#Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D belongs to Hideyuki Kikuchi and Urban Vision. I do not own it.
The Legend I
Once Bitten
Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction
Chapter 1: The Survivor
The hunter who was known only as D entered the small stone shed. He had been hired to find the ten people who had been kidnapped from a town by a vampire and held within. It was day, and the vampire was naturally nowhere to be found.
The shed was deserted. Unperturbed, D went to the rough sackcloth rug in the middle of the shed and kicked it aside. The outline of a trapdoor was visible on the stone floor. Using his sword, D prised the trapdoor open.
A dank, musty odour rose from the secret passage under the shed floor. There was a ladder leading down into the ink-black darkness. Ignoring the ladder, D jumped into the opening.
The moment he landed, D heard a scream, quickly choked back. There were sounds of someone banging on something, then the sound of rotten wood giving way, followed by a loud crash. A similar series of sounds echoed down the dark tunnel.
A girl's voice called out from somewhere down the tunnel, "Oh, you bust the door too? Come on; let's make a break for it!"
There was an alarmed yelp by the same voice, followed by a thump and the sound of something cracking. "Shit, they're all vampires," D heard the girl swear.
Scuffling sounds, and the sound of someone running. A slender figure charged out of the darkness into the pool of dim light cast by the open trapdoor.
It was a girl. She could not have been more than sixteen years old. She was slim and petite; her head would barely reach D's shoulder if she stood next to him, and he could probably encircle her waist with an arm if he cared to. The dirt on her face did nothing to hide how pretty she was, with perfectly almond-shaped dark eyes framed with dark lashes under slim, arching brows. Her soft, perfectly straight black hair hung to the middle of her back.
She wore an off-shoulder black blouse with loose, slightly puffy long sleeves and fitting black pants belted at the hip with a silver-buckled black leather belt. Over the blouse she wore a moulded, strapless black leather vest laced all the way up the front with crisscrossing black ribbons knotted at her chest. On her feet were black leather ankle boots with thin stiletto heels made of metal that gleamed dark silver.
When she saw D, she froze in her tracks, despite the alarming scuffling sounds coming from behind her. D had that effect on people, especially females. The girl simply stood there and gazed upon him, the unbelievably gorgeous, deathly pale man in black who looked so young but radiated an unearthly aura so powerful …
The scuffling sounds got louder, and a snarl from one of her pursuers broke the girl free from the spell. Coming to her senses, she ran towards D, her face a mask of determination and rash, desperate courage.
"Get out of my way, vampire!" she yelled as she tried to charge past him.
She paled when D drew his sword and started forward. She stopped and flattened herself against the wall, desperate to avoid what she thought was an attack. Instead, the black blur that was D sped past her and through the gang of freshly changed vampires charging after her.
All she saw was a flash of bright silver, and all she heard was a strange, pulsing sort of whirring sound, almost as if D's sword was singing. The next thing she knew, all the vampires lay dead, nine of them. She was the sole survivor, out of the ten who had been taken.
She understood now. The beautiful man with the sword was no vampire. He was a hunter. A dhampir, she guessed. Hesitating, she moved towards the tall, lean figure standing in the middle of the ring of vampire corpses. She tried to avoid looking at the faces on the bodies. They had once been her neighbours, after all.
"Go outside," the hunter ordered. His voice was gentle and held not even a trace of fierceness, and yet it was commanding. Compelling, rather. "Climb the ladder and go outside, into the sunlight."
It was light outside. The girl turned to head for the ladder, but not before she saw the shadowy figure approaching slowly from deep within the underground passage. The female vampire, the one who had kidnapped her. Only the dhampir stood between the enraged vampire and the girl.
Without a backward glance, the girl ran, reached the ladder, and began to climb the rusty rungs. She heard the singing of the dhampir hunter's blade behind her, and the sneers of the female vampire. She yelped as one of the rungs broke off in her hand.
Nothing could explain what she did next. Hanging off the ladder on one hand, the girl hurled the broken rung at the female vampire. The vampire deflected the iron rod easily. With a screech of rage, she hurtled past the hunter and came at the girl like a tempest.
There was a quiet ripping sound, accompanied by the echoing song of the dhampir's sword. The vampire stopped short in midair, her claws mere inches from the girl's face. The end of the dhampir's blade protruded from the left side of the vampire's chest. Her face was frozen in a horrifying grimace, one that would haunt the girl's nightmares for a few weeks.
From behind, the dhampir hunter pulled his gore-stained sword out of the vampire's body. The lifeless corpse dropped to the ground, shrivelled, and finally became a scattering of dark dust. The hunter cleared the blood from his sword with a sharp, practiced flick before returning the blade to its sheath across his back.
"I … I want to go home," the girl said faintly. She was obviously in a state of shock.
D said nothing. He held out a hand and helped the girl down from the ruined ladder. Then, holding her with one arm, he leapt straight up out of the trapdoor. Once out, he set the girl down on her feet on the stone floor of the shed.
"Come. I'll take you home," D said, walking out of the shed ahead of her.
"I see. The rest of them had already been changed," the mayor said resignedly. "At least their souls have been put to rest. I can't thank you enough for bringing Vianne back to us. She's an orphan, and all of us have had a part in raising her. She is a well-loved child in this town."
D accepted his payment without comment. He was aware of the girl called Vianne seated in a cushioned chair in the corner, drinking something hot from a mug and staring unwaveringly at him at the same time.
"You have rid the town of a serious threat," the mayor went on after a hesitant glance at Vianne. She had switched her gaze to him, and was looking expectant. "To show our appreciation, we would like to invite you to stay and enjoy our hospitality for a few days."
If D was surprised by the offer, he did not show it. It was the first case of such a degree of human kindness he had experienced in a very long time. It was especially unexpected since nine out of the ten people he had been supposed to rescue had died.
His gaze flickered over Vianne, who had a steely gaze locked on his face. It was impossible to mistake that look for the one of captivated wonder on most female faces. Her expression did not say, I beg you, please stay, dear hunter. Her expression said, I want you to stay, so stay, or else.
This was obviously a girl who was used to having her own way. She had to be very precious to the people of this town indeed, to be able to convince the mayor to invite D to stay just because he had rescued her.
D considered the obstinate look on the girl's face. He had no urgent engagements, and human kindness was hard to come by. He would indulge her.
"That is very kind of you," he said to the mayor.
The mayor smiled a smile that was half-genuine, half-forced. "There's an empty house near the town gardens you can put up at during your stay. It's quite comfortably furnished – it's usually for merchant guests to stay in when they come to do business. You'll find the view of the gardens from there quite spectacular. I'll have someone show you there."
"I don't mind," Vianne volunteered, with a hopeful look at the mayor.
"Absolutely not, young lady!" the mayor chided. "You're dirty and tired, and you've just been through a terrible ordeal. I'll not have you running about all over town until you collapse. Go up to the house and tell Maria to give you a bath, clean clothes and food. God knows, you have several similar outfits stowed away in my house. No one can tell them apart."
"Not true," Vianne argued. "The blouses are all different. This is the plain one. There's the one with a bit of lace trimming, and the one with gathers, just to name two. My other pants have some form of design on them, too. And my other vest has studs."
The mayor smiled in spite of himself. He waved his hands at Vianne. "Still can't tell them apart – they're all black. After dinner, make sure you lie down and have a good rest."
"Fine," Vianne said, almost flouncing off her seat. "I'll wear one of the less embarrassing dresses, since I'm apparently supposed to be an invalid. Happy now, sir?"
"Very," the mayor told her with a kindly grin. "Now move along."
Vianne left the mayor's office. At the door, she turned back and gave D a deep look. There was longing in that look, but that was only minimal. There was more to that look, much more. All D could gather from it was a sense of empathy, a sense that she could see into his soul and feel what was there. She gave him a small, close-lipped smile before slipping out.
"She's a very special child, isn't she?" the mayor asked suddenly. "She has a gift for analysing the feelings of others. She always seems to know what people are feeling just by observing their behaviour. She doesn't always act upon that empathy, but she always knows."
"She is brave," was all that D offered.
The mayor laughed, sounding a little more at ease for some reason. "Yes, that she is. Come now, dhampir hunter. I'll walk you to your quarters myself."
When D looked out of the window of the guesthouse in the morning, he saw Vianne in the garden. The mayor had not been wrong; the garden was quite spectacular.
The town garden was a small glade, decorated so richly with beautiful flowering and green vegetation that it seemed almost like an oasis, a slice of another world, a world that belonged in fairy tales.
There was a white marble fountain in the centre of the garden. A brick footpath went all the way around the fountain, then stretched off in four directions in a radial pattern. Wooden benches with ornate black metal legs and armrests lined the broad footpaths at regular intervals.
The area beyond the footpaths was paved with a soft, luxurious carpet of the greenest grass. Flowering bushes put forth colourful blooms along the grass. Tall trees with elegantly curved branches lent shade to the footpaths.
Vianne walked among the greenery, carefully avoiding areas where there were bees flying around. She seemed afraid of them. She had no trouble with butterflies, though.
Her appearance was radically different from the day before. Her face had been washed, obviously, and her smooth skin tone made her entire face seem more radiant, more energetic. Her hair had been brushed until it shone slightly. She wore a plain black halter dress with a crimson trim along the hem of the short skirt and elegant gathers along one of the side seams.
D watched her sit by the fountain and play with the clear, sparkling water. After a while, she went to look at the flowers, scuttling away like a panicked rabbit whenever a bee flew near. As time passed, it became clear that she was not really just hanging around the garden. She was watching the house. Waiting for him to come out.
D had seen enough. He turned away from the window.
Vianne was busy escaping from a particularly large bumblebee when D stepped out of the borrowed house. Unhurriedly, he approached the garden.
When she was finally assured that the bee was no longer following her, she relaxed. She turned around, only to find herself facing D across the spray of the fountain. It was an odd way to come face-to-face with him, but she rather liked it.
"Hello," she said, smiling slightly. D acknowledged her greeting with a slight nod.
"I haven't thanked you properly for yesterday," she went on. "I guess it was rather rude of me, after you stopped that vampire from tearing out my face and all. So thank you."
"Don't thank me," D said quietly from the other side of the fountain. "I was paid for the job. That is all there is to it."
Vianne glanced around. All the other people spending a leisurely morning in the garden were inching away to other corners of the place. Some were even leaving altogether. They were suspicious, afraid, or both. Even when the mayor was the one who had extended an invitation, a dhampir was never truly welcome.
"Don't mind them," Vianne said suddenly. "People are like that. They dream of heroes, of idols, stronger and better looking than life. When one turns up, they scatter in fear and distrust. That's humans for you. We're afraid of anything different, anything better than us. More than anything humans want control. So we're scared of anything that we can't control. For us, ideals were never meant to become reality."
"I'm used to it," D told her.
Her serious expression vanished, and she smiled brightly at him. "Oh, don't say that," she said. "Not everyone is like that. There are people who can appreciate that humans aren't the supreme sentient beings. You've met some of these people. Many, I'd say."
D glanced at Vianne sideways. He had a vague idea what she was talking about, but he held his tongue and waited to hear what else she had to say.
"But even those people were afraid of you, in their own way," she continued. "I've heard stories about you. Stories about women in villages and towns who never forget you, and stare wistfully down the road leading away from their home when you are mentioned. Those women don't despise you for being a dhampir. Perhaps they think they're in love with you. What they feel for you is beyond fear. It's awe. Amazement so powerful that it puts them under a spell. I almost got dragged under it myself, when I saw you for the first time."
She paused, then went on, "But how can any of them truly love you? I don't believe in love at first sight, not really. Attraction yes, but love no. You've never allowed anyone to know you, to get close to you. Some say they love you because of what you've done for them. That's just gratitude, transformed by awe into something else. I daresay it's worked for you, distancing yourself from everyone like that. You've kept yourself free. But the more you simply play the ice prince act, the more they will want to win your heart, to be special to you. And after you're gone they still moon after you, imprisoning themselves with what they think could have been."
D kept his gaze locked on the fountain. The sparkling spray was reflected in his beautiful deep, dark eyes. For a moment, Vianne was silent, mesmerised by the watery light shining in his eyes. For that moment, she fought the very thing she had been talking about.
"No one will ever be happy with you," she said, her voice soft and grave. "You will never make anyone happy because you're always wandering, because you have no life other than that of a hunter's. Because you're always putting yourself in danger, because anyone who walks with you will be feared and rejected, just like you are. Because you will never grow old, never die, unless someone kills you. Because you might give in to the thirst for blood. Because any emotional attachment is only a weakness to be used against you in your line of work. Simply put, you can never bring happiness because you're a dhampir, and because you're a hunter. Am I right?"
D had to admire the girl's deep thinking and insight. In some ways, her mind was mature way beyond her years. "More or less."
Vianne smiled now, her smile sombre and sad. In a matching voice she advised, "Then you have yet to meet someone who will give up anything and everything for that attraction they have for you. Someone who will give up her life, her place in society, her security … everything. Someone who doesn't expect you to stay with her, but chooses to follow you wherever you go. Someone who follows without waiting for your invitation to do so. When you meet that person, I'd advise you to break that ice armour you have on there. Because that is the person who truly loves you. Because that is the one who will accept you as you are. Exactly as you are."
Without another word, she turned and walked away. Without defending her right to give him advice like that, without insisting on her credibility despite her youth, as if she knew age and time mattered nothing to D. As if she was so confident that there was no need for clarification, and that her words in themselves were their own defenders.
D followed her with his eyes. He watched her as she went. The girl who understood the effect he had on people even more profoundly than he himself did. Her mind was a strange thing, not clouded by fear and awe like most others.
He admired her. That was the first time that could truly ever be said of a human.
