one

A shrill cry rose above the steady drumming of the rainy summer night. Abraham Van Helsing looked up from the mess of papers strewn across his desk. He stood, and crossed the small office. He proceeded into the waiting area, and strode up to the large windows. He peered out, cupping his hand over his eyes. From down the street, he could see a figure running, dressed in white. He moved to the door, and opened it, sticking his head out into the driving rain. The figure was getting nearer. He could now discern that it was a woman. He stepped out into the street.

"Excuse me, Frauline, are you well?" he asked. The woman ran past Van Helsing, and disappeared around a corner.

Van Helsing glanced down the lane. It was empty, save for a stray cat, scrounging what it could from the refuse dumped in the gutter. He looked back to where the woman had ran. He paused, then began running after her.

It was like chasing a ghost. Every time Van Helsing would catch a glimpse of the woman, she would disappear around a corner. The lashing rain didn't help, either.

Finally, Van Helsing burst into the main street. He quickly looked about, and caught sight of the woman. She was stopped cold. She cocked her head slightly, as if listening to something. Van Helsing strained his ears, listening desperately for any sound. All he could hear was the relentless pounding of the rain, and his own beating heart.

Ever so slowly, the woman turned her head, finally resting her eyes on Van Helsing's. He froze, terror gripping his heart. He could not justify the feeling; it was merely a young girl; but he could not will himself to approach her. It was as if his very soul was arrested by the evil gaze. Suddenly, she bolted down the street toward the high wall of the cemetery, moving at an incredible, even inhuman speed. Van Helsing recovered, and ran down the street after her again.

As she approached the wall, Van Helsing expected her to slow down, to turn. But she kept up her ungodly speed, and, when Van Helsing was certain she would collide with the brick face, she leapt, vaulting the wall with ease.

Van Helsing slowed, and stopped. He could not believe that anyone-or anything-could have made it over the wall in a single bound. The wall was at least twelve feet high, built to keep out grave robbers and rogue physicians. It simply wasn't possible. Overwhelmed, Van Helsing turned and began walking back up the street, toward his office.

It was nearly an hour later when Abraham Van Helsing stood in front of the door of his home, fishing in his pockets for the key. He located it in his left breast pocket, unlocked the door, and stepped into his home. He hesitated a moment, blinking in the light. Compared to the moonlit streets, the warm glow of his living room was quite bright. He'd usually been home before nightfall. But then again, he wasn't usually chasing people through the wet streets of Rotterdam.

He removed his coat and hat, placing them on the rack. He caught his image in the mirror just inside the living room. His dark hair was slick with rain, and his clothing was rumpled and wet. He hoped Katrin had gone to bed; his appearance would worry her. He walked through the living room and into his study. There was a fire burning cheerily in the fireplace, and he noticed a figure sitting in a plush armchair. He turned, and smiled. His wife was watching him over her book, her eyes the only exposed part of her face. Her eyes twinkled; she was smiling. He smiled back. She closed her book, set it on the table next to the chair, and rose. She walked over to him, and embraced him. He took her in his arms.

She leaned back slightly, looking up into his eyes. Her expression became more concerned. "I was so worried about you, Abraham."

"I'm sorry to have worried you, my dear. It was quite a busy night at the office."

She arched her eyebrow. He smiled again, and kissed his wife on the forehead.

"I'm going to get cleaned up, and change. You go ahead upstairs; it's really to late for you to be waiting up," he said, letting go of her and moving toward the door.

"Oh Abraham, I nearly forgot. Lord Montaigne, the wealthy man who lives just outside Rotterdam, he stopped by earlier this evening."

"Oh? What did he want?" Van Helsing asked.

"He didn't say, only that he wanted to speak with you. I invited him in for tea, since he had come all that way for nothing."

"Will he be back?"

"Eventually," she said quietly, looking at the floor. "Eventually."

Van Helsing looked at his wife. He noticed she was paler than usual, and she seemed rather frail in the firelight. She looked back up at him, and smiled.