Isaac did fare better. He reveled in his ability to cheat death, and even to avoid some simple extra marks on his artistically chiseled body. That certainly gave his innocent devil friends less medical work to do later, just as it swelled the pride in him that was already larger than his body.
He followed alongside Hector splendidly as the two progressed through the castle towards the Alchemy lab, where Isaac intended to harass Hector, find creative new ideas for weapons, and harass Hector some more.
“Yes, I, too, am pleased to see that you are more gouged that I am.” He was elated as he eyed Hector up and down. “Behold how simply miserable you are! I adore that look on you~” Isaac’s meaning in life was to annoy his fellow Devil Forgemaster, which is exactly why every word that came out of his mouth then was so sweet on his tongue.
He stopped in his tracks just then. Across from them in the same hallway the two generals had just stepped in was a man far higher in ranking than them. The Prince. Isaac’s skin began to prickle.
This was a mess. This was a horrid mess. She had to fix this, and quickly, before anyone noticed the son of their dark lord had been possessed. Swiftly, Alucard moved down the dim candle-lit hall; cloak and hair flowing about behind him with such elegance, such grace. Every movement he made was almost as if it had been perfectly planned–
And then his boot hit a snag in the rug on the floor and he tripped, hopping forward on one foot, arms wiggling out at his sides, to catch his balance. Which he did, rather quickly, and he snapped to attention before his head whipped about. No one saw that, did they? The prince was always so elegant in his movements, no one ever saw him trip or fumble. Surely, if they saw him trip now, they would know something was up, they would sense the magic at play, THEY WOULD KILL HER.
Thankfully, there was no one in sight, not even one of those weird Medusa heads that so often floated through the halls. With a brief sigh of relief, Alucard eased greatly, even slouched. He placed a hand to his chest, as thought to calm his rapid beating heart. This nightmare was nearly over, the laboratory of the alchemist was just up the hallway.
… And then. Voices. Two voices. Two male voices. Footfalls. Heeled footfalls. Alucard tensed again, then turned. He had stumbled out in front of another corridor that connected to the hall he was currently standing in. And there, approaching him was none other than Dracula’s Generals.
He froze, eyes snapping wide. Of all the people that could find her and the prince in such a predicament; it was these two. The two Generals of Dracula. The two most desirable bachelors among succubi. The two guys who were more than capable of killing her.
Alucard stood there, completely stiff with fear. How should she react to seeing them? Would the prince even greet them?
So he just stood there. Staring like a deer in headlights.
Dark energy flooded Hector’s senses long before he spied Alucard amongst the shadows, and the sound of Isaac’s voice became a distant memory. Magic stirred in his chest, burning through his blood like adrenaline. The fine hairs along his arms and the nape of his neck lifted, skin pebbled in goosebumps. The pain in his shoulder, his bout of self-loathing, both abated. For now, at least.
Devil forgemasters held high esteem in Dracula’s castle, enjoying lavish accommodations and dominion over every creature, demon, spirit, and human dwelling behind its black walls – save for the royal family. Hector had the authority to torture and dispose of any being that disobeyed or sought to harm him. Alucard and Dracula had the authority to torture and dispose of him purely on a whim.
And so, without missing a beat, Hector bowed his head and genuflected, not bothering to wait for his companion to join him. A few voices snorted in the back of his skull. Others praised him, reminding him that such initiative was partly why Dracula favored him over Isaac. He ignored them all. “My prince, you honor us with your presence.”
Like he and Isaac, a distinct aura shadowed Dracula’s son, able to be sensed and tracked by anyone that carried magic. Only, as Hector lifted his head and straightened, he sensed a fourth presence lurking somewhere in the room, unseen yet seeing all. His hand ached for the hilt of his sword. Half for the comfort it offered, half in anticipation of a fight.
He glanced to Isaac then, the suspicious look in his eyes raising a question to which he already knew the answer. But by the time he turned his attention back to Alucard, he’d donned his mask, his expression and voice as cool and collected as ever. “I trust this night finds you well?”
turnnoffyourmind
dededos
theartofmadeline
titsay
2087
