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Post by worldking on Jun 3, 2017 6:16:01 GMT
Helsing, Chapter 1: Strange Bedfellows
Beams of moonlight trickle down from the sky like rivers of rushing water filtering downstream, never stopping, always moving. The beams bounce from building to building, illuminating even the darkest corners, until finally reaching the rocky roads of Newcastle upon Tyne tilting in every direction, filtering the light to be a guide upon the dimmest of roads one is to travel.
The hour is early as the clock strikes three, a light drizzle dampening the gorgeous glow of the full moon. The music has come almost to a stop as the masses head home for the night, readying themselves for another session of the daily grind their lives have fallen into.
Alone on the streets headed south from Princess Square are two girls, Natashia and Elena. Their dresses cut shorts and their heels in their hands as they walk sideways back towards campus, back towards their flats for the night. The laugh because they can, because their lives are whole and pure, their nights are long, and their vision blurry. Off in the distance they see a shadow lumbering towards them, laboring with every step, its back hunched and its shoulders broad. Natashia and Elena stop dead in their tracks, their dizzy bodies staring into the distance at the shadow they aren’t even sure is real.
“Hello?” Natashia calls out, seeing if whoever it is could offer them peace of mind.
“Hello.” The girls jump forward as the cold chill of an unknown voice creeps in from behind them, the shadow in their sites leaping out of view, replaced with a new threat who has snuck up in the shadows. A tall, lanky labors towards the girls, his eyes black as the night sky, his jacket ripped and flailing in the wind. “You girls have a fun night?” The cold whisper creeps on their skin, giving the girls goosebumps.
“I’ve got mace!” Elena screams, reaching into her purse to find the small container of protection.
“I once had a mace, darling. Didn’t seem to do me much good. See what I’m getting at?”
“I’m not kidding,” Elena pulls the container out, pointing it at the man, “Go away or I’ll use it.” The man doesn’t stop, his legs moving faster than his torso, his eyes focused only on her, the rest of the world slowly falling away.
“I’m a little hungry, darling, do you mind helping me out with—ahhh!” The man screams, clutching his face in pain as Elena sprays him down. The girls spin on their heels to run the other way; their hearts pounding and their movements hampered by the weight of too many shots. Natashia doesn’t get three steps forward before running into a shorter man, his shoulders broad and his back hunched, his eyes as black as the night sky. Her scream echoes through the near silent night.
“We’re just hungry, baby. That’s all.” His eyes fixate on her neck, focusing on the blood rushing through her arteries. “Just one…little…bite…” He hobbles forward, his offset frame awkward and burdened. Then he leaps, the muscles in his body rippling with power as he jumps forward to sink his teeth into Natashia’s neck. Natashia let’s out a scream capable of shattering glass; at a pitch barely able to be heard by the everyday person. Her scream goes on and on and on, drowning out the sounds of a gunshot, drowning out the sounds of a lifeless body slamming against the ground motionless.
Natashia opens her eyes and sees the hunched man lying on the ground, a hole shot right through the center of his chest. She looks around for the other man and Elena, and sees them both looking around in confusion. “Shit,” the tall man mutters, seeing a man atop a roof across the way with a riffle aimed at his heart. Another shot goes off, this one finding its home in the cobblestone walkway as the vampire runs off into the night. One, two, three…boom. That’s all the man on the rooftop waits before disappearing as the tall man runs into a figure shrouded in the moonlight and falls to the ground. He looks up to see a man more menacing than any gun could ever be.
A red brimmed hat adorns the man’s head, its golden lace shimmering in the electric moonlight; is long black hair flowing down like waterfalls on his back; his long red trench coat fluttering ever so lightly in the wind; a sword strapped to his right and a pistol to his left; a candescent white grin brighter than the sun on the hottest days of July; his eyes a glowing red like small balls of fire.
“W-who are y-you?” The tall man mutters, crawling slowly backwards on his hands. The man in red kneels down to get closer to the tall man.
“My name is Alucard.” He says, his words reverberating through the street, seeming to shake every building around them.
“W-what’s going on? I’m j-just hungry, man.”
“How long have you been a vampire, lad?”
“J-just a few months. M-my friend turned me. I thought it’d be cool.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jerry.”
“Jerry, can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, yeah, anything. J-just let me go.”
“Jerry, I think we both know that isn’t going to happen,” Alucard’s glowing grin turns into a full-fledged smile, his eyes glowing ever brighter. “Have you heard of me?”
“N-no, sir.”
“Sir? I’ve never been called that before. Weird,” Alucard stands up and unsheathe his blade, turning it to Jerry the vampire. “Jerry, do you know what I’m about to do?” Jerry shakes his head and doesn’t wait another second, bursting to his feet and using every last once of energy to burst forward, but is stopped short by a swift swing of Alucard’s blade. Natashia lets out another blood-curdling scream as Jerry’s leg lands squarely in her arms like a newborn baby coming home for the first time from the hospital. Jerry drops quick to the ground, his one good leg still trying to escape. “Now, now, Jerry, let’s not be hasty.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, man, anything! I’ll leave the girls alone!”
“Not good enough.”
“I’ll give you all the money I have.”
“Not good enough.
“I’ll be your s—“
“Just stop, please. You’re embarrassing yourself.” Alucard says, hovering over the vampire’s dismembered body. His eyes glow a deep, burning red, emanating heat like a million suns, his breath hot rolling from his tongue, pressing down like and iron on Jerry’s face. Alucard stares into Jerry’s eyes, his red glow meeting Jerry’s black fear.
“P-please no…” Jerry mutters, his voice growing weaker.
“Jerry, I want you to take your hand and shove it into your chest. I want you to use every ounce of strength you have and rip your heart out of your body, and use those final shred, s of life to squeeze it and watch the blood fly everywhere before it all goes dark. Okay? Thanks, be a sweaty now and do it.” Alucard walks away from the man, his steps slow and measured, as he hears the sound of crunching bones as his hand rips through the rib cage, the screams of the vampire echoing through the street, the blood pooling on the ground creating an irony smell matching that of the rain. “The world is a sweet, sweet place isn’t it, Abes?”
“Please don’t ever call me that again.” The man from the roof walks towards the part, his wide-brimmed hat fluttering in the rain, his brown coat whisking in the wind. “It’s Abraham.”
“I like Abes more.” Abraham’s expression remains cold as stone, his body flat like Kansas, as he totes his sniper rifle in a case strapped around his shoulder.
“Was it really necessary to make him rip his own heart out?” Abraham sighs as he looks at the mutilated mess on the ground bleeding out from every part of his body.
“Probably not. But it sure as hell was fun.” Abraham shakes his head and ruffles around in his bag, eventually pulling out a box of matches. “You’re just going to burn them here?” Alucard’s question falls on deaf ears as Abraham strikes a match and drops it on the first body.
“Is this one dead?” Abraham asks, pointing to the second body lying on the ground, knocked out and vulnerable. Alucard shakes his head, his trench coat still billowing in the wind. “Should we burn him too?”
“Why waste perfectly good matches? I might as well tie him up on the roof and let him burn in the sun.” Alucard walks over, taking the man by the leg and slowly dragging him away. He walks up to the two girls, his glowing red eyes staring into the first one.
“Wh-what are you going to do?” She asks. Alucard’s red eyes pierce the girl’s, her body trembling, her eyes dilating.
“You’re going to forget this every happened. You were walking home from the club, you tripped, you fell, and you’re just going to keep walking.” Alucard says, his eyes glowing more vibrant with every word. The girl sits silent for a second, before repeating.
“I was walking home from the clubbed and I tripped. I fell down, and now I’m just going to keep walking.” A small smile pierce’s Alucard’s lips as he pats her on the shoulder and walks by her, dragging the vampire behind him. The girl just starts walking. Alucard’s eyes glow red again as he stares into the second girl’s.
“You were with your friend. She fell. You helped her up. Now you’re going to take her home.”
“I was with my friend. She fell. I helped her up and now I’m going to take her home.” Another smile crosses Alucard’s lips. The girl runs off, screaming after her friend, telling her they need to go home.
“You just control people’s minds like it isn’t even a thing. It isn’t right.” Abraham screams out, his words hanging heavy in the air. Alucard turns around, his eyes still glowing a vibrant red. “You know your eye trick won’t work on me. Every part of who I am is covered with vervain.” Alucard’s eyes change from the glowing red to a dark, dusky black, still piercing and soulless.
“It isn’t a thing, Abes. I’m the devil incarnate, this is just another Tuesday for me.” Alucard turns without another word, looking up at the exposed roof of the building above and pushing off, being at the top with a single leap.
*
“From the data, it looks like the hive is situated in a small cavern, probably hidden by foliage to cover the sunlight,” Integra slowly says, her words dragging out as her brain races at a million miles an hour, formulating a plan as she speaks, “Which means if they can find it…well, it’ll probably have guards, so either they kill the guards or Alucard can compel them away…but once they get to the cave, they could clear the foliage away and way for the sun to come up and burn them all alive.”
Integra’s words fall heavy on the heads of the other’s sitting in the classroom, four students staring up at a large monitor displaying several different data maps and news stories about a small town in Ohio. Integra van Helsing, daughter of Abraham, is a short girl with long blonde hair dipping down to her hips, her sharp blue eyes stunningly beautiful. She crosses her legs and looks down at her desk, nibbling lightly on a pencil, running a million different options to improve her plan.
“I think it would be improved if Abraham could set up some sort of automatic safety net in case the vampires are able to move further back in the caves to avoid the sunlight. Maybe a sunlight grenade down the hatch?” Seras Victoria says, her high-pitched voices cutting through the rest of the class, her short, curly blonde hair flowing in the gentle breeze from the open window.”
“We don’t even know there’s a cave. What if they are laid up in a house?” Deborah Dancer asks, the last girl in the room, she sits alone in a corner desk, speaking only when she has something that needs to be heard. “There’s no guarantee there’s a cave at all.”
“If it’s a house, it’s simple—blow the damn thing sky high and blame it on a gas leak.” Pip Hamilton, the student in the room says, his large muscles and bulging veins rippling just under the surface of his tight skin. “If it’s a cave, cave it in, blame it on a cave in. I don’t get what’s so complicated?” Integra whips her head around and glares at Pip. Pip sits just a little further back in his seat.
“This cave—“ Integra starts.
“Or house!” Debby calls back in her ever-perky voice.
“Or house,” Integra begrudgingly adds, “Is within a few miles of town. Blowing it up or caving it in would be a PR nightmare.”
“What does that matter? Do we live in bumfucknowhere Ohio?”
“PIP!” The class falls silent as all eyes drift up towards the front of the class where Walter Dornez stands. Walter is dressed in a sharp three-piece suit, a purple vest under a wide black blazer with three buttons on it. His grey mustache furling with anger and the room. “We don’t use that kind of language during class!” He bellows, his deep voice carrying through the class.
“I-I’m sorry Walter, I just lost myself for a second.” Pip mutters, his eyes glued to his desk in embarrassment.
“You don’t let these kids live for even a single second, do you?” Alucard’s slick voice creeps in from the doorway and the class’s attention whips back around to see Alucard in a slim black button up shirt and a fitted pair of slacks leaning up against the entryway.
“And what makes you the expert on living, Alucard?” Walter asks, his tone joking but stern. Alucard throws his arms up and begins walking into the classroom.
“You got me Walty, I am just the walking dead after all.”
“Please don’t call me Walty.” Alucard walks into the class and throws himself down on the desk, his legs crossed and his fingers entwined and rested on his knees.
“Seras,” Alucard starts, Seras’s eyes glued to the vampire, “Your plan makes a lot of since if it is a cave. But to do it successfully we’d need three people.”
“I’m aware. I think your team is too small to take on a hive this large.” Alucard’s face is pierced with a grin, his nostrils flaring with laughter.
“Seras, this is at best a twenty-vampire hive. I’ve killed more vampires in my sleep. I think I can handle a handful of babies in America.”
“But you admit your missions would be easier with more than two people?” Seras asks, her face growing sterner and her words growing stronger.
“Sometimes, yes, it would be easier,” Alucard jumps down from the desk and begins walking towards the door, “But I suppose eating would be easier if someone chewed my food for me.” Without another word Alucard walks slowly out of the room, the grin still plastered to his face. Seras turns to look at Integra, her eyes squinted with anger:
“See?! Alucard says it would be easier with thr—“
“Just shut up, Seras!” Integra screams, cutting Seras off. Suddenly Seras’s eyes un-squint and the entire class sits back, their eyes wide open staring at Integra. Integra bursts from her seat, her long blonde hair thrown in the wind. “What makes you think you’re a van Helsing?!” The silence falls heavy on the room, no one wanting to talk, no one wanting to cross Integra. “WELL?!” She shouts again, her shoulders hunching and her face turning bright red with anger.
“I don’t think I’m a van Helsing.” Seras mutters, her eyes still wide.
“I didn’t hear you! Mind saying it louder?!” Integra takes a step towards Seras, challenging her. Seras pushes away from her desk and quickly stands up, her eyes filled with anger and a scowl plastered to her face.
“I said I don’t think I’m a van Helsing!” Seras screams, throwing her hands up in rage.
“Well then why don’t you shut up and listen. There’s a reason this is the van Helsing manor, isn’t there?!”
“Ladies, ladies!” Walter shouts, his voice reverberating throughout the room. “Calm down!” Integra turns to Walter, her eyes still full of rage. She doesn’t say a word, she just lets out a loud, high-pitched grunt and storms from the room.
*
Last night’s affair was strange. Two men attacking two women, both vampires obviously fairly new to be hunting in our back yard. Alucard handled the situation mostly himself, as he does most nights, but this night…this night seemed different. Could these young vampires have been more important than we realized? Were we too quick to kill them?
Abraham writes softly in his journal with a quill pen, dipping it in ink between each line, slowly carving the words into the old leather-bound books. His eyes move quicker than his hand, reading after each thought after he carefully scribes them down.
Did we kill them?
Abraham wonders, his hand hesitating to continue.
Alucard carrier off a body after making the girls forget everything. He took it to the roof of a nearby building to burn in the sun. What if the body didn’t burn? What if Alucard set the body free? Did they have a conversation? Is Alucard really on my side?
Abraham sits alone at his desk, his pen stopped moving, the thick black mahogany of his desk reflecting his face. Abraham looks into his own eyes and sees a blur—he sees the love he has for his wife, he sees the love he has for the family he has built; but he also sees the horrors he has faced, the battles he has won…and more importantly, the battles he has lost. The door swings open quickly and Abraham slams the cover to his journal closed.
“Why the hell did you bring that bitch into our house?!” Integra screams at her father as she slams the door shut behind her. “Tell me why?!” Abraham pushes himself up from his desk, his long dirt-brown hair waving as he stands, his teeth sharp and gnarled, his eyes a deep brown and furious.
“What the hell are you talking about, girl?!” He screams, his voice echoing around the small studying, reverberating in Integra’s ears. Abraham steps out from behind his desk, his eyes focused on his daughter. “What makes you think you can barge into my study and use that tone on me?!” He points a finger at her, taking his steps slowly.
“She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she isn’t ready for this!”
“And what is your experience with deciding who is ready and who isn’t?”
“What is yours?! You think you can bring the family back together after everything that happened by piling bodies on the streets and students in a classroom that have no idea what’s going on!” Abraham lowers his finger and looks away, his long hair covering his face from his daughter. Integra recoils, knowing that her words were ill-advised, having struck a chord not often struck. She reaches out to but her hand on her father’s arm, “I’m so sorry—“ He quickly shrugs her hand away.
“Leave. NOW!” He screams, turning his eyes back to her. She quickly turns out the door, her footsteps hurrying down the hall. Just before the door slams shut Alucard slips in, his slim body and tight black clothing flashing through the doorway like an afterthought. Abraham quickly crosses to his desk, grabbing the journal and throwing it in a drawer at the bottom of his desk, taking a key and locking it in.
“Why can’t I ever see that?” Alucard asks, his voice soft and playful.
“It’s personal. Nobody likes people to read their journal.”
“Most people aren’t vampire hunters and most people don’t lock their journal away from their vampire bestie.”
“Don’t call yourself my bestie.”
“You really hate it when I do that, don’t you?”
“It irritates me to no end.” Abraham says as he takes a seat as his desk, crossing his legs and staring at Alucard.
“So what was that about?”
“It’s personal.”
“If you’d let me read your journal you wouldn’t have to tell me.” Alucard says with a smile.
“When you tell me all of your secrets, I will tell you all of mine.”
“Touché.” Alucard walks over to the scotch on the counter looking out a window onto the manor’s back lawn. “So what’s the plan for tonight?” Alucard pours himself a small glass of scotch and pours another for Abraham.
“We fly to Ohio tonight,” Abraham takes the glass from Alucard and downs the whole thing in one swift gulp.
“Tough night?”
“You know it was.” Alucard takes a sip of his scotch and takes a seat on the other side of Abraham’s desk. “Walter will compile a report on the hive in Ohio so that we are prepared. We will approach it in the sun.”
“You sure no one will be looking for us?”
“Are there other day-walkers?” Abraham’s eyes meet Alucard’s and Alucard just shrugs with an innocent smile, taking another sip of his drink. “Okay then, so we will approach during the day and try to kill them at their most vulnerable. Be prepared to leave soon.”
*
A large church rises like a spire into the night sky, splitting the moonlight into small beams scattered across the beautiful rooftops of Rome. Stained glass decorates the outside, pictures of our father blessing upon us our savior, trickling down into his birth, his death, and his rebirth until finally it stops at the door, a large wooden door with a cross coming together, formed by the combination of the two doors closing, splitting open to allow travelers into the home of Christ.
Through the door there is a fire at the chancel, overlooking the empty pews and searching for worthy patrons to burn their sins away. In front of the fire sits a man, long black robs covering his body, his grey-haired head bent down in prayer, soft harp music playing from a speaker in the background. He mutters word in Latin and whips his glasses as they fog from the flames.
“What brings you here?” He calls out, his voice echoing through the empty chambers, his head still bowed in prayer.
“Father Anderson, she’s spoken.” Another man calls out, beads of sweat dripping down his face from the fire even though he stands at the other end of the room. His muscles popping from underneath his black skin, tight black clothes covering his chest. The Bishop stands, his frame well over six feet tall, his grey hair receding, his shoulders square like his jaw.
“Where?” Father Anderson turns, his eyes covered by the glare of the flames on his glasses.
“Ohio.” A small smile lifts the corner of Father Anderson’s mouth as he quickly walks behind the chancel into a back room.
*
Rain drops softly on the outstretch arms of the thousands of trees making their homes just outside of a small town in Ohio. Alucard holds his red hat’s brim to ensure it doesn’t blow away in the soft wind while Abraham lets the subtly beads drip slowly from his hair. The two walk in silent harmony, their eyes locked ahead. Alucard, with one hand on his hat, the other tightly on the pistol at his side. Abraham’s hands in his pockets where two small guns and several other trinkets lie. Eventually, Abraham breaks the silence:
“What scares you?” He asks, his voice piercing the heavy, dark night. Alucard stops and looks over with a perplexed look on his face.
“What do you mean?” He asks, loosening his grip on his pistol ever so slightly.
“Sunlight doesn’t burn you, stakes to your heart don’t kill you, you cannot be compelled, and it seems you are truly immortal. So, what scares you?” Alucard’s perplexed look is swiftly swept from his face, his eyes cold staring back ahead.
“I carry a burden and a pain with me the likes you will never know,” Alucard begins trekking forward again, his footsteps light as air on the foliage below his feet, no cracking or popping aside from the lightest of sounds. “I am immortal, at least from what I have been able to find, and from that immortality springs…everlasting regret.” The two fall silent again as they continue to slowly walk forward in the night.
“What do you have to regret?” Abraham breaks the silence once more.
“Every life I’ve taken, every life I’ve spared, every wrong choice I’ve made, every second I’ve failed to act. I have lived two dozen lives—two dozen full and exciting lives, and yet I feel like I will never find the closure or the fulfillment I would’ve found had I been in your shoes.”
“Being mortal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I was mortal once too, I remember.”
“How did you get turned, Alucard?”
“Abes, that’s a story for a different day.”
“And what day might that be?”
“Maybe the same day you tell me why you came out of exile and decided to carry on the family name?” Alucard’s words pierce, cutting through Abraham like a hot knife through butter. The two continue to walk in silence, every one of Abraham’s footsteps echoing through the rainy forest. Alucard puts his arm out in front of Abraham, stopping him.
“What is it?” Abraham asks, only for Alucard to put his finger to his lips and shush him. Alucard reaches down for his pistol, upholstering it and pointing it in the direction of the hive.
“Right t—“
BOOM!!!
A massive explosion rips through the forest, sending leaves flying from the comfort of their longtime homes, knocking Alucard and Abraham off their feet on to their backs. Alucard’s hat falls off and he quickly grabs it and rights it on his head. Abraham’s eyes are filling with the unrelenting glare of the fire as it sparks in the sky, the flash of light still burnt into his eyes.
“That came from the hive!” He shouts, his ears ringing from the explosion. The two stand and sprint towards the fire, sweat rolling down their bodies as they approach the burning flames. “What was that?!” He shouts, looking around for anyone else at the site of the explosion.
“Abes,” Alucard calls out.
“This isn’t the time for jokes!” Abraham screams back, watching as vampires start flying from the fire, their burning, rotting skin emitting odors into Abraham’s nose. He listens to the screams as, one by one, the vampires realize they are jumping from one fire to the next, dozens of screams permeating the air, the smell of sweat mixing with that of burning skin and burning hair. One lands in front of Abraham, her face almost unrecognizable of someone who once was a human. Her features still youthful, her skin still a pure olive tan, her eyes still a stunning blue. She couldn’t have been a vampire for more than a few weeks, couldn’t have been older than sixteen when she was turned. Her teeth elongated, she moves her mouth and tries to whisper through the screams, and Abraham sees the words “Help Me” formed by her lips, but no words ever come out. He pulls a small pistol from his pocket and fire three wooden bullets into her hearts, watching her body go limp and fall lifeless to the ground.
“I’m not joking. I think I know who did this.”
“WHO?!” Abraham screams, still watching the bodies, making sure no survivors get away, firing round after round like a marksman into the hearts of those that crawl away on wounded knee.
“Me,” the voice drips through the orchestra of screams, powerful in nature and routing its way to Abraham’s ears. Abraham turns to look at the man, his body massive and his shoulders square like his jaw.
“Who are you?!” Abraham shouts, taking aim at the man’s heart.
“Father Anderson. You can call me Alex.”
“You picked a bad day, Father.” Alucard smirks, pulling his gun and aiming it at the large man.
“Don’t do it, Alucard. I know you have limited ammo and trust me when I say it won’t hurt me. And Abraham, wooden bullets? I know you’re better than that. What happened to the hunt?”
“Says the man who just blew three dozen vampires sky high in the middle of Ohio.” Anderson shrugs, standing still like a statue.
“How do you know who we are?” Abraham asks, choosing to believe the man that his bullets won’t work.
“I know all about the Helsing Operation. How you put together a little family for yourself, Abraham. How you sided with a vampire, a very powerful vampire at that, to kill vampires. Tell me, how does that make any sense at all?” Anderson says, his voice still calm and powerful, his glasses burning with the light of the fire.
“This line of work makes for strange bedfellows,” Abraham begins walking towards Anderson, his eyes unwavering. “So is this going to be a thing now? You blowing up vampires and shocking an unknowing town into a full blown federal terrorist investigation?”
“Now? I’ve been doing this for decades.” Abraham’s eyes grow wide.
“How come I’ve never heard of you, then?”
“I didn’t want you to,” Anderson reaches into his pocket, pulling out from it a small golden ring, a six-sided star printed on the emblem. “I think this will help you find some answers, won’t it?” Anderson tosses the ring to Abraham, and Abraham’s world closes in, focusing solely on the ring.
Suddenly the fire disappears from Abraham’s vision, and is replaced with a dark, snowy night. A cold breeze blows in from a window that never should’ve been opened. Abraham follows a small trail of blood into his foyer to see pools and paintings done in blood, the strong smell of iron creeping into his stomach, tossing and turning. The screams…the screams…the screams…
“Abes!” Suddenly the cold smell of iron is replaced with the hot, burning smell of flesh and the freezing wind is replaced with the cold touch of Alucard’s hand shaking Abraham’s arm. “Abes, it’s time to go,” Abraham looks around at the dozens of bodies that lay sprawled along the field, the once billowing flame that is beginning to peter out, and he listens as sirens get closer by the second and horns honk through traffic to hurry to the site. Abraham looks back at the ring before nodding his head and putting the ring in his pocket. In seconds the two disappear from the bloody massacre.
*
The coals burn with a hot, red glow producing beautiful whisping flames in Abraham’s study. The golden ring sits alone on his desk, the emblem on it a six-sided star he’d only seen one other time in his life. A small tear drips down onto his desk and he remembers the horrifying night, he can still hear the screams and smell the blood.
He slams his fist on the desk over and over, trying to smash the pain out of his heart like he’d done a million times before. He’d never thought he’d find the ring again, but he did. Here it is, right in front of him, staring him in the eyes and taunting him with the mystery. Why did Alex Anderson have this ring? Does he know who did it? Did he already kill the vampire responsible? Or is he trying to mess with Abraham’s head? Trying to get inside of it and send him off the trail of something else?
Abraham reaches into his pocket and pulls out his smartphone, scrolling through the contacts until he reaches the one he needs. Clicking the small black phone icon, he puts the phone to his ear and waits for the other end of the call.
“’Ello?” The softy British accent pokes through the other end.
“I found the ring.” Abraham’s voice comes out chocked and burdened.
“Really? I’ve been searching high and low for it. Where’d’ya find it?”
“A man I met in Ohio.”
“Oh, so you’re the bloody idiot that set a town on fire. Good job on that one.”
“Can you track it or not?”
“I can track it; I’m just going to need to get my hands on it.”
“Meet me at the Manor.”
“No can do, problems with the airport means I’m staying in New York for the foreseeable future. You’re going to have to meet me here.” Abraham sighs, his whole being still fixated on the ring.
“Fine,” he says after a few moments of silence, “I’ll be there soon, Hellblazer.”
END
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Post by worldking on Jun 22, 2017 19:57:44 GMT
Chapter 2: Dark Memories, Part 1
An abnormal shimmering light flows from between the clouds that drift about the sky, lazily relaxing in a sunny day, selfishly taking for themselves. The clouds hang high and thing, grey in color and dropping heavy with rain. Small strands of light burst through the clouds, galloping down to give the world hope of another sunny day. As the light fights the clouds for the attention of the earth, the rain smashes down, large drops banging against everything in sight.
Helsing Manor sits low to the ground, drops smashing against it in a haunting rhythm, tarnishing its rusted bronze finishes that once were golden, stripped of their beauty by the harsh London weather. Marble pillars hold up the mausoleum at the front and hidden support beams in the back. A testament to the will of man, the Helsing Manor stands tall and just in the whirlwind of rain and wind that, for so long, has tried to tear it down.
“Why can’t I go,” Integra asks in a hushed tone, keeping her voice hollow and echoless. She sits in a chair, her legs crossed like a proper lady, her skirt a perfect length and her blouse a perfect fit. Abraham sits across his desk from her, their eyes locked in an intense war without words.
“I told you, it’s dangerous.”
“I’m a vampire hunter, dangerous comes with the territory.”
“For the last time, you are NOT a vampire hunter. Your training is far from complete,” Abraham pushes himself up, his desk shaking and the small glass of bourbon shaking on it. “This is much more dangerous than just another vampire.” Abraham slams the remainder of his drink and crosses the room to pour himself another from the crystal container on his counter. Integra sits still, her arms crossed and her face red, her eyes staring at the cleared desk full of hatred. She turns around and pushes herself up from her chair, staring with rage at her father.
“Is it about mom?!” Her voice screeches, no longer subdued and echoless but strong and angry. Her nostrils flared and her hair whipped in a frenzy of motion, Abraham turns around with his eyes locked on his forever-angry daughter.
“Will you just stop?”
“Why? Why do I have to stop? She was my mother!” Abraham closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, taking in the warm summer air with just a subtle bite from a cool breeze flirting with the shades of the window.
“Just stop, this isn’t the time to talk about her.”
“You can’t even say her name, can you? You can’t even say my name,” Integra whispers, slowly walking towards him with her fists clinched in a ball. “Why won’t you just accept that what happened, happened and try to move on,”
“Because my family died that night Integra. That isn’t something you forget,” a little tear flutters down from the corner of Abraham’s eye as his body begins to shake ever so subtly.
“Why don’t you just focus on the family you still have instead of obsessing over the family you lost ten years ago. Why can’t you just be the dad that played ball with me?” Abraham’s eyes burst open, tears pooling just at the surface, his face red-hot with anger, his body shaking violently now. He slams his glass of bourbon on the counter, anger pouring out of every motion.
“Because that dad died with your mother. And that Integra did too,” Abraham storms out of the room, leaving the door hanging open behind him. Integra crumples to her knees, rivers of tars pouring down her face as her hands, balled into fists, lie motionless on the ground. The door creaks open just a little wider and Seras’s head pokes around the corner, her blonde hair dipping down to the ground.
“Are you okay?” Seras asks, her voice flowing smoothly through the room like an autumn breeze. Integra un-balls her fists, holding herself up on one as she wipes the tears away with the other. Slowly, gradually, she pushes herself up from the floor, her body still shaking, barely able to stand on her own. “Do you need help?” Seras asks worriedly, rushing over to Integra to help steady her, putting her hand on Integra’s shoulder. Integra quickly brushes off Seras’s unwanted hand, spinning around and pushing past Seras.
“Just don’t talk to me, okay?” Integra says sternly to Seras before turning her back and walking out the door, leaving Seras alone and confused in Abraham’s office.
*
5 Years Ago
Integra’s foot slams hard against the wooden dummy, it’s oak body spinning in a flurry. Her blonde hair tied into a pony tail; sweat dripping slowly from her body. She bends over and pants, her hands on her knees, her body tight and tired.
“That was some good work,” Alucard says, a small grin on his face. “Bet you can’t break its arm off with a kick,” Integra stares at the wooden dummy: a solid block of wood stuck on a metal pole, a sharpie smile and eyes drawn on it, two wooden arms at different heights sticking out. Integra smiles as she remembers putting this together years ago. She takes a deep breath and stands tall.
“How much do you want to bet?” Alucard leans against the doorway, his face clinched in a thinking manner as he taps his finger against his chin. The smile creeps back onto his lips and his eyes light up. He snaps his fingers and points at Integra.
“I’ll convince your dad to take you on our next scouting mission. Not an actual field mission, but scouting,” Integra’s eyes light up like the sun as a devilish grin crosses her lips.
“Deal,” she takes a deep breath and focuses on the dummy. She steps up and unleashes a furious kick, just barely missing the dummy as the loses balance and falls to the ground. She sits there on her hands and knees for a moment, staring at the ground. She looks up to see Alucard laughing to himself, his hand over his mouth.
“I do have to apologize, but that was astoundingly awful,” Alucard says, barely managing to speak through his laugh, walking over to Integra to give her a hand up. “I’ll still talk to your father. No chance in hell he’d take you on a field mission with aim like that,” Alucard laughs again. Integra smiles at Alucard, her eyes wide with wonder about the mysterious vampire that entered her lives all those years go. Alucard, staring back at her, stops his laughing, it slowly rolls down to an innocent, playful “ha-ha.” Their eyes meet as the once cold room grows ever so slightly hotter. Then, in the moment, Integra’s eyes grow wide, her body stiffens, and her lips begin to shake. “What’s wrong?” He asks, he laughter completely gone, the unfamiliar feeling of the warm room growing chillier with the second.
“Dad?” She says. Alucard turns, and his eyes widen as Abraham waltzes into the room with another girl, roughly Integra’s age, at his side. Her long, flowing blonde hair reaches down her back; her bangs falling into the smile glued to her face; the diamond blue eyes filled with a mixture of glee and despair.
“Who is this?” Alucard asks, his voice harsh and cold.
“This is Seras,” Abraham’s voice echoes through the small training room. “She’s going to be joining us.”
“This is our house. What do you mean she’s going to be joining us?” Integra asks as her face grows hot with anger, her eyes squinted and locked on Seras. Abraham motions for everyone to follow him with a wave of his hand, and then turns to leave the room, Seras at his side. The four walk slowly to the den, their footsteps echoing in the weight of the moment. The all take their seats on the plush coaches, Abraham sitting next to Seras; Integra sitting across the room, her arms crossed and the anger evident on her face; Alucard pours himself a drink and stands behind the family, sipping at his scotch.
“Would you like to join us, Alucard?” Abraham asks, motioning Alucard to take his seat in an empty chair at the head of the room.
“This, my friend,” Alucard starts, putting his hand up and taking another sip of scotch as he leans against the wall. “Sounds like a family matter,” he finishes, his eyes still locked on the new girl. “Best of luck to you,” Abraham sighs, steadying himself to explain to his daughter.
“This once was an academy, a place where the vampire hunters of the future were raised and trained. It’s where I trained, it’s where you are training, it’s where generations of vampire hunters have trained—“
“It’s where generations of HELSINGS have trained!” Integra cuts in, her voice breaking into a screech.
“Will you let me finish?” Abraham asks, forcing Integra to let out a high-pitched sigh and look away, her arms still crossed in vehement anger. “Generations of vampire hunters have trained here,” he pauses waiting, for another outburst from Integra, only continuing when none arrives. “And I’m taking the initiative to take it back to its roots. This will return to being Helsing HQ, a place to train and deploy the next generation and the current generation of vampires, all under one roof.”
“So why the hell is she here? Why is she the ‘next generation of vampire hunters’?” Integra asks, still refusing to look at her father and Seras.
“Three years ago, her parents were killed by a vampire in front of her very eyes. Since then, she’s bounced from foster home to f—“
“Do you mind if I tell my own story?” Seras asks, her voice hushed but assertive. Abraham, shrugs and motions to her.
“Absolutely.”
“I bounced from foster home to foster home, researching everything I could about vampires. I found what I finally thought was a vampire and when I confronted him, well…I was right,” Seras says, her face starting to turn red with embarrassment. “But your father, Abraham, saved me, killing the vampire and telling me about this place, about a place where I could finally do something about the menace that killed my parents.”
“Well that’s great, isn’t it?” Integra stands up, stomping her foot on the ground. “So now I have a new sister, is that it? Someone who wants this? FINE!” Integra screams, rushing to her room. Abraham looks at Alucard, but Alucard expression says it all.
“Sorry, I’m here to kill vampires—not to deal with teenaged drama,” Alucard says, walking into a different room, still sipping at his glass of scotch.
*
Now
The wind blows hard as Integra sits alone, her face in her hands as tears flow freely down, every passing moment drenching her hands more and more in the salty water. She sits on a bench, hard on her back, the leaves billowing in the wind at Lee Valley, the moonlight the only thing cutting the otherwise dark night.
She looks up at the moon, tears still rolling from her eyes, and screams; all the rage in her body, all the hatred in her eyes, she releases at the night sky, her body trembling with the anger of a million men. She pounds her fists against the bench and slowly slides off, her body slamming against the ground as the world shakes around her. Through the haze of tears and the leaves on the tree, she sees a man walking towards her. Slowly, but surely, his large body lumbers towards her. She reaches into her pocket and grabs a small pistol, illegal in this part of the UK, she must be sure of a threat before pulling it out.
As the man moves closer, he pitch-black eyes bead in closer on her, his muscles rippling under his suit, sweat rolling down his black skin, a shining white smile emerging from the trees with two pointed teeth. A smile ripples across his face, and as he emerges into the light Integra sees a strange mark scrawled across his face—three red lines, one vertically from his forehead down his nose, to his chin; the other two horizontal just above and below his eyes from ear to ear. Integra quickly draws her pistol, aiming it at the stranger.
“It’s filled with wood, so think carefully,” she shouts, sure that this is another vampire just looking for a bite to eat.
“Darling, is not that weapon one of contraband?” His voice is smooth as silk, talking in an accent reminiscent of Kenya. Integra, through the haze of tears, holds steady, staring at the man as he stops, his tie whipping in the endless wind, his body broad and firm.
“I’m a van Helsing,” she shouts, hoping to scare the vampire away.
“I know quite well who you are, Integra van Helsing,” his smile widens as he watches the pistol shake in her hands.
“Then you know I’ll kill you in the blink of an eye!”
“I know no such thing. To me, you see, bullets from that gun will be just a nuisance,” the man says, moving slowly closer to Integra. “Also, I know that you have faced a vampire not once. I believe I have the upper hand,” Integra fires a shot, her aim perfect as he lodges itself in the man’s heart, causing him to stumble back and vomit blood on the trail. Integra quickly stands, running down the trail from the man, her heart pumping faster than her legs to escape. She looks over her shoulder to see the man disappeared, all that’s left is a puddle of blood. As her head swings back around she runs into what seems like a brick wall, falling quickly from her feet, smashing to the ground. She looks up to see not a brick wall, but the man standing tall and still like a rock. She points the gun up at him again, but doesn’t get a chance to fire it as the man knocks it from her hands. “You are stupid, little girl!” He screams, his voice powerful as it races through her body. “And your friend I know stands just behind us!” He yells again. Integra’s eyes widen as she looks around for Alucard, a knight to save her from death, but instead find Seras standing at the end of the path, her hair flitting in the wind. The man quickly races down the path, delivering a swift punch to Seras’s gut, knocking her to her knees before smashing his foot on her back, knocking her out. In seconds, he is back standing in front of Integra, his muscles still rippling beneath the surface of his suit. “Your turn,” he mutters as he kicks Integra square in the jaw, whipping her head back and smashing it against the cement pavement as everything goes black.
*
4 Years Ago
Seras’s foot slams hard against the wooden dummy, it’s oak body spinning in a flurry. Her blonde hair tied into a pony tail; sweat dripping slowly from her body. She bends over and pants, her hands on her knees, her body tight and tired. She looks up at the wooden creature, the same sharpie smile that was on it when she got here a year ago, except now it has two little fangs coming from the corners of its mouth. She stands firm and lets out a powerful yell before smash the dummy again with a swift kick, knocking it off its support as she watches it flop to the ground.
Integra sits alone on a bench, the cold autumn air rushing through her hair, giving her goosebumps all along her back. A sole tear trickles down her cheek as she stairs through the frosted window, her body shivering as her father crosses the small room and picks up the wooden dummy, setting it back in its support and motioning at Seras, most likely to take another kick. Abraham’s smile is wider than Integra has seen it in years.
“You’re just killing yourself doing this,” Alucard says, his voice carrying in the wispy autumn winds. His eyes hold steady on Integra as he sips a glass of scotch, his tight black vest over a tailored dress shirt with close-fitting slacks on, just as he always wears around the house. Integra quickly whips away her tear and looks away from her father and Seras and instead at Alucard.
“What does he see in her?” Alucard takes another sip of his scotch and quickly crosses the meadow with the speed and ease only a vampire could exhibit. He motions to the seat next to Integra and she slowly scoots over, making room for him. He takes a seat in unison with another sip of scotch.
“Maybe he doesn’t see anything in her. Maybe his intentions are to train the next generation of vampire hunters.”
“Why her? She looks…”
“So much like you,” Alucard finishes, taking another sip.
“Yeah. And now he doesn’t even notice where I am.”
“You’re strong and independent. Maybe he just doesn’t realize that yet.”
“When will he?” Alucard stands up, motioning towards the house.
“I can’t really feel the cold too well, but it has got to be freezing,” Alucard starts walking towards the house. “Why don’t you come inside?” Integra stares down at her shoes, shaking her head as another tear drop falls. “Suit yourself,” Alucard says before disappearing into the house.
Tears begin flowing freely down in streams down her cheeks, dripping down and forming puddles on the brisk ground. She slams her right fist against the bench in anger. Why her? Why her?! WHY HER?!?! The cold winds chew at her skin, eating into every thought, every motion, every moment as she shivers and shakes until it all falls away in a cloud of warmth. She opens her eyes to see a thick red jacket draped around her reach down to the ground. She looks up and sees Alucard standing over her, a smile on his face and a hand on her back. She stands up and wraps her arms around her as tears flow. He stands silent for a moment, unsure what to do, until finally returning the hug, wrapping his arms around her.
*
Now
The water drips softly down from the small opening in the roof. Tat, tat, tat. Integra’s eyes open slowly and at first the world is fuzzy. She smells a rotting smell, like wherever she is hasn’t been cleaned in ages. Her ears still ring from her head being thrown against the ground. What happened?
She looks to her side, the world becoming a little clearer, and she sees Seras tied to a chair beside her. Integra quickly pulls her arms and discovers that she, too, is tied to a chair. She looks all around her, taking in the sights—a two story warehouse, the roof dilapidated and falling apart, water seeping slowly through the cracks.
“Seras,” she whispers hoping to wake her friend. When Seras doesn’t respond, Integra lashes out with a swift kick which nods Seras back awake. Seras’s eyes open slowly as she takes in the same experience as Integra, pulling against her own constraints, her eyes growing wide and flooded with uncertainty.
“Where are we?” Seras says, her voice echoing through the building.
“SHH!” Integra hisses, forcing Seras to retreat ever so slightly.
“Where are we?” Seras asks again, whispering this time.
“I’m not sure, but someone attacked me in the park and you—“
“Please shut up,” a powerful comes beaming through the small opening in the door. The dark figure from the park pokes through, his muscles ripping away at his tight suit. “Your voices annoy me.”
“Where are we?” Integra asks, her voice calm and collected.
“A warehouse in Reading,” the man says, pulling up a chair and taking a seat.
“I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you are messing with the wrong people!” Seras screams, struggling against her constraints. The man’s mouth twists up in a crazy smile.
“Are you talking about C…Alucard?” He says, stuttering before saying Alucard’s name. Integra and Seras’s eyes go wide, Seras’s mouth practically dropping to the ground. “Yes, yes—I’m aware of the traitor in our midst. I’ve actually already called him.
“Why would you call him?” Integra asks, her eyes narrowing at the man, her words cool and calculated.
“Because I believe either he or your father has my ring.”
“The six-sided star ring?” Integra asks, her voice faltering on the last word. She looks at the man, and he only nods. Integra shakes her head and closes her eyes, remembering that night—the cold breeze, the blood, the fear in her father’s eyes…her brother’s mangled body on the floor. “NO! It couldn’t be you! You were the one?!” The man lets out a hardy laugh, his voice echoing loud throughout the warehouse, shaking its walls.
“No, no. You think I would be stupid enough to break into Helsing manor and NOT kill everyone there?” He laughs again. “Please, little girl—give me some credit.”
“B-but the ring,”
“I haven’t had that ring for years,” he stops and takes a deep breath, his midnight-black eyes staring into Integra’s soul. “But I plan on getting it back.”
“Just let us GO!” Seras screams, her voice shaking the warehouse. She struggles rapidly against her constraints until a strong blow to the face knocks her on her side.
“Will you just shut up?!” The man yells at her as he stares at her laying sideways on the ground, unable to get up.
“Really, you’re going to hit a girl Incognito?” A soft voice climbs through the wind and blows steadily into the man’s ears. A grin crosses his face as he turns to see Alucard’s red coat billowing in the wind, one hand on his hat and one holding his blade in the window of the warehouse, his dark hair both still and moving in the silence of the window.
“Well, well, look who is playing hero,” Incognito says as he slowly steps towards Alucard. “Does it feel wrong to save the life of a human?”
“Not at all,” Alucard says as he leaps down from the window, landing softly and silently on the floor, his eyes glowing red, locked with Incognito’s. “Does it feel wrong to beat up on defenseless girls?”
“Defenseless?” Incognito says indignantly, motioning at Integra. “The heir of Abraham is what you call defenseless? Trained by the Helsings AND by YOU?” Incognito’s eyes stare deeply at Integra with contempt. “I think our definitions of the word differ, old friend.”
“Old friend?” Integra asks, looking up at Alucard. “You guys know each other?”
“You never talk about me??” Incognito says with exclaim, putting his hand to his heart in fake surprise. “How could you?!”
“We were never friends—I knew you for all of ten minutes!” Alucard says, suddenly rushing at the monster, piercing Incognito’s stomach with his blade. He quickly pulls the blade out as Incognito spits blood up on the ground and falls to his knees. Alucard rushes to Integra’s chair and begins cutting her free before Incognito appears and delivers a swift blow to Alucard, knocking him back against the wall and dropping his blade.
“I know that the minister gave you my ring, now where is it?!” He screams, his body shaking with fury as he rushes at Alucard again, attempting to deliver a strong blow to his face but Alucard ducks and runs back to his blade and, with one swift swipe, cuts Seras free.
“Run, girl!” Alucard yells at Seras, rushing at Incognito again, slicing open his chest and watching blood swim down his already blood-soaked suit. Seras stands and runs to Integra attempting to undo her constraints. “NO!” Alucard yells as Incognito rushes to Seras, picking her up by her throat and throwing her against the wall. Alucard slices both of Incognito’s Achilles with one slash and watches as he drops to the ground and looks over his shoulder, snarling at Alucard. Alucard appears before Seras, picking her up and rushing her out of the warehouse. Incognito just laughs as Integra just sits still and alone, fear piercing her generally calm eyes.
“I guess we’ve found out who he really cares for, haven’t we?”
*
1 Year Ago
The door creeks open slowly as lonely strands of light sneak into the dark study. Integra pokes her head around the corner and sees her father’s desk sitting still at the back of the room; two glass containers of bourbon and cognac to the right and a picture of her family…her new family. Abraham stands at the center, his arms around both Integra and Seras, with Pip off to the right and a strange floating glass of bourbon on the left. A small smile breaks on her face—Alucard can’t be seen in pictures, of course.
She shuts the door slowly and softly behind her as she walks silently through the room and pulls open the only unlocked drawer on his desk and pulls out the first thing inside. A paper folded three ways as to fit in an envelope. She partially unfolds it and sees it’s the deed to the manor. Seven names are written on it—the seven Helsings it has been passed down to. She sets the deed back in the desk and she pulls out her father’s newest journal. She opens it up, looking at the first page:
She is still young, but she is so strong. I can’t believe how strong she has gotten since her mother passed.
A small tear drips from Integra’s eyes as she reads through her father’s journal, a relieved grin sitting across her face.
She’s learned fighting well—so well, I bet she could take on anyone and anything to come at her—nothing like before. She’s fierce, and she’s smart. If a vampire crosses her, I feel sorry for them. I never thought I would have family again, not after that night, but Seras has made me believe in the idea of family once again.
“What are you doing in here, Integra?” Alucard whispers from the cracked door, his body fit into a tight black vest, his eyes locked on Integra, tears flooding from her eyes, the grin that once adorned her face disappeared. She slams the cover of the journal and throws it across the room, her body shaking with rage. Alucard, in a blink of the eye, crosses the room and opens the book, reading the first few pages. His eyes go wide as he looks at the shivering ball of rage on the floor, her arms crossed her body. “You shouldn’t have read this.”
“BUT I DID!” She screams at him, standing up shakily, barely able to keep her balance. She storms from the room, throwing the door open, her blonde hair in a flutter behind her. Alucard quickly chases after her.
“What are you planning on doing, Integra? Tell your father you broke into his office and read his private journal?”
“Fuck him and his journal!” She yells, still stomping down the hall. Pip Hamilton pokes his head out of his room, staring at her as she flies down the hall in a rage, Alucard at her tale.
“What’s going on here?” He asks, confused as ever.
“Stay in your room,” Alucard says, slamming the door shut on his head.
“Integra, stop.”
“NO!” She screams, kicking open the door to Seras’s room. Seras, sitting on her bed in her pajamas on her laptop, earphones in, looks up at Integra fuming in her doorway. She pulls one earphone out and raises an eyebrow.
“Everything okay?” She asks, slowly closing the lid to her laptop. Alucard softly places his hand on Integra’s shoulder, but she shrugs it off, lunging at Seras and delivering a place blow to her face, knocking her sideways. Seras rolls with the momentum off her bed before springing up, a scowl on her face, the two women only separate by the bed between them. “What the hell was that?”
“You come into MY home and think you’re the queen of FUCKING ENGLAND?!” Integra screams lunging at Seras again and landing a shot on her stomach, now standing tall on Seras’s bed and at a better angle, throwing a kick a Seras that misses and knocks a lamp to the floor. Seras, taking advantage of Integra’s lowered balance, karate chops the back of her knee on her plant leg and knocks her over, her head hitting the floor hard. Alucard steps in between the two as Seras throws another punch, landing against Alucard’s chest instead on Integra.
“STOP THIS NOW!” He shouts, his voice echoing around the house. He hears feet rushing towards the room and Pip is the first to arrive, a stake in hand in case of a vampire attack. “EVERYBODY SIT DOWN!” He screams again, and Pip immediately listens, taking a seat on the ground as not to upset Alucard any further. Integra tries to get around Alucard to get at Seras but, with one simple motions, Alucard knocks Integra back into a chair at Seras’s desk. Seras, following suit, takes a seat on her bed. Abraham and Walter come into the room and look at the welt developing on Seras’s eye and Integra grasping her knee in pain.
“What the hell happened here?” Abraham asks, standing in between the two, not sure what to do.
“Why don’t you ask your fucking daughter?!” Integra yells, her eyes filled with rage.
“Excuse me?!” Abraham exclaims, quickly crossing towards Integra with anger in his own eyes. Alucard grabs his arm before he can get any closer. Abraham looks over his shoulder at Alucard shaking his head.
“We need to talk, Abes,” Alucard says in a fully serious voice, his body the only in the room not shaking with rage. Abraham takes a deep breath and shakes his arm loose of Alucard’s grip.
“My study then,” Abraham says as he turns his back on Integra and starts out the room. “Walter, see to it that these two girls get to bed safely tonight, will you?” Walter nods his head as Alucard and Abraham disappear down the hallway.
“Off to your room then, Integra,” Walter says, gesturing to leave Seras’s room.
“Fine. Whatever.” Integra stands and walks out the room, stomping her feet down the hallway.
*
Now
A single tear drops in the silence of the warehouse, pounding against the concrete floor, sending rifts of sound throughout the building. In the corner, Incognito stands silent and still, his dark black eyes staring at Integra, his suit drench in blood, his body shaking ever so slightly. A smile breaks across his face.
“So how does it feel to be abandoned by Alucard?” He asks, his voice bitter and playful. Integra turns her head, refusing to look at Incognito. “He saved Seras first, that must hurt,” he says, walking slowly towards her. “And now, you’re going to die,” Incognito reaches out and puts his hand on her head, his grim smile filled with the pain and anguish of thousands.
“No she isn’t,” a voice says from above as a figure cloaked in red drops from the sky and runs his blade straight through Incognito’s left arm, detaching it from his body. Alucard stands, the blood from Incognito splattered across his jacket. “You owe me for dry-cleaning,” he says, slashing at Incognito’s body again and pushing him to the ground with his foot. Incognito’s smile never fades.
“I’m glad you could join us,” he says, blood spewing from the gaping hole that once was his left arm. He steadies his body and lifts his right arm at Alucard. “My blood shall bind us, from now until darkness befalls us,” suddenly Alucard grabs his head and drops to his knees; Incognito’s blood splattered across his jacket begins moving on its own, forming a cross over Alucard’s heart.
“NO!” Integra screams as she watches Alucard’s eyes delight and a grimace cross his face. “STOP!” She screams at Incognito, his grin growing wider with the second.
“No, Alucard,” Incognito says, standing up and delivering a kick to Alucard’s throat that sends him flying back into a wall. “This spell will bind us by my blood. You are my prisoner now.”
CON.
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Post by worldking on Jun 28, 2017 6:21:58 GMT
Chapter 3: Dark Memories, Part 2
7 Years Ago
A large house stands alone in a field atop a hill. It stands three stories tall, its windows like eyes looking out on the world, lonely and bored from centuries of being alone. It’s dark purple roof decays in the rain, almost every third shingle missing from the structure’s hat; its pail white façade being chip away with every raindrop; all the lights off in the house except for a single one coming from a window seemingly in the basement.
Two cars sit the driveway—a Range Rover, its square top sticking out as admittedly modern in such a rustic environment; the other a 60’s Mustang, its long body stretching across the pavement, putting the Range Rover to shame. Alucard’s hands rest lightly on the wheel of his 1975 Falcon as he turns slowly into the winding drive-way, pulling up next to the two cars. He turns off the car and steps out of it, his long red jacket fluttering in the wind, his long, shiny black hair glinting in the moonlight, his eyes focused on the front door. He pulls his red, wide-brimmed hat from his passenger seat, placing it ever so precariously on his head, and walking towards the door, one hand on his blade, ready at any moment if a trap is sprung.
As his foot lands on the first step up to the door, he hears the soft creaking sound and is overcome by a sudden silence to the situation. The wind stops blowing, the world stops spinning, and the night grows ever darker. He looks up at the door just a few steps away as his grip tightens on his sword, watching the glass doorknob twist slowly. This is it. The door creeks open, groaning as its bones shake and shatter, and on the other side stands a large black man, his eyes black as midnight, his muscles bulging against his suit, threatening to tear the buttons off at any moment; a smile on the man’s face cracks through his otherwise stoic mirage; a small golden ring with a six-sided star lays on his right hand. A grin matching the man’s cracks across Alucard’s face as his grip loosens on his blade.
“Incognito, how have you been?” Alucard asks, walking up and shaking the man’s hand with glee as the two embrace.
“Traveling the world, learning from some of the darkest magicians,” Incognito says, motioning for Alucard to enter the almost empty house. “Still waiting until I’m strong enough to take my homeland back.”
“Whose house is this?” Alucard asks, looking around at the large foyer that only has a single table in the middle of it with a bottle of scotch on it.
“Not sure. But the party is downstairs,” Incognito motions towards the stairs in the corner leading to the basement.
“In a house like this, the salves are probably downstairs too,” Alucard jokes, walking to the stairs.
“Can’t say no one here has slaves—but no one brought them.” The two share a smile as they head down the crowded and cramped staircase, having to duck at one point to reach the bottom of the stairs. Incognito flings the basement door open and Alucard looks around, seeing a dimly lit room with a single table in the center, one man sitting at the table.
“Niklaus?” Alucard says in confusion. The man sitting at the table, his body smaller but ridged, his hair unkempt, his leather jacket thrown across his shoulders in a haphazard fashion, his beard untrimmed and his hair looking as though he had just left bed, and his eyes an amber color, filled with a mixture of anger and happiness. A glass of scotch is lifted to his lips which he sips at lightly with a large smile plastered across his face. Alucard stares at Niklaus, the smile once on his face having disappeared into an abyss, Alucard’s eyes focused on Niklaus’s golden ring with a six-sided star on it. Incognito looks at the two stark differences in reaction to seeing each other with confusion.
“You two know each other?” Incognito asks, crossing to the table to pick up his own glass of scotch.
“Oh, we’ve run into each other once or twice,” Niklaus says as he sets his scotch on the table and motions for Alucard to take a seat. “But I go by Klaus now, ol’ chap.”
“And I go by Alucard,” Alucard says as he takes a seat, taking a glass of scotch Incognito poured for him. Klaus’s smile spreads wider as he attempts to hold his laughs back.
“How clever is that?”
“Enough. Why was I asked here?” Alucard says, taking a sip of his scotch. Klaus motions to Incognito, who stands and clears his throat.
“We are here today to raise Cain.”
*
Now
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The blood trickles softly onto the ground from rivers running down Alucard’s legs, orginating from three large gashes in his chest. Alucard, powerless, hangs high on chains attached to the ceiling, his shirt and jacket removed and thrown to the ground, his body shaking with pain, his head hung low as his feet can’t even touch the ground. Below him, Incognito sits in the chair that once held Seras, his left arm lying on the ground, Alucard’s blade held in his right hand.
“How does it feel to be completely and totally powerless, Alucard?” He asks as a deep laugh bursts out from his lips. “Soon, all the vervain will be drained from your body and you’ll have to tell me where my ring is,” Alucard lifts his head, looking down on Incognito a small smile crosses his face.
“So this is your master plan? Kidnap two girls I’m taking care of, wait for me to dirty you up a little, and use some magic to get me to talk?”
“More or less,” Incognito says with a shrug.
“Well then, obviously it won’t work. How is your invasion of Bialya going?”
“Oh go fuck yourself.”
“No, seriously, last time we talked you were on the edge of taking back your home. I don’t follow world events very closely, so how is that going?”
“It would go well if you’d just tell me where my goddamn ring is!” Incognito shouts, standing up and slashing at Alucard’s leg, opening another wound pouring blood. Alucard laughs and coughs as blood continues to trickle down. His eyes flit over for just a moment to see Integra tied to a chair in the corner, her mouth gagged, her eyes filled with fear.
“What happens if I tell you where the ring is?” Alucard asks, spitting up a little blood to the floor, watching Incognito deftly dodge it. Incognito looks over at Integra in the corner, soft tears filling her eyes. He points the blade at her and looks back at Alucard.
“I let her live.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well you may just have to trust me,” Incognito says, using his speed to appear before Integra. “Where is the ring?”
“Abraham has it,” Alucard says, forcing Incognito to look up at him, his smile widening.
“Now we’re talking.”
*
7 Years Ago
“Who is Cain?” Alucard asks, his expression stone cold as he takes a sip of his scotch.
“Do you know nothing about vampires?” Klaus asks rolling his eyes.
“Please, let’s not fight,” Incognito pulls the golden ring from his finger and places it in the center of the table. “Klaus, we need your ring as well.” Klaus pulls his ring off setting it in the center of the table. “Alucard, yours please?” Incognito looks at Alucard, expectantly waiting for Alucard to pull his ring off his hand. Alucard looks up at Incognito strangely.
“I don’t have a ring,” Alucard says, stirring a stony silence. Klaus stands up, slamming his scotch on the table.
“Bloody liar! We all have them!” Klaus screams, grabbing his ring from the center of the table, grasping it tightly in his hand.
“Who is we?!” Alucard asks, deftly following Klaus’s lead and standing quickly, his eyes narrowed, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword.
“The originals,” Incognito says, his voice the only calm one in the room. Klaus’s eyes narrow, his breath shortens, his heartbeat speeds up and his body shakes ever so slightly. “All of the original vampires sired from Cain have rings—they cover our weaknesses.”
“I’ll give you two minutes to explain,” Alucard says, his grip tightening on the hilt of his blade. Incognito takes a deep breath, motioning for the two vampires to take a seat, which is ignored by both.
“Fine,” Incognito starts, taking a sip of his owns scotch. “The legend tells it that for punishment for murdering his brother, Cain was cursed to a life of wandering the Earth in eternal bloodlust, unable to be killed, unable to be satisfied,” Incognito pauses, taking another sip of his scotch, hoping the story would lessen the tension in the room. “Cain wandered the Earth, feasting upon the blood of any human he came by—in the daylight he fed, in the moonlight he fed, in fire he fed, in water he fed. One by one, he sired four vampires—the original vampires, whom each had a weakness that Cain himself did not possess. Turning a sorcerer, Cain had four rings fashioned, one specifically designed to cover each vampires’ flaws—but, when using the rings, Cain discovered that the flaws hidden on his creations were reinvested into himself. Where one was no longer vulnerable to the sun, Cain was; where one was no longer vulnerable to vervain, Cain was; where one was no longer vulnerable to white oak, Cain was; where one was no longer vulnerable to fire, Cain was. Seeing his imminent death because of the rings, he disappeared, vowing only to return when the rings were all destroyed.”
“What the hell does this have to do with me?” Alucard asks, his hand still tightly gripping his blade.
“Don’t you see, you dolt? To raise Cain, we need all four of the Original Rings. Mine, Incognito’s, yours and—“
“I don’t have a ring,” Alucard says, interrupting Klaus. Klaus’s amber eyes grow wide and his hand grasps tightly around his glass, shattering it to pieces, shards of glass flying everywhere.
“Alucard, surely you have your ring,” Incognito says, sensing the pressure in the room building to an uncomfortable level.
“I never had a ring, Incognito. I guess I just wasn’t important enough to whoever this Cain is to get one. I think I’ll be going now,” Alucard turns to the door, his hand still grasping his blade, and he hears Klaus’s growl echoing through the room.
“We have not come this far, fought this hard for so many centuries, for you to ruin it!” Klaus says, his muscles tightening, ready to pounce. Alucard stands still, listening to Incognito’s deep breaths mix with Klaus’s throaty growls, vaguely masking the tick, tick, tick subtly playing in the background.
Before Klaus can pounce; before Alucard can draw his blade; before Incognito can grab his ring; all three are engulfed in a burst of fire.
*
Now
“So what’s it going to be, Alucard?” Incognito asks, his eyes focused on Integra, her breathing clogged by the rag in her mouth, her eyes filled to the brim with fear. Incognito kneels, his black eyes staring into Integra’s soul. “The things I could do to you—you just look delicious.”
“Don’t do it.” Alucard says, his body trembling with pain, the last drops of blood trickling down from his quickly healing wounds.
“You know what, I think you’ve disrespected me long enough. Time for a bit of punishment,” Incognito smiles, his long, sharp four front teeth glimmering in the dim moonlight. He opens his mouth wide and plunges his teeth into Integra’s neck as she struggles against her constraints, tears bursting from her eyes as Incognito slowly drains the blood from her.
“STOP IT!” Alucard yells, his voice echoing about the chamber. Incognito quickly pulls his mouth away, smalls piles of smoke coming up from his fangs.
“ARGH!” He screams, falling back on his behind, unable to catch himself with his left arm missing.
“She has vervain in her system, you idiot!” Alucard yells at Incognito, his body trembling with anger. Incognito whips the blood from his mouth, staring at his sobbing victim. He pulls himself up and raises Alucard’s blade high in the air. “DON’T HURT HER!” Alucard yells as he watches Incognito’s blade to come down fast on top of Integra. Alucard hangs, staring in disbelief, as Incognito swipes again and Integra’s constraints fall to the ground. She immediately reaches for the gag around her mouth and undoes it.
“Run along, little girl, time to let the men talk,” Incognito says, turning and walking towards Alucard. “So, I’ve let her run free—where is the ring?” Incognito turns sharply and prepares to strike as he hears the pitter patter of Integra’s shoes running up behind him, lowering his guard when he sees her unharmed.
“Alucard!” She yells, tears still river-ing down her face. “Alucard, how can I get you out of here?”
“Just leave. Go to the manor.” Alucard says, his voice fading from the pain. Integra just stares at him—she can practically hear Incognito’s smirk behind her. She whips the tears from her face, staring at Alucard and then looking down at the puddle of blood lying on the floor, before looking back up at Alucard.
“Will you just go you blithering idiot?” Incognito asks with a sigh. Integra kneels down and dips her hand in the ever-thickening pool of Alucard blood.
“Incognito, is it?” Integra asks, her voice still shaky but sure. Incognito remains in silence, his blacks as staring through her head. “In that story, you’re the vampire allergic to vervain right?”
“Are you going to leave with your life or stay for it, young girl?” Listening to his egotistical words, a small smile breaks out on Integra’s lips. Integra pulls her hand from the blood and turns, the fear that once was trapped in her eyes replaced with glory.
“You’re draining Alucard of his blood because he ingests vervain, yes?”
“Last chance, girl.” Integra doesn’t back down, instead taking a step towards her captor. She unclenches her fist revealing a palm bloodied with Alucard’s blood.
“There’s still vervain in the blood, dumbass!” Integra says with such glee that Incognito takes a step back before Integra shoves the bloody palm in Incognito’s face, burning his skin and dropping him to his knees.
“You’ll die for this!” He screams, raising his blade for another strike, only to be cut short when Integra pulls a small bead from her belt and spikes it at the ground.
“Vervain bomb, bitch!” She yells, the bead exploding on the ground in a mist of water laced with vervain burning through Incognito’s suit, peeling his skin from his face. He screams loud, his voice echoing through the warehouse. Without another word, he stands and disappears from the warehouse. Integra turns to smile at Alucard, but his strength has already faded and his eyes are closed. She watches as the small bloody cross crumbles away from his heart.
*
7 Years Ago
The smell of burning flesh perverts the air as Alucard opens his eyes, his vision blurring and his ears ringing. As the blurry blobs begin to come to form, Alucard sees the swirling fires encompassing the small basement, eating away at the wooden table, fueled by the bottle of scotch, seeking its victims. Klaus lies in the corner, his arm dislocated, blood dribbling down from his mouth, his body unmoving like a stone.
“W-where is it?!” Incognito screams, his voice barely heard over the rage of the fire. Alucard watches as Incognito dashes around the room, his suit ablaze, turning over debris, throwing aside the unburned remnants of the house.
“Incognito, calm down!” Alucard shouts, his voice lost in the flames. Incognito stops, barely having heard the feintest of whispers, and turns to see Alucard, sitting dazed on the floor—his eyes narrow and his shoulders square as a look of anger spreads across his face like a disease.
“You…” Incognito mutters, his body shaking with anger. Alucard quickly pushes himself to his feet, pulling his blade from its sheath.
“Incognito, what is missing?”
“MY RING!” He shouts, appearing in front of Alucard, knocking the blade from his hand, grasping his throat and smashing him against the wall. “WHERE IS MY RING?!”
“I don’t know. Why would I know?”
“There are four rings. They cover four weaknesses!”
“I know! But do you see any vervain down here? You’ll be safe while we look for—“
“No—you said you didn’t have a ring,” Incognito mutters to himself.
“I don’t have one.” The two sit in silence, the flames wrapping around them as Incognito is mesmerized by the force of the fire, his suit slowly burning away, showing the mass of a man with pure power in his arm.
“Fire is your weakness,” Incognito says. “Fire is your weakness!” He screams, slamming Alucard against the wall again. Alucard uses his core to get his legs between Incognito and himself, flinging Incognito away with a swift kick to the gut.
“We will find your ring, In—“
“YOU TOOK IT!” Incognito rushes at Alucard and delivers a powerful bunch to Alucard’s face, throwing Alucard’s head against the wall and cracking the hard concrete. Alucard grabs his blade from the ground and with three strikes to Incognito’s chest wards him off. “Why doesn’t the fire hurt you?”
“I’ve got many secrets, Incognito—but do you see a ring?” Alucard asks, holding his hands up for Incognito to see. “What say we leave this, we look for the ring, find out who blew up this meeting, and go from there?”
“NO!” Incognito screams again, his pitch-black eyes filled with rage.
“Then you leave me no choice.” Alucard appears behind Incognito and juts his blade through his stomach, dropping Incognito to his knees. Alucard lifts his right wrist to his mouth and punctures it with his teeth, two streams of blood steadily flow down his arm. Alucard places his bleeding wrist against Incognito’s mouth and watches as the man writhes in pain as the vervain-laced blood slowly works its way into his mouth and burns his lips. Incognito struggles but quickly loses his strength unable to fight back against Alucard. Alucard pulls his arm away and pulls the blade from his back, sheathing it. “I hope you find your ring.” Alucard picks his red hat off the ground where the explosion left it and, placing it squarely on his head, walks slowly up the stairs, the raging fire engulfing him as he steps through it, but quickly dissipating as he arrives on the other side. He pushes open the front door and steps into the wondrous moonlight.
*
Now
The warm, calming glow of blood flows softly into his mouth as the darkness begins to wash away.
“Alucard?” A soft voice crushes through the darkness as Alucard continues to feed on the warm blood, his body writhing in pain. He slowly opens his eyes to see a blurry Integra pulling her arm away and whipping loose blood away on her blouse.
“I-Integra?” Alucard mutters as he whips his mouth of the blood and palms his chest, feeling the scars forming from powerful strikes of a blade, touching his wrists and remembering the chaffing of the chains. “Where’s Incognito?” Alucard asks, pushing his body up from the pool of his own blood.
“He ran when I sprayed him with vervain. I don’t know how much longer we have until he gets back,” Integra puts Alucard’s arm around her shoulders and begins walking to the door of the warehouse.
“We have to get you inside the manor,” Alucard moans, his head hung in defeat.
“We have to get you there. You look like you’re on your death bed.” A small smile crosses Alucard’s face.
“Don’t worry, I’m immortal.”
“Yeah, whatever. Please tell me you brought the car? I’m not walking all the way back to London.”
*
New York City
Darkness. A strange musty smell. Two Ukrainian men in one corner booth, and a white man in a trench coat in the other, his blonde hair serving as the only thing to lighten the dingy room. A lit cigarette sits on his lips as he takes a puff, blowing it into the ceiling fan; a small glass of liquid in his hand, a strange, light-brown color. One glass of bourbon sits in front of him. Soft jazz and the rotating fan serve as the only sounds in the bar.
The three men look up as waves of light and sound roll in from the street, colors and voices one would come here to run away from. A broad-shouldered man walks through the door, shutting it softly; his brown trench coat almost touching the ground; his black leather boots clacking against the hardwood floor as he shuffles across the room, bee-lining for the blonde man. He sits down across from the blonde man, his eyes brown and wide.
“How was the flight?” The blonde man asks, taking another puff from his cigarette. The new man looks down at his bourbon, sniffing it, and then taking a sip—pleasantly surprising.
“About as good as a fourteen-hour flight could possibly be.”
“Fourteen hours? The flight shouldn’t take more than nine. What did you have—two layovers?”
“The Helsing family is on a…tight budget, lately.”
“I hope I can expect full compensation for my help?”
“Have I ever provided otherwise?”
“No,” the blonde takes another puff from his cigarette and another sip of his drink. “So, Abraham, where is it?” Abraham reaches into his pocket, producing a golden ring with a six-sided star on the crest. “And you want me to track it?”
“Yes. I need to know who’s this is,” Abraham says, taking another sip of his bourbon.
“Alright, I’m going to need a shot of Johnny Walker Blue for the ritual.”
“To act as a medium for the magic?”
“No, I’ve got a killer headache and nice liquor usually fixes it,” the two men share a smile as Abraham shimmies out of the booth.
“If it finds me the man who murdered my family, whatever you need John.”
CON.
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Post by worldking on Jul 16, 2017 7:12:42 GMT
Chapter 4: Dark Memories, Part 3
10 Years Ago
“Are we there yet?” Integra asks, her feet kicking up and down in her black flats with pink bows on them. Abraham looks back for just a second, his eyes meeting his daughter’s and a smile slicking across his face. Her head whips out the window as they pass an elderly couple walking their dog. Her short brown hair is pulled back into piggy tails and her small ten-year-old body shoved in a black poufy dress. Abraham turns back to look at the winding road ahead, just a few miles away from the pavement turning to dirt and the houses on either side turn to trees.
“Just a few more minutes, darling,” Elizabeth says. Abraham looks over at his wife and grabs her hand, resting it on the counsel.
“Are you nervous, dear?” He asks, staring into her crystal blue eyes, so full of life, so full of hope.
“For what?” She asks, playfully rolling her eyes with a devious smile on her face. “To meet the infamous van Helsing family?”
“I know you’re playing it cool, but come on?” He says, the steering wheel slipping out of his hands momentarily as he hits the dirt road. Elizabeth breaks out laughing.
“Maybe you should focus more on the road and less on me meeting your mysterious family!”
“Come on, El, seriously,” Abraham pauses, looking back at Integra as she spaces out into the distance. “You know how much danger even being around these guys can be.”
“And that’s why we decided to mostly keep our family away from them. If Lawrence has been here all summer long, how bad can it be?”
“Fine,” Abraham starts with a huff. “Let’s just hope the Salvatores aren’t around.”
“Lucy? What’s wrong with Lucy?”
“Lucy is fine, it’s the family she married into I have second thoughts about.”
“I guess. When we met Stefan, he didn’t seem that bad.”
“We also had a lot of Vodka. Crazy how Vodka changes your perspective, isn’t it?” Abraham says with a laugh, his smile growing bigger as he looks back at El. How could he be so lucky?
“Am I gonna see Lawrence? I haven’t seen him in FOREVER!”
“Lawrence has been staying with your grandpa, Integra, he will be here,” El says, looking back at her sunshine in the back seat.
“Why don’t I get to spend the summer with gramps?”
“Because, silly, you wanted to go to Water World. We gave you the choice, you chose Water World.” Integra sits in the back, her face scrunched in thought as her little brain runs at a million miles per hour. Before either of them can say a word—
“We’re here,” Abraham says as they pull through the large, open metal gate, coming into the drive of a large, beautiful mansion reaching several stories high. “Welcome to Helsing manor—welcome to my childhood.” As the family drives up to house they see a dozen or so people standing out on the lawn—a few playing Frisbee, the others standing around sipping on drinks. Integra climbs up to the door, sticking her head out the open window.
“LAWRENCE!” She shouts, her eyes wide and filled with joy as she watches her brother catch a blue Frisbee mid-air and fall to the ground. He looks up and see his sister and a large smile grows across his face. Abraham comes to a stop and presses a button to unlock the back doors.
“Go on, sweetie.” He says as he watches Integra fling herself out the window of the car and start running towards her brother, colliding in a big bear hug with him.
“How many Helsings are there?” El asks, looking at the large crowd and seeing another dozen or so people at the side of the house.
“Well there’s us and the Salvatores, then there is my brother Jake. That’s just those of us that are from my father. Who knows about his family? We are massive, and Dad did everything he could to get as many of us here as possible.” Abraham parks the car behind a small grey Corvette. Abraham and El climb out of the car and are immediately greeted by Lucy, her long red hair whisking behind her as she runs up to hug her brother.
“ABES!” Lucy screams as she collides with her brother, the two siblings embracing each other. El just smiles at the reunited family.
“I thought I was the only one who called up Abes, honey?” She says.
“I just don’t want it catching on,” Abraham says, detaching from his sister and locking the door to his car.
“How have you been?” Lucy says, now hugging El.
“We’ve been good. Colorado is treating us great.” El says with a laugh as she hugs her sister-in-law.
“GOOD!” Lucy says, enthusiastically turning her attention to the front door where a large, burly man with a Marine-close cut on his head and a clean-shaven face stands, his body ridged and his stare icy-cold. As he stares down at Abraham, Lucy and El, his icy-cold smile turns upside down to a glowingly warm smile.
“Son!” He says, extending his arms for a hug as he walks towards Abraham. Abraham embraces him with a strong hug.
“Dad, long time no see.” Abraham says as he embraces his father for the first time in years. “How’s the business?”
“Oh, you’ve always talked of it as though it is work, son!” His father starts as he detaches himself from Abraham and hugs El, then starts leading the three up the stairs. “This is a life’s work, a passion—an art-form, son. And your boy is very interested.”
“Father,” Abraham stops dead in his tracks, his body turning suddenly ridged.
“Oh don’t be so damned worried,” his father says with a laugh. “We haven’t told him a thing. He’s read some journals, but he’s been taught that they are fiction. You Americans are so…lacking of faith.” Abraham leads the three into the mansion, Abraham’s eyes darting around the massive house, towards the bookcases where he learned to read, the tables where he learned his manners, and the stairs he must’ve fallen down a million times trying to learn how to fly. What a crazy kid he was.
The three walk through the large dining room into the kitchen, where a younger man stands waiting. The man, standing a little taller than Abraham, in a black hoodie halfway zipped, a dark, straight pants with black converse on, his hair gelled up and slicked-back at the same time.
“Abraham, I believe you two have met,” his dad starts, motioning at the man in hoodie. “But in case you haven’t, this is Stefan Salvatore, Lucy’s fiancé.” Stefan turns to the family and smiles, extending his hand to shake Abraham’s.
“It’s nice to see you again.” He says, Abraham shaking his hand and noticing the thick, dark-silver ring with a blue sapphire on it adorning Stefan’s hand. Why does this ring look so familiar?
*
Now, New York City
“What kind of weird magic is this, John?” Abraham asks, his eyes fixated on John Constantine’s hands rotating around the golden ring. Johns eyes are closed with his cigarette planted firmly in his mouth, his blond hair gelled and spiked—unmoving.
“It’s a kind of magic called Earth Magic, it derives from Bialya. Only a handful of sorcerers and witches practice it.” Constantine says through his cigarette, smoke puffing from his mouth with every word. Abraham looks around as a strange buzzing sound circles the table.
“What is that?”
“Just be quiet a second, will ya?” Constantine says as a strange wind starts swirling the table, replacing the strange buzzing sound. “I’m starting to get a picture. It’s…a tall, maybe six foot, broad man. White. Long brown hair. He’s…” Constantine tails off as his eyes pop open and he stares at Abraham. “He’s you.” Abraham lifts and eyebrow as Constantine pulls his cigarette from his mouth and exhales all the smoke that’s been building up.
“What do you mean it’s me?” Abraham asks, staring down at the ring. Constantine takes another puff of the cigarette and blows it up at the ceiling fun above them so that it can disperse it out.
“I mean, I tracked the ring back to its last owner and—“
“I’m its last owner. Can you track it further?”
“It’s a complex, dark magic ring,” Constantine starts, taking another puff of his cigarette and a sip of his Johnnie Walker Blue. “But yeah, I’m probably up for the task.” Constantine reaches for his pocket and pulls out a small pocket knife, flipping it open and handing it to Abraham. “I just need human sacrifice for the spell.” Abraham looks at the knife and grabs it, staring at the serrated edge.
“Like…taking my own life?” Abraham asks, staring at Constantine as he takes yet another puff of the cigarette and then puts it out on the wooden table. Abraham, not waiting for Constantine’s answer holds the knife to his throat. “This is for you, El.”
“WOAH!” Constantine yells, drawing the attention of the two Ukrainian men in the corner as Constantine pulls the knife from Abraham’s hand and slams it on the table. “Not taking your own life, you daft buffoon.” Constantine grabs the knife. “Put out your bloody hand,” Abraham reaches out his hand and Constantine marks a little slit in his palm, just enough to draw blood.
“Why would you fuck with me like that?”
“To be fair, you made wild assumptions, not me. You really need some help, don’t you?”
“Just track the fucking ring,” Abraham says, crossing his arms and staring angrily at Constantine. Constantine pulls another cigarette and his lighter from his pocket and takes a long drag from it before resting it in his mouth and reaching down for the ring. As soon as he touches it, he coils back.
“Shit,” Constantine says, his eyes wide and his cigarette dropping to the table.
“What is it?”
“This is some dark shit.”
“So can you track it, or not?”
“I think we might need to call in some backup.”
“Who is a better wizard than you?” Abraham asks, drawing a laugh from Constantine as he grabs his cigarette and takes another puff off it.
“There are no better wizards than me,” Constantine slams the rest of his Johnnie Walker. “But there is the man who taught me this spell.”
“And who is that?” Abraham asks, standing from the booth as Constantine slowly shimmies up too.
“Midnite.”
*
10 Years Ago
Abraham’s footsteps fall hard on the wooden floors, his heart beating erratically, his mind filled with nostalgia, contempt, fear, happiness, and family—everything that drives him. He stares out the large floor-to-ceiling glass panels that overlook the meadow where his kids play together. He remembers when he and Lucy would run around, waiting for his father to return with his latest tales of conquest.
“Brother,” a voice rings down the silent house, breaking the tranquility and quickly snapping Abraham back to his senses. Abraham looks over to see Stefan leaning out the doorway to his father’s study. Abraham raises and eyebrow—brother? Stefan motions for Abraham to follow him into the room and Abraham blindly follows suit as Stefan ducks back into the private study.
Abraham takes a deep breath and pushes open the door, revealing a room cut squarely from the eighteenth century—no lights save that from candle wicks burning, the flickering flames casting menacing shadows of all the figures in the room, rocking back and forth as though a child in a new mother’s arms; the mahogany desk perched on a purple Prussian carpet, golden tassels marking a shining light form the candles’ glare; two bookcases sit in one corner with every volume of the van Helsing family’s legacy, a small wooden table with different scotches and whiskeys sits in the other. Abraham’s father, Abraham senior, sits perched in his desk, his shoulders broad and his eyes squinted.
“Please, take a seat Abraham,” Senior says, motioning at the open chair next to Stefan. Abraham obliges, pulling his chair at and looking confused at the two men, clearly the only one in the room unaware of the peculiar circumstances.
“What’s going on, father?” Abraham asks, his breath growing short as his nerves grow long. Senior just stares at his son, holding back tears, his body trembling.
“Son, I have respected your choice of putting aside your family of birth to go off to America to raise your own family. It was a noble decision born of a desire to preserve your loved ones. I applaud it,” Senior says, reaching down and unlocking his bottom desk drawer. “But it is time that we all come to terms with where we are.” Senior sets a piece of paper on the table, uncolored, dusty and old, signed dozens of times.
“What is going on? I demand to know!” Abraham yells, slamming his fist on the desk.
“Brother, please calm yourself,” Stefan says, his eyes emotionless and unmoving.
“Do not call me brother!” Abraham spits venom and Stefan, his eyes narrowed, his mouth straight in anger, his body vibrating with rage.
“This is the deed to the manor, son,” Senior says, drawing the two men’s attention back in. “I’m dying.” Abraham’s anger suddenly simmers as he watches a tear drop from his father’s eye, the only tear he had ever seen his father shed.
“W-what’s happening?”
“I was diagnosed with cancer, son. The doctor’s give me less than a year to live.”
“I don’t understand what the deed is for,”
“The van Helsing family has stood for generations, thousands of years, fighting off the scourge of vampirism— “
“Just stop!” Abraham yells, cutting off his father. “You’re dying and you want to talk about vampires?!”
“You may have not chosen this path, Abraham, but some of us still believe in saving humanity,” Stefan interjects, his voice stony and cold.
“And where is it your place to even speak to me in a time like this?” Abraham asks.
“Ever since you’ve abandoned the family, I have been ten times the son as you,” Stefan says, his eyes staring into Abraham’s, countering the pure hatred with a silent resonance. Suddenly, Abraham’s fist crashes through Stefan’s jaw, dropping him to the floor, both of their chairs dropping backwards
“Will both of you stop being children?!” Senior yells, standing up himself and cringing from the pain. Stefan pushes himself up from the ground, whipping blood away from his nose and staring at Abraham.
“Carry on,” Stefan says, looking away from Abraham and at Senior.
“As I was saying, the van Helsing family has been around for thousands of years, passed from father to son. I made one son and have brought in another—the question is, who wants the family?”
“You would bestow the family onto someone with the name of Salvatore?” Abraham asks with disgust.
“Would it not be better than bestowing the family onto someone who is ashamed to carry the name of van Helsing?” Stefan says with cold indifference.
“You two both leave, now—and decide who is man enough to take this responsibility.” Senior says, putting the paper back in his desk and locking the drawer. Senior walks out of the room, but quickly turns to look at the two: “If you two continue to disgrace my family like you did in this office, neither of you will take the deed.”
*
Now, London
Rain patters down from the night sky, smashing against the long, winding driveway as Integra pulls up to the Helsing Manor, pulling Alucard’s limp body from the passenger side. “Come on, Alucard, you’ve got to get into the house,” Integra says, shouting so he can hear her over the rainfall. Alucard, draped in his bloody-red overcoat, his wide-brim hat still sitting ever so perfectly on his long, black flowing hair as his eyes flutter.
“Integra, he’s coming,” Alucard mutters, his body weak and his voice faint. She slings his arm around her shoulders and limps slowly towards the manor.
“Walter! Pip! HELP!” She shouts over the rain, unsure if anyone can hear her from inside. As the two figures slowly cross the lawn up to the stairs of the manor, Integra holds her wrist to Alucard’s mouth. “Drink again, regain your strength.” Alucard obliges, sinking his teeth into her vein, pulling the rich, red blood into his system. His slow limps turn slightly faster as the two continue across the yard. Suddenly, the door slams open and Seras stands at the top.
“What can I do?” She shouts down, running towards the two.
“Grab his other arm,” Integra directs. Seras rushes up to the two, throwing Alucard’s arm over her shoulders, the three now quickly rushing to the house, bumbling up the stairs and crossing the threshold into the home. Integra crumples to the floor, her body weak from pulling Alucard into the house. Alucard stands slowly, his eyes filled with anger.
“Where is Walter?” Alucard asks, his voice still faint from exhaustion.
“Downstairs,” Seras says, pointing at the stairs. Alucard brushes past the two girls, his body hurdling down the stairs. Seras looks at Integra, her eyes full of the fear of the night. “I’m sorry he saved me first,” she says. Integra pushes herself from the floor and brushes herself off from the dirt and the rain.
“Thanks for helping us into the house,” Integra says without looking at Seras, walking past her into the kitchen.
Alucard throws open the door to the wine cellar and quickly crosses through the maze of thousands of wines from around the world to the large cooler in the back of the room. He opens the lid to the cooler, looking down at the hundreds of blood bags sitting on ice. He pulls one out, ripping into it, sucking the blood quickly. His once trembling knees stop shuttering. His once frantically beating heart slows down. His once racing mind comes to a complete, controlled stop. Alucard tosses the empty bag on the ground and stands still in the silent basement. “He’s coming,”
“I know,” Alucard quickly turns to see Walter staring at Alucard, fresh blood dripping from his mouth. Alucard stares into the old man, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. Alucard quickly whips the blood from his mouth and clears his throat.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know what you are…I’ve just never watched it before,” Walter says, clearing his own throat and motioning for Alucard to follow him. “Is it to my understanding that we are being targeted by Incognito?”
“Do you know Incognito?” Alucard asks the two exit the cellar and slowly walk up the stairs.
“I’ve only heard legends. He’s the sorcerer vampire—tapping into a lost form of magic called Self Magic, fueled by one’s own blood.”
“Well that certainly explains a lot. What do you know about the originals?”
“Only that there are four, and they are ruthless and powerful. I’m hoping you have a plan for this specific one?” The two walk into the living room, stopping dead in their tracks as they stare out the still open door. At the edge of the lawn, through the darkness and the downpour, a bloody-red smile pierces through the night.
*
10 Years Ago
Rain patters hard against the window as a strike of thunder booms through the night. Abraham slowly opens his eyes, reaching across the bed for Elizabeth, only to find empty covers. “El?” He mutters, his breath hot in the cold night air. He pushes himself up, looking around the room, finding the door sitting just ajar. “El?” He mutters again. He stands up and pulls on a pair of elastic shorts, crossing the room to the door. He pokes his head out and looks both ways, not seeing anything. “El?” He calls out this time, no answer coming from anywhere. As he slowly steps out of the room, a cold chill hits his body.
He gradually makes his way down the hall, knocking on the bathroom door, looking in every open room, his heart pounding. Where is El? He keeps thinking to himself. He comes to the end of his hall where Lawrence and Integra are sharing a room. Surely, seeing those two will set his mind at ease. As he slowly cracks the door open he sees two lumps lying soundly in their beds. A warm smile crosses his lips as he sees the two sleeping. It can’t hurt to kiss them goodnight, can it?
Abraham eases into the room, trying not to wake them up. As he slowly crosses over to Lawrence’s bed, he kneels down and lays a soft kiss on his son’s head, only to be greeted by the soft embrace of a pillow. Abraham, perplexed, pulls the blanket from his son to find an empty bed and three pillows stuffed to look like a person. Now angered, Abraham crosses to find the same of Integra’s bed. Where have they gone? As fear and anger quickly overtake Abraham’s body he remembers—El’s favorite part of living here was midnight dips in the lake. She must’ve known he’d get made, so she snuck out and took the kids with her.
Abraham eases out of the room again, being quiet for no real reason, when he hears a thud from downstairs. What could it be? Abraham quickly turns the corner of the hallway and begins walking towards the stairs when he realizes the blood splattered against the wall just in front of the stairs. Abraham stops, his body suddenly rigged, his eyes filling with terror. What has happened here? Abraham backtracks to his room where he looks for his pistol but finds nothing. What happened to it? Did El take it? Unable to find his pistol, he grabs his blade, unsheathing it and making his way back to the stairs, steeling his body for what he could encounter. He turns the corner of the stairs and sees his sister Lucy’s body lying motionless on the floor, her head turned backwards like an owl’s, her eyes afraid and staring into Abraham’s. Holding back a spray of vomit, Abraham rushes down the stairs. He hears another thump. The intruder is still in the house. As he passes his sister’s motionless body, tears spouting from his eyes, he sees the two small incisions in her neck. What has happened here?
Abraham rushes through the house to the kitchen, where he heard the thud, to see his father, impaled on a wooden stake, his eyes too afraid and motionless, his face white as a ghost and his body rigid. As Abraham walks through the bottom floor of the manor, he sees every van Helsing’s body lying motionless, drained of blood, gruesomely murdered, strewn across the house. As he walks by a coat closet, he hears a shaking sound. Readying himself for anything, he grips his blade tightly and flings open the door to see the smooth silver metal of his pistol pointing back at him, Integra’s small body shaking as she struggles to hold up the gun, tears pouring from her eyes. Abraham kneels down, lowering the gun, putting his finger to her lips to quiet her. A rotten smell comes from behind her. As he whips her tears away, he reaches around her and feels the soft, squishy blood and innards. He motions for her to move and she shakes her head. What is she hiding? He pushes her aside and his whole body drops as he stares into the severed head of his son, blood pooling on the ground as a bodiless head lies motionless, hauntingly afraid. Whatever monster did this, will pay. Abraham stands, looking at his frightened children, and closes the door. This is between him and the monster now, no one else. Where is El?
Abraham turns and gets his answer, his body trembling with anger, his mind in a singular rage. Staring back at him are two piercing white eyes set on the backdrop of a cold, rainy night. A smile permeates the monster’s face, blood dripping from his shining white teeth, his eyes red like the blood of his victims. Abraham takes in the sight, every last detail, down to the golden ring on the monster’s finger, emblazoned with a six-sided star. The darkness overpowers the finer details of the monster’s face, all Abraham can see is the blood dripping from his teeth, the whites of his eyes, and the moonlight reflecting from the golden ring—and his wife’s lifeless body dangling from the monster’s hands, her eyes filled with the same terror as Lawrence’s, her body limp as he drops her to the floor. Abraham screams with rage and rushes the monster, but the monster is too fast and Abraham is out of practice. Is this how he dies? Is this how his family dies? As he turns attempt another strike, the monster as disappeared. Abraham frantically looks for him, finally turning to stare out the door where the monster stands out in the lawn, the smile never disappearing from his face. With a wave of his hand, the monster disappears in a blur.
Abraham drops his blade and drops to his knees, holding his wife’s lifeless body in his hands, the warm blood covering every inch of his clothes. His tears fall softly on El’s body.
CON
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Post by worldking on Jul 23, 2017 17:22:56 GMT
Chapter 5: Dark Memories, Part 4 (Conclusion)
1 Year Ago
“What are you doing?” Alucard asks, his voice smooth as he swiftly shuts the door to Abraham’s study. Their eyes lock in an intense fire, Abraham still fuming from his encounter with Integra.
“What do you mean ‘what am I doing’?” Abraham shouts, slamming his fist on his desk, his blood boiling with anger.
“She’s your daughter and you are treating her like gum on the bottom of your shoe. She’s trying to love you, but you aren’t trying to love her back,” Alucard’s icy stare pierces Abraham’s feeble body, his whole self still shaking with anger.
“And who the fuck do you think you are telling me how to raise my family?”
“You can’t treat her like this. It isn’t healthy for either of y—“
“I’ll ask again—who the fuck do you think you are telling me how to RAISE MY FAMILY?!” Abraham shouts smaking the lamp off his desk against the wall, turning away from Alucard and staring out the window into the darkness. He feels the cold embrace of Alucard’s hand on his shoulder.
“Who do I think I am?” Alucard starts, his breath hot on the back of Abraham’s neck. “I think I am a man who has lived a thousand lives; a man who has taken a thousand lovers, and a thousand wives; a man who has built empires and conquered kingdoms; a man who has slain his kind and fed on the blood of the richest men in history,” Alucard continues, gripping Abraham’s shoulder tightly. “But I am not a man who has been lucky enough to bear a child. I am not a man lucky enough to raise a warrior. I am not a man lucky enough to live through the slaughter of everyone I know and love, and vow to make the world a better place. That is who you are.”
An icy chill swirls through the room as Alucard releases Abraham’s shoulder, crossing over to the scotch to calm his nerves. Abraham stares off into the dark distance, his eyes wide and his body shivering and shaking, with fear and with rage. He turns to see Alucard leaned up against the wall, his body calm, his lips sipping at a small glass of scotch.
“Do you know why liquor exists?” Alucard asks, his eyes still locked ferociously with Abraham’s. Abraham just shrugs, not knowing the answer. “This is just a legend, but it says that vampires made liquor because it calms our urge to feed. Vampires were in a frenzy, feeding for sport, for when we were happy, for when we were sad, for when we were angry. Too many bodies were piling up, so we made liquor, because it calms our nerves.”
“Is that so?”
“Not a damn clue,” Alucard says with a shrug, sipping at his scotch. “But it sure does calm the need to feed.” Abraham just laughs and walks over to pour himself a glass of scotch and leans up against the wall next to Alucard.
“How bad have I fucked up?”
“Pretty bad, Abs, pretty bad. What are you gonna do to fix it?”
“I don’t know what I can do? Seras needs my help, I brought her in under my wing, I can’t just ignore her.”
“So let me get this straight—you can’t ignore Seras, but you can ignore Integra?” Alucard says, drawing a perplexed look from Abraham.
“I’m not ignoring Integra.”
“You’re ignoring her and you’re replacing her, Abraham. There’s no other way to look at it,” Alucard crosses the room, setting his glass down and grabbing Abraham’s journal.
“That isn’t yours, Alucard. We have boundaries,” Abraham quickly crosses the room, snatching the journal from Alucard’s hands.
“Do you know what started all of this, Abraham?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did Integra run across the house in a fury to beat up Seras?”
“Because she’s jealous of Seras excelling more than her,” Abraham says, eliciting a riotous laugh from Alucard who has to steady himself on Abraham’s desk to stop himself from falling over. “What?!” Alucard looks up at Abraham, whipping a fake tears from his eyes.
“You’re an idiot, Abraham,”
“Excuse me?”
“Look at Seras. Look at Integra. Look at their tragic lives. It’s like looking in a mirror.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abraham says, slamming his scotch on his desk. Alucard grabs his glass of scotch and crosses the room to the door, opening it slightly.
“Read your own journal Abraham. If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose them both,” with that, Alucard disappears into the hallway, the door shutting softly behind him. Abraham stares at his journal and his scotch, a small tear dropping down on the already cracked journal cover.
*
Now, New York City
The smoke wisps around the bar in silver strands, being blown away by the ceiling fans and vents. Abraham is forced to squint through the haze of purple lights flashing, bright flashes from cameras, the smoke and the screams in the dark, crowded bar. Bodies bump against each other of every shape and kind—Jersey Devils, bug demons, fallen angels, blue devils—everything from end to end.
“Different crowd than you’re used to?” Constantine asks, looking over at Abraham’s crazed expression. A slight grin crosses Constantine’s face as he lets out a snicker.
“That’s one way to put it,” Abraham replies. The two cross over to the small bar in the corner where a skinny red man stands, his eyes a burning amber, his hair a long, silver river dripping down his body.
“What’ll ya be havin’ today, Johnny?” The bartender asks, his eerie smile growing larger.
“Shot’a Grey Goose please,” Constantine says, taking a seat at the bar. He looks over at Abraham, still bewildered by the strange night-life living right underneath Brooklyn. The two share a quick glance and Constantine smiles. “Make it two, my buddy needs to cut loose.” The bartender nods with a smile and reaches to grab the bottle of Grey Goose off the top shelf.
“What are we doing here, Constantine?” Abraham asks, taking his seat at the bar next to Constantine.
“We talked about this, Abraham—we’re here to see Papa Midnite.” Constantine grabs the shot glass that the bartender set down next to him, the glass itself ice cold to bring out the full flavor of the Grey Goose.
“I got that,” Abraham starts, as he and Constantine both slam back their shots, Constantine motioning to the bartender for two more. “But what the hell does this crazy place, and doing shots of vodka, have to do with Papa Midnite?”
“Well, for starters, Midnite owns this nightclub. It’s his base of operations. He has a whole spiel about it,” Constantine slams back his second shots of Grey Goose, staring at Abraham, waiting for him to follow suit. “But the vodka is because I have a very expensive taste in liquor and, because I’m on the clock right now, you’re paying, so I would like to take advantage of that.” Abraham lets out a sigh and slams back his second shot, pulling out a twenty and lying it on the bar. The bartender stares at Abraham, his amber eyes glowing red.
“What is that stare for?” Abraham asks, mostly directing his question at Constantine.
“Really?” Constantine says with a raised brow. “Tip the man, asshole.” Abraham lets out another heavy sigh and pulls out another five, watching the bartender’s expression immediately turn.
“When do we get to meet with Midnite?”
“Well, considering we are not on the best of terms, I’m hoping sometime today. He’s kind of a tough bugger to get a hold of.”
“You mean to tell me that we might not even get to see him?”
“It would probably help if you’d pony up and bribe the bartender,” Constantine says, soliciting a strange look from Abraham. Abraham turns to look at the bartender, the smile slapped across his face looking rather expecting.
“Would it help if I gave you another twenty?” Abraham asks, the bartender just slowly shaking his head. Abraham turns his attention back to Constantine. “See? No bribing will work.”
“Not if you bribe like a three-year-old.” Abraham stares down into his wallet and pulls out a hundred-dollar bill, sliding it to the bar tender who quickly pockets it and disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh, what the hell was that?” Abraham yells.
“Calm down, he’s probably going to get Midnite.” Constantine says, his smile growing but lazy, the Grey Goose clearly starting to settle in. Abraham stairs out at the dancing bodies gyrating across the floor and, from a distance, the bartender emerges from a black door hidden in the wall. Constantine stands. “That’s us, buddy.” The bartender points at the two, motioning for them to come.
Abraham follows Constantine through the door and suddenly the smoke and the flashing lights and the pounding music all wash away in a tranquility of smooth jazz. Abraham takes in the completely contrasting sight as he slowly wades into the grey/white room, a couch at one end, a glass coffee table in front of it, and two grey chairs on the other side. On the catch sits a man, his all-white suit starkly contrasting with his black skin, his white fedora set to an angle, black sunglass covering his eyes, a wry smile posted on his lips, and a bottle of patron in his hand, his arms draped over the back of the couch and his left leg crossed on his right.
“Fellas!” He yells, his booming voice incasing the whole room. “Long-time-no-see Johnny Boy!” The man sets the bottle on the glass coffee table and stands, drunkenly moseying his way over and giving Constantine a big hug. As the two escape their embrace, the man continues: “I’m sorry, you go by Hellblazer, right? Some fuckin’ super hero name? Whatever! How you doin’ boss?” The man asks, motioning for the two to take a seat. Just before he plops back down on the couch, he turns, his toothy grin aimed at Abraham. “Who are you?”
“Abraham van Helsing.” Abraham says, a bit taken aback. The man juts his hand out, waiting for Abraham to shake it.
“Papa Midnite. You can call me Papa.” The three take a seat and Papa Midnite takes a drink from his bottle. “What can I do ya for today, Johnny?”
“We need help performing a tracking spell,” Constantine reaches into his pocket and pulls out the golden ring, setting it on the table in front of Papa Midnite. Papa Midnite bursts out in uncontrollable laughter, setting his bottle on the table and fighting for breath.
“Johnny, how far have you fallen that you can’t even perform a tracking spell?”
“It isn’t like that. This ring belongs to a powerful vampire,” suddenly Midnite’s laughter washes away and his toothy grin disappears as he pulls his sunglasses from his eyes.
“Boy, what kind of dark magic did you bring into my house?”
“It’s mine, Papa,” Abraham starts, sensing some sort of tension between Midnite and Constantine.
“Excuse me?” Midnite asks, turning his blazing glare at to Abraham.
“The ring belongs to—“
“I don’t believe I gave you damn permission to talk,” Midnite reaches for his bottle of Patron.
“I do not need your permission, I am Abraham van Helsing!” Abraham shouts, pushing himself up from his seat.
“Sit the fuck down,” Midnite says before taking a swig of his tequila, moving his hand in a downward motion. Abraham falls back into his chair, as though a hand had pushed him. “I think you misunderstand your place in all of this, Mister van Helsing. You are in my house, I make the rules,” he turns his glare back to Constantine. “Explain the ring, Johnny boy.”
“A vampire killed Abraham’s wife, and the vampire wore this ring. We need to track it to find the vampire.”
“Okay, so Johnny, I’ll give you a pass. You’ve got a busy life, what with letting all of your loved ones down and what-all, but you,” Midnite points his drunken hand at Abraham. “Your entire life, your entire upbringing, your entire purpose on this Earth revolves around vampires and hunting them and killing them, and you don’t know about the six-sided star rings?”
“Rings?” Abraham asks.
“Your father would be embarrassed had he not been brutally murdered.”
“What do you mean the six-sided star rings?”
“The original vampires. The African Wizard, the Lonely Wolf, the Peasant Boy, and Count Dracula. They all wear a ring just like this one. It was gifted to them by the original vampire. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS?!” Midnite shouts, throwing his empty bottle against the wall. “He could be tracking this right now. You could be leading him right to my safe haven!”
“Papa, listen, we’re real sorry but—“ Constantine starts before being cut off.
“Just stop. What’s done is done. I’ll track it, but it’ll cost you.”
“Whatever money you want, I can pay,” Abraham says, garnering a snarl from Midnite.
“Again, with the talking. I don’t like you. I don’t want money, I just want Johnny,” Midnite turns back, his cold eyes staring at Constantine, “to owe me one.” Abraham and Constantine share a look, and Constantine nods.
“Yeah, fine, just track the ring,” Constantine says, and Papa Midnite’s smile grows brighter than the sun.
*
Now, London
“What do you want me to do, Alucard?” Walter asks, his body rigid as the two men stare out the front door at the blood-red grin looking back at them. Alucard grabs the hilt of his sword, preparing for a battle.
“Get as much vervain as you can. It’s his weakness. I’ll hold him off while you deal with that,” Alucard slowly marches towards the front door, his eyes a glowing red, his body stiff, his hair flowing behind him, carried by the wind. He steps up to the threshold of the house and stops, preparing himself. He looks out at the red smile being drowned in the rain, the tree branches whipping in the wind, Incognito’s two black eyes full of revenge.
“Alucard, be careful,” Integra says from behind him. He doesn’t have to turn to see the fear in her eyes, he can hear it in her trembling voice.
“Just remember, nothing I shoot ever gets back up,” Alucard slowly steps past the vail of the house, his eyes locked with Incognito. Incognito’s smile grows larger as Alucard steps into the battlefield, and Incognito disappears in a blur.
“Look who has come out to play!” Incognito yells, his body hidden in the darkness but his voice carried in the wind.
“Show yourself, you monster!” Alucard shouts, his words swirling up in an eruption of noise. Alucard quickly draws his blade and blocks the strike of a heavy metal bar, Incognito on the other end. Incognito stands locked in the clash for a moment; his suit torn to shreds, his left arm still missing at the warehouse, blood covering almost every inch, from his smile to his toes. He quickly strikes again with the metal bar, trying to catch Alucard off guard, but Alucard counters, parrying the shot and delivering a swift kick to knock Incognito backwards. Incognito lets out a grunt and then disappears in the wind. Alucard turns to look back into the house where Integra and Seras chug a shot of pure vervain to shield themselves from Incognito. Alucard lets a small grin slip onto his face. Bending his knees, Alucard pushes off from the porch of the house, flinging himself into the yard.
“Let’s finish this!” Alucard yells, holding his blade at his side, standing like a statue in the lawn. He closes his eyes and breaths in deeply, listening for even the slightest sound. He hears as the wind ripples the grass behind him, and he hears as a silent footstep crushes the grass below. Alucard quickly turns, striking at Incognito behind him, ripping a gash in Incognito’s stomach. Incognito quickly rounds Alucard, smashing his metal rod into Alucard’s spin, knocking him over. Alucard quickly jumps up, his eyes set on Incognito as he whips around Alucard, his red teeth born and ready to bite.
“Why do you do this, Alucard?” Incognito says with a laugh, striking out at Alucard again, this time slicing deep into his left shoulder. “Why do you side with the pathetic humans?” Incognito strikes again, this blowing Alucard’s knee out from under him, dropping him to a kneeling position. Alucard closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hears every near-silent footstep as Incognito circles him in a blur, with a speed only a vampire could hold. He listens as the pattern of Incognito’s footsteps hold true—two steps with his outer foot, one with his inner, creating a sort of dance in a ring around Alucard. A grin crosses Alucard’s face.
“I do it for a reason you will never understand, monster,” Alucard’s eyes flip open, glowing a hot red. He juts his blade out into Incognito’s path in between the first two steps, forcing his foe to jump the sword. Alucard quickly stands and delivers a powerful roundhouse kick to the monster, sending Incognito flying backwards to the house. As Alucard stares down his soon-to-be victim, his grin slips away as Integra stands, unarmed, on the porch of the house, past the threshold. “Integra, NO!”
But it’s too late. Incognito pounces on Integra, holding her throat in his one hand, his smile as bright as the moon.
“We were always supposed to stick together, Alucard!” Incognito yells, his voice howling above the wind and the rain.
“No, we weren’t! You made up a story in your head and hoped that I would live by your words!”
“It isn’t a story, Alucard! We are the originals, we were destined to stand together and reunite Cain!”
“Let her go, this is between us!” Alucard screams, slowly stepping towards them, his red eyes locked on Incognito, his mouth tilted up in a snarl.
“Why do you protect them? Why do you fight by their side?”
“LET THEM GO!” Alucard says as he readies himself to attack.
“Drop the blade.”
“What?”
“Drop the blade and drink my blood, and then I will let her go,” Incognito says with a snicker. Alucard’s burning red eyes lock with Integra’s, and he watches as she gives the slightest of nods. Alucard removes himself from his attack stance and drops his blade on the ground. Incognito lets out a terrible, night-crackling laugh. “Now come her and drink from my wounds.”
Alucard slowly begins to walk towards the house. He listens as the thunder rolls from the sky. His eyes wonder slowly, without turning his head, he sees Walter poised in the woods across the way, a sniper in his hands trained at Incognito. He looks past Incognito, oblivious, and sees Seras standing behind him with a loaded gun. He looks at Integra and sees a steak firmly grasped in her hand. He smiles.
“What are you smiling about?” Incognito shouts.
“You’ll see,” Alucard says, just as the sharp crack of Walter’s rifle knocks Incognito the ground, lodging a bullet in his head, Integra falls forward, out of Incognito’s grasp. As Incognito tries to stand, he is met with two bullets in the chest from Seras’s gun, and he lets out a blood-curdling wale.
“What is this?!” He screams, trying to dig the bullets from his chest. He looks up and is met with a wild grin by Integra.
“It’s vervain,” she says, raising the wooden, vervain-soaked stake high above her head, quickly plunging it down into Incognito’s heart. Incognito lets out another scream, but it is mixed with laughter.
“You are a fool, Alucard!” Incognito screams as he lays motionless on the porch. “I’m an original, a vervain-soaked stake only really, really hurts! It can’t kill me!” Alucard finally reaches the, his glowing red eyes staring down at Incognito, whose smile grows wider with the second. Alucard reaches behind him and pulls a large pistol from a hidden holster. The pistol has a long barrel, about twelve inches long, engraved with red symbols, one of the them a six-sided star just above the trigger.
“This can,” Alucard says, smiling wildly as he stares down as the suddenly frightened look on Incognito’s face.
“I…what is it? What is it that I won’t understand? Why do you do this?”
“Family,” Alucard’s finger squeezes the trigger and a blinding red light erupts, followed by a shattering howl that shakes the manor to its foundation. A small silver bullets blows from the chamber, coated in a ferocious red light, lodging itself into Incognito’s heart, splitting the stake that was once there in half. Incognito’s body shakes and the subtle light disappears from his eyes as his body goes limp, lying motionless on the porch.
*
The rain has stopped. The night has passed. The wind has calmed.
The sunlight seeps through the windows ever so carelessly, searching for the darkest corners to illuminate. The large, plush couch sits alone in the middle of the foyer, Pip sitting atop it. His eyes staring off into the distance, his body stone cold.
“What the hell happened?” He asks, his words all but lost in the deafening silence of the situation. Alucard stands just behind the couch, sitting at a glass of Caribbean rum, his body clad in tight-fit black dress clothes, his hair calm, long, and straight. Integra stands by his side, her eyes filled with the running memories of the night before. Seras stands roughly ten feet away, on the north end of the foyer, leaned up against the wall shared with the kitchen, staring at what everyone is staring at—the dead body of Incognito, his lifeless black eyes staring up at the ceiling, a red chasm sitting in his chest from Alucard’s bullet.
“Look like this guy messed with the wrong family,” Walter says, his voice echoing through the large room. They all return to silence, the only sounds that of the birds chirping outside, and Alucard sipping at his glass.
“Funny, for a guy with one arm, he sure gave you a lot of problems, Alucard,” Pip jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, when you’re one of the most powerful vampires on Earth, you tend to have a tough quality about you,” Alucard jokes back, walking around to sit on the couch next to Pip.
“Alucard,” Seras starts, getting Alucard to direct his attention towards her. “What did he mean that you guys are the originals?” Alucard takes a deep breath in, sipping at his rum.
“I met Incognito a few years back. He found a bunch of desperate vampires and had them convinced of a destiny to raise a mythical vampire, a vampire stronger than all vampires.”
“And it wasn’t true?”
“Doesn’t seem like it, no,” Alucard shrugs, standing up and walking towards the stairs. “I guess we’ll never really know.”
Just then the door bursts open, Abraham flying through the opening, his brown hat falling from his head. He stands there at the threshold for only a moment, a look of pure terror strewn across his face, his body trembling with fear. As his eyes scan the room, his body calms, and the look of terror is replaced with a broad smile, and a slight laugh. A solitary tear drops from his eyes. He rushes across the room, and immediately embraces Seras.
“Thank the Heavens that you’re alive!” He yells, hugging her tightly. She hugs him back, embracing him with warmth. Alucard turns from his pursuit of his room, and looks at Integra, her face flooded with rage, turning a bright vermillion. Without any words, she storms off outside, slamming the door behind her. Alucard lets out a heavy sigh.
Abraham leaves his embrace of Seras and turns to Alucard, raising an eyebrow. Alucard looks at Abraham, shaking his head and setting his glass down on the counter. Abraham reaches to place a hand on Alucard’s shoulder, but Alucard too quickly walks away from him, out the front door.
Alucard is embraced by the blazing sun, his eyes searching the lawn for Integra. Where could she have gone? Not seeing her in the front, he rounds the house, searching for where she would go in her time of need. Finally, after searching around the house, with one sound leap, he launches himself onto the roof, where he sees Integra, grabbing her knees, tears falling rapidly. He walks over to her and puts a hand on her shoulder.
“What the hell do you want?” Integra sobs, her words barely able to penetrate her tears.
“Talk to me,” Alucard says, taking a seat next to her, turning his attention towards the distant view, the rising towers of London.
“About what?”
“Well, for starters, how did you even get up here?”
“You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine,” Integra scoots just slightly away from Alucard. Alucard lets out a little laugh.
“You’re stubborn, you know?” Alucard says, turning his attention back towards Integra. Integra gives him an angry stare and declines to respond. “I’m sorry for that.” Alucard says, looking back at the rising towers of London.
“It isn’t your fault.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because it’s you, Integra,” Alucard says, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’ve always looked out for you, and that doesn’t stop today.”
“You don’t have to look after me.”
“Then who’s going to, Pip?” Alucard says, and the two share a little laugh.
“Why did Incognito come after us?”
“You’re a van Helsing. You’re kinda famous amongst my people.”
“Your people?”
“Vampires.”
“Are you sure you’re a vampire?” Integra asks, looking up at Alucard and whipping the tears from her eyes.
“I’m…not quite sure what you mean?” Alucard asks. Integra motions towards the distant, hanging sun.
“The sun is out. You’re sitting up on the roof of the van Helsing manor. You’re alive in the sunlight, are you sure you’re a vampire?”
“Not all vampires are created equal.”
“Because you’re an original, right?”
“I wish. Every time I’ve heard stories of the originals, they seem all but immortal.”
“Aren’t you?”
“What would give you that idea?”
“Nothing can kill you,” Integra says in a matter-of-fact voice. Alucard shrugs.
“Well, looks like you’re just as alive as I am, so maybe you’re the immortal.” Alucard says, causing Integra to look away.
“I don’t feel alive,” she mutters under her breath.
“It’ll get better. He’ll come around.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know him fairly well, it’ll all work out.”
“I want to feel better about myself now, not in the future.”
“What would make you feel better?” Alucard asks, taking his hand from her shoulder. Integra looks back at Alucard, her smile growing faintly. She grabs Alucard’s hand and the sun reflects a small twinkle in her eyes.
“Alucard,” she starts, but Alucard rips his hand away from her, quickly standing up.
“Integra…”
“What? You want to know what’ll make me happy?” Integra asks, pushing herself up too. “The same thing that has always gone out of his way to make me happy—you!”
“That…isn’t an option, Integra.”
“Why not?”
“It just isn’t,” Alucard says, turning away from her and walking to the edge of the large. “I’ll see you at supper.” He says as he jumps from the roof, landing squarely on the ground and walking back inside. Tears slowly begin to fall from Integra’s eyes as she hugs herself in the warmth of the sun’s glow.
*
8 Years Ago
The rain drops slowly on Abraham as he trudges through the moonlit forest, his eyes never resting as he searches between the trees, looking for his prey. The wind blows back his long hair and the mud kicks up onto his boots. He grasps his sword tightly, staring out into the whispering darkness.
He hears a laugh in the distance. Is that him? Abraham slowly crawls forward, his eyes focused on where the laugh came from, his body tight and his knuckles white. A strong wind blows past Abraham, carrying with it the scent of his enemy. He’s here, the strong scent of blood curling its way into Abraham’s body. How many victims? How many people has this man killed?
Abraham pushes past the brush and sits still, staring out into a clearing. The first thing he sees are the bodies—five by his count, all lifeless, lying on the ground, their eyes as dead as the rest of them. Then he sees the vampire, short and thin, her legs bare and her long blonde hair shifting in the wind, holding a man in her hands as she drains the blood from him.
“Monster!” Abraham yells, charging at the vixen. She turns, her mouth turning up into a snarl, deftly dodging a swing of Abraham’s blade, dropping her victim lifeless to the ground. The two stand just feet apart, locked in an intense stare.
“How did you find me?”
“I followed the scent of blood,” Abraham says, plotting his next move. Should he go straight in with a jab, try to impale her, or go for the swipe and rip open her stomach? He knows one thing—start by taking her off guard. “You know, I thought you’d be a man.”
“Sexist pig,” she says, charging at him. He quickly dodges her strike and slashes at her heel, snapping one Achilles tendon into two. She tumbles to the ground but stands back up, her eyes locked on Abraham as she whips blood from her mouth. She charges again, and this time slashes Abraham’s chest, knocking him backwards. Not letting up, she strikes a ferocious punch into his chest, knocking the wind from him. He throws his feet into her face, rabbit kicking her and using the momentum to backflip back to his feet. Where is his sword?
He doesn’t have time to find it as she quickly responds, grabbing his arm and flipping him in a circle, throwing him hard against an oak tree in the distance. Abraham can feel his left shoulder dislocate, but he can’t give up now. If he gives up now, the monster gets another victim.
The monster rushes him again, her teeth bourn and ready to bite. Abraham, using his good arm, pulls a small file from coat pocket and tosses it at the monster, where it explodes in her face, covering her in a green gas where she drops to the ground writhing in pain. Abraham takes a deep breath and jams his shoulder back into his socket, never letting his eyesight drift from the monster for even a moment. As she slowly pulls herself off the ground, she looks at Abraham and hisses. Why is she so strong? She stands up tall, staring down at Abraham, practically fuming from the nose.
“I’m done playing games,” she reaches behind her and pulls out a small revolver from a pouch hidden on her back, pointing it squarely at Abraham. With a grin cresting across her face, Abraham can see that this might be the end. The monster’s eyes grow wide as her hand goes limp, dropping the gun to the ground. Blood drips in heavy stream to the ground as she falls forward, paralyzed, barely able to move. Standing behind her is a tall man, clad in a red coat, a red wide-brimmed hat adorning his head, his long, slick, shinning black hair billowing in the brisk night air, holding loosely his long, silver blade.
“You know what the stupid part about killing people in the forest is, love?” The man asks with a laugh, sheathing his blade and walking over to a tree next to Abraham. Abraham and the man lock eyes, and the man gives him a little wink and a smile, and that’s when Abraham sees it—the elongated fang, sharp and powerful, jutting from his teeth. Another monster? The man grabs a loose branch and yanks it from the tree, inspecting it to make sure that it is sharp enough, he crosses back to the woman, kneeling over her. “There’s would around for miles.” The man raises the wood high and strikes it down, piercing it through the woman’s heart. As she lets out a ghastly scream, Abraham looks deep into her eyes as he sees the flicker of life disappear.
Abraham reaches into his pocket, grabbing the last small vile of vervain. One last chance. Abraham wings it at the man, but the man’s reflexes are too good, and he catches it mid-air.
“Come on now, I just saved your life, least you could do is say thank you,” the man says, dropping the vile to the ground. As soon as the vile makes contact with the ground, it explodes, sending green gas everywhere. Abraham smiles as he just got the break he needed. Alucard waves away the green fumes, looking more confused at Abraham.
“H-how did that not hurt you? It’s vervain!” Abraham yells, scrambling to his feet, fighting through the immeasurable pain.
“So, you do know about vampires. Interesting,” the man appears suddenly inches away from Abraham’s face, staring deep into his eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Compulsion won’t work on me.”
“I’m not trying to compel you, I’m trying to learn your name. Have manners been lost in this new world?”
“F-fine. I’m Abraham. Abraham van Helsing,” the man’s eyes grow wide as he hears the name—van Helsing.
“You’re the survivor?”
“Yes! And I will hunt down that man who murdered my family!” Abraham tries to punch the man quickly, but his hand is deflected.
“Trust me, you aren’t going to win this fight,” the man says turning his back on Abraham and walking slowly away towards the body of the woman on the ground. “I’m a vampire hunter too.”
“Liar! I saw your teeth! You’re one of them!”
“Just because I’m one of them doesn’t mean I can’t hunt them,” the man reaches down, grabbing the revolver the woman was going to shoot Abraham with, and emptying the bullets on the ground. “You’ll need this,” the man says, tossing the gun to Abraham. Abraham fumbles the catch, but eventually settles the gun in his hands.
“Why are you giving me weapons?”
“Because you need all the help you can get,” the man says, locking eyes with Abraham again. “I’ve got places to be, Abes, but if you need help, find me.”
“And how will I find you, monster?”
“Name’s Alucard. You’ll find me if you want to.” With that, Alucard disappears into the darkness, leaving Abraham standing in the middle of the forest, his eyes staring down at the empty revolver, then looking up to see all of the bodies strewn across the clearing. The darkness only grows darker as the night drags on and the moon fades from view.
END
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