Fan Fiction

"Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow may have its true sequel, but many of the fans who were taken in by the original's tale of deception, self-affirmation and revelation have seen its future course to a different end. The latest author to make his debut, The Crossman, shows us an iteration resulting from the inevitable failure of Julius Belmont's eclipsed-powered seal; in a world where a Soma Cruz is sorely lacking, the time is ripe for the Dark Lord to return. It's in Castlevania: Darkness Never Dies where the responsibility of combating the greater evil once again lay with those pesky Belmonts and their like-named friends. Indeed, all of the names, places and events tie together to bring us back full-circle."

Castlevania: Darkness Never Dies

By The Crossman

Part 1: Curse of Blood

Landmap | Character List | Prologue

Intro 1 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Intro 2 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Intro 3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Part 2: Legacy of Sorrow

Take Me to Part 2


Castlevania Darkness Never Dies1

By: The Crossman.

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

Part 1: Curse of Blood.

The year 2098 A. D, The cold winter holds the land in an iron grip. The masses are loosing faith in prosperity. The import of essential good to the outskirts of Europe has become impossible. The catastrophe Have made thousands of people into refuges. Cold and hunger have caused the death of millions. The bands of renegades are growing stronger every day. But as the people are fleeing south, other, more dangerous powers has awakened. For almost 70 years, the land slept peacefully after the victory of Soma Cruz. Then the serenity of Transylvania where disturbed by destructive forces. As the old legend tells; every 100 years, the forces of God mysteriously starts to weaken. Thus the power of Dracula starts to revive itself. His power grows stronger and stronger, every one hundred years. Those who yields for Chaos and darkness, crave of the Dark Lord’s return. This threat, considered to be forever prevented by the eclipse act in 1999, has failed. He who sealed Dracula’s powers, is dead. The few who remember, are being haunted by terrible visions of the future. The heirs to the house of Belmont must once again accept the challenge. “He must never be allowed to return.” They must face the Dark Lord, alone…

“It is happening again.

A crimson moon, and dying stars.

Living nightmare walks the earth at night.

The dead rides fast, and a circle never end.

A new aria of war has begun.

I can feel it, as a breath of death,

like a feeling of dread.

Soon the enemy of man will awake.

What once was, shall again be.

This, I foretell.”

An unknown seer. June, 2096 A.D.

“In order so that the words spoken by the Lord, through his prophet, might be fulfilled.”

Mathew: 2. 15.

Prologue: Message of Darkness.

Tokyo, Japan. The 8th. of October 2098 A.D.

Noriko ran. This was the downtown of Tokyo. She tripped. Noriko fell down. She angrily began dusting off. Then she froze. They had arrived. She recognised the Egyptian. She’d been bitten on her 18th. Birthday. Long black hair fell down her shoulders. Noriko couldn’t help but shudder. The companion was Japanese. She licked her ruby lips. They looked on her with red burning eyes. Noriko hid her face. They laughed. That was the foul crispy sound of water glasses played on by a cunning hand. It sent chills through her blood. “You can’t escape.” The Egyptian cooed. Her fangs where exposed. The Japanese kept licking her lips and fangs. Noriko pulled her messy black hair down. She was only 8 years old. She didn’t want to die. “Your blood belongs to the prince of Darkness.” She smiled. “Give yourself to the dark side.” The Egyptian demanded. “Experience the glory of the eternal night.” Her eyes lit with extecy. Her jacket was open. The white T-shirt didn’t conceal much. “You will come to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.” She wouldn’t give in. “Never!” Noriko shouted. She caused flames in the night. Noriko wasted no time. She was running for her life. Noriko only knew of one safe place. The Hakuba shrine stood on sacred ground. Noriko would reach that place.

Hakuba-shrine, Tokyo. The 8th. of October 2098 A.D.

The Brazilian jumped on top. The Vietnamese opened a vain. Noriko wouldn’t drink. She stamped her forehead. The scream was terrible. Noriko gasped. She stared at the crucifix. The sisters revealed their claws. Noriko presented the cross. They fled from her. Why did they leave? Noriko didn’t understand. “Noriko.” She felt cold. Though the voice was soothing. He spoke with a French accent. “Dark child.” Noriko heard the smile in his voice. “Full circle.” The mist changed. Noriko bit her lips. He was a man. The whitish blonde hair wasn’t anything she’d seen before. His grey eyes pierced her. He was absolutely gorgeous. Noriko knew he was a vampire. She still felt attracted. He was clad in white. Only the tie was a spec of colour. “Who are you?” He smiled. “You should know me.” He bowed. “I am simply a missionary. My name is Graham.” She knew the name. “Excuse me.” Graham made a gesture. “You have been summoned.” Noriko couldn’t bare it. She ran away. She went up the stairs. “You cannot escape your destiny!” Graham shouted. Noriko didn’t care. She had to get away. The stair felt longer then expected. It was like something prevented her from entering. When she reached the gate, Noriko blacked out. The last she heard, was his laugher. Then, she knew no more.

Boston, USA. The 10th. of November 2098 A.D.

Yoko’s eyes was all she could see. “Gently now, my dear. Feel the flow of the power within.” Her grandmother held her hands tightly. “Concentrate.” She said. “When you feel yourself ready, begin.” Torah Fernandez smiled. “Yes, grandmother Yoko.” She did all she could. This time, Torah really felt something. The barrier had wavered. The connection only lasted for a second. But that was all she needed. “Very good, Torah.” Her smile was like sunshine. “You should rest for a while.” Yoko suggested. Torah did as she was told. She deserved the breather. “Calm yourself.” Torah nodded. She laid down on the sofa. Torah looked up through the cellar window. The glass was white. Snow was falling over the city. Just as it had these past weeks. For once, Torah didn’t worry. She looked at her grandmother. Yoko Belnades was an elderly woman. Though she was still beautiful. At least Torah thought so. The slender grace she kept from younger days. Yoko brushed her long silver hair away. Torah almost reached out to touch it. She was so found of her. Yoko was her only living relative. Torah’s parents where killed in a plane crash while she was still an infant. Her grandfather was dead. He was murdered by her family’s enemies. Yoko never told her why. Not until recent. They had waited for her to be ready. Torah was gifted with strong magical powers. Yoko had taken it on herself to teach her in the arts of sorcery. Torah smiled. The most difficult had been to master those outbursts of raw power. Weird things always seen to happen. Now, she was getting control. Torah could already tell the difference between the schools of magic. She only needed training. Yoko had learned her a few tricks. Torah knew she was only at the beginning. She would have to study the powers of ten. Each was named after what they might accomplish. Flame, frost, thunder, wind, earth, water, thought, life, spirit and light. Torah knew she was picking up pretty quick. Then there was the problem about the barricade. Yoko had assured she would achieve in time. In the meanwhile, Torah had to practise. Practise. She was about to ask her grandmother, when the bell rang. Someone was at the door. “Who can that be?” Yoko frowned. “Mathilda shouldn’t be back before three more days.” She shook her head. “Who might be out at this time of night?” The clock was close to midnight. Torah wasn’t really all that curious. She knew it would be training for at least two more hours. Yoko was her grandmother. But she could be strict. Torah yawned. She looked forward to get to bed. Torah was glad that Yoko only went this hard in weekends. Otherwise, she might get in trouble at school. “Put aside your books.” Her elder said. “Then meet me in the kitchen.” “Yes grandmother.” Torah said. She knew her duties. It was her job to make tee when guests arrived. Yoko smiled. Then she went upstairs. Torah got to work. She put aside the items which Yoko used during this lesson. Torah put them into the secret place. She then turned down the light. Yoko had been very serious when telling her how to keep their secrets. Torah left the room. She could hear her grandmother move about. Torah fastened her steps. Yoko had just opened the front door. Torah felt suddenly afraid. Though she couldn’t tell why. “Come in, come in.” Yoko greeted. “You must be freezing.” Torah exhaled. It would be alright. She better get to the kitchen. “I bless thee for thy kindness.” The voice belonged to a young man. Torah did like when she’d been a little girl. She peeked out from between the curtains. Torah knew they would make her invisible. Two figures had entered. Why had he spoken Romanian? Torah shrugged. Most of their visitors tend to be weird. The young man removed his cape. Beneath, he was clad in white laces and dark green velvet. Torah knew that was a Renaissance costume. Her teachers would be proud. The priest was far older. Torah thought he looked like a moving corpse. The round hat and moulding robes couldn’t conceal it. His piercing black eyes seemed to penetrate everything. The Renaissance man shook his mane of blonde hair. His blue eyes never seemed to blink. Torah tried to study the symbols upon the elder’s red cloak. ”Dietrich Orlock!” The outburst was so unlike her grandmother’s usual attitude. “This isn’t possible!” Yoko looked like she was about to cry. “Alucard killed you in 1797!” He smiled. Torah got a shiver. His fangs where revealed. Torah closed her eyes. She prayed this would be only another bad dream. But it wasn’t. Torah had red enough to know they where in danger. Yoko never should’ve invited them inside. “Beware of what thy speech.” Orlock’s eyes became like Hell’s fire. “Thee arth to die.” The priest spoke for the first time. “I am father Jeremiah.” He folded his hands. When he bowed, Torah noticed he got a shaved skull. “Thy may know mine by another name.” Torah could feel his power. “I am Shaft.” He stated. Then he smiled like winter’s heart. “Impossible.” Yoko repeated. “I have seen your name in my family’s log.” Torah knew that. Richter Belmont, Maria Renard and Alucard had slain the dark priest long ago. But he was here. “I know more then thou realize.” Shaft said. “That have nay relevance to thee.” Again that thin smile. “We arth dead.” He made a gesture. “Death within the walls of castle Dracula. The Dark Lord made it so.” His eyes where of the Devil. Yoko looked very old. “Thy time ist over.” Shaft continued. “Thee arth the last of thy kind.” Torah wished to scream. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. “When thou die.” Orlock said. “There will be no more Belnades to meddle in the count’s affairs.” With an evil laugher, he lifted his hand. The palm was turned outward. From between his long pale fingers, there came a sort of skull projectile. “Die, wench!” The skull shot went toward her grandmother. But Yoko was ready. With a wave of her staff, the old woman deflected with a flurry of large icicles. The explosion almost threw Torah back into the basement. “Yeah!” Yoko made heavy flames to burn. Her grandmother then shot the vampires. The flames got blocked by an array of magic orbs. Shaft made them to channel electricity. Orlock smiled. He made other flames to burn for her location. Torah held both hands to her mouth. With a magical guest, Orlock conjured other skulls. They all shot for her grandmother. Yoko lifted her hands into the air. A magic ball made lightning blast the place. The hall was a mess. Torah had no mind about it. She never really figured the power which Yoko achieved. “Thee cannot gain victory.” Shaft declared. Torah felt chills down her spine. He had somehow shielded against the magic. Orlock was flouting in the air. He suddenly dashed forward. Yoko got pushed backward. He slashed with his claws. Yoko grew rigid. Before she might react, the vampire shot other skulls. They went home. Her grandmother was struck in the chest. The impact hurled her away. Yoko fell to the floor. The duo bent over her body. Torah watched as Orlock checked her condition. “Her life ist over.” He then explained. “Good.” Shaft acknowledged. “The task is complete.” He seemed to inhale. “The house of the Belnades ist no more.” Orlock was cleaning his claws. “I should have loved to plunder.” The undead said in a slow voice. Torah shuddered. Tears went down her cheeks. They would find her. Then she would be their plaything. “He does nay crave her blood.” The dark priest remarked. “Our Aria ist over.” Shaft folded his arms in front. “So ist est.” Orlock retrived his cape. Torah felt her mouth fell open. The figures simply faded away. Torah didn’t waist time. She threw the curtains aside. “Yoko!” She ran toward her grandmother. Torah sobbed when she knelt by her side. “Yoko!” She repeated. Torah was horrified. There was so much blood. “Yoko.” Torah didn’t care about her school uniform. Yoko was all which mattered. The old woman mumbled something. “Carrie.” Torah only heard that name. Then Yoko opened her eyes. She smiled. “Torah.” She said. “You are alive. Then I haven’t failed.” Her voice trailed off. Then she fixed her gaze. “The blood of the great Sypha Belnades has not been lost.” Torah held her hands. “Yes, grandmother.” Torah said. “And so it must be.” Yoko closed her eyes. “For the sake of the pact.” Torah didn’t understand. It wasn’t important. Then Yoko tightened her grip. Torah almost winched. She was so strong. “Torah, listen to me.” She spoke with stern seriousness. “What is it?” Yoko inhaled. Or tried to. “Grandmother.” Torah tried to remember what she’d learned about healing magic. “Take the ring which I wear on my finger.” Yoko said. “Use it to open the seal in my room.” “You don’t have to worry.” Torah promised. She would do anything which Yoko wanted. “Take what you find in there.” Her grandmother instructed. Torah just nodded. “You must go to Europe. To the Vatican.” She had difficulty with breathing. “Tell them about your bloodline. That you are Fernandez.” Yoko tried to sit up. “This is important. The church will help you to get in touch with the Belmonts.” Torah couldn’t speak. “If it must be, travel, with them, to Romania, to Veros in Warakiya. Then ask for Morris and Schneider.” “Yes, grandmother. I will.” Torah finally found her voice. The old woman smiled. “Do not grief for me. Have faith in God. And do as I have said.” “I promise.” Torah assured. She still held her hand. “Farewel, granddaughter. May we meet again, in some better place.” Then Yoko Belnades passed away. Torah sobbed for she didn’t know how long. But finally she was able to act. Torah would at least try to pick the pieces together. She closed her grandmother’s eyes. That was all she could do. Mathilda would have to arrange with the funeral agency. Torah couldn’t stay. With much regret, she took the ring. She brushed through her dark blonde hair. Torah kept it cut short and close to the head. She felt like all was lost. Torah rubbed her brown eyes. She still hadn’t changed. Torah decided she wouldn’t bother. The uniform had been fresh out of the closet. She wasn’t dirty. Not even a little. Torah gathered. She better do as Yoko said. She got back on foot. Then Torah went upstairs.

Yoko’s bedroom looked just like she remembered. Everything was kept in good order. Her grandmother knew how to keep her things. She was used to long journeys. Torah inhaled. Yoko had been fond of the European Rococo period. Torah almost began to cry. She thought she had no tears left. She’d been mistaken. Torah made an effort to stay put. She used the spell which where to open. Yoko had told her what to do. Her lips shivered by the memory. Torah didn’t really sob that often. She opened the closet. There seemed to be only clothing within. Torah knew about the concealed location. There where many such places around the house. This was almost the same which she got in her own bedroom. There was two items inside. Torah pulled them out. She put the book aside. She would study it later. Torah was more interested in the ring smash. She knew about them. Her grandmother often told about Carrie Fernandez. She, together with Reinhardt Schneider and Henry Oldrey, had defeated Dracula in 1852. The razor-rings most certainly belonged to that legendary hunter. Torah shyly picked them up. She made a body swing, then a double cut motion, which she followed up with a crisscrossing strike. Torah smiled. It felt like the first time in this long and horrible night. Torah bit together. She wouldn’t think about that. Torah knew she could use this weapon. She was quick and agile. That she’d learned at school. The dancing course also kept her active. Torah tightened the grip on the ring smash. She wouldn’t let those vampires get away. She would use her talents against them. Torah sat down on Yoko’s bed. Her grandmother believed she could do it. Torah wouldn’t let her down. She hung the ring smash upon her belt. Then Torah opened the book. She noticed it was a chronicle. The text told about the exploits of the Belnades bloodline. There even was a family tree. Torah began to read. This was interesting. The tree explained the branching of her family. Gandolfi was at the head. The name seemed to date back to the 7th. Century. Then, it was changed to Belnades. The surname got altered during the 1300s. Then, in 1688, the linage had split for the first time. The result was the Renard and the Fernandez fractions. Though, during the 18th. Century, several branches had been noted. The Erlanger linage wasn’t really that important. She never actually met Anette. She didn’t even know where she lived. Torah had learned that several of her relatives had married into the Belmont clan. This proved that to be alright. She was most interested in her own linage. The line seemed to have branched again. The first, ended with herself. Torah’s family had kept the Fernandez Name. She knew that Yoko had tried to change it back to the original. But her father had kept to it. Though her uncle had accepted the change. The Renard family also had continued. The Lecarde had three names at the bottom. Thomas, Patrick and Julia. Though their last name had the Oldrey connection. Yoko said it was a result of the incident in 1999. Back then, a Lecarde clanswoman married the heir of Henry Oldrey. Torah sighed. She closed the book. This was getting her nowhere. She would read more later. But this wasn’t the time. Torah took the chronicle with her. She brought it to her bedroom. She looked at the bed. How nice wouldn’t it be to lay down to sleep. Torah dismissed the temptation. She got work to do. Torah put the book into her backpack. She wondered if she ever was to get back home. That was something she had to accept. Torah knew she had to. But it didn’t make things less difficult. She put some of her other stuff inside. Then she took the bag upon her shoulders. Torah should return to the cellar. She would need some of the things down there. She braised herself. Torah left the room. She reached the hall. Torah refused to look at her grandmother. Determined, she went underground. Torah almost broke when reaching their school room. She closed her eyes. She got to pull through. Torah produced the items. She organized as best she could. She was finished. Torah inhaled. She closed the bag. Torah then returned upstairs. She would have to take on her heavy cloathings. Yoko had fought her final battle. Now, it was her turn. Torah put on her poncho. It was of that heavy sort. Fit for the winter. Torah pulled the hood down over her head. She didn’t forget her gloves. Torah tied her green scarf around her neck. She’d changed her shoes already. Torah didn’t know how to contact Mathilda. Her aunt got no mobile. Torah just hoped she wasn’t dead already. Mathilda should be safe. She wasn’t really a blood relative. Torah would have to go to the airport alone. She was unsure what it might cost to get to Europe. Torah decided she would make it. She was a Fernandez. It didn’t matter she was only in training. Nor that she was only 12 years old. Torah would hunt the night. Other families should not have to suffer her fate. Torah would make it so. She hoped her ancestors would be proud of her. It would be a long journey. Torah was not to turn back. She would go. Even though the track could lead to the gates of Hell. She wouldn’t fail. Torah was ready. She opened the door. Then Torah went out into the cold blizzard night.

Veros forest, Warakiya. The 1st. of December 2098 A.D.

Victor was serious. “I tell you pall, it’s just damn impossible.” He waved his hands in the air. His breath was smoking with cold. “There’s no dogs this large. No wolves either.” He shrugged. “Why bother about it anyway?” His question was justified. This was dangerous times. “Why’re you so curious?” Victor asked. “There’s still plenty of work back in the village.” Thomas Oldrey-Lecarde made no answer. Edward Morris, one of his oldest friends, still was unsure. Thomas could share that emotion. There was something wrong about this. The tracks where to large. Victor Grant was right about that. He was the descendant of the Dinesti family. Not to mention, the best hunter in Veros. Because of the ice, the local villages had organized. Common folks had to relay on themselves. Victor, Thomas and Edward where not the only people out hunting. The rumours of renegades made him to pull on arms. It was freezing. Though it served its purpose. The friends beheld each other. Thomas supported himself against the spear. The wind was blowing through his hair. He pulled the blonde strings away. Thomas toutched the shotgun. Legends told it had been made by Coller the highlander. His grey eyes kept track of the surroundings. His friends also got arm. Edward, his face framed by his shoulder-length brown hair, toutched the grip on his great Bowie knife. The dull overcoat almost made him to blend with the landscape. A rifle hung over his shoulder. Victor was alert. The night-cap hat was pulled back over his dark blonde hair. He didn’t look funny. The dark eyes returned his gaze. The hunter produced his huge battle-axe. Thomas knew he kept daggers concealed within his tunic. He shrugged. Their ammunition was made of silver. Thomas had no mind. He would’ve used a bow-and-arrow if that would provide for his town. Edward thugged his beard. The moustache was shining with frost. Thomas knew what he was thinking. It was the same which they all thought. What should they do? Finally Edward spoke. “They are to big to be normal wolves.” He didn’t mention the other footprints. Thomas felt a shudder. Though he didn’t let it show. That hadn’t been the cold. Night had settled upon the countryside. “The tracks are leading to Carmilla cemetery.” Victor remarked. He looked like he didn’t want to ask. But someone had to. “Well? What shall we do?” He was a skilled tracker. But this was making him nervous. Thomas felt no better. But they couldn’t just ignore. This could be a threat to all the people. It was their responsibility to keep them safe. “Let’s hunt the night.” Morris then said while reloading his pistol. Thomas noticed he wasn’t shaking. Edward inherited the cool bravery of his ancestors. The firearm was made around 1830. Thomas wondered if it might be the one which Nathan Graves used while hunting Dracula. Victor changed grip on his weapon. “Follow me.” He then said. Thomas did. He had no fear. Now they had decided.

Carmilla cemetery, Warakiya. The 1st. of December 2098 A.D.

Victor suddenly stopped. “Get down.” He hissed. Thomas wasted no time. The track really went to the graveyard. The sound of female voices reached even this far. They sounded cruel and heartless. Although Thomas didn’t get the words. The scent of rotting flesh was disgustive. He knew that most people wouldn’t have realized. Edward’s face was pale. Thomas wondered if he might understand. Either way, he couldn’t stand it. “Look.” He pointed. Thomas saw it also. The pack of wargs where among the tombs. Thomas was grateful the wind didn’t blow from their direction. That might conceal their progress. Edward made the sign of the cross. Thomas beheld them closely. The riders where clad in full suits of armour. “They’re armed.” He informed. “I know.” Victor said. Thomas moved his spear into a ready position. “Dracul.” Morris muttered. Thomas suddenly felt uneasy. The banner upon their shield was that of the crimson dragon. Then the leader got his attention. “Good Lord in Heaven.” Thomas exclaim. That was no man. Although clad in armour, his head was a naked skull. The skeleton knight crushed his last illusions. This was like when his father died. Thomas tightened his grip. He would impale the bastard. Then he saw who was performing the ritual. Thomas blushed. Two women, boyar, by their dress and manner, where kneeling in the moonlight. In his heart, he felt a sudden greedy desire to be kissed by those ruby lips. At the same time, he felt a deadly fear. The brunette was young. She couldn’t be more then 19 years old. Her large brown eyes sent chills through his blood. “She’s lesbian.” Victor muttered. Thomas shook his head. Grant was a homosexual. He should know such things. Thomas didn’t care what so ever. Edward, who was a Victorian in such matters, slapped him. He wasn’t interested. The second woman was a diva. She got to be at least 30 years old. No teenager had such a luxurious voluptuous aura around her. Thomas didn’t like to admit it. But she was just so desirable. The long red hair went flowing down her shoulders. Though her eyes where grey and cold as Victor’s axe. “The dead ride fast.” Edward whispered. He made the sign of the cross. Thomas already realized. The scent was obvious. The bat features settled the matter. Thomas would tear them to shreds. “Vampire.” He snarled. “You’re right man.” Victor looked shaken. “I thought they where just legends.” Thomas howled. He could’ve told him about their actuality. This was more then a threat to the countryside. This was personal. Thomas knew who they where. His father Jacob had often described them. Thomas thought of his bloodline. Then he thought of their weaponry. Thomas smiled. “Follow me.” He said. The enemies had noticed. Silver might be useful this time. “Stronger we are in the name of the Lord!” Edward shouted. Thomas howled his challenge. The trio advanced. The riders went for their steed. But it was to late. Thomas and Morris shot them full with bullets. “Shields up!” The skeleton shouted. How was that possible? He got no tongue. “Yes, Von Harrhausen!” “Damn it!” Thomas cursed. Their shields might be a problem. “My warg shall feed on you!” His voice didn’t sound real somehow. “”I shall tear you limb from limb!” Thomas was to busy. Edward reloaded his pistol. Thomas kept shooting. Although made in 1897, the rifle got a nice aim. Morris had been right about that. The bullets made them collapse. Then the riders began to rise. “They have no blood!” Victor’s shout made his head spin. The hunter cut a deep gash into his enemy. As if to demonstrate. Victor was right! The riders didn’t bleed at all. Not even a drop. “What’s inside the armour?” Morris asked. Thomas blinked. This was madness. Then he noticed. One of the riders had lost his helmet. There was nothing inside. Nothing which he could see. Still, they walked and talked like living beings. Then he ran out of ammunition. After that, things really got difficult.

The Vatican, Italy. The 19th. of November 2098 A.D.

Christian Belmont knelt before the old man’s chair. “Holy father, I have sinned.” The boy looked very young. “In my dreams, I have seen unworthy and unholy visions.” Someone put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, little bro.” Julius Belmont wasn’t Trevor’s brother. But he treated his cousin like if they’d been real siblings. John Kishine, which was his real name, bowed respectfully before the pope. “Sorry, Mathew, your eminence. But he insisted on telling you this.” Christian lowered his head. “His dreams make him worry about the future.” Christian tried to relax. He believed the holy man might help. Trevor’s red hair went naturally around his face. His grey eyes usually returned the gaze of their protector. But not tonight. “I am sorry if I disturbed you, father. But these dreams keep coming back to me. They scare me.” Julius shook his head, making his blonde hair to wave about. The skull wasn’t shaved. His bright blue eyes adapted a concerned look. “Tell me about them.” Mathew kindly requested. Christian inhaled. Then he began talking. He was cut short. “Is this really necessary?” Julius asked. “Haven’t you pressed him hard enough as it is?” The old man seemed to shine with conviction. “It is.” He said. “More then you think.” The gaze grew even more serious. “You know what is at stake.” He seemed to consider. Then he asked. “And what do you dream about?” For a moment, Julius looked perplexed. Then he shrugged. “If that can make you happy.” Julius was a priest. But he never tried to please his superiors. “I dream of a golden girl.” He said. “She have eyes like pale sapphire.” His cheeks turned red. Christian knew he really wasn’t all that careless. “She is clad in ancient finery. She always try to kiss me.” Julius shuddered. He tried not to show it as he picked on his cloak. “Sometime I dream of a horseman, who is wielding a scythe. I never see his face. The hood is pulled down.” Christian watched how Julius put his hands upon the crucifix. “He is clad in ash grey. He is laughing. Laughing at me. Watching me.” The people also watched him. John hung his head. “All is dark.” Trevor explained. He wouldn’t let his cousin take the blame. “The visions always return to me.” He shuddered. “They never change.” The room suddenly felt very cold. The simple white cloak didn’t protect him. “First, all is dark.” He repeated. “Then I see a boy and a girl. They are together in a dark room.” He nervously licked his lips. Trevor didn’t like to say this. “I think it’s a tomb.” He closed his eyes. “They are young, like me.” This was what scared him the most. “They do what only adults can do.” He folded his hands and held them tightly. “the Japanese is trying to resist.” He opened his eyes again. “Then the blue haired boy stare on her with burning eyes. He treat her like the undead do with their victim. Then she cannot resist anymore.” He didn’t realize that tears stained his face. “Darkness become manifest. The castle… The castle is a creature of Chaos.” Christian was actually shaking. “I hear him laugh at me. Then I wake up.” Julius knelt to his level, putting his arms around him. Christian didn’t hide his tears. For a moment, Julius felt like his real brother. “This is vital.” Mathew said. “How long have you had these dreams?” Christian released himself of the embrace. He was 12 years old. That didn’t make him a baby. Julius still picked on his crucifix. “I can’t remember.” He said. Mathew looked on him. “I’m sorry.” The holy man seemed disappointed. “It isn’t his fault.” Trevor stated. “It was I who did it.” Mathew got up from his seat. The old man put a hand on his shoulder. John told that his great old grandfather used to do that. He had been the real Julius Belmont. “It is no one’s fault.” Mathew explained. “Only the Devil is to blame.” Christian relaxed. He could answer his question. “I first got this dream some six weeks ago. The old man sat back down. “So it is clear then.” His eyes where deep in thought. Then he shook it off. “This I can at least do for you.” He put his hand upon Christian’s brow. Trevor was still on his knees. “By the decree of Jesus Christ, our Lord, I mercifully forgive you of your sins.” He made the sign of the cross. “Rise. Go in peace.” Christian got up. He didn’t expect to be forgiven. But he felt much better. Julius toutched his shoulder. “I thank you father.” He told the pope. Mathew smiled. Then his expression changed. The pope was serious when speaking. “The time has come.” The words where determined. “Go, both of you.” He said. “Prepare yourself for war.” Christian knew what that ment. He bent to kiss his hand. They had known this day would come. The dreams had summoned him. Man never could compete with the work of God. They shouldn’t even try. Soma Cruz was dead. No one was left to take his place. Chaos was filling the seal up. “Be His will.” Christian made the sign of the cross. “May it indeed.” The pope looked on mournfully as he went for the door. Julius was at his side. This was destiny. A soft knock came from outside. “Excuse me, father.” It was Paul. “But this girl claims to be of that woman’s linage.” He looked unsure. “Somehow she has managed to gain an appointment.” Mathew nodded. “Let her in.” He said. “And see to that the guards are on duty.” The secretary nodded. Then he stepped aside. Christian got into a defensive posture. The seal was no longer safe. Any number of his followers might be released. Julius moved away from the door. He made the sign of the cross. They where not ready to fight. He got no weapons. But Trevor knew they would use their power if so be it. When Paul returned, he was not alone. He was followed by a dark blonde girl. Christian felt surprised. She was at his age. The girl was clad in a poncho. Under which she wore a plain American school girl uniform. She bowed before the pope. “I am Torah Fernandez.” She introduced herself. “And although I’m not a Catholic, I have come to you.” She didn’t kiss his hand. Then the girl noticed about them. The discovery made her beam. The smile seemed to illuminate her features. “Trevor.” She exclaimed in a happy voice. “You really have grown.” The statement made him laugh. Torah really was a Fernandez. John had been mailing with her grandmother. He once sent her a photo of him. Torah shook her head. Her face beamed no more. “I have to tell you that Yoko Belnades, my grandmother, has died.” Christian wished there was something he could do. He felt sorry for her. Although he never had a family. “That’s sad news.” John said. Mathew agreed. “I knew her when I was a young man.” He said. “I mourn her as a personal friend.” Torah looked down upon the carpet. “It isn’t like that.” She stated. “She was murdered. Vampires killed her. It was Orlock and Shaft.” Trevor felt so weary. Then it was true. Not that he’d doubted. “It is happening again.” The pope sounded just as Christian felt. Then he straightened up. “In the name of St. Peter, St. John and by Michael the arch angel, may the Lord preserve us all. Amen.” He made the sign of the cross. Christian had a deep breath. “I’ll do battle.” He said. “I’ll come back.” John made no statement. He simply followed him out. This was what they had train for. Trevor was only a boy. But he had decided not to stay back. He would accept the challenge. “May He preserve us.” Julius then said. Christian made no answer. He knew what he feard. He did as well. For if the dreams where really visions of the future, then they might already be to late. Christian couldn’t believe it. Either way, they got nothing to loose. He had trained for this all his life. Now it was time to prove he was ready. Christian knew that nothing might prepare him for what was ahead. But it was his family’s plight. Trevor had accepted that when he was only 3 years old. When his family was murdered. It was like Leon Belmont had said. Christian would hunt the night.

Torah had managed to pick together. She’d feard for this meeting. The pope smiled. He actually looked rather nice. Though she saw the strength beneath. Yoko had been right about him. It felt so long since they spoke of her undertaking. “Now, when you have seen them. What do you think of them?” He suddenly asked. Torah thought about it. “There is something.” She said. “Something about that boy.” She never met him before. Torah only knew his face from the internet. And back when that actually worked, She’d been only 6 years old. The pope nodded. “He really is special.” Torah agreed. “I’m sure he might become the vampire hunter of his generation.” His face became expressionless. “That is to be seen.” The pope got up from his seat. “There is still one more test.” Torah watched him speak with the assistant. She wondered what they might be up to. Either way, Torah hoped Christian would do his best. “Be strong.” She whispered. “Do not doubt yourself.” Yoko had said the same to Soma in 2035. Torah hoped Christian would pull through as well.

Carmilla cemetery, Warakiya. The 1st. of December 2098 A.D.

Victor swung his axe. “Take that, you rusty bucket!” He was able to strike down the armour. He watched with grim satisfaction when it collapsed. “Watch out!” He jumped aside. Von Harrhausen still tried to pine him. “Thanks pall! I owe you one!” Edward made the sign of the cross. Then he stabbed the Bowie knife. He dug it into the warg’s head. That was the man-beast’s idea. He got it from some old fairy tale. Victor didn’t care much about it. Not as long it worked. That was beside the point. He was at war. Victor smiled. It was only a grimace. He swung his axe around. The warg-riders had formed a protective circle. The dames where still involved in their weird ritual. Just then, eerie blue dust emerged like a pillar from the grave. “Jesus!” Victor almost dropped his guard. The diva was able to fetch the price. She put it into some sort of container. “Perfect.” The diva smiled. Her eyes burning with dark triumph. The undead was cold like winter’s heart. “Then, mine dearest countess Elizabeth, I suggest we leave the peasants to thyself.” The diva held up her hand. Then she let it drop. “Countess Carmilla!” Von Harrhausen shouted. “Gather thou self!” Victor blinked. Who was the leader? “ We got what we came for. His ashes arth to important.” Carmilla offered a slight nod. “Thou arth right, Rowdain. Let us leave.” Countess Elizabeth smiled, exposing her fangs. “Mircalla, Millarca, or whatever thee call thy self. Est ist time.” Carmilla’s eyes where hard as flint. “We must reach the meeting at his castle.” Victor gasped. The trio had vanished like snowflakes in the wind. “Cowards.” He muttered. He changed grip on his weapon. They still had a battle to win. Or to survive. The riders still put up a good fight. But as he and Edward had been busy, Thomas had been able to reload their weapons. He wasted no time and had began to fire already. Edward also began to fire. Victor couldn’t remember when he last felt so tired. He tried to shake it off. Victor went to fetch his knives. He even picked up his hat. “Holy mother of God!” Edward sounded like he’d gotten the living daylight kicked out of him. “come over here!” He shouted. “Look here!” The last of the warg-riders had been defeated. Edward had gone to inspect the headstone. That was the one which the vampires had worshiped. The text upon it told him nothing. But his friends looked like they’d seen a ghost. Or perhaps, something even worse. There was only a single name carved into the stone. “Malus.” Victor frowned. “He only became eight years old.” He remarked. Edward didn’t seem to listen. “We must reach that meeting.” He said. Thomas just nodded. “Hay! What’s this all about, folks?!” They told him about it. Victor began to shiver. He just couldn’t help it. Victor hadn’t believed his grandfather when telling him this. Then he had no choice. “I’ll go with you.” His grandfather had just died. Victor would never get the chance to tell him he was sorry. They looked at him. “You don’t need to come along.” Thomas said. “Not if you don’t want to.” Victor shook his head. “It isn’t that I want to do this.” He confessed. “We all heard the legends. The Dinesti clan is involved. Thomas grasped his hand. “Then we shall relive the adventure of Trevor Belmont.” He exclaimed. Edward shrugged. “We have no sorceress.” He remarked. “Beside, this is no holiday.” Thomas sighed. “I know that.” He said. “I only tried to encourage you.” Then he gleefully added. “You know I’m distantly connected with the Belnades. So I’ll have to do.” Edward pulled off his hat. “You don’t have to.” Another voice remarked. Victor spun around. He already got a knife ready. Someone was approaching. Victor kept his weapons handy. The group consisted of a man and two children. The man almost looked like a teen himself. It was the girl who had spoken. “Hello, cousin.” She called at Thomas. “I am Torah Fernandez.” They stopped. Torah kept talking. “This is Julius Belmont.” She said, pointing at the grownup. “And don’t be deceived. He’s more then a pretty face.” “And who’s that?” Thomas asked. He was clearly annoyed by her smalltalk. “I am Christian Belmont.” The boy said in a low voice. Julius didn’t seem to like her either. Edward didn’t seem to bother. “Then hello, little cousin. Long time, no see. And all that.” The words made the boy to smile. “Then we are together again.” “Indeed we are.” Victor couldn’t be sure. But it was like Julius was jealous about the boy. Edward didn’t seem to notice. He was still tipping his hat about. “I have something for you.” The blonde man opened his bag. He produced a second long blade. The belt and scabbard went along. “To you Edward.” He sounded rather dryly. “It’s a Morris family heirloom.” Christian explained. “The pope asked me if I might give it to you. It is Hugh Baldwin’s sword.” Victor scratched himself in the head. Though his friend was beaming. Thomas also beheld the blade with awe. Victor decided it was time to go get serious. “We have to get to the mountains.” His words shattered their little reunite family party. “I think we better… “ Christian and Thomas almost spoke in unison. They then locked gazes. Victor was unsure what to make of it. Thomas always had been the leader. But as he beheld the young face, he saw something there which he didn’t expect. Christian believed. Victor was certain about it. The boy’s faith was extraordinary. It was such a contrast to Lecarde’s usual go-get them attitude. “He is our leader.” Victor quietly admitted. The others also seemed to agree. Edward ended the deadlock. “Look.” He simply stated. Victor stared at his aim. Upon Christian’s belt, there hung something. “He really is the leader.” Thomas finally agreed. Then, together, they left the cemetery behind.

The Vatican, Italy. The 19th. of November 2098 A.D.

When Julius and Trevor returned, Torah had finished her work. She and Mathew had collected the Belmont’s mystic arsenal. They had changed clothing. Julius had on the army clothing. The light got reflected by the metal chest plate. He looked more innocent then ever. The hair band kept the blonde hair away from his face. Could that be the same which Richter Belmont used in 1792? Julius boasted plenty of weapons too. He got those grenades which Jonathan Morris used in 1944. The Stellar sword hung over his shoulder. That was his weapon. “I know that blade.” Torah said. “Lydie Erlanger, who married Maxim Kishine in 1748, described it in my chronicle book.” Julius smiled. “Although we are like brothers, we aren’t blood siblings.” He put a hand on the sword. “Not that it matter anyway.” He let it fall back down. “I belong to the Schneider and Morris fractions.” Christian said. “John is a Kishine product.” Torah almost giggled. Then she got serious. “Why don’t you use the Graves name?” She asked. “In my archive, the Kishine family changed their surname sometime around 1810.” Julius expression changed. “It’s nothing I like to think of.” He said. “But one with that name betrayed us. In 1982, Clifford Graves helped the Dark Lord during another of his early risings.” Torah didn’t know what to say. There always was some who lost hope. “Even the most enlightened beings might find it difficult to resist the temptation of his power.” Christian said. Torah turned to look upon him. Trevor also had changed cloathings. He wore a plain green tunic, with a brown jacket underneath. The shell armour shone like silver. A crucifix hung from around his neck. He really looked like his kinsmen. “Come here.” The pope said. “There is something I wish to show you.” Torah looked upon the items which lay on the table. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing much for you here.” Mathew explained. “I want you to have this cross.” He held it up. “It once belonged to Maria Renard.” The silver shone bright in his hand. “How it came here, I do not know. Old Richter never told the church much. But he said it was the gift of a friend.” Torah hung it around her neck. The destiny of Maria Renard, and the identity of her lover, was one of her family’s best kept secrets. Richter Belmont, the only person who knew, never told about it. “The laurels where left to your family by Julius Belmont himself.” Torah blushed. She felt so grateful. Julius hadn’t forgotten about them. Yoko always spoke kindly of him. “Take them.” Mathew said. “When someone close to your heart, has been wounded in battle, you might use them to heal him. Though they need strong faith.” Torah put them into her breast pocket. She promised herself she would take good care of them. “Then, there is this. The last heirloom I got for you. But it is the most powerful of all.” He held her gaze. “This is the stopwatch.” He handed it to her. The pocket-watch didn’t look much. But Torah knew otherwise. “This powerful piece of craftsmanship is the one thing we know belonged to Sonia Belmont.” Mathew told. “Some say she found it during her exploits in 1476.” He smiled. Though he looked concerned. “It has the power to stop time.” Torah nodded. She felt pale when thinking of the possibilities. “For you, my son John, who had become a disciple. Be a Sheppard for your cousins. And take this axe with you.” Julius made the sign of the cross. He sent a quick glance at his brother. “If He will.” He said. “I shall be good.” Torah could feel its potential. “This I give to you, my child. Take the vials of holy water.” Trevor put them upon his belt. “Refill them with water, and speak a prayer. Then they will be filled.” Christian crossed himself. “John, I wish you to take the crossbow.” Mathew continued. “It belonged to Rachel Van Helsing. The arrows are made of silver. It will be of good help when hunting the night.” Julius smiled. “Thanks.” He hung the crossbow over his left shoulder. Torah shook her head. She hadn’t thought there would be enough space left. Not with all those grenades. “I see you have found Richter’s crucifix.” The pope said. Torah had a closer look. Although she knew it was the Belmont’s legendary sub-weapon, it was so simple. “I think you should take this as well. He smiled when handing him the throwing cross. Christian kissed his hand. Then he put it into his purse. “There is only two items left.” The old man held one in each hand. “I give you this knife.” Mathew said. Julius looked slightly doubtful. Torah wondered why. “Keep it hidden.” Mathew advised. “Let no one know you have it.” Julius still looked unsure. But then he put it into his boot. The pope turned to Christian. “This crystal have not been used since John Morris and Eric Lecarde fought the prince of Darkness in 1917. The relic was crafted into a weapon by Leon Belmont.” He bent over and put it into the boy’s palm. “We have faith in you.” Mathew spoke in a low voice. “May it be a memory, of your bloodline’s bravery. You will know when to use it.” Trevor nodded. Torah beheld the crystal with great curiosity. The mystic item seemed to hum with power. Christian looked shaken. He quickly put it away. “Then there is the final test.” With great seriousness, Mathew pulled out an ancient leather whip. This time, Torah really gasped. “This is the Vampire Killer.” Mathew said. “Both your kinsmen, Edward Morris and Desmond Graves, have come to claim it.” The pope shook his head. “Neither of them where accepted. Even Alicia Schneider made an attempt. “ The pope looked sad. “I have not presented it to you before.” John went forward. “I had hope that a secret Belmont would come.” Torah wondered what that was about. “I want you to take it.” Julius eagerly grasped for the whip. They beheld him while he put his hands upon it. Julius held it up. Then he made an effort to crack it. The whip just kept its recoiled status. No matter what he did, Julius failed to strike it. “This is useless.” He finally said. “The power is lost.” Torah felt disappointed. She had expected so much more. Julius gave the whip away. Torah saw the grief on his face. “Be the will of the Lord.” Mathew said. He closed his eyes. Mathew looked so old and weary. The pope inhaled. He opened his eyes. Then he presented the whip to Christian. He was the youngest. Torah had a strange sensation. If the Vampire Killer had refused all other members of the family, then it must be his destiny to become the next vampire hunter in line. Christian licked his lips. He slowly reached out his hand. The pope let him take the millennia old weapon. Then Torah screamed. They where bleeding. She could see it. Torah got blinded by the flash of silver light. Then Trevor spoke. His voice strong with conviction. “I am Christian Schneider Morris, heir to the house of Belmont. I am Trevor Belmont, wielder of the Vampire Killer. I will keep the promise. I will vanquish Dracula.” His voice went softer. “No one deserves your fate. The Belmont clan still hunt the night.” The blood pact had not been broken. Torah red it in her chronicle. He was accepted. Christian and the Vampire Killer had made a connection. “I bless you, vampire hunter. May the Lord keep you and be with you now and forever. Until the end of days.” The pope gave the blessing. Julius Belmont had been the first ever to be blessed by the Catholic church. Not that the whip had chosen anyone since his time. Though the church kept its traditions. This was an event which occurred only once in a century. Yoko had told her about it. But to see it happen, was entirely different. Then Christian cracked his whip. The weapon struck the candles. “You are ready.” Mathew stated. “Another chapter in the war against the evil count has begun.” Torah closed her mouth. She knelt to pick up the gem. It came from within the candle. Torah knew the Vampire Killer whip had been used to vanquish Dracula all since the midst of the 15th. Century. Christian was the first child Belmont to ever wield it. She was afraid. The vampire was so very powerful. She bit together. Torah wouldn’t let fear get the best of her. She knew that was dangerous. Yoko had said so many times. Torah had made up her mind. “We shall do it together.” Trevor said. Torah hadn’t heard him come. She returned his gaze. His faith was strong. Torah smiled. She felt hope. “We will.” She said. “Together, we can do everything.” Torah toutched his hand. Whatever it may cost, she would keep her promise.

Borgo pass, Walachia. The 30th. of November 2098 A.D.

Alicia Schneider stopped. She pointed the searchlight to the side of the road. “Warakiya. 4 Miles.” She threw the golden hair out of her blue eyes. That almost made her to loose the glasses. Alicia pressed them hard against her nose. She checked her watch. “23.51 a.m.” Alicia rubbed her eyes. She’d been out since sunrise. Alicia only had slept three hours during the previous night. Today would be no difference. Most people which inhabited the province, had left for the ocean. They where fleeing south. Then they might get away from the winter. Alicia shuddered. Not even the fur-coated leather jacket might keep her warm. The army boots and trousers wasn’t that much better. Alicia had been bent on getting to Warakiya when she packed. Rumours had been abroad. Those who came to the inn, whispered about the dark wanderers. Alicia got another shudder. Hooded and cloaked, they wandered hither and dither, always searching for the Belmont clan. The Morris family had been wiped out. The survivors went scattering everywhere. Alicia’s family had managed to escape. She wouldn’t go with them. Alicia had gone to search for her relatives. Or for people related to the helping clans. So far, she had found nothing. The lapse in concentration almost made her to collide. She was no real biker. Alicia had taken her items along. The bike she borrowed from her uncle. Although she was 19 years old, she still had no licence of her own. Alicia had been lucky when crossing the border. The only man on duty, had been a friend of her grandfather. He was a Hammer. He could only tell his sons left some decade before. She tried to shake her tiredness. Only some more hours, and she would reach Berestov. There she might rent a room. The black cat was suddenly there. Alicia was able to stop. “Get away from there!” She shouted. “And stop playing games!” Alicia could see beyond the obvious. The figure had changed. Although the moon was shining, the woman cast no shadow. She was beautiful. Raven hair fell down her shoulders. Her eyes seemed to shine red when contrasted against the pale moonlight. For a moment, she actually felt jealous. The ruby lips got pulled back. Alicia watched her fangs exposed. “So ist est true.” Her accent was ancient. “Though I so had expected thy cousin.” “Lenore.” Alicia hissed. “The bride of Brahenmark.” She had met her before. Lenore had been the first who came. Then her cousin saved them. Heinrich was a good man. He’d wanted to come with her. She couldn’t risc his life. Alicia brushed her memories aside. She lept from the bike. With one swift motion, she leached with the chain-whip. Lenore was forced backward. This wasn’t the Vampire Killer. But the Undead Killer had its own power. It had been crafted for Soleiyu Belmont in 1591. Since then, it had been handed down through the family. Richter had given it to his cousin as a wedding present. Alicia would use it to defend herself. She was ready. “Behave thyself. She ist a Belmont. Stay back if thou wishes to live.” Another vampire had arrived. He was a man. His cape was blowing in the wind. His velvet suit had the colour of blood. Alicia could see his short-cut white hair. He returned the gaze with a black stare. “Gilles De Reis.” She whispered. “Now I understand. Darkness never dies.” The undead old man actually bowed. The white beard and moustache couldn’t hide the fangs. “You perished in 1844. His eyes became red with flame. “The Dark Lord may never truly be defeated.” Alicia made the sign of the cross. She changed grip on the Undead Killer. The chain-whip was made of silvered metal, with a morning-star at the end. She produced a vial of holy water. She kept them on her belt. Alicia decided not to use the grenades. Jonathan Morris told her family how to make them. “Do thou think to destroy us?” Lenore scolded. “We arth immortal. Thou can never win.” Lenore lifted into the air. “This ist nay a wise decision.” Gilles spread his cape. The balls of Hellfire might’ve killed her. Alicia threw the bottle. She almost lost the glasses. Alicia managed to retain her defensive posture. The undead attacked. With a beating heart, she produced another vial. Alicia struck with her whip. The female vampire screamed. Alicia threw the vial. Gilles withdrew. He then made lightning strike. Alicia threw herself sideways. She dodged the bolt. Alicia then made them retreat with a swiftly drawn and thrown dagger. She hoped her father would be proud. He was the vampire hunting master of his generation. Alicia once had a training match with Christian Belmont. She’d been in the Vatican to might receive the Vampire Killer. Although he’d been only 10 years old, he’d held his ground. Alicia knew she thought to much. She managed to retrive her dagger. Alicia dodged another bolt of lightning. Lenore released with a swarm of bats. Alicia doused them with holy water. “Nay bad.” Gilles afforded another cordial bow. Alicia made a back-flip. His fist burned with power. Alicia presented her crucifix. They withdrew. She wouldn’t fail this time. “I look forward to meet thee at his castle.” The veteran knight decleared. “Farewell. And do nay perish to soon.” Alicia screamed. With his bare hands, Gilles actually hurled the huge rock toward her. She threw herself upon the ground. When she got up, the undead had disappeared. Alicia didn’t understand. What had this been about? Then she realized. “It’s a trap.” Either way, Alicia knew she would have to go there. Then, she might solve the puzzle surrounding Dracula’s curse. Alicia retrived her items. She got back upon the bike. She still had a long way to go. Alicia was tired. Though she pulled together. Alicia started the engine.

Ruins of castle Dracula, Warakiya. The 4th. of December 2098 A.D.

Death emerged. “The Dark Lord called upon thee.” The spirit of the Dark Lord had awaken. the fair vampire with pale sapphire eyes opened the Necromonicon. Count Dracula would be reborn. Carmilla led the ritual. The estate vampire was not the only one toutched. The eyes of the disciple was on fire. The enchantress was beaming. The artist was calm. She lay on the alter. The dust from his grave was a great opportunity. “Est ist time.” Death said. She screamed. Her suffering was powerful. The boy buried his fangs into her neck. The rite reached climax. Her blood stained the earth. He tore her cloack. He pined her against the coffin. Their misery made Chaos flow. Death raised his scythe. He was ready for the kill. The vampire hunters arrived. The boom from the knight’s pistol made the boy collapse. His blood stained the ground. The girl released the sacrifice. “ Thee thought to defeat the prince of Darkness!?” Death proclaimed. “Darkness never dies!” The rite commenced. Dracula’s magic made the group to splinter. Death was the guardian of his kindred spirit. He would make a full resurrection. Count Vlad Tepes Dracula would live again to cover the world in darkness.

Castlevania, Warakiya. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

Christian watched on helplessly when his family disappeared. Mathew’s words seemed to echo through his mind. “ Do never underestimate the powers of the Dark Lord. If you do, that will be your undoing.” The girl which they’d saved clung to him. Pain seemed to shatter his universe. He actually blacked out for a moment. This was the end. Trevor could hear his laugher. The Dark Lord was here. Christian just knew it. He fought to reach the Vampire Killer whip. But he could do nothing.

Forest of Jova, Warakiya. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

They stood at a clearing in the forest. There was no sight of the castle. That was a problem. Christian smiled. It only became a grimace. He may have been thrown out of the castle. But that didn’t mean he’d lost. He wasn’t dead yet. Trevor would fight his way back to that black tomb. He would accept the cost. Christian was the vampire hunter. First though, he had to see to that the girl was safe. She didn’t look good. She might be cursed. Trevor would do what he had to do. “St. Peter and St. John.” He prayed. “Please preserve my friends and family from danger.” Christian knew they had the power to fight the demons. But it gave no comfort. He hoped the Lord would make them meet again. Even though it where beyond the limits of this world. “By Michael the arch angel, and in the name of Mary, the Lord’s holy mother, grant me the moment to slay Dracula.” He exhaled. “If not for my own sake, then for the people which hold me dear. Amen.” Trevor ended the prayer with the sign of the cross. He looked up into the heavens. “May He bless us.” He said. “May He bless us, everyone.”

Castlevania, Warakiya. The 4th. of December 2098 A.D.

Julius was afraid. He was more terrified then ever before. He kept shouting for his cousin. “Christian! Christian! Can you hear me!” There was no answer. “Take it easy.” Thomas tried to comfort. Julius threw it aside. He’d known this would be a desperate race against time. But they had no choice. Christian had to reach the sight of the resurrection. Julius swore to himself. He would find his brother, or die in the attempt. Then pain bloated out everything. Julius couldn’t hold on. He was sent down into darkness.

Forest of Debias, Warakiya. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

The weather was bad. Julius looked up into the sky. He couldn’t see the castle. The mountains blocked his view. Thomas beheld him. He didn’t speak a word. He didn’t have to. Thomas worried about him. Julius crossed himself. Although he regained composure, his plight was clear. Julius had decided to find his brother. His decision was firm. Julius wouldn’t fail. Not when he got Thomas with him. Trevor would need their help. The wind blew through the Elm trees. Julius wished he got a cape. So be it. He would have to do without one.

Castlevania, Warakiya. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

Victor cursed it all. “Sorry girl.” He then said. Torah shook her head. “You don’t have to.” She said. His words was really nothing to her. It wasn’t important anyway. Torah had known something terrible would happen. Christian had told her about his dreams. They had all come true. She had seen it. The boy and the girl had been there. All had been just as he predicted. The sight had shocked her very soul. Torah closed her eyes. She couldn’t bare it any longer. The pain was to great. She had seen them too. Torah would do something.

Sadam forest, Warakiya. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

They got lost in the forest. Torah didn’t know this place. The castle was nowhere to be seen. Torah summoned her power. She knew the legends. Evil thrived in the shadow of castle Dracula. That was no bedtime story. Torah had no doubt. The forest was haunted. She could feel it. Torah was ready for battle. She produced the ring smash. The air was freezing. Torah wouldn’t die of cold. Victor was ready. Torah thought she heard something. They got to be careful. This wasn’t training. Torah really was in Transylvania.

Castlevania, Warakiya. The 4th. of December 2098 A.D.

Edward managed to remain calm. Though it wasn’t easy. “Here goes nothing.” He muttered. This time, he really was alone. Edward knew he got to find his friends. Not everything was as it should be. The tension was to great. They had to solve it out before the battle with Dracula. He tightened the grip on his sword. It’d been nice of his cousins to take it along. He couldn’t think of that now. Darkness shrouded everything. He got to find them. He got to find them before something happened. Pain bloated everything from his head.

Underground reservoir, Ravenberg. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

Edward looked about the area. He was within some sort of corridor. That much was obvious. That was one of the few. Edward thugged his beard. He didn’t knew much about this place. Edward shrugged. He wouldn’t learn anything by just standing here. He could just as well get going. The light wasn’t all that good. He made the sign of the cross. Then Edward unsheathed his blade. He began walking. The dank air wasn’t encouraging. The bats made him dismiss about the matter. They came flying down.

Sadam forest, Warakiya. The 4th. Of December 2098 A.D.

Alicia finished cleaning her glasses. She stood looking out over the cliff. Alicia hardly believed what she saw. But the castle was there. She could make it out against the mountains. Although it was far away. Alicia inhaled. She made the sign of the cross. She never expected this to be easy. Two of the black riders had tried to take her. Alicia barely managed to escape. They where still out there. Alicia knew that. Knowledge didn’t make it less terrifying. She slightly shuddered. Alicia put the glasses back on. There where other monsters abroad. She’d met some already. She’d learned that the demon castle made them to gather. Alicia put a hand upon the Undead Killer whip. Let them come. She was a vampire hunter. She could defend herself. Alicia began to walk down the forest road. She should reach the castle. She left the bike behind. Alicia had no more use for it. Although she hoped to return one day. It cost her uncle much money. Alicia hoped the Lord would preserve them both. It was a clear night. Alicia knew they could control the weather. She didn’t have much time.

Castlevania, Warakiya. The 4th. of December 2098 A.D.

Carmilla entered the room. “Death.” She said. “I must tell thou.” The angel made no remark. The countess shook her mane of dark hair. Her brown eyes where burning. “They have left.” She said. “Thy will do as thee have told.” The angel of Death closed the Necromonicon. “Est has begun then. ”The grim reaper said. “The play has been set in motion.” Uriel seemed to gaze ahead of her. Carmilla wished she figured his plotting. “ Thy must be removed.” Death looked down into his lap. “Thee will realize. And execute his last command.” Carmilla played with her symbol. In the meanwhile, Death would lead his army and prepare for the return of count Dracula. She looked back. Was it safe to speak so openly? The royal knights where on duty. The red foxes stared blankly at the far wall. Death sent them away before the ritual. She dismissed the matter. The grim reaper seemed to listen for distant voices. “Thou shall know.” Carmilla lowered her head. Then she moaned with ecstasy. “Good evening.” Caped arms embraced her from behind. “Welcome to castle Dracula.” Carmilla was turned around. “Lord Dracula!” She exclaimed. “I am honoured to be in thy presence.”

(A.N: I wish to thank all the attributer to the Castlevania section of FanFiction net. I also wish to thank the attributors to the Castlevania dungeon page. Their work have made this text possible. I hope you enjoyed reading. Have a nice time.)