Lyla's Hunt

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“It’s in the family name.”

“You have to follow in your great grandfather’s footsteps, all of us did.”

“Who else but our family to keep them in line?”

“You’re a disgrace if you think about not honouring the family name.”

Lyla Van Helsing had heard everything from her whole family. She hadn’t wanted this accursed name any more than she had wanted to live anywhere near the Old World houses her family owned. Abraham Van Helsing had been a legend. He alone had slayed the legendary Dracula. Lyla was just someone with the same last name as far as she was concerned.

It was a lot to live up to. Lyla hadn’t even gone to a “normal” school. She had specifically be given a special place in the “Van Helsing Institute for Monster Hunters” in order to prepare for her eventual place as the family hunter. Her brother Isaac had revelled in it. Lyla had tried to actively get dismissed from the school.

It never happened of course. A Van Helsing getting expelled from the Institute was unheard of. Actively poor academic or not, Lyla did end up becoming skilled in the family trade. Much to her chagrin, Lyla was about to embark on her first hunt.

It was traditional to have a target given to the newest Van Helsing a target Vampire. Lyla was getting a particular nuisance of a Vampire as her target. Outside of the small town of Valeyick, no one knew much about the Vampire other than the fact it was there.

Lyla tugged at the traditional leather corset that covered most of her torso for protection over the simple cloth shirt that covered the rest of her upper body. During her travels the outfit had become uncomfortable, but she would have to manage. Until she completed her first hunt, Lyla was stuck in traditional clothes.

The village seemed empty as Lyla arrived. Cold wind blew through the streets. Lyla couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as she worked through the wet cobblestone streets. It was like reading one of her ancestor’s stories. The cliched small town that was abandoned to the vampires, bad weather, eerie silence. Part of her almost wondered if it was all a set up.

“You must be after me, aren’t you?”

Lyla almost jumped out of her skin at the voice. A young man stepped out of the shadows. The pallor of his skin and blood-red eyes told Lyla that this was her vampire.

“So you’re the vampire?” Lyla said, trying to remain calm.

“Dracile is the name. That would make you the Van Helsing that’s after me then. Great Grandfather Dracula warned the family about you in his journals. One of your family already got to Ílsa. I won’t, what the phrase, ah ‘Come quietly’ if that’s what you’re after.”

Lyla sighed heavily at the theatrics of how Dracile was acting. Her eyes flashed an electric blue a she tapped into the old magic and instantly moved to strike. Her attack wasn’t even registered by the vampire as she drove the stake deep into his heart in the same instant she arrived within striking distance. Dracile shuddered at the impact, the wood stake killing him, letting him live long enough to hear Lyla’s words.

“I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t want to be here, but you need to be dead. Tell Satan the Van Helsings send their regards.”

Lyla let the dead vampire drop to the ground. She let out what felt like the millionth sigh that day. So much for not wanting to be a Van Helsing.