Van Helsing rose from his seat immediately, looking down at the young girl, who seemed to have passed out. "Jinx," Elizabeth said once or twice, kneeling next to the girl and tapping her cheek. "Jinx, get up!" Just then a horrible, blood-curdling howl crushed the air in around their ears. The few people and employees in the bar screamed and ran for cover, holding their hands over their ears as they went. Elizabeth looked back up at Van Helsing, the same thought in both their eyes (shadowed or hooded) as Jinx lay on the floor, dreaming of... whatever: the werewolves were back, and revenge for their slain family member was fresh in their blood.
Van Hesling sighed. "Of course," he said to Jinx, and then turned to Elizabeth, who hadn't touched a drink yet. "So, Miss Elizabeth," he began, no smile, "want to help me out by answering the same question: what do you know about vampires?"
"Hmm, I see," Van Helsing said, catching the expression in Elizabeth's eyes. "That's quite the Encyclopedia definition, isn't it? I'm impressed. Now, you asked about my 'line of work.' In addition to werewolves, I'm also out here in search for vampires. Do you know any, or have you heard anything about them lately? It would help me out greatly," he added, reaching for the wine bottle once more to find that it was empty. Now I really like her, he thought, grinning once more.
"What do you know about vampires?" Van Helsing asked. That's as direct as I can get,he thought. Let's see what she has to say since she seemed so keen on my disliking of the diseased group!
"You can't originally be from here," Van Helsing said now, refilling hers and his glass once more. Elizabeth gave him a slightly stern look, but he ignored her once more. "You ask so much about me, so I'd rather enjoy something about you by now." The family didn't even know what had happened... the words of the monk in Rome came randomly back to his head as he waited from Jinx's reply. The mother and father were bitten first... bit their twenty year old son in a rabid rampage, and he bit the ten year old girl. Ridiculous, but we have sufficient evidence that Draulca himself sent this werewolf to infect the family... kill them all before the whole town is turned to Dracula's side. He grimaced and then swallowed the fourth glass in two gulps now, waiting for some response (either an answer from Jinx or a snide remark from "Elizabeth").
"Like I said," Van Helsing said after a moment, giving Elizabeth a slight nod only. "It's evil... I kill it. How do I stay alive? Well, it's kind of hard to explain. How does an inexplicable amount of luck, prayer, weapons, and a few friends sound?" Realizing Elizabeth still stood there, he turned his head in her direction and offered her his half full third glass of rum. "Thirsty?" he asked.
Van Helsing actually grinned now. I like her, he thought, even though he knew she was starting to catch on to him. "What am I doing in these parts?" he repeated aloud. "What am I doing... well, I assumed you were aware of the family here that was recently turned by one werewolf into a whole pack? I man lying with my bullets in his heart was the oldest brother. There is still a mother, father, and little girl to be killed before the rest of you turn into murdering, cold blooded beasts as well. And as for the vampire-related subject," he added quickly as he saw her start to speak again, "I don't reallyhate them all; I merely don't prefer them because of... ages of fighting and grudges. Let's just say I have killed enough make the whole "race" loathe me. If a vampire walked in here right now, there's a perfect chance I've killed someone they know!"
"Well, then, she seems pretty interesting. Maybe she will join us in a while... didn't seem like the type who had much to do." The bar mistress came back, and Van Helsing pulled her sleeve to bring her mouth down to his ear: "Bring the rest of her bottle... and mine as well," he whispered, and the barmaid left quickly. "My line of work," he began, doing her the courtesy of tipping his worn leather hat back enough to show his eyes. "Well, as my reputation usually precedes me, I'd assume you'd know, but all the same... I myself am a man of God... a murderer, a saint, a hero, and a villian; it all depends who you ask and what I've done to them or someone they've known. I kill anything evil... I'm not paid and I'm not insane, either." He gave her a small smile at this point, but she didn't seem to find anything worth a grin. He picked up the wine bottle now and filled her glass as he continued: "Well... let's see... you may ask what do I kill? Werewolves, obviously... any irregular creature that may do evil damage to those innocent around them. Shape-shifters, goblins, vampires... I hate vampires with a passion; I have a bit of a past with some of them." His eyes darted momentarily to the grimy, slightly shattered window and was only slightly surprised to see "Elizabeth" (yes, he saw through the alias as well) standing looking inside. Join the party, Van Helsing grinned in his head.
Van Helsing watched Elizabeth go as he followed "rent-a-window" girl to the inn's bottom floor bar. I have an uneasy feeling about these two, he thought as he sat opposite "window-woman." She seems to be falling for the charm, so to speak. Now I only have to get her comfortable enough to tell me about the rest of the werewolf family that is around here... and figure out whatever she's hiding... "So you don't know Elizabeth that well if you're just blowing through town, I assume?" he asked now, asking the closest (and seemingly only) barmaid for a glass of rum. "And your name would be nice, as well," he added a moment later.
"Well, now, that's decent enough," Van Helsing said to the "seven-year-liar", and gallantly swung off his tall horse, extremely close to the woman in front of her. He held her gaze, which was hard to do, since both had their eyes shadowed in a hat or hood. "Always this popular, unfortunately," he added in a low voice, no smile in tact this time. His eyes had drited unavoidably to the bloody body of the man, who, at the time, had been a snarling, red-eyed, rabid beast charging at his throat. All the villagers seemed to notice his gaze, and gave him the same look he always received: "Murderer... monster... devil... killer... get out." "Mr. Van Helsing?" The girl in front of him broke his recollection. "Yes," he replied. "Feed the horse; she's hungry, and, if there's no trouble, I leave by morning." He turned from her gaze and handed his tall horse's reigns to a small stable boy next to him. Van Helsing turned to a the young, "inn-window-girl" (as he named her, creatively) who stood behind him. She alsmost made him want to smile again... almost... "A drink..." he continued, trying to shake the image of the werewolf, turning into a skinny, twenty year old or so man in front of him after the third silver bullet had entered his heart from his mind. "How about at that Inn you seemed to own a window at?"
Wow,Van Helsing thought, looking from the young girl who had just spoken to the one impatiently waiting for his attention again. I never knew there were such lovely women in this God forsaken peice of s.hit town. "Well, miss, if you find me so interesting, you must be interested in my line of work," he said aloud, getting rid of his smile as he was becoming aware of all the vindictive eyes of the villagers on him. "I'd say that's enough to earn you a drink." He looked at the "seven-year-liar" (as he now named her in his mind) in front of his horse and said: "I assumed from all the tumultuous thank you's that I should leave now, but if you put up my horse and I stay for a bit." He saw the look of confusion on her face, and added, "Since I know that's what you really want."
"I see," Van Helsing said now, and before he could finish the rest of the reply, he heard a laugh. The sound was so foreign to his ears, so unusual to hear that it attracted all his immediate attention. Scanning the dismal, white throng of people, he caught the eye of the laugher. Ah, he thought. The window gal... she's got quite the face now I've seen it in the light. "I've been known to make a girl smile or two," Van Helsing said, tilting his leather hat up enough to wink at the young girl, "but what's so funny?" He could tell that the villager woman-- who claims to be a resident here for seven years... I don't buy it was still looking for his attention, but instead he waited for the young girl's reply.
"You shouldn't judge me, miss," Van Helsing replied, seeing through the gril's lack of wit very easily. "You really don't seem native to these parts..." He paused, waiting for the girl's reaction. Seeing her open her mouth to protest, he cut in again: "But when you speak of methods, now... what on earth have I done wrong? Forgive me, but if there is another way of killing a werewolf I would love to hear it now." He made a quick glance up at the inn's window once more, but saw nothing except a blank sheet of tattered, black velvet curtains. Should be on her way down... he thought, his grin still in place.
Just when I thought I was about to leave, tooVan Helsing thought, not bothering to conceal a huge, sigh. "Well, miss," he began now, trying not to show his smile at her obvious attempt hide her identity. "If you'd like to conform to looks alone, then be my guest... what makes me such a giveaway as a killer?" No one else in the crowd spoke, even though he was pleased to see several faces go white when he spoke such a bland question to the curious woman in front of his tall horse. As the girl thought, Van Helsing glanced around at the buildings, and caught the eye of someone in a window of a nearby inn. He could see a lock of hair and a white shirt before the figure turned and disappeared. That's okay, he thought, his grin widening. I like the young, mysterious ones anyway.
Van Helsing. It is a name that echoes across the bloody trail left behind him each paranoid town or diliapidated churchyard he roams through. His purpose is to conquer all the evil, monstrous filth that has invaded the poor country of Transilvania. Some call him a saint for all the lives he saves... some call him a murderer for all the lives he takes. He says it's a little of both. Van Helsing now rode his horse through a crowd of silent people in a tiny town center. He did not remember the name of the place, or of the people that surrounded him now. All their faces were stone cold and dreading, as if, for some reason, they had just forgotten that moments ago he had shot a werewolf to death that was about to kill innocent children! The blood is already washed from my hands, he thought as he crossed himself. "Devil!" a voice called out suddenly, almost as he reached the gate out into the cold, snow-covered wilderness. Van Helsing stopped his horse abruptly, turning his head to glance back at the crowd of starving, ragged villagers. "It's harsh word," he replied, almost to himself, quiet enough for only those closest to the gated walls could hear. "But I've heard worse... you're welcome." Adjusting his hat so the worn black leather was tilted over his eyes once more, he placed his gun (no silver bullets in it now; they all rested in the heart of a werewolf-infected man fifty feet behind him on the floor) back in its holster and was about to bolt his horse out of the town's gates when something stopped him. These people still need help, he thought unfortunately. I might as well stay to protect them, in case this poor man's brother shows up next.
im dracula... KING OF THE WORLD!!!
