Equestria in the winter had a kind of empty beauty to it. For miles around, all that Helsing could see below was white. The blanket of snow covered the hills and the flatlands alike. It smothered the forests, leaving only bare wood in its wake. Only the roads were clear of snow, looking like thin black pencil lines cutting across a canvas from this high up.

Snow crunched under Helsing's hooves as he trudged up the mountain path, and his breath misted in front of his face in the winter air. The chill winds made his scarf flutter in the breeze, and he carried nothing else on him to protect from the cold save a pair of saddlebags, but still he smiled and continued on. And by his side, a constant companion clung to him.

"Is it much further now, my good sir?" she asked.

Like Helsing himself, her coat was as white as the snow they walked through, but her smile was considerably warmer. She wore a scarf of her own that was entwined with his, blue, like the colour of her mane. Helsing looked sideways at her.

"Canterlot is still some ways, I fear," he said, not unkindly. "But I shan't worry; we'll both make it there in time for Hearth's Warming."

"I very much shan't, being in such good company. To think, I'd have had to walk all this way by myself if you hadn't arrived."

"'Tis only the decent thing to do. Couldn't leave a young mare such as yourself to brave the cold alone, could I?"

"You are most generous." The mare bowed her head, a slight blush working into her cheeks. "I'm terribly sorry. I realise now that we've been walking all this way, and I've not even asked your name! Mine is Morning Dew."

"Van Helsing."

Morning Dew gave him a curious look.

"I've never heard a name like that before. What's it mean?"

"Van means 'of' or 'from' in some of the old chimeric tongues, which my father once had cause to learn on his travels. So I suppose my name means singing that comes from Hell."

Morning Dew's smile wavered slightly, but it held. "That is unusual. It doesn't seem like it suits you."

"Well, maybe not. But then again, looks can be deceiving." Helsing leaned in and whispered into Morning Dew's ear. "You'd know a thing or two about that, wouldn't you?"

Suddenly, Helsing slammed sideways into his companion and threw her against the mountainside, her body striking the rock with a sickening crunch. Morning Dew cried out, and collapsed into the snow, maintaining her form for only a moment, before it flickered away in a flash of fiery green magic.

A black, insectoid pony now lay where Morning Dew had been, with a curved horn, translucent wings, and empty blue eyes. The changeling groaned, moving a hoof to her side where a pony's ribs would be. Green fluid dripped from a crack in her chitinous shell, staining the snow. She rolled onto her back, and Helsing stepped over her, staring down dispassionately.

"Hello, changeling. Didn't get enough of your fill when you sacked Timbucktu, did you?"

Morning Drew tried to get up and scramble away, keeping one forehoof on her injury and using the other to force herself to stand.

"I swear to you, I'm not part of the swarm! I wasn't even at Timbucktu! I'm just trying to get away from all that!"

"Likely story," said Helsing, opening his saddlebags. "However, it doesn't matter to me either way. You were sloppy, and you were spotted changing back in Briskmeyer. They told the appropriate authorities that you were coming this way, and here I am."

Helsing removed a small bell and rang it gently. On the quiet stillness of the mountain, its chime echoed clearly.

"Oh please no..." Morning Dew whispered. "What are you? Royal Guard? Constabulary? What do you want with me?"

Groaning wood sounded from behind them, further down the winding mountain path, distant at first, but growing louder. A grey earth stallion pulling a carriage emerged from behind the cliff. Helsing turned to Morning Dew, who watched his approach with a bewildered expression.

"Hunters Guild. And you're worth a pretty penny to me."

Helsing hadn't known that changelings could go pale, but Morning Dew certainly did. She opened her gossamer wings and tried to buzz away, but before she could get off the ground, Helsing swung a hoof and crushed a wing against the cliff. Morning Dew cried out again, and Helsing let her go just as the carriage came to a stop behind them.

The grey stallion uncoupled himself from the carriage and opened a door on its side. From behind a bushy brown moustache, he looked down at Morning Dew with the same dispassionate look that Helsing had given her, his wrinkled old face showing not the slightest hint of emotion. He almost looked bored as Helsing floated the changeling into the carriage.

"Good hunting, sir?" the stallion asked, his voice pompous and formal.

"By this land's standards at least, Service," said Helsing, climbing into the carriage himself. "One vampire and a pair of hengstwolves, plus this one. It's terrible. The Heartland is so peaceful. I scarcely even know where to find the monsters out here."

Service held the door open while Helsing sat back on a cushioned seat, his changeling captive sprawled on the floor in front of him.

"Perhaps why your uncle had to change careers, sir."

"Among other reasons. But Heartland hunters must make their money somehow." Helsing flicked a hoof in Service's direction. "Anyway, enough talk. Let us be off to Canterlot before I freeze here."

Service closed the door. There was a moment of quiet from outside while he hitched himself back in, and then the carriage began moving again, rumbling across the unpaved road beneath the snow. Helsing let himself smile, and opened a small compartment next to his seat. He withdrew a bottle of whiskey, along with a glass, and poured himself a drink.

Lying on the floor, Morning Dew made a changeling's best approximation of a scowl.

"If you were always going to do this, why lead me on all that way?" she said with a huff.

"Sport." Helsing smiled at her. "I find it fun."

Morning Dew sighed and sat up. "So you're a hunter? You can't be more than sixteen."

"I'm seventeen," said Helsing. "And my age is of no concern. If hunters believed that age trumps skill and discipline, then we may as well all give up and go home. Look at where you are, and tell me that all your age and wisdom helped you against me."

He gestured to the carriage interior and let out a hearty laugh, leaning back in his seat.

"So unless you feel like changing back to your previous form and giving me a show, I'd settle in for the journey."

Morning Dew scoffed. "Unbelievable..."

"I'll take that as a no." Helsing took a drink of his whiskey and grinned.

The carriage pulled to a stop outside of Canterlot proper, where a great iron portcullis blocked the only entrance into the city. A stone wall loomed overhead, and by the side of the road, a small building with an open window jutted out from the wall. A Royal Guardspony in gleaming golden armour stood in the window, unshaken by the cold. When Service stopped next to him, the guard dutifully unrolled a piece of parchment and picked up a quill with his hoof.

"Name and reason for your visit?" he asked.

"Loyal Service of Trottingham, transporting my master to a family gathering," Service answered, eyes centered on the portcullis ahead of him rather than the guard.

The guard scratched away at the parchment with his quill. "Names of your master, and any other passengers?"

"My master is Van Helsing of House Songbird. We have one other passenger, a captive whose true name is not known to us."

The guard stopped writing and looked up at Service, raising an eyebrow.

"...Which leads rather conveniently into my final question.... Have you anything to declare?"

Service slowly turned his head towards the guard. Wordlessly, he unhitched from the carriage and walked over to the door, knocking on it twice. The door opened, and Helsing poked his head out.

"Yes?"

Service tilted his head towards the guardspony, who exited the station and approached the carriage.

"Ah," said Helsing.

He disappeared from view for a second, retreating back inside. When he returned, he was holding a bound and gagged changeling by her neck with his magic. Helsing threw the changeling outside and onto the ground, and the guard recoiled as she landed at his hooves, wriggling in the snow. He stared at the changeling, open-mouthed, then looked up to Helsing.

"I believe the bounty on this one was three hundred?" said Helsing.

"Um..." The guard shook his head and regained his composure. "I'm afraid that I wouldn't know anything about that, sir. I'm just the gate guard. If this is a monster you want to collect for, you should head for Bright Cathedral in the middle of town..."

"No," Helsing said firmly. "I am indeed a hunter, but changelings are, inexplicably, considered people, not monsters. That means I'm looking to collect from local law enforcement, which would be the Royal Guard, right?"

"Uh, well... in a manner of speaking, that is our functional role outside the palace, but Canterlot has a constabulary just like any other large city. They're the only ones besides the Church who would be paying any bounties."

Helsing rolled his eyes and climbed out of the carriage, grabbing the changeling and physically throwing her back inside.

"So where might I find them?"

"They have a few stations around the city. The closest one is on Platinum Street."

Helsing looked over to Service. "Think you can find it?"

Service simply nodded.

"Very well," said Helsing.

He turned towards the guard and bowed briefly, bringing up one foreleg across his chest. The half-bow got another raised eyebrow out of the guard, before Helsing climbed back into the carriage and closed the door behind him. Clearing his throat, the guard returned to his station and shouted something through a hole in the wall.

The portcullis lifted. Attaching himself to the carriage again, Service proceeded into Canterlot.

On the way to the police station on Platinum Street, Helsing took the time to get dressed, getting rid of the scarf he had shared with Morning Dew earlier, and replacing it with an outfit he removed from another small compartment in the carriage. When they stopped, Helsing stepped outside clad in his hunter garb – a long crimson overcoat and cravat which hid his cutie mark, but left exposed the small spiral mark on the back of his neck. Between the many pockets and sheaths inside it, the coat had ample space for him to conceal weapons, although he did not bother arming himself for a simple walk into a police station.

Morning Dew resisted Helsing all the way, struggling impotently as he floated her in ahead of him. The two entered a very spartan-looking room, almost completely featureless aside from a front desk, a notice board full of wanted posters, and a few doors. Seeing as nopony was around, Helsing casually dumped Morning Dew on the floor and strolled over to the desk, where a small bell waited for him. He rang it repeatedly until a young, bespectacled mare arrived to answer him.

"Good afternoon! How may I help?" she said with a smile, which disappeared when she noticed Morning Dew on the floor.

"Bounty collection," said Helsing, smiling back. "This is the changeling that was seen back in Briskmeyer. Reward of three hundred bits, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh my..." The mare leaned over her desk to stare at the changeling. "I... will see to this immediately, sir."

"Good. Thank you."

The mare retreated through a door behind the desk. After several minutes of waiting, a pony in a dark uniform with a silver badge emerged from that same door to collect Morning Dew and haul her away, her muffled protests fading as she disappeared from view. Helsing didn't remark, and merely began rhythmically tapping a hoof on the desk.

While he waited, Helsing's eyes wandered over the station's front room. He found his attention drawn to the wanted posters, the only items of note there. Most of them were for ponies, featuring sketches of their faces and cutie marks, descriptions of their colours, and listing their crimes and the sum for their live capture. No mention of a reward for killing them, though; criminals could act like animals all they wanted, but they were still people according to the law. It seemed so bizarre. Nopony ever expected a hunter to take vampires alive, and it was easier for all involved that way.

What caught Helsing's eye the most, however, was one particular poster which didn't describe its subject at all. There were no sketches of either face or cutie mark, no colour descriptions, and not even a name. The poster simply read "MYSTERY KILLER," and listed that they were wanted for six counts of murder. Helsing couldn't help but stare a while at that one.

The law seems surprisingly inept in the capital, he thought.

His pondering was interrupted as the mare returned, this time carrying a bulging straw sack. The coins inside jingled as she dumped it on the desk in front of Helsing.

"Three hundred, as listed. Feel free to count it."

"No need," said Helsing, picking it up and stuffing it into a side pocket. "I trust that it's all there. Thank you."

"Thank you, sir, for your service to Equestria! And a happy Hearth's Warming!"

"Happy Hearth's Warming," Helsing replied, walking out.

As he left the station, he noticed that the sky had been obscured by clouds sometime in the past several minutes. Up above, a number of pegasi were busily preparing for a heavy bout of snow. The sight made Helsing roll his eyes as he returned to the carriage.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked Service.

"Not at all. I just hate snow in the cities."

"It is traditional to decorate for Hearth's Warming, sir."

"I know. I just think that making it snow indiscriminately all over the place and then having to spend hours clearing it from the roads again is moronic."

"Of course, sir," Service drawled.

Helsing was quiet, looking at Service with a slight frown.

"...Come then," he eventually said. "Let us be off to my uncle's house."

The road where Helsing's uncle lived was a lot more austere than he had been expecting. He knew coming here that the city wasn't made entirely of upper class types, and that there had to be some space where normal ponies lived, but it was still odd to see regular wooden houses in the midst of all the marble and finery. Sometimes, all of Canterlot felt like it was just one big extension of Celestia's palace.

Of course, even here there were examples of luxury and opulence. Canterlot had no real slums. It only had houses that were less fancy than others. Even the most humble of Canterlot dwellings looked regal by the standards of Helsing's hometown. The homes of Starshine Lane were no exception, all detached buildings with fiercely maintained hedges, large windows, and multiple chimneys. Garden gnomes and alicorn statues and frozen fountains were among the many setpieces that decorated the snow-covered lawns.

Helsing watched the length of the road pass him by from the window of his carriage, until finally they came to a stop outside number sixty-seven, one of the larger homes on the street. Loyal Service opened the door for him, and Helsing stepped out and proceeded to the house, where a large iron knocker invited him to announce himself.

The door was answered by a young earth pony colt, with a chocolate brown coat and a creamy white mane and tail. The colt looked at Helsing oddly, ignoring Loyal Service as he came up to join his master.

"Cousin Helsing?" the colt murmured.

A slight smile came to Helsing's face.

"Soft Spoken. I haven't seen you since you were six."

The smile grew as he crossed the threshold and ruffled his cousin's mane, mussing it up and drawing weak protests and laughter from the colt. Loyal Service regarded the scene quietly, and moved on through down the hall without comment.

Helsing took in the sight of the front hall himself. The walls, floor, and staircase were all mahogany. The shiny varnish reflected the glow from a grand stone fireplace halfway down the hall, which crackled away behind an iron grate as ashes built around its base. A dozen torches lined the wall, unlit for now, and between them, the occasional fine landscape painting or mounted beast head added to the decour. It all very much reminded Helsing of home. Of course, Songbird Manor had many more trophies than this hall did; Uncle True hadn't been a hunter for many years now.

"Mother!" Soft Spoken called out in a voice that was barely louder his normal one. "Cousin Helsing is here!"

Two mares emerged from a room at the far end of the hall. The first, a white pegasus with a yellow, frayed mane tied back in a bun, peered at him over a pair of half-moon spectacles. At first she was stoic, but then her expression shifted into a subtle smile. The second was a portly earth mare wearing an apron, with a long, straight mane that was the colour of fresh-fallen snow, and a coat of brown several shades lighter than her son's. She trotted down the hall towards them, sporting a cheery grin, and the other mare followed after her.

"You're here!" she said, sweetly. "Little Helsing! Haven't you grown?"

"Hello, Auntie Cotton. Good to see you again." Helsing then turned to the other mare. "Mother."

Helsing's mother nodded genially.

"So polite, as well." Cotton beamed at him. "Come and sit down! The three of us were just about to have some tea."

They were directed to the sitting room halfway down the hall, a cosy room with red-painted walls and not a severed head in sight. Comfy chairs and sofas lined with feathered cushions formed a semicircle around a small table and another roaring hearth. Helsing took a seat opposite his mother, and Soft Spoken moved over to the fire to pile on more logs while Cotton left the room again.

"You're doing well, I trust?" Helsing's mother asked, adjusting her spectacles.

Soft Spoken finished stoking the fire, and climbed up onto one of the nearby chairs. He didn't say anything. He merely watched and listened.

"As well as can be," Helsing answered. "The Heartland is... quiet. I've participated in the night of the hunt here a few times, but there are too many other hunters and not enough monsters. Business is slow compared to the Isles."

"Hmm... The Guard keeps the peace well in the Heartland."

Helsing thought back to all the wanted posters he saw in the station, and mentally scoffed at the idea. The Royal Guard, the EUP Guard, and the constabulary alike couldn't even deal with common killers. He doubted that they were responsible for the Heartland's dearth of vampires and hengstwolves. It was still hunters that were keeping this land in check.

"What of Service?" she continued. "I hope you have not overworked him. His age is advancing."

"I ask nothing of Service that he is not capable of," Helsing replied. "He performs his duties with competence, if not enthusiasm. I dare say he's been a valuable asset to my work."

A slight frown appeared on the older mare's face, but it disappeared when both Cotton and Loyal Service returned to the room. The latter carried a tray with him, holding a teapot, sugar, milk, several mugs, and a fresh newspaper, the Canterlot Herald. He set it down on the table in front of the fire, and began pouring out everypony's tea as Cotton sat down beside Soft Spoken. Helsing muttered his thanks as Service passed him his mug first, and snatched up the Herald.

MYSTERY KILLER STRIKES AGAIN: BODY FOUND DUMPED IN PARK.

Helsing opened the paper and started reading, while Loyal Service took a seat next to him. The mares seemed to have noticed the headline.

"Tsk..." said Cotton. "Tragedy, isn't it, Choir?"

Helsing's mother shook her head. "A demented mind is a sad thing."

"Aye, that it is," Helsing muttered.

His grim fascination compelled him to read on. This was just the latest in a long string of murders, according to the paper. The body in the park was the sixth they had found so far, identified as a local prostitute, yet the authorities were loath to reveal any real details about the investigation, so the facts were scarce. Nothing really stuck out.

"I don't understand what makes them do it," said Cotton. "What compels a pony to do such horrid things? How can they enjoy killing?"

Helsing eyed his aunt for a moment, and then looked back down at the newspaper.

"Aye..."

It was still morning when Helsing and Service had arrived in Canterlot, and it didn't take long for boredom to set in. Soft Spoken had little to say, and seemed content to sit around and listen to the ramblings of old mares, while Loyal Service wasn't great conversation even at the best of times. Helsing hoped, at least, that things would liven up once his siblings arrived, but Sacred and Angel were spending the day up at the palace with Uncle True Shot, and there was little to do around the house in the interim.

With precious few other options, Helsing eventually decided to head into town. The shops were still open, and he only had to kill a few hours, so it seemed like a good time to take care of gifts. The payment he received for the changeling would cover his expenses nicely. And so he left the house and made his way into the city, leaving Loyal Service behind to get some well-deserved rest.

Canterlot in the winter was a fascinating place. Although the snow was inconvenient and the air was unpleasantly cold, the city still looked beautiful to Helsing. Not only that, but the citizens themselves seemed brighter. The holiday had a kind of effect on ponies. The rich felt more charitable, the poor complained less, and the foals played in the street in that carefree way that foals do. Their frolicking wrung a sense of nostalgic longing out of Helsing, as he recalled a time just on the edge of his memories, back before his father died.

All along his journey through the high street, Helsing only had to look up at the sky to see the holidays represented in burning pink. The heart-shaped bonfire floated above the city, one of many manifestations of the Fire of Friendship throughout the nation. Every passing day, it burned a little brighter, growing in strength from the ponies around it as they came together in the spirit of peace and friendship, as well as their mutual fear of being frozen to death by eldritch creatures. This close to Hearth's Warming Eve, one could stand beneath it and catch falling embers. It was no coincidence that the bonfire hung so high in the sky. Any closer to the ground and all the winter snow would melt instantly.

Helsing reflected on Hearth's Warming as he walked, thinking of all its myriad traditions that were on display around him. The shops and street lamps were all adorned by holly and tinsel and colourful signage, and on the pavements, the foals had made snow effigies of ponies, which Helsing occasionally had to step around.

And then there were the carollers. Their music was pleasant, but Helsing still cringed slightly, remembering all the times his mother had taken him and his siblings carolling around Hoofgate. He had always been terrible at it, as had his brother. House Songbird boasted a long line of ponies with talents for music and singing, his mother and younger sister among them, but neither of the boys had inherited it. They were their father's sons through and through.

Helsing shook his head and cleared his thoughts of songs, focusing instead on finding a place to buy gifts. Guided by the vague notion that his mother was a mare and that mares like shiny things, he drifted towards a big store named Empire Jewellers. Its windows were full of gold and silver, arranged in glimmering display cases and cabinets. With a shrug, he trotted inside, over to the nearest case, and began examining the contents.

"Hmm..."

The glass cases all contained a variety of rings, bracelets, necklaces, chains, lockets, watches and various other jewellery, but nothing really stood out to Helsing in the first he looked at, so he moved to the next one over. Again, nothing caught his interest. The same with the third. He began to consider that, as a stallion who couldn't possibly care less about fashion, maybe he wasn't cut out for this.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Helsing looked up from the display case to see an old pegasus with a monocle standing on the other side, smiling genially at him.

"I'm late getting a gift for my mother," he answered. "I'm looking for something she'd like."

"Well, if you'd allow me to make a suggestion, sir..."

So began the vicious cycle that trapped the two in an eternal stalemate. The jeweller took him from case to case, droning on about all the possible choices, listing the situations each would be appropriate for, and doing his best to sell Helsing on their quality. With each suggestion, Helsing would give either a "maybe" or "pass," and they'd move onto the next case. Each time, they'd examine a new piece, and Helsing would hear some more trivia.

"...This is Zebrican sapphire in the centre of the pendant, cut by our own craftsponies. This one is heart-shaped, like the Hearth's Warming bonfire, but we have other varieties which may suit..."

This dragged on for what felt like hours, though Helsing wasn't sure how long it really was. For the most part, he would just nod along to show he was following, and continue giving his noncommittal responses. The jeweller had the patience of a saint, not even flinching as Helsing rejected his suggestions again, and again, and again, until they reached one particular case.

"Here we have white gold necklaces. Our most popular in this line are the sun symbols. They make good gifts for the particularly devout, and for the patriotic."

Helsing raised an eyebrow, and looked more closely at the symbols in the case.

"Are these ready-blessed?" he asked, leaning over it and gazing at them.

"I beg your pardon?" the jeweller responded.

"Have the sun symbols already been blessed by a Celestian priest through the traditional rites? Cleansing flame, maybe? Possibly a prayer of deference? Even submersion in holy water would be acceptable."

"Oh..." The jeweller seemed caught off guard by the question. "I... don't believe so. They're made, and then they're sent to us, really."

Helsing sighed and waved a hoof. "Never mind, then. Carry on."

"Right. Well..."

Shopping really did take forever. The adventure in Empire Jewellers alone took up at least an hour before Helsing eventually settled on a pair of earrings and left. Nice ones. Not really gigantic or obvious. Just a little pair made of diamonds. Subtle, classy, and affordable with what he had. However, it wasn't the only store he spent far longer than necessary in.

It was late now, and Helsing trotted through an empty street in the town centre. Just about every store he passed was already closed, or at least beginning to close. Other stray shoppers were a rare sight. It seemed that not everypony took as long as he did to choose their presents, though Helsing was still struck by how dead the whole place felt. His home village was livelier at this time of night. This was the capital of the nation in early evening during one of the busiest times of year.

At least it was well-lit and open. No real risk of running into trouble out here, not that Helsing was especially worried about anything he might come across. Walking alone in Trottingham was liable to get one savaged and eaten, even on the night of the hunt when there were hunters around to help. Compared to that, Canterlot had nothing to fear, serial killers or not.

Helsing ruminated on his day as he walked. It had been just as difficult to buy for his sister as it was for his mother, especially since she wasn't one for jewellery. The answer there ended up being clothes, but choosing the specific clothes had been difficult. After much deliberating, he had gone with a fluffy winter coat from a popular boutique. The red overcoat that he wore now, given to him by their father, had served him well so far through the winter, so he reasoned that his sister would appreciate a coat of her own. And if not, he could always give her the receipt.

Helsing's other relatives were all much easier to buy for. His uncle was fond of history books. His aunt liked chocolate. Soft Spoken had a thing for model ships. And for his brother, Sacred, he got some pocket-sized adult books that he hid inside a massive dictionary. Helsing made especially sure to get the dictionary bound in string afterwards, in case Sacred decided to open the book and his actual gift fell out in front of mother.

The things I do to be a good brother...

It was a lot to carry. All the day's shopping was held in one relatively small, straw-weaved sack, which was almost bursting at the seams. He floated it next to him, keeping a close eye on it, sure that it would explode everywhere if he didn't watch it constantly. In fact, he was watching it so closely that he almost didn't notice the approaching griffon.

She flew in from above and landed directly in front of Helsing, stopping him in his tracks. The griffon was of the brown-and-white variety, and was lightly armoured. Iron plates covered most of her chest and legs, and she had a helmet that protected everything but her face, strangely. By her side, Helsing noted a set of wing-blades.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" She gave him a twisted smile. "What are you doing out here this time of night, pony?"

That smile and those particular words set Helsing on edge immediately.

Griffon. Wing-blade user. Lightly-armoured for mobility. Standard rules of pegasus combat apply. Keep distance. Rely on projectile and magical attacks. Strike under the wing to ground or disable. Remove whole wing to disarm. Aim for gaps in the armour.

"Shopping," Helsing replied, curtly. "That isn't a crime now, is it?"

From behind Helsing, another voice answered. This one was male.

"I don't know, but it is mighty suspicious."

Two similarly armoured griffons came into view, a male and another female. The male stood to Helsing's left, while the third griffon, the other female, went to his right. Now surrounded, Helsing dropped his bag to the ground next to him, just slightly out of their reach.

"Suspicious how?"

Outnumbered. Three visible. Possibly more unaccounted for. Back exposed. Strong enough light spell could temporarily blind and give time for a possible getaway. Avoid alleyways and side routes where likely to be boxed in. Head towards castle and try to draw Royal Guard assistance.

"Didn't you hear?" said the male griffon, smiling. "There's a killer on the loose. Everypony else in the city are scared out of their wits, and don't want to go outdoors this time of night."

"Indeed," the first female agreed. "What's suspicious is that you don't seem to be afraid of walking the streets at night. Notice how empty the rest of the place is?"

Helsing noticed an insignia of a silver talon on her armour by the right shoulder joint. The other two had the same symbol. This wasn't a gang of bandits. It was a mercenary company. The first female griffon seemed to be the one in charge, so Helsing decided to address all his answers to her.

"I'm not afraid because there's nothing to be afraid of. There are far worse monsters in this world than other ponies. A serial killer is nothing. Why should I cower in my home just because the rest of the city is?"

The lead griffon smiled at him.

"Good answer," she said. "What's your name, kid?"

Helsing wrinkled his nose at the slight. He wasn't sure how old the griffon was exactly, but she was definitely not old enough to call him "kid" and be taken seriously.

"Van Helsing."

"Helsing," she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. "Odd name for a pony. Tell me, Helsing. Would you object if we did a quick test? Nothing serious. Just want to see how you react to something, and then we'll let you go."

"Depends what it is."

The male reached into a bag and produced a clove of garlic, which he showed to him.

"Garlic? What are you testing for? Trying to see if I'm allergic?"

"Are you?" asked the leader.

"No."

"Well then, do you mind if we just see?"

Helsing looked her up and down.

"...Who are you again?"

"Les Griffes D'argent Bénis," she replied. "We're not dangerous. Not to you at least. Let us test you real quick, and we don't ever have to speak again if you don't want to."

He sighed. "Fine. Whatever you want. Bunch of weirdos..."

The male griffon smiled again. He began waving the garlic around in front of Helsing's face and lightly running it over his horn. It was obnoxious, and the garlic smelled, but Helsing had no extreme reaction to it. The other female then brandished a small metal ornament of the sun, and pressed it against Helsing's neck. Again, nothing happened. With disappointed looks, both of them pulled back and put their things away.

"...And what the hell was that for?" Helsing asked.

"Nothing," the female responded.

"Right, well, if it's all the same to you freaks, I really need to get home."

"Of course," said the leader. "Don't let us keep you. Happy Hearth's Warming."

"Aye, happy Hearth's Warming."

The three of them spread their wings and took off, soon leaving Helsing alone in the streets again. Once he was sure they were no longer around, he picked up his bag and resumed his journey. But the shopping was now the last thing on his mind. He grinned to himself as he trotted in the direction of Starshine Lane.

Les Griffes D'argent Bénis. The Blessed Silver Claws.

Perhaps they thought he couldn't speak French Griffonian, or that he wouldn't recognise the methods of identifying a vampire. Details like that were far from common knowledge outside of academic and monster-hunting circles. Policy in the Heartland and other areas of low monster activity was usually to pretend that vampires were rare and no real threat anymore. Common folk didn't think that much about them in these parts, because whenever they did show up, they would be very quickly dealt with by the hunters.

That was probably what he had just encountered. Not a mercenary group, but a Heartland hunter clan. "Blessed Silver Claws" certainly sounded like a good name for a company of civilian hunters, especially griffons, even if "talons" would have been more accurate.

And they talked about that serial killer...

Now there was an interesting thought. What if Canterlot's mystery killer was a vampire? It would make sense for the authorities to cover up such a thing. They'd keep the public from panicking too much by downplaying it as a normal crime, the Royal Guard would put up a front of investigating it themselves, and meanwhile, groups like Apollo Division and Les Griffes D'argent Bénis would be doing the real work from the shadows.

Helsing didn't know the first thing about this serial killer. Not really. Anything in the news that he'd read could be inaccurate if there really was a cover-up going on, not that the authorities had made much information public in the first place. Though, there was one thing that Helsing really did know for sure.

He wanted in on this.

It was Helsing's uncle that answered the door when he eventually returned to 67 Starshine Lane. The dark red stallion, mane greying with age, gave his nephew a grin and pulled him into an embrace once he saw him. Helsing just stood there awkwardly and let it happen, but eventually thought to return the gesture by weakly placing one hoof around his uncle's neck.

"How're ya doing?" True Shot asked as he pulled away, leading Helsing inside.

"Good, thank you," said Helsing, wiping his hooves on the doormat.

"Aye. Glad to hear it." True Shot locked the door behind them. "C'mon. Yer brother and sister are here."

That made Helsing perk up. He put down his shopping bags and followed his uncle to the sitting room, where Cotton and his mother were still chatting away. Service and Soft Spoken were both nowhere to be seen this time. Instead, it was Helsing's little sister that sat with them, daintily sipping from a teacup. With her white coat, golden mane, and feathery wings, she was a dead ringer for their mother, and her cutie mark of a winged musical note and halo indicated that she had her voice as well. It was her eyes that set her apart. They were green, like their father's had been, rather than the deep blue of Helsing's and Choir's.

The mares all stopped and looked over to them. Angel rose from her seat with a bright smile and came over.

"I've missed you so much, big brother," she said, embracing him. "I didn't know anypony in New Manesterdam, and there were such big crowds there."

Helsing returned her hug more easily than he did his uncle's.

"To be sure. You, uh... did well, though, I hope?"

Angel pulled away and nodded.

"Yes. They cheered very loudly at the end. But it wasn't just for me! There was a whole cast there, and they were all very good singers as well. Oh, you should've heard them, Helsing!"

"Aye, maybe I will someday..." Helsing looked about. "Is Sacred around?"

Angel smiled knowingly. Helsing turned around, and found his younger brother standing there beside Soft Spoken.

Sacred Fire was smaller and shorter than Helsing, being two years younger, but had a muscular build for a unicorn. Like their mother and sister, his mane was yellow, but his coat was a vibrant orange, giving him the fiery look that was his namesake. His cutie mark also reflected this, a slanted image of a burning brazier, like the ones found in Celestian churches. Many took it to mean he had talent for holy pyromancies and sunlight magic, which he could certainly perform competently, though it was also often joked that his cutie mark was actually a falling brazier, representing a talent for arson.

"Hello there, brother," Sacred said, waving casually. "Keeping well?"

"Aye. Yourself?"

"Aye. Never better."

"It's been a long time since last I saw all three o' yeh together," said True Shot, smiling. "In fact, I think the last time was... well, last Hearth's Warmin'."

"Time flies, uncle," said Helsing.

"Aye. It does indeed... Are yeh all moved in here?"

"I moved my things into the guest room after I arrived this morning."

"Good, good..."

True Shot went to sit down with the rest of the family, but Helsing instead took his shopping bags and went upstairs. Sacred and Angel both followed.

"How was the palace?" Helsing asked as they climbed.

"It was the most beautiful place I've ever seen," Angel said wistfully. "You should see it too! Uncle True showed us the throne room, and we even got to see the Princess! She's just as splendid as they all say!"

They passed by the guest room where the three of them had been housed, but instead of going in, Helsing just dropped his bags outside the door and proceeded down the hall.

"That's wonderful, Angel," he said. "Maybe I will go see it."

His siblings followed quietly behind, plainly confused, until they came to a door left ajar at the end of the hall. The three of them entered their uncle's study.

Every wall of the room was covered in bookshelves, but many were full of strange trinkets instead of books. Curios and relics, like odd-looking keyrings or highly detailed snowglobes, filled nearly half the shelves. A display cabinet in the corner of the room was full of foreign coins, and in another corner were several cardboard boxes, packed with new books still in their brown wrapping. Just across the room, flames crackled away in a small hearth beside a comfy green chair and a writing desk, piled with bottles of colourful liquids. A rusty halberd, propped against the desk, leaned precariously over the chair.

Helsing started rifling through the clutter on the desk.

"Um, brother?" said Angel.

"Helsing, what are you doing?" asked Sacred.

"Have you heard about this mysterious serial killer in Canterlot?"

"The one who killed that prostitute? Aye, I've heard of him. Why?"

Pushing the chair aside, Helsing ducked below the desk and pulled out a small wooden chest with an iron lock that still had the key in it.

"I think it's a vampire."

"Woah..." said Sacred, eyes wide. "You're not thinking of going after it, are you?"

Helsing opened the chest and frowned, pulling out an old crossbow made of sturdy iron. Twenty-six notches were scratched into the handle, along with the insignia of the Hunters Guild – a beast crucified upon a burning cross. After a brief inspection, he put it back, closed the chest, and shoved it back under the desk.

"I was. Tonight, in fact. But first I need to do some investigating. Supposedly, the Royal Guard are in charge of the case, or at least that's what the Herald says. It may just be a front while the local hunters work on it, but either way, the Royal Guard would probably have case files, and I need to see them if I'm going to beat them to it."

Sacred whistled.

"Tall order. You want to find a monster that both hunters and law enforcement have already been searching for, and do it first? Don't get me wrong, brother, I have faith in you, but you may be setting your sights a little high."

Finally, Helsing found what he was looking for in one of the desk drawers. He grinned as he floated out an iron keyring.

"Maybe so," he said, jangling them in the air. "But with Uncle True's keys, I think the first phase of the plan at least will go smoothly."

Sacred grinned in response, but Angel just stared agape at her brothers.

"I can't believe you two!" she snapped. "It's Hearth's Warming, and you're both thinking about hunting down vampires and serial killers! What's wrong with you?"

Both the stallions turned on her.

"Us? What's wrong with us?" asked Helsing. "How about what's wrong with you? Do you see either of us giving you a hard time for pursuing your interests?"

Angel glared at him. "It's not the same, Helsing! I'm not interested in horrid things like you are! Why do you have to be like this?"

"Like what?" said Helsing, glaring back. "Like a hunter? Like our father, Angel? Look, it's a dirty job, but somepony's gotta do it. We'd all be drowning in blood and beasts if it weren't for ponies like us. You could show a little gratitude every once in a while."

Angel scoffed, tossing her head. The swishing of her mane afforded a brief glimpse of the spiral mark on the back of her neck, and reminded Helsing that for all their differences, he and Angel were still very much alike, in all the ways he wished they weren't.

"Fine. Whatever." She trotted over to the door. "I won't tell mom or Uncle True, but you two better not get yourselves caught!"

She slammed the door shut behind her, leaving the two alone in the study.

Helsing looked to Sacred. "So, how about it? Want to help me?"

Sacred raised an eyebrow.

"Let us be clear. You want me to help you break into Canterlot Castle to access the Royal Guard's private case files, an act that technically counts as treason, I remind you, and probably some kind of heresy too, so that we can go chasing down a vampire, which you want to find and murder before the authorities beat you to it?"

"Aye," Helsing said with a straight face.

Sacred smiled.

"Do you even have to ask, brother?"

Fifteen minutes later, Helsing was wrapped up in his long red overcoat again and trotting down the darkened streets of Canterlot, his brother dutifully following at his side. Sacred Fire had only a scarf and a woolen hat to keep him warm, not being a professional hunter himself yet, but Helsing shared his equipment with him. Sacred carried a set of saddlebags containing Helsing's spare stakes, a hammer, some bottles of holy water, and a silver dagger. A golden sun symbol hung around his neck, and he floated their uncle's old crossbow at his side.

"How's your aim?" asked Helsing.

"Better than it was last summer," Sacred answered.

"Good. The crossbow is a hunter's most useful tool. Don't get in a monster's range if you don't have to."

"I know, brother. I may not be a hunter yet, but I've trained just like you have."

"Aye, I know. Just that I worry. I had dad and Uncle True to learn from. You've only ever had Grisly."

"And you."

"And me, aye."

They continued talking for most of the way as they trekked across Canterlot, discussing hunting, and family, and how eager they both were to get back to the Griffish Isles where work wasn't so quiet. They complained together about the dullness of the Heartland, and joked about Angel's overreaction, Choir's sternness, and Cotton Wool's doting. It all served to take their mind off the cold, as the Canterlot snows made them both shiver the whole way there, Sacred most of all.

The light of the heart-shaped bonfire illuminated their way, bathing the streets in flickering pink light. It was a longer walk than Helsing had been anticipating, so the relief was almost palpable when the castle's gates finally came into view.

Canterlot Castle towered over the rest of the city. Its spires rose higher than any other, eclipsed only by the mountain itself. Surrounding it on all sides were vast swathes of snow-covered land, dotted with statue gardens, animal habitats, mazes, and other, smaller buildings. A low castle wall enclosed the grounds, not enough to provide any real military defence, but enough to ensure that unicorns and earth ponies couldn't just walk onto the grounds as they pleased.

Helsing and Sacred turned right when they reached the end of the street, avoiding the guards and the front gate. They instead circled around the outskirts of the grounds, following another street that ran alongside the outer wall so that Helsing could inspect it. Low as it was, the wall was topped by battlements, where white-coated Royal Guards in golden armour marched back and forth on patrol. Here and there, Helsing could also see the occasional cannon, relics of wars fought long ago. Though they were just decorative now, he wondered whether they could still fire.

"Well... how do we get in?" asked Sacred.

Helsing stroked his chin, looking up and down the length of the wall. There were plenty of gates and other openings to slip through, including the one they'd just swerved to avoid, but they were all guarded, and the ponies would probably never leave their stations unattended.

"Hmm... I'm not sure. I had no time to stake out the place. What would you suggest? You've been in there."

"Seriously, Helsing? You don't have a plan?"

"I improvise my plans. If you don't go in with a plan, your plan can't be foiled by circumstances."

Sacred grumbled. "Well, it looks pretty airtight to me... Could we go over the wall with a rope?"

"If we time it right to avoid the patrols, then maybe... I'd need to get a rope, first. Alternatively, I suppose we could try to sneak through the front gate. But we'd need a distraction..."

Suddenly, a thundering boom echoed through the night from further down the wall, and a crashing noise and a sound of distant screaming came from the castle grounds. The guards on the wall abandoned their patrols immediately and galloped in the direction of the noise, while the guards on the gate ran back into the grounds towards the cries of terror and agony.

Helsing blinked.

"...Will that make a good distraction?" asked Sacred.

"Aye. That'll do nicely." Helsing opened his coat and drew his crossbow, before slamming a bolt into it. "Come on!"

The brothers ran towards the now unguarded gate, and went through into the castle grounds. As soon as they were past, they turned right and ran out across the snow-covered grounds, towards where the Royal Guards were running. Another blast sounded, and this time Helsing and Sacred could see what was happening.

Across the grounds, beyond the maze and the statue garden, a stone fortress stood apart from Canterlot Castle. It was small compared to the main palace, but still three floors high and built of sturdy grey stone. Yet now, its defences had been smashed. After two blasts, most of the ground floor's front wall had collapsed entirely, and the outside was strewn with rubble. Royal Guards were buried underneath it, both Day Guards in their shining golden armour, and Night Guards with their deep purple armour and grey coats.

Helsing and Sacred ran most of the way over, but stopped to hide behind a bush halfway there. A third booming noise came from the wall to their right. Looking over, Helsing saw that it was one of the cannons firing, turned back on the castle rather than outwards at the city. There was a battle going on atop the wall between the Royal Guard and a small band of about a dozen griffons, which the Royal Guard was losing badly.

Corpses piled up beneath the wall as the griffons killed the castle's defenders, and the cannon fired a fourth blast at the fortress, shattering the thick oaken doors on its lower level. The gate guards and several other ponies from across the grounds ran out between the fortress and the wall. They opened fire on the griffons with spells and crossbows, but the griffons fired back with crossbows of their own.

The guards were shot down one by one, while the griffons seemed to shrug off everything that was thrown at them. They were definitely being struck, but whenever one of them got an arrow or a bolt in their neck, they would just casually rip it out and resume their assault. The griffon who had commandeered the cannon fired a fifth time, and took out a large number of Royal Guards with the impact of the cannonball. In less than two minutes, the defenders were finished, and the griffons swooped down and across the grounds, converging on the ruined fortress.

Helsing got a closer look at the griffons as they made for the fortress, counting thirteen of them. All were completely clad in black, and had a bulky look to them, as if they were wearing armour beneath their disguises. Although it was hard to make out in the dark, the glint of moonlight off the metal also revealed that at least a few of them were sporting wing-blades as well as crossbows.

One pony of the Night Guard was still alive outside the fortress, half-buried under the rubble and struggling to stand. As soon as he was on his hooves, a crossbow bolt struck him in the throat, and he collapsed. With the resistance wiped out, the griffons flew into the fortress through the hole, completely unopposed.

"...Shit," said Sacred. "We have to go, Helsing. This is out of our league."

Just as he turned away, Helsing grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck and yanked him back.

"We are not going anywhere. This is the opportunity we were waiting for. Do you know what that fortress is, little brother?"

Sacred gulped. "The Royal Guard's central command."

"Aye," said Helsing, pulling up a facemask to cover his snout. "Whoever these griffons are, I'd bet good money that they're going for the same target we are. We have to get there first."

The inside of the fortress was dark, illuminated only by the occasional oil lamp rather than torches or magical lights, and they didn't do much to fight back the chill drifting in from outside. Helsing and Sacred walked down a stone corridor, passing bloody smears on the walls, the latter now using his scarf as a makeshift facemask. Corpses on the ground stared up at them with glassy eyes, their faces twisted into expressions of horror. Not one of their swords or spears or halberds were bloodied – none them had even gotten a hit in on their attackers. The screams of still-living guards echoed from further into the fortress, but the dark corridor turned at the end, so the brothers couldn't see anything.

Helsing and Sacred passed below murder-holes in the ceiling and arrowslits in the walls, none of which appeared to have done any good against the invaders. In various side-rooms along the corridors, they found more corpses and fresh blood. In some areas, the griffons had even snuffed out the light by smashing the oil lamps, so Sacred lit their way with his talent spell, producing a flame as bright as sunlight.

Deeper into the fortress, the chill became less noticeable, but the situation only got worse. The distant screams never stopped, and the bodies and gore and discarded weapons only became more numerous. At one point, they came across a pile of no less than six guards, all missing different combinations of limbs, with a sword thrust through all of them like a giant fork. Here there was more evidence of resistance, including a broken wing-blade and scraps of black cloth amongst all the blood, but their efforts were still inadequate.

"Eugh," said Sacred, wrinkling his nose under the scarf. "Is this what it's like on the night of the hunt?"

"Worse, some nights," said Helsing. "When the blood moon's in the sky, everybody goes a little crazy, beasts and ponies both. Civilians caught outside tend to end up like this, and even some hunters don't make it through. But this kind of massacre is usually the work of blood-crazed beasts. I've never seen people do something like this, especially under a grey moon."

"Do you think these are people?"

"Good question. I doubt it; this reeks of vampire. But no evidence of them eating their victims yet. You can always tell a vampire attack from your standard bandit raid by the cannibalism."

Around the next corner, they could hear the sounds of an ongoing battle. This wasn't distant. They were close to this one.

A dying pony cried out. There was a thump, and then a visceral tearing.

"Be ready," Helsing whispered.

They crept forward, and prepared to turn the corner. But before they knew what was happening, the blood-soaked griffon leapt out into view and lunged at them at them with a hiss. In the split-second he had to react, Helsing drew a silver dagger and floated it around his attacker's side.

He stabbed it in the lower hind leg. The masked griffon screeched like an eagle and staggered back, staring at the wound with wide eyes full of shock and fury. That had been a gamble. Helsing was sure that the griffon was wearing some kind of armour underneath the black clothing, but if it was light enough to fly in, it couldn't have been full-plate. He'd just had to guess at which areas would be most unprotected, and he'd guessed right.

Helsing smiled darkly under his mask.

"Wondering why you're not regenerating, heathen?" he said, twirling the dagger. "You attacked Celestia's castle. You should've expected sunlight."

The griffon snarled and lunged again. This time Helsing went for the eyes, ramming his silver dagger straight through. Vampire blood sprayed over his coat as the griffon collapsed, writhing in agony. Helsing didn't stop, instead forcing the dagger further into the griffon's eye and twisting it in its socket, drawing pained screams from it.

Sacred watched with fascination as Helsing ripped off the griffon's mask and breastplate with his magic, exposing her brown and white feathers and a pair of very tiny fangs inside her beak. Griffons didn't even have teeth, but there they were.

Helsing removed a wooden stake and hammer from his coat, positioned them over the vampire's heart, and drove the stake through with a single blow. She screamed louder, and kept writhing for another second or two, before finally falling limp and silent. Helsing turned to Sacred.

"You see, little brother? This is the process by which we kill a vampire. No matter how much we damage the brain, a vampire can regenerate it through its blood. Therefore, we want to stop the heart, so that it no longer pumps this evil blood up to the head and keeps the vampire living. Even cutting the head off completely will do little if you don't stop the heart; it'll just grow a new one."

He placed the hammer back in its holder inside his coat.

"Would you like to try the next one?"

"Me?" said Sacred, taken aback. "Kill a vampire? You think I'm ready?"

Helsing shrugged. "I killed my first at fourteen. You're a year older than I was. I think you're more than ready. If you're truly willing to endure the Nightmare, that is."

Sacred looked down. "Well... if you think so, I'll give it a go!"

Helsing patted his brother on the back.

"Come on. Let's get going."

Helsing pondered on the vampires as he and Sacred crept through the fortress. He thought back to his encounter with Les Griffes D'argent Bénis, and wondered what connection they had to the group he and his brother were currently fighting. It couldn't be coincidence. Les Griffes D'argent Bénis had obviously been hunters, probably from Griffonstone, since they didn't recognise his garb as the common style of Trottingham's hunters. And now they were here in Canterlot at the same time a group of vampire griffons were attacking the castle. There was some relationship here. He just didn't know what.

They climbed a set of stairs, and paused at the top when they spotted another vampiric griffon further down the hall. He was bent over a corpse, noisily and messily devouring it.

The two sneaked up behind the vampire, whose disguise was now torn and ragged from dozens of cuts. Helsing again readied his dagger. The light blue glow of his magic alerted the vampire, who turned to look back at them, but wasn't fast enough to react in time. Helsing's magic grabbed it by the neck, and his dagger floated around and slashed its throat, spilling fresh crimson blood. The vampire tried to scream, but only gargled instead.

Helsing threw the vampire to the floor, away from the guard it had been eating, and stabbed it several more times in the neck and face. It flailed about, choking up blood, and was finally silenced when Helsing opened his coat and drew a steel longsword, which he quickly used to decapitate the vampire. Its headless body went still.

"Come on now," said Helsing. "Give it a try."

"Um... that sword is blessed, isn't it? Won't decapitating a vampire with a blessed weapon prevent it from healing?"

"No. The blessing left by a strike from a holy weapon is temporary, Sacred. Vampire regeneration can overcome it with time if the heart still beats. It is always necessary to ensure that the heart is destroyed beyond recovery."

Sacred brought out a stake and hammer from his bags, and positioned them over the headless corpse's heart. He hesitated, and glanced back to his brother. Helsing gave an approving nod, and Sacred lifted the hammer, took a deep breath, and struck.

The body twitched violently for a second, and then fell still.

"Good," said Helsing. "Now let's try fighting one next. I want to see how you handle a weapon. Blade or crossbow, it's your choice."

Sacred drew their uncle's crossbow, readied a silver bolt, and nodded to Helsing. They moved down the corridor together, checking the side-rooms one by one. All of them were dead and bloody, so they moved on quickly, until Sacred stumbled across a dead unicorn with a sword.

"Hey, look," said Sacred, lifting the sword with his magic and turning it over in the air. "Unicorn sword. I trained with these under Grisly."

"Aye. They're good weapons if you have to get in close. But that one won't do you much good without a sunlight enchantment."

Sacred floated the sword over to Helsing.

"Think you could help me out with that, brother?"

Helsing gave him a flat look.

"I can't use sunlight magic, Sacred. That's kind of your thing."

"So? I'll do the magic. I just need you to say the right words."

Helsing sighed. "Fine."

Sacred closed his eyes, his horn glowing a golden hue as he channeled magic into the guardspony's sword. Helsing removed the sun symbol around his neck and held it against the blade of the floating sword, shutting his eyes as well as he muttered a prayer.

"'Blessed is the sun, and may she hear our call,'" he recited. "'May Celestia watch over us in the darkest of nights, and let us carry sunlight with us. Give strength to this hunter's sword, by hoof and by magic, that it may be used to slay the servants of evil. For the light we fight, and for the light may we die. Umbasa."

Helsing opened his eyes and tossed the sword carelessly over to Sacred, who caught it just before it struck him.

"Sorry that I can't do better. I'm no priest, so that'll have to do."

"It'll hurt vampires, though?"

"About as well as my dagger will."

Sacred swished the sword in the air.

"How long does it take them to regenerate from your longsword?"

"A few minutes, but this one was dad's. It's a professionally-treated hunter's sword, blessed by the Bishop of Trottingham herself. Yours is an amateur's work, so don't rely on it. If you're going to kill a vampire, do it quickly."

It wasn't long before they came across another vampire. This one was hiding away in one of the side rooms, but the sounds of tearing flesh and animalistic chewing gave him away. Helsing and Sacred edged over to the door, and silently signalled to each other their readiness. On the count of three, they both rushed into the room, where the vampire was startled from his feast.

Sacred knocked him away from the dead guard and slammed him up against the wall with his body. The vampire shrieked at him, but Sacred raised his sword and plunged it into the creature's side before he had a chance to strike him. Blood spilled out and soaked both the vampire's clothing and Sacred's coat. Some of it got on his scarf as well, but fortunately it was woven too thick to soak all the way through. Just to be safe, Helsing quietly cast a spell of his own on Sacred, to afford him some extra protection. The vampire collapsed to the floor, screaming, but Sacred ignored his cries, and carefully removed the vampire's plate armour so that he could drive a stake into his heart. When the vampire finally fell still, Sacred backed away, breathing heavily.

"...Okay," said Helsing. "Not exactly the cleanest kill, but solid. You stabbed it before it could get a hit in on you, so that's good. But don't get so close, next time. Vampire blood is dangerous stuff, and you want to keep away from it when possible. Never stab when you can shoot, and never use hooves when you can use magic. Covering the mouth helps, but you never know when your mask might slip or get torn in a fight."

Sacred's head drooped. "Sorry. I'll do better next time."

Helsing paused, pursing his lips and wondering whether to say anything, but he came up with nothing. Instead, they just proceeded on.

Three down, ten to go.

Suits of armour lined the walls of the fortress's top floor, silent sentinels dispassionately watching over the carnage. The corpses of the Royal Guards piled at their hooves, their blood pooling beneath them and dripping down the steps. Helsing and Sacred fouled their hooves in it as they ascended, the air around them tinged with a metallic stench that didn't make the grisly scene any more pleasant.

Helsing stopped at the top of the stairs, and held a hoof out to stop his brother too. His eyes narrowed on the far end of the hallway, where moonlight shone through an open door leading to the outside. Thinking back, Helsing recalled seeing battlements atop the fortress, though there hadn't been any guards patrolling on them. Had the vampires escaped and flown away already?

With a silencing gesture to Sacred, Helsing crept along the hall, making note of the doors between the suits of armor. These led to offices, whereas the side rooms on the lower floors had typically been barracks and storerooms. Light poured out from some, where hearthfires still crackled inside and oil lanterns stood on desks, but even the rooms that were still bright were splashed with streaks of red.

Helsing's ears twitched as a feminine voice drifted down the hall from one of the far rooms.

"...Gone too far this time! You know I can't allow—"

"Can't allow what?" said a second female voice. "Can't allow me to live? Are you that tightly bound to your oath, that you'd raise your blade against your own blood?"

Helsing looked back to Sacred and flicked his head in the direction of the voices. Sacred nodded, and readied his sword. Together, the two of them crept along corridor, hugging the wall.

"This isn't about family or oaths. You're a murderer. That's enough for me."

"As if you have room to talk, sister. You've broken the law for your little group just as much as I have for mine."

"Of the two of us, you're the only one eating people, Gertrude."

The voices were coming from a room on the right side of the corridor, a dim light spilling out from a wide open set of double doors. Helsing and Sacred came to a stop beside the doors, crouching just outside the room. Though they couldn't see inside from their angle, the shadows of the room's occupants flickered slightly on the opposite wall. Only two were speaking, but it looked as if there were at least four griffons inside.

"What business is it of yours, anyway?" asked Gertrude, her voice sounding clearer now. "You never wanted anything to do with me before."

"It's my business because I'm a hunter. I kill monsters, sister. Why did you become one, if this was something you wanted to avoid?"

"Tsk, tsk. Whatever will you tell mother, Geraldine?"

"The truth. That you died screaming, as I burned you."

The shadows moved. Glass shattered, and there was a flash of light from within the room, and shouting. Helsing could only guess that the one called Geraldine had thrown some sort of firebomb, but it didn't sound like she'd hit her mark. There was a clashing, steel on steel, and the griffons in the room grunted as their shadows on the wall grappled with one another.

Helsing rose to his hooves, but before he could make a move, an armoured griffon came sailing back out of the room and slammed into the wall. Already unconscious, she slumped forward and collapsed on the stone floor with a clatter. Helsing's eyes ran over her body, and locked onto her silver talon sigil. It was the one who'd accosted him. The young one pretending to be older.

A vampiric griffon stepped out into the corridor as well, her black mask removed to reveal a white face with a wide, sinister grin. She stood over the unconscious Geraldine and chuckled darkly.

"Ah, sister... Whenever will you learn?"

Helsing and Sacred moved as one, the elder brother loosing a bolt into her neck while the younger ran up and drove his sword through her back. Gertrude hissed, but it turned into a scream as Sacred twisted the blade before tearing it out of her. She stumbled and fell against the wall, next to her sister. Reaching up to her neck, she grabbed Helsing's bolt with a claw and ripped it out, seething. Helsing readied a second bolt, while Sacred backed away and waved his sword in a vaguely threatening motion.

"So..." she growled, clutching her wounds. "Les Griffes D'argent Bénis are hiring ponies now, are they? Sister, your standards are dropping all the time..."

Helsing lifted his crossbow again. "Shut up."

He fired his second bolt directly into her eye socket. Gertrude jolted, and dropped to the floor unceremoniously, blood pooling beneath her. Helsing reloaded as he and his brother charged through the doors beside them to join the other fight.

The room was another office. Bookshelves lined its edges, with a desk full of papers and a lantern at the back. A big red rug sat in the middle of the room, where one of Geraldine's hunters and a vampire were duelling. There were corpses belonging to Royal Guards piled up in the corners of the room, and the body of a second hunter lay on the rug between the two duelists, bleeding into it. Actually, upon closer inspection, Helsing saw that rug wasn't red after all. Easy mistake.

Their entrance was a fatal distraction. The griffon hunter, being the one facing the doors, saw Helsing and Sacred enter. Immediately his eyes widened in recognition.

"You!"

The hunter's momentary surprise cost him his life. The vampire brought up a wing-blade and sliced into the side of his neck, catching him between where the plates of his armour met. The hunter staggered, blood pouring down his front. Just for good measure, the vampire lunged forward and tore out the hunter's eye with his beak.

The griffon collapsed, and the rug became even redder.

Helsing didn't stop to comment. Instead, he fired another crossbow bolt into the vampire's back. It screeched and tried to reach back to pull it out. In that brief moment of struggle, Sacred rushed forward and swung his sword. His technique was sloppy, but forceful, and the blade cut through the vampire's neck with relative ease. Blood sprayed all over the office, and Helsing and Sacred both stepped back to avoid it.

"Damn, that's nasty," said Helsing.

"Am... I alright?" Sacred stammered. "Did any of it get in my eyes?"

"You're fine so long as you kill it. You can't be infected by a vampire you've killed. It's me you should be worried about. Watch out for bystanders when you get messy like that."

"But it's..." Sacred gestured to the decapitated vampire. "It isn't actually dead yet, is it?"

"Correct. Remember the procedure."

Sacred drew his borrowed stake and hammer again. Just as before, he was uncertain at first, and looked to his brother for reassurance. Helsing nodded his approval, but turned away before Sacred finished the staking. Back in the corridor, Gertrude was pulling herself up.

She leaned against the wall, the silver bolt still lodged in her eye. Her wounds were finally healing, but it was a slower process than it should've been for a vampire. Whimpering, Gertrude wrapped her claws around the bolt, and prepared to pull it out. But before she could, a faint blue aura appeared around it, and she screeched like a banshee as Helsing ripped it out in one quick motion.

He dashed across the room while she was disoriented and slammed into her. Gertrude crumpled to the floor again, and this time found the bolt at her throat. Sacred soon appeared at Helsing's side, vampire blood dripping from his coat. Gertrude gave them a wary look, swallowing.

"Alright, heretic, here's how this is going to work," said Helsing, sounding almost disinterested. "I will ask you a question. You will give me an answer. If you fail to answer, or I think you're lying, I cut off a body part. We'll keep going like that until I'm satisfied, and at the end, we can discuss whether you'll live or die. Clear?"

The vampire nodded.

"Good. Start by identifying yourself."

"...C-Captain Gertrude," she answered. "Head of the Blackfeathers Company."

That was her name, according to the conversation he'd overheard, so she wasn't lying yet. Helsing looked sideways at his brother, and gestured in the direction of Geraldine. Sacred went over to the unconscious griffon and shook her body.

"Why are you here, Gertrude? Were you hired?"

She hesitated. The wait was a second too long for Helsing, who took the bolt and thrust it through one of her lion paws. She screamed, and Helsing leaned in.

"Answer me, heathen."

"Yes! Yes, we were hired!"

"By who?"

"I can't tell you that!"

Helsing didn't cut off a limb. Instead, he drove the bolt upwards into the paw, until it disappeared into her leg. She thrashed, howling in agony as the holy enchantment burned her from the inside. Helsing remained as cold and impassive as ever.

"Have you ever been scared, monster? I haven't. At least, if I ever was, it was too long ago for me to remember. Tell me, what's it like? To feel fear? To know that I'm going to kill you slowly and painfully if you don't answer my damn questions?"

"Aghhhhh! It was a pony! A vampire! New in town! He wanted us to destroy the Royal Guard's evidence on him!"

"Is he the serial killer? The one behind the recent murders?"

"Yes! Aghhh! Please, make it stop!"

"I'll make it stop when I'm done asking. The pain is keeping you honest. What's his name?"

"Ripper!" she screamed. "His name was Ripper! He's got a room at the Sun and Stars Inn on Mane Street, okay?! By Boreas, please stop it!"

"One more question. How long have the Blackfeathers Company been vampires? Was your new client your maker, or was it somebody else?"

"It was him! He made us like this, as payment! One big, high-risk job in exchange for immortality!"

Helsing snorted. "That was stupid of you. Enslaving yourself to a monster's will and forsaking the sunlight, all for a false promise. Only Celestia is immortal, heathen."

Tears ran down Gertrude's face, the captain of the Blackfeathers reduced to a whimpering wreck by the silver bolt in her leg. Helsing sneered as he stood back up, drawing his stake and hammer. In the moments before he struck, she seemed to recognise that she was about to die, but Helsing drove the stake through her before she even had time to protest.

He looked over to his brother, now cradling Geraldine's body. Sacred stared at Gertrude's corpse, and then returned Helsing's gaze.

"She's not waking, brother," he murmured.

Helsing casually kicked Gertrude's body aside. "Shame. We'll have to leave her then."

Sacred stood, setting Geraldine down.

"Leave her?"

"Aye. We have what we came for. Our job here's done." Helsing walked back off towards the stairs. "If we leave now, we might even have time to stop by the Sun and Stars on our way home."

"What about the rest of the Blackfeathers?" Sacred shouted. "There's only five accounted for out of a dozen! The remaining Royal Guard are going to get slaughtered without us!"

"Not our problem, brother."

"I think it is."

Helsing stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder at Sacred.

"Don't be naive, Sacred. This is Canterlot Castle. Apollo Division are probably on their way as we speak. Celestia's own hunters are more than capable of dealing with this rabble. And speaking purely for myself, I would really rather not be here when they arrive."

Sacred opened his mouth to argue, but Geraldine stirred.

"Urghhh..." she moaned. "Sister..."

"Helsing," Sacred hissed. "We have to at least rescue her. She's a fellow hunter."

"She's an amateur, is what she is."

Just then, the sound of hooves on stone echoed from down the corridor, and distant voices made themselves heard.

"Check upstairs!" one called.

"They went this way!" said another.

Helsing's eyes went wide. "Shit, shit, shit!"

He grabbed Sacred by the collar and pushed him into the office, running inside after him. Sacred reached out with his magic and grabbed Geraldine, hauling her in after them just as Helsing threw the doors shut. Sacred, thinking quickly, moved the desk in front of the doors to form a barricade.

"Damn it!" Helsing slapped his forehead. "We're going to get found now! You couldn't leave well enough alone, you could, Sacred?"

"Me? You're the one who—"

Helsing shushed him as the guards approached their door. One of them tried to force it open, but the barricade held.

"I think it's locked," said a muffled voice on the other side.

There was a knocking.

"Hey! Anypony alive in there?"

Helsing gave Sacred a wary look.

"Um... who is it?" he answered, faking a Heartland accent.

"Sergeant Hailstone, Day Guard fifth company. Are you injured, soldier?"

"...Horseshit. How do I know you're not one of them?"

"Uh..."

Sacred stared at Helsing.

"What the hell are you doing?" he mouthed.

Right. He remembered now. Heartlanders weren't so big on harsh language.

"I... I'm not opening this door until you can prove it to me!" Helsing shouted.

"Well... how do we know you're not a vampire?"

This is the stupidest situation I've ever gotten myself into, Helsing thought.

"I suppose you don't! I suppose I'll have to... stay behind this door. Until all the vampires are—"

"Sergeant!" called another guardspony.

There was a snarl.

"Oh, sweet Celestia!"

From beyond the door came screams of terror and agony, accompanied by a chorus of wailing, crying, and the sound of tearing flesh.

"Please no! I don't want to di— Aghhhhhh! Oh, Celestia, please!"

The guard's voice became a wet gurgle, and the sounds of slaughter continued outside. Helsing had no idea how to react to this.

"...We're screwed," Sacred said simply.

There was a groan from the corner of the room, and Geraldine's eyes fluttered open.

"What...? Gertrude?" she mumbled.

"Oh, wonderful," said Helsing, rolling his eyes. "I think we've already died. This is Hell."

Geraldine quickly stood up, panicking, but seemed to lose her balance. Sacred rushed in to support her.

"Who are you ponies?" she demanded, pulling away from Sacred. "What happened to my comrades?"

A quick look at the rug answered her question, and she balked at the sight. Then she noticed the cacophony on the other side of the door, and cringed at the sound.

"You're pretty squeamish for a hunter," said Helsing.

"Hey, back off! I usually kill the damned things before they have a chance to do anything like... Hey, wait a minute! I know you!"

"Took you long enough."

"You're that kid we stopped earlier! What was your name? Van Helsing, was it?"

He looked at her curiously.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Twenty-seven. Not that it's any of your business."

Liar.

"A decade older than me, and still an amateur," Helsing gave her an oily smile. "It's a wonder you made it this far. How are you even still alive?"

Geraldine tried to say something, but was cut off by another loud squelching sound from the other side of the door. With that, silence settled. The battle was over.

Something slammed into the door again, making Geraldine recoil.

"I heard ponies. Gilles, get the others. We need some muscle."

"The Blackfeathers..." she whispered. "But... where's my sister?"

Helsing slowly turned his head toward her.

"I killed her."

Geraldine stared blankly at him. For a second, Helsing thought that she was about to cry, but they were interrupted again by something loud slamming into the door.

"They're in there! Come help us break this down!"

A number of voices gave their assent. Helsing estimated anywhere between five and seven. He readied his crossbow and dagger as he moved closer to the door, while Sacred assumed a stance with his sword. Geraldine hesitantly drew her own crossbow and readied her wing-blades.

Helsing looked back at them. "When they come through, no mercy. Hit them with everything."

The doors partially opened, and a huge, blood-soaked monster of a griffon stuck his head through the crack, grinning at them. Two silver bolts struck him in the face. He howled as he fell back, but his fellow vampires pushed forward. The doors burst down, knocking the desk aside haphazardly, and five more maniacs rushed in, all without their masks.

Helsing abandoned his crossbow, unable to reload in time, and instead paired his sword and dagger to slash at the two vampires coming for him. They cried out, not expecting the sting of his blessed weapons. Even weak vampires could normally shrug off wounds like the ones he'd dealt, but only because they usually healed right away, which these wouldn't. Even over the course of just one night, their regenerative powers had made the Blackfeathers sloppier. Helsing pressed his advantage, even as the other three vampires rushed past him towards Sacred and Geraldine.

He focused on the one on his left first, aiming both his sword and his dagger at the vulnerable wings and talons, before going for the face. He stabbed the vampire through the beak, blade bursting out of the back of his head, and grinned. Then he whirled around to face the second. Stunned by the sudden death of his comrade, the other vampire tried to back away. Too late. Helsing was already upon him.

A cut across the chest. One up under the throat. One in the side. A stab right in the wing. And for the final touch, a strong cut right through the neck. Helsing laughed maniacally as the vampire's head separated from his neck and sailed through the air, blood trailing behind it.

Before the head even hit the ground, the stakes were out. Helsing didn't even use his hammer this time. With the force of his magic alone, he tore the armour off the griffon's chest and drove the stake through its heart, all while its headless body was still standing. Then he turned around and did the same to the other, still bleeding on the floor. Two vampires down in less than half a minute.

Helsing looked behind, to Sacred and Geraldine. Two of the six who'd tried to break down the door were still standing. Sacred was engaging one in a swordfight, and losing badly despite the inherent combat advantages of being a unicorn. Geraldine was holding back the other, using her wing-blades to keep him at bay. Another lay on the floor between them, gasping for breath, a wooden stake buried in his neck.

From across the room, Helsing tore that stake out with his magic, and put it in its proper place, killing the injured vampire. Then he moved over to Sacred's opponent and drove a sword through his back. The vampire screeched and turned to face Helsing, only for Sacred to then stab him through the back as well. Helsing finished him with a stake.

Out in the corridor, the big vampire was on his feet again, and came bounding back in. The bolts were no longer in his face, but the wounds persisted. He screamed an incoherent warcry, but Helsing and Sacred both cut him down and staked him almost without effort. Finally, Helsing casually dispatched the vampire Geraldine was fighting, driving his final stake through its back just as it finally staggered her and looked about to get a hit in.

Geraldine was panting by the time the fight was over. She dropped her weapons and held a claw over her heart. Sacred was similarly exhausted, sweat running down his forehead as he surveyed the damage. Seven dead vampires now littered the floor of the office, not including Gertrude just out in the corridor. It was a bloodbath.

Helsing smiled.

"You know, Sacred, you were right. I'm glad we stayed to fight the rest of them. I feel like this was a more complete ending to things."

More voices drifted down the corridor. Helsing's smile vanished, and he quickly grabbed his crossbow and sheathed his blades.

"Come on, quickly," he hissed.

The three of them stormed out of the office together, but Geraldine stopped in her tracks as the brothers passed Gertrude's corpse. Her eyes widened, and she held her heart again. Helsing didn't break stride as he made for the open door at the end, but Sacred stopped halfway.

"Hey, you coming?" he called.

Geraldine didn't respond.

"Helsing, she's—"

"For Celestia's sake, Sacred! Leave her!"

Sacred hesitated, but ran off to catch up with his brother. They were nearly to the end of the corridor, and approaching the door onto the battlements, when a trio of Night Guards swooped in on batlike wings.

"Shit!" Helsing drew his sword, and the Night Guards raised their spears in response. "Other way!"

He unleashed a spell in their direction, blinding the guards with a flash of light, before turning and galloping away. He quickly caught up with Sacred, and the two of them rushed past Geraldine, heading towards the stairs they came from. She gave them a bewildered look as they passed, before belatedly noticing the approaching guards, and running to join their escape.

Helsing and Sacred reached the top of the stairs, only to run straight into another five Night Guards. They turned and ran the other way yet again.

"Damn it!" Helsing roared.

The other three were still coming their way. Caught between two groups of guards, Sacred and Geraldine followed Helsing back into the office. But now they were truly trapped. The office was a dead end.

"Same exit as before?" Sacred gasped, still sweating.

"Are you insane?" said Helsing. "We can't harm Celestia's own Royal Guard. That would be tantamount to heresy."

"And illegal besides," Geraldine muttered.

The guards came to the open doors and poured into the office, moving around the outsides of the room until they had the three surrounded. Several more stayed in the doorway, blocking their only exit. Helsing and company drew crossbows and aimed them at the guards, and some pointed crossbows of their own back. The hunters were outnumbered, but somehow they'd come to a stalemate.

There was a tense silence as the two sides went completely still. The guards remained in their positions, eyes locked on the group. Helsing, Sacred, and Geraldine stood their ground in the centre of the office, switching their aim to a different guard every few seconds.

The silence was broken by a set of hoofsteps. The guards in the doorway moved aside as another pony in distinctive armour entered the office. He was like them, a grey stallion with leathery wings like those of a bat, and yellow, draconic eyes with slit pupils, but his unique armour clearly marked him as somepony of authority. It was a much lighter purple than the colour of the Night Guard's armour, and was trimmed with gold instead of silver. On its front, it bore a symbol of two crossed spears over a disembodied heart, likely his cutie mark.

Helsing couldn't remember any other Royal Guard with armour like that. Even his uncle, a lieutenant, dressed no differently than his subordinates. This stallion could only be the Captain of the Royal Guard himself.

The Captain removed his helmet, letting a long blue mane cascade over his back. He paced slowly around the outside of the office, smiling slyly as he looked over the carnage.

"Well... this is certainly an impressive display," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I love what you kids have done with my office. Very avant-garde."

He turned to the three of them, grinning just widely enough to reveal a tiny set of fangs.

Helsing scowled. Although prejudice was a sin, it was hard for him to not resent this stallion's kind. The thestrals, as they were called, were chimeras formed of a bat and a pony, and they were far too close to vampires for his liking. Many of them were vampires, in fact. And though there were some who served Celestia loyally in her Night Guard, it was hard to forget that a great many of them had sided with the Traitor two hundred years ago.

"Sorry about the mess," Helsing said dryly.

"Oh, don't be," the Captain replied. "It's all too easy in Canterlot to forget the debt we owe to the Hunters Guild, but I will always remember it. These monsters probably had no idea what hit them. You have my thanks tonight for the lives you've saved."

"...Thank you as well," said Geraldine, blinking.

"Unfortunately, you're also all under arrest."

Without warning, Helsing ran up behind Geraldine and wrapped his hooves around her neck. He pulled her backwards and floated his crossbow right next to her head.

"Back off or she dies!"

"Oh, you absolute fucking bastard!" Geraldine shouted.

"Sweet Celestia, what do you think you're doing?" Sacred screamed.

"Not going to prison," Helsing answered, ignoring Geraldine's strange turn of phrase. "That's what."

The guards tensed. Those with ranged weapons all aimed for Helsing, forgetting Sacred completely, and any sense of mirth that the Captain had been feeling was replaced by a stern look.

"Put the weapon down, son," he said, fiercely. "You do not want to make this situation any worse for yourself."

"I'll put it down when you move aside and let us leave."

"I'm saying this once. Drop the weapon right now, and I'll forgive your momentary stupidity. Resist me more, and I will send you to a dungeon so deep that you'll forget what light is."

Helsing's eyes darted over to Sacred, who remained completely still.

"Duly noted. Now get out of my way."

The Captain glared at him for a while, but eventually conceded. With a flick of his wing, he ordered the rest of his guards back, clearing the doorway. Helsing, dragging Geraldine along with him, backed out through the door. Sacred, swallowing, followed after him, still pointing his crossbow at the guards on Helsing's sides.

"Just to be clear," Sacred said to the Captain, "none of this was my idea."

The Night Guards still tried to surround Helsing as he went back along the corridor, but he warded them off with his dagger as he edged past them. The Captain came out of the office, keeping his eyes on them.

"You're making a mistake, you two."

"Are we?" said Helsing. "Time to make a bigger one, then."

He shoved Geraldine forward into the guardsponies. She squawked and flapped her wings, and the scene devolved into chaos as the crowd of guards all knocked each other over like a line of dominos.

"Run!"

Helsing and Sacred rushed off down the corridor, making a beeline for the door leading to the battlements. It wasn't long before they burst out into the cold night air, their view suddenly lit by the distant glow of the Fire of Friendship. Given no other obvious route down, Helsing leapt over the side of the battlements, landing on the snowy ground below with a pained grunt. Sacred soon followed him, and they galloped off over the palace grounds.

"You idiot!" Sacred shouted. "What have you done? We are in so much trouble!"

"Please, shut up. I know the circumstances aren't ideal, but I'm working on a plan."

"What plan? What can you do? I don't have an overcoat like yours, Helsing! They saw my cutie mark! Even if we escape them now, they'll find us! And when Uncle True finds out, we're dead! It's over!"

"I said shut up!" Helsing thundered. "I'll work something out!"

They heard the beating of wings behind them before they saw him. The black-clad griffon swooped down and landed in front of them, his eyes afire.

"You killed them!" he snarled, lunging at Helsing and knocking him down. "All of them! I'm going to tear out your bastard heart!"

He clawed at Helsing with his talons, ripping open his overcoat, but the vampire recoiled at the sting of the blessed dagger as it cut across his throat. Blood spilled over Helsing, and he grunted in exasperation as he drew a stake from his pocket and shoved it into his attacker's chest. The vampire fell limp, and Sacred grabbed him and threw his lifeless body aside. He gave Helsing his hoof and helped him up.

"Damn it," Helsing muttered. "Forgot there were more of them."

As soon as he was back on his hooves, Helsing was tackled from behind. It wasn't vampires this time. The Night Guards, having finally caught up, swooped down on the two of them. Sacred was quickly overwhelmed and pinned as well. Helsing tried to resist, both with magic and with his hooves, but the guardspony on top of him beat him until he stopped.

Battered, bloody, and reeling from the pain, Helsing couldn't do much as they hauled him up and fitted a ring around his horn.

"Urgh... that all you got?"

One of them spat in his face. The others laughed. Helsing endured it, saying nothing as the guards waited for their captain. He soon appeared, smiling with a smugness that made Helsing's blood boil.

"That was a stupid move, boy. You have only yourself to blame for this. Why couldn't you have been a good colt, and saved us all this drama?"

Helsing remained silent.

"Hmph." The Captain waved a wing dismissively. "Have it your way, then. Lock him up in the bottom level. The orange one can go in with the griffon."

"Wait," said Helsing, just as the guards started to move. "I want to make a deal."

The guards went still, waiting for the Captain's orders. He came closer to Helsing, standing face to face with him, grinning in that insufferable way.

"What kind of deal?"

"A trade. Me and my brother's freedom, for the identity of that serial killer you seem to be having such trouble with."

The Captain's grin widened.

"Go on..."

They took them to the dungeons anyway, but only temporarily, shoving Helsing and Sacred into a cell opposite Geraldine. Torches still burned along the walls, and a thestral Night Guard patrolled outside, occasionally passing them by. The Captain had left them with a promise.

"I'd be stupid not to verify your information first. But don't worry. As soon as I return with Mister Ripper, I'll let you go, as agreed."

Until then, they were left to stew in their cell. They had their agreement in writing, so Helsing wasn't afraid of staying here, but the wait was agonising. They'd taken his overcoat and all his hunter tools, and he felt exposed without them. Minutes seemed like hours as he paced back and forth, while Sacred just sat in the corner with his head in his hooves. Opposite their cell, Geraldine glowered at them from hers.

"So then," she said venomously. "Helsing, is it? Do you mind explaining yourself?"

"Not particularly."

"I heard you coming in here, talking about some kind of deal with that stallion. What is it? What do you have?"

"An agreement to see to our release. Not that it's particularly relevant to you."

Her eyes widened.

"Seriously? After all this, you get to go free?"

"Me and my brother, aye. We had the name of that mystery killer you were hunting to trade. I squeezed it out of that bitch sister of yours before I ended her."

Geraldine shook her head. "You are one cold bastard, Van Helsing."

"So I'm told."

"And what about me?"

Helsing stopped pacing, and arched an eyebrow at Geraldine. "What about you?"

"You're just done with me, are you? You kill my family, let my comrades die, put a crossbow to my head, and then just... leave me to rot here in your place?"

Helsing shrugged. "Pretty much."

Geraldine slammed against the bars of her cell.

"Cut me in on your deal! You owe me after everything you've done!"

Helsing smirked, walking up to the bars of his own cell.

"And why, pray tell, would I ever do that? I'm not seeing any incentive here for me."

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"Ha! Try again."

Geraldine smoldered. "Because I'm a hunter, like you, and I'm in need."

"I don't work with amateurs."

She growled in frustration.

"Are you really this selfish, or do you just have a problem with me in particular?"

"I don't give a single iota of a shit about you. It's as simple as that. You aren't kin, so why should I care? I learned a long time ago that pointless sentiment gets you nowhere in life. Stick your neck out for others, and you get your head chopped off. If you want to convince me to take that risk for your sake, you need to offer me something better."

"What, then? Money?"

"I have money."

"A job with my company?"

"Your comrades dropped like flies back there. No thank you."

"I'd owe you a favour!"

"Unless it's sexual favours, I'm not interested."

Geraldine groaned. "Well what else do you want from me?"

"I don't know, really. I'm not even certain about the sexual favours anymore, now that I've thought on it for a second. The idea of that beak near my sensitive areas inspires far more fear in me than your skills as a hunter ever could."

"Wow," said Sacred, looking up from the floor at last. "Thank you for that mental image."

"Okay, screw you too, pony! Don't help me then! But you'd better hope we never see each other again after this, because you'll be sorry if we do!"

Geraldine returned to the corner of her cell and sulked. Sacred gave Helsing a slightly disapproving look.

"Come on, brother. There's no risk in just asking."

Helsing chewed his lip, looking back to Geraldine with a casual disinterest. A hopeful light flashed in her eyes as he considered her.

"Eh... okay," Helsing said at last. "Fine. I'll settle for the favour thing. Not that I can think of any particular use for you, but if I ever do, I'll expect your compliance."

Geraldine smiled weakly. "You won't regret it."

It was hours until Helsing and Sacred were finally let out of their cells. Although they couldn't convince their escort to release Geraldine too, Sacred shouted to her as they left that they would talk with the Captain.

The guard brought them up to the office where they'd killed all the vampires before. It was looking much neater now that all the bodies were gone. The blood-soaked rug had been removed, and the whole office had apparently been given a thorough scrubbing. The Captain smiled at them as he sat behind his desk, now back in its proper place. Meanwhile, standing at the back of the room just behind him, red in the face and eyes fixed on them with a furious intensity, was Uncle True Shot.

"Ah, damn it," Helsing muttered.

"Oh come now," said the Captain. "You must've expected this from the moment you told me your names. I've been hearing all day about Lieutenant True Shot's nephew. Sacred Fire, I dare say you should've known that you would be recognised, even if we didn't catch you. And you, young Helsing... Did you expect to get away with all this just because your uncle's a guard?"

"Shut up," Helsing growled.

"Don't talk to ya elders like that!" True Shot thundered. "I don't care if yer grown! I've half a mind to cane yer hides for this! 'Specially you, Helsing."

Helsing looked away from his uncle.

The Captain cleared his throat. "Be that as it may... your nephews still effectively dispatched the vampire threat, and helped us solve a major case in the process. You two should know, it seems like Ripper is our stallion after all. Body parts matching the mystery killer's victims were found in his room, and he attacked the Apollo agents sent to arrest him. He has since been... dealt with accordingly. For your part in ending his reign of terror, I am willing to overlook the night's excitement... provided that neither of you show your faces in this castle again."

The Captain and True Shot gave Helsing an expectant look.

He sighed. "Fair enough."

"Um..." Sacred stammered. "Th-The griffon hunter downstairs... Geraldine. We want her released too."

The Captain smirked, leaning back in his chair.

"That wasn't part of the agreement we signed."

"W-Well yes, sir, but—"

"Helsing?" said the Captain. "Do you wish to make this amendment? After all, it was you who signed."

"...Sure."

He leaned forward again. "Oh, what the hay? Why not? Her charges aren't nearly as serious, in any case."

"Th-Thank you," said Sacred.

"Can I take these two home now, sir?" asked True Shot.

"Very well," the Captain replied, waving dismissively. "I'll see you again after the holidays, lieutenant."

True Shot walked over and grabbed Helsing and Sacred both by the scruffs of their necks, before throwing them towards the door.

"Get goin'."

"Oh, one last thing," the Captain called from his desk.

They stopped in the door. Helsing looked back at him.

"That cutie mark of yours... It's rather curious." He gestured to Helsing's flank, and his mark of the stake, hammer, and sun symbol in a blood splotch. "I was wondering what it represents."

"Hunting," Helsing answered, speaking softly. "Vampires, mostly."

"Is that so? A cutie mark in hunting vampires... I've never heard of such a thing."

Helsing shrugged.

"Wouldn't be a special talent if it wasn't unique."

"...How old were you when you got it?"

"Thirteen. Why?"

The Captain's smile seemed sadder somehow.

"That'll be all."

Snow fell as they walked down Mane Street, coating the roads and the sidewalks. Helsing, clad in his red overcoat once more, didn't pay it any mind. He held his head high, even as Uncle True berated them the whole way. Sacred was the opposite, keeping his head low to the ground and shivering in the cold.

"Stupid boy!" True Shot shouted. "What were ya thinkin'? It's bad enough yeh were there at all! But then ya jump straight to takin' hostages! That ain't right, Helsing."

"I was trapped in a bad situation, and did what I could to get out of it," Helsing replied in as even a tone as he could manage. "I was thinking on my hooves."

"You were thinkin' like a damn fool. That stunt coulda gotten yeh killed. Why didn't ya just surrender and make that deal of yers right away?"

"Because I was the one who found out Ripper's identity!" Helsing snarled. "He should have been my kill!"

True Shot stopped walking and turned around to poke Helsing in the chest with a hoof.

"That ain't a good reason, and yeh know it. What ya did tonight was crazy beyond reason. If the Cap'n hadn'ta thought yeh were just some stupid kid in over his head, those guards would've shot ya dead and not thought twice about it! Ya wanna know why yer gettin' outta this at all? It's 'cause yer such a fool that they pity ya for it!"

Helsing snorted.

"I did what I had to do. And that's what you always told me to do as well."

"Aye, do what ya have to. But ya didn't have to do that."

"Look, I got off free, didn't I? Leave me alone!"

His uncle's glare right then would've killed a lesser stallion.

"Ya disgraced yerself tonight. Both as a hunter, and as Hellfire's son. Don't ever let me hear of ya doin' anything like this again. If I do, I swear, I'll bury ya myself."

"...Fine."

Later that night, there was stern talking all around. From downstairs, Helsing could still hear the muffled sounds of conversation. The "adults" of the family were all deeply concerned about what had happened. Loyal Service wasn't involved, but even he had been ordered to stop serving Helsing for the night. It was deeply humiliating. He felt like a foal again, sent to his room without supper. Although, in this case, he and Sacred had voluntarily confined themselves to avoid all the drama.

The brothers lay back on their respective beds, Helsing on the top bunk and Sacred underneath. Angel stood by the doorway, leaning against the frame while she watched them.

"To be fair, you kinda deserved it," she said.

"Thank you, Angel," said Sacred. "We know."

"I mean, what did you expect? Bad enough you were actually going out to hunt vampires on Hearth's Warming, but then you try and mess with the Royal Guard?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Helsing shouted, sitting up. "They were going to arrest me!"

"Well, they arrested us anyway..."

"Not helping, Sacred!"

Angel walked to the centre of the room. "Don't try to blame him, Helsing! It's your fault for acting like a demented thug in front of the authorities! And you did all this, what, just because you wanted to?"

Helsing groaned and flopped back on the bed.

"I can't help it, Angel!" he shouted, "I. Get. Bored!"

"Oh, here we go again..." Sacred muttered.

"It's true, though! This place is boring! You're boring! Everypony is boring! I need a distraction! I need something to focus on! And vampires, they're like my drug. I don't encounter them nearly as often as I'd like. Even on the night of the hunt, I'm lucky if I come across more than two! And the Heartland is so bloody peaceful, I've only killed four in the entire time I've been here! But tonight... Twelve of them, Angel. We killed twelve. That's the most I've ever done in a single night! It was..."

He looked up at the ceiling, and sighed deeply.

"It was the best night of my life..."

Angel raised an eyebrow.

"Big brother, I think you need to see a therapist."

"Oh, shut up! Let me have my fun."

"No, I mean it. You really scare me, Helsing. I think something's wrong with you. You're sick. And that's not your fault, but you need to get better."

Helsing sat up.

"I'm not sick."

"Yes you are," Angel said firmly. "If this was just a job to you, that would be one thing. I could understand that. It's like you say, somepony has to do it. But dad wasn't like that, was he? He didn't enjoy the killing. Nor Uncle True, either. But you find this fun. That's not right, big brother."

Helsing scowled at her.

"I resent this idea that there must be something wrong with me just because I like my work. All ponies are passionate about their special talents, little sister. That's why we have them. Mine just so happens to be killing vampires, but it's not any different than how a chef enjoys cooking."

Angel gave him a sad look.

"It's not normal, Helsing. It's not healthy. I know you like to pretend it is, but I know it's not. And you know it as well. Why else would you always hide your cutie mark in public?"

Helsing blinked.

"I... That's not..."

"Just think about it, alright? Get some help. Talk to somepony. You'll feel better for it."

Angel opened the door and stepped out. "...Happy Hearth's Warming, big brother."

She shut it behind her, leaving both of her brothers alone. Sacred didn't say anything, and Helsing simply turned over on his bed and stared up at the ceiling again.

"Happy Hearth's Warming..." he mumbled.

Author's Notes:

Theme of chapter one:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JYKM1loxYo

Thanks again to Posh for his work on editing this chapter. Without him, I would be truly lost, though don't tell him I said that.

This chapter is interesting, because it's very much a carry-over from the original version of the story. Old readers might recognise most of the story beats of this one, but it's otherwise different in a lot of ways. For one, it's been significantly extended, with more character scenes and in-depth conversations, and more of a focus on how characters get from point A to point B than in the original, where scenes just kind of skipped around a lot.

It's also affected a lot by the wider changes. Character designs are different, the time period is different, and Helsing's backstory to this point is different. In the original version, his father was still alive at this point, and he was the one chewing Helsing out at the end instead of True Shot. That version also had flashback scenes interspersed in this chapter instead of having a prologue, and those scenes were pirate-flavoured rather than Bloodborne-inspired. So, yes, a lot has changed. But for the better, I like to think. Though, obviously, that's for the reader to judge.

Chapter two will be coming very soon. It's in the final phases already, would've been released alongside the prologue and first chapter, only I fell behind due to unforeseen factors. Expect it in a few days time.