Aiden Shepard [ Abraham Van Helsing ] (arcere) wrote in bellumlogs,
The night had gone poorly. Despite their speed, despite their armaments, despite being far more prepared this time, neither hide nor hair could be found of the monster - or the women. Van Helsing had blamed himself for his lax speed and slow revelation of information. There had been no sign of anyone being abandoned in the building from an attack, which meant only one thing: the beast had left to feed and taken them with him.
Which also meant that Madam Mina and Miss Lucy were -- no. He couldn't bring himself to think it, much less realize the implications. As he and John slowly descended along the stairwell, he tried to think of ways to stop the problems - to end the monster's control without harming those so dear to the rest of them. Perhaps if they were lucky ...
Below them, he heard words - muffled by the walls, by the distance - but something in it made a part of him come alive with anger, righteousness, and fear. Helsing glanced at Seward and tightened his grip on the stake nearest to his hand before very carefully rounding the corner of the stairwell.
There, on the landing just below, stood three: Madam Mina, Miss Lucy, and him. The part of Helsing that remained Aiden reeled and shrieked in venomous hatred, but couldn't so much as graze the surface of control. Deeper still was another, equal loathing that rendered even his own hatred simple by comparison. But Van Helsing was still there, and despite the coming dawn, he stood firm at the top of the stairs, glaring down at the monster.
Jonathan would come, he knew. It would not be long now. How to spare the man the sight of this ... it would be impossible. But he would do his best in any case. For the moment, Helsing was silent - what words could be said to address such depravity?