The Legacy Lives On

Van Helsing slowly blinked open an eye. Then the other.

It took a minute for him to recall where he was and why he was there. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the room around him, he remembered.

It was dark, but he could still make out the telltale signs of being in a hospital-like room: the beeping of the heart monitor, the sterilized smell that lingered in the air, and the white linen sheets that were on the bed he was laid on top of. He sat up, heaving the metallic machine that was his robotic body off of the bed with somewhat of a loud clang. The sensation rattled his circuits for a brief moment, before he was able to regroup himself. There were still some aches in his body, but that was to be expected after the operation. He should have been used to it by now - given that the same process had been done on him for his liver and spleen - but there was always still that lingering feeling of wooziness within. Regardless, he was still very much alive and kicking, and that's all that mattered to him in the end.

Stretching out some, he carefully detached the cords that connected him to the heart monitor and then began to make his way out of the room, the wheels on his body squeaking and the ventilator occasionally puffing out a stream of smoke. It was a slow process to get to the door, and he groaned. It wasn't always easy getting used to the cyborg deal he had going on versus when he had capable legs. Once he reached the knob, he twisted it open and made his way out into the hallway, making a few twists and turns to get to the room he was trying to reach and the folks who were in it. It turned out he didn't need to wait, as he was intercepted along the way.

"Grandfather!" a voice exclaimed from behind him. Van Helsing whipped around to find a young man, roughly his age when he was but a young monster hunter with two smaller but distinct blonde curls atop of his head, standing a few paces away with his arms crossed and a scowl clear on his features. "I thought I told you that you weren't supposed to get up the next day after the operation!"

"Ah, nonsense, my boy," Van Helsing dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I've gone through more of these than you can imagine. Besides, there is no time to waste if I want to handle this baby," he said, fondly patting the side wall. He then turned to his grandson and waved a hand over. "Now, come on, Simon! The Legacy isn't going to pilot itself, you know!"

Simon shook his head. "Anna's got it handled up at the front. I was heading over to check on my baby. Have hardly had a minute to spend with her since coming aboard."

Van Helsing cocked his head and gave him a confused glare. "What are you blabbering about?"

Simon gave a heavy sigh. "Oh, grandfather, did you seriously forget again?" Van Helsing followed the exasperated man back into another room. He didn't recall being in this one before, but he didn't like it very much. Already as soon as he walked in, he could smell a terrible odor, and a shrill crying had begun to echo throughout. He brought his hands to his ears as his grandson made his way over to the very source of both horrible assaults on the senses - a crib, and from it, a baby.

"Awww, does somebody need a diaper change?" Simon cooed at the child. The baby, a sweet little girl with full cheeks and soft, white curls on her head immediately ceased her crying and babbled happily at the sight of her father. Simon nuzzled her, and then turned to his grandfather.

"Grandfather," he said. "This, in case you don't remember, is your great-granddaughter."

"Ahh, yes, of course," Van Helsing replied, desperately searching his mind for her name. "Yes, of course I remember. Good old little... Evelyn!"

"No, grandfather," Simon groaned. "Ericka."

"Ericka, yes, I knew that," Van Helsing tried to cover, glancing at the child. She gave him a rather unimpressed look and began to pout again. He suppressed a scowl. Precious child, indeed.