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Michael Belmont and the Tomb of Anubis

Bleeding Star Chronicles Collection 1

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Raymond and Elizabeth Erway, who never let the monsters get me.

Transylvania

1893

Jonathan Harker leapt from the cart and heaved the sealed crate down into the thick, white snow.

He fell to his knees, attacking the lid with his kukri knife.

Mina watched as Quincey Morris parried and slashed his way through the gypsy servants who strove to protect their master, and gasped to see blood gushing from his side as he fell upon the other end of the crate to assist Jonathan.

Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward covered the remaining gypsies, who reluctantly submitted when they saw the men’s raised Winchesters.

Quincy thrust his bowie knife into the crate and began to pry with anguished grunts, his blood coloring the snow as the two men struggled together.

Soon the nails drew with a chilling screech and the lid was cast aside.

The deathly pale face of the count was revealed, and his red eyes opened to peer up at the attackers with rancor and spite.

Mina knew that look well.

She watched the reflection in those eyes as the setting sun finally disappeared beyond the mountains far behind her.

The look of hatred transformed into that of triumph as the beast burst from his coffin like some ghoulish jack-in-the-box.

He reached out to seize the two men who’d disturbed him, grabbing each by the throat with inhuman strength.

The beast who now stood towering over them was more animal than man, though exactly what animal would be hard to say.

Coarse, gray fur covered his body, his ears were long and pointed, his nose turned up and snubbed, but it was his eyes that remained the most human.

Mina recognized the count in those eyes, despite his terrible, demonic face.

Jonathan slashed at the creature’s neck with his kukri, catching him with a strike that would have taken the head off any normal man, yet it was not enough.

Mina gasped as a firm hand took her shoulder and pulled her out of the way to safety.

It was Dr. Abraham Van Helsing.

He gazed into her eyes to make sure she was still the Mina they knew and trusted.

Quincy took aim at Dracula’s heart and buried his bowie to the hilt.

The beast dropped his victims and staggered back, shaking with rage.

He pulled the knife out and cast it into the snow, drops of black blood falling to mark its trail.

Jonathan took another swing at the monster’s head, but it caught his wrist and raised him into the air, throwing him headlong into the carriage.

Van Helsing drew a long, two-edged sword from his side and hurled it through the air to Quincy.

“Plunge it into his heart,” he ordered frantically.

The Texan caught the sword by the hilt and turned to see a look of fear on Dracula’s bat-like face as he thrust the blade into his heart.

He opened his mouth to scream, but the only sound Mina heard was a faint crackling wisp.

Any other time, the noise might have been comforting, it was not unlike the dwindling embers of a campfire, but now it made Mina’s blood run cold.

She looked into the count’s eyes for the final time, and felt moved to see a look of peace, one she never could have imagined might have rested there, and watched as almost in the drawing of a breath, the count crumbled into dust and passed from her sight.

The gypsies, upon seeing the remarkable demise of their master, turned and fled for their lives.

Likewise, the wolves, which had already withdrawn to a safe distance, followed their human comrades, leaving Mina and her companions alone.

Mina ran to the wounded Quincy Morris, who had collapsed on the ground.

The crimson stain that still flowed from his side contrasted sharply with his face, which was now nearly as white as the falling snow.

Jonathan got down and heaved his friend’s torso onto his lap, propping his head up.

Quincy looked first at Jonathan and then at Mina, examining their anguished looks and the tears on Mina’s cheeks.

“I’m too happy to have been of service, Miss.”

He struggled to sit up, and his pale lips stretched out into a broad smile.

“God be thanked,” he said, pointing up to Mina’s clear, beautiful face.

“The curse has lifted.

Look, look at her face.”

He slumped back down, though Jonathan strained to hold him.

“God be thanked; the curse has been lifted.”

He smiled warmly once again, squeezing Jonathan’s hand.

“It was all worth it,” he said.

And then he passed.

Dr. Seward smiled sadly at Mina.

“He died a gallant gentleman.”

Then he looked at Jonathan and Godalming.

“All of us could only hope for the same.”

It was silent for a few moments before a movement in the distance toward the castle caught Jonathan’s eye.

“Is that Dr. Van Helsing?

Running toward the castle?”

They called out to him, but he did not answer.

Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward started after him.

“Come,” said Jonathan, taking Mina’s hand.

“We must stay together.

This may be some new sort of madness.”

Mina struggled to keep up with Jonathan as they trailed the two men who were determined to catch up with Van Helsing.

They burst through the doors into the castle not knowing what to expect, and followed the doctor as he ran furiously to his unknown destination.

“Come, come we must hurry,” he ordered them.

“The portal must be closed before anything else escapes.”

He bounded up the stone stairwell with remarkable speed, and they trailed behind him through several passages before finally catching up where he waited in a small, cage-like chamber.

“Quickly.

Please.

In here!”

He ushered them all in and pulled a long metal lever, which protruded from the wall.

The clunking and grinding of chains commenced, and with a jerk they began to ascend.

Mina touched her stomach to quell the abrupt sinking sensation.

“Doctor, what is the point in all this?” Jonathan demanded.

“Where are you taking us, exactly?”

“You’ll see.

Very soon, you’ll see.

The boy gave me directions, now we just need to get the sword to the portal before anything else escapes.

Pray that we aren’t already too late.”

They continued to press him for answers, but none could make sense of his mutterings.

After a short while, the cage came to a halt.

Van Helsing pushed the barred door aside, bounding out to lead them down another corridor.

Mina felt as though she were going to collapse from exhaustion just as they reached the top of another staircase, but Van Helsing threw the doors open to a large chamber and shouted.

“Here.

Come quickly now.”

They rushed to the center of the chamber, where a large iron throne was fixed.

It was shaped in the form of a great roaring dragon with outspread wings.

Its front arms served as the armrests, and its clawed hands waited with outward facing palms ready for any potential attacker.

Its barbed tail wrapped around the entire throne several times and formed steps leading up to the seat.

A few dozen feet in front of the throne on either side were two stone obelisks.

These too were shaped like dragons, standing erect on their hind legs and looking toward the throne.

Mina observed that they were covered with some strange sort of writing.

The characters were nothing like she’d ever seen before, completely foreign to her.

Van Helsing ushered them all in around the throne.

“Hold this for a moment, won’t you?” He asked Lord Godalming, passing him the sword Quincy had used to slay Dracula.

The monster’s black blood still dripped from its blade.

Van Helsing then placed his hands on the throne and pulled himself up to take a seat.

“Thank you,” he told Godalming as the blade was passed back up.

He placed the weapon across his lap and sat there calmly, taking a few deep breaths and staring ahead, as if he were looking for something.

Mina followed his eyes to see for herself what it was.

There, between the two obelisks, she saw nothing but a great tapestry hanging on the wall beyond.

The image portrayed a gruesome scene.

Hundreds of men were impaled on spikes, and their blood flowing over the ground formed a river.

In front of them rode the handsome image of Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, on a white horse, sword raised in the air.

The very castle in which they stood could be seen in the background.

Yet…there was something unusual there.

The image seemed to be moving; it swayed and blurred as Mina watched.

Then she noticed that the stone wall on which the tapestry hung was doing the same thing.

There was some sort of subtle green light or mist; Mina couldn’t be sure which, passing through the pillars in front of them and causing the effect.

Dr. Seward shifted uncomfortably.

“Dr. Van Helsing, please, what are we doing here?”

“LOOK,” he responded, pointing to a window on their right, where a cloud of dust was blowing in and drifting toward the obelisks.

“Ha-ha, GOOD!” laughed Van Helsing.

“The evil spirits which inhabited Dracula’s mortal form are being drawn back in through the portal.”

The particles of dust floated lightly to the space between the pillars, and as they passed through lit up and sparkled like tiny green shooting stars.

Hundreds of tiny shooting stars, flying away from them into the nothingness beyond.

“It’s beautiful,” Mina said, so softly that no one heard her.

“This gateway is where Dracula drew most of his evil power,” Van Helsing told them.

“Without him here to posses it, it’s all going back.”

“What exactly is this portal?” Jonathan asked, “That is, where does it go?”

“It is an egress from the realm of the damned,” the doctor answered.

“And we must close it.

We must ensure that Dracula and his minions remain on the other side.”

He watched with excitement as the last few particles floated into the mist and zipped away.

“If I knew how to destroy this gateway, I would do it.

But alas, that knowledge has evaded me.”

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