Carl’s face flushed as he stormed down the alley, leaving the gasping drunkard behind him. Getting away hadn’t been too hard, and the young friar smirked as he recalled his method of escape.
* “C’mon duckie, wha’dya say? Let us buy ya a pint,” the stranger slurred, waggling his eyebrows at Carl.
Slightly disturbed, Carl hid his grimace behind his hand as he let out his best impression of a lady’s high pitched giggle.
* “Oh, I don’t know….are you perhaps a man of medicine?” Carl inquired, watching the stumbling man in front of him.
* “Well, girlie, if that’s your fancy, I can play doctor with the best of ‘em,” the unsuspecting drunkard smiled as he leaned in close.
Carl closed his eyes for a second and gathered himself as he considered his options. Obviously this man wasn’t the one they were looking for. He had to get away quickly or his cover would be blown. Steeling himself, Carl opened his eyes and moved forward to meet the man, kneeing him in his lower region.
* “Then physician, heal thyself!” Carl replied snarkily and huffed off, ignoring the collapsed man’s groan of pain.
Turning onto another alley, Carl hesitated for just a moment. This alley was darker and a lot narrower. Walking quickly, Carl hurried down the alley and zig zagged up and down a few more deserted alleyways before coming across a promising street. There appeared to be a tavern around the corner and there was a lamp post he could stand by on this street, to ‘ply his wares’.
* “Should we try this street? Van Helsing? Where are you hiding now?” he cried out.
A sound behind him caused him to tense up as he turned around. Please be Van Helsing, please be Van Helsing, Carl thought. Hands appeared around his throat and he was knocked backwards, coughing as his breath was forced out upon rough contact with the alley wall. Grasping his attacker’s hands, he stared up in horror at the monstrocity that must surely be the person they were after.
* “I am not a lady!” Carl gasped when the hands tightened to the point where he almost couldn’t breathe or speak.
* “That’s ok, I want a gentleman,” the deformed man said gleefully.
“Carl! Carl, I’m coming!” Van Helsing’s voice called out, sounding as though he were a few rooftops away.
With a snarl, Carl was jerked around and held tightly against his attacker’s chest. A scalpel made its way up to his throat as he was slightly crushed closer, becoming a shield to ward off any attempts of a rescue from his friend.
“VAN HELSING!” Carl screamed.
Scrambling off the roof, Van Helsing slid to a stop a few feet away. His eyes narrowed. Drawing his gun, the hunter aimed at the man behind Carl.
“Let him go.” Came the quiet demand, promising death upon his friend’s tormentor.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“Damn it all,” Carl whimpered and closed his eyes, slumping helplessly against his attacker.