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Not exactly Van Helsing fanfiction...

Persecute This, Van Helsing


'It's—It's really quite difficult, saying this out loud—Well, it's Dracula, you see. I have my suspicions—about what he is.'

Abraham's palm, moving once or twice in a brief patting motion, communicated a certain solidarity through the thinness of Jonathan's trousers. It really was too cold a night to have left open the shutters, Jonathan mused. The curtains, a rich red drape, billowed in a way that provoked in him a shiver, if mostly of reminiscence.

For an uncertain instant, Jonathan experienced the dazed, almost drunken memory of a luxurious cloak, musky, drawn theatrically wide. How little it took the foreign Count to transport Jonathan so far away from a sane and English realm: a simple swathe of fabric drawn close, and cool hands cupped around his skull.

'Go on,' said Abraham Van Helsing. 'I know the monstrosity of which you speak, Jonathan, nothing you say could surprise me. Still, do you good to get it out in the open, man.'

'Of course,' Jonathan said, vaguely. Monstrous? Well, it was all a titch bit monstrous, he supposed; indeed, monstrous enough that the thought of it had his heartbeat syncopate quite rapidly. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, something he chose to call "courage" from somewhere else, and ejected both in a volley of words. 'Because I disliked it exceedingly it when he came to me at night, Professor, you must believe me, you must tell my darling Mina that I had no part in it all, you see—'

Grimly, yet with an air of having had a somewhat thirsty suspicion slaked, Van Helsing intoned: 'He would come to suck your blood.'

'Oh, Professor, no. No. No! Good grief, man! What kind of a monster do you take the Count to be? He simply wanted to suck — well — other things —'

June 2010


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