Castlevania Darkness Never Dies2B

Disclaimer: I do not own any part in Castlevania, neither characters nor games. These are trademark of Konami and Nintendo.

Part 2: Legacy of Sorrow.

””Do not go against God, who is with me.””

2. Chronicles: 35. 21.

Intro 1: Prologue.

The forest, Warakiya. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

She ran. The snow slowed her feet. She knew it was in vain. He was always there, behind her. The hot breath in her neck. She knew what he wanted. She would never let him have it. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Then she suddenly tripped. She fell on her face. She barely managed to get up. She heard his footsteps. He was there! His shadow fell upon her. She screamed. Only once. Then she went silent. The man-beast held her in his arms. She looked up into his face. There was nothing left. She just fainted.

Throne room, the castle in the forest. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

Gilles De Reis walked through the castle. He held the lantern aloft. Mist shrouded the final approach. The vampire reached destination. The doors slammed shut. He was not alone. “Thou have come.” Actrise was excited. His coffin lay upon the alter. “Est might begin.” The witch told him what to do. Then they waited. “The time is right.” The Dark Lord’s closest ally had emerged. “The embodiment of suffering.” His voice was a whisper in their mind. Gilles knelt. As did his conspirators. Actrise opened the ritual book. Their chant made the candles lit with blue fire. The casket was glowing red. There was something wrong. He felt it. Death slashed his weapon. The girl was beheaded. Her blood stained the coffin. Blue light shone through the openings. Actrise laughed by her misery. This was not 1844. They where not in his castle. What was the meaning of this? The headless body turned into crimson liquid. A bolt of lightning struck down. The lid of the coffin flew open. A tall figure, clad in black, rose from within. Gilles knew him. “Lord Dracula!” They cried in unison. The prince of Darkness held up his fist. It burned with blue flame. Count Dracula had returned.

The forest, Warakiya. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

The hunting path led into the forest. “This is all wrong.” Heinrich Schneider didn’t like it. He wasn’t afraid to say so. Patrick Oldrey shook his head. ”It’s like you told.” He looked around. “This is the heart of the forest.” The man-beast had a hand on his shotgun. Heinrich let go of the Undead Killer whip. ”It is.” Torah said. The Fernandez girl didn’t look all that happy. Mist and gloom purmiated the air. Although it was winter outside the forest, it was autumn in here. The woodland stank like a rotting corpse. “This is cursed earth.” Rose whispered. The dank air made it difficult for her to fly. Even her glow looked dim. Heinrich worried about her. He hoped the fairy would be alright. “Torah.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “If you can’t follow. I understand.” The 12 year old met his gaze. “I’m okay.” She promised. Then she smiled. “Thanks, Heinrich. But this is something I have to do.” Heinrich knew that. The undead had abducted her own sister. They where not real sisters. Saria was a dryad. How could they be blood related? That was none of his business. The black clouds told of the coming storm. Heinrich already heard distant thunder. “Perfect.” Patrick muttered. “That was just what we needed.” Heinrich touched his crucifix. The weather might be their worst enemy. “We might get sick.” HE said. Torah shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Rose lit up. “The rain might clean the plague.” Torah looked sad. “That won’t be enough.” Heinrich was unsure how to act. He had promised to hunt the undead. What should he do about the forest? Heinrich knew they where all connected through the great circle of life. The ice proved as much. The men exchanged glances. Neither of them really trusted the elder people. Too many had chosen the lords of shadow. Thunder cracked overhead. Distant lightning struck the forest. Then it began raining. The downpour felt like a shower. Heinrich flailed the chain-whip. The bats had come. That was no surprise. The mammals hunted at night. Patrick fired a boom from his shotgun. “Homing ball!” Torah cast her magic spell. She shot for the skeletons. The bone-men rose from the ground. Heinrich grind his teeth. Neither of them could help her. Torah didn’t need it. Heinrich got the axe. He threw them at the enemies. That made lightning strike. Patrick changed into his man-wolf form. His sword blazed with power. “Watch out!” Heinrich ran to retrieve his weapon. A band of zombies appeared from the soil. “Help me, God!” Heinrich cracked the Undead Killer. The chain-whip caught fire. He made the sign of the cross. Heinrich inherited the force of his ancestors. The rotting corpses tried to grasp him. Heinrich snarled. They where not going to make him into a meal. Heinrich whipped them into oblivion. He threw the crystal in a high arch. The zombies where defeated. Where were his friends? There was no time to consider. The cold air told of the ghosts. Heinrich shuddered. He could see them. The ability to see beyond the obvious made it possible. “Good Lord in Heaven.” His voice was a whisper. “Please, give me your strength and courage.” HE would have to see and to fight at the same time. The ghosts reached for his heart. One toutch and he would be more then dead. Heinrich would be possessed. Then he would become an agent of evil. Heinrich cracked his whip. The ghost moaned. He sounded so alone. Heinrich was able to release them from Dracula’s curse. The zombie bit him. Heinrich kicked the thing backward. He thanked the Lord he wore armoured footwear. The head flew through the air. Heinrich almost threw up. HE swallowed. Heinrich threw the axe. The corpse burned. The freak wasn’t alone. Heinrich unsheathed his sword. This had to end. Heinrich summoned his bloodline mystics. With fierce determination, he dug his blade into the earth. The ground shook. “Jesus Christ!” Heinrich called for the Lord. The corpses got thrown sky-high. The earth turned over and buried the bodies. Heinrich where forced to his knees. This was his second attempt. The blood power was terrible when used against others. Heinrich struggled back up. The field had been turned over. Heinrich staggered. He dropped the sword. Heinrich sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree. He made it tumble. Torah would kill him. He shook his head. Heinrich had lost the dagger and axe. He was grateful there where some items left. Heinrich touched the whip. He would have to fight on his own. His friends where gone. Heinrich hoped they where still alive. He felt dazed. Heinrich sat back down. He rested his head on the forearms. What was he to do? Heinrich reached for the crucifix. He’d promised to help the townsfolk. The track led to the castle in the forest. They would go that way. Heinrich was certain. He got on foot. Heinrich would head for the castle. Patrick and Torah would be waiting for him. Heinrich picked the blade. Then he got moving.

Patrick Oldrey-Lecarde reloaded his shotgun. The dead haunted these grounds. He put it away. Patrick snarled. Let them come. He tore the skeletons to pieces. Silver howled his triumph. Patrick changed back into his human form. He was going home. They never told the whole story. Heinrich and Torah hadn’t asked him any questions. Patrick wondered what Thomas might’ve told the Belmonts. The bone-men attacked. Patrick released his energy scythe. His father trained them in the ancient arts of their species. Patrick was a man-beast. Saria knew about it. She told while trying to flirt with him. The skeletons got crushed. Patrick relaxed. The ground was littered with bones. If only they’d remained to fight. Things might’ve been different. Their father could’ve been alive. Patrick muttered. They never should’ve purchased the castle. His family had been among the wealthiest people in Walachia. Patrick loved his father. Jacob was a nice man. He used a fortune to restore the estate. Patrick sighed. This was getting him nowhere. He didn’t want to remember. Patrick had lost his friends. He was ashamed. His father thought him that a warrior should keep his friends close. Patrick gathered. He got his sword. He got the shotgun and his crucifix. Patrick would use his abilities. He wasn’t the chosen. Patrick kissed his crucifix. He belonged to the Orthodox Church. He felt comforted. Patrick knew he would have to face his own fear. It all began right here. He exhaled. Patrick had promised to save the children. He also told he would aid Heinrich in his quest. Patrick unsheathed his weapon. He began walking. Though he kept sharp watch. Patrick would be ready if the monsters arrived. Although he knew this place. He knew it like the back of his hand. Patrick used to play here when he was a child. He had climbed in that tree. And over there, was the clearing in which Monique gave his first kiss. Strange how he forgot. Patrick threw it aside. He got to be cautious if he where to survive.

Torah Fernandez got ready. She could see the ghost. “You don’t scare me.” She boasted. That was not true. Torah felt cold inside. Her grandmother warned her. The ghost might possess the living. The air was filled with phantoms. Torah was alone. She wouldn’t reveal her feelings. Torah fought her tears. She wouldn’t die on her birthday. She moved. Carrie’s ring smash went through the air. The ghosts moaned. They got cut down. Torah cheered. The legend was true. The razor rings where no ordinary weapons. Not that they might be compared with the Vampire Killer. But still… “Homing ball!” Torah spun round while releasing orbs of purple plasma. The ghost cried. She hoped they wouldn’t detect her use of magic. The orbs lit up in the mist. Torah stopped. The ghosts had vanished. She giggled. Torah couldn’t help it. “You did it!” Rose exclaimed. The fey hid in her backpack. Torah smiled. She soon got serious. Torah hung up the ring smash. Rose settled upon her shoulder. The weather kept her from flying. Torah frowned. This was not an ordinary climate. Rose didn’t really belong to the winter. Each season had its own order. Such was the law. Yoko told as much. Torah almost began to weep. They used to celebrate her birthday. She tried to gather. “Yoko.” She all but breathed the name. “I’ll make you proud of me.” She touched the cross. Torah was a member of the protestant church. She regretted not having practised her faith. Both Yoko and Mathilda encouraged her. Torah’s parents made her baptize. Torah had renewed her belief. Yoko Belnades was disappointed she didn’t join with the secret exorcist organisation. They where the undertakers of the Catholic Church. “Rose.” Torah began moving. “If I get back to Boston, I’ll grant you a mystic item.” Even through the gloom, Rose beamed. Torah smiled. She hoped she would live to keep her promise.

He had stalked them. He saw them hunt. He smiled. They fought gallantry. The man-wolf, the Belmont and the little witch. He knew about them. He knew how to manipulate their actions. He had forced them apart. He broke their fellowship. He laughed. This was perfect. The child began to sob. He whispered in his ear. Comforting him. Assuring him. That it all would be fine. He began to play his violin. That eased his tensions. The music was a resource. He could use it to sooth his victims. While he still played, they went into the forest.

The forest, Warakiya. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

Heinrich looked skyward. Thunder roared above his head. Lightning struck down. The sudden flash made him notice. The sign stood to the left of the road. An arrow pointed back to the village of Doina. The second told how far it was to Trista’s pass. Heinrich waited for a second strike. Then he saw the third marker. The storm raged across the sky while he red. “Castle Krohnquist.” Chills went down his spine. It’d been a joke. Heinrich had been here before. He and Alicia used to celebrate the holidays with Patrick’s family. One Easter, Heinrich and his friends had gone out skiing. The old couple which lived at the farm had offered them hot chocolate. Julia told that the farm lay on ancient ground. Heinrich exhaled. This was not the time. Rain was pouring. Heinrich went down the lane. The path led south. That would make him astray from the demon castle. Heinrich went this way. He wouldn’t go back to Ravenberg. The trees grew close together. The rain didn’t make the mist subside. Heinrich stopped. That was the sound of horses. A fork in the road hid them from view. Heinrich felt suddenly uneasy. He got off the road. He hid behind the trees. Heinrich reached for the Undead Killer. He felt so cold. Cold as winter’s heart. Heinrich threw himself on the ground. His gaze was fixed on the road. The riders came from the Tainyor Mountains. The figures where disguised as riders in black. The leader carried a scythe upon his back. Heinrich shuddered while they passed. He’d heard about them before. He challenged the grim reaper. Through the grace of God, he emerged victorious. An old saying came to mind. “Wherever count Dracula is, Death is his servant.” Heinrich touched the crucifix. He got to believe. Heinrich belonged to the Orthodox Church. The Lord would be with him. He prayed to all good Saints they would help and guide him. The riders where gone. Heinrich got up. He went on the lane. Heinrich crossed himself. He held the whip in hand. They might return. He continued. A shriek echoed through the night. Heinrich shuddered. His enemy dived for his location. Huge black wings almost kept the rain out. Skeletal hands, burned and withered, reached out from within the cloak. Heinrich struck the darkside. The wicked being disappeared from sight. Heinrich had a look around. The former magician appeared within the forest. The black shroud concealed his crippled body. Heinrich knew he once was a man. Not anymore. The darkside spread his huge bat wings. The enemy lept. He screamed while taking to the air. Heinrich ducked. The talons might shred him. Heinrich wished he still got the axe. He sidestepped as the demon threw itself forward. The former human collided like a meteor. Heinrich pulled back. That impact should’ve killed any normal being. The darkside was nothing of the sort. He was an evil force who had taken physical form. The twisted monster got back up. He stared out from within the hood. Heinrich didn’t meet his eyes. The darkside looked like something out of his worst nightmare. The burned skin lay around the skull like ancient parchment. The stare where red flame. Heinrich swallowed. His rasped breath was black smoke. Heinrich tightened his grip. Crescent horns rose from the forehead. He picked together. He thought of Christopher Belmont. How did he defeat this devil? Heinrich had no time. The glaring eyes shot parallel beams of fire. Heinrich threw himself sideways. This was no mere Hellspawn. The scholar had released powers he couldn’t control. Thus he became a plaything of wizardry. The darkside moved. There was a glimmer in gold. A skull pin closed the cape at the neck. Heinrich struck him in the face. His enemy disappeared. Something made him to look into the forest. The crystal flouted in the air. Heinrich ran. “For Christopher!” He shouted. The chain-whip was on fire. He struck the crystal. The gem shattered. The darkside was back. His jaws opened into an eternity of fire. Heinrich was certain he looked right into the regions of Hel. The destroyed creature released a sort of boiling fireball. Heinrich didn’t even try to block. The darkside punched him. He touched the crucifix. “Christ!” Heinrich called. “Give me strength!” His spirit was strong. A circle of crosses rose in protection. The images protected against evil. The enemy made lightning strike. Heinrich was still protected. The darkside spread his wings. Heinrich couldn’t allow him to escape. The demon would tell the undead. Heinrich reached for the crucifix. He got the heart of fire. Heinrich was lifted into the air. The three enflamed crosses burst in place. He screamed. The attack made the villain to collapse. That should’ve been the end. That wasn’t the case. The darkside got up. The talons ripped the earth. The enemy glared. “So let it be.” Heinrich decided he would fight to the death. Alicia would take his place. Torah and Patrick would continue the chase. Parallel beams shot at his heart. “Be your will!” Heinrich got water in his blood. The jewel whip blocked the assault. The darkside made lightning strike. Heinrich got away. The darkside approached. He kept twirling the current. Heinrich pulled back. The demon forced him into the forest. Heinrich got no compass. He might get lost. That wasn’t important right now. Heinrich threw the crystal. The result was extraordinary. The darkside exploded. Or so it seemed. Then a boiling fireball came his way. The fight wasn’t over. The enemy struck with his current. Heinrich leapt for the crystal. He still got water flowing in his veins. A huge crystal fell down. Heinrich got protected within the flood. He dropped the sub-weapon. He dashed for the flouting gem. Heinrich struck his jewel whip. The demon reappeared. He threw himself for his location. Heinrich managed to sidestep. He grind his teeth. The darkside drew blood with his nails. That made him drop the whip. The darkside came around. Heinrich unsheathed his blade. He buried the sword deep within the flesh of his opponent. He shrieked. Heinrich felt like going deaf. The darkside vanished. Heinrich retrieved the Undead Killer. He knew the monster would be back. Blood ran down his side. Heinrich was breathing heavily. How long could he survive? The crystal was there. Heinrich summoned his bloodline mystics. The whip became a bar of gold. His spirit shone through. Heinrich whipped the gem to pieces. The darkside was back. Although he staggered. Heinrich didn’t wait. This was war. His blade sparked. Heinrich stabbed his enemy. The Eigius sword channelled lightning through his body. Heinrich made the sign of the cross. The darkside shot parallel beams. He ducked beneath. He let go of the blade when striking the whip. The scholar disappeared from view. Heinrich chased the crystal. He stamped with the crucifix. Flames absorbed his gem. The wicked was back. Black smoke obscured his being. Heinrich withdrew. His eyes told of certain death. Heinrich got struck by the current. He screamed in pain. The darkside approached. The current really was a whip. Heinrich grasped his crucifix. He was lifted into the air. The electric crosses went counter clockwise. The darkside was scorched. Heinrich landed before the enemy. Then he almost fainted. The darkside kicked. Heinrich struck the Undead Killer. He used the remaining energy to create the flame whip. The villain grew rigid. Then he disappeared. Heinrich was ready. He kept whipping the crystal. The darkside resurfaced. Black smoke filled the air. His mouth and eyes where on fire. Heinrich held onto the whip. The darkside screamed. Then flames burned up from within. “Let it be.” Heinrich said. He made the sign of the cross. “In the name of the Lord.” The darkside collapsed into a heap of ashes. Heinrich stood watching. After a while, he went to pick up the blade. He cleaned upon a rock. Heinrich sheated the sword. He went to search for the crystal. Heinrich didn’t find it. His expression turned grim. That was the last of the mystic weapons. Then again, neither of them where real Belmont heirlooms. Heinrich found them within the candles. He touched the hilt of the blade. It was a Christmas gift. He recoiled the whip. Heinrich unsheathed the sword. He knocked the candles. He picked the crystals. He also found some money. Heinrich ate the chicken while walking. His strength returned. Heinrich hoped there where no more darksides abroad. The food really restored his energy. He knew that greater perils lay ahead. That was no reason for getting into trouble. The undead might’ve smelled his blood. Heinrich reached for the crucifix. He prayed they didn’t hunt him already. Time would show. He continued his journey.

The farm was empty. Patrick almost began to cry. Juri and Alexia was the closest he ever got to grandparents. The farmhouses looked stained by fire. The animals had been left to rot. It was raining. Aaron. This was all because of Aaron. “Who is there?” The voice trembled. Patrick unsheathed his sword. The mist was clearing. Someone sat upon the well. Coils of dark hair hid her face. The girl wore nothing but a torn white nightgown. The golden chain got his attention. Patrick knew that necklace. He’d given it to… “Monique?” He asked. “Is that you?” She turned her head. “Gabriel?” A shaky smile appeared on her lips. “Have you come back to me?” She reached for him with open arms. Then Monique hid her face. “Get away from me!” She screamed. “Leave me alone!” Patrick was confused. Monique was the granddaughter of the couple which lived on the farm. 4 years ago, before his tragedy, he’d proclaimed his love. “Evil men came to the farm.” Monique barely could speak. “They searched for you and your brother.” Patrick felt his blood turn cold. “My grandfather would tell them nothing.” Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. “They burned him alive.” She managed to meet his gaze. “They used my home as pyre. Those murderers either killed or chased off our animals.” Monique hid her face. “They had me. And they took me.” She sobbed. “They did terrible things to me.” Patrick dropped his blade. He picked her up. She pushed him away. Patrick hit the ground. “I hunger.” She breathed. “It’s tearing me apart.” Her big dark eyes burned with unholy fire. “I’ll take it from you.” Monique licked her ruby lips. Patrick shuddered. Her fangs got exposed. “I have become a woman.” He recognised the crisp tone in her voice. It made him think of his little sister who played on water glasses. Patrick shook his head. He got up. “Gabriel, please.” Monique slipped into his arms. “I know what you desire.” Patrick looked down into her eyes. His hand lay on her bosom. Monique smiled. She was about to pull up her gown. Under which, she was naked. Patrick shuddered. He didn’t know if it was ecstasy or disgust. She was only 17 years old. His mind felt numb. Patrick couldn’t decide. She pulled his head down to kiss him. Patrick waited. Waited in a state of lazed ecstasy. Monique went below his lips. Then lower still. She seemed to settle for his throat. Then she suddenly let go. “How dare you!?” The crucifix fell from within his jacket. “How dare you betray me!?” His image made Patrick wake up. “No! Not you!” He pulled the shotgun. “Whore of Lucifer!” He fired several booms. Monique, the creature who once was Monique, was hit twice. The bullets shot through her chest. The impact threw her backward. She staggered. She then fell down into the well. Patrick heard when she hit the water. That would kill her. He frowned. Someone had mentioned about the forest. When the earth was poisoned, all would be polluted. Something was climbing the side of the well. “Blasted.” Patrick cursed. He forgot. You couldn’t shoot an undead. That was the scent of rotting flesh. Patrick shuddered. Someone appeared from the bottom of the well. He didn’t want to see. She glared with red burning eyes. The corpse had rested long in deep water. The vampire kept approaching. “They threw my corpse in the well.” The words where barely audible. The tongue which spoke had long since lost its ability. Patrick knew what he must do. He didn’t like it. But it was part of being a vampire hunter. Before she might reach him, he retained the man-beast form. Patrick knew his eyes shone like polished gold. He dashed. The neck and heart. That where their only weak points. Monique changed into her girl shape. She slashed her claws. Patrick howled. She tried to bite him. Patrick let loose the scythe. Monique threw herself down. She quickly crawled along the ground. She got up to stab him. Patrick stamped with his crucifix. She screamed like a forsaken soul. Patrick went for the kill. Monique conjured bats. They flew into his face. Patrick got rid just as she rose up. The female vampire stabbed her nails. Patrick snarled. He held her tight while releasing energy. Monique kicked him. She conjured bats. Patrick staggered. “Now Gabriel.” She licked her lips. “You are mine.” She urged for his blood. Before she could bite him, Patrick channelled through his crucifix. The shining beam of solid energy sent her sprawling. He shot the bats. Minique vanished into the mist. She reappeared before him. Monique stabbed. Patrick ducked. He slashed his own nails. The female vampire got caught off guard. Monique healed herself. Patrick threw himself forward. She didn’t react in time. Patrick thorn her neck. Her head fell back. He almost beheaded her. Patrick howled. He dug into her chest. Blood splashed like a fountain. Patrick was painted red. He didn’t care. Patrick pulled her heart out. He burned it in a torch of man-wolf energy. “Forgive me.” Monique breathed. For one last time, they looked into each other’s eyes. Then she crumbled into dust. Patrick shuddered. He picked the golden necklace. It was a gift. Patrick felt wet on his cheeks. He wept. “Farewell.” He whispered. Patrick threw the pledge into the well. He dried his tears. Patrick retained his human form. He sighed. Patrick claimed his blade. He re-sheathed his weapon. He looked around. The farm was still abandoned. Patrick kissed the crucifix. That was no icon. Though he was grateful. Monique was free. He smiled. He would keep her as a holy memory. The river was ahead. The water came down from the mountains. Patrick had a last look on the farm. Then he went for the stream. There was no bridge. Patrick exhaled. He should’ve remembered. The crossing lay further up. Patrick changed into his man-beast form. He bent down to clean himself. The water wasn’t good. Patrick shuddered. He was careful not to drink. Patrick inspected the landscape. There came a flash of lightning. Patrick pulled back. The castle was close. He shook away loose strings of dark hair. Patrick pulled his pistol. He made the sign of the cross. Finally, he was going home. Patrick would find the bridge. This time, he wouldn’t run away. The fog grew thick about him.

Torah had reached the river. The rain soaked her dark blonde hair. The school uniform was stuck to her body. She didn’t mind. Torah got greater problems. The water blocked her way. Torah touched the front of her blouse. It felt rather tight. She was becoming a woman. Torah played with the homing ball. She tried to make a decision. What should she do? She sighed. This was a waste of time. The river stanched. Everything stanched. Torah bit her lip. If only she’d studied the wind school. Then she could’ve flown across. Or created a whirlwind. All she got was flame, frost and spirit. She kept playing with the ball. Torah got dryad blood. She licked her lips. There might be a way. She let go of the ball. Torah bit together. She hoped this would work. She knelt upon the ground. “What are you going to do?” Rose asked. Torah told her to be silent. She hoped God would help her. Torah folded her hands. She tried not to mind about the death leaves. Torah inhaled. She focused upon herself. Torah relaxed. She felt her spirit blossom. Yoko would be proud. Torah struggled. She had to purify the river. There was something. If only… Torah knew she got greater power. She closed her eyes. She pushed against the barrier. Torah got through before. She could do it again. She had to make it. Torah opened her mouth. The resistance collapsed. Torah sang. She would make it. “You can do it!” Rose exclaimed. “I know you can!” Torah put a finger on her lips. The fairy settled on her shoulder. Torah fought to make it work. The water remained the same. Torah knew she was shining bright. That was the least of her problems. Torah went silent. The spell had failed. No, she had failed. Torah was gasping. For a while, she just sat there. “We shall get across.” Rose tried to comfort. Torah hung her head. Saria spoke the truth. She shook her head. “You’re right.” She told her companion. “We shall find a way.” Torah got up. Rose fluttered before her face. She smiled. The fairy sometime felt like a little sister. Torah produced the ring smash. She would go up the river. Torah didn’t know what might be ahead. So be it. She would be ready. “Let’s go.” Torah said. Then, with Rose settled upon her shoulder, she went forward. They soon vanished among the shadows.

He watched the girl enter the forest. She was a puzzle. He frowned. There was something very familiar about her music. Then he recognised. The lyric was a dryad tune. It was not possible! Anyone could play the music. Though only someone with elder blood might awaken its potency. His hands became fists. He could not have been mistaken. That would be a catastrophe. Saria had to be the chosen one. He had seen it. Felt it. Tasted its flavour. The boy asked him. He showed him what to do. The child laughed. They both disappeared.

The forest, Warakiya. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

Heinrich came out from the forest. He’d reached a farm. Heinrich knew this place. Though the farm had been deserted. He recoiled the whip. There where none of the undead. Heinrich made the sign of the cross. He couldn’t stay. Heinrich disliked the rain. He didn’t like the look of the river either. Everything felt wrong. He passed the well. The mist was getting heavy. He could still see. Heinrich stood on the shore. The other side was obscured in gloom. There was no bridge. Heinrich turned. He went slightly upstream. There where no passing. Still, he soon came upon some rotten planks. This must’ve been a ferry. Heinrich blew the horn. He didn’t know why he did that. Heinrich put it back. Nothing happened. He smiled. Though without humour. What did he expect? Something moved within the mist. Heinrich cracked the Undead Killer. He heard the ore long before he actually saw him. The ferryman. Both Simon and Richter Belmont described him. Reinhardt Schneider also earned his services. Heinrich reached into his purse. The shrouded figure reached a hand. Heinrich put the gold coin into his black leather glove. “I’ll take you to a place that might be interesting to you.” Heinrich blinked. “What?” He licked his lips. “What do you mean?” The ferryman had reached ashore. “Have you ever heard the tale about the chosen one?” Heinrich shook his head. Never ask the ferryman a question. He was hard to figure and always spoke in mysterious ways. “It is a tale passed down from mother to daughter among the dryad people.” Heinrich sat on the bench. Although rotten, it supported his weight. “Long ago, the druids came to live in this forest.” Heinrich touched the crucifix. Was he finally going to get some answers? “They where designated to study the ancient lore of the elven folk.” Heinrich Wished he got an umbrella. He was soaked. “They where some of the most brilliant scholars of their time.” The ferryman didn’t seem to mind about the weather. “Some of their greatest disciples uncovered the mystery of the forgotten magic.” Heinrich shuddered. “Though they could not control it.” The muttered voice got low. Heinrich sighed. It was the same old story. Greed was never the key to real knowledge. Power without love was doomed to failure. “The others soon discovered what these darksides had done.” Heinrich made the sign of the cross. So that was it. The answer to all the riddles. Or was it? “They where captured. And bound to the living earth.” The ferryman moved for him to step aboard. “Time went by, and the druids passed out of history.” Heinrich got up. He went on the ferry. “Only the prophecy remained. That the evil force would awaken and realize its potency.” The ferryman remained ashore. Heinrich stared into the mist. Saria had told him about this. Heinrich had been a fool. He was so focused on Dracula that he didn’t realize its importance. “Then a chosen one will appear. A dryad gifted with ancient power.” The ferryman was still speaking. “She shall purify the forest, and imprison evil forever.” Heinrich exhaled. Dimitri Blinov tried to absorb the force through dominance. The ferryman was looking at him. “You know of whom I speak?” Heinrich turned round. “What do you know?” He demanded. The ferryman didn’t answer. He just kept gazing. Heinrich dismissed about it. He wondered if they would ever get started. “You have to wait.” The ferryman muttered. “They have not arrived.” Heinrich kissed the crucifix. His friends had to be alive. If he told the truth. Much might be said about the ferryman. But he never lied. Not when he spoke at all. Rain kept pouring down. Something moved. Heinrich cracked the whip. “There you are.” Patrick put the shotgun away. Heinrich smirked. “Nice to see you too.” He hung up the Undead Killer. “Wait for us!” Torah came running up. Rose looked brighter then when he last saw her. “Be your will.” Heinrich crossed himself. “I’m glad you survived.” He knelt to give her a quick embrace. Then he let go. “I’ll take you to a nice spot.” The ferryman told. Torah and Patrick got aboard. The ferryman began rowing. The shore soon disappeared from sight. The vampire hunters remained silent. Heinrich hoped he would live up to his legacy. He put a hand upon his family’s whip.

The villa, castle in the forest. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

Joseph Vincent looked out the window. The young man had entered the castle. He didn’t trust them. Vincent had been trained in the arts of vampire hunting. No one could match him in his own game. Although this was no competition. The Werewolf, the peasant and the witch would betray his village. Joseph Vincent had decided it would be otherwise. He got the plight to protect his family and neighbours. Thus he would prove the trio guilty. Joseph turned. He had come this far. He inspected the arsenal. Then he left the room behind.

Throne room, castle in the forest. The 6th. Of January 2099 A.D.

He sat upon the burial box. To fetch Dracula’s coffin had been an important victory. He played on the violin. He knew about their intentions. That was not going to work. So far, nothing had changed his arrangements. He got what he wanted. The Master used him well. The dryad would grant him her might. He would fulfil the prophecy. A new master would come to the castle. He would inherit all of Dracula’s powers. The boy red his book. He gazed up. He assured him it would be fine. Indeed, soon all would be fine. Forever.

The angel looked down. Death knew what was expected. He still remembered the words of count Dracula. “Thou arth to kill the Belmont clan.” So it was. His last command. The grim reaper knew what to do. They tried to complete the circle. Death would raise the Dark Lord from the grave. There where more at stake then their squabble about power. He would do what he must. In the meanwhile, he got work to do. The boy would stop at nothing. The grim reaper would watch his progress. All which transpired had done so according to their desire.

(A.N: This is the intro to the first “quest” in this second book of my series. I hope you liked it. The rush for Dracula’s power has begun. Have a nice time.)