Resurrection

Chapter 2: Castle Dracula

Disclaimer: I do not own ANYTHING that is Van Helsing, I only own rights to my plot line. Too bad, so sad.The lyrics at the end of the story are also not mine, they are from the Evanescence song "Missing".

Reviews:

Fortune Zyne: Oh goodness, I always feel like I did something REALLY BAD whenever I read a review with Oh No! in it. I guess I just get nervous easily. Thanks for reviewing!

VAL14VAM: That's is a good idea, so why don't you write it? I know how my plot is going to go, so I can't fit that in there. I will say this though. I have two scenarios I'm thinking about. Either a "happy" ending were good triumphs over evil, or a "sad" ending where evil wins. Still deciding.

angelplusbuffyequals4ever: I'll try to update as quickly as possible!

eliment2000: wow, that is the most half-and-half review I've ever seen, lol. Half seems to be a good review, half of it seems to be a bad review. Interesting.

K, here is the next chapter! REVIEW!


Van Helsing and Carl were galloping through the snowy Carpathian Mountains, Carl constantly looking at Van Helsing with worry. Van Helsing knew this, but did not want to talk about it. He himself was still trying to figure out what had happened. He had his memory back, but he could not remember anything about his childhood. Why were the most devastating parts of his life the only ones he could remember? What was so important about them? He now knew why he could remember bloody battles of long ago, why the name Dracula had been so familiar to him at the Vatican. But why not allow him to remember the good parts of his life? The good parts. He felt like smacking himself. Anna. She was the greatest happiness that he had ever known. But why was it so necessary to know his past with Dracula, yet nothing else? Dracula was dead, and he would not be coming back. Right?

Dracula and his brides arrived back at what was left of Castle Dracula. The laboratory was a catastrophe. Marishka and Verona looked around the room with sadness, holding each other. Dracula walked to the equipment, surveying the damage. Aleera noticed the couch and walked towards it. She could smell the blood coming from it. Anna's blood. Aleera was so hungry. She looked towards the others. They were busy checking what needed to be fixed and such. Aleera looked back at the couch and smelled it. The blood was too old, she couldn't possibly get it out. She knew her sisters would be angry with the stain, but Aleera was more concerned that she had never been able to drink Anna's blood. Now she never would. Anna was with that monk, and he would certainly have cremated her. Shame. Aleera transformed into her bat-like form and flew up to the balcony over the children's room where Marishka and Verona were sobbing. Aleera looked over the mess with disgust. The room was covered with greenish-black goo. Looking at the rafters, Aleera mournfully noticed that none of the children had survived. They had all been awakened and killed together. Aleera turned to her master and held onto his shoulder. He was blankly staring out at the room. He Master had been so strong. When the children died, he had not broken. When Van Helsing turned into a werewolf, he had not flinched. When the Devil himself had screamed at him, he had shown no fear. But she knew that her Master could not remain strong for long. She knew he felt no emotion, but pressure was not exactly an emotion. He would soon break. And Aleera would make sure that she was the one who was left to pick up the pieces.

Hugging Marishka, Verona looked teary-eyed at her lord. Blank. She glanced at Aleera, who was hanging onto his arm. She was fond of all her sisters, for she had no choice, but Aleera was very annoying, constantly acting like their Master loved her the most, possibly even only her. She was extremely selfish. She had betrayed her best friend. Verona hated that princess, but her heart had been broken so many times, so she knew that Anna had been broken to find Aleera to be Vladislaus' newest bride. If only her family hadn't caused them so much trouble. None of this would have happened. Well, Aleera still would have, in theory. Verona constantly wondered if their Master had only taken Aleera because she was friends with the princess. She knew that Marishka thought this as well, though neither of them ever spoke of it. They couldn't talk about anything that may start an argument between us. Their Master would not be pleased, and he had enough on his mind at the moment. She glanced back at Aleera. Foolish, foolish girl. She herself would be her own downfall.

Breaking free of Verona's grasp, Marishka walked away towards the laboratory. She needed to take a walk, be alone. She always used to do that before she met Vladislaus-or her "Master", she thought with disgust. She could never call him Vladislaus anymore, not after that night at the ball. Just Master. She held her hand on her mouth to stifle a sob. Today almost 200 years ago she had been turned by Vladislaus. He would never remember. He always remembered the days he had turned the others. He never said anything on those days, but she knew he had remembered because that night he only spent his time with them. Why could he not remember her? Had he even missed her when she had died? Verona was lucky to be second, because she had her. Aleera even luckier because the Master arrived shortly after. But she had arrived to death alone. She had been sneered at and bullied by Satin, who thought very little of the brides, and her the most. He had called her worthless, the missing little girl. He said that he doubted that the others even knew that she was gone. It was not true of coarse, for Verona and Aleera spoke of a great cry for her, so loud that the walls had shaken. But they would lie for her she knew. She was the missing little girl. She could die a million deaths and Vladislaus would never miss her. Marishka slammed into a column and slid down to the ground sobbing.

Please please, forgive me, but I won't be home again

Maybe someday you'll look up, and barely conscious you'll say to no one

" Isn't something missing?"

You won't cry for my absence I know. You forgot me long ago.

Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant?

Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?


How was it? Please review. I really do wan't to know what everyone thinks. You can ask questions to why I wrote something as well.