Title: Bittersweet

Author: Melissa

Email: M

Summary: Life wasn’t some fairy tale; there was no happy ending in store for a lonely monster hunter and a beautiful princess.

Disclaimer: The characters featured in this story are not mind. They belong, if I’m correct about my copyright law, to Universal Studios. The plot is mine, as is the writing, so you may not reproduce this in any form without my expressed permission.

Author’s Note: unlike many of the pieces on this site, this is mostly a descriptive tale, with little dialogue. Just a warning for those who don’t like long descriptive pieces.

Finally entering the main tower of Castle Dracula, Anna Valerious ran to find Van Helsing, who was hopefully still alive and had succeeded, at last, at killing her undead kinsman, allowing the nine generations of the Valerious family to enter through the gates of St. Peter.

Dripping wet curls flew behind her as she rushed towards the laboratory where the match between good and evil was being waged. The antidote for the werewolf poison was clutched tightly against her chest; all her new-found hopes and dreams rested upon this small syringe. Such a fragile piece of glass, yet so utterly precious to her. She had failed to save her brother from this wolf curse but she had a real chance of saving a man who quite possibly had saved her family from eternal damnation. For that, he deserved her help but for reasons more personal to her, she also wished to save this man who she had, inexplicitly, developed an attraction to and one who was poised to give her hope for the future.

The clock doled out the time yet again, reminding her of the few precious seconds she had before Van Helsing would be lost forever to the curse of the werewolf. It wouldn’t matter if he had saved her family for in the process, he would have damned himself to never knowing his past and never getting to see what possible joys his future might have held for him.

There he was, staring at the skeleton form of Dracula, one of the most-feared evil creatures to have ever walked this earth, who was no more. Van Helsing had succeeded; had issued the final death bite. Irony at its best. Dracula, who had bitten so many, destroyed so many lives over his 450 year demonic reign, had been killed by a werewolf bite.

She couldn’t rejoice just yet. She had a monster hunter to save, one firmly in the grips of the werewolf curse. Muttering “For God” and a small prayer for strength and courage, she ran towards the brown-shagged werewolf, just as the wolf caught sight of her and leaped to claim another victim. Human thought had left the werewolf, leaving Van Helsing susceptible to the wolf’s inner nature-the desire for human flesh.

She leaped and ducked, narrowly missing the beast’s massive claws, sticking the syringe and pressing down on it, injecting its contents, before rolling away from the beast as it crashed into the red-cushioned seat. She hit the stone wall hard, her aching body protesting the further cruel torment inflicted upon her already wounded flesh. Darkness called and she willingly went, if only for a brief respite from the increasing pain radiating in her skull.

Just after the princess lost conscious, Carl came rushing into the main room, his brown Church robes fluttering about him and his hair plastered to his forehead. The first thing he saw was the towering back of the werewolf. No Anna. Fear threatened to overcome him but he had made a promise a man he respected and because of that, he would act in the way commanded to him. Muttering a quick prayer to God to forgive him, he rushed forward, gripping the silver stake in his right hand, ready to perform the deed Van Helsing had instructed him to do if all else failed, much to his everlasting sorrow. Van Helsing had become one of the very creatures he had for so long fought against to preserve humanity. This was Van Helsing’s reward for his sacrifices to humanity: to die as one of the things he had hunted.

Just before Carl was about to deliver the final blow, the beast spun quickly, gripping the friar’s arm and pointing with black eyes full of sorrow and remorse downwards to where the empty syringe protruded form the beast’s belly.

Carl’s relief was palpable; joyous at the princess’ apparent success, thankful to God for the success of the mission. His eyes widened at the sight of Van Helsing’s transformation from beast to man, staring somewhat stupidly at the barely-clothed man standing before him now.

With the rise in pain, Anna surmised that she was still alive and was once again conscious. Carefully pushing herself into a sitting position, she leaned against the scold stone wall for support and cursed at the headache the night’s battles had resulted in. She brushed aside damp curls that had fallen into her eyes, wincing at the knots and tangles that was her mass of hair. Blinking slowly, her vision slowly focused on the scene in front of her. Van Helsing had recovered his human form and Carl was looking somewhat stupefied at the monster hunter. A groan from her as she sat up further alerted them to her presence on the far side of the room.

Van Helsing turned and a small smile appeared on his face as he took in the sight of her. His brown eyes, so expressive, thanked her for her help at defeating his inner, or was it outer, beast. A small smile filtered across her face in response, joy ready to run rampant at the success of the night’s battle. Carl just looking on, still somewhat amazed that they had all survived the battle.

She gratefully took Van Helsing’s proffered hand, glad that he was wise enough not to make any comment about her current weakness. When she was on her feet, he let go and as she slightly stumbled, still wobbly on her feet, he put a sweat and dirt-stained arm around her waist to support her. Not used to being treated so, she welcomed the gesture and leaned into his chest, breathing in the musty smell of him, sweat and dirt and blood mixing with his natural odour. His chest was strong and muscular but much softer still than the stone wall had been, and she took advantage of their current position to enjoy the feeling of leaning against the barely-clad man while resting her sore body.

The cold of the castle and the dampness of herself and Carl from the outside storm soon encouraged them to leave Dracula’s icy fortress. What had once Dracula’s safe haven was now the site of his ultimate demise. His father had banished his demonic son here and they had finally succeeded in bringing about the destruction of Dracula. They walked slower than usual, each deep in their own thoughts, as well as each nursing their own injuries. At some point, without anyone really knowing when, the Frankenstein creation had joined them, having survived his confrontation with Aleera but looking a little worse for the wear after the night’s long battle.

Soon they were back at the icy portal mirror that had granted them access to this icy realm.

“Any clue how to get back?” Carl inquired, feeling unsure as to just how to get back to the Valerious manor since they lacked the wings Dracula and his brides had happened to possess in their bat forms. It begged the question to just how Dracula had managed to transport all the laboratory equipment from Castle Frankenstein to this barren wasteland, along with his non-flying minions and Frankenstein.

“I think we just walk through,” Anna replied, reaching out to stick a hand through the deceptive door. Her hand went through and she feeling the cool air of the family manor before pulling her hand back through the door.

Carl briefly wondered how that worked when it hadn’t worked before when he had tried. Maybe with Dracula’s destruction, the veil between this realm and the Valerious manor was beginning to crumble. Perhaps this “door” would soon be nothing more than a map on the wall of the Valerious manor, locking away its secret realm forever more.

It didn’t matter, not really, to Carl’s other companions why they could enter the door. They just did, with Van Helsing going first, then Anna, followed by Carl and Frankenstein last. The Valerious manor was empty. In the time that had passed, the once warm manor had cooled considerably. Outside night still raged and the clock had yet to strike one. The world was quiet and dark; the brilliant silver-white moon hidden behind navy clouds, a light snow, white and pure, was falling. Besides the few drunken villagers that wandered the empty and desolate streets, the village was quiet, locked in sleep by gift of the Sandman, ignorant that the curse that had hunted the Valerious, and consequently the village, had ceased to exist. A light layer of fresh snow covered the ground, creating an enchanting illusion of peace and innocent. Perhaps the illusion wasn’t quite so inaccurate as one might think it was. Dracula was dead; the last of his brides also dead. The haunted village was no more; fear and hopelessness, which had been allowed to reign unchecked for centuries would soon lose their hold, allowing hope and joy to reign in their stead once more.

For Anna, joy and hope had been robbed from her as her family had been picked off one by one by Dracula. First her mother had perished, then her father and, lastly, her only brother. The need to make her ancestors and her own family proud, to free them from purgatory had long been her goal, her destiny. Dreams of a husband and children had slowly vanished with each loss, until it had become apparent that her only hope was to defeat Dracula before dying herself. Thus had been her mindset and now with Dracula gone, her family restored in God’s eyes, she was left alone. She had no purpose to give her comfort; no goal to strive for. Her life’s mission had been accomplished, all by the time she was twenty-five. Which left an aching hollow in her heart, an emptiness that she hadn’t expected to feel with the final destruction of Dracula and yet this feeling remained.

Her face, she knew wouldn’t betray her inner thoughts and feelings but as her eyes met Van Helsing’s, she knew he could read the emptiness that lingered in her soul. She gave him a small smile, the best she could manage, and mumbled something about finding dry clothes and getting some sleep. She could feel his eyes on her retreating form as she fled the study, seeking the solace her room offered.

With the door firmly shut and a growing fire in the fireplace to chase away the night’s chill, she undressed, happy to escape the damp clothing sticking uncomfortably to her body. An ivory nightgown was donned, one of her few indulges. Its soft silk material lightly drifted to the ground, flowing just so. It wasn’t the most appropriate nightwear for the season but it felt cool and soothing on her battered body and eased, in an odd way, some of the aching in her heart.

At the chair facing her vanity, the wood a dark chestnut colour, she combed through the tangled mess the rain had reduced her hair to, wincing at the pain which accompanied this unpleasant task. Peering into the mirror, she tried to look for any differences in her appearance. No major changes that she noticed except for the subtle lost look in her eyes that had taken up residence in place of her fierce courage. In the end, it had been Van Helsing who had saved her family and while she had in turn saved him, the feeling was different that if she had been the one responsible for Dracula’s demise.

Next to her bed stood a small wooden night-table, with a candle and a picture decorating its top. Picking up the picture frame carefully, she gazed at it, gently running her fingertips lightly over the family portrait taken so many years ago, before the annihilation of her family. Tears welled up in her eyes and she curled up on the bed, clutching the photo to her chest. Tears for her mother, her father, and her brother-for their lives that had been ended too soon and for leaving her alone to face an uncertain future, fell unchecked. For her ancestors who had given their lives bravely; for all that had been lost in this centuries long battle. For Van Helsing, the man with no past who had been given but glimpses and never answers into his unknown past. For Carl, for being a brave friar in the face of overwhelming danger and who had lost whatever little innocence he had still possessed by the damnation of an innocent creature by the men he had devoted his life towards serving. But mostly she wept for herself; for everyone she had already lost and for what she would soon lose. No matter how she felt about the strong monster hunter, Van Helsing too had a destiny and it was one that didn’t involve a gypsy princess’s love. He would leave; go off to rid the world of present and future evil, perhaps one day finding the answers about his past that he sought.

But he wouldn’t be hers; of that much she was certain. They never stood a chance; destiny and fate had seen to that. And no matter how hard they kicked and screamed, they truly had no choice in the matter. Life wasn’t some fairy tale; there was no happy ending in store for a lonely monster hunter and a beautiful princess. No happily-ever-after to this tale, it would seem, and, in truth, she had long outgrown those tales. She couldn’t help but wish that reality wasn’t like it. All the dreams and hopes she had felt at Castle Dracula were nothing more than the fanciful desires of a girl who just wanted to be loved.

Thus the beautiful gypsy princess cried for what had been and what would never be, wishing her mother was still alive to comfort her like she had when Anna was just a little girl, innocent still to all the evil that existed in the world. Hugging her close, her mother would tell her of fairy tales and happily-ever-afters, giving unconditional love in the times of need. And, curled up into a small bundle, exhausted physically and emotionally, Anna finally slept, dreaming of a beautiful future with Van Helsing that had no chance of becoming a reality.

Quietly, slowly, the oak door of Anna’s room crept open and the legendary monster hunter snuck into the princess’s room, having listened to Anna’s soft weeping, wanting to comfort her but knowing not how to, realizing that his presence would only hinder her grieving process. Add that to the fact the he would be leaving tomorrow, he knew this was something she had to work through herself.

His gaze fell upon the curled-up form of the lovely princess. Goosebumps dotted her exposed skin, the sleeveless ivory shift barely adequate protection against the cool night. The once burning brightly fire had died down to black-red embers, orange and red ones among the blackened wood. Seeing this, he went to rekindle the dying fire.

Stalking quietly over to the four-poster bed, he gazed once more at the young sleeping woman’s now peaceful face with dried tear tracks still lingering on her pale cheeks. He gently removed the portrait of her family from her slack fingers. Gathering the red wool blanket left folded upon the wooden chest at the end of the bed, he laid it gently across her sleeping form. Brushing aside a stray curl from her forehead, he bent down and placed a soft kiss upon that spot, murmuring “sweet dreams, princess” into her ear.

Straightening up, his gaze once more focused on Anna’s deceptively peaceful appearance. He knew full well that this peaceful façade belied her inner feelings of turmoil. He could only speculate but he suspected that she was feeling more than a bit lost, her main goal in life accomplished but not even by her hand. She had repaid the gesture in full by risking her life to save his but he knew it wasn’t the same.

And despite all Anna’s courage and fierce determination, she was left alone to enjoy the spoils of victory. Everyone she had ever loved and cared about had died all the way of this seemingly never-ending battle. While the end of Dracula meant that her family could finally be at rest, she herself was not, torn apart by feelings of guilt for surviving, and anger for their leaving of her alone to face an uncertain future. Perhaps he had been right in saying that it was worse to remember all those that you had lost than to merely lack any memory of one’s past. Did it make for a more uncomplicated existence or was that just a way for him to ease his own burden at the expense of her’s?

He turned to walk away, to leave the princess to her dreams. Hopefully to dreams unburdened by darkness but filling with hopes and joys for tomorrow. It was all that once could really ever hope for in this complicated world. Life would never be burden-free and always full of happiness but that didn’t mean that the hardships faced should cloud the realm of dreams. He hoped that Anna would find some peace, if only in her dreams.

Just as he was about to finally walk away, he was stopped by a gentle pressure of a hand on his arm and a single plea of “stay.” He turned to see Anna blinking sleepily at him from her prone position. Her eyes pleaded with him to help her to forget, to find some solace and peace, if only for one night.

His mind debated the wiseness of choosing this path but staying had its own problems, even for just one night. It was like a hollow or empty promise-one that could lead to so much heartbreak. But his heart overruled his brain, as was usual when we see people in pain. If not for him then for her-to give back some of the love and innocence she had lost.

There could be no happy ending; that much he knew and he knew that Anna must have known the same depressing truth. Each had a destiny, a distinct destiny that had for a brief period of time converged into a single goal but now destiny had to diverge back onto its original course. Anna’s destiny had, to a large extent, already been accomplished and decided; his was far form over and he accepted the truth of that easily although it caused a slight heartache at the thought of leaving the beautiful princess alone in this large empty manor, without family or friends. Only villagers would remain and they were sure to rebel against an unmarried and heirless female now that the danger had passed.

In the end, he took her outstretched hand, accepted her soft plea because, when it came down to decisions like these, he was only a man, full of human fragilities and human desires. He was a man who wanted something to remember her by. Selfish reasons, he knew, but in the end all we are is largely composed of our selfish motives. Even the most seemingly altruistic act has selfish motives behind it; sometimes there just harder to see.

No words were spoken; none were needed. There would be not heart-felt declarations of undying affection and never-ending love. The act itself was enough. Childish were the beliefs that words were always needed. Love didn’t have to be some dramatic ting. In this case, it was giving comfort, giving hope for the future and a tangible reminder of something shared between two people destined to live separate lives.

She rose slowly, barely making any sound as she closed the short distance between them. Looking into each other eyes, a solemn vow was exchanged and a soft kiss sealed the deal. She begun the kiss and he responded fully, feeling much like he was drugged at time seemed to slow down.

The kiss ended and she looked away, glanced downwards, suddenly shy and vulnerable. Taking a deep breath and meeting his gaze once more, she pulling the grey sweater he had donned over his head, laying it neatly on top of the chest. Her hope chest, ironically enough but an object that had lost all value and all hope. His loose pants were the next to go, along with his sock and undergarments. These items were also placed with care atop the sweater. He was confident and sure, not shy. He returned her former gesture by placing another soft kiss upon her lips before untying the lace ties of her gown and pushing it down her shoulders, the material pooling at her feet in a silken heap after tumbling like a gentle waterfall down her body. Another soft kiss was exchanged that turned more passionate as he lifted her and placed her gently atop of the bed, meeting her eyes once more before kissing her deeply once more. An exchange of love, soft and caring followed.

Pale sunlight, filtered through pale curtains, illuminated the room in the morning hours. The centre of the room was dominated by a bed, covered with a red and white patchwork quilt. A red blanket lay at its end, pushed there, no doubt, sometime during the night. Fast asleep lay two individuals. The man with strands of brown hair falling across his peaceful face lay on his side. The woman, with darker, curly locks, lay with her back against his naked chest. His arm, sprinkled with sparse brown hairs, was wrapped securely around the woman’s middle. The female’s slender hands were intertwined with his larger ones, holding him close.

Blinking in the dewy light, Anna yawned as wakefulness descended upon her. She felt content, whole, and safe with her back firm against Gabriel’s unyielding chest and his arm tucked protectedly around her. Using her free hand to brush stray curls off her face, her gaze fell to the sunlit sky. A slightly dull and pale sunshine but it stood as a symbol to her that the former darkness that had gripped this land had been vanished, leaving in its place the capacity for joy and happiness.

She felt Gabriel stiffen behind her as he too descended from the realm of sleep to wakefulness. He burrowed his face into her neck, smiling. She couldn’t help but smile as well. But she knew that all too soon their fleeting happiness would be crushed; reality would come crashing in and separate them.

“When do you leave?” She asked softly, part of her dreading the answer while the other part had already accepted the inevitable and had resigned.

“Soon. Today, most likely,” was his reply, soft and hesitant, as if he wished he didn’t have to acknowledge the fact that he must leave but realizing that he couldn’t hide in this room forever.

The truth of his words hung heavy in the air between them. A part of her had been dreading those words while the other part had already accepted them. A heartbreakingly sad smile came upon her features; a single tear fell upon her cheek, leaving behind a salty trail in its wake. What could she say?

“I know” was in the end her only reply. Which ended the conversation and lead to a closing of eyes, to escape the morning dawn and the parting that must soon occur, choosing for a moment to deny fate, holding each other closer and tighter for a few brief moments. Her fingers traced invisible patterns on his forearm and it was enough for the moment. They savoured each other’s presence, saying nothing at all. The silence was appropriate, the most touching thing. No more words were needed. In life there were choices and sometimes there was destiny to follow. We’re all bound by destiny but some of us feel it more strongly. In the silence, they said their good-byes and, for them, it was enough.

With a fresh layer of fluffy snow and pale golden sunshine casting an ethereal glow, the morning was, in many ways, picture perfect. An atmosphere of renewal, joy and hope should always accompany days like this but, alas, real life rarely fine-tunes itself to the weather.

It should have been a day of rejoicing, of feeling safe from Dracula and his minions for the first time in over 400 years. And sure enough, the villagers were rejoicing, praising God for the finally vanquished darkness that had shrouded the village for so many years.

While this joy was being celebrated, Anna Valerious was neither happy nor rejoicing. For her, it was a day of good-byes and the first day in a long while that she felt unsure of her purpose in life. It was a day of sadness and hiding emotions.

The time had come to part. The horses were saddled and loaded with clothing and food bags. Fine Transylvanian steeds, black and beautiful, waiting patiently for their riders to mount them. All three were clad in their usual costumes, so predictable in their attire. Frankenstein was no where in sight, having apparently already left in search of a life somewhere.

“Good-bye Anna,” Carl spoke, breaking the silence that had gripped them for the past few moments. His was a sorrow at leading a new friend, one full of courage and goodness. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid, and he knew that the relationship between Anna and Van Helsing was more of a mutual affection verging on genuine love than of the friendship he felt towards the beautiful princess.

Anna reached out and gave him a surprising hug, murmuring “Good-bye Carl,” a tear escaping her eye and his as well. She pulled away and then her gaze fell to the other man standing so hear her and yet feeling as if he were an ocean away already.

They held a silent gaze for a minute before reaching out and enveloping each other in a tender embrace. More tears fells on her rosy cheeks and when they moved apart, Gabriel reached up and wiped her tears away, before placing a chaste kiss on the princess’s forehead.

Their eyes met once more and he uttered “Good-bye princess” before placing a final, achingly soft and sweet kill upon her lips. Turning away quickly and mounting his horse with Carl following in his footsteps, he waved good-bye once seated; tears not yet shed blurring his final view of her. Blinking to see her clearly once more, he smiled sadly at her, nodded his head and was off with Carl beside him.

As the two men rode away, Anna watched. Whispering softy “Good-bye Gabriel Van Helsing” to his retreating figure, tears followed down her cheeks unchecked. In the distance he twisted his body around and waved more once more. She returned his farewell gesture with a similar wave of her own, blowing an air-kiss at him. She said good-bye with actions rather than with words. It was a bittersweet parting but it was lovely all the same.

Author’s Note: An English teacher I once had said that writing should always try to convey some interpretation of what it means to be human. This is what I try to do; mostly about what it means to love. This might seem like a sad ending, but I don’t believe that love always triumphs. And while I do believe we make our own destines, these are just movie characters with unique characteristics.