Yes, I do realize that I am incredibly late as far as stories for this movie go, but I guess you could say that I was a little late in watching it. (No one told me how good it was.) Anyway, this is an AU that would take place near the beginning of the movie, after the backstory. In this story, Barnabas awakes a few days earlier, and Victoria's asylum is in Maine, not far outside of Collinsport. It's my first story for the movie, so I hope you like it!

The darkness was heavy, almost palpable. Day after day, year after year, it surrounded him like a black ocean. But Barnabas Collins was used to this. For nearly 200 years he had remained still as the dead, unable to free himself from this miserable, lonely prison. By this point, time was just a blur for him, one decade indistinguishable from the next.

As he lay in his coffin he had an eternity to think. His first thought, of course, was always family. He constantly wondered what would remain of them when he awoke. Would they endure? Would they be well off? These questions seemed to arise particularly often, more often than the rest. If only he could be there to see them. If only he wasn't stuck in this wretched box. He was immortal now, and he could be using his eternity to help them, if only he could.

However, when these thoughts subsided from his mind, he was constantly plagued by the thought of his dear Josette. It was his fault she was dead, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't rid himself of the memory of her broken, lifeless body as he held her in his arms for one last time. He remembered the blood that flowed from the gashes in her body that were caused by the sharp rocks. He remembered the way her clouded eyes stared blankly back at him as he shook her and desperately called her name. And most of all, he remembered the guilt that stabbed at him like a knife once he realized what he had done. Of course, he was constantly telling himself that her blood was on Angelique's hands, but even as the decades passed, this feeling of guilt never quite subsided.

It was such a thought that was passing through his head when he was startled by a metallic clang sound against the top of his coffin. Convinced that he was merely hallucinating again, as he had many times before, Barnabas thought nothing of it. However, it was a little harder to ignore when the noise came a second time. Clang. There was no mistaking it now; someone had finally found him! After nearly two centuries, freedom was finally within his grasp. It wasn't long now….

Upon testing the chains that bound him, Barnabas found that the metal was rusty and had grown weak with age. In one swift movement, he was able to force break through his bonds, thrust the coffin's lid into the air, and finally escape from his dreadful prison. The first thing on his mind was a simple, instinctive need: food. For him, this now came in the form of blood. And though he detested killing with every fiber of his being, Barnabas knew that he would have to kill to survive.

As he surveyed his surroundings, he found that he was in luck. Several stunned men in hard yellow hats were standing around, staring at him in awe. He silently apologized to himself, and then the feeding frenzy began.

…

In a matter of mere minutes, the bodies of all the construction workers littered the ground. Barnabas alone stood over them, casting a look upon them that conveyed the disgust he felt towards himself. "I'm terribly sorry," he said to the unhearing corpses.

However, he had lived with himself for nearly two centuries, and he told himself, as he had all those years ago, that he must kill to survive. Yes, it was just survival, nothing more.

So with that, Barnabas began to depart. He was very familiar with the area, even though it had drastically changed since he'd been gone, and he knew the way to his beloved Collinwood like he knew the back of his hand.

However, before he made it very far, a sound graced his ears, picked up only by the heightened senses that came with his condition. It was a sound that he had heard all too many times before, he was ashamed to say. It was a scream. Yet, it was not the same as those horrified, frightened screams that rose from the mouths of his victims; it was desperate, as if the person from whom it came had all but completely given up. For this reason, it made Barnabas cringe.

He now found himself faced with a choice: he could either continue on to Collinwood to assure himself of his family's endurance, or he could follow the desperate cry that seemed to pull him in like a magnet.

Collinwood was so close. He had spent so much time missing it, so much time dreaming about it, and now it was so close. But he couldn't go. Not yet. It felt to him as though some unknown force was pulling him in the direction of the scream, and he found himself unwilling to fight its attraction.

As he walked towards the noise, he expected to see thick forests, as had been there in his time. And while there were still many trees standing, the area seemed more open than he remembered it. Yes, many things had changed, and another such thing was the road that now snaked through the trees. The painted lines that ran through the middle of this road looked rather promising, so Barnabas decided to follow it, as it seemed to run in the direction he was going anyway.

He walked for miles on miles down this road, and hours began to pass. After a while, the trees began to thin, and through them Barnabas saw what he could only assume was his destination: a large, stone building with barred windows. There didn't appear to be any other structures nearby, so this had to have been where the cry came from.

He approached cautiously, wary of what he might find. As he moved in closer, more noises were audible. Several people within the walls must have been muttering nonsense. Barnabas could hear every word clearly, but none of it was of any importance. More people were crying. There were so many people crying. He listened carefully now, trying to distinguish who it was that had uttered such a desperate wail.

Finally, it came again, weaker now, as if to show that whoever screamed was trying to convince herself that she hadn't given up yet, though keeping hope was proving difficult. Herself. Yes, it must have been a girl, from the sound of the voice. And Barnabas' lifeless heart ached at the sound, almost as if the sound had been made by an old friend, someone he once knew.

Something had to be done. He hadn't been exactly sure about just what he would do until that point. But now it was clear: he would save her. Perhaps saving a life could be a sort of reparation for taking so many.

So Barnabas latched on to the wall and began to climb, as the cry had come from one of the upper levels. When he finally reached the barred window that led into the room that he suspected this unknown girl was in, he silently peered in.

Inside, a young woman sat in a strange padded room. She wore a white jacket that contained her arms, not allowing her to move them. Her head was down, her hair shielding her face from his view. But what was worst of all—worse than the padded room or the straitjacket—was the way she was crying. It was the most pitiful thing Barnabas had ever seen in his life. The way she hunched over made her look broken, hopeless.

Just then, her head shot up. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn't staring at him. She was concentrated on a point directly in front of her, as if she was listening intently to something another person was saying to her.

But Barnabas wasn't concerned with that. He was looking at her face, and what he saw stunned him to his very core: it was her. It was his beloved Josette. Now, he knew, of course, that his beloved had died when Angelique had caused her to plummet from the top of Widow's Hill. But the resemblance was uncanny. The look of determination that was slowly beginning to recolor her face was one that he knew all too well. Now he knew why he seemed to be drawn to this place.

At this realization, a gasp escaped from his lips, causing the woman inside to swing her head around to the window. Barnabas didn't even bother with hiding. How could he in the presence of one as beautiful as she?

This woman didn't appear to be frightened or alarmed. If anything, the sight of him seemed to help in raising her hopes. "Who are you?" she asked calmly.

Barnabas was caught off-guard for a moment, and the question jolted him from his dazed reverie. "My name is Barnabas Collins. You need not fear me, my dear, for I am here to rescue you from this wretched prison."

She seemed to turn over what he said, but after a moment, her hope began to fade once more. "There's no use. They'll know I'm gone. They'll find me."

Once again, Barnabas struggled to find the right words to console someone so despairing. "You need not worry about that. I will take care of everything."

"How can you?" As the tears began to show themselves once more, Barnabas could practically see the war that was playing out inside her. He had raised her hopes for one moment, just one brief moment, and now that her hope was leaving, it was as if the walls that she used as a defense were coming crumbling down.

"My dear, you need only trust me. I can assure your safety in escaping this miserable place, but you must first accept my assistance."

Her breaths were jagged now as she tried to hold back the tears that had not yet fallen. "But why? You don't even know me."

"It is true that I do not yet know your name, but it is a shame to hide away a creature as beautiful as yourself in a place as wretched as this."

She seemed to take a while to consider this, as if she was trying to pick a name for herself. He couldn't blame her, though. After all, he was just a stranger who had just climbed up a wall claiming to be able to free her. "Victoria. Victoria… Winters," she finally managed to say.

Barnabas smiled, seeing this as a sign of her submission. "Victoria Winters. A name so beautiful should be heard by all who can listen. And tell me, Victoria Winters, do you now trust me enough to allow me to free you from this prison?"

Once again, Victoria focused her attention on the wall in front of her for a few moments. With a small nod, she turned her attention back to Barnabas. "Yes."

This small indication of assent was all he needed to hear. Without any effort at all, he tore the bars from her window and allowed them to drop to the soft ground beneath. When he turned to offer his hand to Victoria, he found her pressed against the far wall of the room, eyes now wide with fear. The moonlight now shone brightly on him, illuminating the blood that still covered his face and hands. Barnabas realized that, after seeing how easily he ripped the bars from the surrounding walls, Victoria must have figured out what he was.

He talked gently, so as not to startle her any further. "You needn't fear me, my dear, for I do not come with any ulterior motives in mind. I must apologize for my appearance and also for my nature. You see, I was cursed by a witch to be a vampire for all eternity. However, you must know that I mean you no harm. I only wish to help you."

Barnabas could see the obvious conflict going inside Victoria played out in her eyes. He knew that she so badly wanted to believe what he was saying, wanted to trust the words of the invisible entity that he knew must have been guiding her. However, he was a monster, and he knew she could see that.

After what felt to Barnabas like an eternity of consideration, Victoria finally replied, "Just tell me what will happen next."

Once again, he found himself unable to speak. He hadn't really thought past breaking her out yet. As soon as he saw how similar she was to his beloved Josette, every other thought escaped his mind. However, it didn't take him long to come up with an answer. "Before I set my mind to rescue you, I had been determined to find my way back to my beloved Collinwood. If my family endures, they should welcome me back with open arms. If this be the case, I will be able to offer you a position at the manor. I can provide you with anything you could possibly need. Should you change your name, no one would ever find you. Even in the case that they did, I could offer you protection."

He could see that she was slowly warming up to this offer. He was so close now.

"But how can I be sure that you mean what you say, that you won't just kill me the minute I take your hand?"

Barnabas knew that this would be the final proof. She would gladly go with him if only he could somehow prove his intentions. In a move that he hoped wouldn't be too bold, he climbed through her window and stepped onto the padded floor that lined Victoria's room. Instead of flinching away, though, she stood to face him, still wrapped in the straitjacket.

"Allow me," he said, reaching out to her. She cautiously turned and allowed him to undo the bindings. Before long, the jacket fell to the floor, and Victoria was free. "You see," Barnabas said quietly, "I mean you no harm."

Now he offered her his hand, willing her to know that every word he said was true. Finally, she placed her hand in his. For a moment, her eyes were fixed on their hands, and when she finally looked up to meet his eyes, hers held tears once more. "Thank you," she whispered, clutching his hand more firmly now. "Thank you. For all of this."

"My dear," Barnabas said as he led her over to the window, "you must believe me when I say that it is my deepest pleasure."

After climbing out the window himself, he offered Victoria his arm, carrying her down the asylum wall. Once they were back on the ground, Barnabas led her hand-in-hand down the road that he had followed in order to get there, knowing that in a couple short hours they would arrive at his home, the place he loved most in the world: Collinwood.

Reviews are lovely!