The Van Helsing Incursion

THEY'RE MAGICALLY DELICIOUS

Clara had been lying flat against the snow-covered ground since the witching hour. The sky was taking on red hues, and the moon would soon secede its dominion over the celestial plain.

She maintained a low heart rate while her movements were kept to an absolute minimum. Freshly fallen snow had accumulated during the night, all of which helped to conceal her position.

In truth, Clara was toasty warm since her ghillie suit was both warm and waterproof; the perfect balance of modern and natural materials. Not only did it help her to blend in, but it also imbued the wearer with the ability to endure long periods outside in the cold without freezing to death.

Up ahead, there was a black cauldron, about the size of her head, which overflowed with gold. Logic dictated that it should have been covered by the falling snow, but the precious metal continued to glisten in the crepuscular light.

That was expected, since Clara had sensed something was wrong the moment she entered the clearing. There was a darkness to this place, unearthly and impure. Hunters from the Tower, a secret order that preyed on monsters of myth, would have known to steer clear. That or raze the place to the ground, and salt the earth for good measure.

"Six deaths in the last month, and all of them centred on this area," Clara voiced silently to herself as a way to busy her mind.

All of these deaths had been classified as freak accidents, each so noteworthy that the news of those deaths had spread throughout the world like wildfire. Not because of the hilarity, although a few heartless souls would certainly think so, but due to the improbable series of unfortunate events needed to make such a death possible.

A recent macabre article mentioned how a man narrowly avoided a runaway parked car, only to slip on some ice and fall on his ass. While he counted his blessings, a mysterious funnel cloud formed in the area channelling cold air from the upper atmosphere into the troposphere, flesh freezing some hapless raven in mid-flap. Before the funnel dissipated, the birdcicle was sent hurtling towards the unsuspecting victim with enough force to tear through his chest.

If not for nearby traffic and security footage, investigators would have not been able to piece together what happened. As it stood, no one questioned why the victim was found without his gold watch, chain, and fillings.

"Vermin," Clara added in silence as her eyes narrowed to focus on faint movement in the distance.

Of course, the other goldbergian-style deaths only served as a catalyst for the conspiracy theorists. Who could blame them? Clara had been just as drawn in by the suspicious nature of these accidents, not to mention their proximity to one another. The difference was, Clara had a good idea about the threat she faced.

Clara held a white crossbow that blended in perfectly with the snow, except for the draw string, cables and cams. Fortunately, the snow had built up over those components, along with the spring-loaded prongs that defined the bolt's tip.

Now that this creature had broken through the opposing treeline, the movements ahead were more overt. Despite the twilight, Clara made out what she was up against. There it was. About the size of a cat, but standing upright, it was dressed in green with elfin ears and fiery red hair.

"Bastard," Clara mouthed before adopting a smile that went ear to ear because she was right.

Dead ahead, the leprechaun stared at the gold Clara left behind as bait. It left no traces of its passing in the snow, a detail they missed during her lectures back at the Tower. How odd? Although, it did much to explain how such creatures remained undetected for so long.

Even with the growing sense of anticipation, Clara remained perfectly still. She kept an eye open for any surprises, even as a snowflake reached her iris. Despite the discomfort, Clara kept her eyes on this creature because she only had one shot at this.