You must have been about four or five the very first time you heard about him. Much too old for fairy tales about Big Bad Wolves or witches who eat wandering children that stroll by her cottage, your great-grandfather decides to tell you a different story as he tucks you into bed that night. A story of a terrifying beast of a man, with dark magical abilities and an insatiable appetite that consisted of human blood. Your eyes widen involuntarily he tells you that the man is an immortal creature called a vampire, who is known far and wide as the infamous Count Dracula. At first, you don't know what to make of him - or what he's counting for that matter - but you do know that he is evil and must be ridden of his presence in the world. Thankfully, your great-grandfather enlightens you to some rather pleasing news. Because, despite your diminutive stature and less-than-threatening appearance now, in the future you were destined to be a great monster hunter, just like great-grandfather was. For it was the Van Helsing legacy to enter a life-long commitment to destroy the evil vampire that was Dracula. Any other child might be frightened to hear such a thing expected of them, but you take it in stride, and already begin plotting ideas in your head for how to make him have a permanent stay in his coffin. It's a thought that puts a smile onto your lips as you drift off into sleep that night, and dream for the first time in your life about killing Dracula.

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Week after week, month after month, and year upon year, you train.

You take up karate in your youth, easily mastering the judo-like moves and pretending that the boards you smash through are his face. Along with martial arts, you master the skills of archery, shooting, and knife-throwing in your teenage years and beyond. Handling deadly weaponry like harpoons, spears, and all sorts of guns varying in size and shape now come second nature, and you hardly miss a target - moving, or not.

Your great-grandfather is impressed with your improvement, and one day entrusts you to his plan. Upon hearing it, you must admit it is pretty good. For somewhere deep beneath the seemingly-serene waves of the ocean was a terrible instrument of destruction that was so powerful, it succeeded in eliminating a whole city of monsters. He was eager to find it, lure the monsters with an enjoyable cruise on their boat, and then watch as they were destroyed in their final destination. You nod in approval when he is done explaining, and the work starts. His job is to pinpoint the location of Atlantis's lost City and arrange the cruise bookings once found. Your job is to refine your training, and truly learn how to captain the Legacy. With everything you had to learn, it really is no problem at all. You even get some practice captaining for human cruises with much success. Then one day, as you throw knives at a worned poster of Dracula, your great-grandfather bursts into the room and announces that the commercial for the cruise has aired to monster audiences all over the world - Transylvania, included. In response, you throw your knife at the poster with more force and grin. The blade lands a direct hit in the forehead.

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Finally, after decades of planning and careful preparations, the plan is put into action. Scores of monsters clamored aboard the Legacy that warm summer night, their growls and roars of excitement ringing in the air. You make your presence known once everyone is settled on the deck, greeting them all with an act of great enthusiasm. It works, you think, as no one suspects a thing from your convincing behavior. It is when you start strolling casually on the deck waving to the newcomers that you see him, and there is no doubt in your mind that it is the dreaded vampire your great-grandfather is after. He's just as terrible as you were told, with a whitewashed excuse for skin and sharp, ivory fangs that poke out noticeably from the inside of his mouth. Hmph. So this is the great Count Dracula? you think, as you are reluctantly doing your best to sound as welcoming as possible. Him and his foul friends didn't deserve such cordiality. It disgusts you to think that he is probably salivating just imagining the many different ways to sink his teeth into your neck. You try not to let it bother you, though. Because in the end, you know his days - along with every other monster aboard the Legacy - are numbered.

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Your first attempts at killing him end badly, and put your archery skills to shame. The flare misses his head, as does the lifeboat and crate you try to swing his way. You can't be too surprised, you suppose. Your great-grandfather did tell you he was a slippery one. How else would he have been able to exhaust generation after generation of Van Helsings? Your scowl deepens even more as you see him prancing about with a dream-like grin on his face. What was he so happy about? Perhaps content with the knowledge that he would soon pick up a human snack on board. But you won't let him, not if you had anything to say about it.

A short time passes, and a string of profanities flies from your lips in rapid succession after the wooden spears fail to stake him during the stop at the scuba-diving site. What's worse is that your cover was almost blown, and the need to escape the fish-like submarine had cut your time short from finishing the job. You're still seething from anger when a few voices on the deck catch your attention. Stopping short, you hear his friends ask him if he is going to ask you out. Making a face, you're grateful that you are out of view from any onlookers. Dracula wants to date you? It's sickening to think of. There was no time, even in your excitable teenage years, to even ponder the thought of romance. A boyfriend would only mean a distraction to her mission. Besides, who wanted to be forced to make small talk about trivial things all alone on a date? And then the key word clicks in your head. Alone. You would have him right where you wanted him - alone, without friends or family there to protect him. You smile darkly at the thought. So, he wants to have you for dinner, eh? Well, two could play at that game.

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Dinner that night, takes several unexpected turns, to say in the least. Your plan, of course, fails once again. He survives your garlic-laced guacamole, much to your agitation. But, what he says next, strikes a chord within you. Dracula was a widower, the black-haired girl that had boarded with him being his daughter. The girl grew up without a mother, much like how you grew up without your mom or dad. It touches you, really. You never had real parents per say, and your great-grandfather was never one to inform you on who they were. A part of you feels a little bad for the Count, too, burdened with the task of raising his daughter by himself and hoping that she would do him proud. A task, not unlike the one your great-grandfather is taking with you. You suddenly feel the weight of the family legacy upon your shoulders and, while Dracula may not entirely know what is up your sleeve, he still sympathizes, assuring that it is possible to make your own future. The words sink in, and they feel freeing. You look up at him, and suddenly feel a pull, a strong urge to close the gap between the two of your faces. Is it a hypnotic force? You don't see any telltale signs. Whatever it is, you find yourself not caring as you lean in and await his lips to meet yours...

And then, your trance is broken abruptly at the arrival of a new and accusatory voice. The two of you break apart from your bubble, looking up to find the black-haired girl staring them down with heavy suspicion in her steely blue eyes. You're grateful for the interruption, realizing only now with a panic what you were about to do. Occupied with his daughter, you quickly excuse yourself from Dracula and spend the oncoming daylight hours in a state of numbness. An gravelly voice suddenly startles you from your thoughts as an accompanying head pokes out from one of the ship's ventilation pipes.

"Ericka!" your great-grandfather yells out in a demanding tone. "And where have you been, young lady?"

"Well, uh, doing work," you explain quickly, though the excuse is a poor one as he regards your outfit.

"Wearing that?" He shakes his head. "You were with him! I know it!"

"Who?" you ask, hoping he would dismiss it after playing dumb.

It doesn't work. "Who?! You know who! You've been sneaking around my back and trying to kill Dracula again, haven't you?!"

The accusations make you snap. "So what if I have?! I am a GROWN WOMAN. I have a right to kill whoever I want!"

Great-grandfather shrinks back a bit at your explosion, and more calmly continues. "It's not just about you. You could have ruined the legacy! What if he discovered who you really were?"

Your fists clench in growing agitation. "I know, I know. I wasn't thinking. There's just something about him that drives me CRAZY! I see him and I want to - !"

"Punch him?"

"Uhhh.... I guess...." You falter a bit at your great-grandfather's suggestion. Punch him? No. I was only about to kiss him a few hours ago, that's all, you think with a shudder. What the heck is wrong with you? If your great-grandfather could hear your thoughts, he'd certainly have a cow.

"I can't wait to get this over with!" you cry out in lament, and it couldn't be more true. This vampire is simply driving you crazy.

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The next day passes in a strange sort of blur. It looks to be an easier one at first, as the monsters guests would be too occupied by the entertainment Atlantis had to offer to take any particular notice of you crawling into the abandoned depths of the City that were left behind. You eventually see your object of desire - a stony tentacle-shaped thing that matches the stencil inside your great-grandfather's book - and begin to step toward it. Things seem to happen all at once now - you see an axe hurdling straight toward you from a place on the wall, but never feel the slice of the blade crush your skull open. No, you are not made a fresh corpse, but rather spared that ill-fate from the arrival of Count Dracula himself. You're too shaken to be any kind of mad, even when he makes up a poor excuse of future-predicting powers to explain off why he'd trailed after you in the first place. If anything, you are confused. Dracula had gone out of his way to save a human. If he had been following this whole time, he could have waited for the axe - or any of the booby traps for that matter - to do its job before he came up to your lifeless body and drained it of its blood. But he hadn't, and that's what doesn't make sense. Dracula was the enemy, or so your great-grandfather had always told you so. He was responsible for the defeats of your ancestors. So, why is it that you're feeling so guilty? From all the stories you were told, he had sounded like a remorseless killer who enjoyed bringing his victims pain. But, then you remember how he proceeded to save you from the flying axes, and how harmonious the two of you then were when gliding across toward the top of the trap-riddled staircase like a couple of graceful dancers. You remember looking into his eyes, blue like the ocean and calm like its waters, and thinking just how amiable he looked in that moment, regardless of the arrows and snakes that riddled his body. And then, you stiffen once more as you recall what he had confessed after his daughter - Mavis, was it? - had invaded their moment of privacy. Dracula, the Prince of Darkness, is in love with you. You of all people! He had never had an interest in feasting on your blood. He didn't want to kill you, he wanted to kiss you. He didn't want to harm you, he wanted to hold you. The irony of it all would be laughable if it wasn't for the circumstances, and for that matter, your own mixed feelings. "You don't understand!" you had said, desperately biting back the urge to confess everything to him about your true identity right there and then. "I could never be with someone like you!"

You felt like crying afterward, for the words were nothing short of a lie. You most certainly could be with someone like him. Someone who was kind-hearted and caring, who wanted nothing more than the best for his family. But, ultimately being who he is, and being who you are, fate just seemed to make it impossible.

Later on, you feel a cold pool of dread pit itself in your stomach as you begrudgingly open the door of the secret chamber and find your great-grandfather already standing at the frame with an expectant look on his elderly face.

"Ha! You got it!" he says in greeting.

"Yes," you reply, feeling a bit surprised at how soft your voice sounds. A few days ago, you probably would have matched your great-grandfather's enthusiasm as he hastily snatches the bag from your fingers and examines the tentacled stone object within. He says something about the 'instrument of destruction' and the family legacy, but you ignore him, lost in your own mess of thoughts. Second thoughts about this whole ordeal, and whether or not you wanted to be a part of it anymore.

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The Kraken screeches in a terrifying fury as its tentacles swipe at the fleeing monsters below. You recognized some of them - the Mummy frantically scooping the glow-stick-riddled Invisible Man out of the way, the crab-handed Frankenstein as he and his wife ran about - but none of them stand out as much as Dracula. He tries to fly toward the creature to stop it, but the power of the instrument of destruction is no match when up against the hypnotized Kraken. The sea monster easily overpowers both him and his daughter who attempts to come to his aid. Your great-grandfather cackles maniacally as the tentacles wrap tightly around the vampire.

Your heart clenches at the sight of him being suffocated, unable to escape, and unable to break free from the doom that now befell him. Your great-grandfather seems to have no problem at all, but you beg to differ. You know where you stand now, and this wasn't right at all. It was wrong, wrong, wrong! Without a second thought, you rush in to save him - your Zing.

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When all was said and done, you know you made the right choice. The choice to spare Dracula his life in favor of starting a new beginning with him, or, a new legacy as you put it. And each day that followed the events of the cruise has him showing you just how much he loves you. With every timid hand-hold. With every warm embrace. With his nerve-wracking marriage proposal, that inevitably led up to your first kiss. You are more than relieved when you find that his friends are actually very supportive of you, and you've taken a liking to the girl group that was composed of their wives. Even more thrilling is how well you've gotten along with Dracula's daughter, Mavis. To your pleasant surprise, she actually likes you. Sure, there was some hesitancy at first on both your ends (of course, it's not easy to forget how your goal once was death upon the girl's father), but with time you put it in the past and really get to know each other. You know her dad sees something different in you, and soon enough it seems that she came to see it too. Mavis was a delightful and dedicated girl, and you find that you very much enjoy her company. She was there now, helping to adjust the veil that sat snugly atop your head.

You blush as you take in the rest of your attire. The white color of the outfit was nothing new to you, but what its significance meant did. For it was a wedding dress, an article of clothing that you never once fathomed wearing at any point in your life. And, much less was the thought that you would be using it to marry the one man that - only a few months prior - you had been so bent on destroying upon his first arrival aboard the Legacy. You sigh wistfully, knowing that it was all history now. You and your great-grandfather have seen the error of your ways, and learned to make amends with the monsters. Despite his strong disapproval at your relationship with the vampire before, you can see pride in his eyes as he walks - er, wheels - you down the aisle and up to the altar where your attractive groom awaits.

Everyone is there and, as weddings were of no foreign matter to the hotel, everything goes according to plan. Tears well in eyes and cheers erupt as the crowd hears the pronouncing of your union.

And it's there, pressing your lips tenderly against the Count's, that it is confirmed in your head once more. There's no denying it - you love him. You love his handsome pale face and that dashing smile that shows off his fangs. You love it later on that day when he runs those same fangs teasingly across your neck during what would be the first of many intimate moments together, knowing he would never use them to harm you in any way. You lay, exhausted but beyond satisfied in his strong embrace afterward, bare limbs intertwined with his as he holds you close and mumbles sweet nothings into your ear. In the midst of your delightful soreness, you grin, knowing that he loves you, too. It's crazy to think, with all that happened before that in some way led to this now. But, in pure honesty, you couldn't be more pleased.