Klaus Van Helsing

[WP] A grizzled fighter walks into a tavern covered in scars. They bear the insignia of a respected order of monster slayers, and you simply must know their story. Your respect for them increases when they tell you that they hunt the most feared species of monster in the known world, the clown.

*****

Dusk Tavern was something of a family business. My family business actually. Generations of Ruxley's before me had run the tavern which also had a little inn for travelers. It was simply the one place in this town to stop, relax, and recharge in the course of one's journey.

I had seen my fair share of crazy occurrences in my 10 years of tending to this tavern. We had frequent visits from the police, Bounty hunters and all that because it was more likely than not that wanted criminals stopped by the tavern for a drink or a bed.

Of course, we maintained our integrity as a business, never willingly offering aid or assistance to known criminals. Little wonder we managed to stay open for over a century, maintaining a good relationship with the police.

But as I said, I had seen my fair share of strange men, and the event I'm about to narrate is perhaps the most outstanding. It was common knowledge that there were monsters out there - no I'm not talking about the worst kind, humans, but the monsters one read in books and children talked about.

Centaurs, Man-eating giant spiders, blood-sucking vampire bats with limbs almost as long as a man's, vampires, werewolves, witches, maybe even ghosts. They existed. We'd heard stories, and I'd had a few run-ins with creatures I knew were supernatural.

I also knew that the police would not take care of these. Perhaps could, since the situation was less of a choice and more of a simple inability to handle such. Monster Hunters were those that were entrusted with ridding the world of those creatures. Nit recognized by the King or Parliament but recognized by Law Enforcement as help in matters they couldn't handle.

Even though they existed, I had only seen and talked to a few low-rank monster hunters. The ones that hunted down small ghouls, or at best, vampires. So it came as a surprise when this strange man walked into the bar.

He wore a tank top which showed off his impressive chest and abdominal muscles. His buff arms were covered in scars, and a scar ran from the right side of his forehead, across the eye, and down to his cheek. That eye was still open, and it seemed to be working fine. There was a crossbow in his arms, two swords sheathed on his back, and what was a utility belt containing many vials of colored liquid strapped around his waist.

But what got to me was the insignia tattooed on his right arm, around his deltoid area. A cracked skull with swords stuck in the eyelids and a pair of wings behind. The Insignia of the Helsings, a well-known family of Monster Hunters.

"Y-you're..."

He smiled broadly. "Klaus Van Helsing, and it's a pleasure to meet you David Ruxley."

"You know me?"

"Generations of Helsings have also patronized this tavern, surely you must know that?"

"Yes, but..." I did know that. In fact, there was a silver piece that was melted into the board atop the counter. From the very first sale and to our first customer, the first Helsing. It still did not explain why he knew my name.

"Of course we keep tabs on who runs the tavern at all times. I've just not been around here for a while. The worst monsters out there have a knack for ridding you of any changes to rest."

"The worst?" I asked, uncertain.

"The worst. Clowns."

I gasped, and the only other person in the tavern chuckled. "Clowns cannot be that scary, are they even monsters at all?"

"Heh," Klaus said, downing a shot of whiskey before turning. "Fo you people really think children who fear clowns are being irrational? There's a lot to learn from kids. Clowns are worse than the monsters you see with fangs and claws, and that's because their work is more psychological than physical."

I asked the cooks to get a pie ready for Klaus. "Stay awhile and tell us your story, will you? The pie and the next two rounds of drinks are on the house."

"When you put it like that... I guess I'll tell you about what happened last week when I went to London."

"The city?"

"Most of you assume these things only happen in the rural, secluded areas. It's worse in the city because it's hard to differentiate between the actions of monsters and humans. Buildings everywhere, Filth and all that, plus the monsters there are smarter and better at hiding."

The other man nodded, understanding his point of view.

"I was called after a young man committed suicide three days after celebrating his 16th birthday..."

"That's not..."

"He was the fourth person to commit suicide in three days. The other three also went to that party."

We both gasped. "That's..."

"The police had their hands tied, so the family, one of these rich aristocratic ones, called me in to investigate, and the first thing I asked was if they hired a clown, to which they admitted."

"How did you know?"

"I'll explain as we proceed. I then asked them to write down the address of the clown and then I went to visit him. With my sword tucked in the arms of my trenchcoat."

We were riveted as he talked.

"Zombo the Clown lived in a rundown, depressing apartment in the rough part of town. Hardly the kind of place that an entertainer who brought joy to kids was supposed to live in. I kicked down the door and entered, and the inside was even worse than the outside. Filthy, disorganized, and gloomy, it looked like it hadn't been inhabited for years. And yet, there sat a man in front of the mirror, applying red lipstick."

"Was he..."

"Of course, he wasn't preparing for another gig, he was preparing for me. He knew a monster hunter was coming, and he was preparing to engage me. The whole clown mask was part of his battle preparations."

"Battle preparations? Makeup? What do you..."

"Most of these things you people take as normal have serious meanings to them in the supernatural. Clowns are generally dome of the most depressed people in the world, real clowns that is, not just your uncle in a wig and red nose. Professional clowns put on that makeup and you never know that it's really a pact. A demonic pact."

"D-demonic?"

"There are several demons that steal the happiness or joy of people. Neonaryx is the weakest one, the one that targets children. Its face is the same as that of a clown, and that's why Clowns use that mask. They want to steal the joy of kids, and so they invoke a demon to steal that joy. But in reality, an exchange occurs, since the mask is just a gateway. Children get the depression of an adult, while the Clowns drain the joy of children. It's evil," he spat.

"Why...why kids? Why not adults like themselves?"

"They can barely keep that Neonaryx demon under control. Any of the demons that steal the happiness from older, more stable individuals would take over their bodies. The children killed themselves due to the depression, and if I didn't destroy him while he was still in that mask, all of the others would."

"You say 'while he was still in that mask' like it's a condition," the other man commented.

"Yes, it is. Doing that terminates the contract and forces the release of the joy of the children. The man of course is doomed to suffer in hell with Neonaryx for eternity."

I grimaced. "So...?"

"So? Oh, of course, I killed him. Cut off both arms and beheaded him. His body turned to ashes almost immediately, as did most people who have invoked demons into them at any point in time."

At this time it was late, and he had finished the pie. "Well David, it's been pleasant, but I have to be on my way now."

"It's almost midnight, surely you'd like to stay the night?"

He smiled. "I have to take care of a ghoul this time. It only comes out at midnight, so I've been here just to pass time. It was nice having this chat with you anyway," he said, stepping out.

As I said, I've seen my share of strange men. Maybe I'll tell you another tale, whenever I find the time too.

*****

This one was extra long, yes, I know, but it was worth it because I really loved this prompt.

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