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Acquainted With The Night	By : KatrisAlana Category: S through Z > Van Helsing Views: 3323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Acquainted With The Night
- 2-Ch. 2
- 1
- 2
Acquainted With the Night
�Incubus� Part 2
By Shawna
A/N: My thanks to evilspoofauthor1Sven
for informing me of an apparent interview in
which Stephen Sommers said that the character in the movie is in fact Abraham
Van Helsing�s younger brother, Gabriel. While one part of me screams �What
nonsense!� another part goes with it, because I like the name Gabriel better.
X3 Also, I saw the �Van Helsing: The London Assignment� animated prequel, which
was actually pretty cool, and Van Helsing introduces himself as Gabriel in it. So yeah. Gabriel it is, then.

Watching the
moon rise to its zenith, and then begin to melt back towards the horizon made
Van Helsing acutely aware of the night bleeding past him, with no sign of
either of the demons. He was sitting in
the cleft of two branches in a tree by the house the girls were in, giving
himself a good line of sight should anything come towards the house. He wondered if perhaps neither of the demons
would show, if maybe they were even afraid of him. It was perfectly possible that demons were as
aware of him as were the humans.
Perfectly possible that they were afraid.
Don�t flatter
yourself, Gabriel, he thought. Don�t
get too confident.
Letting himself
get too cocky would lower his awareness, and this he could not afford. He always made sure he kept his emotional
distance from the people involved with all of his cases, but that did not mean
he liked to see any of them hurt or killed.
All of the girls in the house were people; all of them had others who
loved them. He did not want to see any
of them lost to the Incubus. Death from
an Incubi or Succubae was one of the worst ways to go, he knew. A woman impregnated by an Incubus would give
birth only a week or two later, and she would die bearing the child. Human women always gave birth to little
Incubi, who, though small at birth, had the sharp fangs and claws of their
adult forms and were dangerous and fully capable of caring for themselves. A man who slept with a Succubus would pant
his last breath as soon as he climaxed, and as of yet, no one could account for
why this was so. Most believed that the
Succubae were poisoned on the inside and any human coming into contact with this
would be killed by it. But none knew for
sure, it was just the way things were.
Just as with human women, the incubation period was normally about ten
days, and then the Succubus would give birth to a little Succubus, who would
grow to adult form in under a year and begin the process again. Considering their amazing proliferation rate,
it would seem to be a wonder that their race was struggling so, but people had
become acutely aware of these demons and there was no special trick to killing
them. An arrow through the heart, a
sword through the gut, anything that would kill a man would kill an Incubus or
Succubus. People learned this quickly
and made effective use of it.
Something moved
in the tree behind him. He heard a
branch crack, and a second later his dagger was in his hand and he had whirled
around. Fog crept among the branches; an
owl that had been perched in the tree took to the air with a frightened
squawk. Nothing more. Had he just heard the owl landing?
Before he could
even dismiss this thought, a boot came out of the darkness, sailing towards his
face, and he moved to dodge but was not quick enough and the kick hit him hard,
sending him flying out of the tree. Even
as his back was rushing towards the ground, his hands were throwing his dagger
at the flit of movement he saw in the tree, but obviously flying backwards and
down was not conducive to good aiming and he heard the knife sink into the
trunk of the tree and high-pitched laughter filled the air.
He hit the ground
hard, knocking all of the wind out of his lungs. He gasped for air, struggled to sit up and
get his other dagger out of his boot.
Before he could do so, a weight dropped onto his chest, and he gasped
again. Normally, this weight would not
have affected him at all, but having just had his breath knocked out of him, a
weight on his chest was the last thing he needed.
�Relax, Van
Helsing.� The voice that spoke was
silky-smooth and certainly female, and Van Helsing found himself staring up at
the corset-clad torso of a fair-skinned, blonde-haired Succubus. She was immediately recognizable as such due
to the presence of two curved horns emerging from the top of her head, as well
as the pair of maroon-colored bat wings that sprouted from her back. Her fair hair was voluminous, and fell just
past her shoulders; her purple eyes glittered as she looked down at him. Her breasts were large, and thinly veiled by
a gossamer shirt. Below her waist she
wore only black panties with pink ribbons and stockings which, of course, were
in plain sight. In spite of himself, Van
Helsing felt a stirring low in his stomach, and it would seem the Succubus was
aware of his feelings, for a smile slowly suffused her face and she licked her
coral lips, pressing her hands against his chest as she slid herself lower on
his body, to just below his waist, but still slightly above his burgeoning
erection.
�Shall I move
lower?� She asked suggestively, her fingers caressing his chest, undoing the
clasps on his shirt. �I want to. Don�t you want me to?�
He reached up
and gripped her shoulders and her eyes went wide with excitement as he flipped
her off of him, pushing her onto her back beside him and rolling over on top of
her. She writhed beneath him, laughing.
�Oh, I like it rough.� Her voice was full of lust. �Are you going to be rough with me Gabriel?�
�Quite rough,�
he said, his hand going surreptitiously to his boot and withdrawing his other
dagger. The creature beneath him was
beautiful, unearthly, exotic, but evil.
She wanted to have sex with him, but only to kill him and then further
her species. She looked young, like a
human girl of seventeen or eighteen years, but was probably much older. Death was what he would give her.
�Gabriel,� she said
tenderly. �You�re gorgeous, Gabriel.� She reached up, placing a hand on either side
of his face, running one of her thumbs across his bottom lip. He looked down into her eyes and it hit him:
gorgeous, she was gorgeous. Her purple
eyes were bright, clear, sparkling; her lips pinkish red and moist and
appealing; her breasts were perfectly round, rising and falling gently with her
breath; her skin was alabaster in the moonlight. Slackly parted, her lips were like an
invitation to ecstasy; to passion and desire and every fantasy he had ever
had. She was getting closer to him, she
was sitting up, he thought, and then realized she was drawing him down and he
was letting her. Suddenly, her lips were
so close to his, he could feel her warm breath.
Those ethereal purple eyes were staring right into his, dancing with
lust and excitement, urging him forward, telling him, just with their look,
that she wanted him, had to have him; telling him to take her.
To his surprise,
it was he who closed the gap between their lips. Her warm breath, her beckoning eyes, the
curves of her body beneath him; it was all too much and he had to catch her
lips with his own. Almost immediately,
he pressed his tongue into her mouth and was delighted with the sweet taste,
the satiny smoothness of her. Her
breasts were soft and inviting under his chest, he lifted himself up on one
elbow to give his other hand access to them.
Her mouth broke from his; she was moaning as he cupped her breast and
teased her nipple hard with his thumb. He
moved his mouth down to her silky neck, running his tongue along the bottom of
her jaw line, reveling in the perfection of her skin.
But something
was not right. As soon as he realized
this, he also realized what it was.
Their eyes had never broken contact, even as he moved his head down
towards her neck, he was still looking up into her eyes, she was looking down
at him. Her beautiful purple eyes,
staring down at him, wanting him, submitting to him. This was the problem. Van Helsing closed his eyes.
Revulsion rushed
up in his stomach, complete disgust and not with the creature below him, who he
still acknowledged was beautiful, but with himself, for falling for her mind
tricks, for staring into her eyes for so long and letting her drip the idea of
her beauty and perfection right into his mind.
The reality of what she was and the danger she posed had been swept away
by her beautiful lies. She had drawn him
in, ensnared him, however briefly, and this fact made him feel slightly sick.
At some point he
had dropped his dagger, he did not remember doing it now, but one of his hands
was holding him up and the other was caressing the Succubus�s breast and his
dagger was nowhere to be found. Somewhat
reluctantly, despite her hold on him being broken, he removed his hand from her
breast and lowered himself back down onto her.
�Gabriel?� Her
voice was innocently questioning, still lustful. �Why aren�t you looking at
me? Don�t you think I�m beautiful? Look at me, Gabriel.�
So convincing,
so desperate was her voice that he almost did look back at her, but just as he
considered doing this, his searching hand found the hilt of his dagger on the
ground beside them and he gripped it firmly and rediscovered his resolution. He took a deep breath, prepared to drive the
dagger into the beautifully wicked being underneath him.
�Van Helsing!�
This was
Elisabeth�s voice; it came from inside the house and was definitely in a
panic.
The Succubus
screeched, her purple eyes blazing and before he could finish his intent with
the dagger, she had gripped him beneath the arms and tossed him off of her with
the unearthly strength of the demon she was.
Like a cat, she sprang to her feet and broke into a run, trying to give
lift to her flapping wings. Van Helsing
drew his crossbow, took aim, and let an arrow fly, but the Succubus took to the
air and dodged, flying straight up, and shortly disappearing into the night sky
with a frustrated shriek.
�Van Helsing!�
Elisabeth screamed again and he bolted into the house, readying another arrow
as he crashed through the door.
Elisabeth let
out another screech when he burst in, pointing an arrow at her head. Instinctively, she ducked, cowering in a
corner of the room. Besides her, the
room was silent and empty.
�What�s the
problem?� He demanded, and then it hit him: the room was empty. That was the problem. Emilie and Relena were not there. Elisabeth spoke, echoing his thoughts.
�Relena and
Emilie are gone! I was asleep, right
here,� she motioned to one of the three cots that had been brought into the
room for the girls to sleep on, �and when I woke up just now, they were
gone! I heard nothing! The Incubus must have taken them!� She was in a near panic, and Van Helsing
returned his bow to its place on his back, and approached her with his palms
up.
�Elisabeth, it�s
all right,� he said, trying to speak soothingly as he reached her, placing his
hands on her shoulders. �I�ll go right
now and look for them.�
�No!� Tears were
coursing down her cheeks now. �The
Incubus has probably already defiled both of them! If you find them now, you�ll have no choice
but to kill them! They�ll both have to
die!�
Van Helsing said
nothing, instead drawing Elisabeth against him in an awkward embrace, trying to
comfort her. Relena walked nonchalantly
in through the back door. Elisabeth�s
mouth fell open and Van Helsing could only stare.
�What?� She
asked innocently, and then suddenly she was smothered by Elisabeth.
�Thank God!�
Elisabeth sobbed. �I thought the Incubus
had taken you and Emilie! Thank God
you�re all right!�
�Where were
you?� Van Helsing asked sternly. �I told
you not to leave this room.�
�Oh,� a light
blush settled onto Relena�s cheeks. �I�m
so sorry, Monsieur, but I had to, er, powder my nose� you understand��
He rolled his
eyes and decided to ignore what she had said.
�Was Emilie with you?�
Relena�s eyes
went to the empty middle cot. �She was here
asleep when I left, just a few minutes ago.�
�Well, she�s
gone now!� Elisabeth cried needlessly, still looking on the brink of tears.
�Where did she
go?� Relena asked innocently, and Van Helsing had the urge to slap his hand to
his forehead.
�We don�t know,�
he said through gritted teeth, forcing himself to keep his patience with the
child-like Relena. �We were hoping you
did, but since you don�t, I would think something took her.�
�Something?�
Relena�s voice was fearful. �You mean
the Incubus?�
�Yes,� Van
Helsing replied simply. �I�m going to go
look for her, you two go back to the church and find Father Mounette.�
�What if the
Incubus comes for us?� Elisabeth demanded.
�What then? And what about the
Succubus? What if she�s currently
getting herself pregnant with one of the men in town?�
�She�s not.�
�How do you
know?� Relena asked thoughtfully.
Answering would
incriminate him in some way, so instead of doing that, Van Helsing turned on
his heel and left the house. �Go to the
church,� he called over his shoulder, taking his crossbow off his back again.
�Van Helsing!�
Elisabeth called harshly to him, running to catch up with his quick
stride. �Van Helsing, wait! Don�t leave us alone!�
He whirled on Elisabeth, startling her,
causing her to almost fall over backwards.
�Shall I let Emilie die then?
Shall I just forget about her and not look for her? Shall we wait for her to stumble back into
town, ready to give birth to a monster?�
Elisabeth bit her lip and did not respond,
averting her gaze from his. He turned
around again, striding quickly down onto the nearby beach, for some reason
feeling this would be a good place to start looking. He whispered a quick prayer that he would be
on time to save Emilie.
The waves
crashed on the rocky beach, roaring gently in the early morning air. The sun was just beginning to touch the
eastern horizon, casting gray-pink light across the sky, giving the world a
very clean, new appearance, but Van Helsing somehow knew he was going to find
something he did not want to see in this beautiful, fresh morning light.
�Emilie?� He
called. �Emilie!�
Something was
flitting on a large, sharp-edged beach rock, unveiled by the low tide. Something fiery red. Drawing closer to it he could see it was a
shred of the vibrantly colored dress Emilie had been wearing. A lead weight seemed to drop into Van
Helsing�s stomach; a heavy and suffocating fear that he was probably too
late.
This is your
fault.
This thought
came into his head suddenly and made him feel sick, for it was the truth. While he had been playing with the Succubus,
the Incubus had slipped past him and taken one of the girls who was supposed to
be under his care. Anything that
happened to her was his fault and his responsibility. He cursed himself for a fool, for half a man
for allowing himself to be so easily drawn into a demon�s wiles, and at the
same time said another prayer in his mind that he might find Emilie all right,
as unlikely as that seemed now.
He rounded a
corner on the beach, moving around an outcropping of rocks, and was confronted
with what he had been desperately hoping not to see. Emilie was lying naked on her back on the
sand, her breasts heaving, her legs wrapped tightly around the waist of a
black-haired, winged figure crouched between her legs, pumping into her
furiously. She was crying out in sheer
ecstasy, her eyes closed and her mouth hanging open. Her fingers dug into the earth as the Incubus
atop her groaned, shuddering all over, and Van Helsing knew he was too late to
save her.
�Emilie!� He
cried, not knowing how else to interrupt the scene before him. Her eyes opened, and she looked at him with a
drunken smile and waved. The Incubus
darted back, away from her, his blazing red eyes regarding Van Helsing with a
mix of malice and triumph.
�You�re too
late, monster slayer,� the Incubus said, his voice low and sultry, his thick
black hair bouncing around his face.
�I�ve filled her with my seed.�
Enraged, Van
Helsing raised his crossbow and fired and the Incubus barely had time to roll
out of the way. His roll set him into a
crouch, and from there he snarled and lunged at Van Helsing, claws sprouting
from his fingertips. Van Helsing stepped
back, braced for the impact even as he caught hold of the Incubus�s wrists,
keeping the talons just inches from his face.
The creature growled, bent its knees, and then lifted its arms hard,
taking Van Helsing off the ground and flipping him over the Incubus�s back. He hit the ground hard and immediately rolled
to his feet, his dagger drawn and ready and then it was he who lunged, but the
Incubus used his own technique against him and caught him by the wrists to hold
him back.
�It is not yet time to kill you, Gabriel,�
the demon said, drawing Van Helsing closer to him. �You still have something that I want.� His breath fanned across Van Helsing�s face,
and it smelled at the same time sweet and fetid. The creature pressed its body against
Gabriel�s, and this took him by surprise and he tried to pull back, but could
not for the demon�s vice-like grip. The
sweet, dank breath floated over his face again and then the demon�s thin, faintly
forked tongue traced along the bottom of his jaw-line and he shuddered all
over.
�We�ll meet
again,� the Incubus whispered, brushing his lips against Van Helsing�s
ear. Then he threw him violently down,
and Gabriel found himself on his back on the ground for the third time in the
past hour, with a demon disappearing into the sky above him.
�Isn�t he
wonderful?�
Van Helsing
turned towards this voice, to see Emilie still lying on her back in the sand,
apparently unashamed of her nakedness and obviously not in complete possession
of her senses. With a stroke of anguish,
Van Helsing realized what he would have to do.
�Yes,� he agreed
softly, sitting up and sliding towards her.
�Yes, wonderful.� His dagger was
still clutched in his hand.
�Why don�t you
make love to me now, too?� She asked with a giggle. �I wanted you to, you know.�
�Yes, I know,�
he said, gripping his dagger firmly.
�Forgive me, Emilie.�
She was still
smiling her drunken smile. �For what?�
It was a swift
motion. One moment he was sitting up
beside her on the beach, and the next he had buried his dagger to the hilt in
her chest. Her back arched, she coughed
and blood oozed out of her mouth. Agony
filled her eyes, tears spilled down her cheeks.
�Wh-why?� She
choked, but before he could answer, if indeed he had tried to answer, her eyes
rolled up into her head and she collapsed back onto the sand, her last breath
leaving her. Van Helsing crossed himself
and willed her soul to God.
Father Mounette
was waiting for him back in town, and when he saw the coat-less Van Helsing,
carrying a form wrapped in said garment, his face fell. He crossed himself and walked solemnly to
meet Van Helsing.
�You were not in
time to save Emilie, then?� The Father asked softly.
�No,� Van Helsing replied simply. �Father, I-�
�No explanation
is needed, dear boy,� Father Mounette said.
�I just appreciate your efforts.
Please, take the body into the church so we might prepare it for a
proper burial.�
Wordlessly, Van
Helsing did as requested.
The late
afternoon found him back in his dismal room in the church, lying wide-awake on
his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had
been in this position since that morning, after giving the body of Emilie to
Relena to prepare for a funeral. He
could not stop blaming himself for what had happened to her, for getting
distracted by the Succubus. He had a
chance to kill each of the demons and had failed to do so both times, costing
the life of Emilie and likely more lives that night, unless he could put aside
what happened and not make the same mistakes twice.
I don�t make
the same mistakes twice, he thought.
Tonight, nothing will stop me.
I will kill those demons and make sure no one else has to die for my
shortcomings.
This was certainly not the first time
someone had been killed by a creature he was hunting, but it had the same
affect as the first time. It never got
any easier to feel responsible for the death of a fellow human being; never got
easier to know that had he been just slightly faster or stronger or whatever,
he could have saved a life or lives. He
must get stronger, he must get faster and better and what he was supposed to
do. He could not keep allowing people to
die on his watch.
�Monsieur?�
In his contemplation, he had not even heard
the door open, and now he turned, a bit startled, to see Relena standing in his
doorway, looking at him shyly. The
candlelight was more flattering on her than had been the dull sunlight that had
been shining the first time he saw her.
Her black dress was rather loose and unbecoming and yet there were hints
of a beautiful body beneath it. A few
wisps of her blonde hair stuck out from under the adornment on her head, the
typical headdress of a woman of God.
�Come in, Relena,� he said softly.
She did so,
closing the door behind her, which struck him as slightly odd but he dismissed
it as nothing. In her hands were a
lightly steaming bowl and a wooden cup filled with what could only be plain
water.
�I thought you
might be hungry, Monsieur, so I brought you some soup and a drink. It will be getting dark soon; I imagine
you�ll need your strength��
�Yes, thank you,
Relena,� he said, sitting up to accept the bowl and cup. He expected her to leave when he had taken
these things, but instead she merely stood beside his bed, watching him
expectantly.
He cleared his
throat. �You can sit if you�re going to
be staying a while,� he said, motioning to the other side of the bed. To his surprise, she seated herself right
next to him, her legs almost touching his.
�Monsieur, I
wanted to make sure you were not blaming yourself for what happened. I�m sure you did nothing wrong, and I know
you tried your best to save her��
�I did do something
wrong,� he said, setting the bowl and cup down on the small desk, having barely
touched the contents of either but having no appetite. �I did something very wrong and it might have
been what caused Emilie�s death.�
Relena raised
her eyebrows questioningly but said nothing, asked nothing of him. This was a refreshing surprise, as he knew
most people would demand an answer after a comment like his, would demand an
answer and a reason to blame him. Relena
was seeking neither of these things.
�Monsieur,� she
said softly, placing a hand on his face and turning him to face her. �I think you�re very brave and I thank you
very much for being here. Don�t blame
yourself at all for what happened.�
Her words were
so comforting, her touch was so cool and soft.
She was so very close to him. He
wanted to feel better, needed something to comfort himself.
This is a
woman of God, he reminded himself. A
virgin, a nun. Don�t disgrace God by
defiling one of His subjects.
Her pale coral
lips were so close. His eyes searched
hers, looking for resistance, but finding only apprehension but also, an
eagerness. He leaned forward very slowly, she leaned back slightly but not quickly enough to
stop him from pressing his lips gently to hers.
She went tense all over but did not pull back any further or try to push
him away. He trailed one of his hands up
her arm, slid it along her neck and cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her
head back as he leaned in closer to her.
He traced the line between her tightly closed lips with his tongue,
coaxing her to open her mouth to him.
Hesitantly, she did so, moaning a bit as he slipped his tongue into her
warm, smooth mouth. She tasted sweet,
familiar�
She broke her
mouth from his. �Oh, Monsieur,� she
looked on the verge of tears. �Oh, oh, I
shouldn�t Monsieur-�
Van Helsing took
his hands off of her, held them up palms out.
�You�re right,� he said, going against all his carnal instincts. �You should go, Relena. You�re absolutely free to go.�
She stared at
him, her dull-colored eyes shining brightly, brimming with tears. Neither of them spoke; she breathed in
slowly, out huskily. She licked her
lips.
�Oh, God forgive
me,� she said, and then threw her arms around Gabriel and pressed her lips back
to his. His surprise lasted only a
moment, and then his arms went around her too, his fingers going immediately
for the lacings on the back of her dress, undoing them quickly, deftly. He drew her tighter against him, turning around
slowly so he could press her down onto the bed.
He drew back from her, her mouth reluctantly releasing his tongue. He stared down at her for a moment, lying on
her back on this small bed in the basement of a church, a woman of God about to
be desecrated. Her eyes were all alight, her breath was quick and husky, her face
flushed. Her dress was unlaced and he
gripped her wrist cuffs and pulled, the dress sliding off her body, revealing
her flesh to the candlelight.
She was
beautiful beneath her clothes; slender from lack of rich foods, but softly
rounded from not having done any hard labor in her life. Her breasts were pert, her rose-pink nipples
already hard. A light sheen of sweat
covered her despite the room�s chill.
�You�re
beautiful, Relena,� he whispered, making her smile at him, that lovely innocent
smile. He drew off his shirt before
descending on her, claiming her lips again, caressing her tongue with his own. Somehow, it did not occur to him to remove
her headdress.
He kissed his way
down her neck, reveling in her satiny skin, but what he found between her
breasts sent a chill through his body.
It was a silver crucifix on a thin chain, another mark of her status. Quickly, before the sight should kill his
ardor, he broke the chain and dropped the necklace onto the ground beside the
bed, and then returned to his ministrations.
He blew gently
on her left nipple and her breath caught in anticipation, and when he flicked
his tongue out to caress her, she moaned loudly. He traced circles around her nipple, and then
licked it lightly a few times, teasing her until she drew his head down, making
him take it into his mouth. He sucked
hard for a moment; she writhed beneath him, and then he switched to the other
side, bringing his hand up to the breast his mouth had so recently left.
�Oh, Monsieur,�
she panted. �Oh, God.�
In spite of
himself, he smiled, enjoying the affect he had on the girl beneath him in the
bed. His great experience juxtaposed to
her complete lack thereof was surely overwhelming her, and he found a primal
pride in the fact that he would probably be her best, likely her only, and
definitely her first.
His hand left
her breast, traced down her flat stomach and slipped between her legs. She cried out, twisting her hands into the
thin blankets, panting hard. He stroked
her most sensitive spot gently, but her face contorted with pain and she
whimpered.
�My hands are
rough,� he said apologetically. �I know
what you�ll like better.�
She looked down
at him questioningly, but before she could ask he ran his lips down her
stomach, following the same path his hand had.
Relena pressed her hands to her face, biting her thumb to stifle a cry
as he moved his tongue against her, caressing, flicking, rubbing
gently. She twisted on the bed, moaning,
panting, sweating, flushed with heat.
She tasted sweet even here, her whole body seeming to be sugar-coated. It seemed as though it had been forever since
he had last been with a woman, and it had been a great deal of time since he
had had a woman this beautiful; a woman who was pure and untouched before him.
It did not take
long, as he had expected it would not.
She sucked in a breath and held it, he quickened his motions and then
she tensed all over, quivering, her back arching. She gave a cry of sheer ecstasy as all her
breath escaped her and she collapsed back onto the mattress, breathing hard and
fast.
�Oh, Monsieur,�
she panted lightly. �Oh�� She seemed incapable of saying anything else,
so while she basked in the afterglow, he removed his pants and then stretched
back out atop her, leveling his face with hers.
�Relena,� he
said fondly, looking down at the girl he was about to turn into a woman. �This might hurt a bit, but try to
relax. I will hurt you as little as I
can.�
Apprehension
crept back into her eyes, but she nodded, writhing beneath him to urge him
on. �Please go slow,� she said
softly. �Be gentle��
He smiled
reassuringly at her, pressing himself against her, feeling her wet, warm
entrance and he wanted so badly to bury himself in her, to lose himself, but he
forced himself to maintain control and entered her slowly. Her eyes screwed shut, a whimper escaped her
throat and he felt the barrier within her and gave a thrust that was as soft as
he could make it and still take her.
She screamed his
name and raked her nails down his chest as he felt her break and slid the rest
of the way into her. A tear slipped from
the corner of one of her eyes, and it pained him to know she was hurt, but she
was a woman now, by his doing. He moved
slowly, experimentally, inside of her.
At first, she whimpered with pain, but as he continued, he felt her
relaxing more, the pain lessening. He
drew back, pressed back into her slowly, repeated this
motion a few times and then began to quicken his pace. Her breath came fast again,
she buried her fingernails in his shoulders but at the same time wrapped her
legs around him. She was entirely his
then; at the moment, all his.
He worked her
steadily harder and faster until he was going all out, could work her no
harder. She was writhing, twisting,
crying out beneath him, her nails drawing blood on his shoulders and back. Sweat trickled down his back, making these
scratches hurt, but the bites of pain only drove him on, heightened his overall
sensation. The woman beneath him was
beautiful, newly made, still wearing her headdress and they were making love in
the basement of a church with a single candle burning beside a tiny bed that
was creaking in protest to having such activity performed upon it. The whole scene was so taboo, so close to
blasphemy, and instead of frightening him, this excited him and he was loving every
second of what was happening.
He lost track of time; it could have been
only a few more minutes or it could have been longer, but it seemed it was all
over too fast as he felt himself approaching climax. He held back as long as he could but finally
he had to, so he buried his face in the area between her neck and shoulder,
biting into her a bit as he came. She
moaned his name in ecstasy, burying her fingers in his sweat-dampened hair.
For a few
moments, he lay limply atop her, a pleasant satisfied feeling filling him. He held his breath for a few seconds. To his surprise, Relena gripped one of his
shoulders and rolled him easily off of her, and he caught a quick glimpse of
her face, and she was sporting a very self-satisfied smile. She turned, swinging her legs over the side
of the bed, and reached for her dress, beginning to get back into it as though
nothing had just occurred.
�Relena?� He said softly.
He saw her
freeze in the middle of re-lacing her dress.
Slowly, somehow almost fearfully, she looked over her shoulder at him.
�V-Van Helsing?� She stammered, obviously alarmed by
something.
�Relena, are you
all right?�
She let out a
scream and flew off the bed, her back hitting the closed door as she stared at
him in apparent fear. Her eyes were wide
and wild, her nails biting into the door�s wood. Van Helsing was completely bewildered by her
behavior, but slowly it struck him: she must be realizing what she had done,
she had been caught in the moment and now she was back in reality and horrified
with him and herself.
This seemed to
be the case, for she slid off the door, keeping her back against the wall,
opened it, and disappeared into the hall.
Her rapid footsteps receded down the corridor.
Van Helsing
pressed his hands to his face, guilt crashing over him. What had he done? The silver crucifix he had torn from Relena�s
neck glinted in the candlelight from its position on the floor, mocking him. What had he done?

To be continued�
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Acquainted With The Night