I could feel my half-vampire, half-werewolf, half-ghost blood roaring through my veins as my hell bike tore down this small town’s main highway. I breathed deeply and tried to let my blood at ease, I first blocked out the sounds of the innocent pedestrians hurtling themselves out of my bike’s path from my mind and settled my thoughts on the reason of my mission. My archnemesis, The Morarity to my Sherlock Holmes, The Iron man to my Captain America, The Voldemort to my Harry Potter, The Mcdonalds to my Burger King, Draculars. The billionaire Eurotrash playboy that killed my pet hamster and also my family and my adopted family had told me to come to this small town’s gazebo so that we could finally settle the score. I swore vengeance upon the monster, if my name wasn’t Von von Helsing.
My hell bike skidded to a halt as a tore into the center of town, I could see Draculars waiting at the center of the Gazebo but it took me a while to get to him cause I kept trying to find a parking space but I guess this place was super crowded on Sundays so there wasn’t a single parking space anywhere. I settled on parking my super rad bike in front of a Von Hansen’s butchery, the scent of fresh blood filling the area that made my stomach a little squeamish. I straightened the black leather trench coat my mom said made me look super cool over my square shoulders, I tightened the black scarf across my neck to hide the gills from my half-mermaid blood and donned my trademark black sunglasses to hide my half-cat eyes and sauntered across the street.
“Hey Jackass! Watch where you’re going!” The man who almost ran me over shouted at me.
“Oh- uh s-s-sorry.” I stammered back courageously.
As I stepped onto the twisting brickyard leading up to the gazebo, I saw all kinds of cool stuff, like green lamps, and like, uh some yellow park benches. It was super memorable I’ll tell you what, a totally gnarly place to have an epic confrontation with your archnemesis. I saw several families immediately look up and start to back away from me, probably because of the innate grim aura I gave off, that or from the gallons of sweat pooling off me: Damn you Draculars! Why couldn't we have our epic struggle someplace nice and cold like the Artic or something.
I approached the Octagonal white gazebo and sitting there in the center like a King waiting to pass judgement on a lowly peasant was him. Draculars, it seemed like he was regretting this choice of venue like I was, what on account of the oceans of sweat oozing from his vampiric skin into his exorbitantly expensive Italian suit.
“So we meet for the last time once again, Hellsing.”
“A displeasure to see you to, Draculars.” My voice came out gravelly.
He stood up and looked down at me like a child looking down at his Brussel sprouts.
“I must ask, Von Hellsing, why is it that you hate me so much?”
“Why? You bastard you know why!” I roared at him. “You killed my father!”
He sneered “That’s where your wrong boy! The truth is, I am your Father!”
Dread pounded into my heart like I had been shot by a bullet made from dread from a gun made of dread. “What, No, That’s not possible!”
Draculars had a look of shadowy faux compassion on his face, like he was enjoying twisting the knife further every word. “Why do you think I brought you here? Don’t you remember the prophecy?”
This time I could feel a knife made out of dread plunging into my stomach, the words of the prophecy, once so cryptic had become crystal focused.
“That’s right. ‘One day you will meet your father when he calls you to this small town’s gazebo!’”
“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!” The futility of Von Hellsing’s screams were cut short by a sudden blackness as my Mother shut off the TV.
“I think that’s enough cartoons for you today young man, you should get busy on your homework.
And so, like Von Hellsing’s tormented path, I walked back to my room. Alone.
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