Hybrid

I own none of the characters in Van Helsing, and wish only allow myself and others to enjoy my parodys. Please review, and be assured, there will be a sex scene later on, but one may have to get through a few chapters of plot first. if you do review, may your criticisms be constructive, and if you do or do not like it, please specify, I wish to learn. Thank you and enjoy.

The wind was picking up. He could feel it stir the brim of his hat, and for a moment his amber eye caught the light of the full moon. The trees slanted in the wind, and as it whistled through the branches, the leaves shook frantically in a noisy wake. Only he didn’t hear the whistling or rustling. What he heard, and saw, was a rusty red werewolf’s back as it hunched over the bloody carcass of a village woman, nawing leisurely. This one had been terrorizing this place for three months now, and the hunters hired by the village hadn’t had much luck killing it. To be perfectly frank, they were all dead, but this hunter was not like the others. He had learned through experience not to underestimate werewolves, and that the best way to handle them was with distance, precision, and a long range rifle with silver bullets in it. He knelt to the damp earth, and readied the rifle. He made sure the butt was in tight against his shoulder as Carl had warned him to do, and took careful aim with the scope, targeting right for the beast’s heart. The moment was almost right…
“Haven’t you fired yet?” said a small, British voice behind him, startling him out of concentration. Annoyed, he took his eyes off the scope and turned his head to look at the small friar behind him.
“I told you to stay with the horses,” he said testily.
“Ah, I know you did,” replied the ever earnest Carl, “but I dearly wanted to see the gun in action. You see, its all well and good to test it in the confides of the church against wooden planks, but to see it in the line of duty against evil, and witness it’s vengeance as it smites the villainous forces of our earth…I suppose it would look something like the hand of God, now that I think of it…” this thought brought a cheerful smile to his face as his eyes focused from the daydreaming distance back to Gabriel Van Helsing, still holding the rifle aimed, staring at him strangely, his expression blank apart from the perked eyebrow.
Seeing that his friend apparently lacked the passion he was enthusing, Carl’s smile faded, and he said simply, “Can I watch?”
“No,” said Helsing just as simply, and turned back to his target.
“Oh please may I watch? I’ll be ever so quiet,” pleaded Carl. When Helsing didn’t answer right away, he pressed harder. “Please?”
Helsing rolled his eyes. “Alright, but not a sound.”
“Oh thank you! No, no, not a sound out of me, I swear, not a peep.” Carl crawled over and crouched next to Helsing, giving him ample room with the gun. Helsing took all thought and distraction out of his mind. The beast was still eating, and he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It almost seemed unjust to just kill him this way, he thought, after all, he couldn’t help what he was. This was just someone at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he needed to die, but to do this in such a way that he doesn’t even know what’s coming, and without even a chance to do as nature intended, that he fight to live, somehow it just didn’t seem right. He swallowed, and put the thoughts out of his mind. He couldn’t think about it know. He took aim; his hand tightened on the trigger, tensed his muscles, and awaited the big bang that would occur. He pulled the trigger.
Instead of a loud bang that they said would happen, a small click was the only sound it made, and no silver bullet came out. In fact, nothing came out at all…
Shit, he thought, and looked at the gun curiously.
“What happened?” asked Carl anxiously.
“It didn’t fire,” said Helsing.
“What do you mean it didn’t fire?” whispered Carl loudly.
“Didn’t you put gun powder in this?” Helsing demanded.
“Of course I did! Do you really think I’d- look just give it here!” He took the gun from Helsing and looked it over. After a moment, he gave a little ‘ah-ha’.
“Ah-ha! I found the problem!”
“What is it?”
*click* “Safety was on.” No sooner did Carl finish saying this when he gave a womanly scream as the gun went off in his hands and the bullet flew into the air.
Helsing immediately looked down to their target to find him erect and alert, and staring right at the spot they were hiding in. The Werewolf sniffed, licked its bloodstained lips, and took off running into the bush.
“Damn it!” cursed Helsing as he grabbed his gear and ran down the hill after him, leaving Carl, apologetic and tied tongued alone with the rifle. He then proceeded to reload the gun, and followed the trail left by the hunter.
The windblown leaves stung Helsing's cheeks as he sprinted through the bush after the werewolf, who was already leagues ahead of him, but he figured he could catch up to him if he could take the right shortcut. Only problem was, he didn't know this forest very well, so he would have to improvise a little. He reached a cliff side with the forest below. The land looked like a dark ocean; the trees swayed the wind in such a way that under different circumstances, he may have found it soothing. He knew he would never be able to point out where the wolf was in this weather, so he stood, quiet and still. He calmed his breathing, and closed his eyes, his concentration piercing through the moving trees and the wind in his hair. There he listened, waiting...waiting...and then he heard it; a distinct cracking and rustling of wood not caused by the wind. His eyes snapped open and turned to the right, where sure enough, he saw a large, black figure running through a small clearing before disappearing again; he was heading south east. Helsing looked below him at the menacing boulders directly beneath him and the trees leading to the forest beside them. His mind raced in strategy. He knew that it would take too long to run down the side of the cliff, and it was too high for him to just jump and hope to make it into the trees, and even if he did, he would be sure to break something, possibly his neck, in the process. The only other option he had was another invention the church had made for him. Helsing dropped his bag to the ground and pulled out a fat package with twin arm straps and a long tag on it. He took off his hat, and slid his arms through the straps so the package rested on his back. He then checked to make sure his regular guns were safely in his holsters and his spin blades at his arms. He then jogged away from the edge, took a quick breath, and an equally quick prayer, and leaped off the cliff side. The wind tore threw his hair as gravity took its course. He recalled the instructions one of the monks had given him and pulled the tag on the package. In a mere second two thin fabric wings shot from the pack and caught the wind, putting Helsing in a very startling, but not unenjoyable flight. From the wings in front of him where two circular holds one attached by wire to eachwing. He grasped them, and found that if he pulled on the right, it would turn right, and vice versa on the left. Now that he was a bit used to this, he scanned the ground below him, rotating in a slow circle like a vulture in search of meat. Just when he started to feel that he had lost him, there the beast was, heading towards the river. Helsing angled the device carefully to- to what? Just what was he going to do? He had no idea of how to land it without doing his self serious injury. The werewolf was getting closer to the river; it would soon be in the clearing, but if it went back into the trees, it would be all the more difficult to catch him. There was only one course of action to be taken, and though it wasn't the smartest, it was all he had. Helsing maneuvered the devise at a 45 degree angle towards the spot the creature was huffing its way to. Just as the werewolf hit mid-leap across the width of the river, Helsing squeezed his eyes shut as he, the device, and the natural speed of gravity rammed into the beast at full force, knocking both of them into the freezing water.
They both came up sputtering and shivering. Helsing jerked the long hair out of his eyes as the massive creature shook like a dog, and then turned to him, giving the hunter a low, menacing growl as it bared its razor teeth under its bloodstained lips. It lunged for him with a great roar and as the water came splashing up with every heavy footfall, Helsing ripped the now useless device from his back, drew his handguns, took aim and fired, only to remember that the gunpowder in them would now be completely soaked. His mind was racing as the beast came upon him, but instead of a sound plan, all that came to mind was “Oh shit!” just before the creature swung one powerful arm and knocked Helsing into the trees. He hit an unyielding oak with a crack and a whoosh as the air in his lungs was wrenched out.
He fell to the ground and struggled to lift his head as another roar came from the werewolf. He raised his eyes to see it leaping head first towards him, its arms wide in an open and deadly embrace, its teeth bared and eyes bright. Helsing forced his battered body to move to a quick crouch and rolled forward under his nemesis’s pounce.
The beast ricocheted off the ground where the human had been and swung itself around to find him, but he wasn’t there. There had been a splash, and now the water rippled. Even the creature knew he couldn’t stay under there forever. It waited, sniffing and watchful at the edge of the slow moving water. Something to the right caught its eye, and there in the water was something that was definitely a man thing just a few feet from the bank. The beast crept up to it, being surprisingly quiet in the shallow waters, and then in a fury plunged its diabolical claws into the man thing, only to pull it up to see it was a coat that had been caught by a wide branch. The beast looked perplex, and then heard a kind of sound like spinning water…
The werewolf howled in pain and surprise as something sliced into the flesh of its leg above the ankle. It fell full into the water in agony to find its left foot had been completely severed. It was barely aware of the coatless hunter rising from the water as it moaned and whined in anguish. Helsing stepped towards it slowly, wiping the animal hair and flesh from the metal of his returned spinning blade. He prepared to throw it towards the animal’s neck in hopes of removing its head, if not, at least to cut its throat.
The creature then roared as it hurled a head sized rock at Helsing, hitting his throwing shoulder hard, causing him to sharply cry out and drop the blade. The no longer whining werewolf sped for him, using its front paws and one back to propel forward in a wrathful rage of snarls and bloody water.
“Van!” came a shout from the bank. Helsing looked to see Carl throwing the rifle to him. Helsing caught it, released the safety, took aim and shot the creature between the eyes. It reared and finally collapsed into the water in a dead weight before him.
Helsing sighed in relief as he rested the rifle on his shoulder, breathing in the heavy breeze and the cold water.
“My, close call, my friend”, said Carl between breaths. “I never would have found you if it hadn’t been for all the noise that thing was making.” He sat at the bank and attempted to calm his breathing. Helsing stiffly walked to shore, dripping wet and exhausted. He set the rifle down and followed Carl’s quiet gaze towards the werewolf. He watched as the rusty red fur disappeared, and how the body shrunk into that of a human. He felt the same nauseating feeling like he always does when the monster he kills transforms back into that of an innocent. An innocent he killed
“Give me a hand, will you?” he asked Carl, and both men dragged the body from the water, and looked upon him silently. It was a portly older man, about fifty or sixty, with long, dark hair on his head and a red and gray beard. Helsing thought he had a cheery face, the kind of face that laughed a lot. He said a prayer and did the motions of the cross over the body, and Carl did the same.
“Should we take him back to the village?” asked Carl.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the man’s face, “Get the horses and we’ll leave.”
“Right,” said Carl and he hurried away. When he came back, Helsing had already wrapped the body in the remains of his coat, retrieved his weapons and recovered the flying device.
“There you are,” Helsing said, briefly looking up from his work. “I’ve almost got him tied in here.”
Carl uncomfortably walked towards him and held his hat in front of Helsing’s eye until he saw it. “Ah,” said Helsing, taking it, “thank you,” and returned it to his head.
“Um, Gabriel?” said the friar timidly.
“What?” he asked as he worked.
“You’re, um, you’re not going to believe this…”
Helsing stopped, sighed, and walked up to Carl. “Not going to believe what?”
“Well…it looks as if... at least it would seem…”
The stuttering stopped as Carl got the full blunt of Gabriel Van Helsing’s “look”.
“As a matter of fact the, um, the horses are gone.” Carl tensed his body as he anticipated the blow about to come.
“The horses are what?” demanded Helsing.
“The horses are, er, gone?” said Carl pathetically.
Helsing paced furiously, “You see, you see, this is why I told you to stay with the horses!”
“Well it’s a good thing I didn’t! You obviously needed my help after all,” retorted Carl.
“Is that before or after you blew our cover?”
Carl pouted, and at that Helsing sighed and patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m just…it’s not your fault, ok? Let’s just try to get this man to shelter for the night and then I’ll walk back for more horses in the morning, alright?”
“Very well,” said Carl brightly.
On the trail towards a cave nearby, with very heavy portly fellow in hand, Carl asks “Did you use the Diver device?”
“The what?”
“The flying mechanism on your back.”
“Oh, yes I did. It worked very well.”
“Oh I’m glad to hear it. But what on earth happened to it?”
“It…broke,” Helsing replied stiffly. Carl could get very anxious about his toys.
“Broke? You broke it? Its frame is made of steel; how the Hell could you break it?”
“There are ways,” he replied simply.
“You flew it into a tree, didn’t you? You flew it into a bloody tree!” Carl exclaimed.
“Something like that”, he replied vaguely.
“Damnit, Helsing, that was a pricy bit of equipment,” said the outraged Carl as he fought to both carry the body and be angry.
“Look, I’m sorry. And stop cursing already. I never heard a monk with such language. You pray to God with that mouth?”
“Van I’ve told you a hundred times that I’m not a monk! I’m a blasted friar! Have you got that!? HAVE YOU!?”
“Yes, alright, my mistake, don’t get your holy robes in a twist…”