The moment the door to the stables clicked, one of N’s ears swiveled towards it. He kept his perch on the stable’s railing, a hand still on his new friend’s nose as his eyes slid towards the clicking lock. Dimitri had mentioned company... hopefully he had mentioned it to the newcomer as well.
Even with the promise of civility and a new friend to stay his nerve, N still found himself reflexively hunkering down a touch, trying to hide in a hood that was no longer there.
You should be nicer to the man who saved your best friend's life castlevania!N
“He’s been nothing but callous to her ever since, calling her some ‘danger’ to other people and acting like she’s not even a person but some monster in need of isolation from other people. That and he’s been trying to drive me away ever since I told him I was her friend.
“... he reminds me of... that man... and I can’t get the parallels out of my head. I can only pray history won’t go the same direction with Alice as it did to me.”
In which I already have an AU planned for TrevCard because I am trash.
Trevor ignored the clash of alarm bells shrilling in his head and darted for the familiar vampire. He could nearly hear Sypha’s shout of warning but, he was tired. Tired of living in a walled city. Tired of knowing what it was the vampires intended for the rest of them. Simply fuck all tired.
For his part, Alucard only sidestepped Trevor’s headlong dash.
Bloody peacock, he thought briefly before pain bloomed and it all went black.
~~*~~
“Was that truly necessary?”
Trevor squinted, his head throbbing. Ah, so he’d not imagined it. He really had tried to take out the vampire lord of Gresit. He was almost proud of that. He worked his jaw, taking the silent moment as a chance to ground himself. He was indoors - likely Lord Alucard’s keep - with manacles bright and hard on his wrists.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Alucard, standing before an empty fireplace, lifted a brow. “In case you were unaware, I was trying to aid you.”
Trevor glared at the vampire, the back of his head still buzzing but his vision had finally stopped jumping. “Figured you were fighting over table scraps.”
The elegant brow dropped into an answering glare. “I have no need to feed in such a manner.”
Trevor lifted his hands in false placation, chains singing. “Oh, my apologies, Great Lord.” He reached up and pulled aside the collar of his shirt. “I am ever so grateful for your intercession . . . please sup of my life.”
Alucard recoiled. “You are a horrid little man.”
He grinned and dropped his hands. “It’s a gift.” He folded his arms before him, leaning against the wall he was chained to. “So, what now, O’ Lord?” It likely wasn’t wise to continue taunting the vampire who had him imprisoned, but he’d never been one to go meekly into the night.
Again the distasteful look. “You can try civility, for one.”
Trevor’s chains jangled as he held up his hands again. “Oh, sorry I’m not currently licking your boots but you’re all the way over there and I’m a bit tied up at the moment.” He dropped his arms and stretched out his legs, taking another chance to look around.
Not a dank dungeon. Private rooms. Dark woods and luxuriant furs. He knew what that meant. Rage bubbled in his gut and he sat up, restraints biting into his wrists. “Am I a pet now?” he snarled.
The vampire began to pace, steps slow and deliberate. “Hardly. I’d neuter you before considering such an option.” He didn’t react to Trevor’s bark of sour humor. “Why were you there? That district is vampire only.”
“Is it?” Trevor leaned back again and scratched his jaw. “Must’ve taken a wrong turn.” Sypha had located old maps of Gresit and while they’d seen better days, there were hints of tunnels. Old escape routes against sieges. A vampire siege works, he mused. He’d taken what few markings they’d recognized and attempted to scout a small courtyard when the other vampire had cornered him and attacked. He’d nearly proven Sypha’s assumptions correct but thanks to a fanged bastard, he was hip deep in shit with no clear way out.
Alucard clearly didn’t buy his excuse. “You were looking for something. What was it?”
“A place to shit.”
The vampire’s nose wrinkled. “Do you always speak this way?”
“Only when I’m in a good mood.”
“What fortune,” Alucard muttered, eyes narrow. Still he paced, the fingers of one hand curled against his chin, the other cupping his elbow.
Trevor watched, wary and admittedly confused. Not many saw the Lord of Gresit. It had been only five years since the cull and other than the initial ceremony installing the vampire, he made few if any appearances. One would think the city less controlled given that but his role as the son of Dracula, was a better deterrent than the thick metal studded walls ringing the small city. Even Trevor had avoided the idea. While he was more than willing to die fighting a vampire, as the last Belmont, he wasn’t about the throw away the chance to escape to the old manor on a suicide run.
At least, not yet.
“Now what?” he repeated, his voice sharper. He’d wisely left the whip behind with Sypha but his hands itched for the old leather.
“A very good question,” Alucard murmured, seemingly to himself. He stopped his pacing and faced Trevor. “What is your name?”
“Entree.”
The vampire bared his teeth. “Cease this at once! I cannot help you if you do not extend the same!” The golden eyes darkened, a tinge of red deepening the color to a hearth’s fire. “Your. Name.”
“Help me?” Trevor scoffed, ignoring the demand. “How is chaining me to your wall helping me?”
“It’s necessary for my own protection; I asked you a question.”
“And I’m not answering it; didn’t think you that dense.”
Alucard’s hands clenched and his eyes flared. In a beat, he towered before Trevor, the red aura burning away. He reached out and grabbed Trevor by the crown of his head, fingers tight in his hair. “I will not ask again.”
Trevor winced at the spark of pain, his headache returning. He gripped Alucard’s forearm, grimacing. “Trevor,” he spat.
The vampire’s fingers loosened but didn’t fully release Trevor. “No family name?”
“None that you need to know,” Trevor snapped. The second he mentioned the Belmont name, he’d be dead. If he could simply get loose from his chains, he could escape. While it was playing with literal fire to keep refusing the vampire lord, Trevor felt it a better course of action than rolling over.
“Former human nobility then,” Alucard mused. He released Trevor and returned to his position by the cold fireplace. “I thought the nobles were all taken to my fa-Lord Dracula’s castle.”
Interesting. Trevor rubbed his scalp, skin still smarting. “It pays to be a black sheep.”
“Now, that is the first thing you have said that I believe.” Alcuard folded his hands at the small of his back. “Very well. Until you are more . . . forthcoming, I will take my leave.” He walked off, boots silenced by the thick floor coverings. “I will have a servant bring up something for you.”
The door shut and the snick of the lock echoed in Trevor’s head. He looked at his wrists, the metal bounding them bright and clean, no lock or seam to be found.
Wow ok this took a long time. Trying to get back to updating more frequently though. If it’s any consolation this chapter is very long.
As always, also here on ao3.
When Dracula exited the portal he stopped short; were it not for lack of breath he would have gasped in surprise. He stood in what could only be a spacious hallway of his old castle, unchanged by time or man. It was as if he had passed into his slumber only yesterday; the stones still untouched. He walked cautiously down the hall, noting that the apparition of his son had vanished. He could not see any signs of a trap, nor indeed any sign of life save for himself. The very air was stilled, save for a light breeze from a nearby doorway. He walked through it and found himself on a vast balcony, and he paused once more at the sight before him.
The entire castle lay spread out below, unmarred and whole. He tried to understand, how could this possibly be? Had he been somehow transported back through the centuries, or was this simply an illusion of some sort, or a dream within his own fractured mind? Whatever the case, the city that had overwhelmed his domain was gone, and he was alone in his lifeless kingdom once more.
Was this what the apparition had meant? It offered to help him recover his sword, but he hardly thought it meant to retrieve the weapon from the past! Unless this was not truly happening as he saw it, merely a trick of his perception. In any case that possibility didn’t trouble him overmuch; at least here he could see his son again, if only as a passing spirit. If he could find where the boy had gone, that is…
He left the balcony for another long corridor, this one as still and empty as the first. This was beginning to seem a bit odd, as the castle had always been teeming with creatures of all sorts, all monstrous beings groveling for the protection of the castle’s master. In another life he would have slain them all, but as it was he at worst felt nothing but contempt for them, and at times he even pitied them; he was not so proud he could not recognize that their tragedy was not so dissimilar to his own. At any rate they were good for thinning out the incessant tide of knights and warriors foolhardy enough to try their hand at defeating him. Were the castle always as vacant as it now seemed to be he’d have had no respite from them.
Now the silence began to unnerve him, seeming not so much an absence as a fragile thing under great pressure and in imminent danger of snapping apart. As soon as this thought came upon him he felt a tremor run through the marble beneath his feet, rumbling up through the floor until it began to crack and cave in around him. He ran, feet struggling for resistance against the collapsing stones. A great expanse gave way before him and he jumped, claws scrabbling out a handhold and regaining his footing on the other side. He kept jumping and climbing forward, now aware of a cacophony of voices echoing through the tumult of falling stone. He clung to a descending pillar and jumped, landing hard on his side on the last patch of solid floor at the end of the hall. The cracking and crumbling below and behind faded away, and the voices with it, and he could barely make out what seemed to be a desperate pleading before silence rushed in again.
He dragged himself to his feet, perturbed by the return to absolute silence. He looked back over the gap that had once been the corridor. If anything the sharp but quickly ebbing pain from his ungraceful landing seemed to be proof that this was no fantasy. He would have to be careful; there were denizens of the castle he’d rather not face in his current state.
If the building itself didn’t do him in first.
The hallway led into an expansive and deteriorated ballroom, its lofty ceiling hung with chandeliers. Here and there parts of the walls and balconies had collapsed into rubble on the lower floor, rather spoiling the grandeur of what had once been an opulent space. Not that he’d ever made much use of it; if there were any creatures waltzing about the space he was mercifully unaware of it. He was thankful at least that this room was exempt from the tense silence that hung over the rest of the castle- here the sound of water echoed from the edges of the room. He smirked to himself; he knew now where the vision of his boy had led him. The chill of void magic was almost as strong as the rumble of the waterfalls; his sword couldn’t be far.
As he strode into the center of the room, though, the creeping unease he had felt earlier in the castle came upon him again, as the feeling of invisible eyes watching, intangible hands grasping at him. He paused. Then the thunderous rumble from before began again, and he braced himself for the collapse, only to find the shifting was above his feet- the piles of rubble around him rising up of their own accord, no, borne upward by a surging torrent of blood. These pieces of stone knit themselves together with bloody mortar into a colossus with a one-winged cherub for a head. From the demonically angelic face glowed a cold blue light- his void magic trapped within the creature.
He stared up at the monster and grimaced, annoyed but undaunted. If his very castle was to defy him now, so be it; he had conquered these spirits before, and it would be little trouble to do so again. He summoned his blood whip and squared his stance as the massive stone feet took their first steps.
It wailed as it approached, swinging a monolithic fist towards him. The vampire dodged just in time, caught off guard by the return of the tumult of voices. Now there was no falling stone to muffle them, and he heard clearly a thousand pleading voices calling for his surrender, his return to this empty castle as ruler. He answered their cries with the whistling arc of his whip, cutting through the stolen blood binding the stones.
The colossus roared as it was attacked, pounding the ground and casting out waves of noxious blood that almost overwhelmed its former master. He leapt up to strike the creature’s cherubic face, knocking more blood from between the stones but failing to dislodge the glowing gem. All the while the voices shrieked in chorus not from the stone, but from the blood itself, coiling into his very being. He snarled and launched himself at the beast in a desperate bid for silence, tearing into the stones themselves.
This was too much for the colossus. With a final wrenching wail the stones began to crumble away, the blood dissolving back into the castle. He approached the fallen cherub’s head, and with a quick movement snapped the gem from its eye socket. He felt a rushing, biting cold wash over him as the void power returned to its master, the orb dissolving into nothingness. With another gesture he willed his blade into existence, smirking at the familiar weight in his palm. Though he was still nowhere near his former strength, this was certainly a fine start.
Suddenly a flash of movement from one of the upper balconies caught his eye. There stood the vision of his son once more, staring down at him for a moment with an unreadable expression before turning and running off through a doorway. Dracula watched him go, frozen for a moment, before making to follow. The stairs to the upper floor had long fallen away, but the waterfalls still flowed from the ceiling. With a wave of his sword these were frozen, giving the vampire something to dig his claws into and clamber up to where his boy had disappeared.
He hurried through the doorway but stopped still when he noticed his son was not alone. Before him stood a tall, pale demon that had in previous years been one of his soldiers. Now he saw only the monster menacing his son; he surged toward the pair, hastily putting himself between Baelfire and the demon.
"Stop." He growled, all the cold fury of the void in his voice.
"My- my lord!" The demon started back, quickly and gracelessly kneeling before him. He sneered down at it with hatred.
"This boy is under my protection. You. Will. Not. Harm. Him."
The demon looked up at this, seemingly surprised. It looked from the vampire to the boy sheltered behind him and back again, auxiliary mandibles flapping with the movement. Then it rose again to its full height, returning its master’s look of disdain.
"You are not our lord anymore." It growled with disgust. Dracula barely had time to raise his sword before it rushed at him.
He parried the attack easily enough, concentrating on keeping his son shielded from the sweeping blows. The creature was not particularly strong, but it was fast enough and skilled enough at blocking to keep him from instantly dispatching it. He kept himself close to the demon as he dared, searching for an opening to shove his blade into his opponent.
"Father!" Baelfire’s voice from behind made him jerk slightly, enough of an opportunity for the demon to carve a deep gash into his shoulder, knocking him off his feet. As he recovered he swung himself around to see another demon had appeared, far too close to his son. He threw himself at the newcomer with a cry, casting the beast away with such force it hit the ground, giving him a chance to fall upon it, fangs in its neck and mouth drenched in foul blood.
This creature so dealt with, he turned back to the first demon, eyes wide with fear as he saw it hurtling toward Baelfire. He leapt forward sword first, pushing his boy aside and driving the blade into the demon. The creature shuddered as ice crept from the wound in its chest, stilling into a frozen corpse. He pulled the blade from the body and turned back to his son.
The boy stood in the center of the room, his clothes and hair disheveled from the fight and slightly splattered with demon blood, but otherwise unharmed. The vampire banished his sword and walked carefully over to him.
"Bae-" he began, but his son cut him off with a gesture.
"No time for that now- I wanted to give you this." He pulled a large medallion from his tunic and handed it to his father. "If you ever need me, just use this and I will find you."
The vampire stood frozen; he could only nod at the boy. He was once more struck by the impossibility of the situation, not only that he had apparently traveled backward in time, but that his son should be here and in this form, while he still recalled vividly their last meeting. No, as much as he would have liked to believe this was real, he knew it could be little more than some thirst or weakness induced hallucination. Or perhaps he was simply going mad again.
A surprisingly strong tug on his hand shook him from his contemplation. He looked down to see Baelfire- or the illusion of him- staring just as fixedly at him.
"Well come on; we need to get you back." He released his grip and ran on ahead, disappearing through another shadowed doorway before the other could see where he’d gone. "Follow me." The boy’s voice echoed strangely in the room.
The vampire made to run after him, but found the alcove into which Baelfire had run little more than a dark recess in the stone leading to a solid wall. Well. Definitely a hallucination then. But then how was he meant to follow? A sudden thought struck him, and he examined the medallion that his son had given him. A white wolf’s head gazed back at him from the metal disk. How exactly was he meant to use this?
His question was answered as he wandered back over to the center of the room, the floor of which he now noted was emblazoned with the same insignia as the medallion. As he watched transfixed the floor began to glow in the presence of the artifact, and as the last of the shimmering light died away he heard a haunting howl from the upper floor of the room. He turned to see a great white wolf standing on one of the platforms. The beast eyed him curiously for a moment before turning and gesturing with its furry head to a large archway behind it.
The vampire wasted no time in following the creature’s lead, clambering up the stones to meet it. He cautiously reached out a hand to the wolf, and the beast gently nudged it with its head, obligingly allowing the vampire to scratch its ear. Then the wolf pulled away and made for the archway again, silently beckoning Dracula to follow.
—————-
Night seemed to fall too quickly, or perhaps it was that the dawn had never truly come to the city. Thick, almost noxious clouds hung low enough to scrape themselves open on the tallest buildings, and through this gloom the sun could not penetrate. Below the clouds the air hung heavy and still, the tense calm before a great storm. Belle shuddered. Something was happening, some great evil was stirring in the city, and she was unsure they would rise to meet it.
She shook the trepidation from her mind. What would happen would, and all she could do was fight, as she always had. She only hoped she would not have to do so alone.
"About time we headed out, don’t you think?" Gaston’s voice startled and at the same time reassuring her. "The sun’s just about to set, I think."
"Hm. It’s hard to tell through the clouds. Do you think that means anything?"
"Nothing I’d want to think too much about." Gaston made a face. "Well, I’m sure it’s nothing your vampire friend can’t handle."
"If we find him." Belle reminded him. She didn’t want to think too much about what should happen if they couldn’t find him, or worse if he was not longer in any state to be found.
"Hey. If there’s anyone in the Brotherhood I’d think could track down the Prince of Darkness it’s you. I mean, you dragged him out in the first place after what- a thousand years?"
"Gaston, whoever took him had to have been stronger than he was, if they still have him, well-"
"It’s going to be one hell of a fight?"
"Literally, probably."
The two continued to banter back and forth as they left the apartment and made their way to the business district. The streets were almost unnaturally empty, as if the populace had hidden themselves away from the sinister air. Every now and again the pair started at some movement or noise down an alley, though they found no demons there. Belle shifted uneasily. She couldn’t shake the sensation of something stronger than human eyes on her back.
At last they reached the building where Belle had seen the shadow of Dracula’s captor disappear. The building seemed even taller and more bleak now, with dark clouds shrouding its peak. Before they reached the building proper, however, Belle froze as a chill sensation washed over her. She felt a great rushing all about her, like a great wind flowing through the streets. After a moment she recognized the feeling: there was strong magic here, magic not dissimilar from what she had seen the elders of the Brotherhood make use of, though much darker and more powerful.
She felt it flow from the great building like energy waves, coiling around her and off into the night. This meant something, she could feel it. Gaston, meanwhile, had only taken a few steps before he notice his colleague frozen behind him.
"Belle? Something wrong?"
"I can feel something. Something or someone in that building is sending out a signal- a powerful one."
"And that means…?"
"It means whoever is doing this might have something to do with what’s going on in the city. This is dark magic… Whatever it’s going to do isn’t good. We have to stop it."
"Uh, Belle? We don’t even know what this is. This might be way too much for us to handle; we can’t just go rushing in-"
"If we don’t who will? Something’s going to happen tonight and I know this is connected to it somehow. If we head it off now we might be able to stop it, or at least delay it for a while…"
"What about Dracula? Shouldn’t we try and get some backup before we go crusading against the forces of darkness?"
Belle considered this. But even as she did she felt the magic surge and coil like a serpent in the air, and it seemed to grow darker still, the clouds creeping lower. Time was running out far too fast.
"I’m not sure we have time. Besides, it’s possible he’s already wherever this magic is flowing to, if that’s going to be the epicenter of all this."
"If he’s the one doing this, you mean."
Belle fell silent. She hadn’t considered that. It seemed unlikely that the vampire could, as the bracelet curbed even the thought of violence against humans. But how did she know he hadn’t found a way around that? In any case it seemed waiting around or searching for him was a luxury they couldn’t afford, not with the darkness in the city growing stronger by the minute.
"Either way, we can’t just let this go. I’m going to follow this signal and see where it goes."
"And when we get there?"
"We shut it down."
"…we’re probably going to die, aren’t we?"
———-
Following the wolf through the archway, Dracula found himself in a great and oppressive darkness. Flashes of red seemed to pulse through it, accompanied by yet more pleading echoes. He tried his best to ignore these, keeping his eyes on his bestial guide. Soon after entering the portal the bloodshot blackness dissolved around him and he found himself back on the walkway where he’d first seen the vision of Baelfire. The wolf was nowhere to be found.
The vampire was almost ready to write the whole incident off as a temporary madness, but for the chill of the void power still coursing through him. With an experimental flick of his wrist he summoned his blade once more before banishing it back whence it came. Well, it seemed regaining his powers wouldn’t be such an impossible task after all.
Past the room of grates and walkways lay a maze of corridors with more guards scattered throughout. He was forced to traverse much of this as a rat, all too often having to switch vessels when he inadvertently scurried into some form of death trap. He swore violently, though this came out only as an irate series of squeaks. If he never saw another electrical wire or ventilation fan again, it would be too soon.
At length he reached the apex of the building, and after gnawing through a few wires- to the loss of another rat- he found his way into the center of the facility, now in possession of a small, white-clad thing which had once been human and still retained that appearance, but for all intents and purposes had given itself entirely over to the demonic. From inside the possessed being Dracula felt a pang of disgust; he’d always felt some disdain for the willingly turned, even as he made use of their groveling forces in his campaigns. Even as he counted himself as one of them.
The vampire shuffled his borrowed feet into a large, circular room, filled mostly by a mass of tanks and tubes about which stirred more humanized demons, the most notable of which was a tall, redheaded woman who seemed to be their leader. Through stolen eyes Dracula regarded her; surely this must be his quarry- Satan’s acolyte.
The demon woman said something to the workers closest to her, and suddenly the massive machine seemed to stir; thick, putrid gas spewed forth from vents in the machinery, engulfing the entire room and spilling out into the night from the open ceiling.
The effects of the gas were immediately apparent. The workers- not human, but still close enough to be affected- began to keel over and retch, and the smell of bile and vomit joined the noxious fumes in the air. Then they began to change, forms shifting and wrenching painfully into grotesque monstrosities, rat-like and ape-like things that shambled forth mindlessly. Dracula’s vessel was spared this torment; the being deteriorated into a mass of blood an viscera the moment the gas rolled over it, leaving the vampire standing exposed before the demons.
Though the gas wrought no effect upon him, it certainly had upon his adversary. Where the beautiful woman had stood, now loomed a wretched creature, all teeth and tentacles, pale green flesh marred by blackened, corrupted sores. Only her voice was the same.
"My, and what have I done to deserve this… Honor?" She smirked, the expression stretching her fanged maw. "The Prince of Darkness himself… I was told you were dead. I must say, you make an exquisite corpse, my dear."
"Do not mock me." The vampire growled, stalking towards the demon. "Now, are you going to come with me quietly, or do we have to do this the hard way?"
"Oh, and here I’d thought a cultured man like you would have some tact…" She grinned, impossible mouth gaping wider. "And I always prefer hard, lovely."
He snarled at the demon, fangs bared and bloody, but far from discouraging the demon’s advances only seemed to entice her further. She actually laughed, a bizarre tinkling noise that seemed uncanny coming from her maw.
"Oh, you are cute." Then without warning she launched herself at him, grabbing the vampire by the neck and tossing him aside with such force that he smashed through the wall. He landed hard on the grating beyond, all manner of broken glass, metal, and shredded wires still bristling with electricity surrounding him. From her perch in the gaping hole behind, the demon laughed again.
"Oh my, you really aren’t putting up much of a fight, are you?"
"The battle hasn’t started yet, hellbitch." Dracula couldn’t help but snarl back, rising up and drawing his sword forth from the void.
"That’s a nice trick." She smiled in a way that would have been sweet on any other face. "Let me show you mine."
She rushed him again, and he barely dodged her grasping claws. She continued to shoot around the room almost too fast to see, and he saw now that it was not so much strength she possessed and unholy speed. Almost in time with his thoughts Zoso’s ethereal voice echoed in his head.
"She’s too fast for you. Find a way to slow her down."
Dracula took half a moment to consider in between dodging the demon’s assault. He looked from her racing form to his freezing sword, then back, and formed a plan. He smirked. He’d have to time this just right…
Just as the demon retreated to make another pass at him, the vampire fired off an icy blast from his sword, hitting the creature square in the chest. She shrieked in rage, vaulting up to cling to the wall. She looked down on him with surprise.
"Oh, that was cold, dear. Still… I do like a man who takes control." She dropped down to the floor again, grabbing up a handful of sparking cables in each claw and thrashing their whipping coils toward him. "Now come on; let’s make this more exciting!"
Again Dracula found himself retreating; for all that the ice had slowed her down the cables had increased her reach. Now, however, the playing field was more even. It was a simple matter to exchange the void sword for his bloody whip and return each arcing electrical pass in kind.
Eventually he the demon slowed once more, not from cold but exhaustion. The vampire saw his chance and struck a final blow with his sword, knocking her unconscious. He would’ve gladly killed her then and there for her insolence, were it not for Zoso’s voice ringing in his ears to retrieve her relatively unharmed. So he grudgingly hefted the demonic woman over his shoulder, and in a flash of green light both vampire and captive vanished.
————-
The almost magnetic pull of the magic drove Belle onward through the streets, though her legs ached from running and her lungs strained for breath. Gaston had fallen somewhat behind her, his presence little more that distant footfalls on the concrete. She was unsure whence came the urgency that rushed through her, only that it bid her ever onward through the streets. Eventually she realized the force was guiding her uphill, to a lofty part of the city just below the hanging clouds.
She paused for a moment at a tall gate that barred her way. Beyond lay a shadowed parking lot, lit only by scattered street lamps whose sickly light filtered down through the gloom. The signal was incredibly strong here; the air seemed to crackle with energy and Belle felt it roving over her skin like static. She had just begun to examine the gate for weaknesses when Gaston finally caught up to her.
"Please tell me this is it." He panted. "I don’t think I’ll be in any shape for fighting demons if you keep me running marathons all night."
"It’s flowing into here; I can feel it." Distantly, she thought she could sense something else as well, an echo of the same calm she’d felt nights ago in Dracula’s church. She shook the thought from her mind; it wouldn’t do to get her hopes up now. "Now we just need to get inside and find out what were dealing with."
"Easier said than done." He stepped back and eyed the gate, assessing its height. "Think you can handle dropping down from the top of there?"
"Yes, why-" Belle cut herself off with a squeak as Gaston hoisted her into the air, bracing her legs on his shoulders until she could pulls herself to the top of the gate. "You could warn me next time."
"And you could’ve run slower." He grinned through the bars.
"Ok, but how are you getting in?"
"Uh…"
Belle sighed heavily.
"Right. Just hold on a minute; I’ll try to find something you can use to climb up."
With that she turned to the empty lot behind her and began searching- both for something to climb or open the gate, and for some means of entry into the building. She’d stopped to examine a loosely rattling metal screen when she heard a pained scream from behind her.
She ran back toward the gate but stopped short. Just beyond the bars, a thick green fog coiled down from the street, engulfing all in its path. She couldn’t see Gaston through the haze, though she could heard the sound of retching and a large body violently pounding the ground.
She crept as near as she dared, carefully avoiding inhaling the toxic smoke as she peered through the bars.
She had no time to draw her weapon before a festering clawed hand shot through the gate, wrenching the bars apart. She jolted backward, slipping on the slick pavement and landing at the feet of the creature that had once been Gaston, now corrupted and deformed by the miasma. It crouched over her, slavering jaws dripping. She frantically searched the black eyes for some sign of recognition. There was none.
With a rattling cry, the demon struck. Belle didn’t have time to scream.
More Castlevania!AU. Again, sorry for the delay between updates. Also here on ao3.
He was unsure of how long he’d been unconscious when he woke. The last he remembered, he’d been cornered by the demon in the alley- the beast was far stronger than he’d anticipated and, he was slowly realizing, more than a match for him in his weakened state. He’d dropped into a blocking stance when the thing charged, sending him flying across the pavement. He hit the ground head first, a sickening crack resounding from his skull. He lifted his swimming gaze to the demon with barely enough strength to remain conscious, just in time to see the creature still suddenly and then split clean in two at its stomach, as though cut by a blade too fast to see. He heard the sound of quickening footsteps just before the darkness claimed him.
He’d no idea what had happened after, but he was certain of one thing: demon, alley, and Belle were all gone, replaced with a hard sculptured couch and a darkened room, a pair of shadowed figures watching him silently. He shifted until he was sitting upright and blinked blearily, thankful that they’d at least left him in his borrowed clothes- the sleeve of which still concealed the bracelet. He’d no desire to reveal his less obvious weaknesses just yet.
"Welcome back, my friend." The familiar voice was like knives in his brain, hateful and scorned. Zoso. The necromancer stepped into the dull lamplight that bathed the room, grinning and infuriatingly the same as the day he’d been cast into oblivion, barring his strange modern clothing. "Not still tired are you? I would think you’d have slept long enough."
"I should have known you couldn’t leave well enough alone. What makes you think abducting me will change my mind about any of this? Did you think if you asked nicely I’d be ready to march to your drum like a puppet?"
"It wouldn’t be the first time, Rum-"
"For the last time, that is not my name! The man with that name died long ago. If you come seeking selfless heroes, look elsewhere."
"This is hardly a matter of selflessness! If Satan returns-"
"Yes, yes, you’ve said this before- world in ruin, mankind devastated, you and I enslaved in hell. Remind me again why I should care? I’d simply be trading out one puppeteer for another, and if it means I get to sate myself on the sight of you as Satan’s lapdog for all eternity, then I’ll consider that a fair price." As he spoke, Dracula grew more and more agitated, jolting from his seat to glare daggers at Zoso as he spat out his last words. Before he could advance any further, the third and armored figure in the room stepped forward, sword drawn and crackling with energy.
“Halt. That will not be necessary, Lieutenant.” Zoso nodded and his minion stepped aside, resheathing his weapon. “
"I told you I was done with this." The vampire snarled.
"I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer, my friend. In any case, I may have something that will persuade you."
"Your head on a pike, perhaps?"
"Hardly. We’ve been through that already, haven’t we? It didn’t take." He chuckled, walking casually over to a small pedestal in the center of the room. "No, what I have to offer you is something much more… Permanent."
"And what are you babbling on about now? I’ve had enough of your riddles, Zoso." Dracula growled.
"I can offer you an end. An end to your eternity of torment, a final peace for what’s left of your soul. I know you seek that above all else, why otherwise would you let countless generations of hunters come to slay you in vain?"
"If you know all that then you should know that none of those deaths "took" either. What makes you think you can offer me this?"
"Because, my friend, I can grant you access to something that none of your would-be executioners had: your old weapon."
He waved his hand above the pedestal and a shimmering image formed in blue light shone upward from its surface, coalescing into a floating replica of his own combat cross, long lost to the depths. Dracula laughed dryly at this.
"You can offer me a picture. We both know the real thing is lost forever in the pits of hell, shattered into pieces. How do you intend to retrieve it?"
"That is for me to know, but I assure you, when Satan’s forces reopen the gates of hell to summon their master, it will be possible to obtain it. Once you’ve used it to defeat the demon once and for all, I shall be more than happy to drive it into your heart."
"As if I’d give you the satisfaction. I’ll reserve that pleasure for myself."
"Is that an agreement, old friend?"
"As much of one as you’ll get." The vampire continued to stare fixedly at the glowing image of the combat cross, his Vampire Killer, his last hope at oblivion. He dared not hope for salvation now. Heaving a sigh, he turned back toward the necromancer. "Where do we start?"
"I’m glad you asked." He waved a hand over the strange pedestal once more and the cross dissolved into digitalized mist, replaced by a much larger image that engulfed the entire plinth. It was a miniaturization of a large and ornate structure not dissimilar, Dracula noted, from a part of his own castle. It seemed that not all of the appropriated city was so separate from its roots.
"What you are looking at is the headquarters of a large pharmaceutical company- I realize that likely means little to you, but all you really need to know is that it is currently run by one of Satan’s acolytes. Your task is simple: find and subdue her so that I may obtain some clearer information about Satan’s return."
"If we can’t stop the demon we’ll at least be prepared for him." Dracula finished.
"Exactly. I trust you will be up to the task, given your… condition?" The vampire tensed, forcing himself not to grab at the concealed bracelet before he realized that Zoso was likely referring to the loss of many of his abilities and relics.
"You needn’t worry, friend," he hissed. "Need I remind you I was still human when I cast your sorry hide back into the depths."
"If she were weaker than I do you think I’d not deal with her myself?" Zoso looked truly grave for the first time in their encounter. "Do be careful. I’d hate to have to track your carcass down again. There is a transporter at the end of this hallway; it will take you where you need to go. I will assist you as best I can, though I warn you my magic has limited power in that place."
"I’ll keep that in mind." He turned at the dismissal, striding down the marble hall toward the ominously glowing pillar at the end. "Don’t worry; I’ll be quick."
———————
Back in her apartment, Belle was studiously if unsuccessfully attempting not to panic. She’d run back to the car after her fruitless chase to thankfully find Gaston still conscious, if dazed and bleeding all over her car interior. At least she’d not had to physically carry him into the apartment- the man was over a foot taller than she, and weighed considerably more than a dried-out vampire. He seemed truly more shaken than anything, the bleeding stemming more from a series of scrapes from landing hard on the concrete than any deeper wounds. She was grateful for that, as her erstwhile houseguest had finished off the blood packets and she didn’t like her chances of retrieving more so soon without attracting suspicion.
Once Gaston was seen to- currently laying across her couch with most of his arms and torso wrapped in gauze- she allowed herself a moment of internal panic for her vampire- not that she considered him “hers”, by any means… but that was a thought better saved for a time when her mind wasn’t currently overloading itself thinking of just who could have spirited him away so easily. She’d barely managed it with him in his most weakened state- whoever the strange armored figure was had been able to take out a powerful demon on top of an enraged Prince of Darkness. To be honest she didn’t like her chances against whatever new force was that powerful.
From the couch, Gaston groaned, and she shook herself from her thoughts to tend to her injured colleague.
"Belle- what happened to the demon? How’d we get back here?"
"The demon’s dead. You passed out in my car and I took you back here. You were kind of delirious for most of it- I think you must’ve hit your head-"
"What happened to your friend? You never did tell me who he really was. Or what."
Damn. So much for passing Dracula’s vampiric powers off as a hallucination.
"He’s not a what… He’s helping me, and he did save your life back there."
"So you knew he wasn’t human then?"
"Of course. Don’t worry though; he can’t hurt anything human. I made sure of that."
"I’m not gonna ask how you managed that one. But since he hasn’t eaten you yet I’m inclined to believe you. So what is he? Not one of those demons in human form, right?"
"No, I thought he might be at first, but…"
"But what?"
"…you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone. I’ve got a plan, and he could be a powerful ally if I can get the information I need from him, but the Brotherhood can’t find out. They’d kill him on sight and he’s no good to me dead."
"Not anything to do with you getting attached to him, then?" Belle glared at him. "Hey, sorry; just joking. But seriously, you know I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to."
"Alright… Well, a couple nights ago- during that bad storm, remember?- I was patrolling near that church…”
She told him the details of her meeting with the vampire, of how she’d not even sensed anything evil in the place until he’d attacked. She told how she’d thought of the bracelet, and of their agreement and his strange acquiescence to it. By the end of her tale Gaston seemed equal parts impressed and horrified.
"So you’re telling me I met Dracula. That the fucking Prince of Darkness and Pain and All Things Evil is living in your apartment?!"
"Was. He’s not here anymore, obviously."
"So what, now he’s off terrorizing the populace? What, you couldn’t keep him around while I was bleeding out or it’d be too tempting?"
"No, nothing like that. After I took you back to the car I ran back into the alley and he was gone; the demon was dead. I saw someone on the roof, carrying a body, and I followed. I wasn’t fast enough to catch them…"
"So now what? Dracula’s been abducted by some mystery shadow force?" He stared blankly at her in disbelief. Belle could only nod. "And now I’m guessing it’s up to us to rescue him."
Another nod.
"Great. Just great. You know, I’d like to go one day without your crazy ideas almost getting me killed in some horrible way."
"Could be worse; you did almost marry me."
"Almost. Thank god." He scrunched himself into as comfortable a position as he could on the tiny couch. "Whose crazy idea was that anyway?"
"My father’s, mostly. Not get some sleep; the sun’s coming up soon, and as soon as night falls, we’re going vampire hunting."
Throwing a bandaged arm across his face as Belle clicked off the light, Gaston groaned.
—————
The glowing portal deposited him in some lofty part of the city, a fenced-in lot overlooking the streets and buildings below. The night air glistened with rain, and the clouds showed only the barest trace of lightening along the eastern horizon, though sunrise was surely imminent. Distantly he wondered if the sky would ever lighten fully again, with Satan’s forces so close at hand. Already the atmosphere seemed heavy with power and anticipation. Or perhaps it was simply the noxious smoke pouring from the towers far above.
At any rate the vampire decided he might as well prepare himself. With a roll of his shoulders he rematerialized his cloak and armor, tearing his borrowed sweater to pieces in the process. He gave the bloodied scraps on the ground a passing grimace before reminding himself that he wasn’t likely to ever see the little knight again, unless she came with a blade to shove into his heart. He smiled, thinking that if there was anyone he’d met in this godforsaken city that he might give that honor to, it might just be her; her bravery and cleverness had certainly earned her his respect.
At that thought he was reminded of the slight weight of the bracelet still encircling his wrist. He could only hope that the acolyte didn’t employ any fully human guards, though given her demonic nature he thought that unlikely.
He paused no longer, shaking off his thoughts, and began attempting to determine just how to gain entry to this modern fortress. He gave his blood whip a few experimental swings, searching for a weak point. Sure enough, the force of the whip was enough to rattle a large metal door in a darkened corner of the lot- unlocked. He pulled the metal loose with little trouble, stepping cautiously into the darkness beyond. He supposed he couldn’t expect Zoso to give him much insight into just what he’d be facing here; no doubt they’d come up with some new and more awful varieties of demon in the centuries he’d been asleep. Sure enough, as he peered around a corner he caught sight of what had to be the most massive guard he’d ever seen, in blood red armor and clutching a an alien weapon he had no desire to be on the receiving end of. Just as he thought this, Zoso’s mocking voice echoed in his ear, reminding him of his own weakness. Still, he had a few tricks up his sleeve yet…
The guard’s heavy footfalls began to shake the hallway behind him, and he ducked into a deeply shadowed alcove to escape. He groped for the vestiges of his once limitless power, felt himself shifting, his form changing in the dark into a more suitable shape.
He emerged as a rat. Well, not exactly fearsome- he swore he could hear Zoso snickering- but ideal for evading large brainless guards. He slipped by the mammoth creature, narrowly avoiding the crush of its boot. Once he met with the closed door behind him, however, he realized another problem. Rats couldn’t open doors.
He noticed another area of shadow behind the guard and rushed into it, resuming his normal shape. He took one look at the guard’s turned back and smirked. This really was too easy… He crept up behind the man and let his consciousness flow into the huge form, filling over the man’s brain like oil over water. The body was clunky and gross, it’s gait ungainly, and he could feel it degrading around him. He had just enough time to make it to the door and activate the unlocking mechanism before the being completely disintegrated. Wiping some of the corrupted, demonic blood off of his armor distastefully, Dracula knew this was going to be a long and gruesome undertaking.
Somewhere across the city, Zoso laughed.
The door opened by the first guard led to two more, and no deep shadows to be seen. He peered over the stack of crates he currently hid behind- god, this was degrading, having to creep about like an animal- and saw a ladder leading to the room beyond. At the top of this, a flock of bats gathered, chittering just above the head of one guard. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too terribly difficult.
With a wave of his hand the vampire gained control of the swarm, sending the whole lot flying rather forcefully into the face of the closest guard. He paused only a moment to smile at the ridiculous flailing this produced before lunging across the room while both guards were distracted by the bats. He’d gained the ladder and jumped to the pipe above- receiving a rather nasty shock in the process- before they noticed him.
The force of the explosive blast from the guard’s weapon sent him flying, smashing him squarely into the metal grating of the adjacent platform. As he scrambled to the nearest shadowed area and narrowly avoided the new volley of shots from below, Dracula began to rethink his assessment of the difficulty of his situation.
Thankfully the guards were exactly as stupid as they looked, and after failing to locate their prey simply assumed he had disintegrated from the force of their weapons and went back to their posts. The vampire above slid down the metal wall and sat on the grating for a bit in an attempt to catch his breath. No, he decided, he didn’t much care for this modern age.
"Need some help?" His head snapped up at the voice, so familiar it ached in his unbeating heart. "Hey, over here!"
He stood and turned toward the sound, a small room to his left, and the impossible sight that met his eyes would have left him breathless were he still in need of breath. Before him stood the dimly glowing figure of his son, dead for what must be nearly a thousand years.
"Baelfire… How- is this real?"
"Never mind that. I can help you. Do you want your sword back or not?"
He didn’t understand, that weapon still remained lost to the ruins of his castle, unless… Unless what he saw now was a spirit sent to guide him to its resting place. Something in him willed it to be true, that his boy in all his unwarranted forgiveness was somehow helping him from beyond the grave. Stranger things had certainly happened. He nodded at his son, still speechless before the apparition.
"Great, then follow me." He turned to walk off into the darkened room, and Dracula followed. What greeted him on the other side of that darkness was something he couldn’t have imagined in a millennium.
Sorry this took so long; finals suck much more than vampires. At any rate, more Castlevania!AU Rumbelle. As always, also here on ao3.
Belle fought back a laugh at the rather indignant noise the vampire had made at her statement, and they drove back to her apartment in silence- hers due to silent amusement, his almost a petulant sulk. At the moment Belle couldn’t believe her luck- to have not only survived against the most fearsome force her order had encountered, but to have formed a cautious alliance with him- this was all going far better than she’d ever hoped.
Of course, the road couldn’t run smooth forever, as she was sharply reminded when she pulled up in front of her building to find a familiar car already parked there. She soon noticed its owner leant up against the wall next to the vehicle checking his phone, thankfully for the moment unaware of her arrival.
"Is something wrong?" Dracula said suddenly, and she jumped at his voice. "Are we not getting out?"
"Not just yet- that man there, he can’t know who you are."
"Hm, jealous lover perhaps? Or is he one of the Brotherhood? I could deal with him if you wish."
"Ex-fiancé, thank you very much. And yes, he works with me- probably wondering why I called in today." She worried her lip between her teeth, trying to think of some way to either sneak around him or find some excuse for the strange man in her car that didn’t involve her effectively kidnapping the Prince of Darkness. "Also no, even if you were are full strength that bracelet would keep you from harming anything human. And no, I’m not taking it off of you so you can maul him."
"Can’t blame me for trying… I’d kill for some fresh blood after all those bland bags you keep giving me."
"I’m sure you would. Now, be quite for a minute while I think of how to explain this to-"
"Belle! There you are!" She winced at the voice. He’d noticed her after all. "I was worried when you called in, you never call in, has something… happened?"
Damn, and he’d noticed Dracula too. At least for the moment the vampire looked relatively normal. Though the smirk currently stretching his features was somewhat worrying. She stepped out of the car cautiously, gesturing for her companion to follow.
"Nothing’s happened, Gaston, this is my-"
"Research partner; I am assisting Belle in finding the source of these damnable creatures plaguing your… fair city." Sure enough, before Belle could come up with a plan, her companion seemed to have formulated a ruse. At least he wasn’t claiming to be her new lover.
"Gaston Laurent; I’m one of Belle’s coworkers. We’re happy to have your help, Mr…." He trailed off, obviously waiting for the other to introduce himself. When he did not, Gaston retracted his friendly demeanor, eyeing him suspiciously. "You’re of the Brotherhood, then?"
"Something like that." Seeing the disbelief etched in the others features, he continued. "You must forgive me for not being so forthcoming in introducing myself. Names have tremendous power, and I find it is not always prudent to give that power over so easily. You understand."
"Of course. I’m more concerned as to why I wasn’t informed that the Brotherhood was bringing in outside help on the demon case."
"Come now, surely you must know the Brotherhood doesn’t tell you everything." He said this with such a sinister smile that Belle felt compelled to intervene before anything escalated.
"I’m ashamed to have to cut this meeting short, but I think we’ve still got a lot of research to do." She turned to Gaston and gave him the sweetest fake smile she could manage. "I do appreciate you coming to check on me. I’ll be back into work tomorrow; perhaps we can discuss all of this then?"
"That’s not the only reason I’m here, Belle." He told her solemnly, shooting another skeptical glance at the vampire. "Last night there was a disturbance at a church not far from here. The demon they found there was different from anything we’ve fought before, bigger, stronger, faster; they’re getting more powerful and they want us to investigate. We patrol tonight at sundown; bring your friend, if he wants to study the demons here it’d be a good opportunity to see the monsters up close. If he thinks he can handle it, of course."
"I think you’ll find me more than capable, boy." The vampire replied with a barely concealed snarl, sharpened canines flashing. Belle was suddenly thankful for Gaston’s obstinate obliviousness; hopefully he wouldn’t notice anything odd about the other man. The two stood tense on the sidewalk, glaring at each other as though neither was willing to make the first move. Belle was suddenly struck by the almost humorous comparison of the two: Gaston had nearly a foot in height over Dracula, though the smaller being hardly let that deter him. If anything he looked all the fiercer for it, and she couldn’t help but think that her bracelet must be in near overload trying to hold him off if his expression was anything to go by.
"Well then, I think we’d best get back to work now." She intervened, stepping between them and gently placing her hand on the vampire’s arm. That seemed to do the trick; his focus shifted to her immediately, his eyes narrowing as if he was unsure just what to think of her.
"Of course you’re right." He added, turning back to Gaston. "If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Laurent. I assume we’ll see you tonight."
"Right. I’ll meet you by the church at sundown." He nodded. "And Belle- be careful."
"Thanks for the concern, but I doubt I’ll run into much trouble reading."
"Wasn’t talking about that. I’ll see you both later."
He turned away before Belle could reply, getting back into his car and driving away down the street. Belle was concerned by his last remark; Gaston wasn’t exactly stupid, but he was about as perceptive as a brick. There was no way he could have figured out that her companion wasn’t human, could he?
"I don’t trust him." Dracula hissed, jerking her back into the present. She noticed she had yet to remove her hand from his arm and quickly retracted it; she didn’t dwell on the strange look of sadness that flashed across his features when she did.
"I doubt you trust anyone."
"You shouldn’t trust him either." She gave him a puzzled look. "No one knew you found me in the church, did they? Then isn’t it awfully convenient that your colleague is aware of a "disturbance" there not a day later? I’d watch your back tonight if I were you."
"I will. Yours too, since you won’t be able to do anything if you’re right and Gaston does try anything." An indignant look darkened his face at that, and Belle countered with her brightest smile. "Don’t worry though, we trained together; I beat him sparring every time."
"I feel so reassured. Not as much as I’d be if I had a sword, however."
"I’ll see what we can do about that." She smiled.
—————-
He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been expecting when she’d told him she would be able to acquire a sword from her workplace. The building itself was impressive, at least as much as the old armories had been in his time, though this was much larger, massive stone columns reaching up toward the sky like some ancient temple. What surprised him was the distinct lack of guards- the place was completely vulnerable, with the only thing standing between the treasures within and any possible invaders being an incredibly aged woman sat behind a desk by the main entrance who’d smiled sweetly at Belle and eyed him with mild curiosity as they passed.
The weapons and other objects inside the building were contained in a manner that made no sense to him until he noted the likeness of the displays to the old method of maintaining ancient holy relics; it was then that he understood. This was no armory, and these same manner of weapons he had thought practical and commonplace were merely set out for display, the obsolete remnants of a bygone era, now little more than novelties for the public to gawk upon.
In a thousand years he had never yet felt so old.
He supposed he must have appeared quite dazed, for Belle took it upon herself to guide him bodily to a small door just off the main room of the building, saying nothing, as though she was aware of his distress. At this point he’d hardly be surprised- the girl was imminently perceptive it seemed. The door they passed through led to a room likely the same size as the first, though it appeared much smaller due to the numerous artifacts and storage containers piled up around the walls.
"This way, just down here…" She led him down the room a bit, stopping at a row of large boxes marked with numbers and strangely packed rows of lines that were incomprehensible to the vampire. "Here we are- I’m not sure which of these would suit you best, so you’ll have to choose for yourself."
She opened the first of the boxes to reveal a number of smaller ones, each of varying lengths but all roughly the same width and depth- there must have been at least three dozen swords and daggers in each of the dozen-odd boxes along the wall. Hopefully at least one of them was decently battle ready and sharp, he’d hardly the time to take care of that himself before nightfall.
Most of the boxed weapons were in no condition to be used in battle- many were brown and thick with rust, some were merely shards in their cases. Belle, for her part, waited patiently as he picked through the boxes, only wincing slightly as if in sympathy for the relics as he began shoving the blades ever more roughly back into their cases in frustration. He was almost ready to give up and face the monsters bare handed when he noticed that the swords in the last box appeared somewhat newer than the rest, though still undeniably ancient. Finally, about halfway through the box he found a weapon that he thought, at first glance, wouldn’t shatter in his grip. He raised the long blade experimentally, testing its weight. It seemed sturdy enough, and entirely free of rust. He lifted the tip of the sword to his other hand, testing the sharpness against a fingertip. Sure enough, a fat droplet of blood welled up where the metal pressed in. It was hardly a fresh weapon, but no more worn than any would be after a long day of battle. It would do.
He looked up to alert his companion of his discovery, only to find her sat down against the wall of the room, her face mostly obscured by a large book, and entirely distracted from whatever he was doing. He smirked. The bracelet might prevent him from doing anything with malicious intent, but it could hardly stop him from scaring her a little. It was for her own good; she really should know better to take her attention off of a vampire, even one as temporarily tamed as he was. With a loud cry, he raised the blade and swung at her.
He was on his back before he could fully register what had happened. The girl stood over him, combat cross held to his chest and breathing heavily, book discarded on the floor where she’d thrown it a moment before. His newfound sword was not far from it, struck from his hand before he’d had the chance to realize she was armed.
"Well. You continue to impress me, girl." He coughed. It was astonishingly easy to forget that breathing was necessary for speech until one had to reason with the person currently standing on their lungs.
"I’d be more flattered by that if it meant you’d stop trying to attack me." She stepped off of his chest and held out her hand to help him up. This he refused, instead rolling over to retrieve his weapon before standing. She dropped her outstretched hand back to her side, eyeing his choice of weapon. "Will that be sufficient for you?"
"Aye. It will do for now. Though it could stand a sharpening."
"Well if I run across a grindstone, I’ll let you know." She replying with a level of sarcasm he thought no being other than himself was capable of. "Anyway, we should head back to the apartment. It’ll be sundown soon, and I need to change. I’d wager you could use some more blood as well, if we run into any trouble."
"I could do with a drink. Shall we?" He gestured to the door with his sword.
"After you. You should wrap that up first, though; I’ll be in enough trouble for letting you borrow that without it being blatantly obvious what you’re walking out with."
"As you wish." He returned the sword to its case, not missing her strange half-stifled laughter at his choice of words. Perhaps that phrase had some new connotation in this time? He’d have to ask about it later.
For now, though, he simply looked forward to the night’s hunt, and a chance to sink his blade- and of they were lucky enough to separate from Belle’s arrogant colleague, his fangs- into something. Oh, he could practically feel his blood thrumming at the thought; he’d gone far too long without a decent fight.
———————
The sun had just begun to sink below the farthest parapets of the city when Belle pulled the car up in front of the church. It hadn’t taken them long to prepare, after her companion had finally selected a weapon. One short trip back to the apartment later and they’d reemerged battle ready: her in her leather coat from the second night at the church, and him still in her sweater for normalcy’s sake, but now armed and sated with fresh blood. He’d finished off the crate in her fridge, despite his protests to the taste. Perhaps the sriracha he’d mixed into the liquid had appeased him after all.
"Your friend is late. Perhaps something ate him already." The vampire snarked from the passenger seat. It was true; the sun was almost completely set and still Gaston was nowhere in sight.
"Oh, don’t be morbid. He’ll turn up. Probably just had some business to take care of first." Truthfully, she was a bit concerned. Her ex-fiancé was many things, but unpunctual was not usually one of them. "We should probably start patrolling. If what he said was right about there being an especially strong demon here, I don’t want to give it the chance to slip by us."
"Oh, good. I do hope you’re right- a nice, big demon sounds absolutely delicious right now. Not as good as human, but at least it’d be fresh." He followed her as she exited the car, and the two made their way around the side of the building, establishing a perimeter before delving into the alleyways.
"Just keep your voice down- Gaston might be here already, and he can’t hear you talking like that."
"Oh? Now I’m staring to get the impression that you’re embarrassed of me." He grinned, fangs almost luminous in the twilit gloom.
The distant echo of a scream caught their attention before Belle could answer. The pair froze, hands on their weapons as they looked for the source of the sound. Then it came again from somewhere behind them, the alley they had passed on their way. Belle turned to run toward the screaming, gesturing for Dracula to follow her silently.
At the mouth of the alley they paused. The screaming had stopped, and the space looked deserted. Then Belle noticed the hulking shape of a car shrouded in the darkness; as they approached she recognized the vehicle. It seemed Gaston had arrived before them after all. It was then that the scream sounded again from just around the bend of the alley, and this time she noted that it sounded distinctly male.
"Damn- " she ran toward the noise again, her vampire close behind. She may not have cared much for the man, but she wasn’t about to let Gaston get torn apart by demons on her watch.
She rounded the corner and found him backed into a wall by the largest and fiercest looking demon she’d seen. The thing glowed with a hellish light, its draconic yet ram-like horns lowered and bloody. It seemed to fight by goring its victims blow by blow, and the man hadn’t been fast enough to avoid it.
She didn’t pause a moment, instead rushing full tilt at the creature and wrapping the spiked chain of her weapon around its waist. She pulled back violently, jerking the beast with her and away from Gaston. The creature hit the ground with a shock that nearly pulled her down with it as she withdrew the chain. As the beast reared up and roared, however, she began to rethink her strategy.
Before the demon could strike, a flurry of metal and blood obscured her vision as the vampire attacked. The demon raised one monstrous pale arm to block the blow, shattering the ancient weapon.
"So much for that- ah, well, didn’t really need it anyway." The demon lunged and Dracula caught the beast by the jaws. "You take care of him, this bastard’s mine!" He hissed with such ferocity that Belle didn’t hesitate to comply.
She ran to Gaston’s side; he was still conscious, which was a somewhat mixed blessing- there’s no way she’d have been able to move his dead weight, but he was also clearly able to witness her companion’s inhuman fighting style.
"Belle- Belle, what-"
"Don’t worry about that now; I’ll explain later. We need to get you out of here." She dragged him to his feet, one arm slung over her shoulders as she helped him hobble past the warring creatures.
"Belle, what is he?" She turned to follow the injured man’s gaze back to the fight, and saw that the vampire appeared to be using a whip conjured of his own blood to fight the demon. She tried to shake the odd similarity to her own weapon from her mind.
"He’s helping me, Gaston; I’ll tell you the rest later." They reached her car and she heaved him into the back seat. "I’ll be back for you as soon as I can- don’t move."
"He’s not human though, is he?"
She didn’t answer. Instead she ran back into the alleyway, suddenly unsettled. The sounds of the fighting had stopped. When she rounded the corner she was met with no sign of the vampire, only the oozing corpse of the demon, neatly sliced in half. Wait- sliced? But Dracula’s sword had snapped in two-
A sudden movement from the rooftop above caught her eye. She looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of a tall, armored figure jumping away- with another body in its arms.
"Hey, wait!" She reached the nearest fire escape and clambered up it, desperate to stop the unknown figure that had taken the vampire. Sure enough, as she reached the roof she saw movement in the distance, and sprinted after them. The mysterious figure was fast, but she knew these rooftops well, and the chain of her cross came in handy for traversing the buildings with ease. Still, the figure was almost inhumanly fast, especially to be carrying the vampire as it ran.
Belle was just a building’s length behind them whey they disappeared into the shadows of a skyscraper and out of her sight. She couldn’t make out where they’d gone in the darkness, but she knew they couldn’t be far. But she couldn’t chase them any further, not with Gaston bleeding in the back of her car. She’d return here tomorrow night, and as many nights after as she needed. She’d find him. She’d hardly brought back the legendary Prince of Darkness just to have him stolen away.
Yet another installment of the ficmonster that is my Castlevania!AU Rumbelle. Also posted here on Ao3.
He had to admit it cheered him somewhat to learn of the Brotherhood’s decline over the centuries. It seemed the without a great evil to quest against the knights had faded into obscurity, a relic of the past much as he himself was. Though the girl- Belle, he supposed he would deign to use her name so long as she continued to impress him- was quick to mention that the order was not quite dead, though most ordinary folk had long ago relegated them to the annals of history. No, the Brotherhood operated within the city still, a warship with a skeleton crew, unseen and disregarded. A part of him wondered distantly just who was responsible for keeping the flagging order alive in spite of the greatly lessened need for protection against the forces of darkness. He wouldn’t be surprised if this were another plot of Zoso’s, an insurance plan should he fail to corral the assistance of his erstwhile ally.
"That’s why I came back for you." Belle told him as she ended her tale. "We’ve barely been able to stem the tide of demons appearing in the city lately. They just show up, like they were spawning from the darkness itself, and we can’t figure out why. Perhaps you could help us understand what’s going on."
"And why in all the levels of hell would I help the Brotherhood?" He barked a laugh at her, noting her resultant scowl with amusement. "Why should I care if the whole world burns up beneath my feet? If Satan himself raises from the depths, what makes you think I would bat an eye?"
"I don’t expect you to care about us. I do, however, think you’d care about getting that bracelet off. Which I’ll be much more inclined to do if you help me."
"Hah! The little knight blackmailing the Prince of Darkness! You are a bold one, aren’t you?" It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so infuriating. And he couldn’t deny she had a point- with that damnable relic on his wrist he couldn’t even hunt for himself, not unless he wished to lose a hand. He really had little choice in the matter, at least not until he grew somewhat stronger.
"I like to think so, yes. So will you help me or not? I’ll tell no one who you are, and you need have no contact with the rest of the order. I’ll even help you get your powers back." She drove a hard bargain, he had to admit, and if he had to be in the service of another, the girl before him was far preferable to Zoso. Less likely to betray him, at least; if she wished him dead she’d likely have killed him in the church at their first meeting.
"You give me no choice, do you?" He smirked darkly. "Very well. I’ll give you what information I can, and you shall assist me in retrieving my relics. Only, how do you know I won’t kill you the second you take this bracelet off? You may have been able to defeat me before, but you know well the extent of my powers. You can’t possibly trust me to spare you."
"And here I thought I’d impressed you." She smiled coyly at him before regaining her more serious tone. "And it would be awfully rude of you to kill the person who helped you."
"Monsters are hardly polite, dearie."
She said nothing, only eyeing him as if she was unsure just what to make of him. He felt much the same about her, this strange and brave creature who had deigned to make a deal with him. He supposed he should get used to this confusion, as so much of this world made little more sense. He turned the bottle of strange red liquid- sriracha, apparently- over in his hand as he thought. Even this small thing was a kind of mystery; in his time such strong spices would be the utmost luxury, and yet this girl, obviously far from nobility, had easy access to it. And this new “technology”, the bizarre magic that had enveloped the demon castle and deformed it beyond all recognition… Belle was not the only one who desired answers.
"Well, you’re certainly more polite than most of the monsters I’ve fought." Belle’s voice broke through his thoughts. "Since I’ve answered one of your questions, could I ask you something?"
"You may, though I cannot guarantee an answer, or at least an honest one."
“I’ll take what I can get.” She paused a moment as if composing her thoughts, no doubt any number of inquiries were tripping over each other and vying for prominence on her tongue. When she spoke, it was not the question he’d been expecting. “When I met you in the church, I told you I didn’t sense anything evil, if anything I felt at peace. Is that one of your powers, that you can conceal yourself that way, or is it something else?”
"It’s no concealment. Perhaps your ‘senses’ are flawed."
"The rest of the Brotherhood thinks otherwise. Even if I’m not sure how they work, I at least know that they do."
"I could tell you exactly how- that particular power was far more common in my time. There are those who are, by nature or by some divine gift, more in touch with the earth and its energies. Though there are always more who claim to have such skills than those that actually do." He shot her a mocking grin, curious as to how she’d respond to his taunting.
"Did you have such a power, when you were human?" She took him somewhat by surprise by ignoring his implications entirely, instead taking another opportunity to pump him for information. Though how this question could help her present quest he was unsure; it seemed she was being truthful when she spoke of her insatiable curiosity. This could be a problem, for her as well as him- he doubted the Brotherhood would take kindly to anyone learning the truth about his past existence, nor their role in creating his present state.
"Who says I was ever human at all, dearie? No doubt your books spoke of me purely as some product of hellfire."
"You did; you said yourself only vampires that were once human can still consume human food." She gestured to the bottle in his hand.
"There are many demons that walk in human form. Don’t assume that a pleasant face does not conceal any horrors." He took another sip of the spicy concoction as if to punctuate his point. She really was too clever; he’d have to throw her off somehow.
"I don’t believe you’re any sort of demon, at least not anything like the ones I’ve encountered. I’ve never met any powerful vampires-"
"That you know of."
"-so perhaps this feeling is normal. At any rate, you obviously don’t want to talk about this-"
"Finally, some insight."
"-so it must be important." She smiled brightly at him as he regarded her warily. Damn, she was going to be stubborn about this, wasn’t she? "But I’ll let it go for now. Perhaps instead you’d care to explain what you meant when you spoke of your castle- and by extension the city, I suppose- being possessed by some sort of demon? That might explain the presence of the demons here, if not the sudden influx of them."
He considered her question for a bit; she was certainly apt to put two and two together in a way that the rest of the Brotherhood- and indeed anyone foolish enough to settle here- could not. She was still incorrect, as he knew well why the demons were rising from what Zoso had told him, but he saw no dire need to volunteer that information. She’d likely whip the whole of the remaining Brotherhood up into a fury if she knew, and the last thing he needed was an all-out war in the city while he still needed to recover his powers. He’d deal with Satan when it became necessary, and Zoso with him, but not before.
"Just a moment, you’ve asked one question already dearie, I believe that makes it my turn to inquire." He replied, taking another swig from the bottle and emptying it.
"Alright. I suppose you’re right, even though you didn’t really answer my question." She conceded, and he had the nagging feeling she was merely humoring him. "What do you want to know now?"
"That’s more like it." He considered what to ask, wondering where to begin to fill in the holes in his knowledge. The empty bottle in his hand seemed as good an inspiration as any, and would give him an excuse to explore part of the travesty constructed over his resting place. "I would like to know where exactly one may acquire more of this substance- take me there."
——————
"You want me to take you to buy more hot sauce?" That was not the question Belle had been anticipating. Still, it seemed a relatively harmless request, of an odd one. And now, when she considered the seriousness of his expression, she realized the request for what it really was: a plea for exploration of the city; he wished to learn the ways of the time by observation. She couldn’t really argue with that, though they would obviously need to take some precautions.
"Well, I don’t see any problem with that, except for one thing- I thought vampires couldn’t stand the sunlight?"
"For the weakest ones that is true. For me, however-" He strode over to the heavily curtained kitchen window and paused half a moment before pulling the fabric aside. The sunlight washed over him and he did little more than wince at the sudden light against his eyes. "-it poses no great problem."
Indeed, Belle thought the sunlight did him some good, lending his deathly pale skin a warmer hue and dulling the red of his eyes to a grayish brown. It made him appear almost human, and were it not for his strange armor and coat, he seemed almost a perfectly ordinary and even handsome man. She refused to follow that line of thought any further, knowing full well the mythic power of seduction possessed by powerful vampires and hardly wishing to fall prey to it. Still, she’d have to find him some other clothes.
"There is one more thing- you can’t go out dressed like that."
"Is something wrong with my attire? You said nothing about it earlier."
"I didn’t think it would come up, since I assumed you’d only be going out at night. But if you want to accompany me to the store in broad daylight you need to look more… Normal."
"I have no other clothes."
"Can’t you just summon more from your blood like you did those?"
"I can hardly summon something I have never possessed."
"Alright, I’ll just have to find something for you to wear then…" She looked him up and down, carefully judging what she’d need to change and what could pass as normal. His leather pants and boots were fine, if a little unorthodox, but the coat and armor would have to go. She hoped she could find a shirt that would fit him; he wasn’t nearly as large as the stories said, but he was still several inches taller than she, and his shoulders a good deal broader. "Hold on just a moment."
She retreated back into her bedroom and walked to her closet as she recalled of a sudden an overlarge sweatshirt she used as pajamas in the winter that she had no memory of acquiring, as it was far too big for her. It might just fit her guest though, she thought. She found the garment with little trouble, thankfully clean and unmarked but for the logo of the city college adorning the front. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as she assumed he would like, but it was unremarkable enough to hopefully ensure no incidents. She returned to the living room and presented him with the shirt.
"Here, put this on instead of your coat. I know it’s not very fashionable, but it’ll have to do until we can get you some more clothes."
He took the offered garment warily but said nothing, and there was another flash of coiling blood around him as he banished his coat and armor back from whence they came. That was going to take some getting used to, she mused. Then he shrugged the sweatshirt over his head and pulled it on, feeling the material uncertainly. Thankfully it fit, though it was a bit tight about the shoulders. She was somewhat taken aback as how much smaller he seemed dressed in modern clothes.
"This is very fine cloth, is this common in this time?" He asked, and she realized belatedly that compared to the coarse clothing of his era, the soft material must feel quite luxurious.
"More than common; that’s the cheap stuff now. But it’s comfortable, at least." She explained. "Also, since that’s your second question in a row, I get to ask you two when we get back."
"I suppose that’s fair." He laughed sincerely then, not a harsh bark but a softer, warmer sound, more human than before. "Shall we be off? I desire to learn more about this place before nightfall."
"I’m ready if you are. Just don’t be too loud if anything confuses you; I’d rather not have any confrontations today."
"I can make no promises, but I will try."
"Fair enough."
———————
The strange contraption she’d transported him in last night was no less unsettling the second time around. The whole thing thrummed beneath him like some sort of monstrous beast, though with a regularity that unnerved him. He wondered exactly how it worked- there were certainly experiments with varying forms of propulsion in his time, and he recalled vividly the electric abominations he’d encountered in the towers of the castle, but this vehicle seemed different from either of them. He’d no great desire to know the specifics of the matter, however; so long as the metal monster conveyed him forth safely he’d no concerns as to how it managed the feat.
"Here we are." Belle declared after a few minutes, pulling the car up against the curb in front of a small storefront that even at midday glowed with a noxious light that Dracula had never seen outside of a sorcerer’s den. He eyed the place warily as he got out of the car, only fumbling momentarily with the odd restraints- seat belts, as Belle called them- and the small, easily missed door handle.
"What exactly do you call this… Place?" He did not know quite how to describe it; while most shops in his time would cater to a small, specified category of items this one seemed to offer a staggering variety of wares, most of which were entirely foreign to the vampire. Still, judging by the number of people milling about the building this was one of the cultural centers of this world, and it would likely be necessary to familiarize himself with the place.
"It’s called a convenience store, sort of like a small supermarket." It seemed to occur to her belatedly that he had no idea what a supermarket was. "Which is like an entire marketplace in a single building- they can sell food, clothing, tools, all sorts of things."
They made their way into the store as Belle continued to explain, pointing out the different sections of the store, which seemed smaller than it was due to the numerous small isles packed with items like so many merchant stalls. She took it upon herself to grab several extra items before they acquired a new, somewhat larger bottle of the spicy concoction that he’d grown so suddenly fond of. He thought he’d try mixing it into his blood that evening to counteract the strange tastelessness of the pouches. As they walked back to the front of the store as sudden thought occurred to him, as he’d noticed a certain deficiency in the market’s inventory.
"Can I purchase weapons here?"
"Er, most likely not. A bigger store might have hunting supplies or knives, but you’d need to find a specialty store for anything else."
"Where might I acquire a sword, then?" He was growing rather confused- how did these people defend themselves with no weapons readily available, especially given the continued demonic presence and the diminished state of the Brotherhood? He’d seen nothing remotely like a blacksmith or weapons shop on the way, and now that he was looking he saw that not a one of the citizens seemed to be armed. Well, that would certainly make it easier on him when he did get his strength back, as the population at large looked to be even more utterly incapable of posing any threat than their ancestors did to his armies years ago.
Of course, that was assuming he was a able to acquire any weapons of his own. His sword and chaos powers lay concealed somewhere in the city, but he didn’t like the idea of being without a weapon while he searched for them, and at present his blood whip would likely take more out of him than he could easily replenish without being able to feed freely. All in all this whole misadventure was proving a damnable inconvenience.
"I can get you a sword, but I can’t guarantee its condition. Most of the weapons you’re used to are going to be old relics by now."
"If it will still cut through flesh and won’t snap in half in the middle of a fight, I could care less about the sate of it."
"Well then I should have no problem getting you one- if you come to work with me tomorrow you can pick one out yourself."
Their conversation paused a moment as Belle payed for her purchases, handing over a number of odd bits of paper in addition to the more familiar coins he was used to. The merchant behind the counter eyed them somewhat oddly, though the man, barely more than an overgrown teenager, looked away pointedly when Dracula shot him a glare. If Belle noticed this, she did not remark on it.
He wondered for a moment as they made to leave the store about the girl’s profession; likely it involved access to some sort of arsenal of relics and weapons, perhaps not unlike the one he’d possessed for a time in his own castle. Though she seemed and odd fit for a guard of any kind; strong and undoubtably clever as she was, she was still very small, and would be easily overpowered if outnumbered and unable to move from her post. He supposed the Brotherhood must be growing truly desperate.
"I wouldn’t have marked you as a guardian of ancient weaponry, dearie." He remarked as they returned to the car.
"Well that’s a very dramatic way of putting it- I’m actually a librarian." He let out another laugh at that- that certainly explained the veritable mountain of books in her home.
"What’s so funny?" She actually looked offended, and he smirked at her.
"Well you hardly seem anything like the bookkeepers and scribes I’m used to. Most of them would cower in fear at the mere thought of a vampire attack, not take the monster home with them."
"Well I try to be a bit braver than people expect me to be."
"You seek to prove yourself as a hero, then?" He shook his head. He’d seen any number of naive warriors with that goal in mind try and defeat him to prove their own might and courage. He had, with few notable exceptions, felled them all.
"Something like that. Though, it’s more for my own benefit than any kind of glory or honor. I always wanted to be brave, so even if I don’t feel particularly courageous I always think I’ll do the brave thing, and bravery will follow."
"Is that what this is then, you taking me in?" He turned to her, watching her curiously. It seemed she might prove just as fascinating to him as he undoubtably did to her. "Is this you being the hero and ‘doing the brave thing’?"
"I like to think so." She smirked again, turning away from him and starting up the car. "And that’s three answers you owe me now."
Next chapter of my Castlevania!Rumbelle AU. Also on Ao3 here.
He didn’t need to sleep, as a matter of fact. It was only a symptom of his damnable weakness that he’d spent so much time unconscious recently. Now, with his strength slowly returning under the influence of the blood she’d provided him with- ostensibly without killing anyone, just as she’d said she would- he found himself wide awake and wary, taking in the small room she’d left him in with distaste.
It was obvious from the state of her dwelling that the Brotherhood compensated its members no better now than it had in the past. Though clean, the place was crumbling, all peeling and faded wallpaper the color of old parchment and creaking, ancient furniture in various sepia hues. The threadbare once-burgundy couch sagged beneath him, though the blanket she’d unceremoniously provided him with was soft enough. Not that he would use it; it was one of the benefits of his cursed existence that cold was no more a problem for him than it would be for a corpse.
As he continued to stare aimlessly around the room, for want of anything else to do, he mused that perhaps her modest conditions were less the result of underpay and more the work of her own unusual priorities. For along the far wall was a row of bookcases shoved full to bursting with tomes of all kinds, some likely ancient as he was and some obviously new, bound in a flimsy, glossy covering that was apparently common to this new era. He’d known no one outside of the ecclesiastical orders in his time who’d possessed so many books. Yes, this was the likely reason for her inopulent lifestyle- to acquire so much literature must’ve taken a fortune.
At least he’d not go mad from boredom tonight. Part of him knew he should simply return to his hiding place, bracelet be damned. He’d tried experimentally to pry it off, though it seemed the magic held just as she said. In any case, did he truly wish to go back to skulking in the shadows like a common ghoul, waiting for Zoso to come and retrieve him as if he were an errant child? Hardly. But all the same he could hardly wander the streets aimlessly, not with the Brotherhood obviously still present and patrolling the city. Much as he’d like to burst into wherever they’d made their headquarters and rip the lot of them to pieces like the quivering whelps they were, he knew he’d not the strength for it, even without the bracelet nagging at his mind. Just the thought of what he’d do with the Brotherhood at his mercy left him with a stinging headache, a warning of what should happen if he continued with this line of thought.
He’d have to recover his powers somehow. If what the girl had said was true, that these fools in all their insolence had built their city atop his ruined fortress, then his weapons and relics must be hidden somewhere within its bounds. He’d made certain they could not be removed except by his hand, thought was entirely possible they lay beneath some pile of unreachable rubble. He rested his face in his hands, contemplative. Even if he knew where to begin, even if he regained his full strength, what then? If he drove the settlers from his domain, if he exterminated the pests that had repurposed his halls, what then? He would simply return to where he began, alone in his maddening castle, alone with his thoughts for all eternity. At least now, with the original structure in ruins, the castle’s voice in his head was silent, though he doubted Bernhard’s demon was entirely dead, not if the city was still spawning monsters.
In any case, he’d not have much luck in this place on his own, he knew that. Particularly not if what Zoso had said at their last meeting was true. If Satan was still powerful enough to influence this world- did anyone in this place stay dead?- then he’d have to deal with that eventually. Much as he hated to admit it Zoso had a point; present events hardly boded well for either of them. But he’d not be the man’s pawn this time. If he defeated Satan again, he’d do it for none but himself. Perhaps, he thought distantly, if the great devil could return from hell, so too could other things be restored; perhaps the shattered remnants of his weapon, his only hope of solace, could be returned to him. Then he could end his wretched existence once and for all.
Regardless of what path he chose, it would be unwise to set forth on his search of the city on his own, not when the most constant of aspects of the world he’d known had apparently vanished. He’d not been able to see the once domineering mountains for the buildings- he was unsure even if trees or grass still existed in this landscape of blackened stone. He’d slept far too long; the world had moved on without him. He supposed it should have been some consolation that he’d no one left for time to take from him. He’d done that all himself.
He felt a twinge of pain in his mind. It seemed the bracelet would not allow him even his own black thoughts. At least it would allow him to focus on restoring his abilities. Once he’d done that he could simply slice his hand off and the bracelet with it; it’d be no trouble to restore, and then-
"Agh!" He cried out, doubling over as a jolt of pain shot through him. Well. This relic was either more powerful than he’d expected, or he was still weaker even than he’d thought. He clutched at his temples as the ache subsided, hearing a slight shuffling from the next room. It seemed he’d woken his host. He kept silent then, waiting until he heard the rustling of sheets and creaking of bedsprings as she laid down again, obviously unthreatened by his outburst. Oh, that burned him. She was truly unafraid of him! He should break down the door between them, and show her just how fearsome-
No, not again, he stilled his thoughts as he felt another shock of pain coiling up under his wrist, the metal band warming up for another round. He’d have to keep greater control of his urges, it seemed. He grimaced, though he suddenly felt a surge of respect for the girl that had managed to collar the Dragon, a feat that her brethren could not manage in a thousand years. He was at once reminded of his former self, so many, many years ago. He only hoped she was not as naive as he.
Now with a cold smile gracing his lips, he moved to examine her small library more fully. It seemed as good a place to start his search as any. He extracted from the jumble of tomes a historical text on the city built on a monster’s tomb and returned to his seat. He settled down with the book and began to peruse the pages for anything that looked promising, laughing silently to himself at the ridiculous arrogance of those who honestly believed they’d defeated him. With his mind thus occupied and the annoying bracelet no longer plaguing him, he waited for dawn.
——————
Belle woke the next morning to silence, sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window. It was odd to see such a cloudless day in the city; normally the skies overhead remained stubbornly overcast, the city’s own smog covering what the natural clouds could not reach. The oddly cheery atmosphere made her smile, and for a long moment she forgot the circumstances of the night before. Indeed, it wasn’t until she was reaching for her door handle that she recalled whom she’d left (presumably) sleeping in the living room.
In an instant she regained her senses, the weight of her undertaking settling upon her narrow shoulders once more. She’d luckily had the foresight to take the day off from work, which would hopefully give her time to figure out how to proceed from here with her guest. That is, assuming he had deigned to remain in her apartment-
She opened the door and stepped out to greet an empty room. Her shoulders sagged in defeat; of course he would flee into the darkness the first chance she gave him, bracelet or no. At least her artifact was working- that he’d left her unharmed was proof enough of that- so that she was reasonably assured there would be no innocent casualties of her failed plan. She leant against her doorway for a bit, trying to mask her disappointment. And here she’d hoped she would finally be able to accomplish something more worthwhile than simply killing an endless glut of monsters. She’d thought she might find and end to this darkness altogether. She’d thought-
A loud crash and a muffled curse from the bathroom across the apartment halted her introspection. It seemed her guest hadn’t left after all. She cautiously crept over to stand before the closed door, pondering if she should investigate further. She hoped he hadn’t found some way to injure himself, but she hardly wanted to… interrupt anything. Did vampires even need to-
There came another muffled shout from within, and the door wrenched open. Suddenly Belle found herself faced with a very angry, very wet, and very naked vampire. Thankfully he’d had the decency to cover himself with one of her towels, though he was still dripping all over her floor.
"Ah-" he faltered, obviously not expecting her to be waiting for him outside the door.
"Are you quite alright?" She asked, attempting unsuccessfully to keep her amusement from her voice.
"I was attempting to bathe. Tell me, does the water from your strange indoor spigots come in any temperature other than boiling?" He sounded more confused than infuriated, and Belle couldn’t quite fight back a laugh, earning her a red-eyed glare.
"It does, yes. Did you try adjusting the knobs on the wall?"
"Hardly matters now, I think. I’m sure I’ve scalded off any dirt at this point." He pushed past her into the living room, and she thought that if vampires could blush he’d have been bright red.
"In any case-” he sauntered into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge. He paused for a moment, obviously not expecting the burst of cold air from within the box, and she though she heard a muttered "How?" escape his lips. Then he simply retrieved a blood pack from its box and turned back toward her. "Now that you’re awake, I assume you’ll be wanting some of your precious answers."
"That would be nice, yes." She looked him over for a moment. Unclad as he was, she could hardly help recalling her notion from last night that, yes, for an immortal undead vampire, he wasn’t bad to look at. Somewhat smaller than she thought he’d be- though he still towered over her own petite stature-, but obviously strong. She shook those thoughts from her mind. It would hardly do to be getting distracted now.
"But first, would you, er, like some clothes?" She gestured to the rags she’d carried him there in, laid carefully over the arm of her couch. "Those can’t be particularly comfortable."
"Oh, no need to trouble yourself over that-" He put down the blood pack and squared his shoulders oddly. She wondered what he intended to do. Then, torrents of blood surrounded him seemingly from out of nowhere, wrapping themselves around him in gushing rivulets as she watched in horror. Then the blood seemed to shift into something else altogether, and when the gruesome spectacle was over he stood before her clothed in armor and a long blood-red leather cloak, though she noticed something missing from his ensemble,
"Aren’t you forgetting a shirt?" Belle eyed his exposed chest pointedly, trying to keep her gaze from straying there longer than was necessary.
"No point in it; it’d just be covered with blood before long. Too much mess for my liking."
Recalling his manner of ripping into the blood packs from last night, she had to admit he had a point. Then her eyes glanced down to his feet, and the blood-soaked towel that lay there, staining her floor. She gave him a pointed look.
He rolled his eyes at her- some gestures transcended eras, it seemed- and retrieved the dripping article from the floor. He gestured over it with his other arm and the blood ropes returned, coiling out from the towel and leaving it clean, if still damp. The blood reabsorbed itself into his cloak, adding an inch or so to the hem.
"Thank you." She smiled at him, and he returned the gesture menacingly, biting open his blood packet and glaring. She paid him no mind. "So, I guess I’ll start with the most obvious question- though I’m now exceedingly curious as to why you feel the need to use your own blood to make clothes- how did you survive in that church for so long? It’s been hundreds of years since the last rumors of you still being alive, why stay dormant?"
"You say that as if I had a choice, girl." He sneered. "I didn’t expect to wake, to be honest. Normally if my physical form is destroyed, the castle would revive me in a manner of months. But it seems the castle’s destruction weakened that process, and I had to revive myself. Not by any desire of my own, of course… And for your information, the blood is convenient, and stronger than regular armor."
Belle pondered over the distaste in his voice as he spoke of his own resurrection. Did he not wish to be brought back? He seemed so sad when he spoke of it, eyes darkening to a deep gray. “Fair enough. Though I do wonder just how you managed to stay hidden for so long, especially in the midst of the city.”
"That particular church is older than I am." He smirked. "It seemed the castle still sought to protect me even as I slept."
"The castle is… Alive, then?" That was unexpected.
"It was possessed by some sort of demon long before I came to be. I’m unsure exactly how it happened. Do your books speak nothing of the Bernhards?"
"The original owners of the castle, yes, though it was always spoken of as a curse, not a demon."
"Of course. No doubt the work of the bastard’s descendants, making it out like the old man was cursed… I’m guessing they never told you he summoned the castle’s demon himself?"
"No, they didn’t. I’m starting to feel like there’s a great deal that the books leave out."
"You’ve no idea how right you are, dearie. History is always written by the victors; never forget that."
She recalled the soldier’s account of the “final” battle with the being before her, and couldn’t help but agree with him. It seemed there was much to be learned from her strange new companion. She smiled internally. She wondered if he was naturally being honest with her, or if he’d figured out yet that the bracelet kept him from lying as well.
"Well in any case, now that you’ve told me how you ended up in that church, I’m guessing you have some questions for me? It only seems fair that you get some answers too."
"You know you’re quite the hospitable jailer." He smirked, taking another blood pack from the fridge and leaning against the nearby counter as if he’d lived here for years, and she were his guest. Given that the ruins of his former home formed the foundations of hers, that was not far from the truth. "I’m certain if any of your colleagues had found me I’d have woken on fire, or never at all. Instead you wander into my sanctuary, completely unawares, fight off the monster maddening for you blood, and then have the gall to carry me back to your home and patch me up as if I were one of your own. You certainly are the strangest knight I’ve met."
"And you’re the strangest vampire I’ve met. And it’s hardly a prison if you can come and go as your please, is it?" He merely slurped on his blood and jangled the bracelet at her. "Barring a few necessary precautions, of course. Now, why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I fix myself some breakfast, and then we can get you properly acclimated to the future."
"As you wish." He swept into a mocking bow, but kept his eyes on her as she swept past into the kitchen. He then retreated to sink down into his former seat on the couch. Belle glanced over her shoulder as she made herself some toast, watching him flip through one of the books he’d stack on her coffee table. It seemed he’d a penchant for research just as she did. She smiled, turning back to butter her toast. Vampiric inclinations aside, they’d get along swimmingly.
She set the toast aside on a plate, retrieving a couple of eggs from her fridge and commenced making an omelet. Normally she hadn’t time for such a relatively elaborate breakfast, but as she assumed she was to spend the majority of the day bringing a centuries old vampire up to speed on world events, she felt some brain food was in order. She was just grasping the handle of the skillet to flip her omelet when she sensed rather than felt a hot breath over her shoulder.
She jolted back, colliding sharply with the being who’d apparently seen fit to sidle up behind her. She revised the skillet like a weapon as she turned, her half-cooked omelet nearly flying out. She stood face to face with her guest, with him stepping back as far as the narrow breakfast bar would allow, hands raised defensively. She noted his smirk with disdain.
"Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?"
"My apologies; I must confess it’s a habit." He leaned in close again, eyeing her prospective breakfast with interest. "I was simply curious as to what constitutes a meal in this time. What exactly is that concoction?"
"This? Is an omelet. Eggs and cheese mostly. If you’d wait just a bit I’d be happy to explain it in detail to you." She didn’t buy his "curiosity" for a moment. More then likely he was simply testing the limits of the bracelet’s restrictive powers. In any case it was obviously working, or he’d have had his fangs deep into her neck by now. It still bothered her that she couldn’t sense him, at least not as any source of malevolence. If anything, all she felt when he was near was the same odd sort of calm she’d felt in the church, as if some ancient saint were watching over her. Part of her wondered if this were some trick of the vampire’s, designed to make her doubt her judgement. Either way she’d have to be more wary around him from now on. Polite as he was, it wouldn’t do to forget who- and what- she was dealing with.
"You must forgive my impatience. This world is very strange, and I’d like to get my bearings as soon as possible. Even if I have to start with something as mundane as these… Omelets."
Belle didn’t think she’d ever heard the name of a breakfast food uttered so disdainfully.
"Well if you’d like to observe my food preparation, would you mind getting the small red bottle from the door of the fridge for me?" She supposed as long as the vampire was looming over her shoulder he might as well be useful.
"As you wish." Belle fought back a giggle that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed. He arched an eyebrow at her as he retrieved the hot sauce from the fridge, once more seeming taken aback at the sudden burst of cold air.
"Is something amusing, dearie?" He muttered darkly as he handed over the bottle.
"Nothing, nothing… I’ll explain it later." She mentally added The Princess Bride to her steadily growing list of pop culture to expose her guest to. She tipped a small portion of the red liquid onto her omelet, retrieving a fork from a drawer and walking back to the bar with her breakfast on a plate. Dracula followed, picking up the discarded bottle and examining it curiously.
"What exactly is this potion? It does bear a strong resemblance to blood. I wonder…" He unscrewed the cap and gave the contents an uncertain sniff.
"Actually that’s-" She began, but cut off as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a deep swig. "…sriracha."
"Strange. I’ve never tasted such an odd- and strong- combination of spices before." He took another sip. "I quite like it."
"I thought vampires couldn’t eat human food." Belle told him, taking a bite of her omelet.
"Well have you ever asked one?" He smirked. "Actually, most can’t. It only the higher level ones, those that can still appear human, that can still stomach it. Even then, it’s about as nourishing as air. But the taste is fine."
"I can’t say that I’ve ever talked to one before, no. There’re hardly any vampires left nowadays; most of them were killed by hunters a long time ago. You’re the first one I’ve encountered."
"Is that so?" He muttered, his eyes once more darkening strangely. "Are you certain the monsters just haven’t learned better ways to conceal themselves?"
"I’m hardly certain of anything after running across you in that church."
"Hmm. Clever girl indeed."
"I try to be. Now, I suppose you’re pretty confused as to what sort of world you’ve woken up in…" She began, gesturing idly with her forkful of eggs.
"That would be an understatement."
"Well, since we’ve got a lot to discuss, is there anywhere you’d like to begin?"
"Yes. Tell me dearie, what has become of the Brotherhood?"
