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Damnit! It's happening again. I'm losing another person I care about.
No one is sure when exactly the accident occurred, but sometime during the night, on one of the days I was out on assignment,
the invention Carl had been working on backfired. One of the sharper points of the weapon managed to lodge itself in his stomach.
He had been thrown into the wall by the force of the explosion and knocked unconscious. He'd laid there bleeding unchecked
for several hours, until one of the many inhabitants of the catacombs under the Basilica noticed the light still on and decided
to look in on their absent-minded resident genius. That was at seven in the morning. He'd lost a substantial amount of blood
and no one is sure if he's going to survive.
If he follows through with our last conversation, he won't. It wasn't what you'd call an argument. It was, now that I think
about it, him coming to tell me not to blame myself. But Carl, being Carl, didn't know how and took his own guilt as a way
to do it. He was saying: "Don't blame yourself Van Helsing, if needs be, blame me, but don't blame yourself.". I just didn't
see it that way at the time. He explained to me what had happened on the bridge, that he had purposely let Anna go to her
death because he was too scared to. It had made perfect since at the time. It wasn't my fault, Carl was the one to kill Anna,
not me. He was the one who deserved my blame and anger.
So I had told him to go away, I never wanted to see him again. I didn't want his friendship anymore, he had betrayed me. It
should've been him that I killed, not her. He was a coward who couldn't face a true battle. I thought that if he were to die
I wouldn't care, I'd cheer, at least then he would've paid for his crime. That I wouldn't care if he was eternally damned
for her death. At least when I died, if I was truly doing God's work, I'd be reunited with Anna in heaven. The stricken look
on his face as I told him to go, was almost unbearable, but he was the one who stole my Anna from me. I wished him death and
eternal damnation in my dreams. That was a month ago. We hadn't seen much of each other since. It was strictly business when
we had to interact, but I found myself watching the friar when we were talking weapons, and when I was discussing things with
Cardinal Jinette.
He was more withdrawn, he rarely did more than mutter to anybody else, except when he was working on an invention that needed
power. The other workers began talking among themselves of his sudden reclusive-ness, and some heralded it as a respite from
the chaos he invariably brought with him. For awhile I agreed, I had managed to talk myself into hating him. I was glad he
was suffering for what he had done to Anna, and to me. He deserved everything he got. I didn't care that he had stopped coming
to meals, or that he was spending less and less time at his workstation while others were there, and more time in a private
space or his room. I didn't care what happened to him, he could die if he wanted.
Now he's lying on the cot before me, pale and shivering on deaths door. Bloody bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen and
a purplish bruise decorating his cheek from where he hit the wall. He was flushed with sweat as he fought a fever that had
come on him, obviously whatever chemical had been on the metal had worked it's way into his system. Some of the others are
working on figuring out what chemical that was, and how to counteract it. I don't think they'll make it. I think it's already
too late. Carl's going to die, and that scares me.
I thought I wouldn't feel anything for him when he passed. I was so sure that his death wouldn't bring me anything but the
close of a chapter of my life. Now that I'm actually faced with the possibility of it, all the hatred I had been feeling for
him for the past month dissipated. I was out of town when the accident occurred but the moment Cardinal Jinette informed me
of it, I was floored. The moment he told me I was free for the rest of the week I found my way to his room. When I entered
and saw the usually vibrant and talkative man lying prone, pale and silent on his dingy little coat, I almost broke down in
tears. For a second I feared he was already dead. Then he groaned and I knew he was barely clinging on.
I've remained by his side for three days now. He has been getting weaker and weaker, but hasn't yet died. It's as if he's
waiting for me to figure something out. It's as if he and that inner voice are in league to get me to have some form of epiphany.
The voice has been pestering me since the night of the argument, claiming I was making a big mistake. I had ignored it, pushing
it off as a bad attempt at a conscience. I wasn't supposed to feel sorry for Carl, I wasn't supposed to feel bad about what
I had done to him, so I had forced the voice into the back of my mind. It came back strong the moment I was told of the accident.
I warned you Van Helsing. It had mocked me, almost familiarly. I warned you of what was going to happen. I told you you'd
lose him, and now you have. I told you you'd realize you care about him, but it's come too late.
No, I can't lose him, not now. I have to tell him, tell him what I've learned in these three days. It's taken the near death
of my closest friend for me to realize it. I've been a fool, I've been trying to find the person to blame for her death for
four months now. First myself, then Carl. I didn't think anyone knew how I felt, no one could possibly know. I didn't see
that Carl was taking this just as badly. He's been blaming himself for her death almost as much as I was blaming myself. When
he came to me that night, he was hoping to help me with my guilt, but also reaching out for help for himself. He wanted help
and I pushed him away. He wanted someone to lessen then pain, like I did, and I shoved him away. Why? Because I couldn't stop
mourning my lost love.
I was too wrapped in my own vague emotions, I had thought that I had it so bad. I didn't even realize that Carl, too, might
have been mourning. He was always so talkative, I guess I thought he'd tell me how he felt outright. I didn't realize I'd
been pushing him away. That maybe why I found it so easy to switch the blame and anger to him, even when he didn't deserve
it. I realize now how foolish I was, but I couldn't help it. Anna was dear to me, she was perhaps the first person I ever
truly loved. That might not be true, I may have had a love before I lost my memory, but it didn't feel like I'd ever felt
the way I felt when I kissed Anna. I was willing to abandon my life's work to be with her, to disappear after the battle with
Dracula, and live a peaceful life full of children to be with her. Then that dream was cut short by my own hands.
Yet it wasn't my fault. I realize that now. It wasn't Carl's either, though it may be too late for me to tell him that. It
was no one's fault, she died. It was her choice. She sacrificed herself to save me. I didn't see that until I saw Carl lying
there, pale as death, on his cot, in that smoke filled room. It brought me back to Anna's funeral. It had been my decision
to burn her body by the sea. It seemed proper, she had always wanted to see the sea, and now never would. We burned her on
a funeral pyre, because burying her so near the ocean, she would've easily been uncovered. Besides, when Carl was cleaning
her up for the funeral, he found several teeth marks along her side, I had gotten her with my fangs. That meant that, even
if she died, her body may still come back as a werewolf. The only way we could prevent that was by burning her body. So we
did, and as I watched I saw her face in the smoke. I didn't realize why she appeared to us that day. I didn't know she was
giving me the chance to say goodbye.
It drives home why some call me murderer. Yet I know better than anyone that I am. It's me who sees those monsters I slay
when they revert back to those they once were. It's me left out there when the crowd gathers around. It's me who is blamed
for the death of one who had died long before. I've often found myself staring down at a man who I've just killed wondering
what his name was, whether he was truly evil at heart. What might have happened to him that he became a servant of evil so
far from home. I'm the one who bares the sins of their deaths.
Now I have three more sins to bare. The last remaining children of the Valerious line, Anna and Velken, and now my faithful
friar friend. He had been throwing himself more and more into his work, sleeping less, and eating less, and it was all because
of me. I told him to go away, and in a way he was. He was slipping away into his own little world. Many of the others began
complaining of Carl talking to himself all the time and becoming more paranoid. He was slipping beyond the shores of sanity,
beyond the pain and torment I had caused him. He was slipping away from me mentally. And now his body is doing the same. I
cling to his pale hand, praying like I've never prayed before that he'll wake up.
Carl, you need to wake up. I've got to tell you what I've learned. It's not your fault! I don't blame you any more Carl, I
was wrong to do so in the first place. Please Carl, you can't die on me now. If you die I'll be a true murderer. I couldn't
bare it if you died. Carl, you must get through this, you must survive. Who else is going to help me on my missions? You know
the Cardinal was thinking of letting you go with me on missions more often don't you? He realizes what a great team we made
in Transylvania. Please Carl, listen to me, you have to survive. If you die before I can apologize, I'll never forgive myself.
If you die now, I'll live with your death on my head for the rest of my life. Please Carl, wake up.
I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I love you Carl. Not in the way I loved Anna, but the way Anna loved her brother.
I'd die for you my friend. I need to see your smiling face again, I need to hear you prattle on about some new invention of
yours. I need you to come back to me. I forgive you Carl. I forgive you. You weren't supposed to die that day, my friend.
You aren't a coward either. You're a great hero, you just don't realize it.
You were willing to kill me if I wasn't cured in time. You didn't want to do it but you knew you had to. That takes courage.
You were willing to stand up to a fully transformed werewolf in bloodlust to make sure I didn't kill anyone. If that's not
courage I don't know what is. The fact you even came through the mirror shows your courage. You aren't a coward, nor are you
to blame for anything that happened in the castle. Please Carl, you've got to pull through this. Don't die on me now, you're
my last link to humanity, you're my friend. You're what keeps me sane, Carl. If you die, I might just lose it completely.
Please Carl, don't die. Please.
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