#THE WAY THE DEMON DRAGON PINS LINK IN ITS TEETH. THE WAY THESE NORMALLY PEACEFUL ASS CREATURES ONLY EVER HARM HIM ENVIRONMENTALLY

[schmabbald]

the ending of totk makes me want to ugly sob btw. not just because of the actual ending cutscenes but because of that final final boss. it's so swag it makes me want to scream and cry and break things

[sp00kworm]

Resurgence (Castlevania: Lords of Shadow fanfiction) Chapter 4

Summary: The infected and followers of Satan have all been extinguished. Monsters are a rarity and the world seems to teeter on the thin line of peace. The world has rebuilt itself after the night of chaos and death, and life has returned to some sort of normality with people having long since returned to work and running through the daily routine of life. The Prince of Darkness, however, has been cooped up in his Castle, slowly falling between the lines of reality and memory as he looses his grip on his own mind. What will the finding of a chest amongst the rubble do for his sanity? Perhaps a revelation is what he needs in order to regain his grip on the reality of the world.

A03 Link

Chapter Three   Chapter Five

An Immortal Truth

The night air was cool. Though he couldn't feel much of anything anymore, Dracula knew the wind was cold and the night frosty. People huddled in scarves was indication enough. A strange churning feeling made his stomach do flip-flops inside him. It was unlike any of the wrenching pain he felt once the hunger set in, but rather unpleasant all the same. Thinking about Marie only seemed to worsen the feeling churning and bubbling deep within him. Her gentle smile and the soft curve of her features made his heart flutter, though it didn't beat, and his being thrum. He hissed at his own stupidity, clenching his fists tight by his sides as he propelled himself ever faster over the rooftops. The love he'd felt for her had been cast aside long ago, with the betrayal he'd had at the hands of the Brotherhood of Light, those who raised him for a purpose in the world. And, those who chose to abandon him after he'd killed all of the dark creatures of the world, and had left him to be corrupted with demonic power and vampire blood. His inner self screamed at him to relinquish all thoughts of her, of the woman, that he found, despite everything, he still loved. Even after centuries apart, a brief meeting before he destroyed Satan once and for all, he still held her dear. Marie was the only one he loved, and she truly held his heart in the palms of her hand.

Gabriel, as he was once, had tried to forget her, to grow some sort of hatred towards her for leaving him alone, and dying. But he still found himself dreaming of her every night, passionately embraced, her whispering his name. Other times it was he who killed her, and sometimes they had picnics by the lake. She invaded his every thought at first. Yet, as he grew bitter, and turned into the monster that vowed vengeance upon the world, he'd found her fading slightly, covered by a waterfall of blood and death which consumed his conscious. Her face had been lost within those centuries, as he gorged himself and slaughtered God's children for sport. Still, he held her close, and now, as he soared over the dark city, that was once his entire palace, he felt a distant pull, calling for him to return to her and wrap her in the darkness of the night. Dracula wanted her. He needed her for himself, so he could steal away her daylight and show her mysteries she'd never encounter without him. The vampire lord wanted to love her. Shower her with gifts, and, most of all, for her to love him in return.

The night sky flew by him as he powered forwards, looking for anywhere he could quickly grab a mortal to quench his thirst. The blood lust was a constant churning, and as the hunger ripped through him, the feelings he had been consumed with evaporated, as though they had never been there in the first place. His fangs snapped against his bottom teeth, wanting nothing more than a unmarked neck to slice into. His inner-self gurgled and chuckled to himself, coiling deep within, hissing happily as the true predator rose to the surface, hungry and annoyed. He remembered all too well how it had snatched Trevor from him and forced him to kill it, slashing at it with his Void Sword, ripping his wings out of its back before prying the armour open and hacking at the flesh of the appendage like neck attached to a grotesque version of his own head, hair waving like tentacles. 'I am the blood that flows through your veins. I am the dark shadow that chills the hearts of men. I am the fury! Your hate - and your vengeance! I am! Your destiny!' Growling, Dracula plummeted head first, down through the smog surrounding the city towards the tarmac ground.

Quickly, the vampire lord spread his wings out, unfurling them from his back. The black appendages shadowed his form, the black feathers stirring wildly in the strong wind, rushing past his face. Had he needed to breathe, he would have struggled at this moment. The air gushed past his face and escaped his lips. The ground came to meet him with a thud, and Dracula absorbed the impact, landing on both feet in a crouch, his palm pressed into the ground to hold him steady. Easing himself back up onto his feet, Dracula rolled his shoulders, the black feathered angel wings disappearing, as though they were never there in the first place. A whiff of a metallic scent caught his attention. Eyes glimmering a bright crimson, Dracula sniffed the air again. The scent, once again drifted towards him, setting his nerves on fire, the searing pulsing of the eternal hunger rippling through his body. They were close, and apparently bleeding, the metallic scent was strong and uncontaminated, not contained inside a human body, but dripping out of it.

Dracula strode after the scent, calm and stony faced, without an emotion as he moved after, and tracked his prey. Rounding another corner he found himself striding behind a brunette, dressed plainly and seemingly on her way home from somewhere. She ducked her head lower as she walked, her headphones over her ears, the wires flapping wildly as her pace increased. The Dragon found himself grinning slightly at the easy target. If anything, humans had become less apt at being able to defend themselves.

The girl didn't notice his presence until he was directly behind her, his cold breath fanning over her shoulder. She squeaked, flipping around, her headphones slipping off her ears and down around her neck. His vacant look did little to help her unease and she coughed slightly, backing away.

“Can I-I help you sir?” She questioned, her voice wavering. Dracula rolled his eyes up to meet hers, struggling to concentrate amongst the scent of blood. She wasn't injured, or didn't appear to be, but he could guess why her scent had drawn him in. He smiled pleasantly, before fangs glinted in the dim moon light. She froze up, gasping for breath as his eyes shimmered ruby red.

“Oh I think there is.” Like a cat, he leapt at her, grappling his hand around her neck before tugging the girl into an alley at lightning speed. She writhed in his grip and like a floundering fish out of water. It was futile. The vampire lord snarled leaning closer as he pinned her against the wall, cracking her head against the bricks from the force of the impact. His other hand came up to the young girl's face, forcing her head to the side. Kicking and screaming, the girl tried to wriggle away. Rolling his eyes, Dracula smothered her mouth with his hand pinning her head to the side.

Warm tears rolled over his cold hands. Dracula peered at the girl's face. Her cheeks and eyes were puffy from crying and the tears rolled over her eyelids and down his fingers, covering his hand and wrist in salty water. Shaking violently, she finally held still, giving up the fight. Somewhat surprised, Dracula took another look into her doe like eyes, innocent and glossy. The blue orbs looked back at him, fear and anger flowing through them. He saw his own reflection, pale and dangerous. Growling once more, he tore away his gaze and felt anger surge through him. Leaning back slightly, he opened his mouth wide before striking at the girl's exposed throat. A scream rumbled under his palm as his fangs tore messily through her peach coloured skin, into the muscle and the thumping artery. Hot blood gushed into his mouth and he lapped greedily at the wound, his saliva encouraging blood to flow. Underneath his weight, the girl soon stopped making a noise as he slowly but surely, bled her out.

What Dracula had never expected, was to be lashed at by a silver whip. He barely had a moment to register the crack of it unwinding before he was forced to drop the girl, half dead, and evaporate into mist. The whip flew through his gaseous body, leaving no wound nor trace. Reforming he blinked, shrugging off the blood induced haze as he took in the sight of his attacker. A young man was stood there, snapping his whip back at his side with a precise flick of the wrist. It was no Combat Cross, but the thinly wound silver strands would do a good deal of damage to any sort of monster. All except Dracula of course. Werewolves perhaps, and other lowly vampires, but, Dracula was no lowly minion. The youngster was well built and broad, and a silver cross hanging around his neck told Dracula all he needed to know. The warrior's dark green eyes glared at him with contempt, and the breeze ruffled his inky hair which was brushing the bottom of his jaw. Despite him sporting a typical shirt and pair of trousers, many elements of the outfit had been swapped out. A thick pair of boots covered his feet and were plated with metal, curling to cover his knees, and two large silver coloured hip guards swung lightly over his hips. A thick black vest was pulled over his torso, most likely bullet proof, and the holster of his whip swung, unbuttoned down his leg. His looks belonged to no one he recognised, but his scent was unmistakable.

The man from Marie's apartment scowled at him, shaking with anger as he watched blood drip down Dracula's chin and down onto his chest. Dracula, despite his best attempts, found a cynical grin curling his lips upwards at the sight. A small voice began screaming in the distant corner of his mind. 'Kill him and she can be all yours. All yours and only yours.' And, strangely, he found himself wanting to accept it. The Brotherhood member peered over to the girl he had dropped unceremoniously onto the concrete. Subtly, or stupidly, he placed himself between Dracula and the bitten girl. A grin plastered itself across Dracula's face.

“What do you want, boy? A quick death?” He growled the last part, if only to get a rise out of the little warrior of God. It worked.

“I wanted to corner you and ask you questions. This was the best opportunity you sick fuck.” The boy uncurled his whip again, snapping it threateningly at his side, “Why're you back? You've not been active for years after you destroyed the acolytes. Why now?” Dracula snarled at him, fists clenched as he straightened out his back.

“And what makes you think, warrior, that I'll tell you that? My affairs are my own business.” The whip cracked by his ear, and a second later it recoiled at its master's side. The vampire lord did nothing, not even blink, as it struck the wall next to his head. He chuckled, low and dangerously.

“A nice show, but that's not the Vampire Killer. You want to destroy me? Think about investing in one. Now, I suggest you leave.” Another snap of the silver whip told him that this boy was not leaving. Flashing fang he strode towards the man, eyes gleaming red, bright and menacing. The whip flashed out towards his face, and with a scowl he watched it come closer before he snapped out his hand, curling his fingers tight around the biting metal.

The boy's face was a picture. His mouth gapped for a moment before his stony faced facade was back in place. He was quick to pull a vial out of his belt and smirked cockily before throwing it at Dracula's feet. The blue round glass exploded with a crack against the concrete. A spray of hot holy water erupted out of the weapon. The water hit his skin and merely slid down his face, neck and torso. Wiping at his eyes with a bark of laughter, Dracula coiled the silver whip around his fist tighter, tugging the boy closer to him across the alley.

“Silver, holy water, crosses, incantations, stakes, the list goes on fool. Nothing can kill me. Many have tried, even my own kin, and all have failed.” He pulled the man closer, dragging him along the floor with the silver whip, “What makes you think you stand a chance?” They were almost nose to nose as Dracula snorted. Easily, he heaved the whip to the side, the boy still holding the handle as though his life depended on it. With a flick of his wrist he sent him spiralling into the wall at an incredible speed.

A loud bang sounded as the Brotherhood member slammed into the bricks of the building, his head smacking against the wall. He crumpled into a pile at the bottom, groaning and struggling to get to his feet, the bullet proof vest having taken the majority of the blow for him. The silver whip was still wrapped tightly around Dracula's fist, the sharp edged metal had sliced into his palms and the cuts oozed thick dark coloured blood. Sneering, he tossed the weapon aside, watching as the wounds on his palm quickly healed over before advancing towards the younger male. The warrior was still heaving himself upright, swinging from side to side from the blow to his head. Dracul laughed as he kicked him aside, his blow from his boot cracking the man's ribs through the thick plating of the vest. He screamed out in agony, desperately clutching at his side as he hit the wall again. Paying no attention to the pain the boy was in, Dracula leant down, snatching the peachy neck of the man in his palm. He closed his fingers tightly around the expanse of it, increasing the pressure against the trachea.

“Tell me your name boy.” He got a mere wheeze in reply and a glare from one grass coloured eye, the other closed as blood poured from a wound to his forehead. With a growl, he harshly turned the boy's jaw, forcing him to look into his glowing eyes. “Tell me before I rip out your spleen and feed it to you!” Snarling and writhing in the iron grip of the vampire lord, the little warrior finally caved.

“My name is Alaister.” A squeeze to his neck indicated Dracula wanted a last name, “Alaister Linwood.” Alaister huffed and wheezed again as Dracula increased the pressure around his neck. For a moment, the vampire lord heard the small voice whisper to him again in the back of his mind, 'Just kill him, then she can be all ours, all ours, all ours. No one else's, just ours.', and he found himself replying to it- contemplating the idea of just taking her, stealing her away from the world and turning her to be with him forever. The short breaths of Alaister drew his attention back to reality. The warrior continued to claw at his hand, weakly, in an attempt to escape still. So, he found himself with a dilemma.

Killing Marie's interest would only arouse suspicion, especially if the Brotherhood got wind of it. They'd send men after him, and thus a blood bath would ensue. Alaister smirked at him, his face a picture of Trevor's all those years ago.

“Kill me monster. Kill me and be done with it. But know they'll be after you as soon as they hear of it. And this time, they wont stop until you're dead and buried, burnt and staked-”

“Shut your mouth fool.” Dracula rumbled, applying a little more pressure to keep him quiet. “I might not be able to kill you, but who's to say I wont do something else?” A wicked smile curled his lips upwards, fangs glittering in the pale moonlight, his dark hair swooping low over his shoulders. “I could easily turn you. I could use you for my own bidding. Perhaps a grotesque pair of wings would help sort you out, horns and fangs too.” Dracula's pale hand meandered upwards, his black claws stopping to prick at places as he talked. Alaister cringed, and writhed once more.

“I would rather be torn to shreds than face an eternity at your bidding monster!” He spat, pulling at the vampire prince's grip around his throat desperately. Dracula sneered as Alaister spat at him, the saliva just missing his face as he leant his head to the side. Scarily calm, Dracula pinned his neck against the wall once more, turning Alasiter's face to look at him again.

Dracula's eye glowed ruby red and he made sure that Alasiter was looking directly at him. It didn't take long for the boy to fall under his spell. Slowly, he lowered him to the ground.

“You haven't seen me. You don't even know I'm alive.” Dracula's words flowed with a strange energy, a power that willed most other creatures to obey.

“I haven't seen you, who are you?” Alaister repeated, almost robotically. Dracula continued.

“You are on your way to the Vaults. Leave.” Alaister nodded slowly, his green eyes vacant as he turned on his feet and began to walk. His thick leather boots clicked against the concrete as he moved to the end of the alley before taking a left and vanishing into the darkness, a hand clutching at his broken ribs as he hobbled away. The girl was still passed out, laid on the floor, her neck dripping slowly with blood from his savage fang marks. Watching her chest rise and fall, he moved closer, sniffing at her bloodied neck once more. Opening his mouth, he moved in again, tearing deeper into the fresh wounds and feasting on the last of the blood she had to give him, the churning worry of the Brotherhood warrior disappearing as he fed and succumbed to another blood induced haze.

The castle was quiet when he entered. The sprites that usually greeted him immediately by the door were quiet and fluttered down into the shadows to sleep as dawn approached. The light sensitive organisms had little love for the day light, much like himself. However, the thing he found most strange was the lack of his son's presence. Usually Alucard would have retired to his room by this time, claiming he was tired, but he couldn't feel a trace of his presence in the castle as he exerted his influence over the place. A statue next to the entry way watched him go past, the metallic eyes creaking slightly as they followed his movements. Frowning, Dracula turned to the metallic structure and nodded. The statue groaned in response, setting it's gaze on the door, the spirit inside under his will. The roaming spirits were useful if they had something to posses, this way he could guard his castle, and the creature would be sure to report everything back to him. If Alucard stepped into that room, he'd know about it. Somewhat worried, he turned on his heels and ascended the stair case, before making his way to his own chamber, a small pull at his heart the only thing telling him his son was in fact still alive.

A sudden sharp pain through his being, awoke Dracula the next evening. Something was wrong. His eyes shot open, the irises burning red with fury. Bare chested with only his leather breaches covering his body, he whipped out of his room in a cloud of deep red mist. The castle hissed quietly, the walls shaking uneasily. With a hiss Dracula reformed in the entry way. The guard statue stood silent, it's head on the floor. The metallic eyes stared at him, and the glowing green spirit howled, trying to pull the metal back towards the body of the structure. Dracula honed his senses in. A familiar thrum of energy ran through him, and he sighed. Alucard had returned to the castle. He turned his back on the statue and growled before summoning his blood. The viscous liquid whipped around him, forming his grand dark red and gold coat, his black thick boots and the thick bracer belt around his abdomen, before slipping back into his surroundings or into his own form.

It didn't take him long to find his son. Alucard was muttering to himself as he was laid strewn across the large lounge chair, blood splattered across his chest. Dracula scowled as he strode into the room and drew closer to Alucard's still figure. The white haired vampire lifted his head from it's place on the arm rest and sighed before trying to pull himself upright.

“Father I-” Dracula growled as he stood over Alucard, looming and concerned, but an angry scowl pulled his eyebrows down.

“Save your breath. Where have you been? I would not care so much if you had merely turned up fine, but covered in your own blood is another matter.” His voice was low, almost a growl. Alucard frowned up at him, before wincing slightly as his wounds bled out a little more.

“I was out trying to feed. A nest of monsters had been found under a large abandoned hospital. I wanted to clear it out, apparently there was a nest amongst a nice host of traps and workings from the old castle. I took a wrong step and found myself impaled on spikes. The beasts then took it upon themselves to throw silver nettings over me. Luckily they were as stupid as they looked.” Alucard hissed, his fangs slicing into his bottom lip in pain.

“Then why are you not healing?” Dracula raised a single dark coloured eyebrow at his son. Alucard grunted as he attempted to sit up from the leather couch.

Without having to question him further, the vampire lord raised his wrist to his mouth, his fangs tearing deep into the pale skin. His corrupt blood flowed out of the wound, thick and dark red in the torch light. Alucard twitched, the scent and sight of the powerful blood alluring. Dracula sighed.

“Son-” His words died in his throat as Alucard shot off the large seat and latched onto the wound, his own fangs tearing new holes into the soft flesh of his father, and maker's wrist. Gabriel flinched slightly, holding himself steady as he felt the blood leave his body and rush into his son's mouth, the boy's cold tongue lapping over the two torn holes as though he was a starving man- well Alucard was rather wounded, though not on the verge of dying, but definitely ravenous. Alucard snarled drawing back shakily as he wiped at his face and neck with the back of his hand, the blood smearing in streaks across his ashen face. He huffed and growled to himself glaring at Dracula with scorn.

“Why- Why did you do that?!” Alucard snarled at him, wrenching himself backwards further still, away from the sickly alluring aroma of his father's tainted blood. His father merely gave him a cold look.

“Would you have rather bled out and died, or yet, have laid there until they healed. You would have succumbed to sleep before they had healed, never mind the sun light.” Dracula's tone was cool, and harsh, commanding, yet he spoke the truth. Alucard sighed, watching as the last of his wounds healed over, the strange sensation tingling before it subsided, and the gaping red holes with it.

“I still do not understand how they managed to use the contraptions to their advantage, or where they acquired silver netting.” Alucard mulled it over as he stretched out his spine, peering around the room, and up to the burning blue torches that hung on the cold grey stone walls.

Dracula had placed himself in the large arm chair opposite a grand hearth, the stone twisting into gargoyles on each end and various ivy like patterns engraved into the rock. His eyes shined red as he looked Alucard straight in the eye.

“That still does not explain why you did not simply feed off of them to heal.” He hummed in thought as Alucard rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“Would you want to lick blood and entrails up off of the floor?” Dracula curled his nose at this.

“Point taken son. But why-”

“They simply exploded when the Crissaegrim touched them. It was strange, I'll admit.” Alucard cut him off before he could ask. Dracula merely turned his gaze back to the hearth before he grabbed a log from by the stone. Summoning his Chaos Claws he quickly set it alight before throwing it into the fire pit. Tossing a few more logs into the blaze, he finally sat back, somewhat more relaxed. The vampire lord watched the flames dance along the wood, deep in thought.

Dracula rapped his black claws against the cold leather of the chair, thoughts of Marie entering his mind. He found a small obsession beginning to form in his mind, and a want to see her again. He'd seen her less that twenty four hours ago, but still she invaded his mind. Her luscious brown hair, her eyes, her scent – everything. Memories he hadn't thought of in years resurfaced as he stared into the fire. He'd been just a squire when he'd met her, under a high ranking officer of the Brotherhood in order for him to train and eventually be his own warrior. Her father had set up his shop in the small village just outside the Brotherhood of Light's compound, and was selling all sorts of devices and trinkets alongside many other daily necessities. She'd been in the shop, stocking the shelves for the merchant when he'd seen her, flowers in her hair from the local children that flocked to her side. A picture of beauty. Gabriel hadn't even realised he'd been staring until he was called away, he'd turned to look one last time to see her smiling, laughing lightly. He'd turned away, in a foul mood, a blush high on his cheeks, chasing after the officer he was assigned to. Years later, they were husband and wife.

Alucard reclined into the seat next to him, sniffing curiously at the air surrounding him. He scowled  at his father, his white hair falling low over his shoulders as he leant forward, darker eyebrows furrowed low as his sharp golden gaze peered at him.

“You fed on someone did you not? But you smell flowery.” A smirk twisted the corner of his scarred lips upwards, “Did you take to frolicking through a meadow father?”. Dracula glared at his son from the corner of his eyes, his red eyes pulsing brightly.

“No son, I did not run through a flower patch. Perhaps it was just the perfume that girl had on.” He flipped a hand carelessly, annoyed and willing to be left alone. Alucard was not to be deterred. A small light clicked and he drew back.

“You found that woman didn't you? The...The one who looked like mother?”

His father didn't respond but drew his gaze back over to the fire, a solemn look drawing his face downwards. Alucard sighed, pinching at his nose with two slender pale fingers. “Father, you cannot truly believe she-”

“That I truly believe she is your mother?! No, I do not, but she is damnably like her Trevor! Everything! Even her damn scent is of your mother!” Alucard looked startled for a moment before he frowned lightly, willing himself not to bite back at him for the use of his human name. Dracula rushed from his seat, his coat billowing wildly as he did so. “I will not sit and be belittled by you. I'm leaving for the evening. Do as you will.” He lurched forward, shoving the large doors to the lounge open. They swung open and slammed back against the brick as he left. Alucard growled before bounding after him, his armour clinking harshly as he moved.

“Father! She is not mother!” He grabbed Dracula's shoulder heaving him backwards. “Mother is dead! She is gone! Why can you not accept this!?” He felt his father go stiff before he was rushing through the air.

“YOU THINK I DO NOT KNOW SHE IS DEAD!” Dracula roared as he advanced. Alucard huffed spinning in the air in a graceful somersault before he landed, claws dragging against the stone as he slowed to a halt. Still his father screamed, his voice shaking the castle walls as the structure responded to his rage. “I watched her leave me! I ended up killing her in the end! She is gone and yet I find I cannot follow her, I cannot be with her...I-I am alone. I'm alone. Abandoned. Even He has left me!” He threw a hand skywards towards the ceiling, “He who chose ME! He who commanded me to kill! He had left me to rot in the darkness, yet still I do his bidding! I cannot rest Alucard! I cannot even bleed out anymore! I don't need to breath! I AM IMMORTAL! UNDYING!” His chest heaved as he finished and Alucard peered at the ground, gritting his teeth as the castle foundations shuddered beneath them both. He opened his mouth only to watch as dark angelic wings burst from his father's back. “I do not expect you to understand,but, just let me see her. This, this is all I have left.” And in a rush of wind he was gone, the castle groaning as its master escaped on the wind.

Alucard frowned, troubled.

“I understand more than you think father.” And he too felt a change come over him, and he bounded into the night. A white wolf against the blackness of the sky.