Michael Belmont and the Heir of Van Helsing (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) (43 page)

The girls spun around to see a pair of large, yellow eyes glaring out at them.

“Who are you?” Magda demanded.

“No, the question is, who are
you
?
 
I guess it doesn’t really matter though.
 
Looks like I get to dine at home tonight.”
 
The thing moved a little closer while speaking to them, and its dirty face broke through the darkness to give them a better look.
 
It was a werewolf.
 
He was changing right before their eyes.

Abigail shrieked, and Magda let out a defiant grunt, stepping back into a defensive stance and bracing for the monster’s attack.

“Stay behind me, Abby,” she said while raising her daggers.
 
But before her words were finished, Abigail lunged forward with her Chinese chain whip; striking out with every bit of fury and strength she had left.

The creature let out a sharp yelp before tumbling to the floor.
 
The whip had gone straight through its right eye.

Abigail yanked the chain back angrily while Magda stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“I don’t care much for werewolves,” Abigail explained in a shaken voice.

“I can see that.
 
Hey, look there.”
 
She pointed to the end of the whip lying at Abby’s feet.
 
The werewolf’s yellow eye was still stuck to the dart at the end.

“OH GROSS!
 
STUPID WEREWOLVES ARE SO DISGUSTING!”
 
Abby yelled, trying several times to whip the thing off, but it was no use.
 
She finally stepped down upon it and pulled the whip free, and then kicked the eye off into the darkness.

She looked back at Magda, who was grinning at her with pride and bewilderment.
 
Abigail just frowned at her and shrugged.

“You kill monsters well,” Magda told her.

“Thanks,” sighed Abigail, standing with crossed legs.
 
“I…I suddenly need to pee.”

Alucard lay on the cold stone of the dungeon floor.
 
Only a bit of light came in from beneath the door, shed by a nearby torch on the wall.
 
It served as a constant reminder that he had no idea what time it was, and whether day or night he could not tell.
 
The air was stale and rank, making each breath seem like a filthy chore.
 
He was bruised and naked, and was beginning to lose all hope of escaping.
 
He’d been in this cell for days and days, how many he could not tell, with nothing more than Mihnea’s parting words ringing through his head to keep him company.
 
“I’ve got wonderful plans for you, little brother.
 
Father never got the chance, but I know what he had planned for you, and now you’re blood is mine!”

Alucard wasn’t afraid of dying, in fact, perhaps that was long overdue.
 
What he was afraid of was failing his friends, and allowing Mihnea to obtain greater power.
 
He searched his thoughts once again for any bit of knowledge, any forgotten thing that might help him escape, but once again he could think of nothing.

The dungeon of Castle Dracula was held together with more than simple mortar and stone.
 
This was a place protected by all sorts of dark magic.
 
Alucard knew that greater men and creatures than he had tried and failed to escape from its depths.
 
Some invisible force was even preventing him from changing form.
 
Every time he tried, a wave of agony swept over him, and he would pass out, awaking later to find himself covered in a cold sweat.

His mind kept turning to Elizabeth, a woman whom he’d never met, but had set out to help.
 
He had failed her.
 
The thought tortured him.
 
He didn’t know what she looked like, but every time he thought of her he pictured his own mother.
 
He couldn’t allow Elizabeth to end up like her.
 
He only hoped that Mihnea loved her enough to prevent any harm from befalling her until he could escape.

Escape?
 
There it was again.
 
Hope.
 
Gnawing away at him like a rat on an old bone.
 
He closed his eyes and began to pray.
 
When he was a boy, he’d spent hours alone with his mother in prayer.
 
Now, it was the only thing that gave him comfort.

After a while, he heard the rattling of chains.
 
It was probably Igor, one of his father’s many failed experiments, who’d been assigned to feed him.
 
He was an inhuman, detestable creature both in nature and appearance, but he was loyal, you had to give him that.
 
He had first served his creator, and now he served the man’s heir.
 
He held Alucard in high regard, although he would never side with him against his greater master.

Twice a day he would bring a meal of roasted rats, dried bugs, or some other disgusting thing.
 
In Igor’s eyes these meals were delicious, and bringing such things to Alucard was one of the creature’s rare displays of kindness.

Alucard listened.
 
Although he’d heard the familiar rattle of Igor’s chains, he didn’t hear the usual scrape they made as the creature dragged them across the floor.
 
Now he heard something different; was it the sound of footsteps?
 
He couldn’t be sure.

An ear-piercing screech ripped him out of his thoughts and caused him to sit up in shock.
 
The door to his cell had been ripped from its hinges.
 
There was a terrible light, which burned his eyes, and he had to shield them from it.
 
After a few moments the light subsided, and he looked to see a tall form standing in front of him.

“Who…who are you?” he asked in a raspy voice, moving his hands away from his eyes.

“I was sent to give you a hand,” said the stranger.
 
“Looks like you really got yourself into a pickle this time.
 
The Captain was right, there’s no way you could have gotten out of here on your own.”
 
The stranger smiled and turned to leave.

“Wait,” pleaded Alucard.
 
“Thank you.
 
Please, tell me your name.”

The stranger hesitated and shook his head.
 
“It doesn’t matter.
 
We’ll meet again someday, I’ll tell you then.”

Before Alucard could say another word, the man was gone, and he was left sitting alone in his cell once again, but this time he was free.

Michael beat on the door with both his fists until his hands were bleeding.

 
“Look, it’s obvious that we aren’t getting through that door,” Liam told him.
 
“I’m sure the girls will be fine.
 
That Magda seems like a pretty tough girl.”

Michael gritted his teeth.
 
“This place is an absolute nightmare.
 
I never actually believed we’d be separated.
 
It’s like the castle itself is working against us.”

“I think you might be right.
 
This place sure feels different from McGinty Castle, or any other castle I’ve been in, really.
 
I feel like we’re constantly being watched.”

Michael put on his backpack and slung his bow over his shoulder.

“Let’s try and find another path to the throne room.
 
We need to get there as quick as we can, hopefully we’ll meet the girls on the way.”

Liam picked up his things, which were scattered across the floor.

He held up Michael’s faery lantern so they could have a good look around.
 
A long purple carpet ran the length of the room from door to door.
 
Large tapestries hung from the walls on both sides, which portrayed scenes of knights going on a unicorn hunt.

Together the boys walked along the wall to the right hand side of the door where they’d come in, following it around the corner and down the long wall.
 
When they came to the third tapestry, Michael noticed that some of the cobwebs were dancing gently through the air.
 
He hadn’t noticed this anywhere else.
 
Placing his hand near the wall, he could feel a draft of cool air.

He showed Liam.
 
“Put your hand right here, can you feel it?”

Liam nodded.

The two of them pulled the tapestry away from the wall to look behind.
 
There didn’t appear to be anything unusual, just solid brick.

“I don’t see anything, but where is this draft coming from?”
 
Michael let his end of the tapestry swing back against the wall, and so did Liam.

“Wait a minute,” Liam said, stooping down to the floor.
 
“What do you make of this?”

Michael bent down to take a closer look.
 
There was something unusual about the bricks.
 
It was barely noticeable, but they didn’t line up as smoothly as the others around them.

“I think this might be a passageway,” Liam said excitedly.

Michael was about to ask him how he knew, but then realized how stupid that would be.
 
Liam had grown up in a castle, after all.

“Yes, he said happily.
 
“I can feel the draft much stronger here, it’s coming up through the floor.”

Michael felt it too.
 
“Okay, now we just need to figure out how to activate it.”

They looked all around, but couldn’t find anything unusual.

“There has to be something nearby.
 
It wouldn’t make sense for the switch to be more than a few feet away.”
 
Michael ran his fingers along the brick wall.
 
He yanked on a torch holder, which was fastened securely; it wouldn’t budge.

Liam held the lantern up above his head.

“Hey, look up there.
 
The chain that’s holding up this tapestry doesn’t look quite like the others.”

Michael could see what he was talking about.
 
The difference was subtle, but the chain that held the tapestry in front of them wasn’t just secured to the wall, it looked like it was run through the brick.

They each grabbed an edge and pulled down.
 
A moment later, the bricks in the floor began to sink down into a spiral stairway.

Michael frowned.
 
“Well, I don’t know if we’re going to like where this leads us, but at least it’s a way out.”

Liam popped a fresh clip into his gun.
 
“Let’s get going then.
 
But I have a feeling we’re taking the long way to the throne room.”

Michael took the lead as they crept down the stairs, which seemed to go on and on.
 
They couldn’t see very far ahead, and tried to stay as quiet as possible to avoid giving any enemy a heads up.
 
Michael wondered what might be waiting for them at the bottom, and if there was anything, he hoped to get the jump on it rather than the other way around.

Upon reaching the bottom, they found themselves in some kind of dungeon.

“Well, this place looks cheerful,” Liam said glumly.
 
“I’m glad we signed up for the extended tour.”

Michael gazed down into the dark chamber as far as his eyes would take him.
 
There were barred iron doors along both sides.
 
“You just reloaded that gun, right?”

“Yup,” Liam nodded.

“Let’s do it then,” Michael said, starting forward.
 
“Who knows, we might be pleasantly surprised by where this takes us.”

“Someplace cheery, I hope,” agreed Liam.
 
“The petting-zoo perhaps?”

The blue rays of Michael’s faery lantern devoured the blackness around them.
 
He wondered how long it had been since any sort of light had touched these walls.
 
The air was dank and stale.
 
Everything was quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the falls of their feet.

Movement caught Michael’s eye as they were passing one of the cells.
 
He stopped and turned his head to see the large form of a man standing behind the bars, gazing out at them.
 
He was dark and muscular, and altogether ugly.
 
His skin had a sick, greenish hue, and his clothes were torn and tattered.
 
Like some grotesque human quilting project, his body was littered with sloppy looking stitch marks.
 
He smiled maliciously, and reached up to grab the bars with both hands, shaking them violently.
 
The horrible sound rang through the dungeon, and from the way the loose cage door clanked against the stone, it was evident that this man, if you could call him that, had been trying to shake them loose for quite some time.

Liam began to pull his friend away.
 
“Uh, I don’t feel like being around when that bloke finally succeeds at taking those bars down.”
 

Together they tore past the cells, speeding through strange shadows and sounds as they went, never daring to slow down and take a look.
 
After a while, Michael felt certain that something was chasing them, but he kept running as fast as he could without looking back until they came to another stairwell at the end of the passage.

Finally turning to look, they were both relieved to see that the coast was clear.
 
“I wonder how long that thing has been locked up down here?” Michael sputtered through heavy breaths.
 
“You want to rest for a minute?”