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*A world of chaos had been created around the beast hunter, and within said chaos, Van Helsing emerged from the rubble that he had been thrown into, shaking his head, a little bit dazed. He could vaguely remember being thrown off of the roof by the monstrous creature, Dracula, who had a form much like his brides, only it was much larger, much more muscular, and somehow both hideous and attractive. He was panting, and he shook his head, trying his best to clear away the dizziness that had begun to settle onto his mind, his once dry clothing becoming soaked with rainwater that was raining down. *

Van Helsing looked up, his eyes falling upon the hole that was in the open ceiling of the fortress, his mind beginning to register the change in the weather above, and he just looked up into the water that was hitting his face. He began to search for the Count, ignoring the burning creatures all around him - the Dwergi, small dwarf monsters and Dracula's minions, and whom were running around, their flesh stripped to cinders by the flames that engulfed them. And then he heard it, the faint beating of wings, a sound that alerted him that something was behind, and he whipped around to the Count's hellish form, his eyes widening in shock at the sight.

'So that is what he looks like,' Van Helsing thought, and he could see that compared to the Brides, who were lighter in color, slim, and had an almost perfect figure, the form of the Count was quite different. It definitely cemented his title as the ruler of his species, his muscular broad shoulders and a well-formed physique, as well as the fact that he was well over eight feet tall in this form meant that he would be no pushover. Even his claws were, by no means, dull, in fact, were incredibly large, and easily sharp enough to flat the flesh off and harm anyone who would even dare to challenge him or to attack him.

The Count even had a large set of bat-like wings that adorned his back, large enough to lift his own weight, and possible others, making the beast of a man looking like he was some sort of grotesque butterfly. And then there were his arms and abdomen, which, in comparison to the rest of the vampire's body, were surprisingly beautiful in contrast, holding a well defined shape that held Van Helsing's gaze for longer than it should have. He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the beast of a man that was beginning to bear down upon him, making it clear that he had every intention of killing him, a situation the beast hunter had been in multiple times before.

'Alright, the plan is that when the bell tolls midnight, you will be able to kill Dracula,' Van Helsing thought, remembering the conversation that he had had with the Friar earlier, discussing ways to beat the Count. The only problem was that they needed to find a cure for his being a werewolf before the final stroke of the bell, which meant that they had only a minute to beat Dracula and save Van Helsing from a cruel and twisted fate. Sure, he had some doubts about the plan, considering that he had seen what a werewolf looked like, but seeing the other, he had to wonder if there was any way that he would stand a chance.

Van Helsing figures that he was there, he was waiting for midnight to come, and he was about to engage in one final battle with the Count, and only one of them would come out alive in the end. A fight with the man who holds all of his memories, the one who made claims that he knew the beast hunter, who swore he knew about the man's past, everything that he had forgotten. He could feel a faint sense of sadness, despair even, as if he was betraying someone that he held dear, but he forced himself to ignore this as the Count spoke of his children, how they were too full of life to be killed by destroying the machine,

"Then the only way to kill them is to kill you," Van Helsing said, raising his hand and pointing a finger directly at the confident figure of Dracula, retreating backwards as his foe advanced as if he were cornering his prey. "Correct," the Count confidently declared, clearly sure that he was victorious, clearly full of himself as he incorrectly assumed that his foes had no way of being able to know what his weakness could be. Because he had managed to silence the man who knew what could kill him, Velkan, to prevent him from telling his sister, Anna, and he had complete confidence in the fact that he was no longer a part of the living.

This brought the Count nothing but joy, the idea of finally having the beast hunter, Gabriel Van Helsing, whom had been his lover, whom had become his enemy, but throughout it all, was still his soulmate. The beast hunter had been unaware of the fact that in his retreat from the man before him, he had managed to out the large clock behind him and he heard as it began to toll, indicating that midnight had arrived.

"Then so be it," Van Helsing snarled, and his confidence began to return as he stood up straight, welcoming the surge of power, a power that would allow him to face the demon and slay him, saving the land that he had been terrorizing. He began to count down, crying out the first number as he fell to his knees, beginning to roar in pain as the transformation began, reaching up to grasp at his tattered clothing and tearing it away. This alone revealed a powerful and tantalizing physique that could make any woman or man stare in awe, or even to try and bed the beast hunter, though very few had been successful enough to tame him.

"No... this cannot be," Dracula spat out, though he couldn't stop himself from noticing how ripped his soulmate was still, staring at the beauty that Gabriel was, and reveling in the beauty that he was becoming. Yes, he knew that if he could have him like this, then it would all be better, to have him to himself, and under his control, making the Count even more unstoppable than he was right now. He watched as the skin began to tear away from Van Helsing, luscious, dark fur erupting from said tears as his muscles grew, replacing the human features as the beast began to emerge.

Weak nails gave way to darker, dagger-like claws, claws that were meant for tearing and gripping its prey, and he became larger, more powerful, more muscular, and somehow, more beautiful, at least in Dracula's eyes. He reveled in what kind of werewolf his lover had become, one that he himself had never seen before, one that was more powerful than any of the beasts that he had enslaved and controlled before. This sight made the vampire laugh a bit in amazement, momentarily at a loss for words as he admired the body of his lover, of what he had become, wondering what he would need to do to tame this beast.

"Oh beautiful, Gabriel, my foe, you have come to me in this form, not only to be controlled, but to be mine, and we can now rekindle our flame and be together once more," Dracula exclaimed, his happiness dissipating as he realized his lover's intent. Then came the roar from the beastmaster turned beast, a roar that could shake the entire room that the two of them stood in, a roar of a challenge, an intent to fight, an intent to slay the vampire, to end him once and for all. But the Count would not allow himself to be pushed over so easily, being a warrior, the Impaler, and the lord of his kind, and he happily accepted the challenge, releasing a roar of his own as he became the hell-beast, screeching back at his foe.

Dracula took flight, throwing himself at Gabriel, and despite the fact that he was his lover, he knew that he would not hesitate to show him pain, because it would have been a dishonor to hold back... he would not disrespect his soulmate like that. The two creatures collided with each other in the air, such power making it a worth battle, though Van Helsing managed to overpower the Count, slamming him into one of the massive glass tubes filled with some sort of acidic chemicals. In turn, an explosion occurred behind the wings of the Count, a groan of pain escaping from his fanged maw, but he ignored the pain immediately, not wanting to allow himself to become overwhelmed, and he raised his arm for a counter-attack.

Bringing his arm down, Dracula clawed at Gabriel's face, blood spattering the ground to the side, soaking his claws in the liquid, and eliciting a whine of pain from the werewolf, who stumbled backwards immediately, even as the wound immediately began to heal. The Count took control of the battle with ease, reaching out to claw at his foe's face twice more, causing the werewolf to almost fall over from the attack and the pain, and, screeching in triumph, he took hold of the wolf's neck. He lifted the beast hunter into the air with ease, and the scuffle started again, the two trading blows, with the vampire emerging triumphant, the werewolf still clumsy in this new form, trying to grow accustomed to it.

The vampire was taking great pleasure from this as he continued to beat his lover, satisfying his need to get back at Gabriel for his betrayal, for killing him centuries ago, and fulfilling his hunger for the thrill of a good fight, something Dracula and his lover both enjoyed. He threw the werewolf, slamming his back into the machinery, and he screeched again as the werewolf let out a loud roar, although this time it was clearly one of pain, and he couldn't be sure if he hated or enjoyed that sound. He did not stop, however, kneeling onto his stomach and pinning him down before he had a chance to recover, and Gabriel could see the delight in the vampire's face, the curve of his lips, and the sight of those piercing eyes.

Van Helsing couldn't help but feel as if they had done this before... well, not exactly, but something similar, and he was awash with confused thoughts, the Count taking advantage of the werewolf's daze as he raised his arm to deliver another blow. It would be the final strike, and he let out another powerful roar, and if Dracula had to compare how he was feeling in this exact moment to anything else that he had felt within his lifetime, it would have to be similar to achieving the best climax. Well, it was that, because in his own perverse way, he adored the sight of seeing his lover in pain, pinned down, helpless under his touch, and he knew that, even if he didn't remember, that the beast hunter similarly enjoyed this feeling.

And Van Helsing did enjoy the feeling of pain, but for some reason, he found that it was only enjoyable when it was inflicted upon him by this man, by Dracula, but before he could think much on this, the vampire was retreating, leaving him confused. It was an invitation from the Count, an invitation to follow and resume their battle, and though the beast hunter was still hesitant, he followed with ease, launching himself from pillar to pillar before he went in for the attack. He found purchase upon his enemies back, digging in his claws, and after struggling for a few moments to dislodge his lover, the vampire found himself flying into a wall, slamming the werewolf against it over and over again.

*Van Helsing was groaning, but soon he found that it was not just of pain, but of pleasure as well, and Dracula relished the sounds before realizing that the sounds were something new, something that he hadn't quite expected to hear just yet. 'Was Gabriel finally remembering the nature of their relationship,' the Count thought, and hoped that maybe that he could give it back bit by bit, especially now that he noticed that the werewolf wasn't trying to fight back, almost as if he was letting the vampire win. And it was clear as the Count kept moving that when Gabriel wanted more, he moved to slam his head into the wall, eventually flipping them with a sort of ease, manipulating the flight path to slam the both of them into several pillars along the way. *

The vampire's piercing shriek continued to echo throughout the large room, actually managing to cause several icicles that were hanging from the ceiling to shatter and fall to the floor as his lover and soulmate actually managed to tear through one of his wings. It was painful, a hell of a lot more so because it had been caused by a werewolf, something that he knew probably wouldn't heal immediately like any wounds that was caused by a simple human, and this caused him to rethink his actions. Gabriel was manhandling him so much at the moment that they both ended up falling back to the ground, and Dracula was finding himself to be overwhelmed by Gabriel's claws, each blow taking a little bit more out of him, and he was barely able to throw any back himself.

*But he could see his lover's eyes, and he could see that there was more than enough for him to be happy, and, emerging triumphant, Van Helsing threw him across the room, his body falling heavily onto the rubble strewn floor beneath where he had impacted. Both fighters were battered and bruised, panting heavily, and the vampire was recuperating from his beating, ready for the moment that Gabriel lunged, and he called out his name, and for some reason this caused his lover to freeze, hesitating for a moment. And the killing blow did not come, his ears laying back, assessing the Count's wounded form, tracing a clawed finger running along his jaw, moving a strand of his hair off of his face, before finally releasing a howl, a beautiful yet sorrowful call before Dracula came to his side. *

*"Have you finally remembered, my Gabriel," he asked, caressing his lover's shoulder, running his fingers through his thick fur before the werewolf finally acknowledged him, moving his head to the side as if he was giving some sort of invitation. "I shall bring you back your life... your memory," the vampire whispered before sinking his fangs into the others neck, drinking that familiar tasting blood, albeit slightly different due to the nature of his new form, and he was only satisfied when he felt his wounds begin to heal. "We shall continue this now, and I am going to let you take the lead this time, Dracula said, already giving Gabriel control, feeling as his lover recover, the curse of being enslaved already losing its effect, and as the moon shone down brightly from the sky. *

*However they make love, it doesn't matter, and so long as they were the other's true nature, it was all that mattered to the Count that he had gotten his lover back, and he couldn't help but smile in delight and eagerness as he waited for the other to react. And then it was all a blur once again, black and white rolling against the rubble strewn ground with a sort of intense animosity, shrieks and roars mixing, making it seem more like some sort of demonic orchestra was playing in the background. Claws found purchase on fur and skin, the two beasts holding and striking each other with both lust and hate, each attempting to assert their dominance over their partner, and for the longest time it wasn't clear who was going to succeed, and who was going to lose. *

*The werewolf, Gabriel, for he had accepted the new identity that he had been given by the Count, and he took ahold of the other's hair, pulling it back before slamming him against the ground once again, face first, the cold stone connecting with the cold flesh. He attempted to rub himself against the vampire's ass, red flesh of his own member beginning to surface from its sheath, and he was already aiming to plunge it into the warm confines of his lover, to take the vampire for the first time in years. The very first words that Dracula had said earlier were practically made moot, and though he is of course going to let Dracula take the lead, he certainly wasn't just going to make it easier for his soulmate by just laying down and taking every inch of that wolfish cock. *

*He believed that submission was something that he was completely incapable of, and as both the vampire and the werewolf had been going at it for almost an hour now, with the werewolf trying constantly to pin the vampire down and to simply just plunge in, only for his quarry to break free. Roaring in triumph at the inevitable, Gabriel once again prepared to slam himself inside of the vampire, only to have his advance rejected by the other, who simply clenched tightly, preventing his entry, and the hulking creature could only snarl in frustration. He slammed the vampire's face into the ground yet again, and this time Dracula reciprocated this action with a vicious backhand, his swing connecting with the wolf's snout, turning around and snarling more out of annoyance with having his face smashed. *

*Needless to say, it was a lot more evident that the Count and Gabriel were becoming a bit too excited, judging by the large members that were emerging from their sheaths, and the two creatures, panting, glaring at each other before moving in to clash once more. Only this time it was more a mix of brute force, an intense passion, and absolute lust, though perhaps lust was becoming the more dominant emotion here, with centuries worth of anticipation of their reunion between them, more or less triggering their intense desires. Claws to punches, each beast managed to leave a bruise on the other, and suddenly Dracula stopped, their bodies pressed together, members frotting against each other furiously, a vicious snarl of pleasure managing to escape his throat. *

*But then Gabriel stepped back, pushing the other hard, managing to get away, working on trying to steady his breathing, and he eyed his partner, a fearsome creature of the night, with a lean figure that turned him on, and he simply stared at it, licking his own snout in a wanting way. The way that his hips formed down, his muscular abdomen, chest, and neck made him want to just go to town and ravish him, and he felt that the Count, in turn, did not reject the thought of these desires, more than likely hosting his own in his way. Dracula did not hide his own lust towards Gabriel, in fact, missing the old view that he once had when he could have just simply sparred with the man, watch him bathe naked after their sessions, to just admire his figure, and if his body had been impressive back then, it was better now. *

*It was firm and the bulk of muscles in the well defined areas had grown, and while it could be considered bestial, the body of the werewolf wasn't much different from the form of the man, only large, stronger, and, of course, a hell of a lot hairier, but more than anything else, sculpted to perfection. The two clashed against each other once more, Gabriel continuing his fight for his claim on absolute dominance, and it was only when he managed to overcome the vampire's defence that he had actually managed to find himself in the absolutely most perfect position. Dracula was laying on his back, dazed and ready, and he took a hold of one of the other's leg, lifting it up, while pinning the other down, and with one clean yet rough push, his massive, fiery hot cock was pushing deep within the vampire's fleshy caverns. *

*A howl of pleasure escaping from his snout at the sensation, a hiss of delight escaping from the vampire beneath him, and at the feeling of tightness, the warmth... he almost lost control, almost hitting his release instantly, and he had to fight to hold it back. He wanted the vampire to screech or to roar out his name, wanted him to beg for his release, but the vampire more or less snapped back from his daze, a loud moan escaping from his throat and filling the room, much like the full feeling that he was receiving from his lover's length. If Dracula had been the longer one of their members, then Gabriel definitely made up for it by the noticeable difference in girth, especially with the knot that was positioned both at the base of his large member, and against the opening of the vampire's ass. *

*The moan alone causes that wolf to give a bestial grin, and he did not slow, no, because if the Count was able to withstand his blows from the fierce battle from earlier, then surely he would be able to take the animalistic pounding from the beast he had created. And he began with sharp, intense, rough thrusts, searching for the one spot that he remembered could make the vampire scream, and the sensations only made the vampire whimper and writhe in pleasure, clawing at the ground as he was ravished by the other. He pushed himself up a bit, not to change their position, but to allow his hands to explore his lover's new body, not hesitating to show his admiration for it, his tongue searching for nipples that paired with Gabriel's luscious, muscular chest, and carefully teasing each nub he found. *

*Dracula rubbed his face into the others muscles, moaning lowly with the other as the two made love, and the vampire found that he did not need to touch himself, all of his pleasure being given to him by the way that the werewolf moved and thrusted into him. And soon enough, Dracula was roaring, eyes wide in surprise as the spot was found, making Gabriel even more proud as he thrusted harder to hit it again, a hand sliding up, clasping around the vampire's neck, knowing all too well that the two of them were about to reach their climax. And though he was being choked, the vampire did not hesitate to dig his claws deep into his lover's chest, the scent of their sweat filling both of their nostrils, the werewolf's thrusts never slowing, the combined scent of both of their musk driving him mad with want. *

The speed increased, and so did the strength, this alone causing Dracula's body to actually start to visibly move and bounce with each thrust, tossed around a little, bit by bit, causing the vampire to screech in pleasure, Gabriel roaring in unison as his hands tightened around the others throat. And white spread across the werewolf's glossy coat, his stomach splattered with vampire's seed as the Count writhed and moaned with wanton need as he was filled with his lover's own seed. After a while, he tried to pull away, tried to force the werewolf out of him, as he wanted his turn, but he felt resistance, the werewolf's knot locking him in place, and the werewolf pulled him close, refusing to let him struggle or to pull away.

Gabriel knew that Dracula would attempt to lay claim to him as soon as he was free, but all the werewolf wanted for then right then and there was to just ride their orgasms and rest, to bask in the sight of each other's afterglow before they kept going. Growling in annoyance, the vampire glared back at the werewolf, who simply responded with a smug looking and wolfish grin, and as if to make the other feel better, he laid back, pulling the Count up onto his lap, and he leaned down to lap the remaining cum from his lover's length. And the sight made the vampire forgive the other, because it was rather amusing to see him doing this, to even show an instance of submission after winning their fight for dominance, and he shivered in pleasure as that wolfish tongue worked to please him.

"I will forgive such insolence, but tonight shall definitely make up for it," Dracula purred, noticing as Gabriel shifted away from his length to the rest of his body, feeling his lover give him the same worship that he had done for the other during their session. "Remember, my love, that I have made hundreds of children with ease... so I doubt that you can empty me that quickly, my dear," he hissed, clutching his lover's mane as he stared up at the moon, admiring its beauty and thanking it for letting him experience his lover without interruption. It was going to be a long night, for the both of them.