Where There is Darkness

By: Highlander II

Category: Alternate Universe, Fantasy
Archive: Please ask.
Spoilers: Van Helsing
Rating: NC-17: (skip) Non-consensual sexual encounters, mind control, bondage, spanking/caning, character death.
Summary: What happens if Van Helsing doesn't defeat the Dracula beast and is taken prisoner instead? Carl and Anna have to locate Van Helsing and rescue him from Dracula's clutches before The Knights of the Holy Order learns what is going on and sends another army of operatives after the rogue monster hunter. In the meantime, Van Helsing has to survive his incarceration without losing his mind.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words on this page; the characters belong to Stephen Sommers and Universal pictures.
Notes: Written for scifibigbang 2010. Art by: sanadafaye
Feedback: Highlander II

Part II

Van Helsing curled himself into a corner. This room was new – again. How many had it been? He'd lost count after the first ten or fifteen times he had been tied to Dracula's bed and stroked off - sometimes to orgasm, sometimes just to the brink. He had hated all of it.

This new room was no better than the previous one. It was smaller, but still devoid of furnishings or even blankets. And it was still freezing. Some days his body shook so hard he couldn't sleep, the shudders woke him so abruptly he was afraid bones would break. Most days, he thought death would be better than this - even hell, at least he'd be warm.

Beyond the shivering, he felt violated. Dracula had taken control of not only his mind, but his body as well. The vampire had made him hard, made him come - just through touching. On some subconscious level, though, he had enjoyed it and that scared him more than anything else. He didn't understand how he could take pleasure from something he found so revolting. Even the thought nauseated him.

He heard Dracula's hollow laugh and turned his face into the corner, not wanting to face the vampire again. He just wanted to be left alone, to find a way out or a way to die, despite the growing warmth in his groin and the desire to be someplace with heat.

"I can still see you, Gabriel. You cannot hide from me."

Van Helsing said nothing, trying to pretend Dracula wasn't there, trying to pretend it was all a dream. If it was a dream, he would wake up and kill whatever was torturing him, but if not, he would have to continue to endure being the source of Dracula's sexual gratification.

The only solace he found was that Dracula had not violated him in these cold, barren rooms. It was as close as he could get to Sanctuary. As long as he was in these room, he could send his mind off into a world where he was being tortured for information via more traditional means and not being sexually molested at the hands of an immortal enemy.

"Gabriel, why do you cower in the corner?" Dracula asked as he crossed the stone floor. He combed his fingers through Van Helsing's hair as he knelt beside him. His fingers caught under Van Helsing's chin to turn his head. "I know you are craving my attentions. I know that look you get. I've seen it before, my pet."

Lips close enough to kiss and Dracula made sure he could feel how close they were. He licked his lips and could taste the stale air from the vampire's mouth. For a moment, he thought Dracula was going to kiss him.

"Gabriel, you belong to me now. There is nothing you can do to change that." Dracula closed his eyes and sniffed at Van Helsing's neck, took in the scent of his prisoner. One day he might even taste him. Then he commanded, "Get up. On your feet."

Van Helsing started, knocked his head against the wall and blinked against the pain. "Wh-what?" His teeth clattered together even after he was done speaking.

"Stand. Up," Dracula repeated.

He hesitated, then pushed himself to his feet, knees still wobbly from exhaustion and cold. Dracula slid hands along his sides and over his chest as he rose with him. That made Van Helsing shudder more. He yelped as Dracula's strong hand curled around his cock and began to stroke, long and slow.

Please no. Not here. No. Van Helsing's breath caught in his throat and he dropped his head forward in defeat. It took every ounce of energy he could muster just to hold back tears.

"What did I tell you, Gabriel?"

Carl stopped by his chambers to drop off his bags before his appointment with Cardinal Jinette. Memories ran thick as he stood in the doorway - he and Van Helsing arguing over weaponry or discussing a recent battle and how to better attack the next time that particular creature came up, telling stories of adventures - Van Helsing's monster related, Carl's sexual interaction related - over cups of warm brandy or walking the streets of Rome to see if anything interesting was happening or any pretty maidens were interested. He missed him. Sure, Van Helsing infuriated him to no end, but that was his problem to be handled on his own time, not by some egotistical vampire with an inferiority complex.

"Carl, the cardinal is waiting for you," the soft voice of a fellow researcher prodded from the doorway.

"Thank you, I'm on my way."

He gathered the book he needed and pulled the door closed behind himself. The walk to the cardinal's offices was long and required him to climb several flights of stairs, but it wasn't something he hadn't grown accustomed to. He rather enjoyed the walk most days. Today wasn't 'most days'. Today was the day he had to convince the cardinal to let him try to save Van Helsing. To say he was not looking forward to this appointment would be to understate the situation considerably.

"Carl, come. Please, have a seat," Jinette invited him in and waved to a chair.

Carl sat, book placed lightly on his lap. There was nothing special about the book, other than it was a collection of recent research notes he had been keeping. "I don't mean to take up much of your time, but I felt you should be apprised of the current situation."

Jinette nodded. "Of course."

The friar swallowed hard as he collected his thoughts. "Sir, Van Helsing was taken prisoner." Start small - he realized the less he said, the easier it would be to get what he needed.

"By whom?"

"Well, by Dracula." Carl tried not to wince; he knew the next line from Jinette could be hard to take.

"And has he been released?"

That explains why I still have my head; Jinette thinks this is a mission debriefing. Say good-bye to my head now though. "Not yet, sir. That's why I'm here."

Cardinal Jinette frowned. "Are you in need of a rescue party?"

"Not yet." The corner of his mouth twitched when he realized he had just said that. "I need to do some research first."

"The library is always at your disposal, Carl."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. But I will be needing to do chemical analysis."


This is why Carl and Van Helsing get along even after things go wrong: "Because I'm not sure I can get through the portal again the same way we did before. The same for returning from Dracula's lair. I have no way of knowing if the portals shift location or remain stationary." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either.

"Very well. Do you require anything else?"

That worked? That was too easy, I think. I wonder if he suspects anything? "A private workspace for ease of concentration would be beneficial."

Jinette laughed. "Do not press your luck, Carl."

Carl grinned. "I had to try. Thank you, sir. I'll get right on this." He nodded to the cardinal as he rose to leave, but stopped short at the cardinal's beckoning. "Yes, sir?" Dammit - caught.

"Bring him back. We need him."

Carl bowed respectfully. "Of course."

"And Carl," the cardinal waited for Carl's attention, "how are you doing with developing a cure for the werewolf curse?"

"Oh, well," he tried very hard not to pause longer than necessary. "It's still in the early stages of development. And werewolves are not so easy to come by for testing. But I do hope to have something soon, your grace."

"Good. Carry on."

Another nod, then he turned and hurried out of the offices before his face flushed so hard it gave away his ruse. Though he really had no way of knowing how the portals worked, if they would at all, he had many more reasons to hide the fact that Van Helsing was a werewolf and under Dracula's control. Had he revealed that piece of information, Jinette surely would have dispatched another operative to 'take care' of Van Helsing and he couldn't let that happen.

After Dracula had left, Van Helsing couldn't hold back any longer and the tears flowed freely down his face and dripped to the filthy floor. He had had to shift corners as the one he had been kneeling in was full of come and vomit. It had taken him half the morning to move those six feet across the room on cold, shaky limbs. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to die.

He should have known that would never happen. He had just fallen asleep when he heard the door slide along the stone floor as it was opened. Eyes closed, hands covering his head, body curled into a ball, Van Helsing tried to pretend he was asleep. His body was shaking violently, but he couldn't tell if it was from cold or fear. Dracula's torture and control had broken him down and he had not yet had time to recover. The sense of loss and desperation angered him - he hated feeling out of control. He hated being out of control.

"Oh, Gabriel..." Dracula semi-sing-songed as he stepped into the room. "I again require your services. You are such a good pet and the full moon is almost upon us. I need you to do something for me." Dracula knelt beside him, brushing a hand through his hair as he spoke. "I know you are not asleep, Gabriel." The hand in his hair tightened and drew his head up sharply. "I need you to visit a friend of mine who is in need of motivation." Dracula leaned in close and whispered in his ear, gave the series of instructions while still petting him like a dog. "Have a bite to eat while you're out, Gabriel. You need to keep your strength up."

Van Helsing was more than prepared to ignore the instructions he had been given, but the sudden twitching of nerves beneath his skin, the indication that the transformation was beginning, told him it would be impossible. The beast broke free with a heavy, hungry roar and raked a huge claw at the door. I wish I could control it - I can't and I'll probably kill someone. This is not who I am. Carl, wherever you are - help me.

Laughing, Dracula opened the door again and needed only to give him a look to make him sit and be calm for a moment. Dracula pushed fingers through the heavy coat of fur, smiling to himself. "My, Gabriel, I may have to find you a playmate." The vampire sighed, then stepped from the doorway. "For now, you have an assignment. Go."

The werewolf licked his chops and bolted through the door and down the corridor. He bounded down the stairs and leapt through a window that overlooked what would've been a garden alongside a normal castle, but was a barren, frozen waste here.

The beast tore through the portal and landed in an isolated part of the Valerious castle. He scented the air to locate his prey and stalked the corridors as silently as possible until he found it.

"Oh dear God!" the portly man exclaimed upon seeing the beast crouched in the doorway. "He sent you, didn't he? To kill me. Because I haven't found what he wants yet. I'm sorry. I'm still searching. I just have very little time. The Princess, you see, she keeps me rather busy with the work around the castle. Please, spare me." The man had been backing away during his stammering and was now pressed against the back wall, his knees knocking together.

The werewolf snorted and turned to go, but spotted an open book on a nearby table. He approached and sniffed at the book, then looked imploringly at the sweating fat man in the corner.

The man stumbled over a few words, then said, "It's a journal. A family history. Pre-Boris, of course, given the wear of the book. I've been studying it to see if there is anything of significance that might lead to what the Master wants. So far, nothing."

With a disgruntled growl, the werewolf turned and left the room. To return to Dracula's castle, he would have to cross to the other side of the Valerious castle without being detected. He climbed to the roof and leapt between the towers to the far side of the castle. He carefully scaled the wall down to the balcony and nudged the door open with his nose.

The werewolf looked up sharply at the gasp heard inside the room and tried to remain still, hoping the blackness of night would be enough cover to hide him. He closed his eyes and kept his breathing shallow. From the scent, he knew it was Anna, but he didn't want her to see him like this.

"My God! Velkan?" she asked in shock as she stepped closer, peering at him through the darkness.

The werewolf turned his head away from her, fighting the urges to tear her to shreds or plead with his eyes for her to kill him. He just wanted to go back to his cold, dank hole in Dracula's castle and die. Anything to not have to face the people he was meant to protect.

Anna stepped closer. "No, not Velkan. Then who?" She tried to get a good look, but he snarled in her face to keep her away. Face set, she canted her hips to one side and bared her throat. "Bite me. Make me a werewolf. Turn me into what you are."

Curious, confused, the werewolf tilted his head at her, then snorted derisively and turned to exit to the balcony. As he stepped through the door, clouds covered the brightness of the full moon and his human form returned in a flurry of shed wolf-fur. Standing on shaky legs, Van Helsing nearly passed out from exhaustion, but braced himself against a wall.

"No. Van Helsing?" Anna gasped, hand moving to cover her mouth.

"Bring me that beaker," Carl called, waving a hand toward the other end of the work table.

He poured chemicals together, set them to simmer over a flame, then scribbled notes in a notebook and made several calculations while he waited. When the first mixture was complete, he started another and made more notes. This had been his routine for the last several days and he felt he was no closer to a solution than he had been when he began, yet still, he persisted.

"Do we have a test subject?" he asked his assistant.

"Um, not yet, Carl. We're still looking. It's difficult to capture a werewolf when there is not a full moon. More-so when the wolf tries to eat you."

Carl scowled. "But it is the full moon." Were these people just monumentally stupid or had he missed something?

"Yes, but that means we only have three days to capture the subject and get it here for testing. The rest of the month, it is difficult to find a suitable subject."

"Keep trying." Less stupid than I thought. "I can't test this without a subject."

The assistant nodded. "We are, Carl. We're doing the best we can."

Carl looked up in time to see the assistant disappear through the door.

A weapon being test-fired in the background made Carl close his eyes against a flood of memories. He had always been intrigued and mildly annoyed at Van Helsing's reactions to new weaponry. It saddened him to think many of these new items would be wasted on other operatives who lacked Van Helsing's appreciation.

He rested his head on his arms on the table. Working day and night for the last week had exhausted him, but he needed these answers. A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he lifted his head, hoping it was Van Helsing. He groaned at the realization that it wasn't.

"Carl, you should rest. You've been on this for days. Come on. You'll burn yourself out."

Carl said nothing, but rose and slipped past his fellow friar and made his way to his own small room. He sat on his bed, skipped the prayers and went straight for the tears. He wanted his friend back so badly. He'll never know how much I need him.

"Anna?" Van Helsing gripped the wall, trying to remain upright.

"My God. We've been... I mean... are you – free?" Anna stepped closer, reaching out to him.

"Stop." He shook his head. "No. He'll call me back." Breathing hard, holding back the transformation as much as he could, he snarled at her. "You want to become what I am? To be imprisoned in a form you cannot control?" he asked in disgust. His guts lurched at the thought.

Anna shook her head in return. "No. I – I want to be with you." She took several breaths. "I didn't know of any other way. I didn't know this was you. Van Helsing…"

Teeth clenched, he held a hand toward her to keep her away. "Stay back. Stay away." Van Helsing backed up as far as he could. "I will never… I couldn't do that to anyone. I can't…"

She stepped towards him. "But – " her voice caught in her throat. "I – " she stopped where she was when he snarled at her as the transformation was beginning. For a moment, she feared for her life, but the werewolf growled, leapt past her and disappeared through an old mirror.

The werewolf tumbled into the icy castle and slid across the corridor. It slammed into the opposite wall with a solid 'thud'. Back on its feet, it stalked through the castle to locate its master.

"So, you have returned. I do hope Sergei is better motivated now." Dracula held out his hand, beckoning the beast to his side. He shook his head lightly. "You could have had a playmate – or a meal – but you left her alive. I will have to train you better, my pet."

The werewolf sat at the vampire's side, snarling, growling. When Dracula's hand sifted into its fur, it immediately fell silent. Inside, Van Helsing's subconscious was reeling; he wanted to be free of the beast, of Dracula's hold, of all of this.

"Come now, the moon is almost gone and I need you to entertain me for a few hours." Dracula led the werewolf, all sleek black fur and rippling muscles, back to his room. He waited, the picture of patience, for the moon to go down and the wolf to subside. He smiled as Van Helsing's exhausted, sweat slicked body slumped to the floor. "Would you like to be warm, Gabriel?"

Van Helsing didn't even have the strength to respond with a groan. He remained on the floor, limbs splayed as he had landed. Yes, he did want to be warm, but he really wanted to eat. He was starving – since he refused to kill as the wolf and Dracula had seen fit to only bring him a few crusts of bread – he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent meal. He also needed to sleep; without sleep he was too tired to even think about finding food.

Dracula, however, had other plans. Van Helsing wasn't sure when, exactly, Dracula had removed his own clothing, but the vampire was naked and kneeling on the floor over Van Helsing's head. Tiredly, he blinked up and saw Dracula's cock, erect and waiting, just above his face. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, holding back a wave of nausea. There was no way he would put that thing in his mouth, nor would he touch it. It was bad enough that Dracula was doing things to him, worse if Dracula made him do things in return.

Van Helsing's eyes popped open the instant he felt lips touch his own cock. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked without thinking.

The vampire stretched his tongue out to trace it around the head of Van Helsing's cock, licking and tasting. "Mmm- Gabriel, you may enjoy this nearly as much as I will." His head ducked back down to tease.

Sour-faced, Van Helsing closed his eyes again and turned his head as far from the scene as he could get it. "Please, stop." It wasn't quite begging, but it did strain his voice. He didn't want to know how it felt to have Dracula pleasure him with his mouth; he didn't want to come for Dracula; he didn't want to be here at all. But somewhere, in the deep recesses of his mind, he could feel himself slipping away; beginning to desire the touch, longing for it if only to not be alone.

If not for the cock in his mouth, Dracula might have smiled, having sensed the earliest beginnings of a surrender from the monster hunter. Yes, Gabriel, you will belong to me in mind and body by the time I am finished with you. I will make you crave my touch, my presence. You will want me like you used to. He opened his mouth and took Van Helsing all the way into his throat, pulling a deep, half-strangled moan from his prisoner.

It was there again – that strange sensation that somehow he knew what Dracula meant. 'But he didn't have time to focus on that while also fighting hard against the physical cravings of his body; his body that wanted to be touched so badly; his body that wanted the release of sexual tension; his body that betrayed his mind every time. So cold, so tired, so hungry, but his body moved to get more contact with Dracula's. He moaned and his hands reached to clasp Dracula's hips, though he wasn't sure if it was in a vain attempt to remove the vampire from his chest or to hold him in place. His hips gave a sharp upward thrust and he felt the release as he spilled himself into Dracula's waiting mouth. In his mind, he was almost begging, Please stop - no more -, but his body was crying out for more.

"No! Dammit!" Carl cursed as he watched the test subject writhe and flail, convulsing on the ground until, ultimately, he stopped moving and breathing.

"I thought it wouldn't harm the subject?" Jinette asked, not pleased.

"It isn't supposed to," Carl replied with a grumble. "I ran the calculations a dozen times, mixed the chemicals myself."

"Run them again," Jinette ordered, then turned and left the containment area.

Carl slammed a hand against the cage in sheer frustration. "It should have worked." He was so focused on re-running the calculations in his head, he didn't notice the pain in his hand.

An assistant came by with some notes and frowned at Carl. "What did you do to your hand?" He took Carl's hand in his own, examining the spreading purple bruise across the knuckles.

Carl tried to snatch his hand back, but the movement caused a blinding pain. "Nothing," he hissed.

The assistant was far from convinced. "I think you've broken your finger. We need to get this set so it will heal."

This time Carl did manage to snatch his hand free. "No. I don't have time, Mark."

"Of course you do. You can't do another live test until tomorrow anyway. Come on. We're getting this hand looked at." Mark dragged Carl to the infirmary, using less force than he figured he'd need.


"Ow, dammit!" Carl snapped when the medic pressed against a tender section of his hand.

The medic snarled and continued to examine the friar's hand. "I have to set the bone. It'll hurt." That was all the warning he gave before tugging Carl's fingers into place, ignoring the desperate howl of pain. "I'll splint it and you'll have to keep the splint on until I remove it or the bone will not heal properly."

"Fine. As long as I can still work."

"I think you should rest, Carl. Let your body heal."

Carl narrowed his eyes at the medic. "I have work to do."

He let the medic splint his finger, then he left. He needed to go over those calculations again. Van Helsing was depending on him.

Every night, the same basic routine – he would just get to sleep and Dracula would appear at the door. He would resist, but Dracula's control would win and he was taken to Dracula's chambers. On the floor, on a chair, on the bed – Van Helsing would be placed somewhere and Dracula would stroke him or suck him or both. It all disgusted him, he wanted nothing to do with it. The only problem was, his body betrayed him every time.

Dracula loved coming to the small, cold room to find that Van Helsing's cock was beginning to grow hard. The vampire would then parade him down the corridor, whispering into his head things that would be done to him.

I'm going to scrape fingernails down your chest and suck on your cock, Gabriel. Would you like that?

He would wince and mutter 'no', but his cock would twitch and his stomach, flip at the suggestions. The techniques themselves would be pleasurable with the right partner. Dracula was not what he considered the 'right' partner.

Then, when he was ready to come, Dracula would say, "Tell me, Gabriel. Tell me you don’t love the sensation. Tell me you don't want to spill in my hand!"

He never could – his body desired the feelings, the release, the contact. Only his mouth ever said 'no'. Dracula could sense his body's true reaction and would begin his ministrations again – working Van Helsing to hardness, pushing him to orgasm.

The one thing he couldn't remember was if Dracula had ever climaxed during one of their encounters. He thought back over his imprisonment, but could find no instance where he could recall Dracula having an orgasm. Why? There had to be a reason.

Van Helsing's mind was forming a plan of its own.

When Dracula came for him, his cock grew hard, like always, he resisted the mental seduction and was revolted during Dracula's display of oral sex technique. Then, when Dracula began to stroke Van Helsing, he shifted his leg to brush against Dracula's cock.

He heard the vampire's deep, throaty moan and did it again.

"Gabriel, you must stop or I will hurt you," Dracula growled.

"I am s-sorry… M-master," he stammered. "My leg is cramped." Which was only a half-lie. He shifted his leg again, then felt Dracula's hips moving to rub his cock against Van Helsing's thigh.

The vampire growled, but kept his hand on Van Helsing's cock – stroking it while he rubbed his own against the coarse hair on his prisoner's leg. "Gabriel, I will punish you for your insolence."

"I- I'm sorry… I didn't…" Van Helsing found his mouth covered with Dracula's free hand. The vampire was strong and Van Helsing feared he might break his jaw.

With the increased thrusting against his leg, Dracula's grip on his mouth tightened. He was beginning to have difficulty breathing, more trouble moaning as he came in Dracula's hand.

Suddenly, he felt the sticky liquid against his leg and the hand lift from his mouth. Teeth shown white in Dracula's mouth as he snarled down at Van Helsing. "I warned you." The teeth clamped down on Van Helsing's shoulder and he howled in pain.

His brain's plan had been a bad idea.

Van Helsing was prepared to meet his fate when he realized something was odd about Dracula. He shifted his gaze to the vampire – he was asleep. Had the sun come up? Theoretically, as the light in this place never changed. He couldn't be sure.

However, he was not going to pass up the fortuitous opportunity to crawl, easily, out of the bed and slide into the heavy robe Dracula frequently wore. The sudden warmth and weight of the garment almost had him in tears of elation, but his mind was focused on one thing – escape.

End Part II

Part III