4 Convincing Anna, A Werewolf Appears And Doubts

"So, how did you get here?" Anna asked, swinging the doors to her humble abode wide open. It was a castle, one you'd usually only see under a noble's ownership - yet I knew it once had been. This had been the Count's personal home, centuries ago. I both knew it through foreknowledge and through hours of reading along the way to Romania.

"By sea," I answered as I looked around, the castle having a rustic, if not downright simple, charm to it. The walls were stone and covered in portraits. The only thing not simple about this place was how it was covered in weapons and suits of armour.

It would seem that Anna's family really had devolved into a single-minded pursuit of killing Dracula. Not that I can blame them but this castle is a testament to their obsession.

"Yes, the Adriatic Sea," Carl clarified from behind us as he looked around at the castle - he didn't seem very impressed.

Anna spared me a glance, "Really? The sea? Why?"

"Well," I started, "I'm sure you're aware of Viktor and his Elders who live to the west, yes?" I asked and she scowled but still nodded in acknowledgement, "They own the west side of Romania, as you know, but they also own the countries bordering that side as well - two monster hunters and a friar travelling through that vampire-owned land would just be a horrible journey for both sides. We'd have run out of supplies halfway here due to the constant attacks. Hence why we went by sea to Greece then travelled up through into Bulgaria before finally arriving here."

Van Helsing seemed aggrieved by all this talk so he spoke up before Anna could reply to me, "So, where can we find Dracula?" he bluntly said and I shot him a look to which he ignored. Deserving of a bloody slap, he is.

"He used to live in this house four centuries ago," Anna picked up a belt and wrapped it around her waist, "No one knows where he lives now," she clipped the two ends of the belt together before saying with a sad tone, "My father looked at a map for hours, looking for Dracula's lair. That one, if you feel like wasting your time like he did," she gestured to wall that just so happened to have a map of Transylvania spread across it.

Carl wandered over to the map and Van Helsing spared a look at Anna before he followed Carl over to the map. Not surprising, seeing as he hates to talk too much and I'm here to do all the talking.

"So," Anna said, picking up knives and swords and putting them through the loops in her belt, "That's why you three came? To help kill Dracula?" she stopped her messing about with weapons and turned to look at me over her shoulder.

I nodded, taking a few steps closer to her, "Yes. You saw what Van Helsing and I did to those earlier vampires, so you know we're not inexperienced rookies who'll get in your way," I reasoned yet still, the stubbornness and pride in her eyes was there. Sighing, I continued, "You're still outnumbered. You still don't know where Dracula is. Let us help you, Anna," I pleaded, knowing she'd get herself killed if she tried to do this alone.

"No one can help me," she said in a dreadful tone, "Yes, you killed one of Dracula's brides. Yes, you're one of the first men to kill a vampire in Romania in over a hundred years," she turned, a fiery look in her eye, "But this is my fight. I must do this, for my family. I can't in good conscience drag others into this."

Giving her a slight grin, I responded, "Well, like you said, Anna. We killed two of Dracula's brides - we're already in this mess with you." She looked like she wanted to refute what I said but no words came out her mouth. Yet the defiance and pride in her eyes was still there.

She's a real stubborn one, huh?

"You need to stay alive for your family who are waiting to enter Heaven, Anna. Don't let your pride and stubbornness make them wait forever," I warned, knowing that pride in oneself's abilities is fine but beyond a certain point it becomes a detriment. Anna's looked turned to a glare, as if the insinuation that she'd willingly let her family be cursed to purgatory was infuriating to her, but I continued with a raised hand, "I know you don't want that. That you wouldn't let it happen if you had the choice. But you're up against a vampire who's over four centuries old, Anna. Even if you don't want it to happen, he could still kill you and then it's over for your family and you."

She stopped, looking away from me and laying her hands on the thick wooden table in front of her, weapons strewn across it. She leaned forward and was silent for a few seconds before she replied, "...I know you're right, Michael. I know the risks. I've known them since I was a child," she lamented, obviously knowing her pride and stubbornness weren't ideal. "Tell me, you're a holy man, aren't you? From the Vatican? Then what would God wish for me to do?" she asked a very difficult question.

I didn't answer straight away, instead walking over to the side of her before I sat down on the same table she was leaning on. I took a few extra seconds to think up my answer, all while Anna looked at me from the corner of her eye and through the hair that cascaded over her face.

"I can't feign to know what God wants from you, Anna. I'm not a prophet nor am I His mouth, so I don't speak His words," I admitted, knowing that being truthful would be the best thing to do here. False hope is rarely a good thing, after all. "But I do know what your family would want," I said and she got ready to interrupt me but I got there first, "I know, I know - they'd also wish to enter Heaven. But never at the sacrifice of your life. And if what's needed to kill Dracula is our help? They'd want you to take that help."

Anna went quiet before she sighed, her shoulders slumping before she turned fully toward me and moved her hair out of the way, a tired smile on her face, "Has anyone told you you're less like a holy man and more like a silver-tongued devil?" she joked and I smirked.

"Some have, but I manage to fool most of the rest that I'm just a holy man," I returned the joke with a wink and a conspiratorial tone, and she gave a light laugh before shaking her head and pushing off of the table and standing straight once more.

"I owe you that drink, do I not?" she gave me a look that said she needed one too, so I nodded with a smile and stood up from leaning on the table as well.

. . .

Now, I won't lie: I am in bed with Anna. I have done the dirty with her as well. What? Just because I'm a man of faith I can't have some casual sex? Get outta here.

How did it happen? We didn't get drunk and make a mistake or anything. Just have a few casual drinks while talking and we kinda hit it off. From that point onward it was just a matter of time, and when Anna straddled me and began kissing me...well, who was I to say no? Don't get me wrong, I'm not the type of fool who thinks he's in love with Anna just because I had sex with her. No. We had some fun, got rid of our stress, no strings attached.

If it develops into something more in the near future? Then it happens. But for now, it was just a night of fun. Nonetheless, that night of fun was soon going to come to an end because I could already hear the werewolf inside the castle. I could smell it too - the wet dog smell was very pungent.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I began pulling on my pants before standing up and slipping on my holster. I didn't need my shirt, tie or my jacket. Not like they provide any armor against a supernatural creature like a werewolf. Not much does provide armor against their claws.

Anna awoke to see me putting clothes on yet she didn't know the situation, so she lay on her side, the thin sheets of the bed doing very little for the imagination as they hugged her athletic but curvy and feminine body, "Leaving in the middle of the night? I don't know whether to applaud your confidence or feel offended, Michael," she joked before sitting up fully, the sheets falling down and showing her bare chest, "Are you sure you want to leave this?" she jokingly challenged in a sultry tone.

...If only there wasn't a werewolf in the castle. God, give me patience because if you give me strength I'm gonna brutalise a werewolf.

"There's something in the castle, Anna, and it's not Carl or Van Helsing," I said, putting a dampener on her smile as she froze for a moment before shooting out of bed and beginning to get dressed herself.

"What is it," Anna asked hurriedly pulling on her clothes and picking up the weapons that had been thrown around the room during our tussle to the bed.

"Werewolf," I said, picking up my sword from the ground and holding the grip tight, "Have any experience with them?" I asked with a hurried tone, making my way to the door, opening it and looking outside into the hall as I took a long whiff of the air flowing through the castle. Not too far away, even now. Prowling through the halls of the castle, looking for it's prey.

Anna gave me a nod as she secured her last weapon to her person, "Yes. Big, strong, fast and can only be killed by silver."

"Then let's go find it," I said before making my move out into the hallway. I made my way through the hall at a sprint, keeping my speed at such a level that Anna could follow me. I entered the room through which we'd came in the first place - the room filled with weapons and armor.

I could feel the slightly heated air lingering, which told me it had been here. I saw the window, open, and flapping in the wind. I saw the wet paw prints on the stone floor. Yet I knew it wasn't on the floor anymore and stood, waiting for Anna who caught up to me.

I leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Don't react, it's right above us. Lead us to an open space, one where we can battle it."

Anna stiffened but only for a moment before she began walking further into the room which opened up into a room filled with chairs and a table - it looked like the type of room you'd entertain guests in. It hadn't seen much use, from what I could see.

The werewolf followed us, ever so sure of it's stealth as it crawled along the roof.

This type of werewolf was the Magical Kind. The kind that's harder to kill than normal Werewolves or even Lycans. Normal Werewolves are just like humans for the most part; catch them off-guard and cut their head off or give them another sort of mortal wound and they'll eventually die. Even Lycans will die from beheading or having most of their major organs removed or destroyed. But this type of werewolf will only be killed through the use of silver bullets. Pure, silver bullets.

Anything else? It'll heal from it. Even if you bisect it at the waist, it's two halves will rejoin themselves somehow and it'll be back to normal. You could even blow it's head off and it'll recover. The only saving grace is that these types of werewolves are exceedingly rare.

My guns will hurt it because of the traces of blessed silver in them, but it'll only slow it down for the most part. Which leaves me with my sword, thought I can only use it when it's within range.

Right now it's on the ceiling, out of reach.

My free hand reached for one of my revolvers, slowly and with no sudden movements. The moment I began drawing the weapon, I spun on my feet and aimed it up into the darkest corner of the ceiling. I fired off two rounds in quick succession, nailing the werewolf in the chest and the side of it's neck.

It yowled before roaring out and lunging at me, it's blackened claws reaching out ahead of it's mid-air form. I brought my sword up, chanting 'Ignis' in a whisper as the edges of the sword turned orange under the heat flowing through the weapon. The werewolf's claws hit the sword and I slid back a foot or two under it's immense momentum and weight before stopping. I lifted the revolver once more and barely caught it's leg as it threw itself out of the way.

The wounds on it's chest and neck didn't even seem to effect it's bodily function outside of stopping it from properly turning it's neck. The wounds were even beginning to heal. Still, I could work with it.

Charging after it, I fired off my last shot which hit the same leg, blowing it clean off before holstering my revolver and pulling out my second one just as I caught up with it. I thrust my sword through it's arm before twisting and yanking it away. Levelling my gun at it's head again, I quickly ducked my head back to avoid it's free arm's claws from carving my face off but I still pulled the trigger.

Another scream of pain told me I'd hit but the fact it screamed told me I hadn't hit it where I wanted to. Looking at it, I saw I'd blown the top right half of it's head off, taking one of it's ears out in the process but just barely missing taking it's eye out as well.

This werewolf is extremely tough, huh? I should see if I can upgrade the calibre to 30mm when I get back to the Vatican, just as a special surprise for supernatural creatures like these werewolves.

Either way, the werewolf tore away from me, vertically splitting it's forearm in half as it shot away to the ceiling again. I swung my claymore and severed the tendril of flesh that was connecting the leg stump and the leg that I'd blown off. What a tenacious healing ability.

This fight hadn't been going at normal speed either. Less than seven seconds had passed since the werewolf first lunged at me, both of us fighting at superhuman speeds which Anna could barely keep up with - it'd seem the movies slowed things down for the viewers, huh? These guys are faster and stronger than they were shown to be. But not that fast or strong. It's agility was a little higher than mine but I trumped it in terms of strength and durability.

Despite being little more than an animal right now, the werewolf seemed to have a degree of intelligence still as it bounced back down to the floor before it shot toward it's leg. Though not before throwing one of the sofas right at me as a distraction.

I cleaved through the flying object and shot another round at the fleeing werewolf's back, grazing the thing as it fled. Clicking my tongue, I thought it was all done until the werewolf stopped and seemed to howl in pain, it's bone structure changing underneath it's skin like it was made of fluid. Looking out the nearby window, I saw that the moon was becoming covered by clouds. Within moments, the werewolf returned to it's human form.

The form? Obviously, it was Velkan Valerious, Anna's brother.

The woman who just so happened to be his sister was looking right at where he'd finished transforming, "V-Velkan?" she got out in a shaky voice, the fact that her brother was now a creature of the night striking her like a baseball bat to the head, "No...No, no!" she cried and while I held sympathy for what she was going through I could wait for her to get over this.

The moment came as quickly as it went and Velkan quickly turned back into a werewolf before casting one last look back at his sister. Then he was off, throwing himself out a nearby window.

Soon enough, Van Helsing came onto the scene, looking out the same window Velkan had jumped out of. He turned and saw me, reloading my revolvers with a complicated look on my face. Why the look? Because I'd messed up. I'd missed kill shots all because I knew it was Anna's brother. I'd taken other shots instead because I...because I don't want to see monsters turn back into their human form after I've killed them. All I've gotten out of this job so far is people spitting on me and nightmares - and for what? So I can watch people I've killed look at me with the question of 'Why?' in their dying eyes.

I've seen real evil. I've killed it too. But Velkan isn't that. I knew he was being forced to do this by Dracula, that he was basically under his control. Clicking the cylinder shut on my revolver, I stuffed it back in it's holster before sighing.

My faith is wavering. Maybe a life of killing isn't for me, after all? Even if it is one I'm particularly skilled for.*

(*A/n - Before people start complaining about this, let me tell you this: I want my MC to be a 3-dimension character and not some cardboard cutout that kills without questioning his actions. I'm sick and tired of reading about MCs who kill, have a moment of regret and then forgot all about it in the next bloody paragraph. If it were that easy to forget about killing something and going through horrible situations, soldiers wouldn't come back from war with PTSD, would they?)

Problems with faith aside, I looked to Van Helsing who came up to me, looking me in the eyes with a knowing look. Yet the question on his mind didn't come out his mouth, instead another one did, "Werewolf?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I fought it off but we should get to tracking it as soon as possible. Maybe it can lead us to Dracula's lair."

Van Helsing gave a nod before sparing a glance at Anna before gesturing to her while looking back at me. Turning to Anna myself, I saw the distressed expression on her face, mixed in with disbelief, shock and utter sadness. Walking over to her, I put a hand around her shoulders in the form of a half-hug and gave her a comforting squeeze.

She felt this and turned to me, wrapping her arms around and and quietly sobbing under the realisation that this wasn't a dream. The strong warrior was gone and a woman who'd just realised she'd lost her brother was now here.

I held her tight and looked up as Van Helsing walked off. No doubt to prepare himself for the journey ahead. Closing my eyes, I said a quick prayer, hoping for Velkan's soul to find it's way to Heaven despite his affliction.