange man twisted his neck to stare at the oil pigments on the canvas from another angle. 'In the darkest hours of the night, when I am alone and haunted souls come to torture to me, They come to speak to me. They, from that Fateful Day.'"--Memories Lost, Author Unknown

.:I:.

Whatever scrap of a heart lay dormant in Dracula's chest filled with a pain of unwanted feeling. He was waking up. The vampire would have given anything to remain asleep, dead to the world forevermore, never to wake into the hollow husk that was his body. As sensation returned to his body, he remembered where he was sleeping. The stone corridors of Castle Frankenstein were deathly silent. The silence itself seemed to hang from the intricate stone carvings of the rooms and massive corridors of the castle. Damn it, he hated the silence! The Count rolled his head to one side and the linens and duvet under his neck shifted. The silver erring on his left ear was pressed uncomfortable into the taut muscles in the side of his neck. His body was cold, but then again, it was always icy and cold wasn't it?

The massive room was decorated with excruciating detail down to the very last candlestick holder. A large oriental rug sprawled over the cold slate floor, only meeting the corner of the wall and floor near the massive fireplace that lay unlit for years. The mantle was solid oak, polished so that it shinned with rubbing oil. At each side of the mantel, two creatures stood carved into the oak, their tails curled at the floor, their bodies standing human-like until their heads reached the mantel-top. One was a wolf-like creature with muscular shoulders and tall, pointed ears; the other, had massive wings that flared from its back. His head was horribly disfigured; icy eyes stared across the mantle and seemed to gaze fixedly at the wolf-creature on the other side. The fireplace was certainly the most detailed thing in the entire room, despite the room's elegancy. Heavy, claret, velvet drapes hung lifelessly from the tall fogged windows, causing the sunlight to filter though a bleak white colour. Even though milky films of clouds covered the sun's white-foggy rays, Dracula didn't want to see any light right now; for with the light he would see himself and that he loathed right now.

In one corner of the room, the huge canopy bed lay made with large, silk-tasselled pillows and large colourfully-embroider duvet draped over the edges hitting the rug on the floor. Dracula lay curled at the edge of the massive bed, eyes closed, his pain-stricken face inches from the slate stone wall, his knees tucked near his chest. As the realization that he was awaking took hold of the Count he began to tremble uncontrollably. He knew that no matter how much he fought it, the fear would crawl into his mind and chill his body until he trembled with fear. Compared to the unworldly, terrific monster he had once been, he looked rather pitiful cowering in the darkness.

But then, Dracula's body became as tense as his muscles would allow. Something, some ancient instinct stirred within him. Obsidian black claws clung to the slate wall in anticipation, as if any moment he expected the Prince of Darkness Himself to jump out and impale his heart with a silver stake. Not that it would kill him, just fill him with more pain and unwanted feeling. Eyes of blazing, shimming emerald green glowed in the darkness. From the massive windows that lined one side of the room, small slivers of bleak sunlight cascaded into the room, casting a dim light allowing some kind of sight possible.

Senses alert, Dracula snapped upright, almost too fast for the human eye to follow. His eyes scanning the room feverishly. Summoning his strength, Dracula floated up on empty winds, the Count's black cloak billowing around him, until the tips of his boot clacked silently on the stone floor. His eyes could see the small varicose bodies of mice scurrying blinding around in the dark, their tiny heart beating madly, surging blood throughout their tiny bodies. Dracula concentrated his thoughts and his mind surged for a moment and the mice became inflamed with green St. Elmo's Fire. Squeaks and squeals could be heard as the little green-flamed mice scurried for safety. Now the room was thick with silence and the Count tried to block it out by concentrating on something else. Anything was better then the silence, anything. Dracula stood there for a moment, in the dim darkness, as he called upon memories of the previous night.

He had seen him; spoken to him; contacted him that night. Gabriel hadn't been asleep though. Instead, he had been in a half-conscious, sedative state as if he had been meditating. But Dracula was still able to reach him in his own sleep. Dracula suddenly shuddered and he grabbed his sides; sleeping was not one of his more pleasant experiences. Sleeping in an ice-encased casket by daylight had been what he had hated most. He would not go back to Castle Drakulya, too many memories lay embedded with in the halls of that icy fortress. Yet sleeping uncontained in the open, like the living humans did, gave him a sense of unease and almost paranoia. Dracula shivered once more as his thoughts returned to Gabriel. Stubborn man. He had offered him his memories, everything he needed to understand, and still he refused! Dracula backed into one of the slate walls. The cool stone sent a cold shiver spider-webbing throughout his body compared to the hot sweat that caused him to shudder now.

Dracula's mind raced with questions. Why wouldn't Gabriel take his memories? Why didn't he want to know?

Because he's afraid, a voice whispered in Dracula's head.

"What do you mean 'he's afraid?'" he said aloud, his mouth still readjusting to speech.

He's afraid of what he'll remember, answered the voice coolly yet spitefully at the same time. Almost toying with Dracula's emotions, what little of them there were. Afraid to find out about the people he loved. He's afraid of those he will remember, what happened to them. Afraid to remember what he did to you.

Dracula cringed with memories he had long-stopped grieving over and he pushed off the stone wall in anger. As if by his will a wind blew through and the giant twin doors to the Master Bedroom flew open like child's play slamming violently into the walls of the hallway. The grey light from the milky-clouded sky blinded him temporarily, yet he remained unfazed and quickly paced down the hallway, his black cloak fluttering out around him. But the voice still remained with Dracula as he walked the echoing, bare rooms of the deserted castle. Almost everything was gone save the piles of dead leaves that lay piled in the corners of the room and lined the floors. All rooms except the Master Bedroom and the library had sub-come to robbery by now.

The voice in Dracula's head remained cool and formal as it continued, Gabriel doesn't want his memories back because he doesn't want to feel the pain he caused you. You were there when you offered his memories to him, without any trouble to him, you felt it, I know you did. You could feel it within him, you sensed it in his heart. He knows he did something to you. He knows he did something more then murder you. More then take your ring. Think of the pain he caused you. The pain he caused Samantha. He doesn't want that guilt.

Dracula bristled with more hate as he stomped aimlessly though the winding corridors, "Well he deserves it!" he yelled aloud, his voice twisted into a terrible hiss.

The voice replied conspicuously calm, Yes, yes he does deserve it. But he is too weak, too pitiful. The living are that way. Easily vulnerable to injury and illness. You know that. You were there in his dream. He couldn't stand you there. Yet he was able to kill you in reality--this only made Dracula's rage grow--That is his weakness. His dreams.

Anger welled up in Dracula's stomach, mixed with some long-lost hint of an emotion he did not recognize. His fury flared and the entire corridor became alive with the green, supernatural glow of St. Elmo's Fire sweeping along the stone hallways. The intense green flame died as it swept across in a straight line, traveling further and further in every direction. But Dracula couldn't suppress the persisting truth that gnawed in the back of his mind.

"Not everything is Gabriel's fault, though," Dracula whispered and his voice wavered as he said it, as if ashamed to say the words, which he was.

Whatever power the voice in his head had surged with a throbbing pain, and Dracula clawed at the sides of his head, trying to make the pounding in his mind stop. He had expected the voice, whoever it was, would not be happy with that remark.

Why do you defend him?! He murdered you Vladislaus. Murdered you! And Samantha! I do not understand how you can have sympathy for this man, this unholy man who took everything away from you!

Sympathy. Dracula tossed the idea around in his head, testing the sharpness of its edges. The feeling was alien to him, as were most feelings, but this one he was unsure of. Perhaps it was sympathy, or something close to it. Dracula bit his lip, uncomfortable with the thoughts in his head. Too many memories lay implanted these thoughts. And he knew why he felt this. The thought was in Dracula's mind, but he refused to speak it. It would do nothing to help him at this point. But somehow the voice knew what the Count was thinking….

Because he was your friend? the voice taunted with cruel mockery. Hmm? Oh, great Count Vladislaus Drakulya.

Dracula felt what reminates of a heart he might have had sink to his stomach. The words stung him worse than any silver-stake or crucifix ever could. He felt more tears begin to burn in the back of his eyes and he boiled with rage once more. He screamed inwardly at himself for being so weak. What had happened to him?

In a blinded fury, Dracula slashed out with his claws at the stone wall, nearly hitting one of the small candelabras that burned with dripping wax candles and orange fire. In another brief fit, there was a flash and the corridor again became lit with unearthly and unnerving green glow of the St. Elmo's Fire that emanated from the vampires body and Dracula slammed back against the torch-lit corridor. He slid to the floor, the voice still taunting him.

Because four-hundred years ago, this man was you're friend?! Because four-hundred years ago, he was someone you trusted, someone you befriended? Hmm? And then he betrayed you. He killed you in cold blood and let you rot in the flames of Hell. Is that why, Dracula?!

"Shut up!" screamed Dracula aloud.

You can't see it, can you Dracula? You can't see what is happening around you.

Dracula snarled in an almost animal-like rage and his green eyes blazed in anguish.

He'll find out your alive again he'll find you and be sent back to look for you by that 'Holy Order' of his and he'll come looking for you to kill you once more, the voice corrected its mistake. But then again, you're not truly alive are you.

Dracula thrashed out in antagonism, twisting his body around, slashing at the stone wall. Sparks flew from his obsidian claws as the traced down along the slate walls. The Count's forehead rested on the cold walls of the corridor and he breathed heavily in gasping, panting breaths. His body shivered hysterically as whatever power the voice had surged throughout his veins as if enjoying putting Dracula through the physical and mental pain.

Don't you see Dracula, he commands you this time, you can't escape his power.

"But how can I? What does he want me to do?" gasped the vampire, the voice's power pounding on the sides of his skull.

Nothing. The voice was gone. Dracula could tell. It was not simply being quiet, the presence of the voice was gone. Whatever spirit or soul the voice was had deserted him and he was alone once more. Silence. Damn it, the silence! It seeped within his porcelain skin and stretched around him like a vice. Part of him wished he hadn't scared the voice away, at least with it he was not alone. But Dracula was accustom to solitude by now, and the darkness helped to numb the pangs of seclusion. The darkness was the only place where the pain was tolerable. At this thought, Dracula sent a cold chill-wave throughout the corridor and all the candles flickered out. Darkness and Silence soon occupied the entire castle. And as silence does when lingers unbroken for a period of time, it grew thick and heavy in the air.

Dracula sat in the darkness unsure of everything. What was he suppose to do now? Pine away in the darkness until nothing but dust and a broken spirit remained? He felt anger boil within him once more and he dug his claws into the stone floor, damn it! He didn't understand it, what was he suppose to do?! The boiling reached a breaking point and Dracula slashed out again, this time to the thin air. The rage within him subsided and the vampire leaned back against the wall. He sat there for a moment, the Silence and Darkness melding together. Dracula didn't try to fight it as a thin, wistful veil of sleep swathed him in a clouded, unreal numbness. All energy was sapped from his body, he felt he hadn't slept in days. Which was strange, considering he had just awoken. But the long tethers of sleep began to enfold him and drag him down. A smile crossed the Count's clouded and glazed eyes as sudden longing feeling of sleep came over him. He would try again. Perhaps Gabriel would give-in this time. He only hoped that Gabriel had wandered off to sleep himself.

.:I:.

A mix of fury and grief bubbled in Gabriel's blood as he stormed down the candle-lit stone hallways. How dare he!? How dare that pathetic excuse for monk?! Friar, not even a monk, his mind corrected. Gabriel balled his hands into fists as the rage boiled deep within his body. Why couldn't he learn to keep with mouth shut? Why couldn't he learn to shut up? The wretched, pitiful, scrawny, little….

He stopped himself.

It wasn't Carl's fault. No matter how much he wanted to put the blame on someone else, it was his own fault. Gabriel felt a pang of anger and grief at himself as he thought of what he had said to Carl. As the anger coursing his veins seethed and raged to a snapping point, Gabriel slammed one of his fists into the limestone wall, letting some of the endless grief that welled within him pour out and course into the wall away from himself. Almost instantly he spun around and stomped back down the corridor.

Even as he swung the door to his room open, Gabriel could feel an unreal wave of exhaustion come over him. He staggered for a moment and he brought his hand to his forehead. Gabriel's mind swam with thoughts and emotions that made him even more enraged. A dusty, whitewashed new-day sunlight filtered in the small window filling the room with a shadowy dim light. Gabriel let himself slide down the wall into the shadows on the cold stone floor, exhausted by some unexplainable cause. Sirens of sleep called to him from some unknown place deep in his mind. Resting his head back on the limestone, he tried to clear his mind, tried to let himself slip away into blissful and numbing half-consciousness. He needed to relax, he needed time to set everything straight.

Struggling to try and let himself go, Gabriel refused to let his emotions get to him. He couldn't let this get to him. After everything he had done in the past, after all the evil he had vanquished, all the people he had…murdered, this one assignment couldn't change his emotionless frame of mind. That what it was, this was his assignment. There was nothing different about this time. Life would go on and he would learn to forget. But as he drifted into meditation, a little voice somewhere within his mind snickered at him, Who are you kidding?

For the most part, there was blackness, like all of the other times he meditated. Complete and absolute darkness and blankness. Silence and Darkness was all Gabriel needed to try and keep himself calm. But this time, the darkness was almost...frightening. Gabriel was disgusted himself at the thought; he had seen and felt far more frightening things in his days.

But as Gabriel drifted further and further from his body, he began to feel it: the same person was back. The person, or thing, that had invaded his mind last night. He could sense its presence lurking in the blissful, numb darkness. Whatever or whoever had contacted him in his dream earlier had returned again. As the black mist began to sweep though the emptiness, Gabriel thought he should wake up before whoever it was got to him, but after a moment, he thought maybe he might and try to converse with whoever it was. Perhaps it would prove it was just a figure of his 'over-active and paranoid mind' as Carl would have said. But if it wasn't, Gabriel's natural curiosity wanted to know what had invaded his mind.

Going against all his instincts, Gabriel remained in the dark numbness of meditation. Soon, the feeling of the cold limestone underneath him and on his back dissolve away until he felt as if he were suspended in empty blackness. All consciousness of his surroundings was lost as he slipped into abyss all ties to waking up, severed. He tried to remain more alert then last time, but it was difficult as the spirit of whoever was there drew closer in the darkness.

He was there, whoever he was. First came to cold, then the icy burning throughout his body, then the cold hands that creep over his shoulders from behind.

"Gabriel…"

He had returned, Gabriel was sure of it now.

"Gabriel, it is good to see you've returned." Stinging beats of icy pain pulsed though his body from sharp claws that dug into his shoulders. Gabriel tried to remain as calm as he could, he didn't want to suddenly snap awake and loose contact with whoever this person was. What to do you want? he thought.

Cold hands slipped from his shoulders. "I just want to help you." The voice was cruel and mocking, and it made Gabriel's anger rise slightly.

Help me with what? Who are you? Gabriel thought back with a certain amount of anger, convinced that the voice could hear with thoughts.

"Help you with everything you're missing," the voice answered slyly. "Everything you want to know," Gabriel could feel fingertips tracing through his black cloak to where the three interlocking triangular scars were along his back. The old wounds suddenly began to burn in pain at the touch, "Everything you can't understand." the voice said with almost a hint of pity and sympathy.

Who are you? Gabriel asked again, unhappy with the fact that the voice thought he needed its pity.

There was silence for a moment. Gabriel wanted to turn and see this 'person' with his own eyes. This would prove that nothing was truly there. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the darkness around him, or the lack of feeling in the tips of his fingers, or the icy burning along his back. But he couldn't bring himself to turn around. Who are you? he asked again.

More silence. Gabriel began to wonder if whatever-it-was had left. But he could still feel the iciness creeping along his spine.

Who are you!? Gabriel screamed in his mind, quickly growing irritated at the voice.

The icy burning in Gabriel's back suddenly dissolved away and in front of him, the dark mist began to stir. Then, almost just as suddenly, the clouded and misty blackness in front off him materialized into a figure of a human. Gabriel squinted his own eyes to who it was. The man's features were striking, pronounced cheekbones and an angular face was drawn taut with porcelain pale skin and cold flesh. He was dressed entirely in stark black, with a long black cape draping his body. His silky, black hair was pulled back off his face, enhancing his shining green eyes. Eyes--eyes that were boring into Gabriel, causing him to almost shudder…almost. They were electric, intense with fire, almost like in frenzy, like those of someone who was…alive. No, they were dead, dead and dull like a November pond. No life stirred within them. Instead, they shimmered slightly with a mixture of sorrow and desire, a desire to be alive.

A bolt of realization and recognition shot though Gabriel's body like lightning. He felt his heart freeze. Standing there before him, in misty blackness, was Dracula.

Gabriel couldn't move, all thought was temporaily impossible. It was a dream. It was a dream! This wasn't true, it couldn't be true! Wake up, wake up! his mind finally screamed at him. But there it was again, he couldn't wake up. He was keeping him here, keeping him in half-consciousness sedative. Gabriel struggled with the grip the vampire had on him, trying to awake from the darkness. It was pointless, Dracula's grip was too strong. He still couldn't move, he still couldn't fight back. His mind was frozen with shock. What was going on?

Suddenly, his instincts roared back to life and Gabriel lashed out at the figure of Dracula. With one swipe from his hand Gabriel found a mark in the mist. His body flung out in midair, finding nothing but darkness. As Gabriel righted himself, the figure of Dracula materialized beside him. Gabriel felt pure wrath rise within him. This must have been a dream, or else all his raging anger would have jolted him out of meditation by now. Gabriel struck out at Dracula in fury and the vampire simple dissolved away and reappeared next to him.

It isn't real, it isn't real! his mind screamed.

Yes it was.

Gabriel stared at the figure of the Count, who merely stared back at him. Those blazing green eyes staring with emotionless frost.

What the hell are you?! Gabriel thought with bitterness and blazing anger.

The faintest trace of a smile crept across Dracula's features, "I am who you think I am, Gabriel." His voice was smooth and almost warm.

Gabriel didn't move.

"You aren't real," said Gabriel aloud. "I killed you, I did it, I remember! You're not real!" his voice was almost hysterical.

Dracula said nothing. Instead, he took a step toward Gabriel who reflexively took a step back. Unaffected, Dracula approached Gabriel again. This time Gabriel did not retreat, he watched Dracula intently, still at a loss of what to make of everything. His mind pounded with confusion, but he remained a calm as he could. The vampire's eyes locked onto Gabriel's, as if searching the man's soul for something that he had lost long ago. Dracula took another step toward Gabriel, his blazing green eyes still searching deep within Gabriel's spirit. They were surging with evil and power, they were almost hypnotic. Staring at him. They were almost familiar, and a flicker of remembrance flashed across Gabriel's mind.

Gabriel snapped out of the trance as Dracula came right in front of him. Close enough to strike the Count, most likely a fatal blow if he hit hard enough. But Gabriel didn't move. Didn't breathe. Still keeping his gaze on Gabriel, Dracula reached out his hand and touched the Hunter on the arm with his talons. Icy pain spread throughout Gabriel's entire body and he was jolted back. The corners of Dracula's mouth pulled into a smile, revealing long blood-stained fangs.

"I am real, Gabriel," he hissed softly. "I am."

Gabriel remained silent, his mind swirling with questions and confusion.

"Your memories, they're becoming stronger, more intense are they not? You're memories are coming back. Nothing like the horrors you have cuased and witnessed can stay suppressed for seven years. But they will never come back entirely," Dracula's eyes blazed again and he stepped closer to Gabriel so that he was barely inches from him, "Not unless you want me to give them back to you."

It isn't real, his mind rebelled. But it felt like the truth.

"You want to know; why won't you let me give them to you?"

Why did Dracula want to give him his memories so badly? What did he need to remember? Gabriel tried to absorb all that was happening, but Dracula merely kept his gaze locked in Gabriel's own eyes, as if waiting for Gabriel to be ready to accept his memories. After a moment, Dracula clenched his clawed hands into fists and his shimmering green eyes surged, causing Gabriel to flinch. The Hunter was almost entranced by the vampire's eyes. He found himself defenceless against the vampire's power. Something he hated beyond all else, being defenceless. Dracula raised his claws to Gabriel's head, letting them rest on his forehead. Gabriel flinched again and struck out at the Count. But the Count was quick and dodged Gabriel's swipe. Keeping his blazing gaze fixed on Gabriel's, Dracula raised his claws to Gabriel's forehead, touching his brow softly.

"It will only be painful for a moment," said Dracula.

Gabriel could feel the rage burning within himself. He wanted to crush the vampire's neck and choke whatever remaining life dwindled in the husk of the Count. But then, some part of him wanted more than anything to find out everything he had missing, everything he had wanted to know, everything that kept him going. Gabriel closed his eyes, letting the burning icy touch of Dracula's claws seep into his mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be terrible to have his memories back, and besides, he suddenly had no strength to fight.

The vampire filled with frenzy. Finally! After four-hundred years of pain and torture and loss, Gabriel would finally see all the pain he had caused. He would relive it all, and Dracula would enjoy every moment of it before he killed him finally. Dracula almost trembled with…happiness? Dracula was not sure. It had been so long since he had felt anything that resembled happiness, he was unsure if this enticing feeling was it. But at the moment, Dracula did not care, he relished in the thought of how Gabriel would suffer with guilt before he put him out of his misery.

But suddenly, something shook Gabriel, hard. The icy touch of Dracula's claws dropped from his forehead. Gabriel felt his body being shaken again. Dracula let out a ear-splitting screeched as the mist engulfed him, blurring his image. Something was pulling Gabriel up, up from the numbness and darkness. The his nerves jolted and suddenly the stone underneath and behind him became recognizable. Another jolt and Gabriel sprang to his feet. The blurry shadows of dim light came into focus. Something shook him again and he spun around to face it.

"Van Helsing," cried a muffled voice, "Van Helsing, wake up!"

Suddenly Gabriel had no strength and he dropped to the small cot in the corner of the dim room. Carl rushed over and knelt next to his friend, his face clearly worried.

"Van Helsing," said the friar, his voice quivering with fright, despite the fact is raced with a thousand different questions. "What happened? What's wrong? I was worried about you and I came here, and you were sitting against the wall, and you wouldn't wake up!" He stopped himself before he rambled on.

Gabriel found himself trembling, what had just happened? It wasn't a dream. It was too real to be a dream. But he had killed Dracula, twice! His mind raced with unanswerable questions. Fear played out on his face, something Carl had never seen on his friend. Words suddenly came to Gabriel's mouth.

"He's come back."


Ragweed: Yeah, I known, I lied again. Dracula was still a bit OOC in this chapter. I know I'm probably ticking a bunch of people off who are thinking, 'What the hell is she doing to Dracula?' . Don't worry, the evil, bloodsucking Dracula we know and love is still here, I promise! I know that doesn't mean much but I promise, promise, promise.
Carl: Nobody believes you…
Ragweed: (smacks self in forehead) Carl, you really should learn to keep your mouth shut. Especially around those who can hurt you! Yeah. Review or I will send the Dwergi on you!! (I'll do it too)