The Van Helsing Paradox

by Evelyn Chartres

  Clara instinctively pressed down on the ejector to release the clip. She then reached into her pocket to load a fresh magazine. Once the spent clip hit the ground, so did the Georgian’s body. The female’s partner looked over the scene in shock, but Clara assumed that would soon change.

  “So where is she?” Edith asked.

  “You!” the female shrieked.

  From her peripheral vision, Clara picked up the sight of Edith being hurled through the air. She guessed what would come next. Without looking, she raised her pistol to the side of her left ear, pointed it at a forty-five degree angle and fired three rounds.

  The blast left her temporarily deafened but did little to attenuate the shriek of pain that thing made. It seemed that two of the three rounds had reached their target, much to Clara’s good fortune.

  Clara turned around while keeping her pistol trained on the woman and saw that distinctive blood pouring onto the snow. The thick red liquid did not melt the snow or steam in the cold, instead it coagulated and grew thicker. The blood was coalescing into a coherent mass in an attempt to return to its host.

  Without a second thought, Clara unloaded a full clip into that thing’s head until the carrier remained fully to the rear. She stood there for a moment to observe but saw no movement. For now, that was the best she could do.

  Clara ran towards Edith and found her unconscious but no worse for the wear. She looked about and thought it best to move Edith somewhere safe. It would only get colder and she needed to make sure that some random patrol would not come across her while unconscious.

  She lifted Edith onto her shoulders, then moved deeper into the church until she came across a small room. The door was still serviceable, and could be bolted from the inside, while permitting Clara to sneak out through the broken floorboards from what was left of the second floor.

  Clara placed Edith down lightly and felt a chill run down her spine. Edith would probably get a lot colder if nothing were done to help her stay warm. Since lighting a fire was out of the question, Clara helped herself to one of Edith’s clips and left behind her greatcoat.

  Even now, the chill made her shiver, so that meant she had to keep moving to stay warm. Still it would be a challenge, especially if she had to use stealth.

  She ventured out towards the scene of the altercation. The body of the Georgian was gone. In fact, there was no indication that it had been here at all. Hopefully, those bastards had learned a lesson about playing both sides.

  At least the female’s body was still there. Clara then spotted a set of footprints that led deeper into No-Man’s-Land. Given an active threat lurking about, Clara knew her primary objective; so without hesitation she began her pursuit.

  * * * *

  This particular creature was making no attempt to conceal its escape. Given the clothes and his submissive nature, such behaviour was to be expected. Clara suspected that city dwellers knew little about tracking animals or how to avoid being tracked; these were not survival skills people needed in the land of steel, brick and mortar.

  The path was random and confused. At first they were travelling towards the front and suddenly veered away from it. If this creature was disorientated, that would complicate matters.

  After about an hour she saw a dark silhouette against the ridge. The gentleman’s dress and hat were a dead giveaway. Was he waiting for the female’s return? No matter, Clara looked at her watch and saw there was another twenty minutes to go before the crepuscular sky.

  Clara knew that he would instinctively seek out shelter and was capable of burrowing into the ground to avoid exposure, a survival instinct which permitted them to avoid their biggest natural threat.

  She had her own share of risks if she remained on the hunt past sunrise. For one, she might be spotted by an observation balloon or a passing aircraft. They might report her presence then have her arrested, which would lead to an execution by firing squad for cowardice.

  It was only about a hundred yards or so to her objective. Without cover, that would be difficult, since he would bolt if anyone in uniform approached. This meant she needed to distract him and she was not looking forward to the rest of her plan.

  Concealed by a small crater, Clara removed her tunic, shirt, padding and wrapping. Already her skin was turning to gooseflesh, but she relied on her training to ignore the cold; at this point it was mind over matter.

  Beneath all of those clothes she wore a slip, simple and not too showy. With her trousers out of the way, Clara pulled down the fabric, grabbed a knife, and cut the slip so he would get an eyeful.

  Almost ready, she hurriedly removed the pins from her hair to let it down in the hope that it would make her appear more feminine. With any luck, she would not need the holy water applied to her lips nor would he notice the bayonet held behind her back.

  Ready, she headed up the ridge wearing the boots and little else. Clara even elongated her steps to make the sway in her hips more pronounced. This had to be a first, trying to seduce an enemy in a warzone.

  The man turned to find Clara moving up the ridge. Even in the moonlight, she saw the fear melt away. A look of confusion then set in, followed by a shit-eating-grin. Luckily for her, men seemed programmed (for the most part) to enjoy the sight of a woman, especially one in a state of undress.

  “You’re not Gladys,” he said.

  So it turned out the female had a name. It was a very modern one too, an aspect that left her a bit surprised.

  Now there were a few ways to answer the question. Either she ignores his question or reply no which might arouse suspicion. Although she could always act confused to see how gullible this man was, her instincts told her the latter would prove most effective.

  “Gladys?” Clara asked.

  The man’s smirk grew into a full-scale smile, so he was clearly not thinking with his head. What were the chances of a half-dressed girl showing up in the middle of No-Man’s-Land? Then again, most of them were like Jack and considered themselves to be direct descendants of Casanova.

  “I could not resist,” Clara said in a distant tone.

  “Of course not,” he said. “Come hither my sweet,” he added while adopting a smouldering look.

  If Clara were not so cold she might have felt the effects of his charm. Hence the reason she applied a bit holy water to her lips. Instead, she fought the urge to roll her eyes while she continued on with her approach. This pose had the benefits of pushing her chest out front and centre. Given her hard nipples, she knew that she was giving him a show.

  When she got within a few feet, he backed away subconsciously. He must have been newly turned to be so affected by her presence. Faith was a potent weapon, but she needed him to overcome his aversion. In a few minutes, the sky began to lighten and he would run for cover.

  “I want you,” Clara said while pulling down on her slip to expose her bare breasts.

  The appearance of willing flesh was all the motivation he needed. This time when she took a step, he did not move, which enabled her to get within inches of him.

  Clara ran a finger along the buttons of his jacket until she reached his trousers and said, “I need you.”

  He leaned in, his lips gliding over her chest towards hers. Soon their lips would be locked in an embrace, or so he hoped. In truth, the burn from the holy water would send him into a tailspin, but Clara had a different plan in mind. Just before their lips made contact, she drove the bayonet into his chest and pierced the heart.

  She pulled away just before his body dropped to the ground. She covered up her breasts since there was no sense of exposing them to the elements now. Without a second’s hesitation, she then pulled his smoking jacket away and wrapped it around her. It might have been too big, but at least it would help her stay warm.

  The look on his face was priceless. Clara adopted that same smirk he wore when he first set eyes on her. Of course, he did not appear to be receptive to her brand of humour.

  “What a shame,” Clara whispered.
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br />   “How?” he asked.

  “You let your ego lower your guard,” Clara said.

  “Why?” he asked with a strained voice.

  “You’re a perversion,” Clara replied. “An abomination that needs to be culled.”

  Clara broke eye contact with the man. She searched the area and started to gather any stray pieces of wood she found. Most had already been scorched, but that mattered little. Every time she recovered an armful she piled them over his paralysed body.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Clara did not bother to reply, instead she fought her urge to shiver. Unfortunately, she could not afford to lose this opportunity to extract information.

  As the sky turned from a deep blue to purples and pinks the man’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He panicked as his survival instincts kicked in; he knew that his time was drawing to an end.

  “Let me go!” he exclaimed.

  Clara snickered before she dropped more wood onto the body. By this point, he was partially covered in kindling. Unfortunately that meant more material was needed.

  “She said no one would get hurt,” the man said.

  Clara paused for a moment and said, “Who?”

  “Gladys brought me here to meet that man,” he said. His voice was shaking when he added, “A simple transaction to get them to open some door.”

  “Really?” Clara asked.

  She dropped more wood by the body while the sky began to assume some yellow hues. She was cold and looked forward to what would come next.

  Despite her joints being stiff from the cold, Clara knelt down by the man and grabbed the bayonets hilt. She nudged the blade deeper into the wound and watched while he screamed in agony. It was time to up the ante.

  “So why were we there?” Clara asked.

  The man sighed in relief once she stopped, but he knew that was only a temporary affair.

  “Gladys never told me,” he answered.

  That answer was not hard to believe, but Clara had nothing to lose. She grabbed the hilt of the blade and shifted it further motivate him.

  “Are you sure?” Clara asked.

  “Yes… Please don’t!” he pleaded.

  “No mention of a name?” Clara asked while she wiggled the blade. “No mention of a contact?”

  The man seemed torn between enduring more pain and the thought of what Gladys would do when she got a hold of him. Meanwhile, Clara saw how the sun was moments away from peering over the horizon.

  Clara kissed him on the cheek. At first he seemed confused until the skin began to smoke and bubble. In that moment, he learned just how dangerous Clara was.

  “Drusilla!” he exclaimed in hopes that she would end his pain.

  The pain was about to end. Just as the sun’s rays reached the top of the ridge, the man’s skin began to blister and blacken. Clara backed away to a safe distance, watching as smoke rose from the body.

  Just as he burst into flames, the whoosh overcame his screams. Clara’s eyes began to water as the life giving heat made her feel warm for the first time tonight. God she needed that!

  Clara now had a name to go on. In a couple of minutes, she would run down to fetch her uniform. She would then head back to the church to find Edith.

  That plan could wait. For now, she would warm up by this bonfire. So far, this was turning out to be a pretty great morning.

  * * * *

  With the heat of the morning sun came a renewed offensive that shifted the lines back to the west. It took thousands of men and millions of tons of munitions to advance even a mile and just like that their fortunes had been reversed.

  Clara used the chaos of battle to make her way back to the church. The first thing she noticed was that there were no traces of Gladys’ body. Fortunately, it looked like Edith had made it out on her own, so Clara went on to their rendezvous point.

  Once she reached the remnants of the home, she heard a bird whistle. Clara replied by varying the chirp and saw Edith come out from the shadows wearing her nurses uniform. Clara’s partner looked very much worse for wear.

  “You look like you had a rough go,” Edith said.

  “I was about to say the same,” Clara replied.

  The girls rarely showed affection, but the long night had heightened their emotions. They hugged one another and sought cover inside so Clara could be debriefed while she changed. With the battle raging on nearby, it was wise to not be seen as a combatant.

  “I awoke with the sun in my eyes,” Edith said. “Took me a bit to remember what happened. Once I realised that I had your coat, I figured you put me there before pursuing your target.”

  Clara nodded and began to recite the entire tale about blowing several large holes in Gladys’ head followed by her chase of the male. Edith listened intently, committing every detail to memory in case they were summoned to substantiate their report.

  “You think the name Drusilla is legitimate?” Edith asked.

  “I don’t know of a Drusilla at the Tower but that name was its dying words,” Clara replied. “At the very least, we should report it.”

  Edith nodded while helping Clara remove the hastily added wrapping and bandages. Bit by bit, she turned back into a mature and sensual woman, the perfect weapon against any man who had an inkling for the feminine form.

  “You took a big risk approaching him dressed like that,” Edith said as a friend.

  “Gladys would never partner with someone who could challenge her authority. So that meant a low level neophyte,” Clara said.

  “Still a big risk,” Edith said and this time she sounded like her superior officer.

  “I know,” Clara said. “That’s why you are here to keep me in line.”

  Edith smirked. The mission would have gone sour had Clara not gone off half-cocked. It was her willingness to take risks that kept them alive.

  “I will omit that from my report,” Edith said.

  All the while, Edith was watching Clara get dressed, long enough to feel a shiver and bit her lower lip to maintain control.

  “Did you find anything near the fence?” Clara asked while she adorned her hat and cloak.

  “Nothing but a few stains of blood,” Edith said.

  That meant that Gladys had managed to heal up enough to escape. She must have gone on a rampage. In the back of her mind, Clara wondered if the withdrawal had been caused by the actions of that enraged creature.

  “She will not be so easily dealt with next time,” Clara said.

  “No she won’t,” Edith said. She then smiled and pulled out a slip of paper, “Oh I almost forgot to mention that I came across this.”

  Clara looked at the piece of paper and for a moment thought these were hieroglyphs. However the iconography was inconsistent with anything known from that period.

  “What are these?” Clara asked.

  Edith shrugged then said, “Not sure. I once came across a reference that mentioned scrolls like these that contain gate symbols to list available destinations.”

  “So… A list of destinations and their sequence?” Clara asked.

  “Possibly. Either way I will have to include it with my report,” Edith said.

  That revelation explained a lot of their trouble in the region. While their portals had been shut down for security reasons, it seemed that these creatures had maintained the status quo. That meant they were able to pop in and out to sow discord just like Gladys had.

  At least now, she knew why they were dressed as they were. No one could make it that far in No-Man’s-Land without getting dirty.

  “We need to hurry. Casualties will be piling up by the time we get there,” Edith added.

  “No rest for the wicked,” Clara said with a sly grin.

  SAINT BARBARA’S WRATH

  1915

  The girls were run off their feet the moment they got back to the field hospital. While casualties piled up faster than they could handle, Clara prayed that none of the patients showed signs of an animal attac
k. Alas, there were times when a pyrrhic victory was the only reward for being right.

  Her hunch had been dead on; that thing had almost decimated an entire company of soldiers. This senseless mass murder had been necessary to satiate her bloodlust and regenerate. Clara felt guilty for what she had unwittingly unleashed and promised that Gladys would get the fate she deserved.