The Van Helsing Resurgence

by Evelyn Chartres

  By now, the well-dressed man had caught the look of confusion on the face of the guy who spotted the wounded arms. That’s when he noticed the visible bone, sinew and muscle. At first, there was confusion, but that was temporary. The cloud of uncertainty would soon dissipate.

  “Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin,” Evelyn sang as her suggestive smile faded into a smirk.

  “—the fuck!” the well-dress man exclaimed.

  Evelyn did not change her rate of advance or alter her demeanour. Between words, an impish smirk appeared, one that made it clear that the fun was about to begin.

  “Ó luadh i gcéin mo ghile mear,” Evelyn added.

  The well-dressed man reached for his piece holstered under his sports jacket. Evelyn was ready. She covered the remaining five feet in the blink of an eye. Before his hands reached the weapon, the imp drove one of the pool balls into his mouth. The strength and viciousness of the act was enough to shatter his teeth and lower jaw.

  She then took the remaining ball and threw it with all the strength she had. The ball flew from her hand, spending out a shower of sparks as it struck the lighting panel. The power flickered on and off, and caused the overhead lighting to blow out. Moments before, Evelyn had been bathed in light, exposed and vulnerable. Now, she melted into the darkness.

  The well-dressed man never had a chance to scream. Instead, he slipped straight into unconsciousness. With one man down, Evelyn scanned the room to find that the men were beginning to rouse from their stupor. That much was expected; either way, she needed to feed.

  She pivoted around and ran. Since her strength was beginning to wane, another burst of speed was ill advised. She focused on her immediate threat, the goon that could overpower her if she were careless. As she approached, her fingers turned into claws, Evelyn then leapt and grabbed his larynx. She squeezed hard on his windpipe and crushed the external structure to deprive him of air.

  His immediate reaction was to protect his neck, so Evelyn swung low near his hip and tore a gash through his jeans, piercing skin, fat and muscle to sever an artery. She latched onto the wound, taking in his life giving essence as fast as his heart supplied it.

  Evelyn was enraptured by her feast, the blood that gushed down her throat invigorated her. The skin on her arm began to regrow, while the gash on her leg healed in less than a minute. Alas, Evelyn needed more than a snack. Besides, it was time to have some fun.

  Before Evelyn could drain him, she noticed a dull white glow. One of the men had been smart enough to use his phone’s flash to cut through the darkness. Once the light settled on her, the group gasped at the sight of this girl bathed in blood, baring long white fangs.

  “What’s wrong boys?” Evelyn said in a sensual voice. “Not the kind of party you were looking for?”

  The men drew their weapons and fired. Muzzle flashes lit up the room, and highlighted the men for a fraction of a second. Still, before the first round crossed the distance, Evelyn was long gone.

  The searchlight resumed scanning the room and was soon joined by others. The room was eerily quiet, so much so, that the men were left with a general sense of unease. Once the light shone on the well-dressed man, unconscious and suffering from a shattered jaw, some of the men approached to help. Meanwhile, one brave soul risked looking after the goon.

  Evelyn giggled, and every man turned towards the source of that sound. As soon as their eyes caught sight of something, they emptied their magazines, only stopping once they realised they shot one of their own. Riddled with bullets, the man nearest to the pool table face-planted the floor. The group was too dumbfounded to notice the gouge on his neck.

  “Where’s Sean?” one of the hooters from earlier asked, although his voice by now, was an octave higher.

  Before the search could resume, something big came at them. Some closed their eyes, hoping that a higher power would intervene. Veterans in the group opened fire. The marksmen among them were successful at hitting the oncoming object. Either way, they ended up with more casualties.

  Sean’s corpse fell into the mass of men nearest to the bar, knocking them down like bowling pins. The impact caused a few to discharge their weapons, and that’s precisely when they heard a blood curdling scream. The sound was high pitched, unearthly and ear piercing. Anyone still conscious cringed at the thought of what they unleashed.

  “A banshee!” the bartender yelled.

  “Bâtard!” Evelyn shrieked as she kicked the pool table and sent it crashing into the back door. No one was going to run out of that door before this party was over.

  That crash had been enough to break the will of a few. In a panic, they made a beeline for the front door, intent on leaving their brethren behind. Others chose to stand their ground, determined to shoot at something… anything.

  The first man who reached the door was intercepted by the jukebox that barrelled down on him like a freight train. The impact pinned him to the wall, breaking bones and bursting organs. The look of shock on his face quickly gave way to a volcano of blood erupting through his mouth.

  “Jaysus—” A man yelled, but before he could add any additional expletives, he disappeared from sight.

  Those who still had their wits formed a tight circle with cell phones pointed upwards to provide ambient light. One took the time to change clips while the others kept an eye out for the banshee.

  Of course, the room still had a lot of dark corners where that creature could hide. The men were on edge, trying to block out the sound of anyone writhing in pain. Given the number and the circumstances, this was difficult.

  Despite the ambient noise, the group heard a metal object bouncing on the floor. They looked down to find a blood covered copper slug, one fired from a nine-millimetre. The slug rolled up to their feet, the sight of which was enough to make someone faint.

  “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk,” Evelyn said when she came out from the shadows.

  Behind her, they heard something slide onto the floor, probably another of their missing colleagues. By then, no one was sure of who was left.

  “You’ve been naughty,” Evelyn said with a smile that showcased her fangs.

  She was covered in blood; even her hair was saturated in it. Still, she looked at ease, sensual, like this was her natural state of being. Gone were signs of trauma—no wounds anywhere. If she had been shot, it was fully healed as well.

  The lead man trained his weapon on her. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, his elbow was forced to the rear so fast that the motion was blurred. When the round shot off, the head of the man to his right disappeared in a mist of brain matter.

  Evelyn did not fool around. She ripped out his voice box before he could scream. The flow of blood did not last. This banshee sealed the wound with her lips, taking in liberal amounts of blood whistle relishing in the energy it provided.

  A blast rang out through the room, and three rounds of buckshot found their mark. The two men who were still in this fight witnessed these rounds penetrate her chest and exit out the back. The bartender who fired that particular shot could not help but have a self-satisfied look on his face.

  Evelyn screeched the sound was even louder than the last. Out of frustration, she pushed the lead man with enough strength that the bones in his ribcage cracked, creating a sound that echoed throughout the room.

  The guy turned into a projectile, hitting the last man standing who never knew what hit him. Both were dead before they impacted the floor.

  “I deserved that,” Evelyn said casually as her wounds sealed themselves shut.

  The bartender broke the breach and ejected a single cartridge. He then fumbled around under the counter, searching for fresh shells. That smug look from earlier was long gone.

  “I might have let you live,” Evelyn said from behind him.

  The man had no time to react since her attack was quick and precise. The cut to his jugular released a strong spurt of blood that covered what was left of the lighting panel.

  He dropped the shotgun as hi
s hands spasmed, sending shells everywhere. He kept thinking about how close he got to getting out of here alive—if only he had been a smidge faster. That thought faded as he bled out. Evelyn knew to leave enough blood evidence behind, otherwise, investigators would start asking the wrong questions.

  All she had left to do was make sure there were no survivors. A few were wounded in such a way to ensure they would bleed out and make collecting blood evidence a nightmare. Others were shot using the array of weapons left lying about to foil ballistics. In the end, only the well-dressed man remained.

  She approached him, lifted him onto a stool, and said, “I know that women are not what you desire.”

  Evelyn then ran a finger around his ear and down his neck. Even in his state of unconsciousness, the body responded to her skilled touch.

  “But tonight you will experience pleasures you never thought possible, rapture that will leave your body and mind empty,” Evelyn said in a husky voice.

  When she bit into his neck, every part of him responded. He grew erect and moaned from the pleasure as the pain she inflicted earlier simply vanished. She drained him completely, then picked up his empty husk.

  She carried him outside, opened up a manhole cover, and dropped the body. The well-dressed man was whisked away by the pungent current. By the time they found him, he would be too badly mutilated by rats and decay to provide a viable cause of death.

  “Now, someone is missing from the group,” Evelyn said.

  Investigators would know of this gang, their activities and its key figures. With one man missing, detectives were likely to conclude there had been a power struggle. That would lead them to expend valuable resources on a false lead.

  Unfortunately, she noticed that the sky was beginning to change colour. Evelyn went back inside the club and wondered how to proceed. She cursed her need to feed and how that left her in a bit of a bind. Fortunately, that was the moment her phone pulsed. A quick check indicated that she had a missed message. For tonight, it seemed that her luck was holding out.

  “Perfect,” Evelyn said.

  * * * *

  Breanna had no energy left after the ordeal at the lab. Her eyes were bloodshot, adrenaline coursed through her veins, and her mind wandered. Nonetheless, once that phone vibrated, all traces of fatigue faded from her conscious mind.

  She glanced at her phone as she rode the elevator down to the main floor. Breanna scrolled through her notifications, sliding left on anything unimportant, and froze once she read a particular entry. She bit her lower lip and tapped on the notice to bring up the full screen view of her conversation. For now, there were only two word bubbles. The first, she initiated early in the evening, followed by the reply.

  The message was simple and to the point. It contained nothing more than an address. In the past, that meant a favour, one that came with a hell of a reward. She clicked on the address which launched her mapping software, and focused on her destination. It was in a neighbourhood she seldom heard of and never visited. No matter, all she cared about was how long it would take to get there.

  Without a second thought, she sent a reply, locked her phone, and wondered if they had it all wrong. Their species had no concept of a higher power. For their kind, mysticism and divinity were, for lack of a better word, alien to them. When she got the answer she hoped for, Breanna certainly questioned the validity of those beliefs.

  * * * *

  Evelyn had been waiting a while before a car drove into the back alley. She glanced out of the grime filled windows to see the neighbouring buildings. It was clear that the sun would soon scorch these lands, so the timing could not have been better.

  When the engine stopped, Evelyn picked out the rhythmic beat of a single heart. It was faster than the standing heart rate of a woman. The reasons for this were numerous, but she guessed a combination of fatigue, excitement or arousal. Since this coincided with Breanna’s expected arrival, the excitement of meeting for a bit of fun explained a lot.

  As a precaution, Evelyn listened for sings of activity, be it a dispatch radio, the sound of a gun being cocked, or any other distinctive heartbeats nearby. There were none, and that was a good sign. Still, she waited behind the pool table, ready to send it rocketing towards the door once more if need be.

  A light knock came at the back door before Breanna said, “Evelyn.”

  Evelyn relaxed, smiled and glided over to the door. Breanna backed away once she got a good view of the blood covered girl. Breanna’s reaction did not bother Evelyn; they both knew that she needed a shower.

  “Thank you,” Evelyn said, flashing a suggestive smile.

  The musical tones in that voice set Breanna’s mind at ease. Still, she backed away and used her keyfob to pop open the trunk. Normally, Evelyn would be less this thrilled for that kind of a ride, but that was unavoidable given the sun’s proclivity for charbroiling their kind.

  “Your carriage awaits, my dear,” Breanna said with a smirk.

  Evelyn giggled, approached the trunk, and looked inside. Breanna had been thoughtful, this time it had been lined with tarpaulin.

  “How sweet,” Evelyn said. “You remembered!”

  Breanna bit her lip. The anticipation intensifying within her loins was almost enough to make her overlook the blood and gore that covered Evelyn’s face. Fortunately, she knew Evelyn would not allow it; a random police check with blood covered lips would spell trouble for the both of them.

  “So where to?” Breanna asked.

  Evelyn grinned before she said, “You have a parking garage and a private elevator, don’t you?”

  “My place it is, then,” Breanna said. “Now if Madame would be so kind,” she added while directing Evelyn towards the trunk.

  Evelyn slipped into the trunk head first and curved her back, just like she did at the bar. When she brought up her leg, fabric hiked up to her ass and gave the Georgian a good view.

  She then set her rump on the trunks edge, spread out her legs to a full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees for a great view, and folded herself into the trunk space. If anything, Evelyn knew how to prolong a woman’s arousal.

  When the trunk was closed, Evelyn giggled. She could hear Breanna’s heart race with excitement. A shame the trunk had no direct air exchange with the cabin. She would have enjoyed the musk of Breanna’s arousal.

  “Always best to leave them wanting,” Evelyn said.

  * * * *

  Clara and Elizabeth sat facing one another in a booth while waiting for their order to arrive. This was an old style diner, one mostly found during the Second World War. This place featured a central counter, kitchen behind the back wall, and booths on the outside, adjacent to wrap-around windows.

  Clara was suspicious of the black liquid in her cup. Despite having a bowl full of sugar packets and cream, she doubted that this concoction would rival last night’s drink. Meanwhile, Elizabeth was dividing her time between her phone and whatever odd quirk that this blast from the past dredged up. She was tempted to ask about her love/hate relationship with the coffee but preferred to witness it first-hand.

  This morning, Elizabeth was not getting any enjoyment from catching up on the endless notifications she had amassed since her last check-in. Normally she would have loved to catch up on what her family and friends were posting on Bealzabook and Twitcher, but last night’s events made that all seem inconsequential.

  Nonetheless, she quickly responded to her closest friends and ignored the rest. Elizabeth found it odd that there were no notifications from her wife, although being on tour meant she was always in transit or performing. Before putting down the phone, she scrolled through her apps. There was a nagging sense that there was something she needed to do, but could not remember what.

  Meanwhile, Clara picked up the mug of coffee, swirling the contents as though they would crawl out of the cup like some lovecraftian creature. Once assured that the beverage was safe, she took a cautious sip. The reaction was both immediate and comical, doubly so coming fro
m a woman old enough to be Elizabeth’s great-grandmother. This scene reminded her of a child tasting something bitter for the first time.

  “Tastes like this coffee has been over a flame all night,” Clara said. She then eyed the sugar packets and said, “So, teaspoons of sugar are now individually packaged and sealed?”

  Once the words registered, Elizabeth snapped out of her recursive loop. She then looked at the bowl of packets and chuckled.

  “Yeah,” Elizabeth replied. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well… Isn’t it wasteful?” Clara mused while tearing apart four packets.

  Elizabeth was about to explain how they were not all sugar, but that was a lesson better saved for later. Although, she did wonder if Clara would notice the taste of artificial sweeteners.

  “People can take packets with them when the order is to go, it is cleaner, and saves them having to refill the dispensers,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, the paper can be recycled.”