Thanx to everyone who read and reviewed my last story! Lol I got cookies and everything!
(my muse and I thankyou creative-insanity)
And for those of you who threatened to lock me up in a dark room with nothing but a typewriter to get this sequel :Cough: Marston, ChristineMarquez :Cough:
You'll have to catch me first!
Dedicated too, and in memory of 'Tigger' who died suddenly on Feb 9th 2005.
"Fare thee well, for I must leave thee,
Do not let this parting grieve thee,
And remember that the best of friends must part."
Thanx for that last kitkat.
Summary: Sequel to Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: A year after their trip into Van Helsings world Sarah and her friends are steal dealing with what happened, but a new enemy threatens Van Helsings world.
Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing I just like to mess with it.
The air hung heavy with the thick smoke from the small incense stick. The strong smell of lavender curled up in swirling grey plumes, seeming to drift and dance in time to the sweet sound of a Celtic lute being emitted by the CD-player in the far corner. The music helped to drown out the harsh sounds of passing cars and angry voices from the street, all too frequent in the modern world.
A lone figure clad in a ceremonial green dress of medieval style, drifted to the window sparing a brief glance for the world outside of her sanctuary, before drawing the blind down and plunging the room into darkness.
The hiss of a match being struck was accompanied by a sudden blaze of orange candlelight.
The young Wiccan knelt on a pillow before her makeshift altar, an old wooden truck draped with a purple cloth.
She held her blond hair back and lit the central candle, illuminating the large pentagram that was the centre piece of the altar. It seemed to radiate power, the flames light picking out the planetary symbols and sigils carved into its surface.
Tarot cards, runes and elemental objects surrounded it in a box of arcane mysticism. All aided the girl, as she allowed herself to drift with the music beginning to enter a calmer state of mind far removed from the worries of the world that surrounded her.
Reaching out, she retrieved and embroidered purple bag from the altar, smiling slightly as she recalled the friend who had given it to her, a Catholic boy who had braved the local occult shop for the perfect Christmas present.
Reaching into the velvet folds she retrieved the crystals the bag contained, one by one she arranged them around her on the carpet, placing each one reverently into position, clockwise around three times over, creating a colourful circle that encased her and her altar.
Speaking quietly she announced the name of each stone as she placed it:
"Tourmaline, Amythest, bloodstone, heamitite, obsidian, Howlite.." finally placing a small rose quartz wand in the North sealing the protective barrier.
Settling herself Indian style on the pillow, she closed her eyes and relaxed, giving herself over to the hypnotic lilt of the music and the lavender scent that dulled her senses.
Dreamily she reached out and lifted her athame from the altar, holding the ritual knife against her heart for a moment, lingering longer than necessary relishing the steady beat and the wonder it always held for her. Lifting the blade she removed its small leather sheath, revealing the cool metal of its length.
The athame was fashioned as a perfect miniature sword, the carved brass hilt consisting of two perfect dragons gripping the blade between them.
The familiar weight of the metal rested warmly in her palm as she raised it above her head, its tip pointing towards the sky. Her arm began to tingle as energy rose up it to gather in the blades upraised tip; silently she circled the blade above her, drawing a clockwise circle in the air. In her minds eye she saw the crystal circle spark into life, encasing her in a brilliant sphere of protection.
Pausing she lowered the blade against her chest once more.
"As above…" she whispered.
She turned the tip carefully to the floor. "So below."
Lifting the sheath she replaced it on the blade. "Blessed be."
A feeling of warmth and security added to the buzz of energy in the candlelit room. After a few moments of quiet breathing she felt herself drifting away from the world.
The music, the smell of the incense and the flickering of the candles all faded away.
The darkness behind her eyes yielded to sunlight, and she found herself in a summer meadow surrounded on all sides by long grass swaying gently in silent breeze.
Her breathing was none existent now, so slow and slight that it would seem to an observer that she ceased to draw breath at all. Her heart rate slowed as she was truly lost in her meditative paradise.
In her present state she did not notice the sudden frantic flickering of the central candle flame, nor the chill breath of wind that accompanied it as a malevolent presence sort entrance to her circle.
Her first initial shock came when the meadow faded to confront her with a dark void. Flashes of colour chased each other in dramatic unsettling waves; a violent display akin to the northern lights surrounded her.
Frowning with concern, the young witch began to will herself back to the waking safety of her physical body, disturbed by the malevolent shift in her morning meditation.
With surprising difficulty, she pulled back from the lights a faint scent of lavender incense guiding her. A fleeting image showed her the crystal circle failing and scattering, leaving her vulnerable to unfriendly forces.
With desperation she pushed forward, overjoyed when she felt the pillow beneath her and the familiar sensations of the physical body encasing her once again. Immediately she became aware of an intense aching in the centre of her forehead, the unmistakable sensation of another being forcing it's will upon her mind. A sensation she knew intimately and one she had dedicated herself to overcoming.
The vivid memories this intrusion raised, made her tremble with fear and anger. Pushing her feelings aside, the girl raised a shaking hand tracing a banishing pentagram over the spot, it formed perfectly in her minds eyes glowing a bright neon blue shielding her from psychic harm.
Almost instantly she felt the pressure ease and pass, leaving nothing but a dull tingling sensation in its place, her body tensed as she felt a presence at her back.
Something lingered behind her, scrutinising her with an intensity she hadn't felt for along time. Swallowing hard she reached up, her fingers clutching at the small flame scarred disk at her throat tracing the raised pentagram nervously.
The intruder lingered for a few moments longer before dissipating.
19 year old Sarah Harper waited a few more moments before hesitantly opening her eyes.
The room was a mess, crystals were scattered across the carpet leaving no trace of the circle they had formed. The altar candle had been pushed over, thankfully putting itself out in the small bowl of water beside it.
Sarah stood shakily and slowly opened the blind flooding the room with comforting summer sunlight dispelling the last remnants of her terrifying ordeal. She began to collect up her belongings tidying the room as best she could before stripping off her wiccan garments and replacing them with the mundane Jeans and black t-shirt she intended to wear for work. Only the green pentagram remained at her throat, the surface curiously marred and blackened in certain places one of her many reminders to be grateful for any day she could step into the sunlight.
Sarah hurried to complete her morning routine, horrified at how much time had passed during her meditation.
"Crap I'm gonna be late!" she worried rushing downstairs and shutting her, very disgruntled black terrier into the kitchen.
"Sorry Toby, will be back at dinnertime!" she promised.
He was her soul responsibility while her mother was spending a well earned holiday visiting relatives in Cornwall and her sister enjoyed a rare break in Skegness with her boyfriend.
Leaving Sarah the house to herself for three weeks, something she was going to take full advantage of.
The freedom was a welcome reprieve from the constant babying she'd had to endure following her lengthy disappearance and sudden reappearance the previous summer. Only her friend's knew what had occurred in those weeks of absence, having disappeared alongside her following and ill-fated camping trip.
Sarah smiled as she re-entered the now normal bedroom and spotted the beautiful Tiger katana sword resting in its stand above her bed. She ascended the steps to her top bunk and ran her fingers over the sheath, hearing the metal beneath it sing.
Her smile faltered when her eyes drifted to the simple daily calendar beside it.
A bright red circle proclaimed the date, seeming to frame it in an appropriate imitation of blood.
"June 17th 2005." She whispered.
June 17th, the day exactly a year ago, she had left home with her friends for a weekend camping trip…the day they had been sucked into a world of vampires, werewolves and hero's.
Her mind went over the attack she had just endured and her hand drifted to the twin scars on her throat. Her fingers came into contact with something warm and damp, slipping in the liquid covering the skin. She gasped pulling her hand back and stared at the dark crimson liquid that stained her fingertips.
She shut her eyes tightly then opened them again to find her hand clean and dry once more. Breathing rapidly to calm herself, she felt the scars again relived to feel the tiny indentations still closed no bloody trails flowing from them.
Suddenly two loud beeps emitted from the mobile lying discarded on her nightstand. Sarah bit back a cry of shock, glaring at the object impertinently demanding attention for the newly received text message.
Grabbing her car keys and phone, Sarah finally made it out of the house glad to be leaving the suddenly claustrophobic interior for the next eight hours.
Sliding into her car, she started the engine pausing to bring up the new message on her phone.
"One new photo message from: Marston."
A captured image of Dracula from the Van Helsing film appeared on the screen, he grinned up at her comically and beneath it large capital letters cheerfully proclaimed: