Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing or Dracula yadda yadda yadda…

The Gift of Life

Transylvania 1885

The wind was freezing cold as the whistling wind whipped through April's hazel hair as she ran. It had blown off the hood of her cloak to bite at her frostbitten face and ears. Tears that were flowing from her green eyes almost froze, it was so cold. There was a panic-stricken look on her fair face as the road came to a dead end at a cliff. She looked down. About two hundred feet below was a river with razor sharp rocks. Her situation did not look promising.

"Kill the witch! Kill the witch!" screamed the angry villagers of Transylvania. She had gone to her cousin's house to cure her baby cousin who was sick with fever. You must know now that she was unlike any other doctor. She possessed a magical amulet that could cure all forms of sickness, the most grievous of wounds, and even death, though she had never dared to try to resurrect anyone. It had been passed down to her from her mother when she was a young girl. She didn't know exactly how her mother had come to posses it, although she came from a long line of magic-practicing gypsies. She assumed it had come from somewhere in there.

"God, help me!" she whispered as she frantically looked back at her pursuers and over the cliff. She was frozen with fear, unable to think when the people came up to her, armed with torches and pitchforks and such crude weapons of sort. A man with black hair, about twenty, but very grim and old looking, stepped forward. He seemed to be leading the riot. Another man scuttled cautiously up behind him. April recognized him to be the gravedigger who had replaced the old one after he died mysteriously one night.

"The citizens of this town hereby accuse you of witchcraft and devil worship! What do you have to say in your defense, witch?"

"I am no witch! I am a simple gypsy healer, and I have done nothing to harm anyone." She said in a shaky voice.

"You have powers that are undoubtedly the work of Satan!"

"No!" she cried desperately. "I am a healer, a doctor! As I said before, I'm a gypsy, not a witch. I am loyal to none but God!"

"Lies!" screamed the gravedigger, coming forward. "You somehow cured the baker's child of high fever instantly, and no mortal doctor can do that unless they are in league with the devil!" he looked about him, seeing approving nods from the crowd. Mob psychology was taking effect, and he could tell. He smiled wickedly, extracting a tape measure from his pocket.

"No doubt to measure my height so he can make a coffin for my corpse." She thought miserably looking around for anything that could possibly help her.

The gravedigger turned to face the crowd, egging them on and then turned to face her. "A healer cannot simply see someone and they are cured not an hour later, but a witch can! It is devilry! It is evil magic!"

"Did Jesus Christ not heal the sick?" she cried. "I told you, I worship only God!"

"Ha!" cried the leader. "Now you blaspheme! The witch is saying now that she is as powerful as Christ himself! She does not deserve to live! It is evil magic, as the gravedigger said! Get her! Get her!"

"No!" she screamed at the advancing villagers.

"Kill the witch! Kill the witch!" they cried.

"All this because my cousin was ill." She grumbled.

She clutched the amulet against her breast and considered showing it to them, but it was too late now. They'd probably just say Satan gave it to her anyway. Plus, her mother had told her to keep it secret and she'd promised to do just that; she couldn't break her vow. She glanced over the cliff again… it was her only way out. She gripped the amulet tighter and hoped that maybe somehow its healing properties could save her.

"God help me!" she cried once again as she closed her eyes and flung herself over the cliff.

To be continued……………