Acquainted With The Night | By : KatrisAlana Category: S through Z > Van Helsing Views: 3323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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“Incubus”
By Shawna
A/N: Unfortunately, I don’t own Van Helsing and even more
unfortunately, I don’t own Hugh Jackman. Oh the things I would do if I did… I'm also not making any money for this. Boo. but
so yeah, now you all know this fic is based on the
new movie starring Hugh Jackman. Of course. I’m a
rabid fan-girl after all. Also, this story has het
sex, w00t, and a whee bit of
slash. Don’t read if you can’t handle a little sexy boy on sexy man action. Oh, and if I fuck up any details or facts let
me know. While I faithfully stand by the character's name as Abraham, I do like the name Gabriel better and it is how Van Helsing introduced himself in the animated prequel so I guess... Gabriel it is.
Another day, another night, another hunt. Gabriel Van Helsing sighed and pushed his hat
further down onto his head as he strode through the darkened streets of the
sleeping city. Fog curled around his
ankles, his steps echoed on the cobbled road.
Assignments from the Vatican
had been coming in greater and greater numbers over the past few months, as if
the world was slipping ever deeper into darkness and evil. He wondered if the slow deterioration of
morality could really be stopped by his efforts to destroy those creatures
which resulted from the ultimate evil of mankind. Somehow he did not believe this to be
true. What could one man do to save a
depraved world?
His quick,
deliberate steps brought him shortly to the monastery, where he was greeted
with blank looks and non-recognition.
Not until he was well inside and had entered a confessional was any
special attention granted to his presence.
“Another monster to kill, Father?” He asked with his usual
nonchalance towards the prospect.
“Indeed,” the
Father responded solemnly. “This may be
a particularly difficult task, Van Helsing.
Reports indicate that it is a succubus-“
“You think one
little she-demon will be a difficult task?” Van Helsing cut in. “I can handle a little girl.”
“Working in
conjunction wan Ian Incubus,” the Father finished, as though his sentence had
not been so rudely interrupted.
Following this statement, there was a brief silefromfrom both men.
“In conjunction?” Van Helsing’s voice was incredulous. “The Incubi and Succubae hate each
other. Both believe themselves to be the
true representation of their kind and would gladly see the others die out.”
“So the case has
been for as long as we have known of their existence,” the Father said. “But they are a dying race and perhaps, in
their desperation to survive, are realizing that they need one another. The Succubae’s mental faculties and the
Incubi’s brute strength together could, and reportedly have, made them quite a
formidable team. Even if these reports of
them working together prove to be false, you still have to go and contend with
both demons.”
“Of course,” Van
Helsing said, with a touch of bitter sarcasm.
“I absolutely have to.”
The Father gave
him a look like one gives to a child who has just proclaimed ‘you’re not the
boss of me,’ before continuing with the assignment.
“You will go to
the southern coast of France,
to a village called Convoitise and there… find the demons.”
“I can’t wait,”
Van Helsing said in his same embittered tone, as he rose from his seat and
exited the confessional. The
clergypersons in the church eyed him briefly but again, gave no sign of
recognition. They could not do so and he
did not expect it. No one ever bade him
farewell or expressed concern for his safety.
It was no matter; he had no concern for his safety, and so did not
expect or even want anyone else to.
It was already
nearing midnight, but Van Helsing
desired no sleep tonight, as was the case of most nights, even those on which
he did not have to hunt. Sleeping during
the night made him feel vulnerable and very near afraid, as though all of the
creatures he had killed before might manifest themselves in his dreams and so
press themselves into his sleeping conscious that he might never awaken. Of course this thought was ludicrous, and he
cursed himself for every kind of a fool for lying awake at night, sweating and
sleepless. But he could not stop it.
The following
day found him in Convoitise, a medium-sized town not far from a main traveling
road and right beside the ocean. The sun
was out, though its shine was muted by a fog that was unusual for the time of
day it was, but was likely just the result of the nearby sea. The townspeople were milling about, doing
their everyday activities, but he saw the hollowness in their eyes that
indicated they had not slept; he could almost smell the heavy fear in the
air. This was a town haunted by demons.
“Monsieur Van
Helsing? Gabriel Van Helsing?”
>
He turned his
head towards the sound of his name, and saw an elderly priest nearly tripping
over his dull brown robe in his hurry to get to him. Several people turned to look, though they were
trying to hide this fact and act as though they were still working.
“You are Gabriel
Van Helsing, aren’t you?” The priest asked frantically, stopping astride Van
Helsing’s horse and staring up at him with impassioned eyes.
“I am he,” Van
Helsing said simply.
“Oh, praise
God!” Relief flooded over the priest’s face.
“Praise God!
Van Helsing has come to deliver us!” He was shouting now and the townsfolk were
eyeing Van Helsing warily. He could hear
the mutters running through the crowd.
“-heard he was
nothing more than a murderer.”
“-kills innocent
people…”
“I’d rather have
the Incubus.”
Mixed reactions
of praise and scorn were what he commonly received, so the jeers fazed him
little, though they seemed to horrify the priest.
“No! No!
He’ll save us! He won’t let the
demons defile any of our young people!”
“If you say so, Father Mounette,” seemed to be the common attitude
of the villagers. Van Helsing had
to be thankful though that they seemed not to care as much as others about his
presence; they were not pleased to see him but they were not going to try to
drive him out, either. Instead, most of
the townspeople were already turning back to their tasks and he thought perhaps
that though they would not say it, they were secretly hopeful that he would save
them. And of course he would do just that,
though he was already sure it would somehow turn around and make him look
bad. Situations had a way of turning out
in that manner for him. He had learned
to accept it as his fate.
“Monsieur Van
Helsing?”
The voice that
addressed him now was soft and unmistakably female. Seemingly out of nowhere, a woman had
appeared beside old Father Mounette and was looking up at Van Helsing with
hopeful eyes. The woman herself was a
pathetic sight. She was fairly tall, but
bony and thin, and her pallor was positively deathly. She was pale as the moon with sunken cheeks,
her hair was so light as to be nearly white, and her only color came in the
unhealthy presence of dark circles beneath her eyes. Her simple brown dress hung on her thin
frame. The poor thing looked as though
she had not slept in a week and had spent that week not only awake but under
extreme duress.
“Oh, Monsieur
Van Helsing,” Father Mounette put an arm around the sickly-looking girl. “This is Elisabeth Defarge, the daughter of one of the founders of our fine village. Her family has lived here for generations-"
“That’s very fascinating,” Van
Helsing interrupted. “But why do I
care?”
The priest was
obviously taken aback by his attitude and for a moment seemed flustered, unable
to find words. “Well, I, she-“
“I’m one of the
Incubus’s targets,” the girl finished the Father’s sentence. “There are very few young women in this town
and two of them are barren. I and the
other two fertile girls have been hiding out in the church at night, with the
young men guarding us, but I fear the Succubus will eventually wile them away
and then we will be defenseless. Please,
Monsieur Van Helsing, the other girls and myself, we nyou you to guard us.”
“I’m not a
guard,” Van Helsing said quickly, irritated by a request that he stand watch
instead of actively hunting. “I came
here to kill these creatures as fast as possible, not to stand around and wait
to scare them off.”
Elisabeth
dropped her head and sniffled. “But
while you are out hunting, the Incubus could come into the church and defile
all of us.” A slight sob wracked her
shoulders.
Van Helsing
rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh of frustration. As much as he would hate to stand watch, it
was true that the Incubus was likely to be wherever the girls were, not out
away from town waiting to be hunted down.
“Stop your
sniveling, woman,” Van Helsing said. “An
Incubus can only defile you if you let him.
Surely you girls are not all so willing to be bedded that you’d spread
your legs for the demon?”
Elisabeth
visibly bristled. “Monsieur, surely you
know that the Incubi have powers over the mind that make them more… persuasive
than any human male could be. Resisting
them is not simply a matter of mental faculties.”
“Yes, yes, of
course not,” Van Helsing waved his hand dismissively. “Nevertheless, I’ll stand guard, but not in
front of the church. It’s too large a
building, with too many places it could hide.
We’ll move into a small house tonight and wait until it comes for you.”
“’It,’ Monsieur?”
“The Incubus, what else?” Van Helsing said irritably. It should have been quite obvious what he was
talking about, even to this woman who seemed ready to collapse and die at any
second.
“Forgive me,
Monsieur,” the girl said, but her voice and her face were hard and she looked as
though, had she been possessed of the strength, she would have gladly pulled
him off his horse and beaten him. The
image of this in his mind caused him to laugh, and Father Mounette and
Elisabeth could both only stare at him quizzically, as he was certainly not
going to tell them what he found so amusing.
“You’ll excuse
me, Monsieur,” Elisabeth said, curtsying a bit.
“I certainly
will.”
She gave him a
look like poisoned daggers and then turned on her heel and disappeared back
into where it would seem she had come from, the church. Father Mounette looked worriedly at Van
Helsing and threw himself into a deep bow.
“You’ll have to forgive the girl’s behavior,
indeed the behavior of all the townspeople.
Everyone has undoubtedly lain awake in fear these past nights…”
“Undoubtedly,”
Van Helsing said, finally dismounting his horse. “Where will I be accommodated?”
“Oh,
accommodations, of course, right this way,” the Father bowed deeply again and
motioned for Van Helsing to follow as he moved away, towards the church.
“Relena!” Father Mounette called into the church. “Relena!”
Another pale young
woman emerged from the shadows of the church, blinking in the sunlight, dim as
it was. Her dress was that of a nun, a
woman of God. She ultimately had more
color to her skin and hair than the previous girl, but was no less homely.
“Relena,” the
Father spoke gently to her. “This is
Monsieur Van Helsing, come to aid us in vanquishing the demons.” The girl’s face lit up at hearing this, and
she beamed at Van Helsing even as Father Mounette continued, “Please take
Monsieur Van Helsing’s horse to the stable.”
“Of course,
Father,” she said pleasantly, turning her attention to Van Helsing and
curtsying to him somewhat shyly before taking the reigns of his horse from his
hands. The horse shied away from her,
whinnying nervously, but the girl clicked her tongue soothingly and the animal
settled down and allowed itself to be led away as the Father beckoned Van
Helsing up the stairs of the church.
Inside the
rundown church it was unusually dim, and Van Helsing squinted to be able to see
in the gloom. Soft organ music was
playing, an eerie tune, and the stained glass windows were very much stained,
allowing in very little light, and only a few scattered candles were lit. Elisabeth was seated in one of the pews, and
she shot a dark glance at Van Helsing and then turned her back to him. Moving farther into the church, Van Helsing
began to be able to make out the figure seated at the organ, playing the
mournful song. It was obviously a woman,
clothed in a richly red dress with curly dark brown hair cascading down her
back. Father Mounette loudly cleared his
throat.
“Emilie? I’d like you to meet Monsieur Van Helsing,
the one who has come to aid us in fighting the demons.”
The woman at the
organ struck a discordant note when the Father said this, and then she whirled
around on the bench. “Monsieur Van
Helsing?” She scoffed. Her deep brown
eyes, luminous even in the dim light, regarded Van Helsing with exaggerated disdain. Her lips were dark red like her dress, and
she was wickedly beautiful. “Van
Helsing?” She repeated. “I’ve heard
you’re nothing but a murderer.”
“You’ve heard
correctly,” Van Helsing said with a smirk.
“I am known for killing.”
Father Mounette
looked horrified at this, but Emilie merely stared Van Helsing down for several
seconds before rising from the o wit with one sweeping step. Her dress whirled around her ankles as she
approached him.
“So you think
you can kill the demons?” She asked, stopping less than a foot away from
him. “You think you have the will to
resist the Succubus’s power?”
“No she-demon is
going to get me to bed her,” he said confidently, still smirking down at the
rather short Emilie, even as he breathed in her smell, a definite musk perfume. “Are you afraid I’ll choose her over you?”
Emilie laughed, a sharp, hard sound like a silver knife. “Oh, I’m trembling at the thought,” she said.
“Trembling about
which thought?” He asked suggestively.
“Well,
actually-“
“Ahem,” Father
Mounette interrupted. “Let me show you
to your room, Monsieur.”
Emilie smiled
warmly, seductively at Van Helsing and turned slowly on her heel and returned
to the organ. Father Mounette stepped in
front of Van Helsing, blocking his obvious line of sight.
“Right this
way,” the Father said merrily, obviously aware of what he was doing but
pretending to not be. Van Helsing
grinned humorlessly and followed Father Mounette into the back of the church
and through a small door.
A small stairway
and a dank hall led to the room where he would be put up. The room was barren and somehow extremely
depressing. It was even darker than the
main church, lit only be two candles seated next to a Bible on a tiny square
table beside the small, visibly uncomfortable bed. Van Helsing sighed inwardly; he would not get
any decent sleep on this bed and this room, empty but for the bed and table,
with its stone walls and no window would haunt him.
“Thank you,
Father,” he said with as most sincerity as he could muster, which obviously was
not quite enough from him to sound genuine.
“I’ll leave you
to get settled,” Father Mounette said with another deep bow. “I’ll alert you when supper is to be served,
and you can explain your, eh, plan? At that time.”
“Absolutely,
Father,” Van Helsing said, nodding his head as the priest left the room,
shutting the door softly behind him. He
cast his eyes around the room, already beginning to feel his emotional status
sinking to match the status of the church’s atmosphere. He dropped the bag that had been slung over
his shoulder onto the floor by the bed, and it thudded heavily, being laden
with the tools of his trade: weapons. A
few guns, a bow, crossbow, plenty of arrows, knives, and even a sword were in
the bag. A kind of
weapon for every situation that could arise.
Sinking onto the
bed, Van Helsing pressed his hands over his face. Another hunt, just another
assignment. All assignments
affected him this way, for he was not entirely sure why he even did this, why it
was his job his his talent to slay evil creatures. It was not the sort of job one would normally
just fall into. But he had, and he still
did not know why or how. Finding out was
what drove him, but at times he wondered how killing monsters was going to
bring him any closer to knowing who he was.
At some point,
he must have laid down and slept, and vague,
incomprehensible dreams flitted through his sleep, as they always did. Hours must have passed, and then a soft rap
on the door roused him from his sleep.
For a moment, he looked around, bewildered, not recognizing his
surroundings. Remembrance washed over
him slowly, like cool water and he relaxed back onto the bed. The knock sounded again. He rose slowly, arching his back to stretch
as he moved towards the door. Expecting
to see Father Mounette, he was surprised to be greeted by the dark eyes and
full lips of Emilie.
“Supper is being
served, Monsieur,” she said softly, licking her lips slowly. He grinned licentiously down at her.
“Right now?”
“Not quite yet,”
she said suggestively, leaning against the doorframe and arching her back. “We have time to…”
“Emilie!”
Elisabeth had come around the dark corner of the hallway that led to the small
room, and now she was looking at Emilie with mild disgust but no surprise.
“There you are,
Emilie,” she said, tight-lipped. “Father
Mounette wants you to set the table, supper is almost on.”
Emilie heaved a
sigh. “Oh, fine,” she said, waving
Elisabeth off. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Now,
Emilie,” Elisabeth said, turning on her heel and disappearing back up the
stairs. Emilie rolled her eyes and
turned back to Van Helsing.
“I hate staying
here,” she said. “I have to work like an
orphan or something. I’m not
Relena.” She pressed a hand to Van
Helsing’s chest and he reached up and gripped her wrist, enjoying her physical
closeness despite the fact that she was about to leave.
“Some other
time, I suppose,” she said with a smile.
“When I can get away from the Father and the annoying
Sisters.”
“The best time
would be when I finish this job.”
“Well then,” she
smiled. “It will be your reward.”
Van Helsing
chose to say nothing else as Emilie slowly turned and strode back down the
hallway and up the stairs. He looked
after her for awhile, before turning back into his room, pressing his back
against the door to close it. He pressed
his hands back against his face and sighed.
What am I
doing? Am I so desperate? It had been some time since he had had a
woman. Emilie was certainly the best
looking thing here, and seemed eager enough.
Still, he did not want to stay in this town long, and did not need any
connections. It would be best to just
let Emilie throw herself at him without catching her.
Supper was a
joyless affair. No one spoke much,
though Emilie kept giving him eyes over her food. He chose to ignore her. Elisabeth kept her eyes down and picked at
her food, excusing herself a few minutes into the meal. Relena watched him with the eyes of a child,
interested in him as something new, not something sexual. an>Fan>Father Mounette offered a prayer at the
beginning of the meal, but then fell to silently eating.
“So,” Van
Helsing felt awkward breaking the silence.
“We need to find another place to house the girls tonight.”
Relena and
Emilie said nothing and Father Mounette pressed a hand to his chin in
contemplation.
“I suppose I
could convince one of the girl’s fathers to lend us his house for a few nights. Emilie?”
“No,” she said
quickly. “My father will not allow his
house to be the sight of a possible battle.”
“Oh,” the Father
said, taken aback by her harsh tone.
“Well, uh, I suppose I’ll ask Elisabeth’s father then.”
“Do that,” Emilie
said, returning to eating.
“So, uh,
Monsieur Van Helsing, beyond putting the girls in a smaller dwelling, what is
the next part of your plan?”
“Wait,” he said
simply.
“Oh.”
Van Helsing
finished off his food. “Thank you for
the meal, Father,” he said. “Let me know
when we’ve secured a new place for the girls.”
“Oh, yes, of
course. Thank you, Monsieur.”
He returned to
his dispiriting room and lay back down to wait.
Waiting was something he absolutely hated to do, and that was why he
much preferred an assignment where he could actively hunt. Using bait and lure techniques was not his
style, he needed to hunt.
Just like an
animal, he thought.
Just like an
animal indeed. No animals laid out traps
and waited, they hunted. Tonight, he
would not be hunting. He would be
waiting. He wondered if perhaps the
Incubus would not even show, and then perhaps he would have his chance to
hunt. Where he would start looking, he
did not know. But it would be better than
this whole waiting idea.
He was not sure
if he fell asleep again, or perhaps just dozed or let his mind wander, but he
could sense dusk approaching, though of course he could not see it in his
windowless cell. Some other sense told
him of the coming of the night, and he rose slowly, hoping that Father Mounette
had not forgotten to secure Elisabeth’s house for the night, and that the girls
had already gotten themselves read mov move.
He began to gather his things.
A few more
candles had been lit in the main hall of the church, but it still managed to
maintain its gloomy atmosphere. The
girls were all sitting in the front pews, and Father Mounette was heading
towards the stairs just as Van Helsing was coming up them.
“Oh, Monsieur, I
was just about to fetch you. The girls’
things have been moved to Elisabeth’s house and the young men who have been
guarding the girls are ready to give their assistance.”
“Yeah, great,
great,” Van Helsing said with a wave of his hand. “Tell them to all go home and go to bed;
they’ll only be in my way.”
The Father was
obviously flustered, as he seemed to often be when confronted with Van
Helsing’s behavior. “But surely you need
their help?”
“I don’t need
any hindrances.”
“Well, I doubt
they would be-“
“Do what
Monsieur Van Helsing wants,” Emilie interrupted loudly, obviously
exasperated. “He is the master monster
slayer after all.”
“Well, I, I
suppose that’s true… I’ll just go, uh, give the message then. You all get moved.” Father Mounette shuffled out of the church,
still mumbling to himself about something.
“So you’re going
to put us all in Elisabethouseouse and use us as bait for the Incubus, then?”
Emilie asked, smirking. “And all by yourself?
You seem almost too confident.”
“I think he’s
very brave,” Relena said softly, sending an abashed smile at Van Helsing. Somehow, he could not help but grin back, for
hers was the smile of a child. Emilie
heaved an exaggerated sigh.
“Well? Shall we go then? It certainly isn’t getting any brighter
outside.”
Wordless, Van
Helsing shouldered his crossbow and strode down the aisle towards the church’s
door, the girls scurrying after him, obviously afraid to be left alone. Elisabeth’s house was small and plain, and it
would work well, as it had no eaves that would serve to conceal hunting demons. He herded the girls inside.
“Now we just
wait,” he said, grinning humorlessly at the assembled women. “Rest if you wish, whatever you want, I don’t
care as long as you don’t leave this room.”
Relena bobbed
her head in eager agreement to his words, Elisabeth nodded in acknowledgement,
and Emilie gave another deep, fake sigh.
Van Helsing shut the door.
Outside, the sun
was still barely showing in the sky, but as soon as the fiery red orb dipped
fully below the horizon, darkness would quickly spread and claim the
world. Darkness was his time; it was the
demon’s time and so it was also his.
Van Helsing
settled down to wait.
To be continued…
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