Memoirs of an Immortal Life (19 page)

Chapter Twenty

Claudia Van Helsing’s Journal

25 October 1897

Castle Baserab

Vladimir’s mood has improved greatly since my birthday celebration. I find he smiles more frequently than he did before that day. Family, I pray, alleviates his loneliness and gives lightness to his condition.

Father continues his research. My blood continues to mutate and becomes more similar to Vladimir’s with each day that passes. Father is even more consumed with his studies than I have ever seen in the past. I am certain he fears I will become
the same as my poor Vladimir. I have no symptoms of his condition. There is no thirst for blood, nor have I developed any of his traits. Though I believe if I were to ask my father, he would say my temperament is not as it once was.

I have discovered that our dark host is very much a creature of habit. He keeps several musicians at any given time that play for him each morning. Music soothes him, I believe. It as if he feels the embodiment of the music more deeply than others
for it is not the mere pleasure of listening that fills his soul. It is the beauty of each note, of how they come together to compose a vision that he cannot only hear but see.

I know he senses my presence each morning as I stop to listen to the violinists as they play. Yet, he never mentions it in passing. The melody sweeps Vladimir away to a kinder and gentler place
where the tragedies of his life are non-existent. Until this morning, I have never had the heart to disturb him -instead, it was in silence my eyes followed his every move. I believe I have come to understand a fact my father has not – he is a sensual creature, filled with love, joy, and regret, filled with despair, longing, and perspective, and is consumed by events over which he had no control that have left a darkened mark on not only his heart but also his soul. He is complicated yet simple, adoring yet judgmental. My Vladimir is what the rest of world desires to be…an imperfect version of the human condition.

As I stood in the doorway, listening to the haunting melody they played, he turned to face me.

“Each morning you come and stand silently in the shadows when there is no need,” he said.

“I did not wish to intrude.”

He stood and bowed to me before offering his hand.

“I would be honored should you share a dance with me, Claudia Van Helsing.”

He smiled softly causing me not to be able to refuse his simple yet elegant request. He was fluid and graceful as the waltz played, something I scarcely expected.

“Have you ever been to Paris, Vladimir?”

“Yes.”

“And Rome, have you ever traveled to Rome?”

“Yes,” he replied as we continued to dance.

“I have not traveled to any city I fancy, only to those where Father’s work calls him.
When illness ruled my life, it was all that could be dreamt of, the cities that would never know me for the lack of traveling there. You probably think it folly, but when one knows not when death shall arrive at their door, it is the dreams they hold in their heart that help them to preserve. My life was but a dream until you saved me, Vladimir, and mere words can never express what is held in my heart for the sacrifice you made.”

“Then I shall make it my mission that you shall see the wonders of the world, Claudia.”

“You would do this for me?” I asked.

The music had long since ceased to play as Vladimir continued to dance
with his arms wrapped tightly around me, still enveloped in the rhapsody of what lingered in his mind and his heart.

“For you, dear Claudia, there is not a single thing I would not do.”

Vladimir stopped abruptly and kissed me on my forehead.

“You are the light of all lights, the flame of hope in my world of darkness, and an unassuming beacon that calls me to be a better man.”

He left me dumbfounded and alone, wondering how I could impact him on such a grand scale when it was he would had saved me from the Angel of Death. Who am I in the grand scheme of God’s plan to have such an effect on him? Perhaps, I am not meant to understand. Perhaps, God works through me to correct the error of his own doing.

Chapter Twenty One

Vladimir’s Journal

1 November 1897

Castle Baserab

Nearly four years I have been in his keep. He grows more insistent with each passing day. Claudia spends her days exploring the many hidden passages of Castle Baserab in an attempt to avoid her own father. How sad his faith has led to an obsession that weakens the constitution of the man I once knew and loved.

I pacify his interests in order to keep him at bay. What should happen if he encounters me in my natural element? This morning he questioned me at length about the village below, if there should happen to be any among the villagers who suffered from any such malady that he could treat. I fear what it is he may do next.

I have often
wondered about the chalice that gave him eternal life and have spent many a sleepless night contemplating the legends that the same chalice which could give a life eternal could also take it from them. His suffering, I believe, is greater than mine for Ahbrim is consumed with the life I have lived rather than living his own. It is more madness than suffering and has grown deeper with each century passed. It is a tangled web we both have come to weave from which I fear there is no escape.

Vladimir Dracul’s Journal

5 November 1897

Castle Baserab

The scent of blood is thick, consuming, and difficult to resist. It was not I who brought death to the castle. The aroma floats, a familiar scent that beckons me. Perhaps this is his guise to lure me to his lair and continue his experiments. It dances from the depths. For many days now, I have watched Ahbrim with a sense of detachment. Who he is cannot sway me in what must be done. Twice
, now, he has confronted me concerning offering medical assistance to the village below. Now it appears he holds them prisoner to further his experiments without Claudia’s or my blood as the basis for his work. So consumed he was with her cure and now the devastation that it was I that cured her has broken him. He is a shell of the man I once knew. At least I deliver them to death. With Ahbrim, they are not so fortunate. He forces them into an existence of pain, despair, and darkness in the name of science in the hopes of curing them of whatever malady they bear.

“In darkness there is always light,”
he once told me. What light lies in the darkness for those he has condemned? Will he stop at nothing? How much longer will Claudia be safe in his company? He has taken those from whom I am charged to protect into his own keep for his own gain. Those who look to me for protection, the centuries of descendants, now wonder where their champion has gone.

Claudia speaks not of her father’s activities. She is a learned woman whose manners keep her from speaking against him, though I am certain she is aware. How detrimental his behavior is. Does he consider her welfare at all? So clouded is he in his vision, Ahbrim knows not how his actions affect her. Her essence is changing with each day that passes. She is strong, more aware of what she has become. Claudia’s mortality no longer haunts her dreams.

Somewhere between pity and obsession was born a monstrosity whose intentions now haunt these hallowed halls. My beloved, how I wish our lives could have been different. Had they not taken you from me, my life would have been whole and pure. I would have loved and died as any other man and faced what lies before me. Never would I have dreamt that I would face the day I would have to kill my own brother to save him from himself.

Abraham Van Helsing’s Journal

6 November 1897

Castle Baserab

The three subjects have had little response to Vladimir’s blood. The proposed effect I desired was not obtained. Infection must be spread not only through his blood, but also through his bite. It is the only reason I can ascertain that Claudia did not fall prey to condemnation. I had hoped to induce vampirism in them and be able to study the infection from conception to finish. The last of the serums we formulated during Claudia’s trials are no longer safe to use, their continuity lost with age. How blessed I would be if only Vladimir would endorse the journey I have taken to cure him. If he could embrace a life such as the one he has given
my Claudia, and no longer rely on blood to sustain him, he could find forgiveness.

My pledge before God I made and broke countless times. How many opportunities presented themselves where I failed to act and allowed him to live, even warned him about the Order and their pending approach? I have turned a blind eye toward his activities, the many dens he kept throughout Europe as I awaited the day he could come to terms with his decision. For it was he alone that made the choice that condemned his soul. And I, as a man of science, have waited patiently in the shadows for that day to emerge. A day when his continence would become weary of the life he had chosen and he would forgive me the transgressions he feels I have committed. Claudia’s condition hastened my need to forgive him so she could be saved.

It is strange the love I feel for her. Many wives and children have called me husband and father throughout the centuries. I watched them age and die without thought. They have long crumbled to dust, but Claudia, she was different. I could not bear to let her go. Perhaps it was she possessed so much of him within her; her steadfast convictions and fearlessness in the face of death reminded me of the Vladimir I once knew.

Between science and God are many conflictions. As a man of God, I understand I should not interfere. As a man of science, I am compelled to save them. I tell myself God desires for me to seek the cures of the modern era that improve quality of life and to put at rest such diseases. This is why I sought out those within the village whose
appearance was weak and frail in the hopes that his blood could cure them. Now I am able to see it was not merely his blood alone that saved Claudia, it was hers as well, and without both of their blood, my efforts will be in vain.

Claudia Van Helsing’s Journal

7 November 1897

Castle Baserab

Father has become quite mad. He has killed several of the villagers in his quest to use both our blood as a cure for any disease of the blood he encounters. I heard the cries of the villagers this morning when the corpses were found half buried in the hard and forgiven frozen earth. Vladimir was so angered he would not even look at my father and refuses to speak with him. I cannot blame him for being so distressed over my father’s behavior. He has cared for these people and their families for centuries, creating a bond with them that is unbreakable in a morose sort of way. Vladimir is their protector and has kept the unsavory at bay, no matter the cost to keep the vow he pledged. Now, the monster that lives within the walls of the castle
is my own father and I have no pity for what should befall him.

Vladimir came to me late in the day asking should I like to leave with him, if he were to travel. I was unsure what he meant at first, not truly understanding what it was he was asking of me. He wishes to take me to Paris or Milan, far from my father and his madness. My fear lies in the undeniable fact we shall never escape him. The memories in my blood become clearer with each day I spend within these walls. I know now the truth and how I am part of a much grander tale than anyone could ever believe. My father swore to protect him at any cost no matter how great the sacrifice, including giving his soul to the Church until the day that Vladimir crumbled to dust at my father’s hand.

Confronting Vladimir about it has done little. Perhaps he wishes to spare me the indignity of knowing the entire truth. But what I see, what I feel, it can be nothing other than what I suspect. His memories play in my mind like a movie from the cinematograph at the London Faire, so crisp and so clear they must be real. Only memories lived could contain such clarity. The final truth must be learned, no matter the end result.

Whether or not fleeing with Vladimir is a viable option, I cannot say, but staying with my father has no longer become a place in my life where comfort remains. Abandoning him will cause father such sorrow. How will he ever find it in his heart to forgive me?

Abraham Van Helsing’s Journal

9 November 1897

Castle Baserab

They are gone, both of them, slipped off in the dark of night while I toiled away over my research. How could I have been so blind as to not see he would steal her away from me as punishment for what happened all those years ago? He is a creature of habit, which is to my benefit. He will seek Paris, Milan, or even Prague to call his home temporarily. I have no reservation in saying London is the last city he would return to after what happened. Once again, my intellect must be implored to seek him out. This time I will destroy Vladimir Dracul once and for all.