The Van Helsing Conjecture – Excerpt No. 164

21 February 2025

Clara remembered being a hunter for at least a decade. She served as a nurse in the Great War and by now would have been hunting on her own.

At this age, Clara had several kills under her belt. She lost track of the amount of times she nearly died. Death from exposure, evisceration, immolation, or from torture for information she never knew.

“I never looked this rough,” Clara said. “Even after hoofing it all night at some clip joint.”

It was said that prostitution was the world’s oldest profession… It clearly doesn’t pay enough here to live a comfortable life…

A moody, cinematic photograph of a downtrodden prostitute, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of a vintage gaslight lamp, set against the dark, misty backdrop of a Canadian city during a dreary evening in 1915. Her weary, heart-shaped face, with sunken eyes and a downturned mouth, conveys a deep sense of desperation and hopelessness, as rainwater drips from the brim of her tattered, wide-brimmed hat, and her worn, long coat clings to her frail figure. The gaslight lamp casts a faint, golden light on the wet cobblestone street, while the rain-soaked atmosphere is heavy with the scent of smoke and despair. Her skin is pale, with a subtle, bluish undertone, and her dark hair is disheveled, framing her exhausted features. The overall mood is one of desolation, loneliness, and urban decay.

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.