Fan Fiction

"Oh, the joy it would have brought us all to see that bedevilling Simon Belmont pay dearly for vanquishing our master in perhaps his most magnificentally infamous campaign. It wasn't enough that this didn't happen--oh, no, sir; ol' Simon just had to gather up the Master's remains and rub some more salt in the wound. Still, I often wonder what would have happened had Simon not completed the dire task and instead fell victim to the curse, as one of Simon's Quest's endings hints upon but fails to explore. Instead, one of our most noted authors, Sam Mills, opens that door within a manuscript that may prove noted history to be revised in favor of a happy ending that wasn't. A guy can dream, can't he?"

Simon the Vampire: Fact or Fiction?

By Sam Mills

The following manuscript was found in the pages of an old batch of letters found in the basement of an old museum in Romania. Though very old, the document was in good condition, and shocked those who discovered it. It is a work of fiction, or a real account a real tragic incident? Read for yourself...



There was something a little strange the days after Simon had defeated Dracula the first time. Though he was feeling great after his noble victory against the dark lord of the night, there was something else in his heart that left him feeling heavy.

The story goes that Simon was left a curse on his soul by Dracula. The only way to lift the curse was to find Dracula's body pieces, reconstruct him, and defeat him again. The story also dictates that he was successful. Some say he lived. Others say he dies. But only a few know the real story. And one of those few is me.

Who am I? Can you keep a secret? So can I. But if I feel the urge, I will tell you later. I'll think about it.

Anyway, this is what really happened.

Simon Belmont, in his fight against Dracula, was bit in the neck by the vampire, and just before Dracula's death, planted the seed to turn the warrior into an eternal creature of the night.

In the following few years after this, Simon was no where to be found during the day. His house stayed abandoned, and his family and friends never heard a word from him. There was no note left, and no clues as to where he could have gone. He simply disappeared.

One night about four years after he disappeared, in the countryside miles from the village, a farmer by the name of Ralph was keeping guard over his flock of sheep. There were reports of wolves and dogs running rampant over the countryside, and a few of his far neighbors had reported trouble.

So far, the night was calm and silent. As he sat on the fence post with and ax in hand, he waited patiently for anything to come his way. After a few hours in this cold, he was considering going back inside. That was when it happened.

In an instant, something flying through the air flew right over his head. Startled, Ralph took position with the axe, ready to charge anything that emerged from the shadows. After a moment, he noticed someone or something moving among his sheep. The moon was only half full, and there was not a lot of light to see, but he could detect a shadowy figure in his flock.

Ralph stepped into the field, and bravely approached the entity. As he came closer, he yelled, "You damned dogs, get out of my field!" After getting within close range, the figure stood, revealing it was not a dog, but a man, dressed in a black cloak, a hood over his head. Ralph stopped.

A little scared, the farmer stood there, waiting for the man to say something. When he did not, Ralph asked what he was doing in his field. The man pulled his hood back, revealing his piercing eyes, that seem to penetrate the farmers eyes with it's stare.

"You know me, do you not?" the stranger asked. Ralph thought a moment, then realized that he did indeed. It was Simon Belmont. Though he did not know him well, he had talked to Simon a few times on the street while visiting town.

"Yes, I do know you. Simon Belmont, where have you been?" Ralph asked, sensing something very wrong with this predicament.

"I've been working," Simon said. "I've been doing the bidding of a new master. His name is Dracula, and he's away for now.

So I have taken his place for the time being." Though his tone was pleasant, Ralph knew he was in danger now. The farmer figured out what must have happened. He'd heard about Simon's battle with the dark lord, and how easy it was. Some said it was too easy, but no one knew for sure what really occurred. Dracula must have realized his weakness, and used his last bit of strength to infect Simon with his vampirism. "Simon, what do you intend to do with me?" "Well, I was starting small, starting with the livestock, and planned on moving up to humans soon. But perhaps my first victim, you shall be!"

Simon took a step toward Ralph, who took a swing at him, but like a flash, Simon moved behind him. With a slight push, he pushed Ralph to the ground. Simon reached down and grabbed the man by the neck, holding him up above him and revealed his fangs. Simon's eyes glowed red as blood, and his expression was one of pure terror.

Ralph kicked and yelled as loud as he could, "Vampire! Vampire!" but to no avail. Though his wife was supposedly in the house, she didn't come out. Terrified, Ralph prepared for death. Simon turned the man and took a look at his neck. "Are you going to kill me, Simon? Or will I be like you after this is done?"

Simon hissed like a cat, tossing the man to the ground again. This time, Ralph's arm was broken by the impact. As he lay there in pain, he looked up to see Simon's whip hanging from his waist. Why he still kept it was a mystery. But Ralph knew what had to be done.

The farmer reached up, grabbing the whip before Simon had a chance to grab it first. Ralph rolled on the ground away from him, and got to his feet. As the vampire came towards him, Ralph stuck as hard as he could at Simons chest. On impact, Simon cried out in pain! "No!" he cried.

"This was your weapon, Simon. Now it shall become your salvation! Fight me or don't, I can't let you live on!"

On the vast countryside, a battle raged. Simon used his power in very much the manner of Dracula. In a beam of light, he blocked the farmers next attack, and appeared behind him. But Ralph turned and struck him again with a force only previously wielded by the Belmont clan. Simon tossed fire at Ralph, but Ralph jumped out of the way, and took another strike at the vampire.

"Stop! How do you do this?" Simon demanded. "Even with a broken arm, you fight me greatly!"

"I may not be a warrior, good man. But then again, you are a pretty lousy vampire!"

Fueled by rage, Simon charged at Ralph once again. Hitting the man's broken arm, he cried out in pain. Simon grabbed the man once again, and was ready to bite Ralph's neck with his fangs. Ralph dropped the whip to the ground, defenseless as to what he knew would be the end of his life.

But then, that's when I intervened! I'd been watching from the tall grass for several minutes, and when I saw Ralph in trouble, I ran behind them, grabbing the whip, and I took a strike at Simon. Dropping Ralph, the two of us huddled before him, and I was ready to take another strike.

Simon again beamed away, and as he reappeared, instead of striking again, I made a loop with the whip, put it around his head, and yanked it hard. Quickly, I made the sign of a cross on his head, and prayed, "In the name of the father, son and holy spirit, I release you!" And with a strong force, I yanked again as hard as I could, slicing off his head. Simons head fell to the ground, and we felt a rush of energy burst from his body.

Very worn, and very tired, we stood in the field, looking at the sad sight of the beheaded Simon Belmont. Ralph looked at me, and said, "Well, my, my, how'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Well, all those years putting up with you can give a whole lot of strength!" I said.

Ralph smiled at me, and said, "You did good wife. You did good..."

We decided the best thing to do was to bury the body, and not allow anyone to know what happened to him. What would people say about the Belmont family if they ever knew the truth? It would crush them, and discredit them. My husband and I decided not to let anyone know, and it was assumed that Simon must have followed his heart, and blew like a feather in the chilly European air.

Ok, now I know what you're thinking: I'm making this up. You're probably asking how can I destroy the image and legacy of the great Simon Belmont, right? Is this really the true story, or am I just out to spread rumor on a poor defenseless hero, resting in a long deserved peace? Well, as long as the story of the Three Little Pigs is told by the pigs and not the wolf, I guess you'll never really know...



So did Simon Belmont really end up as a vampire?
Who was the mysterious woman who wrote this?
And one last thing to consider: how could a woman who lived more the 400 years ago know about the Three Little Pigs?
Fact or fiction? You decide.


Sam Mills can be contacted by email at