(Chapter 2: 'The Original Sin')
(A few days later)
The choir had left as well as Carl, leaving Van Helsing alone next to the tomb of Cardinal Jinette in the crypt beneath St. Peter's Basilica. The monster-killer kneeled next to the tomb with his hat over his heart and his head hanging down.
Although his memory wasn't the best even still, he remembered the Cardinal's words very clearly. How they found him half-dead crawling up the steps of the church, and how it would be Cardinal Jinette himself who sweettalked the Pope into accepting Van Helsing as a member of the famed 'Knights of the Holy Order' due to his death defiant nature.
Van Helsing knew that if he had no idea of his past life and if he was left to die by Cardinal Jinette, he wouldn't have been the one to save the royal Valerious bloodline from purgatory, he wouldn't be here to develop all the relationships he has built over the years of his service to the Vatican. All the laughs, discussions, missions, triumphant feasts, it would have never happened.
"I owe my life to you, Cardinal Jinette." Van Helsing said solemnly, and with a deep breath.
The lack of a witty response from the tomb forced a few tears to swell up in Gabriel's eyes, who shook his head in shame. Had he been just a few minutes earlier, he could have prevented the heart attack that took down his superior. All the would've, could've, and should've nagged his mind like an annoying mosquito relentlessly trying to suck blood. No matter how many times the monster-slayer tried to dwell on happier thoughts and grand memories, it was always there to taunt his subconscious and then be brought to the forefront of his mind.
First came the thoughts of the witty back and forth banter between him and Cardinal Jinette and then "I should've been there when the vampire first stormed the Vatican." barged into his thoughts.
Next came another memory of when he successfully slain the Beast of Gevaudan, an elusive wolf-beast that terrorized Central France in the mid-1700s before vanishing and ultimately reappearing again in the early 1800s. He remembered the grand celebratory feast held at the Hagia Sophia, and how the room would erupt with laughter at Jinette's jokes and lighthearted jabs. Then "I wish I would've been alerted of that fiend earlier…" Interrupted that cherished memory.
Lastly, there came the memory of his triumphant return home with Carl after successfully defeating the mythically powerful Dracula and his drop-dead beautiful brides, in what was one of his most challenging assignments yet. The parades, the cheers, and even Cardinal Jinette trying his best to dance but failing miserably entered his mind. The feast was monumental in scale, the largest one Gabriel had ever partaken in. He could vividly see the pleasure in Cardinal Jinette's face as he gave Carl a reward, and the tears of overwhelming joy in the eyes of the friar. The greatest memory of the event was the honoring of the Valerious family as their bloodline was gone from the Earth, but would forever be immortalized, and that brought another spiral of emotions to Gabriel as he thought of his relationship with Anna, and how it had been cruelly robbed from him due to a do-or-die decision to willingly become a werewolf. Then "I could've slain that bastard before he even reached the Archive…" Ruined that perfect flashback.
While the monster-hunter wasn't at fault for the death of Cardinal Jinette, it was the burden of not being there in time that plagued him.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Van Helsing requested as he crossed his heart before planting a kiss onto the golden cross that was etched into the tomb of his late superior.
"As God as my witness, your passing shall not be in vain." He continued before rising to his feet and placing his hat back on his head. He felt a few more tears wanting to escape his eyes and as his vision grew blurry, he blinked them free and allowed them to fall down his face freely.
With a sigh, Van Helsing turned around and ascended the stairs to leave the crypt where Carl would be waiting for him. The monk noticed that his partner had a graven look etched on his face, the eyes of the monster hunter were narrowed with determination and his lips turned downward into an irritated frown.
"Are you alright?" Carl asked, concerned for his ally just for Gabriel to walk right past him.
"We need to speak with the Pope, immediately." Van Helsing said sternly, leaving Carl behind in a state of bewilderment.
"Th-that doesn't answer my question…but okay!" Carl said before hurrying toward his ally to walk next to him through the Basilica towards the Blessed Sacrament Chapel.
Upon entering the chapel, they would see the Pope standing at the front of the bronze tabernacle, kneeled in prayer.
"Your holine—" Carl was stopped when Van Helsing moved his hand over his lips to silence him.
"Let him finish, Carl. We're going through rough times right now, and we could use God's help."
The two stood in the entryway of the chapel, listening to the Pope finish his prayer which was barely above that of a whisper.
"You may speak now, Carl." The Pope said with a half-hearted smile as he turned around to face the two, motioning them to come closer.
"Oh I was just wanting to say that Van Helsing desires to speak with you, Holy Father." Carl announced as him and his powerful partner made their approach towards the Pope.
"Whoever that is, has guts for entering our domain. Father Valentino suggested that I speak to you about the matter." The monster-killer said, his voice filled with frustration as he still couldn't shake the loss of Cardinal Jinette just yet.
"Indeed he does have guts—" The Pope scoffed. "However, he's been here before. He was once a part of the Holy Order, but his hubris and inner demons let him fly too close to the sun and we had no other choice than to banish him for his deeds behind closed doors."
Van Helsing was taken aback, his eyes widened with surprise and his mouth hung open briefly before he had no choice than to question what he was hearing.
"You're joking, right? He came in and caused mayhem in the Archive and indirectly killed Cardinal Jinette, and now you're telling me that he was once part of the Knights of the Holy Order?"
"I know this may be hard for you to understand, Van Helsing, but he was truly a knight. He was one of the first knights back when the Holy Order first came around, and I've read that he was one of the most intelligent ones and most powerful before you came along and took the title from him." The Pope revealed.
"And to think that he was regarded as a knight…pshaw…" Carl scoffed with a roll of his eyes with his arms folded.
"Who are we dealing with, your holiness? He has a name." Van Helsing asked.
"You are dealing with one of the most ancient enemies of the Knights of the Holy Order, you are dealing with one that we were supposed to forget about and never mention again, you are dealing with Lord Ruthven. Now that he has possession of the Blood Whistle, there is no telling what chaos he could bring to not just Rome, but to the entire world."
"Oh dear…" Carl said, fear burning in his voice.
"Van Helsing, you must stop Lord Ruthven no matter the cost. This is a day that the entire Church has dreaded for centuries, and only you can strike him down." The Pope said, placing his hand on the monster-slayer's shoulder.
"I won't let you down, Holy Father."
"You never have, and you never will—" The Pope began before smiling at someone who had entered the chapel. "You'll be receiving some back up, Father Gabrielle Valentino will be joining you on your quest."
Van Helsing turned around to see the priest approaching the three men with a grin etched on his face. The monster-slayer had heard many stories about Valentino's willpower, but he didn't remember him being one to go in the field of going to battle with the many enemies abroad.
"Father Valentino?" Van Helsing asked as he faced the Pope. "He's a priest, though. Does he have any experience of physically dealing with a vamp—"
"There are times when evil is to be forgiven—" Father Valentino began as he dug into his black Cossack to pull out a flintlock pistol. "Yet there are times when evil must not be forgiven, and it must be destroyed."
"Are you going to battle in your robes?" Van Helsing asked with a smug grin.
"Lord forgive me, but I may have to change."
"It is fine, I wish all three of you the best of luck on your quest—" The Pope said as he outstretched his hand, curling it into a fist. "Remember who we do this for, we don't just do it for the Church, but we do it for God almighty as well."
"Yes father." Van Helsing, Friar Carl, and Father Gabrielle Valentino all said in unison as they approached the Pope and gave the ring on his finger a kiss.
"Good luck, and may the Lord above be with you always."
With a parting word from the Pope, the three men left the chapel and the Basilica as a whole. Marching through the gigantic streets of the Vatican City, where a beautiful cloudless sunny sky greeted them warmly as if it was a passing gift from Cardinal Jinette himself.
"You said that you were able to insert some sort of device into that werewolf's ear, a tracking device if I'm not mistaken." Van Helsing said as he looked over towards Father Valentino.
"I did, it's a nanodevice that tunnels its way through the ear canal and latches onto the brain, every minute it gives this compass here a tick to tell me where he is located." Father Valentino explained, revealing a golden compass to his crewmates that walked with him.
Upon examination, Van Helsing and Carl noticed that the compass revealed a black dot towards their Northeast at the edge of the compass, working like a radar, a minute passed, and the black dot vanished with a tick.
"Well how are we supposed to keep track of them if they're already far ahead?" Carl asked as he had to put a pep in his step to catch up to his allies.
"Once I get properly suited for battle, we'll be catching up with them in no time." Father Valentino replied.
(Meanwhile)
(Location: Vaseria)
Ever since the defeat of Dracula, the village of Vaseria had fallen into hysteria and disarray. Without their leader Princess Anna Valerious, they had no one to look towards as a chief figure, the closest thing the villagers could call a leader would be Van Helsing, but he was gone as quick as he came.
Trades to other villages had grinded to a halt, riots ensued, some buildings were burnt. No matter how many times they prayed in the old church, no answer or hope would come for them. Several villagers had fled to the abandoned Castle Frankenstein, which was a ten-minute march away from Vaseria, to take refuge, and this was proving to be successful, but not for long.
The only successful business in Vaseira now was the tavern, several of the villagers had fallen into deep depressions and were actively drowning their sorrows as the days went by, dying slow and mentally painful deaths as the alcohol decimated their livers. Some of the older and immunocompromised people had already fallen ill from alcohol poisoning or dead, bodies would be stacked and burnt by the week.
While the Valerious bloodline was given access to Heaven, their home village was still stuck in Hell, it was as if Dracula had never died, and fear controlled their every move. The village's tired undertaker sat inside of the tavern, his head resting in his hands as he was slid yet another drink of wine.
"Someone must step up; we can't afford to keep living like this…" The undertaker grumbled as he brushed his fat hand through his dark hair.
"Everyone has said that, and not a damn thing has been done." The bartender said as he sat on a stool behind the bar, lighting a cigar.
"Can't the high and mighty people at Castle Frankenstein come up with something? Hell, if they think they're so important, why don't they come up with a plan?" The undertaker sighed as he took a sip of his drink.
"Greed has probably poisoned their minds, living in such a fancy castle while we rot down here in these old homes. I'd say we let those snobbish bastards stay where they are, when they run out of supplies, they will share our agony." Another villager answered who sat next to the undertaker.
"He has a point, Marcus." The bartender said as he took a puff of his cigar.
"I get it, but I'm getting tired of it. I'm getting tired of digging holes and burning bodies every week. Seeing the hopeless looks in their eyes before death takes them is…jarring, to say the least." Marcus said, looking up from the bottle. Tears flowing down his cheeks from his bloodshot eyes.
Commotion cut the somber silence within the tavern, it sounded as if people were cheering or giving whoever had arrived praise. Marcus stood up, as well as everyone else in the tavern, and left to investigate the matter.
Standing in the center of the village was Lord Ruthven and aligned side by side from each other was several stagecoaches at the entryway of Vaseria. They had never seen a man quite like him before, or so they had thought.
"People of Vaseria, I feel your pain, and I know your struggles. Many of you here toil without pay and lack coin to even buy basic provisions. I was that way at one time, I've felt the burdens of life after I was betrayed by the people, I called brothers and sisters. It is why I have arrived with hope." The vampire spoke loud and proud for all to hear, judging by the looks of joy and relief on nearly every villager's face, he knew his words were starting to manipulate their minds already.
"However, I haven't arrived with just hope for all of you, no. I've arrived with WEALTH AND ABUNDANCE!"
The crowd erupted with cheers and several people rushed the vampire to pull him into a massive embrace that surprised him, he was completely expecting them to see through this rouse, but his persuasion proved more powerful than he intended, and this caused a sly grin to cross his lips.
"On one condition." Lord Ruthven added on, the crowd fell silent, and Marcus would be the one to speak up.
"That is?" The undertaker asked, Lord Ruthven stared directly at him with his grin spreading wider and revealing his shimmering fangs which caused some villagers to slowly back away, starting to realize what was going on.
"Where is the castle of the Royal Valerious Bloodline? If you tell me, I will give you what I've brought and what I've promised."
All eyes were on Marcus now as he stood in silence for a moment, thinking about all Anna and her family had done for Vaseria over the centuries of the village's existence, all the hardships had been overcome through their help alone, and now it appeared that this bastard vampire was wanting to usurp the throne.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you, whoever you are. Sorry for shooting your question down." Marcus said with a hint of regret in his voice, and rightfully so.
"That's the thing, big man: I'm not asking, I'm demanding." Ruthven growled with a snap of his fingers, a few of the stagecoaches entered the village square and out from a large sized coach came the towering golem Birsha, the crowd continued to back away, some went to brandish their weapons such as pitch forks and torches.
"Kill away." Lord Ruthven commanded, and several men clad in black armed with daggers and flintlock pistols emerged from the village gate, letting out vicious growls and howls as they rushed the crowd as a bloodbath was quick to ensue.
A man charged Birsha with a pitchfork, but it did no damage at all as the golem snatched it from his arms and turned the villager and two others behind him into a shish kebab with the pitchfork, killing three villagers in one brutal blow.
Lord Ruthven caused some blood to splatter as his perfectly cut fingernails extended into sharp claws, which he would violently rake across the jugular of a villager armed with a torch, blood spewed forth like a fountain all over his face, and his cow-like tongue took great joy in licking it up. Marcus pulled out a flintlock pistol and aimed it towards the vampire, but when he opened fire, he would see that Ruthven had vanished.
"I need to know, fat pig!" Lord Ruthven growled from behind, Marcus gasped with fear and turned around just to get snagged by the throat, staring into the fiery red eyes of the frenzied vampire as his 280-pound body was hoisted up like he was a sack of potatoes.
"Like hell I'll tell you…" Marcus gagged, spittle spattering from his lips and landing right into Lord Ruthven's face, the vampire hissed before launching him through the wall with a loud bang, the undertaker's heavy-set body smashed through several tables and slammed against the bar counter with a crack, and it would be in that moment that his legs would grow eternally numb.
"You will tell me, or see your whole village burn…" The vampire threatened as he marched into the tavern through the hole in the wall, several villagers charged him, using chairs and stools as makeshift weapons just to get killed in seconds as Ruthven sliced through them with his claws like a knife through butter, the speed of which was unfathomable, he was like a blur to Marcus.
"I want that castle, clogged vein!" Ruthven ruthlessly taunted the obese undertaker as he loomed over him with his claws, digging into his pants pocket to pull out a dagger.
"Alright! You want a way to the castle, you got it! It's in the church!" Marcus screamed as the tip of the dagger started to dig into his jugular.
"That's a good boy, but you're going to show me." Lord Ruthven snickered coldly as he slid the dagger back into his pocket before grabbing the collar of Marcus' shirt, hoisting him up and dragging him along the ground like he was a large trash bag.
As Marcus was dragged through the streets of Vaseria, tears ran down his cheeks as he hysterically wailed upon seeing his people and close friends get slaughtered. Their hope was in vain and deceived, he began to see the uncomfortable reality that Vaseria was more than likely going to go down in flames.
Lord Ruthven and Marcus entered the church chapel and the vampire's grip around the collar tightened, causing the big undertaker to groan with discomfort.
"I-It's on the pedestal!"
The vampire marched for the front of the chapel and stepped onto the stage of the church, seeing an antique map laid out on the pedestal, having some wrinkles in it due to aging and constant use by villagers who were fleeing Vaseria to escape the inevitable downfall of their beloved home.
"Ca-Can we have the money now?" Marcus asked, his voice trembling with fear and sadness. His hopes were dashed with a lethal dose of reality when he heard Lord Ruthven chuckle at his question.
"Did you really think I brought you undeserving dogs coin?" Ruthven taunted as he snagged a grip of Marcus' chubby left cheek, giving it a harsh tug to the side causing the fat undertaker's face to scrunch up with agony.
"Go to H-Hell…you cruel bastard…" The undertaker groaned as he was slammed against the wall, he felt Lord Ruthven's other hand press against the underside of his flabby jaw, forcing him to face the ceiling.
"Where do you think I come from?" Lord Ruthven asked before opening his mouth to reveal that all his normal looking teeth had shifted into several razor-sharp teeth, a fleshy stretching noise was heard as his mouth opened further than it naturally should, presenting a massive gaping hole aligned with two rows of gnarly teeth that would sink into the side of Marcus' neck, killing him in a matter of seconds.
The vampire examined the old map and discovered where the Valerious Castle was located, it stood out like a sore thumb as it was represented by a yellow blip on the map. Lord Ruthven left the tavern and another one of his finest men rushed up to him, wiping some blood off his blade.
"Many of them fled into the woods, I don't think they're worth our time." The man said as his blood-sucking superior surveyed the damage that was left behind by the slaughter, an impressed smile appeared on his bloodstained lips. Hundreds of bodies littered the grounds of Vaseria, and one more body was added as Birsha slammed his foot on the back of someone's head, crushing their skull into a bloody fleshy paste with a sickening splat.
"Very good Clint, I think we've left our mark here." Lord Ruthven said before facing the other stagecoaches that were sitting idle outside of the gates. "Drain the blood out of every corpse, we just need two more villages and we will have enough to bring her from the dead."
Clint waved his arm towards the drivers for them to enter the village, but his traffic direction would come to a sudden halt as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his head with a scream of excruciating pain. His legs kicking as his body writhed on the ground.
"What the hell!?" Clint screamed as Ruthven kneeled next to him, trying to help him up with a concerned look in his eye.
"What's going on, my soldier?"
"My head, my bloody head!" Clint barked as a vision flashed through his head of the skirmish at the Archive, remembering when Father Valentino shot the strange device into his ear.
"That tells me nothing!" Ruthven cried.
"That bastard at the Vatican, h-he shoved something in my e-ear…" Clint groaned as he stood up, his head still pulsing and throbbing with obscene amounts of pain.
"He put something in your ear?" The vampire asked with a raised brow.
"Yes…whatever it is, it isn't good. I think we need to hurry, master."
"Do not be afraid my faithful, I've got a plan that will take those traitors by surprise…" Lord Ruthven said with a smirk.