Prologue

"Well, well, well… what have we here?" the old hag asked, not even bothering to

turn and greet the dark stranger approaching her from behind. The man was in no way

fazed by this, having been expecting much worse. Stopping about five feet behind her, he

spoke "In the name of the Knight of the Holy Order… you are under arrest for the use of

the black arts against the innocent people of Salem Village." At that, the hag turned to

face her accuser. As she turned, her appearance changed from that of a corpse like elderly

woman to a beautiful teenaged girl.

This caught the man off guard. He had not been expecting her to be the witch.

"Abigail …" he whispered. How could it be? Abigail Williams, the Pastor's niece and

leader of the young girls making the witch accusations… was in fact the one and only

true witch in the entire village. He had been sent to America after word reached the diesis

of the madness occurring in Salem. He had been told to investigate whether or not there

was an actual witch among the people, if is so, to arrest her and bring her back to Rome

to be tried by the Holy Order.

He had quickly come to the conclusion that the madness was being caused by a

witch and had spent the last three months searching for her. The order had even sent Carl

to help him about a month ago. It had been Carl who had finally found the clue that lead

to the witches hide-out. And here he, Gabriel Van Helsing, was. Face to face with the

witch. Who just happened to be the niece of the man who had been his more than

gracious host for the past few months!

She smirked, the broke out into a fit of laughter at the stunned look on his face.

"Ahahahahahahaha! That's right Mister Van Helsing. I'm the witch. You never would

have guessed it, would you? As a matter of fact, you never would have found me if it

hadn't been for that Monk friend of your."

"Actually…" a small voice piped up from the corner, "I'm a friar." Abigail turned

towards Carl, a twisted smile gracing her fair features. "Is that so? Humph… What a

pity… I'm afraid that you won't be reaching official monk status in this life time." Carl

swallowed, nervously. "Gulp…um, Van Helsing? Any chance we could get this over

with… quickly!" He screeched as he ducked a thunderbolt that had been sent his way by

a rather annoyed Abigail.

"Ahahahahahahahahahaha! You fools! Do you honestly think that you stand a

chance against my awesome power? The very power granted to me by the Devil himself

as I lay dying, my head bleeding from the very attack that killed my parents. 'Do you

want to live?' he asked me. And I did… 'All you have to do is serve me.' And I accepted.

There is nothing you can do to stop me. I am his vessel on this worthless mortal world! I

am him and he is me!" She was cut off short by a bullet passing through her gut.

Lowering his gun, Van Helsing sighed. He hadn't wanted to do that, but didn't

exactly have any other choice in the matter. She would have killed them. "Oh Gabriel..."

He spun around just in time to see the flash of light as it pummeled into his body,

paralyzing him. He hear Carl's gasp, the foot falls as he ran forward to help his fallen

friend. The he saw the flash and heard the thud as Carl hit the floor somewhere near him.

They were dead… yep, they were so dead. He saw the girl move in for the kill,

cackling. Then he heard a booming voice in the darkness. "No! Thou shalt not slay them.

No… I have other plans for these two. Hahaha…" That was the last thing he heard before

the blackness consumed him.

… We found them, lying cold and still, as if dead, in the old mill. They live, we are sure

of this… but how so I cannot say. We have lay them in a tomb, sealed and safe, until we

are certain that the evil that has caused this wretched… incident… has been destroyed

and we have found a way to wake them.

All in the village are greatly distraught, but none more so than young Abigail

Williams, the niece our of Reverend Paris. She had become close to Mister Van Helsing

and I believe, secretly hoped he might ask for her hand. Sadly, it seems that will never

occur. All here are very sorry for you loss and wish you the best.

Sincerely yours,

Reverend John Hale