Chapter 1-

The sea splashed against the rocks below the cliff, sending froth upon them. The sky had already been darkened many hours ago and the stars twinkled coldly. Van Helsing had finally given up trying to sleep and was now looking over the sea, where Anna's ashes had been scattered. He remembered Frankenstein's monster, wondering what happened to him. His thoughts soon turned back to Anna. He missed her with a longing that made him feel sick. "I love you." He whispered the words that he had never spoken before into the world, the words tasting alien on his tongue. Insane hope flooded him.

The moonlight glowed eerily. Then a hand emerged from somewhere below and gripped onto the edge of the cliff. Graceful fingers held on tight as they pulled their owner up. It was obvious, Van Helsing saw, that she was female when she emerged. She wore a wine-red cloak and nothing else. She swung dark, wavy locks from those eyes that seemed to be set on fire and stared up at Van Helsing. Her fingers reached out, beckoning towards him.

"Anna." The words weren't a question, but recognition. The woman nodded once, tried to stand, but stumbled. Van Helsing wanted to go to her. Make sure that she was real by holding her and never letting go. He wanted to ask a million questions, but his feet stayed where they were. So he said, "I thought you were dead."

"I was. You brought me back," she whispered.

The two of them had communicated by things unspoken before. He knew that she meant the words that he had spoken had brought her back. That he loved her.

She wrapped her cloak around herself, but not before he saw her shivering violently. This time, he couldn't help himself. He rushed to her. "Are you alright?" "Just a little weak," she answered. "Please take…take me home…"

Van Helsing narrowed his eyes a little, still having trouble believing that this was his Anna. His brow un-furrowed. "Come, then. Carl and I are staying with a woman he met on our first visit here." He readied his mare and helped Anna climb on it. She was still trembling. It was good that the journey was quick. Soon the two were in the woman's cottage, careful not to wake anyone up. Anna, with a bit of argument, had taken Van Helsing's bed, using her cloak as a blanket. Van Helsing lay on the floor with his sheets.

Anna had her back to him and seemed to be fast asleep. Two fresh scars were blooming on her shoulder blades. The monster hunter knew in his mind that the scars were from his murder of her. He reached out and traced his fingers on them. Anna flinched and he quickly withdrew his hand.

She was here, was back. It seemed do unreal. He wanted to lie there and stare at her forever. He must have fallen asleep, though, because the next thing he knew, Anna was standing over him.

"Are you up already? It's hardly dawn yet," Van Helsing told her, staring out the dirty window of his room in the cottage. No light shown through it. Anna's features seemed to harden at his words, though he couldn't be so sure in the darkness. Then she turned, lay back down on the bed, and covered herself with her cloak again. "You are right."

Van Helsing blinked. Anna no longer acted like the stubborn, fierce, gypsy princess she had once been. She must be weak, he thought, and cold in just that cloak. But… how do I know that she's real? So quietly, he got up, sure to be back before dawn.

The stables were hushed and I was lightly snowing as he climbed on one of the horses. He smiled vaguely when he remembered what Anna had once told him about Transylvanian horses being the fastest. It was true. Van Helsing was at the cliff in no time. He jumped off his horse and let it graze nearby. As for him, he approached the pile of rubble that used to be Anna. He searched through it. No charred bones or any sign of a human ever being burned here except for some rags. So that woman was indeed the true Anna. How could he have doubted it before?

When Van Helsing turned to leave, a glint of silver caught his eye. He threw aside some of the rags that used to be Anna's clothes. A silver cross came into view that used to hang around her neck. Gently brushing off some of the ashes, Van Helsing pocketed it. He walked back to his horse just as a ray of sunlight peeked over the horizon. He climbed on the mare and urged it back to the village. On the way, he picked up some clothes and went home to Anna to give her her gifts.