DR. FRANKENSTEIN'S VAN HELSING
                                  by Ethan Nahté

            The wind whipped and howled through the trees of the ancient

            Wallachian forest. Slices of silvery moonlight penetrated the

            canopy of leaves and branches, catching a glimpse of a man

            making his way along a small path. Though large, he appeared

            twice his bulk because he was carrying a burlap bag over his

            shoulder. The noise from the wind and the crunching of leaves

            and twigs below his feet made him almost deaf to any other

            sound beyond the drumming of his own pulse. Lawrence wasn't

            necessarily afraid of the dark, but he had a healthy respect

            for it when carrying a corpse to a secret burial ground. He

            could smell the stench, which meant that any predator within

            a mile could smell it as well, especially with the wind

            carrying the offal throughout the trees and up the mountain

            slope.


            He looked behind him. He could barely see the light from the

            few flickering candles in the lower windows of Tirgoviste

            Sanitarium, sitting high upon a hill at the foot of the

            mountain. Once it was an outpost, with towering, stone walls

            built against the stony landscape. From it's turrets,

            soldiers could see the open valley below and keep an eye on

            the forests that surrounded it, secure in the belief that

            only a mountain goat could travel the rocky terrain behind

            the fortress. They had soon learned that occasional tremors

            and earthquakes could pummel them now and again. Portions had

            been rebuilt time and again where large boulders had struck

            with such force that the inhabitants thought the world was

            coming to an end.  


            Now, the keep had been designated as a sanctuary for the

            terminally ill and insane. It wasn't so much a sanctuary for

            the patients as it was for the village a mile or two down the

            road. This kept them apart from those stricken with incurable

            maladies and madness. They left the infirm to the genius of

            Doctors Van Helsing and Frankenstein.  


            Both men were obviously talented in the art of medicine. Van

            Helsing had traveled most of Europe and parts of Asia. He was

            well-versed in customs, folklore and history. He had studied

            many medical techniques and was deemed to be at the forefront

            of his field. He had come to the foreboding darkness of

            Wallachia, seeking Dr. Frankenstein - a man who had a growing

            reputation for being brilliant…and possibly mad. Van Helsing

            had heard of Frankenstein's theories of the human body as a

            capacitor for energy. Nothing more than a living battery that

            could be charged and charged again, providing man with the

            power of immortality, in theory. The doctors sat and

            discussed theories, medicine, science and even religion. 


            Though Van Helsing had been here long enough to do some good

            at the sanitarium and even pass some of his knowledge to

            Frankenstein, he had not been here as long as Lawrence. Van

            Helsing had not yet gained the trust of the mad doctor. He

            had not been allowed to see the secret laboratory that was

            hidden away in the uppermost tower. Lawrence had seen it more

            times than he'd like to recall during the past thirteen

            years. Time and again, poor souls whose time had come were

            carried up to that macabre operating room, filled with

            electrical machines, jars of disembodied parts and torturous

            devices of surgery. Lawrence wasn't sure what it was all for,

            but he knew that he would take his burden to the lab and

            leave as quickly as possible, trying not to imagine what

            would happen to his own body should he have the misfortune of

            dying while working as an attendant and grounds keeper for

            the hospital. This was also the reason that candles were

            primarily used at night, so the energy reserves could be

            dedicated to the machines.  


            He tried not to ever let his imagination get the best of him,

            even when he was taking a corpse to be secreted away and

            despite the rumors of ghosts and vampires that roamed the

            forests in the dead of the night. The woman had died in her

            sleep, so they said. She was emaciated and had been withering

            away for some time. Her frail body was evidently of no use to

            Frankenstein. Van Helsing had been in the village to meet a

            stagecoach carrying supplies, so he was both unaware and

            unable to examine her when Frankenstein gave the order to

            dispose of her body. He did not have the opportunity to

            examine the two small holes below the victim's left breast

            where Frankenstein hadn't bothered to look.


            Now, as he marched through the darkness gripping a special

            spade, he tried to keep his mind on the task at hand and his

            eyes and ears wide open. Still, he never heard the wolf sneak

            up on him until the moment the ferocious beast sprang from

            the bushes and landed upon Lawrence's chest, knocking him to

            the ground, forcing the body to drop and roll down a small

            incline. 


            He struggled with the snapping jaws as the creature's sharp

            claws ripped at him. A foulness absconded from the mouth and

            saliva oozed from between the blood-stained teeth. The wolf

            was larger and more powerful than any he had ever seen. It

            lunged for his throat. Instinctively, Lawrence threw his arm

            in front of him as a sacrifice. The steel jaws clamped down

            tightly and locked on, breaking the skin and sinking into

            nerves and bones. With a powerful stroke, he brought the

            silver handle of the spade down on the wolf's broad head,

            momentarily causing more pain as the jaws clamped down even

            tighter before releasing. He let out a sorrowful yelp as

            Lawrence hit him again - and again, until the head was

            nothing but a mushy pulp. 




                                         #


            Dr. Frankenstein inspected the bleeding wound and had a nurse

            see to it. He despised having to be called from his work, but

            it would be in bad form not to check on his long-time

            assistant. 


            "Get some rest and drink plenty of liquids. You may have some

            fever throughout the night, but I believe you'll be alright.

            I'll check on you in the morning."


            "Thank you, Doctor."


            "Nurse, mix this with some tea and give it to him to calm his

            nerves and help him sleep." Frankenstein handed her a small

            jar filled with herbs.  


            "Yes, Doctor," she said as he left the room and returned to

            his lab.




                                         #


            Lawrence awoke late the next evening. He recalled Dr.

            Frankenstein checking on him early that morning. Then Dr. Van

            Helsing had returned and took a look at his wound, perplexed

            by the rapid healing of such a vicious bite.


            A feeling of uneasiness fell upon him. He quickly turned his

            head and looked at the window. A gaunt figure of a

            woman floating. 


            "This can't be real," he murmured. "It's the ghost of the

            woman I was to bury."


            She reached for the window. Her lips retracted into a rictus

            smile and her black pearl eyes glazed with lust. Suddenly,

            her thoughts and desire were abandoned! She whipped her head

            to the north.


            "If I'm not dreaming, what could frighten such a nightmare,"

            he asked himself, all the while, sensing something was

            approaching.


            A shadowy form ripped through the scene before him. The woman

            let out a harrowing scream before being grasped in the

            clutches of whatever sped past the window. Then, they were

            gone.


            A nurse came rushing in, followed quickly by Dr.

            Frankenstein. They found Lawrence cowering in a corner, his

            pallor ashen.


            "Dear God! What has happened? What was that scream?"


            "She…she came back for me, but something took her away."


            "Who came back for you?"


            "The woman who died yesterday. The one you wanted me to take

            care of, doctor."


            "Impossible! It must be the fever. Nurse, please make sure

            Lawrence is calmed." Then he whispered, "See that he's

            constrained. We don't want him hurting himself or others."


            She nodded and turned to Lawrence, holding out a hand to help

            him up. "Now, now Mr. Talbot. Let's get you back to bed."


            Dr. Frankenstein was exiting the room when another scream

            echoed throughout the halls from the next level. He raced to

            the stairwell and bounded up them two at a time. He could see

            another nurse standing in front of a doorway just a few feet

            away. She was shivering and holding her hands to her face as

            if she was going to be sick.


            "What is it," he yelled.


            She pointed at the floor as he made his way to the door.

            There he found Dr. Van Helsing, writhing on the floor with

            his head almost torn asunder from his neck. Blood spurted out

            along the walls. The spasms ceased. The body lay still as a

            trickle of gore oozed out of the remains of his jugular vein.


            "It was terrible," she sobbed. "I heard a commotion and came

            to see what was happening when I found the doctor and some

            beast, almost like a man, struggling with one another. When I

            screamed, the beast swung his hand and ripped"


            "It'll be alright. Have two orderlies bring a litter and take

            him to my lab. Then have them clean up this mess. Go. Work

            will keep your mind off of this calamity."




                                         #


            Tables and chairs were flying across the room, smashing

            against walls and ancient armor. Dracula was incensed! 


            "The forest is finally rid of that damnable werewolf and now

            I have to deal with the rabble," he yelled out into the

            vacant hall. "A nice, peaceful meal to sustain me is all I

            require, keeping victims alive just enough to feed on for

            weeks on end. Then that wolf encroaches on my territory, 

            raising suspicion amongst the locals. Now, that has been

            rectified, only for me to deal with a newborn vamp, thanks to

            the wolf and that inept servant who left her body in the

            forest!"


            He looked out the window of his keep, leaning against the

            sill. He felt something pricking at his ribs. He looked down

            and found a large syringe protruding from his chest, just

            above the heart, but not deep enough. He grasped the tube and

            tugged it free. A festering wound sizzled, then began to

            rapidly heal.


            "Sleep well you maggots, for tomorrow evening shall be your

            last," he hissed. 




                                         #


            Dr. Frankenstein looked at the remains of his colleague.

            Although he would normally believe the nurse's accusations of

            a beast about as much as he would believe any of his

            patients, he had to reconsider once he took a look at the

            tattered flesh and the effects of the terrible slash that

            left the cranium hanging onto the spinal cord by a hair or

            two.  


            "Amazing! No matter. Your brain is undamaged. I shall

            preserve it for use in my creation. It was only a matter of

            time, but as luck would have it, something else got to you

            before I did."


            He pulled the head loose from the body then placed it in a

            tub to wash it off before applying the saw. He knew a storm

            was coming and intended on having his creation finished and

            ready in time. Tomorrow, he would be a god.




                                         #


            The following day, as the sun was setting, Lawrence began

            having pains. His skin felt as if it wanted to peel off and

            his muscles were burning and wanted to explode. He could

            smell the rain in the air and could sense the fury of the

            oncoming storm. Despite the rolling, black thunderheads, his

            body instinctively knew the moon was rising in the night sky.

            He struggled against the leather straps that held him fast.

            His anger rose. The straining rawhide cut into his wrists as

            he let out a deafening yell that could've wakened the dead if

            it hadn't been for the loud clap of thunder that came rolling

            over the mountain.  




                                         #


            Dr. Frankenstein was taking one last look at the stitching he

            had done to finish implanting the brain into the grotesque

            being that lay on the table. Strange tubes and wire leads

            connected to even stranger equipment were injected into

            various areas of the body. The doctor ran over to a lever and

            released the catch. A pulley system hauled the unholy mass to

            an opening way above, at the top of the tower. 


            Lightning crackled and thunder crashed as large drops pelted

            the dead body. Frankenstein rushed to another machine and

            began operating its controls, trying his damndest to control

            the weather atop his lab. The electrical popping and sizzling

            was both deafening and blinding, all the while dazzling and

            breathtaking.  


            Secretly, from a remote corner of the lab, Dracula watched in

            amazement. Could this human actually create life? Imagine

            what an army of such creatures could do? I could rule the

            world without fear of retribution during the daylight hours.

            The doctor would have to become his slave, or die. Either

            way, if his experiment is successful, the creature will be

            mine to control. 


            What seemed like an eternity to the mad doctor was only a

            moment in nature. He shut down the generators and lowered the

            table. The acrid smell of burning hair and flesh filled the

            air. Layers of smoke rolled over the body and from out of the

            creature's nose and mouth. Frankenstein hovered over the

            body, looking for a sign of life. He could feel the static of

            electrical charges coursing over the creature and dared not

            touch him yet for fear of shock.


            "Van Helsing? Can you hear me?"


            Dracula strained his supernatural hearing to see if there was

            a response. He was almost as excited as the doctor in finding

            out the results.


            Frankenstein, using a gloved hand, tapped on the creature's

            chest. A low moan emitted from the mouth. Frankenstein looked

            and saw that the eyes were slowly beginning to open.


            Everything was a bit blurry at first. What was once Van

            Helsing was now Frankenstein's monster. He was disoriented.

            Where was he and why was Frankenstein standing over him like

            a giddy child? He went to raise his hand to his head but

            found himself immobilized.


            "One moment while I release your restraints," Frankenstein

            shouted over the din of the storm. "Do you know where you

            are? Can you understand me?"


            Van Helsing attempted to talk, but his throat was raw.

            Although he could feel his extremities, his entire body

            seemed odd. Though bewildered, he let Frankenstein assist him

            in sitting up. 


            "Wh-wha-what have you done to me?"


            A broad smile crossed Frankenstein's face and his eyes had a

            glint of brilliance. "I have given you life where there was

            death!" 


            "Life? Death?"


            "Why, yes. Your average body, as of yesterday, was no longer

            attached to your head. I have rescued that somewhat

            magnificent brain of yours and implanted it into a new shell.

            You are my creation! My Adam!"


            "Very well done, doctor, but I must object. This creature

            will be mine."


            Frankenstein jumped, surprised by the stealth and appearance

            of the vampire. The surprise was short-lived, though, as he

            felt a large arm smash him across the operating table and

            over the other side.


            "You! You were the one attempting to assault my patient! You

            killed me!"


            It was Dracula's turn to be surprised. Not only was he unsure

            who this gigantic monster was, but it was launching itself

            from the table and attacking him. Like a newborn on unsteady

            legs, the monster staggered, missing his mark, but still

            close enough to land against Dracula. The two crashed to the

            ground, knocking over a tray full of cutting tools and

            bandages.


            Dracula mustered his strength and pressed the monster off of

            him, hurling him onto the landing a dozen paces away. The

            monster shook his head to clear his thoughts. He concentrated

            as he pushed himself up, off the floor, and braced for the

            oncoming charge of the vampire. Dracula's feet left the

            ground as he streaked through the air at the monster, not

            anticipating the speed or strength of his opponent. Though

            still a bit groggy, Van Helsing's mind was quick enough and

            powerful enough to react, catching the King of Darkness in

            mid-flight and flinging him through the air and through the

            wooden door leading out, all in one motion.


            No sooner had Dracula exited the room than he re-entered,

            half-tucking himself into a ball before slamming into the

            electrical machinery. A powerful beast, covered in thick,

            matted hair came stalking in, his fangs dripping with saliva.


            The werewolf gave a quick glance at the monster, then turned

            his gaze upon Dracula. He bolted! Dracula was prepared. He

            dodged the oncoming beast, flying across the room, causing

            the loup garou to ram the machine with enough force to upend

            it and send it crashing down into the middle of the room. The

            werewolf let out a howl as he jumped up on the table to

            confront the undead. Van Helsing was unsure who was on who's

            side, but for the time being, two-on-one made sense. He

            wrenched a piece of metal from some nearby wreckage and

            advanced on Dracula as well. 


            Sensing his disadvantage, Dracula began transforming. Despite

            his powers, transformation still took a moment of

            concentration and will. It wasn't instantaneous, but it was

            close - just not close enough. The hirsute figure assailed

            him with lethal ferocity, driving him into the wall. 


            Frankenstein, who had been observing from under the table,

            was attempting to take advantage of the moment. He quietly

            crawled out, trying to make his way to a dark recess away

            from the battle. He had seen the werewolf and vampire go down

            along the back wall and had last seen his creation lumbering

            that general direction. In his fear and haste, he did not

            take the precious moment to check with certainty.  


            "You are the cause behind this," roared the monster. "You

            shall stay and pay penance!" 


            Frankenstein tried to scamper out of the monster's reach, but

            the towering behemoth snagged him by the nape of his neck. He

            hurled the doctor across the room, aiming for the window. The

            doctor smashed against the wall near the combatants, knocking

            the wind out of him. He tried to jump up and run, but Dracula

            grabbed his ankle with one hand while tearing into Lawrence

            with the other. Desperate, Frankenstein grabbed a broken

            shaft of wood lying nearby, attempting to thrust it through

            the vampire's chest.


            Dracula released his grip on the werewolf and swatted

            Frankenstein with a backhand so quickly that he never saw it

            coming. The doctor sailed through the air, wedging between

            two transformers. Like a fly in a spider's web, he was

            trapped. The transformers began to shake and the wind and the

            rain became a torrent. Blue and white light flashed and

            flickered, jolting his body with raw energy. He screamed for

            mercy as his charred skin flaked off with each spasm and his

            eyes exploded out of his head.


            Fire burst from the body and sparks flew from the

            transformers. Parts of the werewolf's fur were catching fire,

            but he paid no heed as he sank his teeth into the vampire's

            arm, mauling it. Dracula was blinded by the flashes of light

            and pain. He could sense the presence of Frankenstein's

            monster, but there was little he could do as the creature

            drove the fallen shaft of wood through his chest. From the

            depths of hell rose an ear-piercing scream that shattered all

            of the test tubes and beakers within the room. 


            Lawrence and Van Helsing put their hands to their ears. The

            agony was maddening. They didn't realize that the shaking had

            become more violent, causing the entire lab to tremble. A

            large beam came crashing down, swinging like a pendulum into

            the transformers, reducing Frankenstein's corpse to ashes and

            cinders as the structure fell on top of the entangled

            horrors.  


            "The nightmare is over," Van Helsing said as he looked one

            last time at the mangled, jig-saw body that he had become.


            Lawrence let out a sigh of relief as his eyes rolled to the

            back of his head. He turned from the Wolf Man to his human

            self once again as the stone walls came crashing down and

            buried them forever.




                                 © 2004, Ethan Nahté