Work Text:
Wide orange-brown eyes set in a young, pale face stared back at Gregory—his own reflection. His long, fluffy hair was a mess, not back in its usual ponytail. It draped his shoulders and nearly took over one of his cheeks with the messiness of early morning. Squinting, he opened his mouth and used a finger to pull back part of his upper lip. There it was, one of his sharp canines, almost glinting in the light of the house’s gas lamps. He hadn’t paid the sharper teeth mind before, even as they continued to look more fang-like throughout his childhood.
That is, until a few days ago…
“No,” he said, fists clenching. “Not a vampire. Tată hates vampire.” He glared and pointed aggressively at the mirror. “And I have a reflection. Also, I’m out in the sun all the time, and I don’t want to drink blood or anything. It’s all in my head.” A breath gusted out, and he leaned on the sink basin of the bathroom. “Then how did I do that?” He grasped it tighter, only to jerk back with a gasp at a flurry of sounds overhead. His eyes shot to the ceiling, tracing the wood, trying to discern what he’d heard. Skittering? Flapping perhaps? Were there mice in the house again?
He waited with bated breath for another sound to come. Nothing did, and he slumped forward, huffing. “This is foolish.” Snatching his nearby hairbrush, he used the mirror while he tamed his explosion of hair, rather than doing some bizarre “vampire check”.
“As if!” He tossed aside the brush. It clattered to the floorboards, but he ignored it, now struggling to tie a ponytail. Vanessa was much better at it; she always had her much longer hair back in a high bun. Or, when she wasn’t going out and rather relaxed at home, a ponytail of course.
After much too long of struggling and grunting in annoyance, a knock interrupted Gregory’s strife.
“Gregory?” As if summoned, Vanessa’s voice came through. “I need the powder room. Are you almost done, or are you still bent on being a slowpoke?”
He growled and flung open the door. “I’m doing my hair!”
Green eyes fell to the ribbon hanging from his hand, and Vanessa gave a laugh. “Need help then? I’m the one running errands today. Need a bath before I go, and you’re hogging the-”
“Alright, alright.” He shoved the ribbon into her palm, then spun his back to her. After retrieving another brush, she set to work taming the last of the tangles, and then carefully tying it all back. As she did, Gregory let his eyes roam the small powder room, now and then stilling on the ceiling.
“Nessie?”
“Yes?”
“Did you hear any strange noises?”
“Define noises.” She hummed, tying the ponytail into place.
He changed subject briefly to snap, “You better not be giving me a bow again!” The ponytail was promptly undone, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Anyways, coming from the ceiling or attic. It kind of startled me, because I was just thinking about…” His attention stilled on his reflection staring back at him, accompanied by the working hands of his adoptive sister. He tore it away. “I don’t know, I was thinking about vampires and stuff. Sort of startled me.” Especially since it sounded like flapping…vampires turned into bats, or at least bat-like creatures.
“Oh, yes, because a vampire would definitely be randomly in our attic.” She finished up his hair, and he turned as she gave part of his bangs a playful tug. “Probably just a mouse. We can tell Freddy or Father about it later, hm?” She grasped his shoulders to steer him past her and out the door. “Also could have been a bird passing through. There’s a lot of gaps between the walls up there.”
“Right, right.” He sighed and sent her a wave. “It’s nothing, I understand.” He lifted a foot to hasten for his bedroom, only to freeze as a gentle tug pulled on his new ponytail. Grumping, he scowled over his shoulder.
Vanessa simply smiled, folding her arms. “Now what do you say to your lovely sister who just did your hair for you?”
“I hope the bird in the attic kills you.” His glare flashed into a smirk. A raised brow prompted him to sigh and mumble out, “Thank you.” Truthfully, though, he was fighting a tiny smile.
Content, she nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Gregory to rush off. Into his bedroom he went, grumbling as he pulled out the necessary clothes for the day. Much too uncomfortable for his taste, but at least he likely wasn’t going out. As he pulled a vest over his white shirt, he threw a glance at the ceiling. No more noises. Perhaps it truly had been nothing; just something passing through, or his own mind playing tricks on him. He would rather have a little mystery to solve though…anything but harboring those suspicions about himself. All it took was one incident, one mind numbing moment for him to begin questioning his very existence.
“Stupid.” With an aggressive shake of his head, Gregory stormed out for the breakfast Freddy currently prepared. “Just stupid. What am I even thinking?”
For the rest of the day, Gregory managed to brush off all thoughts of vampires or eerie attic noises. He ended up accompanying Vanessa on her errands, alongside his nanny, Freddy. It distracted him, and once they got home, they read each other stories and played a couple games. Often, they spent their days like this, whenever Cassidy wasn’t home. Gregory missed his dad whenever he left; right now, Cassidy was out on one of his longer monster hunts, all the way in Paris. It worried the boy, but this and everything else could be brushed aside in the company of his present odd but wonderful little family.
That night, however, as he was on the cusp of sleep, a sudden sound roused him from drifting—skittering and flapping, at first hard to distinguish. His eyes groggily blinked open, and for a split second, he wondered if something unseen was darting around his room or the walls. Upon sitting upright, he could discern the noises better. They came from above, just like that morning. Scraping and other strange sounds. Again, like flapping.
Jaw tightening, Gregory pulled his blankets up to his face, eyes locked on the ceiling. The bedroom was lit by nothing but rays of moonlight shafting through thin curtains, now stabbing through eerie shadows. Of course, he saw nothing. Whatever made such dreadful sounds remained in the attic.
With a huff, he flopped to his back. The noises stilled, and he shut his eyes, only to pop them back open when the racket began again. At this point, he knew.
It had to be bats.
He bit his lip, sharp canine stinging against the skin. Bats were connected to vampires. Could it be…
No, of course not. But, at least in his head, maybe he could pretend they were vampires and hunt them just like his awesome dad did. Nodding firmly, he flipped onto his side to try sleeping through the ruckus overhead. Tomorrow, he would have his own little monster hunt catching much tinier, more harmless vampires of his own. He would need to be sneaky about it, lest Freddy or Vanessa stop him, but all the same…he was determined.
“Time to catch some vampires tomorrow,” he said through a sleepy grin. Drowsily, once again drifting, he mumbled, “Because I am not one of them…”
**********
Late the next afternoon, while Vanessa was busy with schoolwork and Freddy out running more errands, Gregory crept down the hallway. Floorboards creaked with each step, but not one alerted the studying teen of anything amiss or suspicious. Just how Gregory wanted it to be.
With a net grasped close, he slipped into the bedroom of his adoptive father. “Every good monster hunter needs a good, epic outfit,” he murmured as he eased open Cassidy’s wardrobe. What greeted him were rows of typical dark clothing, mainly button-up shirts, pants, and vests, of which he had many. After rooting around, Gregory found what he was looking for: Cassidy’s long, black trench coats. It was what the monster hunter wore every time he went out, and he had several, lest one become lost, damaged, or destroyed during battle.
Giggling deviously, he pulled out his prize and shut the wardrobe with a kick. The sound of wood slamming wood cracked the air, and he jumped. His eyes flew to the partly open door, and ears pricked to hear if Vanessa called out or came searching for whatever caused the sound. However, after a moment, he determined himself to be in the clear, and thus, returned to his mission.
Struggling some, he slid his arms into the sleeves and shifted the coat to fit as well as it could. He went to the nearby standing mirror and adjusted it more, examining himself. However, seeing as he was on the small side for a young boy (and this was very much a man’s coat), he was swimming in it…to say the least. The sleeves dangled, and the coat dragged along the ground far too much. Every inch of it drooped and sagged or consumed his figure, but despite it all, he flashed a grin. It wasn’t the first time he had swiped the coat and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Particularly when he had his own “monster” hunts to do.
He rubbed his hands together, then retrieved the net from where he’d left it beside the wardrobe. Head held high, he marched out and back down the hall. Raising his eyes, he couldn’t help but sigh. A great oversight had been made. High over his head dangled the thread of the attic door. If he pulled it, the stairs would unfold and come down. But with his height? He might as well kiss entering the attic himself goodbye.
“No,” he mumbled, gripping the wooden handle of his net hard. “Tată never gives up on his missions. So I won’t either.” Already calculating a plan, he hurried to his bedroom. There, he easily found one of his step stools, plus a stack of books. With much strife, he carried them all out to the corridor. First, he set the stool beneath the attic door. Once he tested the height, proving he still could not reach the string, he stepped back down and grabbed the pile of novels.
“I can’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces,” he said as he shifted them to be just right for standing, “when I come them with a proper bat—or even many bats—caught.” He giggled. “Oh, I mean, vampires.”
With his own makeshift ladder in place, carefully he climbed on. The books wobbled, and he stuck his arms out as a thrill of nerves jumped around his clenching stomach. Everything swayed unsteadily beneath his feet. Shaking his head furiously, he focused on the task at hand—reaching the attic door. With jaw set and eyes narrowed, he reached up and wiggled his fingers desperately. Every muscle strained, and he straightened and nearly stood on tip toes, fingertips inches from the string of the attic door.
“Please…please…” he said through his teeth, followed by a triumphant, “A-ha!” He seized the string and gave it a good pull. Down came the stairs, unfolding and stretching…straight for him. Yelping, he threw himself back and landed straight on his backside. He cringed in pain, then squeaked as the end of the steps thudded in front of him, narrowly missing his feet.
“Gregory?” A muffled call came from Vanessa’s nearby bedroom. “What was that?”
Gregory blinked, adjusting to the English. “Up, I mean…the…mm…” He shook his head and gave up. “Just the attic! I’m…putting some stuff up there for storage. Freddy has told me I could before.” Which was true. The first part, however, was not of course.
“Well alright!” she called back. “Next time, ask for help!”
“You would get all grumpy if I interrupted your schoolwork,” he grumbled, rising and brushing himself off. He never had any intention of asking, but even still, he had to bite the comment back from being called directly to her.
Hurriedly, he returned the stool and books to his room, then grabbed his net and faced the attic stairs. “Alright,” he breathed, adjusting part of the roomy coat. Afraid it may trip or mess him up, he began the climb. Step after step after, foot over foot, he safely made it into the cramped, dusty attic. The roof slanted overhead, lined with occasional cobwebs. Many of the rough, wood boards of the walls and the ceiling had gaps and breaks, just as Vanessa had said. Nothing of note was stored up there, minus some chests of old clothes and mementos, tucked away in corners and covered in coats of dust.
Screwing up his face, he hummed and entered fully. Up here, the floor creaked and groaned even louder, but he didn’t pay it any mind. His eyes searched the shadows, thick and broken by rays that slipped through the aged wood over his head.
“Where are you?” he mumbled. “Please tell me you didn’t leave. I’m so ready to catch you, you silly bats! I mean…vampires.” He cringed. A proper monster hunter would not call his prey silly. Being adopted by one, Gregory was a Van Helsing, a family known for the most skilled monster hunting in all of Romania and the surrounding countries.
Throwing his shoulders back, he announced through the attic, “Come out, foul beasts! You are no match for me!” No response. He snuck farther in. “I said come out! And meet your maker! Tis I, Gregory Van Hel-” He broke off into a high-pitched scream at a sudden eruption of flapping and squeaking. He ducked, the very creatures he’d been hunting swooping all around him, having emerged from a far corner. Squealing and waving the net around blindly, he dashed back and forth in a panic. The bats flew and zipped all around; he kept swinging, and only once did it brush something, resulting in an increase of his panicked noises.
And that was when he felt it—the thump of something furry and warm hitting part of his head. The net clattered to the floor, and he dropped beside it, screaming and covering his hair. He had heard rumors before, of bats getting caught and tangled in hair. They were so much louder, faster, and…“flappier” than he anticipated. Caught in the fluffy hair he’d tried so hard to grow out like his father’s? Never in a million years!
The terrible squeaking and flurries of flaps continued for what felt like ages, though was mere moments. Through the chaos, he caught the sound of footsteps thumping against wood, growing closer as someone (or perhaps more than one someone?) climbed the stairs. Teeth gritting, he touched around the floor, till his fingers curled victoriously around the net’s handle. Then, as he sat up, he hurled it around himself to keep back any swooping bats. The critters darted to and fro through the air, blurring shapes of thrumming wings and fuzzy black forms. Through them, Gregory spotted two people poking their heads into the attic, the one at the top being Vanessa and farther down, Cassidy.
“Nessie! Tată!” Gregory stumbled up and raced toward them. Another bat divebombed him unintentionally, and he squealed, squeezing his eyes shut and waving the net harder. Feet soon met air, and the high, long sound turned into another ear-splitting scream. It only lasted a moment, for quickly two hands grabbed his waist.
“Careful,” Cassidy said through a grunt. Gregory cracked his eyes open, watching as he was carefully pulled from the attic. His tată held him with one arm, pressed to the side of his waist, where the boy’s legs automatically wrapped around. Struggling to keep him steady, Cassidy climbed back down, and Vanessa followed with a squeak of alarm as a bat the nearly brushed her head.
The moment his feet touched the floor, Gregory squirmed to be released. After being set down, he shuffled back and giggled, the sounds riddled with nerves and sheepishness. Cassidy turned his chin up, arms folding. However, the corner of his lips turned up in an amused smirk. “What were you doing up there with all those bats?”
“Mm-”
“And in my coat?”
“And making a racket while I’m studying.” Vanessa scoffed, though her lips twitched against a smile.
“I…I was just…” Gregory fidgeted with the net, wringing his hands around it. “I heard bats, so I wanted to catch them. Sort of…pretend they’re vampires…and I’m their…hunter.” His face burned with each word, and he ducked his head. As expected, light laughter came from Vanessa, though she stopped when Cassidy flapped a hand at her.
“Well,” he said, crouching in front of Gregory to catch his gaze, “let’s leave the hunting and catching to me, hm? Though I have to say…this was entertaining to come back to.”
Relaxing, Gregory rolled his eyes, then cracked a hint of a smile. “Well, uh, welcome back, Tată.”
“Mhm.” Cassidy mussed up Gregory’s hair, then straightened. Both he and Vanessa glanced up the stairs, where the sounds of bats was calming, but still present. “Dealt with monsters; now I have a bat infestation to take care of.”
“No, no.” Gregory lifted a finger. “They’re vampires.”
Cassidy’s face tightened, and Gregory almost took back the words, remembering how much the monster hunter despised them. However, Cassidy whisked the tense expression away. “No vampires here, silly.” He tapped Gregory’s noise, which scrunched in response.
“Right,” he said through a fading giggle. His eyes dropped to the floor, and the net lowered as he remembered why his mind had been on that subject in the first place. The tip of his tongue grazed one of his sharp teeth. “No vampires here.”
“Maybe Freddy can take care of the bats,” said Vanessa, patting Cassidy on the back, thus drawing his attention from Gregory. “He’s much bigger than any of us; he can block them from getting out.”
“Yes, but if he has to…dispose of them, shall we say, he doesn’t have the heart,” Cassidy replied.
“Dispose of? You mean kill?” Gregory jumped. “No!” Both pairs of eyes turned to him.
Vanessa bit her lip, glancing back up the stairs, where lingering squeaks emanated. “I mean…they’re sort of cute.”
Cassidy’s blue eyes narrowed. “If you’re trying to imply keeping bats as pets, it’s an immediate no. They’re varmint and could carry diseases.”
“At least let us set them free?” Gregory dropped the net to clasp his hands, trying to muster the biggest puppy dog eyes he could. It typically only worked on Freddy, but Cassidy had a softer spot than he’d like to admit.
He narrowed his eyes further, only to let his breath out in a sigh. “Alright fine. But later. I need to rest first.”
“Yes! Yes, plenty of rest!” Gregory scurried behind him to gently push and urge him towards his bedroom. “You were gone for long that time! You need rest!”
“Lots,” Vanessa added, joining Cassidy’s side and taking his arm.
“I know, kids, I know,” he said through an exasperated scoff. “It’s as if you don’t trust me to care for myself.”
The two siblings exchanged a knowing look, and in unison, said, “That is exactly it.”
“How assuring.” Cassidy’s voice went flat. He came to a stop in the doorway, turning to his children. “Now then, I’m going to relax a bit, and then I will get around to the bat issue. No more sneaking off to try and catch pests yourself, alright?” He tugged one of Gregory’s bangs softly.
He blew it back out of his face. “Yes, Tată! But…”
“But what?” Vanessa raised a brow, squinting.
“Can I help you?” he asked, scurrying closer to Cassidy. “We can be proper bat hunters- I mean catchers together.”
“Are you going to scream and run around again?” she said with a teasing nudge to his side, earning a glare.
“I was about to say the same thing,” Cassidy said, smiling faintly and shaking his head. “I’ll think about it. For now, Vanessa, can you go close the attic for me? And, Gregory, I need my coat.”
“Alright.” She headed off, while he grumbled and slid the large coat off. He handed it off into Cassidy’s waiting hand.
“Thank you.” He draped it over his arm, then gave Gregory a final fond look. “I don’t know why I didn’t expect to come home to your chaos.”
He huffed and sent back a tiny smile. “That’s foolish. I am chaos.”
“Indeed you are.” Cassidy chuckled, then shut the door.
Gregory gazed at it, then biting his bottom lip, hastened to Vanessa who had just finished closing the attic. “Nessie?”
“Hm?” She faced him.
Fingers fidgeting together, he looked down and back up. “Did you see what I did?”
“What, with the bats?” She snickered.
“Well…no…I meant that thing I did a few days ago,” he said.
A frown flickered across her lips. “What do you mean?”
His heart sank, and he took a deeper breath. “Never mind. It was…nothing, just wondering.” Hastily, he brushed past her and went for his bedroom. He could feel her curious eyes on him, but he ignored it, shutting the door. An exhale gusted out, and he shook his head.
“Was it truly my imagination then?” he mumbled, plodding towards the hand mirror he kept amongst his jumble of other items. When he forced a grin at his reflection, there they were again. Those fang-like teeth. Several days earlier, when he and Vanessa had been roaming the forest, something disastrous had happened. Typically, the woods were safe at midday, but that time had not been the case. They got nearly ambushed by one of the many gruesome threats in Transylvania, this time a cat-like beast. It hadn’t gone after Gregory but made a beeline for Vanessa. It was etched in his memory. The sight…the terror it brought…the thought that he might have to watch his dear sister die before his eyes…
“But then I moved,” he mumbled, sinking to the floor and staring into that mirror harder, “faster than ever; faster than people should be able to. And…and I sort of saved her.” He remembered it all too well—the rush of air, followed by him briefly hanging upside down from a nearby tree he’d leapt at. And then, in another blur, reaching Vanessa’s side and grabbing her hand. Then, together, they had rushed away and back into the village. She must not have seen Gregory’s actions before he got to her. Humans didn’t move like that. All he knew was that vampires were one of the only beings capable of such swift movements, particularly related to defying gravity.
Such as being upside down on a tree…
Shaking his head harder, he slammed the mirror down. “No,” he said. “It’s impossible. That was nothing.” Still, the thought nagged, eating away at both his mind and churning stomach. He gripped his hair. “Distraction. Need another distraction.”
His thoughts lingered on those bats, and he inhaled. Back to the same distraction. It worked last time; it could work again.
Part of Cassidy’s words earlier ran through his head, and Gregory grinned sharply. “I will prove myself and catch at least one all by myself,” he said, hopping up. “Time to get a pet bat!” He retrieved the stool and books he’d used, then burst into the hall with a string of quiet, mischievous giggles. Stepstool in place, stairs pulled down, and net clasped tightly, he set back up into the attic, with the intent of getting himself a pet bat (if he was allowed to keep it or not was another story.)
And just like that, on his second bat catch attempt (foiled earlier this time by a grouchy Cassidy), Gregory had earned himself a week of extra chores.