Chapter 07
Van woke up the next morning feeling groggy and disoriented. His body ached all over, but the sharp, relentless pain in his shoulder was the worst of it. As he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, he noticed the bandages Bergard had applied the night before. They were stained with blood and in desperate need of a change.
The dim light filtering through the motel room's curtains cast long shadows on the floor. The room was quiet, almost peaceful, but Van felt a restless energy bubbling beneath his exhaustion. He was never one to sit still, even when he knew he should. But today, he didn't have much of a choice. His body was screaming for rest, and for once, he had to listen.
A knock on the door broke the silence, followed by Bergard's voice. "You awake yet?"
Van grunted in response, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and forcing himself to stand. A sharp twinge of pain shot through his shoulder, making him wince.
"Yeah, I'm up," he called back, trying to keep his voice steady.
The door creaked open, and Bergard stepped into the room. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Van, scrutinizing him with a concerned gaze. Despite Van's best efforts to hide it, Bergard could see the pain etched on his face.
"How are you feeling?" Bergard asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm fine," Van replied, shrugging off the concern, though his voice was tight with discomfort. "Just a little sore, that's all."
Bergard didn't look convinced. Before he could press further, two more figures entered the room. One had green spiky hair and wore a white robe—Kevin Graham, the Gralsritter they'd contacted a couple of days ago. The other was an elderly man Van recognized as Mark Miller, the scholar who had first told him about the "Nosferatu" being another word for vampire.
Van's eyebrows shot up in surprise at their sudden appearance, but he quickly masked it, standing a little straighter despite the pain in his shoulder. He nodded in greeting, though his eyes flicked to Bergard, silently questioning their unexpected arrival.
Bergard ignored the unspoken question and spoke up. "Van, meet Kevin Graham. And Mark Miller came over as soon as I told him what happened yesterday."
Van's gaze shifted between the two men, lingering on Kevin, taking in the Gralsritter attire. "You… You're a Dominion? A Gralsritter?" His voice carried a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
Kevin nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That's right. And I believe you're Van, the Spriggan, correct?"
Van nodded, still processing the situation. He'd heard of the Gralsritter, but meeting one in person was a different experience altogether. "Yeah, that's me. How did you find us so quickly?"
Kevin chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "We have our ways. But more importantly, I hear you've had a run-in with a certain Lord Kain?"
Van's expression darkened at the mention of Kain. The battle was still fresh in his mind, his shoulder a constant reminder of their defeat. "Yeah," he muttered, his tone bitter. "We had a little run-in, alright…"
Mark sighed, his voice heavy with concern. "That was incredibly dangerous and foolish, young man. Kain could have easily killed you and Mister Zeman if he'd wanted to."
Van clenched his jaw, a flash of irritation running through him at the reprimand. He knew they'd been reckless, but hearing it out loud stung. "I know," he mumbled, avoiding Mark's gaze. "It didn't exactly go according to plan, okay?"
Mark turned his stern gaze to the group, his expression grave. "In the future, if you hope to destroy Kain, you can't afford to make reckless decisions. He's a real devil. Countless brave hunters have fallen to his cruelty and schemes."
Van nodded, his demeanor growing serious. Mark was right—underestimating Kain was a mistake they couldn't afford to repeat. "I know," he repeated, his voice firm. "We won't make the same mistake next time. But we need your help. We don't know how to defeat him… or if it's even possible."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their task pressing down on them. But in that silence, a shared determination began to form. They were in this together now, and they would find a way to take Kain down—no matter what it took.
Kevin nodded solemnly, pulling out a stake carved from oak, its surface gleaming with an ominous aura. The room seemed to grow colder as the stake was revealed, its presence heavy with foreboding. Kevin's voice was low and steady as he began to explain.
"Mister Miller came to me several years ago and asked me to keep this stake hidden away. It's infused with foreign magic and ancient rites. If we manage to drive it into Kain, it won't kill him, but it will incapacitate him. Then, we can trap him in the box again, imprison him. And this time, we'll sink him deep into the ocean, where he'll never escape."
Van's eyes were fixed on the stake in Kevin's hand, a chill creeping through his veins. The way Kevin spoke of its power was unsettling, and yet it was their only hope.
"So this stake… it can disarm Kain?" Van's voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking any louder would awaken something dark.
Kevin nodded, but the confidence in his earlier words faltered slightly. "Yes...hopefully."
Mark's voice cut through the tension, rough and worn with memories of a grim past. "I managed to stake Kain with one of those once, years ago. It was a brutal fight, and I lost my entire team. But I prevailed, somehow. I escaped to this realm and begged the Septian Church for help. They took the coffin and hid it on Nemeth Island...until some Jaegers had a skirmish there and freed him."
Van's face darkened as he absorbed Mark's story. The pain and loss etched in Mark's voice painted a vivid picture of the horror he had endured. "You… you actually defeated him before?" Van asked, a mix of disbelief and awe in his tone. "With the same kind of stake?"
Mark nodded, his expression grim. "Yes, with one just like this... though it was more a stroke of luck than anything else. And Kain's arrogance... that was his weakness."
Van's mind raced with possibilities, his thoughts spiraling into questions. If Mark had brought Kain down once, could they do it again? But the stakes were even higher now. "You said his weakness was his arrogance," Van began slowly. "What do you mean by that?"
Mark's face grew solemn, the weight of his history with Kain pressing down on him. "His arrogance, his lack of restraint. Kain and I... we have a long, twisted history, one that spans nearly my entire life."
Van's brow furrowed in surprise. He had known Kain was ancient, a creature with countless enemies and stories, but he hadn't expected Mark to be so personally entangled in that dark history. "You... have a history with Kain?" Van repeated, his voice quiet. "What kind of history? If you don't mind me asking."
Mark's voice was distant as he began to speak, as if he were pulling memories from a place he wished he could forget. "It's a long and twisted tale, one I've shared with Kevin before. Are you sure you want to hear it, young man?"
Van hesitated, the weight of Mark's words sinking in. Whatever Mark was about to reveal, it wasn't something to be taken lightly. Yet, curiosity gnawed at him, and he needed to understand the depths of the evil they were facing. "I'm sure," he said, his voice laced with determination. "Tell me everything."
Mark nodded and began, his voice taking on the cadence of an old, haunted tale. "I was born in a small American town called Chapelwaite, nestled along the Missouri River. It was a place like any other—peaceful, tight-knit, and unremarkable. But every town has its shadows. Ours was the Barlow Estate, a mansion that loomed over our community like a dark omen. The owner, Curtis Barlow, was a reclusive nobleman who worked late into the night. His windows would glow with an eerie light, and the old folks who lived near the estate swore they heard chants in the dead of night. They whispered that Barlow was dabbling in dark magic... necromancy and other unholy arts."
Van's eyes widened as Mark described the sinister atmosphere surrounding the Barlow Estate. The image of the mansion, with its dark rituals and mysterious owner, painted a chilling picture in his mind. "Wait… you're saying Barlow was involved in black magic?" Van asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.
Mark nodded grimly. "Yes. It seems so. One day, Barlow was found dead in his mansion. He'd slit his own throat, and his blood had pooled around a strange painting—a black circle, like an abyss. No one understood what he intended with that ritual, but the aura around the Barlow Estate grew even darker after his death. The townspeople began to believe the place was haunted, and children would tell ghost stories about the house on the hill, watching over us like a malevolent presence."
Van shivered at the thought of the haunted estate, the echoes of dark magic lingering in its halls. But something about the story didn't sit right with him. "What happened to the estate after Barlow died?" he asked, his voice hushed.
Mark chuckled darkly, a shiver running through him. "It stood empty for years, its eerie presence never fading. Until I was twelve. One day, we heard that the mansion had been bought by two businessmen. One of them was called... Lord Kain. The other was Rian Stryker, his assistant and lawyer."
Van's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Kain's name. The pieces of the story were falling into place, each one more horrifying than the last. "So Kain... he bought the Barlow Estate," he said slowly, the words barely escaping his lips. "What happened after that? Did he... do something to the town? To you?"
Mark's face darkened further as he nodded. "Yes... many of us never even saw this so-called Lord Kain. But soon, two boys went missing. One of them was my best friend, Danny Campbell. Then the town's garbage collector disappeared, followed by the gravedigger. And then their friends..."
Van's stomach twisted as he listened to the growing list of the missing. A horrible realization dawned on him, his breath catching in his throat. "You mean... they were all taken? By Kain?"
Mark's expression was grim as he met Van's gaze. "Yes... but it gets even worse. One night, I was lying in bed when I heard a scratching at my window. I turned to look and saw Danny, my friend. But his eyes... they were crimson red, and his face was deathly pale. He kept asking me to let him in, to 'play' with him, as he put it. But I had a UV lamp by my bed... Danny hissed and vanished into mist. That's when I knew... something truly sinister had happened in our town."
Van felt a cold chill seep into his bones at the image of Danny, transformed into something monstrous. The scratching at the window, the crimson eyes—it was a nightmare made real. "Aidios... that's terrifying," he muttered, barely able to speak. "What... what happened after that?"
Mark took a deep breath, the memory heavy on his soul. "After that, I knew I had to find answers. I went to the Barlow Estate on my own. On the way, I met Susan Eggers, the daughter of our local coffee shop owner. We decided to enter the estate by day, to see what we could find. But Rian Stryker, Kain's partner, was waiting for us. He trapped us until nightfall. I managed to trick him, knock him out, and escape... but Susan wasn't so lucky. She fell victim to Kain."
Van's heart pounded in his chest as Mark continued. "Later that evening, I heard another scratching at my window. It was Susan this time, her skin pale and her eyes red like Danny's. She wanted me to let her in, threatened me, said that with every night that passed, their numbers would grow... and soon they'd come for me too."
Van shuddered at the thought, the terror of being hunted by those who were once friends gnawing at his mind. "So... they were all turned into..."
Mark's voice was barely a whisper as he confirmed the terrible truth. "Vampires... yes."
Van exhaled shakily, grappling with the horror Mark was describing. The idea of being turned into a vampire, losing one's humanity, was terrifying enough, but knowing that these creatures were once people Mark had grown up with? That was almost too much to bear.
"Why... why would Kain do such a thing?" Van's voice trembled, barely a whisper.
Mark's sigh was heavy with weariness. "Kain sees himself as some kind of messiah," he explained, voice laced with bitterness. "He believes vampires should be the dominant species on the planet, and he used Chapelwaite to gather an army for himself."
Van's heart sank. The magnitude of Kain's delusion, his twisted sense of purpose, made him even more dangerous than Van had feared. The destruction he could cause if his plans succeeded was unthinkable.
"An army...?" Van repeated, disbelieving.
Mark nodded grimly. "Yes. And if I know Kain, he's planning to do the same here in Edith."
The blood drained from Van's face. The idea of Kain creating a vampire army in Edith, a city he had come to love, filled him with dread. He couldn't let it happen.
"We have to stop him," Van said, his voice hardening with resolve. "We can't let him do to Edith what he did to Chapelwaite."
Mark agreed with a solemn nod. "That's why we brought the stake Kevin holds. It won't kill Kain, but it can incapacitate him."
Van's gaze locked onto the stake in Kevin's hand. The thought that it could be the key to stopping Kain, to ending this nightmare, filled him with a glimmer of hope.
"I see," Van said, his voice steadying. "But how do we even get close enough to him to use the stake? He's a monster, a vampire. It won't be easy."
Bergard's voice cut through the tension, sharp and certain. "That's where you come in, boy."
Van's curiosity was piqued. He had a feeling he knew where this was heading. "Me?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "What do you mean?"
Bergard didn't mince words. "We need you to use the Grendel."
Van's eyes widened. "The... Grendel?" he repeated, surprise and apprehension mingling in his tone. "You want me to use the Grendel form?"
He hesitated, the weight of the request pressing down on him. The Grendel was a powerful force, but it was also dangerous, unpredictable. Yet the stakes were too high. He couldn't let Kain unleash chaos upon Edith.
"Alright," Van said finally, his voice filled with determination. "I'll do it. I'll use the Grendel."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the group, but Bergard simply nodded, a knowing smile on his lips. "Good. We'll need every advantage we can get."
Kevin's expression grew serious. "We must act quickly. If Kain is truly planning to turn Edith into another vampire haven like Chapelwaite, then—"
Van's mind raced, the full implications of Kevin's words sinking in. The thought of Edith, with its lively streets and warm-hearted people, becoming a city of the undead was too horrific to contemplate.
"We have to stop him," Van agreed, his voice firm. "And fast."
Suddenly, the phone in Van's office rang, cutting through the tension like a knife. Startled, Van hurried over and picked it up, his heart pounding.
"Van..." The voice on the other end was breathless, panicked. It was Renne.
Van's blood ran cold. "Renne? What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Her voice shook with fear. "Something terrible happened in the dorms tonight. A vampire, probably the one you warned us about... he was here. He was a young man, brown hair, red eyes, black coat. He..." Renne's voice broke, a sob catching in her throat. "He hurt Agnès."
Van felt as if the ground had fallen out from under him. The thought of Agnès, someone so dear to him, being attacked by a vampire sent a wave of rage and despair crashing over him. His fists clenched, knuckles white.
"What?! Where are you now?" he demanded, his voice tight with barely contained fury. "Is Agnès alright?"
Renne's voice was fragile. "She's sleeping now... but the vampire escaped. He... told me to leave Edith, or I'd die like the rest of its people soon."
Van sucked in a sharp breath. The vampire's threat only fueled the storm brewing inside him. He gritted his teeth, his mind racing.
"Renne, listen to me," Van said urgently. "You and Agnès need to stay in your dorms and lock the door. Do not leave, no matter what. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand..." Renne's voice was barely a whisper. Then she spoke again, her tone filled with dread. "But Van... he bit Agnès... and he bit me too. What... what's going to happen to us?"
Van's heart skipped a beat, a chill creeping down his spine. The thought of Renne and Agnès falling victim to vampirism was a nightmare he hadn't prepared for.
"I..." Van's voice faltered, a thousand thoughts colliding in his mind. He didn't have all the answers, but he knew he had to offer some comfort. "I... I don't know for sure, but I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to help you both."
Mark, who had been silent, spoke up then, his voice calm but firm. "Don't worry. Contrary to popular belief, a vampire's bite isn't inherently dangerous unless too much blood is taken. Vampirism can only be transmitted if their blood enters your system."
Van exhaled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. The fact that the bite itself wasn't necessarily fatal brought a sliver of relief.
"Okay," he said, his voice steadier now. "That's good to know. But what about you, Renne? Are you hurt?"
Renne gasped, the memory clearly haunting her. "It felt... awful. Like those men at Paradise... I couldn't stop him, Van. He was too strong."
Van's heart twisted, a surge of guilt and anger flooding his veins. "Renne, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I should've been there to protect you... You shouldn't have to go through this again."
Renne's breath hitched, the pain in her voice almost too much for Van to bear. "Just... promise me you'll stop him, Van. Don't let him do this to anyone else."
Van's grip tightened on the phone, his resolve hardening into something unbreakable. "I swear, Renne. I won't let him get away with this."
Van set the phone back in its cradle, a wave of determination settling over him. He turned to face the rest of the group, his expression hardening.
"I just spoke to Renne," he announced, his voice steady but edged with urgency. "A vampire broke into the dorms and attacked Agnès and her. She said he was young, brown-haired, with red eyes and a black coat."
Mark's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the description. "That's him. This is Kain. The Kain I know."
Van's face darkened with anger at Mark's confirmation. "Kain," he repeated, the name like venom on his tongue. "So he's the one behind all this."
Mark nodded grimly. "Yes, that young man is responsible for this and countless other atrocities. First Chapelwaite, then Barrow, then Los Angeles. New York, too. And now, it seems, he's trying to bring the same horror to Edith—feeding, corrupting, spreading chaos."
Kevin, his expression equally serious, added, "So what you told me before was true? Kain really is a walking calamity, leaving misery in his wake. Geez... This might be worse than the Great Twilight two years ago, and that was a mess in itself."
Van nodded solemnly, Mark's words striking him like a blow. The thought of Kain unleashing devastation on multiple cities, leaving a trail of death and corruption, sent a chill down his spine. And if what Mark said was true, Edith was next on the list.
"A calamity," Van murmured, his eyes narrowing. "That sounds about right. If we don't stop him, he'll turn this city into another Chapelwaite."
His words hung in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking in for everyone in the room. Van took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.
"So what's the plan?" he asked, his gaze sweeping the group. "How do we take down Kain and stop him from turning Edith into his next playground?"
Kevin and Bergard exchanged looks before Mark spoke up. "We gather as many people as we can and march on the place where you last encountered Kain—66, Vantaille District."
Van considered Mark's suggestion, the idea taking root. Returning to the scene of their last encounter made sense.
"That could work," he agreed thoughtfully. "If we can pull together enough backup, we might have a shot at taking him down. But we need to be discreet. If Kain catches wind of our plan, he could slip away."
Bergard chimed in, "Your Jaeger friend might come in handy here. She brought us into this mess, after all. Her skills could be just what we need to distract this bloodsucker."
Van nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Bergard's words. "You're right. Feri would be a huge asset. I'll give her a call and see if she's in."
He quickly dialed Feri's number. The phone rang a few times before she picked up, her voice tired but alert.
"Hello? Van?"
Relief washed over Van at hearing her voice, though he noted the fatigue in her tone. He wasted no time filling her in.
"Hey, Feri. We've got an update on that Nosferatu of yours. We think we've found him, and we could really use your help."
The tiredness in Feri's voice vanished, replaced by sharp focus. "You found him? Finally! Where is he? What's the plan?"
Van couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "We're heading to the Vantaille District, where we last ran into him. We're pulling together some reinforcements, but we could really use your powers for a distraction. Are you in?"
Feri's voice was firm and resolute. "Of course, I'm in. I'll be there as soon as I can. And trust me, this Nosferatu won't know what hit him."
Van felt a surge of confidence at her response. "Good. We'll be waiting for you. Just be careful on your way here, okay?"
Feri chuckled, her tone teasing. "I'll be fine, Van. I've faced worse than a few vampires. See you soon."
As the call ended, Van couldn't help but smile. Feri was always ready for a fight. "Please," she added playfully, "worry about not getting yourself killed. See you soon."
