3 Arriving In Town And A Warm Welcome

Riding into town, I can safely tell you that these people do not like visitors. Everyone looked at us with scrutiny, the many different pairs of eyes showing the same look; untrusting.

I road in first, followed by Van Helsing and then Carl at the very back - probably still mumbling his complaints about being forced to come with us and/or about his sore arse. That's what staying cooped up in your laboratory will get you in this age. Whenever you travel to rural places like this, travelling by horse is the only way to go. No cushy carriages here.

Passing under the bridge into the main courtyard of the village, I pulled up near a post before dismounting my horse and tying it's lead around the wooden post meant for horses. Stroking it's neck, I gave it a reassuring clap before feeding it some of the rations I'd kept for it.

It whined and stirred uncomfortably, as if it could sense the unease around the place. The potential for danger. Carl and Van Helsing soon dismounted also, and their horses were doing the same thing.

The trio of us gathered up, practically pushed together by the villagers crowding around us holding all sorts of farming equipment. Some even had swords at their waists - guards, no doubt. But from their lackluster stance and their unfit bodies...I'd say they weren't formally trained in any sort of fighting or swordplay. Nevertheless, they were obviously trying to intimidate us by the hand they all put on their sword's hilt.

Unnerved by the surrounding villagers, Carl decided to distract himself by carrying on their earlier conversation, "So, what exactly do you remember, Van Helsing?"

"Not now, Carl," Van Helsing admonished, warily looking around for any threats.

"Well, there must be something," Carl ignored the social cues and pressed on, as he usually does before looking to me, "What about you Michael? You remember your name, so you must be better off than him," he gestured over to Van Helsing, causing me to sigh.

In truth, I did remember a little bit of this body's life and I did not like what it meant one bit.

"I remember bits and pieces. A pertinent memory would be fighting the Romans at Masada with him," I said as I did what Van Helsing did - looking around for any threats. Not the villagers but beyond that. For anything of supernatural influence.

And that's the main thing with my memories: I can only remember battles. No personal moments. No thoughts of feelings. Just battle. Over the last six years, those memories have helped me sharpen my combat prowess alongside rigorous training and experimenting with different moves and my superhuman physicality.

Van Helsing nodded in agreement, gesturing to me with a hand as if to show that's what he remembered as well. This seemed to thoroughly stump Carl.

"That...that was in 73 AD," he looked between the two of us with scrunched up brows, obviously in between believing us and calling us out on some sort of practical joke we were playing on him. In the end, he seemed to believe us just as Van Helsing replied.

"You asked, Carl. You asked," he said as we continued walking, just as the crowd of villagers around us cut off our escape/rear and had us surrounded from all sides. Axes, farming scythes and swords in hand. Jeez, they really did not like outsiders, do they? As they kept taking steps towards us, tightening the circle, Carl began to get a bit more unnerved as he whispered to the two of us.

"What are we doing here? Why is it so important to kill this Dracula, anyway?" he asked as he skittishly looked around, nearly flinching at every step the crowd took to follow/surround us.

Van Helsing sighed and pulled his hat down to cover more of his face, "Because he's the son of the Devil."

"I mean, besides that," Carl asked, obviously looking for any reason to turn back and ride off back to the Vatican.

"Because if we kill him, anything bitten or created by him will also die," I tiredly explained to Carl before giving him a grin, "What, are you scared of the big bad vampire drinking your blood, Carl?" I asked, lightly punching his shoulder which earned me a whispered 'ow' and a glare from Carl.

"Yes!" he whisper shouted, "And if either of you had any brains between you, you'd be scared as well!" he continued and I just shook my head with a grin and a chuckle.

Just as he said that, we arrived in the center of the town which was taken up by a well.

"Welcome, to Transylvania," a sleazy voice spoke with mock enthusiasm, so we turned and looked at him. He was a gaunt man, with skin as pale as snow and dark circles around both his eyes. His light blond hair was scraggy and unwashed, even matted and knotted in places. I'd say I wouldn't want to smell his breath but thanks to my enhanced senses, I already can. And it's worse than my mind could've ever imagined it.

Repressing the disgusted scowl that wanted to work it's way across my face, I backed away and sat on the wall of the well at the center of the village before pulling out my pipe and putting some tobacco in it.

Lighting it up with a match, I took a long puff before releasing it just as Van Helsing dropped his bag of supplies to the ground.

The nicotine didn't really effect me. Not with a metabolism as fast as mine, anyway. But the bad habit I had in my previous life had instilled in me some sort of stress reliever that made smoking calming for me - I guess I also get some sort of placebo that the nicotine helps my mood. Besides, it's helping mask the smell of that man's halitosis, so it serves a purpose.

"Is it always like this?" Carl asked while obviously referencing the crowd around us.

"Yep." "Pretty much" Both I and Van Helsing replied at the same time, only he sounded fed-up while I said mine with a little mirth to my voice.

I took another drag of my pipe just as I noticed a presence exiting the crowd and coming up besides me, "Those will kill you, you know?" the voice asked in a very Eastern European accent. I turned an regarded the woman we'd been sent to help, Anna Valerious. She was even more beautiful in real life, I'll give her that.

Smiling while still holding my pipe in my mouth, I shrugged, "They'll need to make it a bit stronger to kill me, dear."

She looked on the verge of smiling at my words but settled for a scowl before turning her sights to Van Helsing and Carl, "Turn around," and they did so, "Let me see your faces. I've only seen one of them so far," she gave me a sidelong glance, "And so far I'm not impressed," she said and I felt like I was already gonna like this woman. She had a kick to her that most women in this time didn't.

"Why?" Van Helsing asked, very protective of showing his face because of how wanted he was across Europe.

"Because we don't trust strange men who cover their faces," she said and I scoffed audibly, puffing out some smoke.

"You don't seem to trust strange men who don't cover their faces either," I countered but she ignored me and just kept her gaze right on Carl who had his hood up and Van Helsing who was covering the top half of his face with his black hat. She gave a look to the crowd around us and they advanced a step closer as she continued, "You'll also have to be disarmed."

...Nope.

Pulling one of my revolvers quicker than anyone could react, I pointed it at Anna as I spoke, "If anyone tries to take my weapons, so help me God, I'll put them through Hell. If any of you take a step further toward my comrades, I'll put a whole through this woman's chest."

I was bluffing, obviously. Van Helsing knew that and so did Carl. But these people didn't. Neither did this Anna. To them, I was being utterly serious.

However, despite seeming to think I'm being serious, this Anna didn't even flinch, looking at me from the corner of her eye, "You refuse to obey our laws?"

"Your people don't seem to be obeying their own laws," I gestured to the crowd holding weapons, "And even if that specific law only includes an outsider's weapons, well, tell 'em, Helsing," I looked to my longtime friend and he rolled his eyes before placing a hand on both of his revolvers - though they were much smaller than my own. Sad for him, I guess.

"The laws of men mean little to us," he said, his voice gritty and serious. The voice of someone who's seen some shit and come out the other end alive. "We're here to help," Van Helsing continued while Anna seemed to hit her stubborn streak as he held her head high and looked to Van Helsing.

"I don't need your help."

"Really?" Van Helsing spotted something behind Anna and to the skies, sending a look to me before bursting into action and pulling his crossbow from his back.

I dived and spun mid-dive to face the direction the rest of them were facing, pulling free one of my revolvers and blasting off two shots. One missed but the other hit true and blew off the arm of one of the flying woman-bat creatures flying towards us. The vampire screamed in pain and instantly changed course to me, spinning in the air before flapping her wings just enough to provide some counter-force for her legs to swing forward and land a glancing blow across my arm.

The blow barely drew blood and the wound was already beginning to heal as I shot off my last two bullets in the cylinder. The vampire, knowing the power of the gun now, span, twisted and contorted herself in inhuman ways so that my two bullets only did minimal damage. Even then, the bullets left bloody and burning tracts across her back and stomach.

She screamed and turned to mist, flooding away from me as sentient gas and into a nearby house.

The other two tried to come near me but Van Helsing had my back, shooting the crossbow bolts at them whenever they tried to head for me. "Go, get after the other one, Michael!" Van Helsing gave me a shout, "I'll deal with these two."

Returning his words with a nod, I burst up from my crouch position and into the house the vampire had escaped into. Just having finished reloading, I burst through the door, smashing the wooden panel to smithereens. Pulling my other revolver from it's holster, I pointed both of them in front of me. Slowly, I crept into the house, my steps silent and my senses sharpened.

I saw two children, huddled in the corner, sobbing as quietly as they could managed. I met eyes with them and gestured for them to stay quiet as I swept through the living room of the house.

Nothing.

One of the children, the younger of the two, pointed upwards with a shaky finger. Attic it is, then. Turning to the stairs, I slowly went up it one step at a time. I could smell the burnt blood of the vampire - it smelled different to human blood as you could imagine. It smelled dead. Rotting.

The attic was unnaturally dark for this time of day, so I knew magic was involved. Or vampire abilities. I've read about certain vampires being able to effect their environments simply by wishing it so. They're usually either very old vampires or very rare newbloods who have that ability as soon as they're turned. This feels like a mixture of the two. An ability gained when turned and mastered over their undead lifespan.

Suddenly, from the right, the vampire lunged, it's one arm outstretched and it's claws looking like five glittering metal knives. I dodged the immediate danger, sidestepping the thrust before lifting my revolvers to blow the vampire's head off.

But the vampire's arm bent at unnatural angels, grabbing my right revolver and trying to pry it from my hand while it's mouth somehow found it's way to my left wrist and bit down hard. It couldn't draw blood but it was still firmly holding on. Without any immediate way to get my revolvers back, I turned back to the good ol' caveman ways.

Snapping my foot forward, I slammed it into the side of the vampire's knee while I wrestled for control of my weapons. The knee bent to the side with a sickening crunch and I pulled down with both my arms and forced vampire's chest to become very intimate with my knee which rose to meet it. The impact was like a grenade going off next to it's chest, it's entire ribcage breaking and it's internal organs getting squished by the bone and the force of the knee. But I didn't stop there.

Pulling us to the left, I brought my leg back down to balance myself as I brought the other one up and slammed yet another knee into the side of the vampire's ribcage. Blood splurted out of it's mouth and covered my wrist but this gave it the necessary lubrication for my next mouth.

After two successive blows, it's mouth's death-grip on my wrist had loosened enough that along with the blood's help I could forcibly pull my wrist free. With it now free, I pulled the gun back and whipped the bottom of the handle across it's face. It clattered to the ground, head bent at an odd angel and half it's face basically crushed.

"Your days on His Earth are over now, vampire. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit," I pointed the gun at the downed vampire's chest - specifically it's heart - before pulling the trigger and practically bursting it's chest open in a shower of gore, "Amen."

Despite it probably not deserving it, I said a silent prayer for the deceased vampire before holstering both my revolvers.

The attic lost the unnatural darkness it once had and I could finally check the hair colour of the vampire I'd slain. Black. So neither the blonde Vampire Van Helsing killed the first time in the movie nor the redhead Vampire that seems to hold a grudge against Anna. Not that it mattered all too much but it didn't hurt to know.

I caught the hair colour just in time too, as the flesh bubbled and boiled, melting away while simultaneously burning into ash into all that was left were brittle and blackened bones.

Picking up the skull as proof of the kill, I gave a sigh before making my way back down the stairs.

Both of the children were still there and seemed both awed and fearful that I was the one who came back down and not the vampire. They saw the skull in my hands with the signature fangs and their expressions changed to ones of confusion, puzzlement and utter disbelief. Yet, in the older child's eyes, I could see a glimmer of hope which made me smile.

It was nice to think that my profession could bring hope to a child's eyes. My job isn't always gratifying and while I only kill evil, it doesn't mean I enjoy killing something or someone only to see it become a person with an expression of fear on their face.

A necessary job, but never a fun one. Never one that I can take real enjoyment in.

Turning, I exited the building just in time to see Van Helsing nail the blonde Vampire in the chest and head with his crossbow while it was screaming in anguish at the Vampire I'd just killed. The last vampire, the redhead, snarled at us before flashing away in the same mist-form the one I killed used. What an annoying ability.

He soon sat down on the steps of the church for this small village and I made my way over to him, picking up my pipe along the way. Brushing off the muck on the pipe, I put it back in my coat pocket and looked at the ripped sleeve, clicking my tongue in annoyance as I did so.

At least the wound had already healed. Healing factor for the win, I guess.

Sitting down next to Van Helsing, I placed the skull down as well, leaning on my knees as I did so. "You took one out as well?" he asked and I shot him a look before nodding.

"I did it quicker as well. At least we know who's better at this infernal job," I gave him a grin, though the joke behind it was only halfhearted at best. Like I said, I don't enjoy killing things, no matter how deserving of death that creature is. Van Helsing saw my meaning and gave a grim chuckle in reply as Carl came over with his hat. Van Helsing took the hat back, dusting it off and putting it back on just in time for the crowd to come storming out of their houses, shouting and raging about us killing the vampires.

They paced at us with their impromptu weapons raised, their cries of outrage echoing through the village. Carl looked to them and then back to us, " But isn't it a good thing?" he asked to whoever was willing to anger.

"Vampires only kill what they need to survive," the gaunt, corpse-like man who welcomed us to Transylvania said, "One or two people a month. Now, they will kill for revenge," he said with a sick smirk on his face, his eyes filled with an odd sense of greed. No doubt because he was the grave digger and coffin maker.

I scoffed, shooting a glare at the man who flinched upon meeting my fiery green eyes with his own black ones, "That's still one or two people too many. They kill to extend their unnatural life, if you can even call their twisted imitation that," I said, a deep disgusted tone to my voice that this man even thought one or two people dying from unnatural means was okay. Standing, I regarded him with a look one would give an unsightly insect, "So don't act all high and mighty against what we did. Those unlucky few who would've been killed in a month or the following one would not be so nonchalant about the vampire's feeding patterns."

I turned to the crowd who'd stopped at what I'd said, "And what makes you think they will come for revenge? Only Dracula and his final bride remain. My comrades and I will finish them before they even get the chance to touch a single hair upon any of your heads just like what we did here."

Anna came from the crowd, a smile on her face as she regarded me and the rest of the trio, "I'll give you this; you've got plenty of confidence and courage. Not to mention that the two of you are the first people to kill a vampire in one-on-one combat in over a hundred years," her volume went up toward the end, spreading the declaration to the ears of all here. She continued walking until she was in front of me, "You're reputation precedes you, Michael Van Helsing and his mysterious brother who goes by nothing but Van Helsing. Both prestigious warriors who belong to the Knights of The Holy Order. A pleasure to meet the both of you," she said, looking at the both of us.

...Goddammit, I never should've used his name as my surname for a joke. Now everyone thinks we're related. Though I suppose, if I'm write about who I was before I came into this body, we are technically brothers.

Sighing, I reached into my coat pocket for my pipe and put it in my mouth again, "Does this place have any strong drinks?" I asked, knowing the alcohol wouldn't effect me in the slightest. But I'll keep trying until I find something that I can. I'm a man of faith, sure, but haven't you heard? Alcohol is a gift from God.

Anna grinned in reply to my question, obviously intent on sharing a drink with us.