Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Van Helsing characters. I only own Kida. The italicized composition also does not belong to me. It belongs to an anonymous writer.
Van Helsing: Blood Rain
Chapter Five: Castle Valerious
"Hot cocoa?" Marie, the barmaid, offered. Carl gave a small smile and a polite nod. Marie smiled back. "Alright. Anything for Mister Van Helsing when he awakes?"
Carl's smile faded as he watched his companion on the bed. "I think you should ask him personally when he recovers." Marie nodded, and shortly left the room.
The hunter had been peacefully unconscious for hours, relieved of the exhaustion of the long trek through the piercing cold, and the abuse done on his body. Carl had personally been relieved as well.
She is still safe.
"Carl…?" Turning toward the soft voice, he saw a small girl, in a light blue nightgown with fine lace trimmings. And, clutched in her small, fragile arms, was a stuffed toy griffin.
---oOo---
Igor sulked at the newly destroyed chamber wall. The rubble emitted hard, earthen sounds when he kicked at them. Dracula appeared behind him.
"Igor," His strong voice rang ominously. "The chamber can be repaired."
"My lord…" Igor remarked respectfully. "It is not the chamber wall I am worried about.
"It is her…" Igor turned, and faced the tall lord who had been shielded by the shadows of the chamber. "We do not yet know where the girl hides…" Dracula merely chuckled at this. "Igor… We know where she hides."
The brides gracefully filtered into the room. Aleera, having her right hand still stained from the hunter's blood, came in last. Verona began, "Master, the hunter—"
"Has fled, yes. And he will remain in hiding, giving refuge to the girl…"
A seductive smirk curled the Count's lips. His eyes glimmered with eerie, determined amber in the shadows. "And so, I arrive at my point." His eyes skimmed Aleera's form teasingly before his gaze settled on her stained hand. He beckoned her to him charmingly. Though the other brides' envies had begun to rise, they were quickly silenced by their Master's strong presence.
The vampire bared Aleera's bloodied hand to Igor as she stepped forward.
"We find the hunter…" He drawled, twirling the bride in a graceful spin.
"…and we find the girl."
---oOo---
"He'll be alright. He only needs a bit of rest." Carl explained, tucking the small girl back into bed. She nodded groggily, childishly resisting needed sleep. "Alright… but… must I sleep…?"
Carl smiled warmly at her. Kissing her forehead, he replied, "Well, only if you want to grow as tall as him." And he gestured over to Van Helsing sleeping across. Kida blushed intensely.
Meekly, she replied, "Okay…"
He patted her hand gently, and pulled the linens up to her chin. "Good girl."
The little girl smiled at the friar once again, seeming to reflect the moon's light in her grin. Such is how Carl viewed it. She took a gaping yawn, cutely distorting her small features and wiping away the fears, anxieties, sadness and anger that had pooled inside him for excruciatingly long hours.
Her eyes closed, and she fell into dreams.
"He's coming." The hunter's voice came. The tone was raspy and exhausted, though he wasted no time in attempting to stand from where he was laid.
"Van Helsing, you shouldn't—" Carl's voice was cut from Van Helsing's earshot by the abrupt slam of the heavy wooden door.
---oOo---
A long, deafening shriek. Then silence.
The Count emerged from a dungeon cell adjoined with the brides' blood pool. He carried a newly disembodied heart, and walked between the bloodstained grooves toward the large, sunken vat of red liquid. His eyes closed at the faint sound of the victim's blood slowly trickling through the grooves and dripping into the vat. The vastness of the chamber amplified the sounds, completing the twisted aura befitting a vampire's home.
A Dwergi entered, bearing a bell wine glass. The lord casually took it, and nodded to dismiss the creature. It obeyed. As it exited, he viciously squeezed the heart, draining it of blood; his face showed no remorse, not a cringe, not a falter. He took pleasure at the sickening sight of blood streaming into the glass.
When the heart was no longer useful, he threw it unceremoniously into the awaiting fireplace. All was well for the vampire. Soon, he knew, the girl would be his.
---oOo---
Van Helsing sat at the castle's steps, patiently awaiting a possible catastrophe.
Marie approached, and offered a mug of hot cocoa already in hand. "Some for you, sir?"
Van Helsing turned, and sincerely returned the barmaid's sweet smile. Of course, most of the barmaid's smiles were returned with the amusing thought of Carl and his past experience with her. No other but Carl's closest companion knew.
Who knew Carl could be so daring.
"Thank you, Marie." He gladly took the cup from her and took a few large gulps. Marie could not help but giggle at the hunter's enthusiasm. "Well, sir, after you are done out here, please come back inside. Carl is very much worried about you." After this, she retreated inside.
Gabriel stared for hours at the beautiful landscape before him, reviewing the memories that Dracula had given him: the Order… the friendship… the argument. The work he'd done for the Valerious. His frequent quests for the Vatican, and the reason that he did not age.
During the brief time he spent at Castle Dracula, being maimed and physically tormented, Dracula slowly brought his memories to the surface of his consciousness. A much greater curse. Much more torture, knowing his past wrongs, and knowing that Vladislaus Valerious was in the right.
It had been well past midnight when he decided to retire into bed… Only to realize that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.
"CARL! CARL, WAKE UP!"
Carl groaned, and caught sight of Kida's empty bed.
"SHE'S GONE!"
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Marie is not my character. Although I provided a name for her, Marie is not my character. She is the barmaid from the movie. The barmaid that Carl had —ahem— gracefully rescued. And I apologize for the length of the chapter. I was inspired. I also apologize for Dracula's nonsense cut scene. I couldn't resist. Please review. It keeps the fire of inspiration alive. Constructive criticism is greatly welcomed. (I am not at fault for the long sentences and deep words. I swear.)