AN: X-Men: First Class Ruined my life! DX (Not seriously...er, sort of?)AU- Vampires, creatures of the dark

I have to read a few books as my summer assignment into AP Writing and Composition, so I plucked out a few and Dracula was on the list (Seeing as I loooooove Anne Rice's work, both the vampire chronicles and not) and I honestly couldn't stop giggling as I read the first few journal entries up to when Johnathan sees the sisters and how Dracula reacts XD If you've read the book before then...just ignore the little bits that happen after the encounters.

For those that haven't read it, it goes in the format of various writing-from journal entries to letters. This story will Vary from those formats to actual narrations Each letter-note-narration is seperated ((sorry if it's confusing))

Enjoy!~

Chapter One- Journey To The End

Charles Xavier's Journal

May 3. I got a letter from her a week ago. It chilled me to the bone, and only a few lines where scrawled on the faded and torn parchment. I've taped it to the end of this entry to keep it safe. It seems my dear Raven has been taken by this man-this so called "Master Lensherr". I've been worried sick since she departed two months ago; I should have known something was amiss when she never wrote or called or tried to contact me! My dearest Raven... I can't help but feel like I've failed her somehow, like she needed me and called for me but I never came to her side...

Besides that, I have the envelope that she used with the address written on the left hand side. I'm on my way as I write on train to Germany, passing many beauteous plains and fields.

Did Raven see this before she was taken?

It hurts, good Lord it hurts when I think about Raven, with her sharp blue eyes, curled blonde hair, rosy cheeks and her charming laugh. It hurts to think that someone could have stolen the light of her eyes, the innocence of her heart and soul...

I should stop this train of thought before I get worse, I'm already tearing up.

Lucky for me I know a few strands of German. The women in the compartment across from my own seem to have taken a liking for me. It's funny, in a way, how they speak to me though. They kept telling me little legends of Germany, telling me to buy one thing or another to keep myself safe. The oldest woman there, with silver hair and clothed in many layers was the one to ask me where I was going.

"Lensherr Manor." I had replied.

Their stunned, terse silence frightened me. The senior of the group, the one that I had talked to, broke the silence with a wet, sickening cough.

"Here, my son, take this." She had said and gingerly handed me a very beautiful rosary. It was longer than those old catholic ones I had seen in churches before; the cross dangling from the rosary was a shining silver, and the prayer beads were a rich aquamarine. She said something in German that I couldn't translate very well so I'll write it now and hopefully translate later.

"Schutz dieser Junge aus was das Böse stößt er auf"

The night is getting cold and I have until morning on the train. I'll stop here tonight and write whatever comes next. (The Rosary is safely tucked under my shirt, a comfortable relic more than an awkward pendant.)

((The writing ends there, and just on the back of the page is a piece of paper, horribly rumpled and torn in some places. The writing is small and almost illegible and looks more like a series of lines and curls and dots instead of English. There are a few wet spots, the ink is slightly bled through the paper and some of the words are smudged but anyone with enough time could read the short letter))

"Charles.

Please help me!

He's -(Here the smudges are too dark and no words can be read)-

Raven"

May 4.

It finally hit me this morning.

What in the world am I planning to do, rushing headlong into a stranger's manor (Whom I presume is dangerous) to save my sister?

So I decided maybe getting that phone (Or letting Raven force me to buy it) wasn't such a bad idea. I Googled a few things about Germany, mostly about this Lensherr character. I'm willing to jot down a few of the more...unusual(?) things I've found.

For one, there aren't many names written down in the Lensherr family ancestry. There are maybe a dozen since the 1700's, and it ends with Erik Lensherr around 1939, born in 1924. He family was Jewish during the rise of Nazis in Germany and no other grand news was reported of the Lensherr family after the War until late 1960 with the re-purchase of the German lands once under the Lensherr-Eisenhardt name, including the home in Poland to which they had been said to have fled to.

There are almost no photos of the remaining heir; the only information I have on them is the very same name of Erik Lensherr. If that information is right, then that would mean that the last living Lensherr is a Holocaust survivor, nearing his 77th year. If that's true-and I seriously hope it is- then he should be harmless enough. And if not, I can overpower him (strictly only if necesary! I really wouldn't want to injure a senior...)

The women in the oppisite compartment have gone, I take it to some other, more spacious room (how they all managed to tolerate staying in only one, all seven of them, I'll never know)

And I managed to translate what the oldest of them said, the little note I wrote last night.

"Protect this boy from what evil he encounters"

It's creepy. But... I guess I'm flattered? It's a tad bit ominous but it's protection nonetheless. I think people around here have a thing for superstitions.

Ah, the trainst slowing and we're almost at the station. I'm going to go and rest at a hotel for today (it's, what, 10 something in the morning. Sue me if I'm tired of sitting.) I was plagued by the strangest of nightmares... something about wolves and bats and god knows what else... I really couldn't sleep comfortably (hence the Google'ing and such.) It was too cold and being alone in the compartment only seemed to make me more skittish.

Hopefully a good nap, breakfast and some sunlight will untie the knot in my throat and ease my frightened heart.

((note to self: bring Raven around Magdeburg, I think she'd love it here))

Charles sighs as he closes the leatherbound journal, snaking the thin red ribbon into the latest written page. He shifted in the empty compartment, shuffling around until he found his book bag. He lifts it up and sits back on his seat, placing the journal within the near empty bag. Charles rubs his eyes tiredly and yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

It's only a few minutes later that the conductor announces their arrival at the Magdeburg station. Charles rises from his seat and takes with him his bookbag, which he slung across his shoulder, and a small carry-bag with a few of his clothes.

He made it a point to not pack for such a long journey; It'd take three days and he would be home with Raven.

There was no other option.

The hotel, Charles was happy to notice, wasn't far at all. As he disembarked the train, he felt a soft hand press against his back. He spins around and comes face to face with one of the sisters, the most quiet of the bunch. She's a healthy thin, ger hair straight and brown, pressing gently against her shoulders and her eyes are kind, arched with her beautiful smile.

"My Oma wanted me to wish you a safe journey" She spoke fluently, no hint of an accent at all. Charles smiled and nodded.

"Then give her my thanks for the Rosary, it's quite beautiful." Charles replies, sarting his way down the stone sidewalk. The woman nods and sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"She also wishes to tell you that it would be best to abandon your quest, there is much.. .darkness afoot, and whatever you must do that is necessary for you to find the Lensherr manor should be either of life or death' she pleads that you do not go ahead. She offered to let you stay with us for however long you must stay before returning home." It was impossible to miss the frantic, underlying distress in the girl's words. Charles felt the knot in his throat return and his heart dropped to his stomach.

But this was a life or death situation.

He wouldn't think of abandoning Raven.

"I am very sorry, really," Charles starts, and he stops mid stride," but my sister is there, and I am keen on recovering her and returning home. I thank you for all your kindness, of that of your entire kin, but I can't stop here. Thank you."

Charles keeps walking, his head bowed and the woman doesn't follow.

A note to Charles Xavier found on the nightstand of room S13:

Mister Xavier:

You seem intent on coming to my home. In that case, I openly send you an inventation to my manor. A car will pick you up at this hotel tonight at six in the evening. It will bring you directly here, so as to save you the trouble of the journey. I understand you are quite a while away, but my driver is one of the best and It won't leave until you enter.

There will be no need to introduce yourself. He will know you when he sees you.

I will await your arrival.

-Erik Lehnsherr

May 4. ((Later))

I entered my room at about 10:30 a.m, tired and in desperate need of a nap. I fell asleep with my journal in my bookbag, m,y phone in my pocket, and both of my bags beside the door.

It's ten minutes until 3, and my bags are on the chair beside the bed, my phone is on the nightstand and My clothes are more than slightly rumpled ((I chalk this down to my nap, but I'm not much of a mover when I sleep))

What's most unnerving is the note I found beneath my phone. It's addressed "Erik Lehnsherr"

My heart dropped when I read the name.

He knows where I am.

How did he enter?

How did he find me?

How does he know that I'm looking for him?

I'm more than scared now. But this is for Raven. If he knows where I am it may be because of my sister. Maybe the despicable monster forced her to send teh letter, knowing I'd come here.

I'll keep that blade with my person from now on; I don't want t o risk it

((Oh, it's quite a beauty, with the handle containing two buttons on one end, double bladed; a gift from Raven after-))

I'm taking a risk. One that may cost me my life If I go with that driver.

But if it's a chance to save Raven, then it's a risk I'll have to take.

It's only ten minutes until six and Charles is already leaning against the wall of the front of the hotel, anxiety and fear biting away at his sanity. He glances around at passer-bys with wide blue eyes, biting his pink bottom lip (a nervous habit) and thrumming his fingers against his book bag. The weather continues to get colder with each passing minute and Charles is really starting to regret not bringing his coat.

A black car with deeply tinted windows stops before him. The car, while by no means a car of the year, is a shiny black with silver rims and windows almost as black as the framework. The back window begins to slide down and a deep voice reaches Charles:

"Come now, Charles, would just any car stop before you?" There's an unmistakable hint of amusement in the tone. Charles hesitates for a split second before pushing of the wall. HIs steps are still slow and unsure before he reaches the back door, hand caressing the cold metal handle.

The door opens and Charles slips into the vehicle.

He doesn't look up from the gray carpet on the floor, buckles up and shifts his gaze out the tinted window.

"Silent? Nothing to say?" The driver speaks up, breaking Charles from his stupor.

"What is there to say?" Charles replies, turning to see the driver's profile. Something inside of Charles seems to shiver, though not in fear. His heart begins to beat faster in his chest. The driver's not wearing any kind of working suit, but a tight gray shirt and black pants; his hair is a light brown and slicked back, lips quirked into a smirk and steely blue eyes on the road ahead.

All in all he's quite aesthetically appealing.

Handsome, if you will.

Charles clears his throat and focuses back to the city flashing by his window. From his peripherals he sees the driver's smirk shift into a teasing grin and decides not to comment on the change.

"Your accent, I take it your from around here?" Charles asks softly, after a few minutes of silence (other than the bustle of the city). The driver glances into the rearview mirror, conviniently flashing Charles the sight of an eyebrow quirking over one of those beautiful eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry if it's pressumptuous of me-"

"Not at all." He inturrupts, giving a one sided shrug. "I'm German by blood, though my family moved to Poland sometime after my birth. All my life I've been struggling between the two and It would be odd if my accent didn't transfer into my english." His voice is strong, the accent really only slight when he speaks. "By the sound of your voice I'd say either you where born or spent too much time in England." Charles feels a heat settle in his cheeks. A quick glance and the driver chuckles.

"Well, yes actually; I was born in New York but have been in England for the past several years..." Charles trails off, embarrased and a bit confused as to why he's sharing the details with this stranger. His hand settles into his pant pocket, brushing the closed blade hidden there. A shudder runs up his arm and he places both hands on his lap. "How long will it take?" Charles asks, still incredibly tired from his two day journey inland.

"Maybe an hour or two if we're lucky" Is the grunted reply. Theres a lingering silence and Charles feels himself dozing off slowly, leaning against the window. "You can rest if you want." The driver says as he makes a right turn. "I'll wake you when we arrive." By then Charles was more then half asleep and he only nodded in ascent. He leans his head against the tinted glass, hand between the glass and his head, a slight shiver passing through his body before he completely succumbed to the sleep.

An hour later, the car turned to the shoulder of the road. The driver comes out of his seat, opens the truck and then opened the passenger seat oppisite of where Charles sits. He shuffles about for a second before finally facing the sleeping Charles. His hand raises and brushes the cold, flushed cheek; Charles stirs but doesn't wake up.

He shudders, turns away and looks down at the coat in his hands. After a few seconds of calm breathing, he places the coat over Charles' shivering form and returns to his original seat, starts the engine and drives back onto the main road. He gives a few quick glances at Charles, who's looking much more comfortable and warm. He takes a deep breath and shudders, the all-too sensual smell filling his senses. His hands tighten on the steering wheel and his foot presses down on the accelerator.

The scent slowly begins to fill his senses, almost overwhelming. He's calling out to him, stronger than before.

A grin spreads on the driver's lips, devious, teasing, almost sinister.

Finally, after so many years, Erik has found him.

Charles Xavier.

He's found his mate.

The city blows by them in a blurred rush; in almost no time they've stopped before a large iron gate.

They've arrived.

Lehnsherr Manor.

They're home...